| What makes you laugh? |
[16 Jan 2004|12:08pm] |
Oh, most anything and everything.
My favorite thing to laugh at is when I and the other lads play tricks on people. That is the most horribly amusing thing to do. I'm almost ashamed of myself, but i really can't help it.
I mean, my esteemed Ada hopping around because Mother and I sewed his pants shut along the bottom this morning?
See what I mean? Who can resist!
|
|
| If you could have dinner with anyone in all of history, who would it be, and why? |
[15 Jan 2004|12:07pm] |
My Grand-Adar, Turgon.
What could it be like, to follow his family to Middle Earth from Valinor, to survive his wife's death, to raise his daughter alone, to design and build a city still reknowned; to hold a friendship with one of the Valar?
He must have been an unusual man. At times I'm jealous of my parents for having known him, which is unreasonable, after all. I knew him too - but I was seven years old and I remember next to nothing of him. All I remember is grandada's smile, like my Mother's.
She tells me the old bat's not all I've probably got him cracked up to be. She's probably right. I hope I never get disappointed. I rather like my image of Grand-Adar, accurate or not.
|
|
| What's your favorite guilty indulgence? |
[14 Jan 2004|11:57am] |
I'd have to say sleeping in. I don't get to often. I'm usually up with the sun, doing chores for my mother or off with my friends.
Rare are the mornings whenI can just lie there and sleep another hour, nothing expected of me, no obligations even to move. The house is usually so quiet then, because Mother'll go out to her garden and Father will go off on one of his walks.
Sometimes there's even time for a long slow wank, and a nap after. No one to interrupt, no real need to keep things silent (quiet, of course!). Just me, adoring myself, a bit of vanity.
Those are the best kind of mornings, and just rare enough to appreciate.
|
|
| How did you lose your virginity? |
[13 Jan 2004|11:36am] |
I remember this one quite well.
I was sleeping on the beach with some of the other lads, as we like to do on occasion, and one of them (who I'd had a bit of a crush on for some time) snuck off for a swim after the rest of us were asleep. I was awake, and so I went with him.
After our swim we went and laid up on the rocks and discussed the stars, and I turned to look at him, and he kissed me. Things just really progressed from there. I admit I was really confused about having sex with an older boy at first, but I soon caught on, and quite enjoyed myself.
My first time with a girl was during the day. I was sentenced to helping pick crops, and so was she, and we snuck off into the brush and made it in the sand under a gnarled old oak tree. I wasn't her first, and she was good - I didn't feel too unsure of myself. She even complimented me after, on size, as we headed back to the fields.
All in all, both were good expierences.
|
|
| What's more important - self preservation or forgiveness? |
[12 Jan 2004|11:13am] |
Self preservation, definitely.
I mean, if you don't preserve yourself, what's left of you to forgive?
You let people take advantage of you, forgive them, and they keep doing it and you keep forgiving, you'll turn into a little pile of submissive goo.Sometimes you have to be harsh with people to get things done, and that includes living your life. You just can't go around forgiving everybody.
|
|
| Do you believe in love at first sight? |
[10 Jan 2004|11:57am] |
Of course I do.
I think I fell in love today.
See, there's this girl. She's a half and half too, and she's gorgeous. A little older than me.
I was walking around on the rocks, tossing crabs that weren't smart or quick enough to evade me at the seaulls. They catch pretty well, and it amuses me. I was up on a stretch of beach that I usually never go to, nor any of the other boys either. (They were wrestling or off doing chores.)
Why do we never go up there? I found out why. That's where the girls go. I hid up in the rocks, sat myself down, and watched them in thier little enclosed haven. The Girl, (her name is Elwing), was sitting on a blanket with the other girls, sewing. They did this so long I started to get bored. How do girls sit still so long and focus on those tiny little needles, anyway?
Then, one of them walks down to the water and wades around for a bit. She gets bored, and I also get bored of oggling her bare calves and feet. She goes back ahsore, and talks to the other girls. They're some laughing, and teasing, and they all stand up. Then, they start taking thier clothes off! Whoohoo! I am a big fan of the elvish female body.
And I can assure you, Elwing is perfectly symetrical. Heh.
They run down to the shore, ass naked and making me dizzy, and go swimming for a while. I watched thier breasts and hair float a while, then started to feel guilty. Like the loser I am, I crept off and left them to thier peace.
I am spineless. Damn you Mother, for ingraining honor and decency in me! *fist shake* Now I can't even take free peeks at naked girls! Argh!
|
|
| Is there ever a good reason to get blinding drunk? |
[09 Jan 2004|09:17am] |
Of course there is, or I like to think so, anyway.
You see, I'm young, and wild, and impulsive, and entirely infatuated with the concept of blaming my actions on some poor innocent bottle of beer. Not that I don't like the taste mind you, or that it's the only thing that really keeps well at sea, but I'm more in love wiht the idea of it, than the actual thing.
Ever notice how altered perceptions can be? I mean, like, look around next time you're tipping the bottle. It's really strange. Maybe it's just me that gets it like that, but I rather like it. I can hear things, smell things, and sometimes even touch things that don't exist.
It's really quite fascinating, and I'd do it more often, if the hangover weren't such a deterrent.
Suppose that's why elves never become alcoholics. No tolerance, and the hieghtened perceptions make hangovers hell. I'm half elf, so I guess I'm blended just right for it. Mother always turns up her nose when Father and I drink. As if we fear her displeasure, and that'll stop us.
|
|
| What is your New Year's resolution? |
[08 Jan 2004|09:30am] |
Lay on the beach more. Lay more. Heh heh heh.
Seriously? I think find a mate. I'm just past 70, so it's about time. Don't get me wrong, my mates are all good lads, but they're sailors. Strong, wiry, coarse, and uneducated. Of course they're fabulous lays, but I want something more. I have to be meant for something more, after what all I cost Mother and Father.
Sometimes I think that if I rememberd the Fall more clearly, then they would be able to relate to me better. I don't know, maybe I'm just talking out of my arse. It's hard to tell with parents, whether you're an equal adult now or not.
Anyway, yeah. Ecthelos is dying for me to beat him in a footrace again. Notice, again. You'd think he'd give up, but he never does. I think he has a crush.
|
|
| Do you feel that you were born with a predetermined role in society? |
[07 Jan 2004|09:50am] |
If so, how do you feel about it?
Boy, that question takes me back. Right into the days of Mother trying to teach me to read, write, and do math. I can write and read quite well, but I can only count as well as most of the Sirion elves here: One seabird, two seabird, three.
Anyway, off the subject of long hard questions and empty headed elflings. I'd have to say that as the son of Tuor and Idril, I most certainly was. People expect a lot of me, being half-elf, half-man, and the son of Gondolin refugees to boot.
How I feel about it is really irrelevant, as I can't change it or make people stop by hating it. And I do hate it. Sometimes I'd like to be like all the other elf lads. One that isn't marked for destiny, free to run on the shore, play in the seawater naked, no worries, no care, and most especially, no one looking at me as if they expect me to save the bloody world.
It gets annoying, the "help, save me" look, after a while. The older elves are the only ones who don't do it, like Mother and Father. But then, it's hard to understand them enough to enjoy thier prescene. It's as if they live on another plane of existence. More on that later.
I have to go catch fish with Father, because he's shit at fishing.
Don't tell him I said that.
|
|
| Intro |
[06 Jan 2004|09:59am] |
God, I hate introductions.
But, I'm a kind fellow, so I'll give it a shot. Don't expect a handshake and a 'how do you do, sir?'. Mother may have taught me manners, but that doesn't mean I have to use them. I'm more the type to leap into your lap, get aqquainted with your neck or hands, then bound off for some other amusment.
I'm not what people would expect of a half man half elf, you notice? Prim? Hah! Proper? Hah!
Yes, I'm more or less insane. But I'm a lot of fun. Ask the other lads. The girls are quite frightened of me, I dunno why. They're always watching me, then when I get close their eyes get wide. Go figure.
Anyway, I'm Earendil, only son of Idril and Tuor. Gondolin born and raised until the young age of seven, whereupon the city fell, most everyone died, and we fled here, to the Havens of Sirion. I passed my majority about twenty years ago, and have managed to stave off the itch to settle down so far. Mother says one day I'll find a nice girl. Father says don't press our luck.
I'm with Father.
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
|
|
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
firstage_beauty's journal