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Is this some kind of trick? Why are you tied to that chair, hmm? And why aren't you blue? --Neighbornon
Ossë clicked and stared at the neighbor. Well, this was not the worst person to find him like this. None of his Elves would do anything to hurt him, after all. "Trying on a new body; what do you think of it? Rather handsome, I know, but anything in particular you enjoy?"
(meme) "So, you are... quite mortal." Langon sat back, watching Ossë comfortably. "I'd imagine you find this place unpleasant in any case," he noted, waving his hand toward their surroundings, the barren wastes of Anfauglith. "Isn't it nice to know that even if your power returns, you will still be in the worst possible place for you?" The herald smiled. "Not to fret. I'm not going to do anything. Just watch you. For quite a while, I think..."
Ossë licked his lips, his mind playing tricks on him. Even though this body was always dry, he felt somehow more dry just knowing he was far from the sea. "How flattering," he drawled, lifting his chin and adopting an arrogant expression as best he could. "I know I am quite fair, but few have gone through such trouble just to admire me."
{Revenge meme: askcaranthir} The Noldo smirked as the chair was set down by his attendants, Ossë's coral crown spinning on a finger. "Well this is refreshing..." His smirk turned to a near feral grin as the circlet was snapped in two. The Ainu-turned-Elf had been deposited on the shore by his Manor. Lake Helevorn's surface was still, and as glassy and dark as the Fëanorian's wrathful gaze. "Tell me. Fish. How do you feel about waterboarding?"
Ossë curled his lip back in a snarl that was not nearly so threatening with flat teeth or when tied to a chair helplessly. He squirmed in a futile effort to free himself as his crown was broken -- Rude! That crown had been with him since he'd first introduced himself to his Elves!
His brow twitched at the question, actual expressions replacing his usual sounds. "Waterboarding?" he repeated warily. "I know my Elves are fond of the sport, though I do not require a board to ride my waves, so I have no personal opinion."
((Elf-verse still a thing?)) What happend to you?
((It is! Because I like it too much to officially end it.)) Ossë huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. It wasn't nearly as effective when he had to inhale after the exhale and repeat the process indefinitely. "Some horrible, wicked, shadowed figure in a cloak. An ally of Mairon's, I assume." He tried to whine, but it sounded funny with these vocal cords. "It's miserable, pearl. I'm like an actual Child!"
The soft woven hanging on Cirdan's chamber wall began slowly to unravel as though some invisible hand had plucked at a loose thread and begun to pull. The thread, however, did not pile loosely on the floor in a tangle, but whipped about and reshaped itself in the air in an elaborate dance. Where once there had been naught but thread, Vairë now stood, the slightest of smiles on her face. "Brother! I thought I might find you here. I had heard you were--rather diminished?"
Ossë sat on the floor, his back against the wall beside the balcony doors. The view had become too upsetting, and he found himself restlessly frustrated with no way to let out his pent up energy. So he let his head thud back against the wall repeatedly, his eyes closed against the dull ache that bloomed, his elbows propped on his knees. He didn't even notice the extra presence until Vairë spoke.
Jerking upright and alert, he blinked a few times to focus his gaze on her. "Sister," he wailed, surprised but pleased for the visit. "You heard? About the horrible, cloaked monster who cursed me into this dreadful hroa? I'm being forced to eat and sleep and do foul things!"
No Water for the Wicked
While Círdan went about his duties, Ossë decided to wander off on his own further down the coast. He still felt too unaccustomed to this body to blend easily in with his Elves, and it frustrated him to attempt mingling or working when he was so lost. Instead, he sought solace in solitude and the water on the shore.
There was little to be found. The surf was not quite right and the temperature still felt so cold. Heavily, the Ainu dropped onto the sand and dipped his bare feet into the water in hopes for some connection or sudden surge of power. When he threw a rock, it didn't get thrown back at him; he did still feel that itch in his mind from the ripples, though.
Master of the...
Ossë found it unpleasantly poetic to stand at the balcony doors with the gossamer curtains drawn and the heavier fabric wrapped around him like a cloak. The smell of the sea, the cool breezes, the sounds and sights were still able to pass through the thin and pale fabric. It was little more than a most basic privacy shield, his shadow visible but his distinct features unknown to outsiders. During long hours standing there, he had decided his fanar were like flimsy curtains, too. He liked that.
This form was different. It was a heavy curtain. It blocked all light and breeze and sight and smell and muffled the sounds. It was not transparent or passable, it did not let a person interact with the world on the other side. It was a wall, an impenetrable shield. It was a hroa. He didn't like it.
With his fanar he was always only partially within that form, but always did he remain with the sea. His breaths were the even push and pull along the coasts, and his pulse was in the tempo of the song that his brother sang through the water. But now, as a Child, he was severed from his oceanic body. He could not feel the music in his chest or move with the surf that broke upon the sand. Instead of controlling and mastering the seas, he quietly whispered into its depths and hoped the waters would obey. His first attempt had been a wave that knocked him over as well as his target. The second had given no result. The third had nearly swallowed an island.
His fingers curled in the curtains as he stared out over the coasts and the waters that were far too still. Now and then, waves would come in to crash on the shore that were too high and too fast, and then it would be still after several rapid pulses. He'd lost control.
ask-dolwethil replied to your post: //If any Ainur want to harass elf!Ossë that's totes cool.
*smirks* Hello brother dear~ ((Youmeanmedon’tyou*shot*))
Ossë hesitates only a moment before he turns and levels her with his best unimpressed stare. "What do you want?"
