An Exercise in Imagery

A sideblog for my attempts to use Photoshop. ----------------------------------------------- Expect mainly Hannibal and Tolkien.

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PSA

So you may have noticed that I haven’t posted anything in months and that’s not likely to change any time soon, because I’ve been using my fandom blog instead. So if you’d rather follow something a little more active, consider checking it out here

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First comes the blessing of all that you’ve dreamed But then comes the curses of diamonds and rings Only at first did it have its appeal but now you can’t tell the false from the real Who can you trust, who can you trust?

Statues and empires are all at your hands Water to wine and the finest of sands When all that you have is turning stale and it’s cold Oh you no longer feel when your heart’s turned to gold Who can you trust, who can you trust? (x)

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Endless List of Characters: Galadriel

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Thranduil in the Battle of Five Armies

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They will look for his coming from the White Tower, but he will not return.

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New stills from the Hobbit: the Battle of Five Armies

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Elvish Names 2/4: Elven Realms of the Third Age

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Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror

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Hobbit Scenes 1/?: The White Council

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Oropher, Gil-galad and the catalyst for the Sindarin migration into the east.

The Battle of the Thousand Caves, the Ruin of Doriath, the Kinslayings, the Sinking of Beleriand – these do not change Oropher so much as sharpen him, wearing away the softness of centuries of safety and refining the raw material left behind. He acquires an obsessive single-mindedness, and turns it on those who fail to meet his demands – of late, his most frequent target is Gil-galad.

He entered the meeting chamber as if preparing for battle, tight and wary. There was no ambush awaiting him, however, simply a young king tired of squabbling. Oropher had unapologetically hijacked as many councils as he was able, or else undermined Gil-galad in snide remarks and barely disguised disdain. It was not a dispute the king could allow to continue.

“Oropher,” Gil-galad said in greeting. He looked up from his scattered papers and attempted a polite smile that, unreturned, faded quickly into the silence. “Allow me to be blunt.”

“Allow me to follow suit,” Oropher said. He stood directly opposite, staring unflinchingly across the circular table. The absence of an audience placed them on an even footing - there was no-one here to rein in his challenges to the king’s authority.

“You have been holding private assemblies of Sindar.”

“I have. Do you object?”

“I might; it depends on the motives for these gatherings. What were you discussing?”

“Kinslayers, traitors. Noldor.” In another’s mouth the words could have been merely insolent, but with Oropher’s cold certainty they became a statement of fact.

“I had hoped we might stay above past feuds,” Gil-galad said, frustration creeping into his voice despite efforts to the contrary. “I should hardly have to impress upon you the importance of unity in the face of this unprecedented catastrophe - Beleriand is gone, the Eldar much reduced in numbers, and our previous divisions are no longer appropriate.”

“Unity?” Oropher cried, fingers splayed across the table as he leaned forwards. “Do you expect me to simply forget the murder of Dior, Nimloth and their children, to forgive the slaughter of my people?”

“No, I expect you to recognise that we are not your enemy,” Gil-galad said. “The Kinslayings were the work of the sons of Fëanor; you cannot accuse me of their deeds.”

“I can accuse you of being unsuitable to rule us,” Oropher retorted.

“And what would you have me do?” Gil-galad asked. “How can I change that?”

Oropher, expecting further argument, was temporarily at a loss. In the sudden pause, the strains of mournful music drifted through the windows. The song was unmistakable: the Noldolantë. He stiffened, teeth and fists tightly clenched, his frown twisting into pure anger as he reached for the words that could convey how wrong it was – but amidst the tumult of grief and fury and fear, the only clarity he could find was Maglor prowling the streets of the Havens, his cloak dragging in the pools of blood.

“You can’t,” he hissed, and stormed from the room.

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True Detective + Scenery

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Endless List of Characters: Rust Cohle

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Domestic Hannibal appreciation

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Ladies discovering Hannibal's secret (and the consequences)

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Quote Swap: Game of Thrones + Hannibal