Event Log: Senses Fail

[hadrielmods]

Who: All characters participating in the event
What: The event log for the Senses Fail event
Where: All over the city
When: May 14th-May 20th
Warnings: None

You wake up on the 14th, and something is different. Maybe it's something small - you can't smell anything, or your hearing on one side seems to be on the fritz. Or it could be something large and impossible to miss - you've gone completely blind, or you seem to be missing a leg. You've lost something, and no matter what you do, you can't seem to fix it.

Will you ever get it back? Probably, but it's impossible to be sure. And even if you're thoroughly convinced that this is temporary, that still means you have to figure out how to live like this for the next week. Even small things can be huge difficulties. Your sense of taste doesn't seem that important, until you accidentally eat something that'll make you sick. And sure, maybe you can figure out how to live without one hand, but what about when you wake up three days from now and you've also lost your magic?

Do your best to keep yourself calm, but remember: it can always get worse.

► This log covers May 14th-May 20th.
► Feel free to make your own logs, as well
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► If your lost sense turns out to have been essential to your survival, please let us know here.

Comments

II

[utulien_aure]

"Oh, so that's where you've been," Fingon says as he greets Maglor at the door. He's grim-faced, with a cloak carefully covering his arms and his hair falling unbraided down his back.

And he's clearly eyeing Maglor as he speaks. "Fear's feast is starting, it seems. Are you all right?"

[bythewaves]

Maglor blinks, shaken out of his sulk by the incongruous image of Fingon with his hair down.

He shrugs at the question, but reaches out to brush against the cloak and then indicates Fingon's hair, questions in his eyes.

[utulien_aure]

It’s very strange. Being unable to do his hair properly is a step too far, Fingon feels. It just feels wrong, like being naked in public.

His eyes flick over Maglor curiously, but the question is easy enough to interpret. “It’s not going to fool anyone, is it?” He groans , then holds out his wrists to give his cousin a better look. “I don’t know why I bothered.”

[bythewaves]

Maglor's eyes flash, indignant on his cousin's behalf, as he sees what their hosts have wrought, a soundless growl on his lips.

But he wrinkles his nose at Fingon.

It won't fool family, but those outside... maybe.

[utulien_aure]

Fingon's eyes narrow, "Cano?" That's too quiet for almost anyone, especially Maglor. It takes a few moments, but when he makes the connection an angry look flashes over his face, "Oh, they didn't."

The family are the people he'd like to worry least, so he'll have to reconsider his tactics.

For now, though, he just sighs. "Maybe there's still a few artificial limbs around the Colosseum that Curufin or Telpe can adapt. But if not, I'll be useless for the next few days."

[bythewaves]

Maglor shrugs at him tiredly - yes, they totally did.

He grips Fingon's wrists briefly in support - whatever he wants to try, he'll help.

[utulien_aure]

"Some days, I wonder if they secretly want us to side with the Null," Fingon mutters, disgusted.

He gives a rueful smile at the gesture. "At least this will pass in a few days."

[bythewaves]

That nets him a soundless chuckle, and Maglor reaches out to flick at his hair - want help with that? His eyes search past him though, a question in them - where's Maedhros, who should be the one helping Fingon anyway.

[utulien_aure]

Fingon would love help with his hair, thanks for offering. But even as he nods, he catches Maglor's other meaning and frowns.

"I haven't seen Curufin or Celebrimbor yet, but Russandol was hit hard. He can neither see nor hear."

[bythewaves]

Maglor scowls thunderously - Maedhros has had enough trouble in his life. Sight and hearing are bad losses, and especially so for one who uses those to occasionally check if he's dreaming still.

But Fingon wouldn't be out here answering the door if Maedhros has not, at least, been settled so! He tugs a little at Fingon to come in and sit down. He'll do his hair and then he'll go to Maedhros.

[utulien_aure]

On that matter, the two are in agreement. "He's calm now, mostly," Fingon elaborates. If Maedhros hadn't been, of course, Fingon still would have been up there with him. "But at first he panicked, and I'm not sure whether that was from Maedhros himself or more of Fear's influence."

If he had hands, Fingon would be strongly tempted to head over to the temple and find out. He's still tempted, come to think of it.

But for now, he simply sinks down into the chair to give Maglor the space to do his work.

[bythewaves]

Maglor wrinkles his nose in understanding. Maedhros has plenty of reasons to panic, and a lot of them have very little to do with any of their hosts. He's quite happy to blame Fear though.

He works quickly and efficiently - he had to do Maedhros' hair often, in the day, and although Fingon's preferred style is more elaborate, at the end of the day it's still just braids!

[utulien_aure]

Fear, Fingon imagines, is rather popular to blame for a lot of things around Hadriel. Though it wouldn't be fair to withhold due credit from the rest of his kinsmen, either.

Fingon visibly relaxes as Maglor works; it simply easier to have one more bit of normality around at the moment, even if it's something as small as his hair. "Thank you, Cano. Is there anything I can do for you in return?"

[bythewaves]

Maglor tugs a braid fondly when he's done, as he might have done when they were much younger, and slides around to flop next to him, shrugging at him with a grimace.

He has no idea what to do without his voice.