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Prince of Mirkwood [12 Jan 2009|11:18pm]

ichorinmyveins
Title: Prince of Mirkwood
Pairing: Legolas/Aragorn
Summary: An incident triggers the war in Middle Earth
 Type:        AU. There is no ring.


Chapter 1 to 6
ichorinmyveins.livejournal.com/20830.html#cutid1
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Orlando's Bed [21 Oct 2002|11:05pm]

orlando_b
"Good," Viggo says, unbuttoning his shirt and putting it over a chair, then his trousers follow, leaving just his boxers--which he doesn't intend to take off.

Orlando smiles at Viggo, his eyes lingering on the older man's body -- lingering on his tonned body. He swallows hard, but then turns his back to Viggo, strips off his shirt and and his trousers, and tosses them somewhere in the room.

He slowly climbs into his bed, and flops down, facing Viggo. "Going to join me?"
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Dom's room . . . [21 Oct 2002|11:14am]

lij
[ mood | satisfied ]

Elijah always wakes up instantly alert; a little talent he has. From complete blackness to a darkened room, the shades pulled close, daylight peeking through the cracks. It's very warm, very soft--Elijah snuggles in, brushing up against flesh, a tickle of hair, a light musky scent. Oh yes. Dom's room. Dom's limbs entwined with his, their warmth shared under the soft duvet.

Elijah smiles.

Saturday today; no plans, no obligations, just sweet time to do anything he pleases, hopefully with this young man. Maybe hit a music store, maybe a movie--maybe some naughtiness in said movie, heh. Or walk--he likes this town; plenty Elijah hasn't seen yet. See what Dom's favorite places are--that'd be fun.

For a long moment, Elijah doesn't move, not wanting to disturb Dom who's still fast asleep, his mouth slightly open, dark lashes fluttering against his ruddy cheeks. Ever so lightly he runs the tip of his finger over Dom's brow, feeling the feather-light touch of his hair, how the whole face is relaxed now, in repose. Like him, Elijah doubts Dom is ever in repose much when he's awake. Except maybe in yoga--that's one thing he's found that can calm the nervous energy, help him find a stable center. Or photography. Sometimes, getting that perfect shot, he's completely at peace.

Leaning forward just a bit, Elijah kisses Dom lightly on the lips. He hopes Dom will sleep a bit longer, but Elijah kind of has to take care of a couple needs.

"Be right back," he whispers, and very slowly and carefully pulls away disentangling them. Dom's still sleeping when Elijah heads for the bathroom, wondering if Dom here will mind if he uses his toothbrush . . .

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Where no man has gone before? Doubt it but...... [21 Oct 2002|01:25pm]

mortensen
Orlando blushes, pulling his keys out and unlocking his door. He kicks it open, and glances back at Viggo.

"My flat. The final frontier."


Viggo chuckles, entering into Orlando's flat and looking around curiously. You can tell a lot about a person from the way their dwelling looks--you can definately tell a musican lives here, a young one at that. I do a complete circle, then my eyes rest on the younger man again.

"Nice place."
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[13 Oct 2002|10:55pm]

sheffield
The club is quite full, the clientele an interesting mix. Wandering through the maze of tables and patrons getting to the bar, Sean sees a familiar face. Or maybe not. The man he had a nodding acquaintance with at his old pub would not be sitting so close to another man, Sean thinks. He wouldn't look so entranced with what the other young man is saying.

When the lights change, and the singer calls his hello to the crowd, Sean glances over. Tall, handsome, young. Sean wonders when so much of the world got to be younger than he is. He looks back to the bar and finds two empty stools where he thought he'd seen 'whats-his-name' from McBurns.

Well, he thinks, didn't think things went quite that way, but... Feeling somehow even more old and alone than usual, Sean makes his way to the bar and orders a Guinness. Leaning back, elbows on the bar, he continues to survey the crowd, listening to the music, and wondering why things have to change the way they do.
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[02 Oct 2002|12:45pm]

thatboywho
[ mood | curious ]

He yawns and rolls off of the bed.

"Jet lag." He mumbles as his cel goes off. "Hello?" Pause. "Yes. Ok. Tomorrow." Then hangs up. Meeting, tomorrow. But tonight it's all him. He's never been to England, but he always wanted to go. And now, via work, he is.

He wonders around and ends up at a bar. He yawns again and enters.

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(cont'd) Lij/Dom @ Dom's flat [30 Sep 2002|12:26pm]

domaghan
Dom drives the key into the lock, pushing the door inwards as he looks at Elijah over his shoulder. Elijah is going on--has been going on for the last ten minutes, in fact, most of the taxi ride--about exactly what he thinks of North London. It's all rubbish, however, and Dom is perfectly content listening to the voice rather than the words, once again. It occurs to him that this may make him superficial, but he's not even sure Elijah is really listening to himself talk, so they're even.

Elijah's hand is hovering near his back pocket still, having now abandoned any pretense of... well, there never really was any pretense, was there. Dom reaches out and pulls Elijah into his flat by the collar. Elijah stops talking and grins.

Dom flicks on the light switch and throws his keys into his coat pocket, then throws the coat on a hook by the door, gesturing for Elijah to do the same. He rubs his hands together, suddenly crackling with too much energy.

"So! Were you serious about that coffee? Because my coffee isn't that great, I'm told. Weak. Who drinks coffee anyway." He's babbling, he knows it, but somehow 'Let's fuck!' doesn't sound quite right either.
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[28 Sep 2002|01:16pm]

sheffield
Sean stands in front of the gap in the block that used to be his favorite pub. McBurns. Not much left of it, especially after the arson division did their thing. Sean figures its a good thing the little bugger who torched McBurns is safe behind bars, because Sean would like to express his displeasure -personally-.

The evening is pleasant, and Sean figures the air would do him good, so he picks a random direction and begins to walk.

Two blocks down, he begins to hear music. Following the sound, he finds himself in front of a club. 'Jazz After Dark'. Spiffy little name, he thinks. He pushes open the door and enters.
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[27 Sep 2002|07:12pm]

orlando_b
[ mood | nervous ]

Orlando gets out of his car, heading into Jazz After Dark through the back door. He is greeted by one of the waitresses, Molly, who tells him that it's a packed house. Orlando smiles and gives her a kiss on the cheek as she makes her way out onto the stage.

"Good evening everyone! Hope you're all enjoying the food and drinks, and hopefully you'll enjoy our first act of the night. Everyone please give a big round of applause for - my favourite jazz artist - Orlando Bloom!"

And for some reason, Orlando doesn't think he's been as nevous as he is tonight before. He slowly makes his way out onto te stage and sits at the piano, drawing the mic close to him.


Hey, everyone! How are you all doing?

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OOC: Anyone alive? [25 Sep 2002|06:39pm]

mortensen
Hey ......anyone else alive besides Dom, Lij and myself? *looks around a bit forlornly* Did you guys lose interest while we were waiting on an answer or summat?

*checks for heartbeats*
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[23 Sep 2002|09:45pm]

domaghan
It takes a moment for Dom's eyes to adjust to the dim lighting of the place as the door swing shut behind him. He feels like he's bringing some of the humid cold in with him, and he's glad for the club's sudden heavy warmth.

Round tables occupy most of the space between the door and the small stage at the back, where a piano and an upright bass lay in wait. The low hum of conversation and a soft jazz recording permeate the air lit with the red glow of votive candles spread like fireflies across the dark corners of the club.

Dom shrugs off his coat and makes his way to the bar.

"Gin and tonic, please."

He plays with the cocktail napkin distractedly as his eyes scan the moving shadows for familiar faces. But this is not his usual crowd.
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Jazz After Dark [22 Sep 2002|06:22pm]

mortensen
I check my reflection in the mirror, and realise I'm in bad need of a brush. I take care of that while I search for the pair of black boots that will go best with the black trousers and black button up I've got on. Finally, I liberate them from a pile of sketches and photographs on the floor. Slipping my knapsack over my shoulder, I turn out the lights in the flat, then head out the door to the nearest underground entrance.

My destination tonight? Jazz After Dark. I've heard about this little jazz club, time to see if the talk does it justice, or simply hype it up. At the very least, maybe I'll hear some good music, have a few drinks.

After about a half hour worth of subway interchanges, I emerge onto the street again, and find the place fairly easily--a few steps leading down to the doorway into the club. Entering, my eyes adjust to the dim, rather smokey atmosphere easily. There's no music just yet--well there is house music, but nothing live yet. It seems people are waiting around for something though.

Moving over to the bar, I order a drink and sit on a stool, eyes moving over the room and those gathered, humming along wtih the jazz coming from the speakers

OOC: There's a start! Viggo has arrived!
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