Arky, Arky....

First off: *waves* I have been thinking about you lot. I've also just been busy and tired and not really making the space for any kind of web activity that can't be managed while I'm waiting for the bus. (Which FB and Tumblr are set up for; El Jay really isn't.)

It's been a while since I've felt quite so hammered by reality. It's the weather. It's this current joke of a US presidency, and the hatred and callousness it enables. It's the fact that Angela Merkel, of all people, now shines as a paragon of liberal enlightenment, which is depressing by its own lights. But mostly it's the weather and what that represents, that people can't even have that most basic physical safety. I mean, America seems (and it's really not that much of an exaggeration!) half on fire and half underwater just now.

Still, I'm sitting pretty in New York enjoying the cooler weather and the return of pumpkin spice everything. Including the donut I just bought. (It really is good!). So whatever angst I feel is the second-hand abstract kind, not what a lot of you are dealing with in the flesh.

(Side note: if you're safe and living some place where I might worry, would love to hear as much!)

I did get a news alert on my phone tonight that the storm is changing directions toward Tampa, where I do have family. But they're used to storms, and there's not mobility issues or anything with them. So if there's a real threat to where they live they know well enough how to get out of there. Actually, the main thing the alert did was remind me of another Florida hurricane, I'm not even sure which one. Over a decade ago, I received some traumatic news and then promptly got locked down in my office at an ESL school where where I was teaching for the summer. But that's just a memory rather than a flash-back, so while I could do without the reminder, it's kind of nice to see how I've come a bit back from that.m

Fannish-wise, I'm afraid there's nothing much going on with me. Desire, drive, ideas, etc. - all there, but no real projects. Just got other RL stuff on my mind. I am enjoying consuming it a bit. And I'm rereading snatches of HP when I find the time - what a difference a decade makes, in how you read those stories!

What have you all been up to?

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A  story nugget I may flesh out when I'm less cold med-befuddled. It seemed like a good idea in the shower and I don't want to forget it, at least.

Meneldil (Anarion's son, Elendil's grandson, maybe 1-2 years old at time of Akallabeth) lands in Middle-earth and is promptly sent off to foster in Dol Amroth. When the Faithful first landed, their situation would be tenuous at best, not exactly the safest situation for a two-year-old prince, and there was a more-established community of the Faithful that could protect him. Maybe some of the other children, too, but certainly not his adult family members who'd be needed to build their settlement. The upshot being: Meneldil survives the storm, and then he's bundled off to live with strangers.

Enter another storm. Just a regular one, but a real howler if you're so young with that history. So he does the only thing he can think of: finds the highest ground he can think of, specifically the aviary. This is a community of Faithful who are back in Middle-earth where Manwe's eagles might actually be expected again, on top of which there was an elven setlement not too far off they'd probably be communicating with. Of course they'd have an aviary. (Though, what is it with me with stories set there?) And he finds (or is found by) another boy, maybe one of the attendants or just another child in the stronghold -- working idea is he's a very different kind of refugee, maybe from a family that escaped Sauron out of Harad who dreams of becoming a Swan Knight if he's very smart and lucky -- and they just have a bit of conversation. And the other boy shows Meneldil how high the cliffs are and how the waves are breaking not even half way up, that kind of thing.

Basically: Meneldil is sent away for his own good (though it would hardly feel like that) and makes a friend of an unexpected sort.

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