Eric carries Alec through the portal to his appartment. After setting him carefully down on the couch, he goes to the closet and finds a spare blanket, which he places over the other man. Then he slips into the kitchen to start some tea.

You really expect a Bard to choose only seven songs???

Instructions: List seven songs you are into right now. No matter what the genre, whether they have words, or even if they're any good, but they must be songs you're really enjoying now. Post these instructions in your Livejournal along with your seven songs. Then tag seven other people to see what they're listening to.

( What I'm listening to )

I'm not going to tag people beacuase I can't think of seven people who read this journal. Pathetic, hmm?

LIVE TRUMPS nybard Player 2329 nybard Social Rating 16 Sophistication 17 Speed 0.52 Honesty 100.00% Ambiguity 84 Depth 12 Parent reluctantbelief watch nybard fight CREATE YOUR CARD

UPDATED CARD:

LIVE TRUMPS 1.1

watch nybard fight

CREATE YOUR CARD

((Let's all thank Veet for the new icon. Eric deserves it. Big time.))

Terenil. In the Nexus. Drinking Coke. If I help him, will I change my future? If he's sober, will he not die?

1) Bold what is true about you.
2) Italicize what you wish was true about you.
3) Add one true thing about you to the end of the list.

( About the Bard )

Veet and I were discussing the series, and how all the titles are from the song Mad Tom O'Bedlam. And so we thought, hmmm, I wonder what the next one will be called? So, place your bets, if you will. You won't win anything, of course, because I'm cheap, but you'll get a wonderful warm glow.

( Mad Tom O'Bedlam )
I vote for the ten thousand harlots, myself.
ETA: To have a serious vote, I'm going with "For which to feed the fairies"

Taken from Ali.

If you had me alone...locked up in your house for twenty-four hours and I had to do whatever you wanted me to, what would you do with me? Then repost this.

Damn. Never, ever, ever say the words "I am glad I don't have an alternate" withing fifty feet of a portal to the Nexus. Never. Me, from the night Maureen dumped me. Right before I woke up Korendil. When everything was at its worst...

Eric sets the little one down on the grass in the middle of Central Park. After establishing a few shields against any baddies that might happen across them, he starts playing softly. Your daughter is safe, and in my care. Come to me here. She will be returned to you.

Eric mutters to himself as he glares at the teakettle until it boils. "Teenagers. Can't live with them, and murder's too risky." He snorts.

Eric assembles his flute and raises it slowly to his lips. He holds it there for a moment as he decides what to play. He smiles, and soon the notes of the third Brandenburg Concerto fill the air. He can't always play the Celtic stuff, after all. He's always liked the structure, the solidity of Bach's Brandenburgs.

I seem to be mentally stable again, at least, as much as I can ever be. As much as I hate to admit it, therapy helps alot. That is, if you're the one paying the bills, and the therapist isn't just trying to please your parents. It's been really quiet lately. Is it wrong of me to be looking into the shadows, wondering what's next?

Note to self: I need to talk to Dr. Dunaway. I said something to Magnus earlier that made me worry about... myself. Power. All that jazz. Also, need to remember to mention Alec's problem to her, see if she can help.

((Eric is being reset for serious, back-to-canon roleplaying. To start out with, at least. I've lost touch with him over the long period of disuse. He's going back to the beginning. Any friends he made in various RPs are welcome to continue talking to him, but their relationships might change. And... Sorry, Ellen, but re-applying canon means he's still with Ria. Not that it matters, as he hasn't been around for months, anyway. I'm sure she's living without him. And yes, I know how irritating this is for everyone involved, but it's the only way I can bring him back to life. And he deserves to live.))

Eric rushed around, tidying up the clutter of a student who doesn't have much time for cleaning. He shoved most of his posessions in his bedroom, since, unless something unexpected happened, they wouldn't go in there, and if it DID, then they wouldn't be thinking about the decor. Or the mess. He blushed slightly, trying to get those thoughts out of his head. After it was, if not spotless, at least neat, he sent a questioning thought towards the roof.

:Greystone?:

:Aye, laddybuck?: the gargoyle responded, his thoughts even in his colorful Bronx-Irish accent.

:I'm having a friend over for a bit... She has no magical experience, and I'd like to keep it that way for now. So...: He broke off, hoping he hadn't offended his friend.

There was a mental chuckle as Greystone considered that. :So, I take it I'm not invited to the party.:

:For now, at least,: Eric replied gratefully. :I just don't know how she'd react. I want to ease her into this slowly.:

:No prob, kiddo. Have fun.: There was a distinct leer in the gargoyle's thought.

:It's not like that!: Eric could feel his cheeks heating.

:I know, laddybuck. I just love that red color you turn.:

"Oh, shut up," he muttered. He ran to the kitchen to check his stock of sodas and water for perhaps the fiftieth time.