He did not expect to wake up drenched in water, getting dragged out of a fountain like semi-drowned kitten with no respect for his name or station. In fact, he did not expect to wake up at all. All this is secondary. Curiosity vies with anger for control, while Fëanor looks around takes in the surroundings, trying to no avail to identify anything familiar in it. Strange people he does no recognize. They tell him to calm down. Calm down! Ha!
Curiosity does win in the end. Fëanor accepts the clothes he's been given. Noticing not without a fair amount of disdain the poor craftsmanship of their make. Truly, someone should send both the weaver and the tailor back to their respective apprenticeships for this fabric abomination. He does follow the chatty youngster though. Does not even interrupt too often. The moment he realizes this is not Arda. That those people, if there's truth to their words, have pulled his fëa from under the greedy paws of the Valar, his mood shifts and he laughs frightening the young apprentice who looks for the first possible occasion to free himself of his company.
Fëanor pays him no mind. Let the child go. He can take care of himself. This is brilliant! He might have left his affairs unfinished, but the very fact that someone was able to pull such a number on the mighty Powers of Arda is endlessly funny. He has already realized the people here are no Eldar. They have the coldness and a shadow about them that's entirely unfamiliar. It alone supports the theory this is indeed not Arda, but some other completely different realm. Excellent.
Cupcake decoration
Why would you even be given a piece cake if you weren't expected to form an opinion on it? Fëanor is rather disappointed that his own is not taken with appropriate respect. He had no chance to speak with its maker, but he is curious of his technique. So he does not join the lessons expecting to learn something, merely wanting to witness the chef at work.
He shares his opinion with any poor soul that gets unlucky enough to be paired with him.
"I do think the whole set piece was needlessly top heavy, but the balance of flavours was quite alright. Especially, when compared to the other two."
Magic lessons
"Interesting."
Fëanor is more lenient to those who are still learning. Himself, he picks up the spell immediately. After a second try, his execution is flawless. It was only the second because he was too occupied trying to dissect the wording of the spell to pay enough attention for getting it completely right. He seems to be perfectly fine with ceaseless light explosions. Honestly, it can't be called a good practice if someone is not getting a third-degree burn once in a while.
Dewey's Decimal
He knows a failed project when he sees one, but he also takes pity on the poor apprentice with true fear in his eyes. He's in a good mood, with not much to do, and isn't this an opportunity to look through what is studied here. Maybe something catches his interest? For now, he hasn't seen a proper forge, so a library will do. Adding another spell to his collection does not hurt either. With two, it's a bit early to get their system figured out, but Fëanor feels he's on a good path. But pity does not make him hold back on honest opinions, or rather chastising criticism.
"This idiotic and overly complex system," he declares. "But I see why it's an improvement over existing one. It might be a good start."
Nocwich
Fëanor did not bother to change into any other attire for his visit. In fact, he was too busy investigating the pendant he was given to even think about it. Given complete freedom to explore Nocwich, he does exactly so. Making notes on anything that catches his interest. Which is, frankly, everything.
Wildcard [OOC: Feel free to assume meeting Fëanor anywhere around Castle of Thorne or Nocwich. He'll be going around and inevitably having strong opinions on everything. Most of them very damning. His standards for any craftsmanship are sky high, and he doesn't feel silly things like politeness should stop him from expressing said opinions. So it's entirely ok to assume he has just criticized something, or someone's work or went on some overly long tirade on how things could be done more efficiently. Either PM or bitweaver works for plotting.]
Fëanor | JRR Tolkien's The Silmarillion | Thorne | The Tower
Curiosity does win in the end. Fëanor accepts the clothes he's been given. Noticing not without a fair amount of disdain the poor craftsmanship of their make. Truly, someone should send both the weaver and the tailor back to their respective apprenticeships for this fabric abomination. He does follow the chatty youngster though. Does not even interrupt too often. The moment he realizes this is not Arda. That those people, if there's truth to their words, have pulled his fëa from under the greedy paws of the Valar, his mood shifts and he laughs frightening the young apprentice who looks for the first possible occasion to free himself of his company.
Fëanor pays him no mind. Let the child go. He can take care of himself. This is brilliant! He might have left his affairs unfinished, but the very fact that someone was able to pull such a number on the mighty Powers of Arda is endlessly funny. He has already realized the people here are no Eldar. They have the coldness and a shadow about them that's entirely unfamiliar. It alone supports the theory this is indeed not Arda, but some other completely different realm. Excellent.
Cupcake decoration
Why would you even be given a piece cake if you weren't expected to form an opinion on it? Fëanor is rather disappointed that his own is not taken with appropriate respect. He had no chance to speak with its maker, but he is curious of his technique. So he does not join the lessons expecting to learn something, merely wanting to witness the chef at work.
He shares his opinion with any poor soul that gets unlucky enough to be paired with him.
"I do think the whole set piece was needlessly top heavy, but the balance of flavours was quite alright. Especially, when compared to the other two."
Magic lessons
"Interesting."
Fëanor is more lenient to those who are still learning. Himself, he picks up the spell immediately. After a second try, his execution is flawless. It was only the second because he was too occupied trying to dissect the wording of the spell to pay enough attention for getting it completely right. He seems to be perfectly fine with ceaseless light explosions. Honestly, it can't be called a good practice if someone is not getting a third-degree burn once in a while.
Dewey's Decimal
He knows a failed project when he sees one, but he also takes pity on the poor apprentice with true fear in his eyes. He's in a good mood, with not much to do, and isn't this an opportunity to look through what is studied here. Maybe something catches his interest? For now, he hasn't seen a proper forge, so a library will do.
Adding another spell to his collection does not hurt either. With two, it's a bit early to get their system figured out, but Fëanor feels he's on a good path. But pity does not make him hold back on honest opinions, or rather chastising criticism.
"This idiotic and overly complex system," he declares. "But I see why it's an improvement over existing one. It might be a good start."
Nocwich
Fëanor did not bother to change into any other attire for his visit. In fact, he was too busy investigating the pendant he was given to even think about it. Given complete freedom to explore Nocwich, he does exactly so. Making notes on anything that catches his interest. Which is, frankly, everything.
Wildcard
[OOC: Feel free to assume meeting Fëanor anywhere around Castle of Thorne or Nocwich. He'll be going around and inevitably having strong opinions on everything. Most of them very damning. His standards for any craftsmanship are sky high, and he doesn't feel silly things like politeness should stop him from expressing said opinions. So it's entirely ok to assume he has just criticized something, or someone's work or went on some overly long tirade on how things could be done more efficiently.
Either PM or