(no subject)
Jul. 5th, 2009 10:32 pmI've recently been reading a lot of Merlin stories, that take the current show and mix in strains of different Celtic mythology and bits and pieces of historical Britain. The last one I read was The Crown of the Summer Court by
astolat. This particular summer court is the elfin variety.
Which reminded me of my cliche bingo table, and the thought that most of the out of the ordinary folk in Cardiff tend to live underground. Thus, this little gem popped into my head: family of elves from Ireland live in a basement apartment in Adamstown.
They reason why they moved to Cardiff in particular is that they were made unwelcome in their own clan, very unlikely to get accepted into another's clan, and the Cardiff area is the nearest null zone. Cardiff isn't claimed as anyone's territory because of the Rift. For one thing, the probability of one getting washed away by the Rift increases with the amount of time that you live.
They frequent the same tea house as the Tarot Girl. It seems like the kind of place where no one notices ( or asks ) if you keep showing up each Saturday afternoon for the last six decades and haven't aged all that much.
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Which reminded me of my cliche bingo table, and the thought that most of the out of the ordinary folk in Cardiff tend to live underground. Thus, this little gem popped into my head: family of elves from Ireland live in a basement apartment in Adamstown.
They reason why they moved to Cardiff in particular is that they were made unwelcome in their own clan, very unlikely to get accepted into another's clan, and the Cardiff area is the nearest null zone. Cardiff isn't claimed as anyone's territory because of the Rift. For one thing, the probability of one getting washed away by the Rift increases with the amount of time that you live.
They frequent the same tea house as the Tarot Girl. It seems like the kind of place where no one notices ( or asks ) if you keep showing up each Saturday afternoon for the last six decades and haven't aged all that much.