Hair Dye, Cloning and General Epic Chaoticness

[Maedhros_Nelyafinwë]

Welcome to the Chaotic RP of TTF! This is a fun, spontaneous, lighthearted, and most importantly, chaotic RP which is available to anyone who wishes to join. While our primary goal is to have fun, we have a few rules in order to keep some method to the madness.

• Firstly, each character belongs to their respective TTF user. In other words, you can't write for a character if someone else has claimed that character. If you're new to the thread, please ask the group which characters are available before you claim one.
• Even though this thread is chaotic and spontaneous, we do have a storyline going. If you're new to the thread, please read the most recent few pages, or more, so you're caught up on what's going on.
• Make sure to interact with other people's characters. Don't just go off and write your own thing without interacting with anybody.
• Don't completely ignore or change the storyline.
• At the same time, please be flexible if someone introduces a new turn of the plot. This is not a carefully planned RP, and it needs to have flexibility for any chaotic new thing someone comes up with (within reason-- it does need to connect to the main story at least loosely).
• If you are writing for multiple characters, use a script format to indicate which character is speaking. Use asterisks* to denote action. For example:
  • Maitimo: *tries to shake Celeraccoon off his arm* STOP BITING ME, TYELKO!
• Try to keep spam to a minimum. I would define "spamming" in this thread as writing more than a page over the course of a few hours. (This can be a tough one to follow, I know.) But spamming makes it hard for other people to keep up.
• At the same time, if you're going to be absent for an extended period of time, we recommend writing your character out temporarily (such as having them disappear or go somewhere) so other people can continue while you're gone.

That's all I can think of for now. If you have any questions or need any help, please feel free to ask!

 

[Glorfindel Goldtress]

*an aroma of mayo soup with spinach and mushrooms and raisins drifts out. All the prisoners gag.*

*Laurinalótë gapes, her petals widening, as she glances over at the sight, then down at her dissolving pile of food.* Now, how am I supposed to fly soup?

*Maitimo nods his thanks to Laurinalotë, realizing what she's up to.*

*Bobs her petals back, strategizing what to do about the soup.*
Oh, I'll just eat what I've got first. *Takes her first absorbent of hot sauce pancakes. Steam begins to rise from her petal centers, and her golden petals gain a temporary reddish hue.* ...I'm sure this is normal. *She murmurs, steadily absorbing more and more. She then tries the absorbent of anchovy and chip, and her leaves flap.* That's hypertonic...! I need liquid. *Glances down at the soup again and sends out her dust into the kitchen with a well-timed whoosh, fetching the whole pot to her.* Of course, I didn't have to lift the soup out of the pot... When desperate measures call for action, the solution can be found! Or, where there's a will, there's a way, alternatively.

*sees the flower in his hair* Oh, what a pretty flower we have here! *peers and pokes at it*

*Laurinalótë holds entirely still, subtly keeping her leaves woven in Maitimo's hair in a way she couldn't be pulled out. Unless Thuringwethil wished for her prisoner to balden, that is.*

 

[Maedhros_Nelyafinwë]

Unless Thuringwethil wished for her prisoner to balden, that is

(YOU WOULDN'T, Thuringwethil! Not so close to his wedding!!)

 

[Fingon_Findekáno]

(YOU WOULDN'T, Thuringwethil! Not so close to his wedding!!)

(I am rather quite enjoying tormenting Maitimo right now, so no guarantees. Maybe at least a nice haircut… 👀)

 

[Tyelkormo the Fair]

Ingwë, Ilwen, Denver and a small band of servants journey through the mines to Angband's door, beneath the sea.
As they approach, Denver's hoofbeats slow and he begins to fall behind.

Denver: *whimpers*
Ilwen: We're getting closer, aren't we? To the whip.
*Denver nods mutely*
Denver: Sometimes I get this feeling like I'm hearing it, in the night. But it's just water, falling into pools.
Ilwen: You hate the sound most?
Denver: Yeah.
Ilwen: More than the feel?
Denver: A lot more.
Ilwen: Is that because...because he used to use it on someone else?
*Denver stops. Ilwen reaches out to touch him, but his heat is too great*
Ilwen: It wasn't your fault, you know.
Denver: Her name was Meneldilmë. She was a fire spirit, I guess, but...not like the rest of us. She didn't burn. She just kind of...glowed, you know? Like fireflies. Or like a boat in a harbour in the night, when you're standing on the shore. She took the curse right in the face, like me. But even when she was a balrog, she wouldn't roar or scream. Not Meneldimë: she'd climb up to the surface in the night, and crawl in the forests, close as she could get to the human camps. She'd wave her glowing tail in the air, and the human kids'd say, 'hey, it's a glowbug!'.
*He walks on again, placidly*
Denver: Morgoth hated her. Always gave her the whip. All she had to do was swallow loudly, or clear her throat, and crack. I guess...I guess he couldn't bear the idea that he'd made something beautiful by accident.
Ilwen: Did you love her?
*Denver shrugs*
Denver: Probably would've done, in the end. We were too young for that. One day, the orcs left the gate of the young balrogs' yard open. Didn't usually matter, because as soon as you got close, the whip'd find you. But I'd sit and stare at it, all the same. Stare at the freedom, let it stare at me. Then I hear this screaming and cracking, and I see the boss whipping Meneldilmë again, in front of eveyrone. I turn to help, but she just gives me this look, like, 'it's ok, go'. He beat her a long time. By the time the whip noticed, I was free.

A great smooth gate rises in a cavern ahead: metal, yet cold and exhaling a vapour, as of ice. Angband.
Ilwen: I'm sorry, Denver. But it'll be alright, you'll see. Balrog's don't just go missing. Odds are, she's waiting for you, just on the other side of that gate.
Denver: Yeah. Maybe.
*Ilwen moves to rejoin the king*
*Denver looks after her silently, then walks away.*

(Damn I never thought I'd feel bad for balrogs...)

 

[Tyelkormo the Fair]

Morgoth: *from the kitchen* MAIRON! Be nice to our lovely vampire lady friend! There has never been such a picture of sophisticated grace and elegance!

...here, Thuri.
*Gives her a cherry pie*

(If you know, you know.)

 

[Maedhros_Nelyafinwë]

Thuringwethil: *Feigns shock, then rolls her eyes and smiles maliciously as she pats their heads.* Tut tut now, little ones. You will learn to love it here just as much as Russamól did, and still does.

Maitimo: Then can you explain the 0.5 out of 5 star review I gave you guys on Yelp? Which by the way, was generous.

Fëanor: I will do the same thing once we defeat you sorry criminals and get out of here!

Aranya: And I will write a review that will leave you crying and crawling back into whatever cursed slimy pit you crawled out of!

*Bobs her petals back, strategizing what to do about the soup.*
Oh, I'll just eat what I've got first. *Takes her first absorbent of hot sauce pancakes. Steam begins to rise from her petal centers, and her golden petals gain a temporary reddish hue.* ...I'm sure this is normal. *She murmurs, steadily absorbing more and more. She then tries the absorbent of anchovy and chip, and her leaves flap.* That's hypertonic...! I need liquid. *Glances down at the soup again and sends out her dust into the kitchen with a well-timed whoosh, fetching the whole pot to her.* Of course, I didn't have to lift the soup out of the pot... When desperate measures call for action, the solution can be found! Or, where there's a will, there's a way, alternatively.

*While Fëanor and Aranya are yelling, Maitimo whispers to Laurinalotë:* Hey, are you okay? Won't it make you sick to eat all that? That stuff makes Elves sick, at least. Ask me how I know.

 

[Glorfindel Goldtress]

*While Fëanor and Aranya are yelling, Maitimo whispers to Laurinalotë:* Hey, are you okay? Won't it make you sick to eat all that? That stuff makes Elves sick, at least. Ask me how I know.

*Laurinalótë pauses in her absorbing of the soup.* I will admit... if I had a raccoon with me, this would be much more manageable. But that would be asking too much, now wouldn't it...? *Takes a deep flowery breath, and continues absorbing each of the very appetizing confections. Flower metabolism would have to be enough for now, by her lady's grace.*

 

[Fingon_Findekáno]

*Glances down at the soup again and sends out her dust into the kitchen with a well-timed whoosh, fetching the whole pot to her.* Of course, I didn't have to lift the soup out of the pot...

*Tauriel hums to herself in the kitchen as she tosses in another jar of mayo to the soup, glass and all. She turns her back to the pot for a minute as she goes to the heated pantry for liquified sardine, but when she returns, the pot is gone. Confuzzled, she looks everywhere for it. A pot can’t just walk away, can it? And she didn’t hear anyone come into the kitchen...*

*Peeking her head out the kitchen door, she discreetly whispers to her boss.* Um, Mr. Gothmore? There seems to be a problem in the kitchen. All the food keeps disappearing with no explanation.

Maitimo: Then can you explain the 0.5 out of 5 star review I gave you guys on Yelp? Which by the way, was generous.

Fëanor: I will do the same thing once we defeat you sorry criminals and get out of here!

Aranya: And I will write a review that will leave you crying and crawling back into whatever cursed slimy pit you crawled out of!

Thuringwethil: Tsk. Such ingratitude among you Elves these days. Russamól, we gave you a home and fed you, and you still only gave us half a star?

Not to worry. We’ll address all these issues in due time. *grinning maliciously as she stares at the three of them*

*Laurinalótë holds entirely still, subtly keeping her leaves woven in Maitimo's hair in a way she couldn't be pulled out. Unless Thuringwethil wished for her prisoner to balden, that is.*

*Thuringwethil continues examining the flower.* Mairon, don’t you think this flower would look great on me? Or maybe on dear Draugluin or Tevildo! *She pets the flower before grasping it and Maitimo’s hair, but just as she is about to pull, her attention is called away. Pouting, she releases them both.* Ah, maybe later, then!

...here, Thuri.
*Gives her a cherry pie*

*gasps* I know the perfect use for this.

*Mixes hot sauce, sauerkraut, and pickled pig’s feet juice in the pie before serving it into three bowls and sets them before the prisoners, with a steaming hot cup of extra strong sweat coffee for each.* Feeding time!


Meanwhile, in the Tunnel…
*Fingon and the others are making their way through the tunnel in the dark, which seems to have become a downward slope. Finding the hot, noxious stench overwhelming, he tries holding his breath or covering his mouth and nose at times, though neither do much to help. He reaches out and puts a hand on Maglor’s shoulder to make sure he’s still there.*

*After some time, he thinks he can possibly make out two shapes up ahead, and some dim lighting. Motioning for the others to follow him, he stealthily sneaks up behind the two figures, before making his move.* BOO!

 

[Finwë]

Amrod: I don’t know if it can disappear or not, but Nelyo did mention there’s a giant talking cat down there. Isn’t that close enough? I’ll have to ask him later if it ever said anything peculiar during his captivity…

*to Finwë* So did Ingwë say if he was going to meet with the others? Where is he now?

Finwe *Pockets his phone*: I think he's planning on opening Angband's gate somehow. They're heading towards it right now.

 

[Server Room Gremlin]

*In the storeroom, Curufin stays hidden behind a few crates, not touching them as they appear to be stuck to each other with mould and an unidentifiable fungus. He can hear the racket made by Morgoth and his evil servants, and he is collecting his thoughts, thinking about possible approaches to this situation.*

*Tancaquárë silently rises and heads over to the storeroom door. It is already slightly open, and she peers out. It opens onto an empty corridor, and from the sounds, the kitchen is not too far down the hall. She returns and crouches beside Curufin.*

Tancaquárë: The coast is clear at the moment. The kitchen is down the corridor to the left.

Curufin: From the sound of it, there is only that... eccentric... elf woman in the kitchen. She appears quite oblivious, and therefore she should not give us much trouble if we enter that way.

*he appears to realise something*

Morgoth doesn't know you, does he? You're a complete unknown to anyone in there. If you were to pretend to be on their side, or at least someone willing to join them, you could cause a distraction while I... *he trails off, unsure if she would agree to such a thing, especially as they had not parted on the best of terms, long ago*

Tancaquárë: As I said, I am here to help. If this is a possible way forward, I shall make an attempt.

*Curufin convinces himself that his eyes are only watering due to the dusty, unclean atmosphere*

*He senses a faint something, an uncomfortable aura coming from behind, like a ray of sunshine, inevitably approaching*
*he inhales-*

*After some time, he thinks he can possibly make out two shapes up ahead, and some dim lighting. Motioning for the others to follow him, he stealthily sneaks up behind the two figures, before making his move.* BOO!

*Tancaquárë whirls around in an instant and whacks their surprise assailant with her sling (fortunately not loaded)*

Curufin: *turning to face his cousin with a tiny smirk* It's just Findekáno, try not to assassinate him.

 

[Ashley]

Finwe *Pockets his phone*: I think he's planning on opening Angband's gate somehow. They're heading towards it right now.

Do you think we should join them or follow the others? Pityo, you ready to check out Wonderland?

 

[Fingon_Findekáno]

Do you think we should join them or follow the others? Pityo, you ready to check out Wonderland?

Amrod: *starting to get a little nervous* Findekáno told us to keep Haru Finwë safe. We don’t know exactly what is down that hole, or what happened to the others, and there’s no way to know where Ingwë is either, let alone reach him. This could very well be Morgoth we’re talking about, who slew Haru last time. *clings to Finwë in a tight hug*

*Tancaquárë whirls around in an instant and whacks their surprise assailant with her sling (fortunately not loaded)*

Curufin: *turning to face his cousin with a tiny smirk* It's just Findekáno, try not to assassinate him.

*Fingon yelps and stumbles backwards into Maglor’s arms from the shock of being hit. Massaging his cheekbone, he rights himself quickly and flashes a grin back, followed by a small wince.* Good to see you too, cousin.

 

[Tyelkormo the Fair]

*Laurinalótë pauses in her absorbing of the soup.* I will admit... if I had a raccoon with me, this would be much more manageable. But that would be asking too much, now wouldn't it...? *Takes a deep flowery breath, and continues absorbing each of the very appetizing confections. Flower metabolism would have to be enough for now, by her lady's grace.*

Celeraccoon: I sense a summon...
Siren Girl: as in...?
Celeraccoon: yes.

*Thuringwethil continues examining the flower.* Mairon, don’t you think this flower would look great on me? Or maybe on dear Draugluin or Tevildo! *She pets the flower before grasping it and Maitimo’s hair, but just as she is about to pull, her attention is called away. Pouting, she releases them both.* Ah, maybe later, then!

But Thuri...I spent a lot of time making that. Aren't you even going to try it?🥺

 

[Laurë]

Meanwhile, in the Tunnel…
*Fingon and the others are making their way through the tunnel in the dark, which seems to have become a downward slope. Finding the hot, noxious stench overwhelming, he tries holding his breath or covering his mouth and nose at times, though neither do much to help. He reaches out and puts a hand on Maglor’s shoulder to make sure he’s still there.*

*After some time, he thinks he can possibly make out two shapes up ahead, and some dim lighting. Motioning for the others to follow him, he stealthily sneaks up behind the two figures, before making his move.* BOO!

*Maglor jumps visibly even though he'd known Fingon was there, and he wasn't the target of the prank* MANWË ABOVE--

*Fingon yelps and stumbles backwards into Maglor’s arms from the shock of being hit. Massaging his cheekbone, he rights himself quickly and flashes a grin back, followed by a small wince.* Good to see you too, cousin.

*He helps Fingon right himself* That's what you get for playing tricks! Honestly, this is not the time--aren't we trying to be stealthy?
More importantly you scared me 😭

 

[Tyelkormo the Fair]

(@J. Magi I'm here for the whinny, sissy Maglor.)

 

[Maedhros_Nelyafinwë]

*Tauriel hums to herself in the kitchen as she tosses in another jar of mayo to the soup, glass and all. She turns her back to the pot for a minute as she goes to the heated pantry for liquified sardine, but when she returns, the pot is gone. Confuzzled, she looks everywhere for it. A pot can’t just walk away, can it? And she didn’t hear anyone come into the kitchen...*

*Peeking her head out the kitchen door, she discreetly whispers to her boss.* Um, Mr. Gothmore? There seems to be a problem in the kitchen. All the food keeps disappearing with no explanation.

*Morgoth huffs in annoyance and storms into the kitchen* WHY must all my servants be so INCOMPETENT?

*he glances around and notices the missing pot* Is it true that my High King Maedhros is a THIEF? *glares at Tauriel* I should have known better than to put someone so pretty in my kitchen! Get back to your modeling!

(OOC: For those new to the thread, Tauriel once stole Maedhros' identity. Inspired by this.)

*gasps* I know the perfect use for this.

*Mixes hot sauce, sauerkraut, and pickled pig’s feet juice in the pie before serving it into three bowls and sets them before the prisoners, with a steaming hot cup of extra strong sweat coffee for each.* Feeding time!

*All the prisoners gag and their complexion goes greenish*

Maitimo: NOT THE ORC-SWEAT COFFEE. *begins to hyperventilate, which, naturally, causes him to inhale greater amounts of the smells. Aranya tries to count and get his breathing to slow down*

Fëanor: *visibly confused* What's the problem? It's just coffee.

Aranya: It's brewed in Orc sweat.

*Fëanor's eyes widen and he rattles his chair around, trying to kick Thuringwethil* KEEP YOUR CURSED CONCOCTIONS IN THE GARBAGE WHERE THEY BELONG. Even Ungoliant would spew this stuff out if she ever tasted it!

 

[Glorfindel Goldtress]

*Tancaquárë whirls around in an instant and whacks their surprise assailant with her sling (fortunately not loaded)*

Curufin: *turning to face his cousin with a tiny smirk* It's just Findekáno, try not to assassinate him.

*Maglor jumps visibly even though he'd known Fingon was there, and he wasn't the target of the prank* MANWË ABOVE--

*Laurinalótë whirls around on Curufin's head.* Well, there's never a dull moment when trying to be stealthy... Welcome, Finno and Maglor!

*Fëanor's eyes widen and he rattles his chair around, trying to kick Thuringwethil* KEEP YOUR CURSED CONCOCTIONS IN THE GARBAGE WHERE THEY BELONG. Even Ungoliant would spew this stuff out if she ever tasted it!

*Meanwhile inside, Laurinalótë has had quite enough and sends out a blanketing shower of her golden dust over everyone, making it go into all the enemies' eyes, ears, and noses.* Why didn't I do this a long time ago? *Her dust swirls around the restraints holding her friends and loosens them to the ground.* Jail-break from the Jail-Crow of Mandos!!!!!

 

[Bomb_Tombadil]

Handmaiden Balrog, rendered berserk by the duplicity of Fake Denny's, slaughters the guards on the inside of Angband's gate.
Handmaiden Balrog: Like pancakes, do you? How about some BATTER?!

She turns the gate wheel. The chains of the pulley slither, and five storeys of stone weight grate slowly upward.

Ingwë: *drawing his sword* Eru be with us! Charge!

He rolls as fast as he can under the gate. But not fast enough. The stone drops again, stopping a hair above his shoulder.

Handmaiden Balrog: Archers! On the gallery above!
Ingwë: Are you hit?
Handmaiden Balrog: groaAAR! I can't reach them!
Ingwë: Pull for your life!
Handmaiden Balrog strains on the wheel as arrows pierce her flesh. Whenever she shields her face, the stone door slips towards Ingwë.
Handmaiden Balrog: hnngGG
Ingwë: Just...one more...inch.

Ingwë slips through, long scrape marks on his armour. Inside the cavern, dozens of orc archers line the upper balconies, hailing arrows at the pair.

Ingwë: Throw me.
Handmaiden Balrog: What?
Ingwë: Throw me!!


No time to be gentle, Handmaiden Balrog scoops the king up in her hand, charges forward and lobs him at the rock face.

Ingwë: YOLOUYG!!*

Ingwë lands, sending the first three orcs flying like skittles. Then, the high blade of the Vanyar in his hand and the light of the Valar in his eyes, he scythes his way down the gallery. Soon, only the officers are left.

Orc Captain: *parrying* Ooh, posta breve. Haven't seen that since early Númenor.
*schwing*
Orc Captain: Posta di Vera Finestra! Perfection! You, sir, are a true historical fencer. What's your tradition?
Ingwë: *disembowelling a lieutenant* I am the tradition.
Orc Captain: Oh! A First Age veteran? What an honour.
Orc Captain riposts and jabs him in the side.
Ingwë: Oof! You're not so bad yourself.
Orc Captain: *blushing* Oh, well. I try. I mostly have to teach myself from YouTube.
Ingwë: You're doing fine. Try a steeper angle on the fendente.
Orc Captain: Did I do it?
Ingwë: Ouch! That's the ticket, son!
Orc Captain: Hooray, dad! 😃
Ingwë catches the Orc's hilt, darts forward and bashes his sword hand against the rock with his hip.
Ingwë: Ah. Well, that's a tight spot. Don't suppose you'd consider surrendering, old chap?
Orc Captain: Sorry. Bound to the will of Morgoth, and all that.
Ingwë: Right. Right you are. Frightfully sorry, then.
Orc Captain: Chin up. Can't will 'em all, eh?
Ingwë: So they tell me. Best of luck on the other side.
*Ingwë beheads him*
Ingwë: *sadly* You can open the gate, now Handmaiden.

*Untranslated in this text, but according to an earlier source, "You only live once, unless you're Glorfindel" - Christopher Tolkien

 

[Ashley]

Amrod: *starting to get a little nervous* Findekáno told us to keep Haru Finwë safe. We don’t know exactly what is down that hole, or what happened to the others, and there’s no way to know where Ingwë is either, let alone reach him. This could very well be Morgoth we’re talking about, who slew Haru last time. *clings to Finwë in a tight hug*

Oh, Pityo *hugs them both*
Fine, we can stay here. I just wish we could do something to help them.

 

[Fingon_Findekáno]

But Thuri...I spent a lot of time making that. Aren't you even going to try it?🥺

Thuringwethil: Of course I will! But what kind of friend would I be if I ate before our guests? Russamól here was already complaining *pinching his cheek*, so it’s only polite to feed him and his kin first!

*All the prisoners gag and their complexion goes greenish*

Maitimo: NOT THE ORC-SWEAT COFFEE. *begins to hyperventilate, which, naturally, causes him to inhale greater amounts of the smells. Aranya tries to count and get his breathing to slow down*

Fëanor: *visibly confused* What's the problem? It's just coffee.

Aranya: It's brewed in Orc sweat.

*Fëanor's eyes widen and he rattles his chair around, trying to kick Thuringwethil* KEEP YOUR CURSED CONCOCTIONS IN THE GARBAGE WHERE THEY BELONG. Even Ungoliant would spew this stuff out if she ever tasted it!

*Thuringwethil screech-cackles mightily at their responses.* Look how excited they are to try it! Who’s first?


In the Tunnel…

*Maglor jumps visibly even though he'd known Fingon was there, and he wasn't the target of the prank* MANWË ABOVE--

*He helps Fingon right himself* That's what you get for playing tricks! Honestly, this is not the time--aren't we trying to be stealthy?
More importantly you scared me 😭

Fingon: Sorry, Káno. 😅 Had to make sure they weren’t Orcs. *cough*

*Laurinalótë whirls around on Curufin's head.* Well, there's never a dull moment when trying to be stealthy... Welcome, Finno and Maglor!

*smiles* Good to see you too, Laurinalótë. If Tyelko and Lindiel would pick up their pace *whisper-calling behind him down the tunnel*, they’re with us too.

So what’s the plan?


Back in Denny’s…

*Meanwhile inside, Laurinalótë has had quite enough and sends out a blanketing shower of her golden dust over everyone, making it go into all the enemies' eyes, ears, and noses.* Why didn't I do this a long time ago? *Her dust swirls around the restraints holding her friends and loosens them to the ground.* Jail-break from the Jail-Crow of Mandos!!!!!

*Thuringwethil drops the handful of pie she was about to feed Fëanor with and gives an ear-piercing screech, flapping her wings furiously as she tries to get the irritants out of her face.*