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!

 

[Ashley]

Amrod: Vanilla’s good. It can match the white streaks in Nelyo’s hair. I’ll go select the cake pan and—

*As he turns around, he sees the newly arrived group down by the trees and excitedly takes off running through the field to them.* NELYOOOOO!!!!!!!

*He crashes into Maitimo at full speed, squeezing him tight in a hug and not letting go.* I’m so glad you’re safe, big brother.

*Amras runs after his twin to join the others* Thank Eru you are all okay. I was worried out of my mind!

 

[Laurë]

I will most definitely help you! But first, I have my own gift for our friend Thauron here.

*Pulls out his hot glue gun and bags of extra jingly pom-poms.* I’ve been looking forward to this moment for quite some time.

*As he starts gleefully gluing them on Mairon, he calls over to Tyelko.* How you doing over there, cuz?

*Maglor pulls out his pocket glitter that he keeps for emergencies, and starts helping Fingon.*

 

[Server Room Gremlin]

*As the others walk away, Curufin, still lying on the ground, folds his arms and determinedly turns his face the other way, unwilling to move*

Tancaquárë: *crouches beside him* You cannot stay here lying in the dirt, Curufinwë.

Curufin: What difference does it make? I am so covered in grime anyway that I doubt any more of it will stick to me.

Tancaquárë: Well, you cannot stay here covered in grime either. And if you cannot or will not make a move to clean yourself up, I am going to do it for you.

Curufin: *is entirely shocked by this statement from his wife whom he believed to be completely estranged from him*
*so much so that he does not make a single move of resistance as she scoops him up and gets him to his feet*

*They, along with Curvo and Tanca, slowly make their way towards the cooking group, where Aranya figures she'll make some ginger tea for anyone who wants it.*

*Curufin and Tancaquárë sit down at one of the tables. Curufin is blushing faintly with embarrassment, as Tancaquárë had been supporting him with an arm under his shoulder the entire way.*

Curufin: *not looking at her* Thanks, Anca.

Tancaquárë: *quietly, with some small hint of sadness or fond exasperation* It's really no trouble, Curvo.
*raising a finger* But mark my words, once you are a little more rested, it is bathtime.

Curufin: *places a hand to his chest and nods, pretending to be a little terrified*

 

[Finwë]

Maitimo: It's okay, Aranya. I'm happy to see you too, Pityo! *he sees Amras (@Ashley) nearby* And you, get over here!

*Fëanor comes to Finwë (@Finwë), still a little unsteady on his feet.* Boy, am I glad to see you, Atar!

Finwe: *puts an arm around him* Feanor!...are you okay? Here, sit down for a minute...*gently helps him onto seat nearby*

 

[Maedhros_Nelyafinwë]

Finwe: *puts an arm around him* Feanor!...are you okay? Here, sit down for a minute...*gently helps him onto seat nearby*

*If it were literally anybody else, Fëanor would have resisted, but he gratefully accepts the opportunity to sit down.*

Well, I sort of got hit on the head and knocked out. So did Nelyo. But it's nothing too serious, I should think.

*Aranya overhears this and yells, exasperated, in Finwë's direction:* THEY'RE LITERALLY CONCUSSED. 🙄

 

[Fingon_Findekáno]

*Aranya overhears this and yells, exasperated, in Finwë's direction:* THEY'RE LITERALLY CONCUSSED. 🙄

*Amrod hears this and gasps.* Nelyo, you got a concussion?! Can I see? How do you feel?? What was it like???

 

[Maedhros_Nelyafinwë]

*Amrod hears this and gasps.* Nelyo, you got a concussion?! Can I see? How do you feel?? What was it like???

Maitimo: No, you can't see it. Aranya says it happens inside the head. And it feels... like Atar is pounding on your head with a hammer.

*Fëanor overhears this* Hey, I would never do that!! What makes you think I would?

Maitimo: Atar, it's a metaphor, not a real thing!

 

[Fingon_Findekáno]

Maitimo: No, you can't see it. Aranya says it happens inside the head. And it feels... like Atar is pounding on your head with a hammer.

*Fëanor overhears this* Hey, I would never do that!! What makes you think I would?

Maitimo: Atar, it's a metaphor, not a real thing!

*Amrod stares aghast in concern, looking back and forth from Nelyo to Fëanor.* Atar! How could you?! We like Nelyo’s brain!

*He addresses Laurinalótë on Maitimo’s head.* Talking Flower, is Nelyo going to be okay?

 

[Glorfindel Goldtress]

*Daylight shines through the walls of their bubbles, and they slow down, having finally reached the above-ground portion of the stream. The tops of their bubbles retract, allowing them to stand up and step out onto the stream bank.*

They shakily step out upon landing.*

*Laurinalótë shakes her leaves in a dance to fling off water everywhere, especially upon her bearers.*

It's just like Ulmo to not keep us dry.

*Even though it isn't possible to be viewed, the eye roll is evident in her tone.*

They, along with Curvo and Tanca, slowly make their way towards the cooking group

Cooking... My metabolism is not thrilled at that word. I just wonder what happened. *The reddish hue of her golden petals has dissipated at last.* Though I will say there are worse things than hot sauce pancakes.

Talking Flower, is Nelyo going to be okay?

*Pays attention to the conversation going on around her.* Talking Elf, a concussion is like a bruise on the brain. Just as with a typical contusion, it takes time to heal. There are different levels of concussions regarding their severity, though your brother's seems mild, for he isn't experiencing blurred vision or lightheaded dizziness. It will heal. As Elves, the healing process is quicker than that of the Edain. Rest is an important part of the recovery, whichever being you are. *Sends soothing calm into Maitimo with more intention and begins gently massaging his head with her leaves.*

*Meanwhile, from the window vantage point, Laurinalótë watches the fascinating antics of Fingon, Maglor, Celeraccoon, the Vanyar royalty, and the big bads.* As a Mettarë Elf of my lord Aulë, Mr. Sour Gothmore should know about getting decorated... As well as being on probation, of course. You know, I am pleased to see such decisive... victory. Yes, victory. Is. Sweet. Unlike those anchovies and chips.

 

[Server Room Gremlin]

*Curufin shifts uncomfortably in his seat*
...I think I may be sitting on some damp dirt. On the inside of my trousers. ._.

*being too exhausted, he does not move, and instead closes his eyes and rests his head on his folded arms, as if to nap at the table*

*Tancaquárë refrains from facepalming*

Tancaquárë: *quietly, bringing her face close to his* Do I have to carry you?

*Curufin's eyes snap open*

Curufin: *turning to her* 😐

*he gets up somewhat unsteadily and heads towards the buildings*
*Tancaquárë goes with him*

***

*Curufin is sitting on a stool beside the bathtub which Tancaquárë is filling. Once the bath is ready, she turns to him and gives him a pensive look. Then she goes back outside and returns with a small bucket of dirt, which she places on the floor.*

Tancaquárë: *holds out her hand beside Curufin's head, so that Laurinalótë may crawl into it* I am sure this flower does not want to be washed with your hair.
*she places Laurinalótë in the bucket, then slowly lets water from a jug pour between her fingers over the flower, to rinse her off a bit, as she has shared in Curufin's misadventures*

***

*Curufin and Tancaquárë return to where the others are. Both are clean, dry, and wearing new clothing. Laurinalótë has been returned to her place in Curufin's hair.*

 

[Bomb_Tombadil]

(So guys, as soon as we could wrap up the current stuff, that would be great. My job will get very busy in late August or so, and I'm thinking we should do the wedding before then. Also, this will be my only post today because work is busy.)

(OOC: One of you elves still in Denny's, please tell the Vanyarin about this wedding so we can respond appropriately! We're just going to get the info we need out of the Melk-man about the location of the Balrog master-whip, then we can shelve him for a while [unless you want us to shelve him now, in which case we're going to need bring him to the wedding under guard so he doesn't escape 😁] )

M: Umm . . . *He was quite shocked to realize there was a Balrog on their side, and by her politeness. He wasn't complaining though.*

M: Sure, though I didn't see where he went. I'm Maglor, by the way.

While Fingon glues and decorates an increasingly festive and decreasingly cheery Sauron, the others ransack the place for Morgoth.
Handmaiden Balrog: *shaking Maglor's hand* Enchanted. Literally.
*bangs oven doors open and shut. Searches the chest freezer. Everything's empty.*
Handmaiden Balrog: Hmm. I wonder if we could speed this up.
*finds a heavy cast-iron frying pan on the stovetop and hands it to Maglor*
Handmaiden Balrog: Technically, I'm a Corrupted Being. It has some perks, like the "Corrupted Being Under 5000" railcard, entitling me to discounted travel on weekends outside peak season. Unfortunately, it prevents the Valar from hearing my prayers. Would you, kind sir, be good enough to call on Aulë to imbue this frying pan with Extreme Magnetism? You would have my Corrupted and, er, undying thanks.

*Fingon chuckles at their comments.* While the first is correct in Quenya, I will accept the second as well. I am a Hair and Air Commander!


I will most definitely help you! But first, I have my own gift for our friend Thauron here.

*Pulls out his hot glue gun and bags of extra jingly pom-poms.* I’ve been looking forward to this moment for quite some time.

*As he starts gleefully gluing them on Mairon, he calls over to Tyelko.* How you doing over there, cuz?

Ilwen picks up fallen pom-poms and glue from the floor.
Ilwen: Now, Mr. Fingon, didn't you mother ever tell you to spread newspaper before doing a craft project? Ingwë, dearest, what's taking you so long fetching him that paper?
Ingwë: *squinting through reading-glasses* What's a four-letter word for nyarnamaitar-quantemmalion?

 

[Fingon_Findekáno]

*Pays attention to the conversation going on around her.* Talking Elf, a concussion is like a bruise on the brain. Just as with a typical contusion, it takes time to heal. There are different levels of concussions regarding their severity, though your brother's seems mild, for he isn't experiencing blurred vision or lightheaded dizziness. It will heal. As Elves, the healing process is quicker than that of the Edain. Rest is an important part of the recovery, whichever being you are. *Sends soothing calm into Maitimo with more intention and begins gently massaging his head with her leaves.*

*Amrod listens with a wide-eyed expression of curiosity at her words.* Fascinating! So what I’m hearing is, Nelyo needs a massage.

*Starts pulling Maitimo over to a chair and sits him down.* (@Ashley) Telvo! Nelyo needs us to soothe him with a massage to help him feel better! You take the left shoulder, I’ll take the right.

*Meanwhile, from the window vantage point, Laurinalótë watches the fascinating antics of Fingon, Maglor, Celeraccoon, the Vanyar royalty, and the big bads.* As a Mettarë Elf of my lord Aulë, Mr. Sour Gothmore should know about getting decorated... As well as being on probation, of course. You know, I am pleased to see such decisive... victory. Yes, victory. Is. Sweet. Unlike those anchovies and chips.

*Fingon overhears her and glances up to where she’s sitting on the window sill, grinning while his hands continue gluing.* Glad you approve, Laurinalótë!

*sticks a large red pom-pom on Mairon’s nose*

Ilwen picks up fallen pom-poms and glue from the floor.
Ilwen: Now, Mr. Fingon, didn't you mother ever tell you to spread newspaper before doing a craft project? Ingwë, dearest, what's taking you so long fetching him that paper?
Ingwë: *squinting through reading-glasses* What's a four-letter word for nyarnamaitar-quantemmalion?

Fingon: My Lady, long has it been since I have needed to worry about such things. I’m not an Elfling anymore. As High Prince of the Noldor, I have lands to guard, people to protect, and mischief to get into with my cousins and sister. The last thing I have to be concerned about is using paper to keep Angband’s floors clean.

Besides, this is far from the first time I’ve done this to Thauron. Just look at the growing grimace on his face— he loves it!

 

[Laurë]

While Fingon glues and decorates an increasingly festive and decreasingly cheery Sauron, the others ransack the place for Morgoth.
Handmaiden Balrog: *shaking Maglor's hand* Enchanted. Literally.
*bangs oven doors open and shut. Searches the chest freezer. Everything's empty.*
Handmaiden Balrog: Hmm. I wonder if we could speed this up.
*finds a heavy cast-iron frying pan on the stovetop and hands it to Maglor*
Handmaiden Balrog: Technically, I'm a Corrupted Being. It has some perks, like the "Corrupted Being Under 5000" railcard, entitling me to discounted travel on weekends outside peak season. Unfortunately, it prevents the Valar from hearing my prayers. Would you, kind sir, be good enough to call on Aulë to imbue this frying pan with Extreme Magnetism? You would have my Corrupted and, er, undying thanks.

Maglor: Uh . . . sure yeah I can do that. Not entirely sure we're on the best terms either, but it's worth a shot.
*He focuses on the frying pan, sending a little message to Aulë in his heart, hoping that would work. After a few moments, a powerful tug on the sword in his hand is a promising answer*
M: What are we using this for?

Fingon: My Lady, long has it been since I have needed to worry about such things. I’m not an Elfling anymore. As High Prince of the Noldor, I have lands to guard, people to protect, and mischief to get into with my cousins and sister. The last thing I have to be concerned about is using paper to keep Angband’s floors clean.

Besides, this is far from the first time I’ve done this to Thauron. Just look at the growing grimace on his face— he loves it!

M: It's not like we're worried about getting glitter on the floor--that would be to our advantage even!

 

[Fingon_Findekáno]

*Thuringwethil looks over Tyelkoraccoon and sees what the Elves are doing to Mairon.* Ahahahahaha!!!!! Looking good, Lieutenant! Very— haha— very festive!

*She doubles over cackling with laughter at how hilarious Mairon is, unable to contain herself.*

 

[Tyelkormo the Fair]

*seeing the rescued settle, Siren Girl leaves them and returns to the Denny's*

I think it's time, Celeraccoon!
*Celeraccoon looks up from where he was bickering with Thuringwethil about the nature of rabies.

Mairon is confused, and the only thing he wants is to find a way out of the place without getting hurt too much.
Celeraccoon nods and hops and runs back towards Siren Girl*
Do you have the glove?
*Siren girl nods and hands Celeraccoon a teeny tiny glove that fits him. On the glove rest five jewel like candies. Celeraccoon eyes them all hungrily but one warning pinch from Siren Girl is enough to dissuade him. He glances around the room and beacons Maglor, Finno and the rest of the good guys over*
Come here! I'mma fix everything.

*He takes in a breath before raising his gloved paw before pausing*

Ah... there's a problem. I don't have thumbs. I can't snap.
*The pair of superheroes stare at each other, dumbstruck*

 

[Bomb_Tombadil]

Maglor: Uh . . . sure yeah I can do that. Not entirely sure we're on the best terms either, but it's worth a shot.
*He focuses on the frying pan, sending a little message to Aulë in his heart, hoping that would work. After a few moments, a powerful tug on the sword in his hand is a promising answer*
M: What are we using this for?

Handmaiden Balrog: Thank you, Maglor. It seems your heart is right with the Powers.
The frying pan trembles in Handmaiden Balrog's hand. The sword lurches out of Maglor's sheath. Knives, spoons, pots and other kitchen bric-a-brac flurry through the air.
Handmaiden Balrog unsticks them one by one and fixes them point-first into the wall. WIth Maglor's help (the pull is very strong), she wafts it around the counters and ovens like a metal detector.

As she passes the chest freezer, it begins to rattle. The freezer rocks, sways and tips over. It flies open and, in a hail of frozen peas, the Dark Lord of Angband shoots head-first onto the frying pan, where, with a BONG, the Iron Crown quivers, caught. The Dark Lord's angle of suspension looks notably uncomfortable.
Handmaiden Balrog: Do you think we should have greased it first?

 

[Glorfindel Goldtress]

*He focuses on the frying pan, sending a little message to Aulë in his heart, hoping that would work. After a few moments, a powerful tug on the sword in his hand is a promising answer*

*Yavanna and Aulë have finished setting up the fortress for the wedding, waiting for everyone to return from Denny's. All of a sudden, Aulë senses his aid is required. Determining what is needed, he sends approval back to Maglor. Then he glances over at the lone group of Laurinalótë in her vase.*

Aulë: Do you mind messaging the group chat to let everyone know we're ready? *Begins practicing his speech over and over until Yavanna presses a hand against his mouth to silence his incessant recitations.*

Yavanna: Practice have you had with Tulkas and Nessa's, have you not? Enough of this.

Aulë, pulling her hand off his face: That impromptu mashup hardly counts for anything. Being told the day of a wedding a wedding was going to happen is not an ideal first experience to draw back upon.

Yavanna, smiling sheepishly: This time not you would have to forge rings in the middle of the ceremony as you delivered ordinance.

Aulë, wincing in reminiscence: The smoke shield it gave off was Angband before Angband existed.

*Meanwhile, Laurinalótë swipes her phone awake, using her leaves to type.* HEY. Where are you guys? What is a wedding without a bride and groom?

 

[Bomb_Tombadil]

Yavanna: This time not you would have to...

(OOC:
Eru: And now, the music of the Ainur is at last complete. Who shall write the lyrics to this mighty song?
Yavanna: *puts hand up*
Eru:
Yavanna: *waves hand*
Eru:
Eru: Anyone? )

 

[Laurë]

*seeing the rescued settle, Siren Girl leaves them and returns to the Denny's*

I think it's time, Celeraccoon!
*Celeraccoon looks up from where he was bickering with Thuringwethil about the nature of rabies.

Mairon is confused, and the only thing he wants is to find a way out of the place without getting hurt too much.
Celeraccoon nods and hops and runs back towards Siren Girl*
Do you have the glove?
*Siren girl nods and hands Celeraccoon a teeny tiny glove that fits him. On the glove rest five jewel like candies. Celeraccoon eyes them all hungrily but one warning pinch from Siren Girl is enough to dissuade him. He glances around the room and beacons Maglor, Finno and the rest of the good guys over*
Come here! I'mma fix everything.

*He takes in a breath before raising his gloved paw before pausing*

Ah... there's a problem. I don't have thumbs. I can't snap.
*The pair of superheroes stare at each other, dumbstruck*

Maglor: Sooooooo are we leaving? *He seemed rather confused. How was a glove meant to fix everything? Why did it have candy on it--not that this was surprising for Tyelko, just for the current situation."

Handmaiden Balrog: Thank you, Maglor. It seems your heart is right with the Powers.
The frying pan trembles in Handmaiden Balrog's hand. The sword lurches out of Maglor's sheath. Knives, spoons, pots and other kitchen bric-a-brac flurry through the air.
Handmaiden Balrog unsticks them one by one and fixes them point-first into the wall. WIth Maglor's help (the pull is very strong), she wafts it around the counters and ovens like a metal detector.

As she passes the chest freezer, it begins to rattle. The freezer rocks, sways and tips over. It flies open and, in a hail of frozen peas, the Dark Lord of Angband shoots head-first onto the frying pan, where, with a BONG, the Iron Crown quivers, caught. The Dark Lord's angle of suspension looks notably uncomfortable.
Handmaiden Balrog: Do you think we should have greased it first?

M: That was brilliant Miss Balrog! What is our plan now that we've found him? We ought to be returning soon, Nelyo will never forgive me if I miss the wedding.