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!

 

[Laurë]

Tyelkoraccoon: I want to know too. It was her decision, you see.
Lindiel:...I...it doesn't matter, I guess. You all know now, and I don't care anymore about my reasoning.
(I won't tell here, because it spoils an important chapter of my fanfiction.)

M: You do you I suppose. As for me, it's relieving to find out someone's been looking out for Tyelko!
(ah, got it)
M: Back to more pressing issues: How to turn you back into an elf, Tyelko.

 

[Tyelkormo the Fair]

*Tyelkoraccoon squirms in Lindiel's arms until she drops her. He runs to Maglor and starts climbing him*
I don't want to turn back into an elf! She can be mean to me that way!

 

[Laurë]

*Tyelkoraccoon squirms in Lindiel's arms until she drops her. He runs to Maglor and starts climbing him*
I don't want to turn back into an elf! She can be mean to me that way!

*Maglor gently picks him up like a cat*
M: I'm pretty sure she can be mean while your a racoon too. Besides, knowing you, you've probably done something to deserve it. *He gives him a wink*
M: I'm afraid you need to turn back into an elf, Tyelko. What are you going to do when Nelyo's wedding comes around? They won't let you in like this!

 

[Tyelkormo the Fair]

Lindiel: I'm not going to be mean--
Tyelkoraccoon: she can't be mean to me like this! It's considered animal cruelty!
Lindiel: and even if I am, you deserve it for what you did to me!
Tyelkoraccoon: I don't want to! I'm sure we can find some raccoon sized suit and tie!

 

[Laurë]

Lindiel: I'm not going to be mean--
Tyelkoraccoon: she can't be mean to me like this! It's considered animal cruelty!
Lindiel: and even if I am, you deserve it for what you did to me!
Tyelkoraccoon: I don't want to! I'm sure we can find some raccoon sized suit and tie!

M: Oooooh Tyelko, what'd you do this time you little rascal?
M: And for the record, I don't think they'll let you in even if you are wearing a tiny suit. Racoons are still wild animals😅

 

[Tyelkormo the Fair]

Tyelkoraccoon:...I might have...uh, killed her?
Lindiel: you did kill me.
Tyelkoraccoon: but it was an accident!
Lindiel: whatever.

 

[Laurë]

Tyelkoraccoon:...I might have...uh, killed her?
Lindiel: you did kill me.
Tyelkoraccoon: but it was an accident!
Lindiel: whatever.

M: Ooooh that's bad . . . yeah she has every right to be angry, if you ask me.

 

[Ashley]

Tyelkoraccoon: were you? Well, I didn't mean to worry you much.
Lindiel: How did you turn into a raccoon? You know what? I don't want to know at all.
Tyelkoraccoon: well, that's good. Because I don't know either.
(Thank you!)

Tyelko is a racoon now?!

Well, ...ah this is awkward.
*Turns to Maglor, still holding Tyelkoraccoon*
I'm not just your friend, Kano. I'm your sister in law?

Oh, for heaven's sake! Does everyone have a new wife all of a sudden

*Maglor gently picks him up like a cat*
M: I'm pretty sure she can be mean while your a racoon too. Besides, knowing you, you've probably done something to deserve it. *He gives him a wink*
M: I'm afraid you need to turn back into an elf, Tyelko. What are you going to do when Nelyo's wedding comes around? They won't let you in like this!

Actually, they might. It it Tyelko, after all.

Tyelkoraccoon:...I might have...uh, killed her?
Lindiel: you did kill me.
Tyelkoraccoon: but it was an accident!
Lindiel: whatever.

You accidentally killed your wife!? Umm, I'd say she has a right to be mad.

 

[Bomb_Tombadil]

*He messed with the screen for a few seconds. He managed to answer the call, and handed the phone back to Finwe*

*The ringing Teleriphone connects. @Finwë begins to speak, but Ingwë obliviously talks over him*
Ingwë: Dear Finny comma indent, How the blazes are you, old chum? What with this Two Trees fiasco and no more eternal summer, Illy and I are finally managing to get away from the garden (who says retirement's not work, eh?)
Ingwë: Now, it looks like we're going to get a fresh cool patch coming in from Helcaraxë and if as Manwë planned humidity stays low-
Ilwen: *hissing* You're doing the weather thing again.
Ingwë: -what? Oh, right. Anyway, I thought you and I might take a little ride up to Lórien. Sit a while by Míriel's grave like we used to before all this Melkor madness. Illy's offering to tactfully distract Indis for a few days. Just a thought, tell me what you think. Yours sincerely comma new line Ingwë End Message
*Ingwë hangs up over Finwë's muffled confusion*
Handmaiden: Er, sire, you know there's someone on the other end? It's not dictation, you can talk to him...
Ingwë: What? Utumno's bells! Why does no one tell me anything?
Ilwen: *sigh* Oh well, maybe he'll call back. We may as well head for Formenos, in the meantime.

(OOC: I'm reading all the other drama, not ignoring it, Ingwë just has no way of engaging yet, sorry!)

 

[Bomb_Tombadil]

What Tyelkoraccoon is wearing.)

(OOC: This shadowy hat is just beautiful, by the way. Somehow it puts me in a noir universe, with the rain running down it to the sound of mournful jazz...)

 

[Tyelkormo the Fair]

(OOC: This shadowy hat is just beautiful, by the way. Somehow it puts me in a noir universe, with the rain running down it to the sound of mournful jazz...)

(Thanks! I'm very proud of how it turned out too.)

 

[Finwë]

*He messed with the screen for a few seconds. He managed to answer the call, and handed the phone back to Finwe*

Finwe *taking the phone*: Thank you, Maglor

*The ringing Teleriphone connects. @Finwë begins to speak, but Ingwë obliviously talks over him*
Ingwë: Dear Finny comma indent, How the blazes are you, old chum? What with this Two Trees fiasco and no more eternal summer, Illy and I are finally managing to get away from the garden (who says retirement's not work, eh?)
Ingwë: Now, it looks like we're going to get a fresh cool patch coming in from Helcaraxë and if as Manwë planned humidity stays low-
Ilwen: *hissing* You're doing the weather thing again.
Ingwë: -what? Oh, right. Anyway, I thought you and I might take a little ride up to Lórien. Sit a while by Míriel's grave like we used to before all this Melkor madness. Illy's offering to tactfully distract Indis for a few days. Just a thought, tell me what you think. Yours sincerely comma new line Ingwë End Message
*Ingwë hangs up over Finwë's muffled confusion*

*Finwe gestures to the others to be quiet while he's on the phone, not noticing that Tyelko has turned into a raccoon*
Finwe: *to the phone*: Hello...? um....Ingwe?....

*Finwe frowns at his phone.*
Finwe *To Maglor*: Are you sure you answered it properly? I've never had a phone call where I couldn't get a word in before.

 

[Laurë]

Finwe *taking the phone*: Thank you, Maglor


*Finwe gestures to the others to be quiet while he's on the phone, not noticing that Tyelko has turned into a raccoon*
Finwe: *to the phone*: Hello...? um....Ingwe?....

*Finwe frowns at his phone.*
Finwe *To Maglor*: Are you sure you answered it properly? I've never had a phone call where I couldn't get a word in before.

M: Perhaps it's not an issue with the phone, but instead Ignwes nature . . . 😅

 

[Bomb_Tombadil]

While waiting for their Teleriphone to ring, Ingwë, Ilwen and their gaily-harnessed party ride through the mountain meadows towards Formenos.

Excited to see @Finwë again, they reminisce about their great journey under the stars from Cuiviénen. They remember the time Finwë and Ingwë went hunting a stag and became separated. Trying to reunite in the darkness, they blew their hunting horns so powerfully that each mistook the other for holy Oromë. They both fell prostrate and silent on the ground.
Neither dared speak and correct the mistake until the stag, relieved that the hunters had disappeared, tripped over the motionless Ingwë, and he said "ow".

 

[Finwë]

M: Perhaps it's not an issue with the phone, but instead Ignwes nature . . . 😅

Finwe: Oh yes, of course. Maybe I should try ringing him back...let me see.... *fiddles around on his phone for a few minutes*
Oh right...I think I've got it now....*tries to call Ingwe's number, but accidentally turns his phone off by mistake*

Finwe: Oh. The screens gone blank. I must have done something wrong...oops....*To maglor* Er, could you help me call Ingwe back?

 

[Bomb_Tombadil]

But now, even as they reminisce, riding upon the green foothills of the Pelóri, an idea comes to Ingwë's mind. The old horn, from the days of the Great March, hangs by his saddle, stuffed with flowers (Ilwen is bringing them for Indis, from her mountain garden).

Carefully transferring the flowers to a flask (for he loves all Yavanna's works), Ingwë lifts the ivory to his lips. Its mouth is as wide as a drum, carved with row on row of dancing beasts and birds. It magnifies even whispers to a booming wind.
He blows an earth-shaking blast, hoping that, somewhere, Finwë will hear and answer.

*paaaaAARP*
Ingwë: *cough cough*
Ingwë: *splutter*
*drinks some water*
Ingwë: You put a lot of coriander in that bouquet, didn't you?
Ilwen: It just makes the scent profile pop!

 

[Ashley]

Finwe: Oh yes, of course. Maybe I should try ringing him back...let me see.... *fiddles around on his phone for a few minutes*
Oh right...I think I've got it now....*tries to call Ingwe's number, but accidentally turns his phone off by mistake*

Finwe: Oh. The screens gone blank. I must have done something wrong...oops....*To maglor* Er, could you help me call Ingwe back?

Here, let me try.
*Amras turns the phone on, but it’s locked.*
Ok, Now you just need to enter the passcode for the phone.

 

[Laurë]

Finwe: Oh yes, of course. Maybe I should try ringing him back...let me see.... *fiddles around on his phone for a few minutes*
Oh right...I think I've got it now....*tries to call Ingwe's number, but accidentally turns his phone off by mistake*

Finwe: Oh. The screens gone blank. I must have done something wrong...oops....*To maglor* Er, could you help me call Ingwe back?

Here, let me try.
*Amras turns the phone on, but it’s locked.*
Ok, Now you just need to enter the passcode for the phone.

M: Can you do it from there? *He waits while Finwe does the password*

 

[Bomb_Tombadil]

Evening falls in Valinor, last of all the world, and red shadows lengthen on the hills.

Ingwë and Ilwen sit down to rest from the day's journey. She leans her head on her husband's shoulder, sniffs her posy of flowers. The primroses open shyly in the cooling air.

Ingwë: Can you remember the last time we journeyed together, like this?
Ilwen: We were so young. We hadn't even thought of a word for home.
*Ingwë unties his harp from the horse*
Ingwë: Shall I sing the song? Our old song from the march?
Ilwen: *taps her nose with the flowers* Oh, don't, Mr. King. You know how I cry...
*Ingwë touches the strings; forgetful notes spill out, freshening their years, like a stream freshening dry roots*
*he takes up the melody in a half-voice, only loud enough for her to hear*
Ingwë: *singing*
Of all the lakish star-born race that woke
Before the dawn, they say that I loved best,
And loved most faithfully, mid daunting stroke,
Our journey’s end, the far and utter West.

But none say why. Sweet Ilwen, dost thou know?
Why in that terrored night, that killing road,
Whose length the strong untied, whose toils the slow,
I sang of hope, and harped in gladsome mode?

‘Tis you should know! Whom, first of every one,
I met, born gazing North across the meres-
Your smile was sunshine, moons before the sun,
Your kiss a twelvemonth, years before the years.

Do you know why, since birth, I've chased the West?
Because, my love, you woke upon my left.

*the strange old Vanyarin falls silent. Ilwen sniffs in the dark*
Ingwë: Are you crying now?
Ilwen:
Ilwen: *lying* Coriander...

(OOC: @Ent At Large my kind welcomer, I answer your invitation to versify, to the best of my small ability I wonder how many hundred lines I can turn out before someone manages to answer this blessed phonecall!)

 

[Ent]

@Bomb_Tombadil, 'tis true today - will always be in all we say;
there's naught a thing cannot be said in rhyme or verse, done without dread
as on our way we see and hear things needing words - if drear or cheer.

Your verse transcends, as I can see - with depth and grace laid out so free.
it's hard to know just how to meet such careful composition sweet,
when in the time at hand so short, one should compose a great report.

Thus to you now I just extend great thanks for words sent as intend
to meet a statement made before, remembered - yes held up in store
to be unfolded in due time, in such a way - spoken sublime!

That which you've writ is quite good verse! Hoping it aid to some coerce
to do their best to join the throng willing to share their thoughts in song,
and poetry spun all to see - language used to peak degree.


(I do not oft post in this thread, as what I share skews from the norm
and wanting not to break the thought, best I keep out of the storm.)