Aman Role-play Community

*has had a busy couple of days, putting the new addition on the house*

*did have to take a break and batten down the hatches during the storm, but is full-speed ahead once more now that the sky's cleared up*

*despite the back-breaking amount of work involved, really does enjoy building projects like this* :)

*if nothing else, it's a good excuse to get various friends and relatives over*

*is in the library (as usual) studying too long and consequently falls asleep over his books*

*descends into murky dreams of a smothering, torturous force and stirs restlessly and moans in empathy*

*starts awake suddenly and leaps to his feet, gasping for air and flailing at imaginary choking hands, ripping--tearing--shredding--

--shredding--*

*looks down at his own clothing in his hands and blinks* *his three sizes too small, tight, restrictive clothing*

. . .

*laughs a little nervously at the small crowd of people staring at him open-mouthed and quickly wraps himself up in a nearby convenient window drapery* >.>

*sends out a telepathic message* Uhm, Bëor? Could you bring me some clothes? :s

*has been alive for all of a week, and has already had a request for help* *is all-too-pleased to be of service, of course (and not just because fulfilling that request will provide a welcome distraction in the days ahead)*

*assures Ulfang and Erestor that she will make arrangements and contact them when everything is ready* *borrows a hooded cloak (doesn't want the media to jump on her right away) before setting off for Tirion*

*arrives in the city and decides to make a stop on her way to the Palace* *is not stalling, honest*

ETA: *leaves Bëor's after a bit of shop-talk and finally makes her way up to the Palace*

*wanders down the street for a good ten minutes before remembering that he shouldn't technically be walking anywhere*

*slows to a stop* *blinks* *looks around a little bewilderedly*

...

*has vague, hazy memories of the Halls* *recalls winning a... a card game?*

*abruptly sucks in a short breath as he remembers*

*turns and sprints in the direction of Ereinion's house* *is well out of breath by the time he reaches the front door and hurriedly raps on it*

ETA: *heads for his parents' house, feeling rather disheartened* :(

*sighs morosely as the first few raindrops begin to fall* *it just figures*

*knocks on his parents' door, soaked to the skin and completely unaware of all the company inside*

*rounds up the kids (if they can still be called that, what with Ivy's latest growth spurt) and heads over to his great-great-great-great-grandson's place for the wake/get-together* :(

*finds the yard already full of folks, some of whom he knows, most of whom he doesn't*

*notes all the tipped ears* *still finds it mind-boggling that there's a line of half-Elves descended from him*

*wakes up*

...

Whoa.

*pads over to her closet and pulls on the oversized robe Bëor got her after Lúsion's surprise overnight growth spurt*

*heads out to the breakfast table* Uncle Bëor? Not to conform to a stereotype or anything, but can we go shopping after breakfast?

*thinks there's been enough Serious Music, Bad Music, and Just Plain Silly Music*

*decides the party needs to start swinging and gets a few Telerin horn players up on the stage*

*wakes up to see the early morning sun peeking through the curtains*

*pulls herself out of her nice warm bed, yawning and still half-asleep*

*pads out into the kitchen, lured by the smell of breakfast cooking*

*rubs at her eyes, not really looking where she’s going* Mornin’. Where’s mama?

*has been released from Lórien on the condition that he doesn't tax himself for the next week or so*

*heads straight to the Palace and grabs a few things from his quarters, including his weapons and some spare clothing*

*sketches a handful of identical notes:*

Leaving town. Be back sometime. -Edrahil

*leaves one in Orodreth's office for whenever he gets back in*

*quickly and silently makes a circuit around town, dropping one note at Bëor's and one at Caranthirë's*

*that done, turns his back on Tirion and vanishes into the night*

*wakes up in his bed at Bëor's house feeling a little weird*

*sits up, trying to wake up a little more, randomly scratching while looking down at his legs and feet*

*his quite a bit bigger legs and feet* o.o

*leaps up and looks in the mirror, gawping*

*eventually pulls on his three sizes too small bathrobe and goes to find Bëor*


*wonders if there was something in the water at Lórien* :S


[EDIT] *borrows a horse from Bëor and rides back to Lórien*

*having taken a brief break from Ingil-watching, returns to his bower to find it rather crowded*

*stands in the doorway with his arms folded and his brow furrowed*

*is settling down to read the paper when a headline catches his eye: HEIR TO VANYARIN THRONE STABBED UNDER MYSTERIOUS CIRCUMSTANCES*

*reads on a bit, registering the name "Ingil"*

*frowns*

*calls out* Lúsion, lad? Come here a moment, would you?