Aman Role-play Community

*picks up several brochures from the Tirion Chamber of Commerce and does a little walking tour around town, checking out the tourist attractions*

*follows the complimentary map and stops at the Mindon first to pay homage to Galathilion (so excited, ome) and is puzzled to find it somewhat smaller? than expected*

*drops a coin into the subscription box (Save Our Natural Resources!) and sits down on the viewing bench to Reflect* *as instructed on page two in the pamphlet*

*paces around his office in a state of purposeless agitation, occasionally pausing to pick up some random object, contemplate it for a moment, then place it in a precise manner some other place in the room, completely preoccupied with the echoes in his head*

You are always so hard on him, Husband.

Because I have to be. He is my heir; he will be the next Lord of Andúnië. Look at the times! There is no place for this impulsive hot-headedness that rules his actions all too often.

It was his impulsiveness that drove him to steal the fruit. Do you regret that?

It was reckless. He almost died.

He was brave, I thought.



*stops pacing after a while and wipes his eyes*

*aloud* He was, yes.

*with no clear purpose, wanders slowly through Tirion as if in a daze; the shininess of the city only slightly dimmed by the dark blanket of night-time*

*casts his eyes left and right, absorbing his surroundings in only the most cursory of manners until his gaze rests on a sign*

LAST ALLIANCE SECURITY

*stares fixedly at it for a long moment before finally approaching and raising his hand to knock tentatively* Nothing

*knocks a little harder and waits* Still nothing

*tries the handle* Locked

. . .


*with a sudden feeling of irrational desperation, begins to pick the lock*



[EDIT] *storms back outside and walks quickly away from his father's office*

*finds himself in front of the library (when he's calm enough to actually notice) and sinks down onto a stone wall, waiting for morning to come*

*eventually eschews that notion in favor of the pub next door and the numbness a drink or six will bring*

*has a very dead Elf to tend to* :(

*places Ereinion in a back room and cleans him up as best he can, covering him with a white sheet afterwards*

*emerges after a time with his collar undone and his sleeves rolled up, looking worn*

*meets Elendil's eyes* I've done what I can do. If you'd like to go back and be alone with him for a while, by all means do so, but I expect his family will be here fairly soon. Can I get you some coffee in the meantime?

*runs to the pub, as Vëantur directed, trying not to cry*

*bursts in* Please, please, it's my brother. I think he's dead. He...he... he's dead.

*is in his office catching up on some paperwork, when he hears a noise outside, sounding as if someone is scraping the building* :?

*opens the window and looks out to see his Significant Other's brother industriously? scrubbing the siding*

...

Having an attack of civic-mindedness, are you?

*Heads towards the nearest centre of habitation*

*Doesn't think this is how mortality was meant to go. All he was told was that you laid down your life when you felt it coming to it's natural end, before the senility and the need for nappies and pureed vegetables set in. He didn't remember anything about randomly waking up in some Eru-forsaken forest and having to hike to a bizarre city, which is built right on the top of the steepest hill known to man, I mean, come on, at least the Meneltarma had STEPS cut into it, this is ridiculous, and who builds a city out of tin anyway?*

*Arrives in Tirion, demanding an explanation.*

*Doesn't realise that pretty much everyone has gone to the Festival.*

Where the hell is everyone!?