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*has been feeling more than a little distracted as of late, so it's probably a good thing that he's had a co-pilot for the last few days* *no, it's not Uolë*

*upon arriving at Lórien, discovers that Tilion has already gone for the evening, but Uolë is still hanging about* *seriously, the guy is too nice sometimes* *and too quiet* *and needs to get out more!*

*sends his fellow Quendë off for some much-needed rest before plopping down on the fountain ledge beside Arien*

*softly, simply* Hey, Sparkles.

*finishes his shift and immediately crashes (into bed, that is), with the intention of getting up early and going to the market to shop for his dinner-date*

*reaches out to silence the alarm when it goes off (all too soon) and rolls over onto his back, vaguely registering that there's something Not Quite Right about the room after a minute or so as his eyes focus* (so dark)

*puzzles a few more moments before throwing off the blankets and crossing to the porthole to draw the curtain back to reveal a Sun-less sky*

. . .

What the--? Oversleep? *checks his alarm--apparently not...?*

. . .

ARIEN?

*takes a full-fledged and well-deserved break from his scholarly/career-related pursuits to explore an entirely different field (Anatomy) including field research in such fleshpots fertile locations as the casino and the pub (especially the pub) with a high degree of concentration on the various aspects of Snoggling (yes, that's the technical term) in relation to the measurement of the quantity of Amusing Anecdotes ('Chatting up') required to achieve the expected level ('Second Base')*



*all in the name of Science, of course* :D

*arrives in the kitchen in a bit of a daze* *a very long daze*

*sits down at the table and stares into space*

*is pretty thoroughly disgusted with himself* *may not have technically nailed his teenaged lover to the bed, but certainly did so in their shared dreamscape* X(

*sees Ereinion off in the morning, feeling vaguely nauseous all the while* *can't think of a way to apologize that won't hurt Ereinion's feelings* *doesn't really think any apology will suffice, anyway*

*can't bear to look at the rumpled bed and tangled sheets any longer, so goes out walking* *walks, and walks, and walks, and walks*

*passes by the pub four times before finally deciding to try the drink-till-it-doesn't-hurt route* *hasn't ever been one to overindulge, so to speak, but figures it can't make things any worse, right?*

*heads in, and after a quick glance around to make sure Ariel isn't working, takes up a post in a corner booth* *isn't sure wine will do the trick, so decides to just start at the top of the liquor menu and work his way down*

*goes out for a jog and ends up in front of the pub, feeling pretty hot and thirsty* *blinks as it occurs to him that he's old enough to get served beer* :D

*heads inside, wondering if maybe Ingil might be around (knows she tends to hang out here at this time of day) (yes, she-it's been that long since he's seen her/him)*

*sits at the bar and pulls off his shirt, because man it's hot in here* *wonders why everyone's staring at him a little transfixed but kind of enjoys it*





((Sean Faris, because I came to realize that I couldn't look at Tom Welling without experiencing the Smallville ICK!factor))

*heads back down to the pub's main floor after a thoroughly enjoyable afternoon romp, straightening his blazer and finger-combing his hair a bit*

*laughs and replies to Legolas as they hit the last step* ...no, I think you've got the right idea. What we need to do is re-decorate one of those rooms to look like a generic executive office. So, like, if you ever fantasized about fucking on Turgon's desk? You could totally squint and pretend.

*following an extraordinarily creepy fucking experience at the pond of Doom, makes a beeline for the pub to drown the tentacle-y memories in bourbon*

*is just a little put out* *was giving serious thought to inviting Glorfindel to bed for some old-fashioned recreational (non-procreative) shagging*

*stations himself up at the bar with his drink and makes small-talk with his fellow patrons, wondering whether Elemmakil'd be up for a roll in the sack?* *dumb, dumb question* X)

*has had that song stuck in his head* *for days* *is seriously a little unhinged*

*is also still wondering whether he should be amused or aghast at his teenaged brother's newest hobby* *is now wondering if he was that obnoxious?* X)

*point-blank, as usual* Telu? One, I think I'm in love with a girl, and two, did I ever whine at you to fuck me?

*when his brother doesn't show up for breakfast and it's realised that he's left the house (again), is nominated into going out looking for him*

*knows this is because he's the only one who won't get angry at him*

*sets out into town, with Maedhros' dog as company*

*sits in her rocker out on the nursery balcony, dreaming lightly while Laurëanna nurses*

*is tired (those multiple night feedings take their toll), but otherwise? could be considered content*

*accompanies Telu home after a pretty eventful night*

*stretches a little as they reach the front door, looking askance at his companion*

...You sure you're all right, man?

*has had an okay day, on the whole* *met Sauron's youngest daughter, who is quite intriguing, to say the least* *thinks He may just have to keep closer tabs on that one* >:)

*returns to Angband just in time to get out of the fucking storm* >:/

*hustles down to the depths of the place, already nursing a headache at all of the noise* For fuck's sake, can't just whip up a regular storm, oh no, they had to make it as LOUD and OBNOXIOUS as possible...

*gets a little suspicious as the storm drags on with no appreciable letup in the tumult* *pops a few Vala-strength aspirin and casts His senses out wide, gritting His teeth at the harmonic clamor*

*picks out an odd set of anomalies in the Music* *narrows His eyes and focuses*

. . . SONOFABITCH. >:|

*immediately summons a flock of corrupted spirits of Air to Himself* Right, you lot. Isil. Get there. Make screaming nuisances of yourselves. I've a smaller fish to fry. Go.

*prior to the next stage in the re-Nienorification of Niënor, summons the interested parties to Ilmarin, whether they are physically present or not*

*addresses the gathered assembly and the more distant celestial bodies* The plan is as follows. Sir, Lord Ulmo, I require cloud cover and plenty of it. Arien, I need you to pile on the heat during the day so that a thunderstorm will not be unexpected. When night falls, my Lady Mother and my sister, together with Ardamírë and Ingil are going to provide the brightest starlight they can. I want glare and I want sound and I want a wall of Music between the ground and Isil. I want the brightest and loudest thunderstorm these skies have seen. I want the enemy to have to shield his eyes and cover his ears.

*wakes up veeeery slowly, blinking in confusion* *has the distinct impression that something is different about the world?* *can't quite figure it out, though*

...

*oh, right!* *baby brother is back* :)

*grins and slings an arm over Telu's middle* Hey, 'd I tell you m'brother's... back...?

...

Annnd apparently I'm a dude again?

*finds that he is walking through a park* *has no idea how he got here (did Ada bring him? or Círdan?) but thinks he might as well make the most of it!*

*decides to go and sit on the swings as he thinks about whether he wants to play football or go swimming or or or*

*has been in labor forever six hours already*

*is fairly sure that's unnatural* *or if it isn't? it should be*

*is trying very, very hard not to panic* *has been assured that the birth is proceeding normally, the baby sounds healthy (and not monstrous), and that she'll be meeting her daughter soon*

*squeezes the nearest hand tightly as she rides out the strongest contraction yet, repeating the words like a mantra* She's my daughter, she's my daughter, I'll be meeting my daughter soon, oh OWW isitoveryet... X(

*as the funeral of her son draws to a close, manages to keep it together long enough to sing a lament, especially composed for the occasion*

*after another night of shine-shine-shine, contemplates going straight to the pub at opening-time*

*opts, instead, to potter around his kitchen, making super-Vala strength coffee while attempting today's Cryptic Crossword*

*mutters* "Not very bright" ... six letters. Oh, this is stupid!

*tosses the paper onto the couch and hovers (figuratively, not literally) by the coffee-maker*