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*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)

*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?

*after a very leisurely dinner, during which most of the major events of the festival have passed him by (such as the small fact of his mother being pregnant again), goes up to his hotel room with Dior*

*is more than a little envious of her brother's big promotion, as well as the power and wealth that will probably bring with it*

*particularly the wealth aspect of it all*

*marches around the stronghold restlessly with a desperate craving for BBQ sauce, sporadically belching the odd jet of flames at the ankles of anyone who gets too close to her*

*feels much better about life in general* *shines with great enthusiasm for the night, directing a concentrated beam of glaring starlight at Angband, because it's so entertaining*

*goes down to Lórien in the morning and takes a snooze near the fountains*

*wakes up, blinking in the noon sunlight*

Sunshine? You do know it's winter, right? What's with the heat?

*because nothing says hangover cure like a strong drink, manifests himself and a still-sleeping Ingil to the pub*

*orders a round of drinks before closing his eyes*

No loud voices today. Please?