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so_dark_a_roadWho: Finwean clan members, living and dead. Maedhros, Fingon, Celebrimbor, and Curufin. Ghosts: Fëanor, Maglor, Fingolfin, Turgon, Aredhel, and Finrod. (THIS IS A MINGLER, so by all means, mingle! Just label your toplevels as to who is in the thread.)
What: A family dinner party! Good food, music, merriment, arguing, mayhem.
Where: Delight’s Housing, #06
When: June 27
Warnings: Elvish cursing and at least a couple of fistfights.
[ The Fëanorions have now been haunted by their dead relatives for a week, but now they can all see and interact with each other's ghosts -- the house is getting very crowded! Nobody can take a step without running into somebody they have mixed feelings about, and there are tears, snarls and threats as well as laughter and hugging.
Curufin is in the kitchen and cooking up a storm. The soup is stirred, the pots and pans bang on the stove, cupboard doors open and slam shut, the fish simmers, the vegetables are chopped and steamed, dishes and tableware clatter onto to the dining room table. Glasses are filled with wine from the Speakeasy. Curufin's own lethel distillation is waiting in a decanter for after dinner. (Because yes, certainly we want them all drunk and belligerent. Good idea, Curvo!)
He hustles out of the kitchen with the first platter of food, still wearing his frilly plaid pinafore apron from one of the derelict downtown stores. He shouts into the living room in a thunderous voice more suited to a battlefield than a house of loving relatives. ]
Dinner's served! Come and get it while it's hot!
[ He bangs the platter of fragrant baked fish on the table. With luck, they'll all fall upon the dinner like a pack of hungry varren and forget their resentments. (SURE THEY WILL FORGET. BECAUSE FINWEANS, YOU KNOW, ARE CHARITABLE AND FORGIVING.) ]
[ Feel free to come and help him in the kitchen, or else sit back and wait to be served like princes. (And one princess.) ]
What: A family dinner party! Good food, music, merriment, arguing, mayhem.
Where: Delight’s Housing, #06
When: June 27
Warnings: Elvish cursing and at least a couple of fistfights.
[ The Fëanorions have now been haunted by their dead relatives for a week, but now they can all see and interact with each other's ghosts -- the house is getting very crowded! Nobody can take a step without running into somebody they have mixed feelings about, and there are tears, snarls and threats as well as laughter and hugging.
Curufin is in the kitchen and cooking up a storm. The soup is stirred, the pots and pans bang on the stove, cupboard doors open and slam shut, the fish simmers, the vegetables are chopped and steamed, dishes and tableware clatter onto to the dining room table. Glasses are filled with wine from the Speakeasy. Curufin's own lethel distillation is waiting in a decanter for after dinner. (Because yes, certainly we want them all drunk and belligerent. Good idea, Curvo!)
He hustles out of the kitchen with the first platter of food, still wearing his frilly plaid pinafore apron from one of the derelict downtown stores. He shouts into the living room in a thunderous voice more suited to a battlefield than a house of loving relatives. ]
Dinner's served! Come and get it while it's hot!
[ He bangs the platter of fragrant baked fish on the table. With luck, they'll all fall upon the dinner like a pack of hungry varren and forget their resentments. (SURE THEY WILL FORGET. BECAUSE FINWEANS, YOU KNOW, ARE CHARITABLE AND FORGIVING.) ]
[ Feel free to come and help him in the kitchen, or else sit back and wait to be served like princes. (And one princess.) ]
