all work and no play makes Turu a dull boy
Even with all that's been going on, a guy still needs to stop and have some fun. We'd all go mad if we were nothing but serious all the time.
Finrod: *hiding from his relatives*
Turgon: *looks for, since, hey, Finrod is awesome*
finrod: *sticks his head out from chandelier* Can we make a city that none of our relatives and visit?
Turgon: I tried that. Look what happened.
Finrod: ...it could be a very small city.
Turgon: Population two?
Finrod: Yes. Well fortified.
Turgon: Just one or two large towers, maybe? *grins*
finrod: I was thinking pillows.
Turgon: *chuckles* Right, of course.
Finrod: Pillows are very foreboding!
Turgon: I suppose they can be. I've always been fond of them, myself.
finrod: *menaces with pillow* We could make a dragon shaped pillow, and a spider shaped pillow
Turgon: Maybe one the shape of my adar? I can think of nothing more terrifying.
Finrod: But what scares him?
Turgon: Nothing.
finrod: *Scampers back up in chandelier* Maybe we should have a tower or two.
Turgon: I'm good with towers. *raises an eyebrow*
Finrod: *defense* No one's found me yet up here!
Turgon: No one's been looking for you, either. Just me. But I found you.
finrod: They will! And then I'll end up as a radish again.
Turgon: ...did you fall on your head? Are you feeling okay?
Finrod: *swings in his chandelier* I still have nightmares about having leafy fronds. All because I talked to family members.
Turgon: Maglor doesn't count. She's fucked in the brain. *taps the side of his head* Besides, she's gone and left town, anyway.
Finrod: Fronds! Erm. Oh, that's sad.
Turgon: Not that sad. You should come down. Let me take you out for a nice dinner and maybe some private time behind locked doors up in my tower loft.
Finrod: *slowly descends* No salads?
Turgon: Not if you don't want them.
Finrod: No salads ever again.
Turgon: Anything you want, my lovely one.
Finrod: *decidedly* porkchops.
Turgon: Can do. *offers his arm* Remember, we have to behave like "proper" cousins in public.
Finrod: *sneaky snog* I'll behave, I promise.
Turgon: We can misbehave after. *winks*
Finrod: ...promise?
Turgon: Of course.
Finrod: Okay. Applesauce too.
Turgon: *chuckles* Of course.
Finrod: *hiding from his relatives*
Turgon: *looks for, since, hey, Finrod is awesome*
finrod: *sticks his head out from chandelier* Can we make a city that none of our relatives and visit?
Turgon: I tried that. Look what happened.
Finrod: ...it could be a very small city.
Turgon: Population two?
Finrod: Yes. Well fortified.
Turgon: Just one or two large towers, maybe? *grins*
finrod: I was thinking pillows.
Turgon: *chuckles* Right, of course.
Finrod: Pillows are very foreboding!
Turgon: I suppose they can be. I've always been fond of them, myself.
finrod: *menaces with pillow* We could make a dragon shaped pillow, and a spider shaped pillow
Turgon: Maybe one the shape of my adar? I can think of nothing more terrifying.
Finrod: But what scares him?
Turgon: Nothing.
finrod: *Scampers back up in chandelier* Maybe we should have a tower or two.
Turgon: I'm good with towers. *raises an eyebrow*
Finrod: *defense* No one's found me yet up here!
Turgon: No one's been looking for you, either. Just me. But I found you.
finrod: They will! And then I'll end up as a radish again.
Turgon: ...did you fall on your head? Are you feeling okay?
Finrod: *swings in his chandelier* I still have nightmares about having leafy fronds. All because I talked to family members.
Turgon: Maglor doesn't count. She's fucked in the brain. *taps the side of his head* Besides, she's gone and left town, anyway.
Finrod: Fronds! Erm. Oh, that's sad.
Turgon: Not that sad. You should come down. Let me take you out for a nice dinner and maybe some private time behind locked doors up in my tower loft.
Finrod: *slowly descends* No salads?
Turgon: Not if you don't want them.
Finrod: No salads ever again.
Turgon: Anything you want, my lovely one.
Finrod: *decidedly* porkchops.
Turgon: Can do. *offers his arm* Remember, we have to behave like "proper" cousins in public.
Finrod: *sneaky snog* I'll behave, I promise.
Turgon: We can misbehave after. *winks*
Finrod: ...promise?
Turgon: Of course.
Finrod: Okay. Applesauce too.
Turgon: *chuckles* Of course.