and the encroaching migraine
A steady stream of elves has been making its way back into Rivendell over the past few days, as reconstruction nears completion. Insurance forms are all over the place. The damage was extensive, and I've seen one or two claims agents go spontaneously bald or gray within the week. The entire city is still crawling with specialist crews-- an arson investigatory team is wrapping up their investigation at ground zero (Elrond's house) as I write this. Results are still inconclusive, but their preliminary report states that Celeborn's account of the explosion is "nothing but the ravings of a drunken lunatic". I also heard them in hysterics in the ruins of the courtyard, saying something about buzzing and aliens while they were reading his written statement. I can only speculate. Pssht.
There's also a team from pest control herding up the last of the Kirbies from a rather lame Bakshi attack some time ago. We're keeping most of them in a cage on the outskirts of Imladris for now, but there are a few still hiding here and there. Someone said that they were "worse than the goblins". I didn't ask.
An army of interior decorators are snapping Polaroids and measuring the whole of the rebuilt sectors, presumably hired by residents panicked by the thought of moving into an uncoordinated estate. Even in this dimension, colour coordination is vital to the elves. It's just impossible to pull off floating about in elaborate robes and singing your pointy-eared head off without looking like an utter ass if your roman blinds clash with your ashtrays.
Bloody Hell. Must go. Kirby eating a landscaper. Elrond busy eating a creamsicle. Bastard. Never had this much trouble with Lothlórien. Damn it.
There's also a team from pest control herding up the last of the Kirbies from a rather lame Bakshi attack some time ago. We're keeping most of them in a cage on the outskirts of Imladris for now, but there are a few still hiding here and there. Someone said that they were "worse than the goblins". I didn't ask.
An army of interior decorators are snapping Polaroids and measuring the whole of the rebuilt sectors, presumably hired by residents panicked by the thought of moving into an uncoordinated estate. Even in this dimension, colour coordination is vital to the elves. It's just impossible to pull off floating about in elaborate robes and singing your pointy-eared head off without looking like an utter ass if your roman blinds clash with your ashtrays.
Bloody Hell. Must go. Kirby eating a landscaper. Elrond busy eating a creamsicle. Bastard. Never had this much trouble with Lothlórien. Damn it.