It took some time to put the Phallos in ship-shape; enough food, water and provisions for an epic journey had to be properly stowed in an accessible manner.
The tropical sun poured down through the calm atmosphere; it's glaring reflection boiled up from the waveless sea. By midday their fatless bodies were bronzed to perfection. To escape the intolerable heat, the order was given to dip their skinnies.
Riot: "...does this mean we can go pearl diving?"
J_F: "Certainly. Ladies, how long can you hold your breath?"
Chests were immediately heaved out in a breathtaking display of lung capacity.
J_F: "...stupid question. The darker blue patches on the reef are the oyster beds. This place is lousy with them. Unfortunately, I've noticed more than a few reef sharks as well. They're usually not overly aggressive, but if one gets a little too close for comfort, a good punch on the nose usually drives them off."
M-A-F: "But what if that doesn't work?"
J_F: "Then poke him in the eye with your stump!"
hope you guys don't mind a lurking foreigner, but this thread is funny!
It has been over a month since we began our epic quest, and the rare pearl Nimphelos has remained stubbornly, alsmost playfully, just beyond our grasp. Our progress has been somewhat slower than anticipated; in fact, we have yet to hoist the anchor and set sail. We got kind of distracted by this pearl diving business, and we're actually getting kind of good at it. We've collected white rose ovals, silver teardrops, and several large, black off-rounds. With little luck, we might yet discover our own "Nimphelos" and save us all a great deal of gadding about.
When the fateful day arrived, and the fateful decision was made, to finally, fatefully set sail, Edhelanna could not be found. It was J_F (whom all the ladies referred to as 'Aqua Manly') who finally located her, and brought her soggy, limpy, lifeless body back to the ship.
J_F: "I found her...about 100 meters of the bow...by the deep channel...(he was out of breath). Her head was caught...in a Tridacna. I had to sever...the adductor muscles...to free her."
Lark: "A giant clam," said Lark, checking for Ed's pulse. "They're not very aggressive...and though they are capable of holding one fast in their grip, the shell's closing action is actually a defensive response, and too slow to pose a serious threat." She began checking for pupil reaction. "I can't imagine how you could possibly get your head caught..."
Riot stared down at the pale, lifeless body. Ed's lips had turned bright blue, very much resembling the fleshy part of the giant clam that peeks out of the top of the shell during the day. If only she, Riot, could be a Tridacna! Then would she house billions of tiny algae under her skin, and in exchange for their safe home, the algae would use the sun's energy to consume her waste and turn it into food for their loving, generous queen!
She smiled as childhood memories came flooding back. Of young Riot, crouched between two shields in a tide pool, practicing her siphoning; sucking a large quantity of water in through one and squirting a forceful jet out of another. Swallowing irritating bits of sand, and growing them, layer by slimy layer inside of her; eventually barfing a beautiful pearl, a perfect symbol of her purity, modesty and virtue. Oh, the pure bliss of sessility!
J_F tossed a blanket over Edhelanna, and tried to look serious. "Ed is on a new path, now. An eternal journey, and we wish her well."
Lark: "That makes absolutely no sense."
Riot: "So elves have immortal life AND immortal death?".
The decision was made to return Edhelanna's carcass to the land of her birth, which was made easier by the fact that it lay directly in front of them on their scheduled route. Her people inhabited the island if Aultrasia, where her ancestors had been banished since the Second Age. Aultrasia is mostly a desert, both geographically and culturally. It's inhabitants are boorish, chirpy and perky little shts whose overwhelming egotism and self belief is only possible thanks to their profoundly limited minds and world view. They are also coprophages.
The plan was to pick a nice spot and have a small, dignified ceremony for their dead friend. Unfortunately, whenever their skiff neared the shore, they were beset upon by several large, mullet-adorned elves who pelted them with pine cones and sea shells, yelling "Stay off me farkin' beach!" So in the end she was rather unceremoniously flipped over the side and into the surf.
I can't believe you killed off Ed!!
I also can't believe you're using that sig pic!!!
The part about Riot dreaming of being a clam, I can believe.
So, Lark you have a pic of Lark and J_F when they were courting, and J_F has one of when they married?
Mara wrote: So, Lark you have a pic of Lark and J_F when they were courting, and J_F has one of when they married?
I like to think that my sig pic was how I remember our courtship and his sig pic was how he remembers it. Of course both of us have changed our pics since then, but you get the idea.
Meh…I have no imagination for RP this morning.
Is it sad that I, a hot elf among the best of them, must submit herself to hairspray, curling irons, mascara, eyeliner, mascara, blue eyeshadow, more mascara, and only to attain the rank of Queen?
Right now I am sitting in a chair, getting my hair curled, for it is dress rehearsal of my University's musical, Cinderella...I play the queen, AND I have BIG BIG hair.
And so it is over. Eru, but those performances take your soul and spirit away!
Wearing more make-up than Legolas also takes something out of one.
If anyone MENTIONS Cinderella, Stepsisters' Lament, Ten Minutes Ago, or Lovely Night, I will personally hunt you down and rip your vocal cords out with my teeth.
On a better note, Mara has discovered the joy of cast parties, along with the joys of coconut rum, mixed with club soda and pineapple.
The Gothic One wrote: If anyone MENTIONS Cinderella, Stepsisters' Lament, Ten Minutes Ago, or Lovely Night, I will personally hunt you down and rip your vocal cords out with my teeth.
Um...I believe YOU just did...and the vocal cord thing...are you like reading for like Nala in the like Lion King or something, because like that's just like weird.
Speaking of weird, Riot calls the other night like FREAKING out. She's like down to the wire at school, and she's yelling in the phone "I'M MAJORING IN POLITICAL SCIENCE! EVERYONE KNOWS IT'S A PHONY MAJOR! FOUR YEARS OF SCHOOL AND I KNOW NOTHING! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOTHING!"
Well, I guess she learned one thing after all.
Riot calls the other night like FREAKING out. She's like down to the wire at school, and she's yelling in the phone "I'M MAJORING IN POLITICAL SCIENCE! EVERYONE KNOWS IT'S A PHONY MAJOR! FOUR YEARS OF SCHOOL AND I KNOW NOTHING! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOTHING!"
That's close enough to the truth that I'm just going to accept it.
right, that's it - I'm back just to haunt you! boooooooooooooo!
Strange things were happening. Weird things. Unspeakable things!
Ever since the premiere of young Maranwe's show (no admission- this adventure was all inclusive) there had been a series of unfortunate events.
Her show was a one woman tour de force; it was a five hour long study in interpretive dance called "Cold and Clammy: The Death of Edhelanna". And it was so exceedingly, mind-numbingly awful that the audience tried at least a dozen times to escape, but being on a small ship in the middle of the ocean they could not. But before their plan for mass suicide came to fruition, the final curtain came down, and with the last curtain call came the call to break out the alcohol.
But something was wrong; while they were all accounted for on the top deck, someone (or something) has smashed all of their casks of booze except for the sickeningly sweet, girly, coconut rum. And it was like syrup; the thick, brown liquid left a thick paste on their teeth and tongues and clogged their pores.
Suddenly a Sting Ray came hurtling out of the water and struck Riot square in the face, and her tongue swelled up to seven times it's normal size. This made breathing difficult, and drinking impossible, until she figured out that while lying down she could pour the alcohol into her nose and down the back of her throat, thus bypassing her abalone-like tongue.
Over the next several days they were able to reduce, but not eliminate the swelling. The tip of her tongue was always protruding from her mouth, and when she talked she sounded like a manure salesman with a mouth full of samples.
The crew found that by putting the rum over a low heat, they could evaporate it into a sticky paste which they could then roll up or flatten into wafers, which they called "rumbas". For a fortnight they remained sticky and intoxicated, and that's when things got really weird.
Wow this place is quite. If we want to plan some sort of assault on one of the dark threads, I think we should do it from here. No one ever comes here anymore.
....we should attack the Dwarves Thread. Just because we can.
Let's attack the Riders of Rohan. They are so weak.
Or better yet, let's just kick the gut juice out of somebody who has a really lame allegiance like, oh, I don't know...Dol Amroth! Give me eight good raisins why I shouldn't have your head!
No good reasons, I suppose....except I am rather attached to it, and...wait...why AM I allied to Dol Amroth?
ANd, here are eight raisens...very good sundried grapes they are....and have some dried cherrys ad cranberries as well!
WHERE ARE MY BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE?
Greetings Itslidonme! What news from the fossils of Valinor???
Haven't been there in ages. Of course, I left in somewhat of a hurry. Something about aboout a few, tiny fires, and not wearing pants.
I found the women of Valinor to be like Valinor itself; very pretty, and exceedingly dull.
Give me Middle Earth any day! Dwarves and orcs and elves knocking each other senseless, while those crazy humans gad about, frittering away their short and meaningless lives...it's a real hoot.
I've been thinking about assembling a group of hot elves to foray out into this beautiful abyss to strut our stuff. Maybe do a little hooting ourselves.
Who's with me? Any nice hooters out there?
Well, we ARE the alliance of extremely hot elves. Though I am not sure that any hooters can compare to your own, Lord Flett.
Maranwe? Is it really you?
I hardly recognize ye. I think the sombrero threw me off!
Fine! Who needs ya! I am perfectly capable of destro-...Ruling this Middle Earth all by myself!
I've been experimenting with strapping some of Gandalf's large fireworks to the sides of a horse to increase it's speed.
Will give you live updates as soon as I find the beast.
Will have to increase the surface area of the fletching and possibly remove the legs to improve ballistics.