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I'm running out of palindromes.
Sprinting to the finish, and if I didn't have to go bake a pie, I'd do it tonight! (I suppose I could get up early and do pie then and sprint my way to the finish in the wee hours.)
Sauron... he's just being a dick. Which he does so well. And Erestor's the only elf within a hundred acres of Angband, so you can just imagine who he's taking his aggression out on.
And with that, I leave you with... something that could only happen during NaNo... a 'counseling' session with the future counselor...
“But Feanor and his followers are not emissaries of your brother – in fact, they are renegades as much as you are! It makes no sense for you to have stolen the silmarilli from Feanor,” argued Erestor.
“Of course it does. Eventually, I will kill enough elves to convince my brother to come here and face me,” explained Morgoth. “Admittedly, I may have killed a few for more personal reasons, but then, a father is entitled to make such decisions from time to time.”
“I... what do you mean?” Erestor looked back at Morgoth. “Do you speak of Gothmog?” he asked, for rumors were that the lord balrog was of Morgoth’s own flesh and blood.
“Gothmog...” Morgoth let out an agonized sound. “He was so very loyal to me. Like a son, as he was a son. Yes, those who speak of it speak the truth."
Yeah... so... I blame that bit on the fact that there's a virtual cocktail party that happened one night for the ML-types, and I *may* have written that under the influence of a cocktail... or three...
you be the judge
to balance that, something a bit more thought out, from probably the second or third day of writing... 'the truth about blonds', if i were naming the chapters and had to title the one this part is in...
( Read more... )
Sprinting to the finish, and if I didn't have to go bake a pie, I'd do it tonight! (I suppose I could get up early and do pie then and sprint my way to the finish in the wee hours.)
Sauron... he's just being a dick. Which he does so well. And Erestor's the only elf within a hundred acres of Angband, so you can just imagine who he's taking his aggression out on.
And with that, I leave you with... something that could only happen during NaNo... a 'counseling' session with the future counselor...
“But Feanor and his followers are not emissaries of your brother – in fact, they are renegades as much as you are! It makes no sense for you to have stolen the silmarilli from Feanor,” argued Erestor.
“Of course it does. Eventually, I will kill enough elves to convince my brother to come here and face me,” explained Morgoth. “Admittedly, I may have killed a few for more personal reasons, but then, a father is entitled to make such decisions from time to time.”
“I... what do you mean?” Erestor looked back at Morgoth. “Do you speak of Gothmog?” he asked, for rumors were that the lord balrog was of Morgoth’s own flesh and blood.
“Gothmog...” Morgoth let out an agonized sound. “He was so very loyal to me. Like a son, as he was a son. Yes, those who speak of it speak the truth."
Yeah... so... I blame that bit on the fact that there's a virtual cocktail party that happened one night for the ML-types, and I *may* have written that under the influence of a cocktail... or three...
you be the judge
to balance that, something a bit more thought out, from probably the second or third day of writing... 'the truth about blonds', if i were naming the chapters and had to title the one this part is in...
( Read more... )
