That about as much as Feanor is going to say about their current choice of attire for the infiltration mission. Granted the selection is poor and the quality is just a hair above shabby but at least they were made by someone with a little more skill and knowledge of how the clothes should like. Quite unlike that abomination, he was forced to wear for the last couple of weeks. Of course, he gets himself a cloak too. Pity only it doesn't have more color to it. Just a narrow band of red ornaments embroidered close the hem.
Team ... Orange - the drop
No, Feanor is not part of the Team Orange but also he's not someone who'd just obey commands issued by disembodied, robotic voices. Once he decided his Team is going to be just fine without him, there is no way of stopping him. There never was. If the Valar couldn't stop him from doing whatever he damn wanted then surely stupid train rules don't stand a chance either. It's not that he's worried sick about his son's vision, no ... He so is. What are you even suggesting? Curufin is a capable fighter he doesn't need his dad watching over him.
Honorary Orange, take one: helping
Feanor never before in his life has seen so many broken axles and lost horseshoes. It is truly a waste of his skills but someone has to do it. At least they were grateful enough to supply him with tools so he can do his job. The people of the city are peasants, simple folk. Merchants, farmers, shepherds. Not many craftsmen. Even less smiths. They don't mind being barked at as long as they get their possessions mended. They have armed themselves to the best of their abilities but they are no warriors. If the winged demons Curufin saw in his dream get to them, it's going to be a bloodbath. All those makeshift pikes, pitchforks and scythes would not help people more used to their agricultural use. He could make some improvements to turn them into more proper weapons but he would need time for this. Time that he doesn't have. And that just makes him even more irritated by the whole affair.
Honorary Orange, take two: the cliffs The road is steep and treacherous. He could hear the echo of wolves howling. Not close enough to pose a danger. Yet. Feanor still doesn't have a sword, only a hammer but it'll do. It's a better weapon than none. Anything coming close with intent to harm will still feel the full force of his ire.
Wildcard.
Need help with a stubborn grandma? Little kids scared of a teleporting spider? Anything else?
no subject
"Finally! Some normal clothes at last!"
That about as much as Feanor is going to say about their current choice of attire for the infiltration mission. Granted the selection is poor and the quality is just a hair above shabby but at least they were made by someone with a little more skill and knowledge of how the clothes should like. Quite unlike that abomination, he was forced to wear for the last couple of weeks.
Of course, he gets himself a cloak too. Pity only it doesn't have more color to it. Just a narrow band of red ornaments embroidered close the hem.
Team ... Orange - the drop
No, Feanor is not part of the Team Orange but also he's not someone who'd just obey commands issued by disembodied, robotic voices. Once he decided his Team is going to be just fine without him, there is no way of stopping him. There never was. If the Valar couldn't stop him from doing whatever he damn wanted then surely stupid train rules don't stand a chance either. It's not that he's worried sick about his son's vision, no ...
He so is.What are you even suggesting? Curufin is a capable fighter he doesn't need his dad watching over him.Honorary Orange, take one: helping
Feanor never before in his life has seen so many broken axles and lost horseshoes. It is truly a waste of his skills but someone has to do it. At least they were grateful enough to supply him with tools so he can do his job. The people of the city are peasants, simple folk. Merchants, farmers, shepherds. Not many craftsmen. Even less smiths. They don't mind being barked at as long as they get their possessions mended. They have armed themselves to the best of their abilities but they are no warriors. If the winged demons Curufin saw in his dream get to them, it's going to be a bloodbath. All those makeshift pikes, pitchforks and scythes would not help people more used to their agricultural use. He could make some improvements to turn them into more proper weapons but he would need time for this. Time that he doesn't have. And that just makes him even more irritated by the whole affair.
Honorary Orange, take two: the cliffs
The road is steep and treacherous. He could hear the echo of wolves howling. Not close enough to pose a danger. Yet. Feanor still doesn't have a sword, only a hammer but it'll do. It's a better weapon than none. Anything coming close with intent to harm will still feel the full force of his ire.
Wildcard.
Need help with a stubborn grandma? Little kids scared of a teleporting spider? Anything else?