[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Feanor of the Peredhil's character


NAME: Alumìne Umfuìl (though the ‘e’ is silent, her name is often pretentiously pronounced by others as “Ah-loom-IN-ee Um-FOY-ul” when it’s actually pronounced “Al-oo-MIN Um-FOY-l”. She calls herself Alli.)

AGE: 18

RACE: Human

GENDER: Female

WEAPONS (No magical, super-hero, mithril weapons. Just good solid Middle-earth weapons and armor only that is appropriate to the race of the character and the time period.): piercing tongue is just about it, though when she’s in Mordor, she learns to use paper as a weapon, cutting her enemies with the razor sharp edges. Also in Mordor, she carries several small bottles containing angry bees and mosquitoes to sic on people.

APPEARANCE: Alli is 5’7” and thin, having grown from 5’3” and less thin in a very short time span. She has not yet grown accustomed to her lengthened frame and often trips over her own feet, stubbing her toes painfully. Her walk is very suited to her, as a sort of mix between sauntering and shuffling. She is working tirelessly to regain the grace she once had. Her hair is black as night and she tends to wear it braided tightly and bound away from her face. Her delightfully piercing eyes are an interesting blend of colors that lazy people oft term “grey”, though they are mostly blue, containing flecks of gold, brown, and many other tones of that variety. She far prefers to wear casual clothing, but listens when her mother tells her that she must always dress appropriately for the circumstance.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Alumìne hates her name, but can’t for her own life convince people to either say it correctly or simply call her Alli, as she prefers. They insist on over-pronouncing the superfluous letter. She often mispronounces others’ names as retribution. Once they begin to call her Alli, she begins to say their names right. Alli’s strength is in her clever tongue: she needs little time to tease easily and can talk her way into or out of nearly anything. Most people laugh off her sarcasm, but it has been known to get her into spots of a bother with people who take things too seriously. When battling, she often resorts to tactics such as speaking in depth about whatever subject springs to mind to divert the attention of the enemy. In Gondor, she tries hard to limit her speech, but once in Mordor, she goes off onto whichever Anakronism springs to mind. Alli is very out-spoken and has interesting quirks that often annoy other people, or at least make her impossible for them to understand.

HISTORY: Alli was born in FA 632 to a moderately happy and very loving family living several miles outside of the city of Minas Tirith. She was the youngest of the children by many years, and her brothers and parents were very fond of her, though all but one of her siblings no longer lived at home. Terrified of the Anakronisms that had taken over the world and ensnared several family members already, the Umfuìl family kept their infant daughter hidden, afraid that her first word would be something hideous like “loyer” or “chav,” and that it would be uttered in the hearing of a stranger. As Alumìne grew to speak, her parents’ fears were proven well-founded. Her first words were “my bad”, uttered adorably from her cherubic lips. Her parents gasped. Her mother fell weeping into her father’s arms, as he shook with repressed emotion. Even Alli’s stubborn brother Enaichel, who had been sitting moodily in a corner for quite some time, was encouraged to action. He cried out, waving his “L” shaped walking stick, and took his beloved sister into his arms, looking into her glowing eyes with pity.

“We must never let her be heard until she learns not to speak these things.” He murmured, looking worriedly to his parents.

"Literary theory.” The baby gurgled. Her mother sobbed. With much regret, the family made the decision to keep Alumìne a secret until she was older. They could not bear for her to be taken from them.

As Alli grew into a child, she was educated at home in all manner of things. She learned her letters and she could think algebraically. She was most interested, however, in her government. She learned at a young age that the King of Gondor was not on par with his fathers of old. As she grew into a lovely teenager, she ignored her parents’ desires for her safety and became rather outspoken about her view on the politics of Gondor. By this time, she had learned not to speak when an Anakronism would invade her thoughts. Her family had moved into Minas Tirith, and Alli was loved by her neighbors as an enthusiastic, if a little odd, young woman, who never shirked her duties and was a joy to be with.

However Alli’s luck turned one cold morning when she was walking to the market to purchase milk for her family. She glimpsed a piece of parchment nailed to a door. The theses written thereon contained nearly one hundred points. She read each swiftly, becoming more and more dissatisfied with the King’s political agenda. “Even a Yankees announcer would make a better leader than him.” She muttered rebelliously and without thought. Suddenly she was seized from behind by a pair of large and angry looking guards. “She spoke an Anakronism.” one said. “She has assigned herself to Mordor.” agreed the other. Without further ado, Alumìne Umfuìl was transported to the most desolate part of Middle Earth. She never even got to say goodbye to her parents, annoying and preachy though they were, or even to watch Enaichel play his sports again.

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Feanor of the Peredhil's post


Alli stood moping in the back of the crowd gathered at Caer Pairadocks and glared moodily at all those who jostled her. It was not nearly late enough in the morning for this sort of thing, and the fact that she had been all but ordered to attend this... this... this ceremony, as it were... it boiled the blood in her veins. At least she wasn't at work, she thought with disgruntlement. The job of affixing wings to balrogs was a difficult one, trying to work in shadow, and the worst was, all balrog-wingers tended to get burned on a regular basis by the foolish beasts that refused to adopt the reality of the situation with grace. She grimaced at the raw blisters on her hands. They would heal quickly... if the mostly inept physicians that populated Mordor had one thing going for them, it was that they were excellent at treating burns. Suddenly the very flugellic sound of horns met Alli's ears.

It had to be horns, she thought. No hope for any creativity... She glared with renewed passion at the men that shoved past her to reach the front of the crowd. Suddenly there was a hush. An austere voice split the air like lightening, leaving the crowd tingling with anticipation. Even Alli perked up, morning though it was. A chance to get out of Mordor? she thought. An inconsiderate smoker lit up in front of her just as the wind decided to caress Alli's face. She forgot the ceremony as she choked, her eyes beginning to water. Gasping for breath, she was grabbed by a nearby nurse.

"On a scale of one to ten," the woman said, "how much does it hurt?"

Alli ignored her, stumbling her way through the crowd and away from the smoke that burned her lungs. Suddenly she realized that she was standing right beside a tall man, clad entirely in black. As she fell forward, catching herself just before she skinned her knees, the man turned to her with an aristocratic sneer. She gasped as she noticed the Anakronism Dweomer in his grasp. He turned from her, caring little for the antics of a girl barely into womanhood, and addressed the ATM before him. Alli whispered to the kindly looking old woman next to her.

"What are you in for?" she asked, curiously.

"Me? Well, my word. How that's any of your business, I'll never know." Alli looked incredulously at the easily offended woman and turned away from her, looking for an understanding face. She found one in the form of a very good looking young man. He seemed to be stifling laughter.

"Are you laughing at me?" she asked as the ATM took an absurdly long time to continue its processing.

"Sure I am. Are you going to get offended?" he responded. She looked at him in momentary shock and then laughed. "I'll bet you're wondering what this whole ceremony is for."

"How did you know!?" she gasped.

"I'm am a Seer... in the distant future, I will be called "psychic". I tried to explain my foresight and was put here by the King's writ. But this..." he gestured toward the crowd, the man... the ATM. "There's been news. A certain number of Assignees are being given a chance to leave Mordor."

"Wha-" she began, suddenly remembering the voice that had reached even over the bustling crowd. "Oh, yes... I heard that part. How are they chosen?"

He responded with an ironic smile. "The ATM. The ATM handles all transactions in these parts."

"I should have known."

Suddenly the crowd went silent as the proverbial grave. The ATM had spat out a piece of paper. Anakron took it with his abnormally long fingers and glanced at it for a moment.

"The first member of the Offending Party is..." he began. Alli recognized the look in his eye. It was the look that never failed to accompany a mis-pronunciation of her name. She hoped and prayed, and then, remembering that hoping for proper speech had never worked before, merely prayed. She could not bring herself to be excited... she simply murmered over and over the right way... He continued finally. "Alumin--" Don't say it! she thought annoyedly. The letter is superfluous. It's not supposed to go there! You don't need to say it! "Alumìn-E Umfuìl." he finished at last.

"Alli!" she cried, stepping forward. "My name is Alli. If you can't say Alumine Umfoil properly, just," she now paused between words for effect, "say," she paused again, "Alli." Suddenly it struck her properly. "Wait..." she murmered, incredulous. "I can go home? I can see Enaichel play his games again? I can tell my parents that now that I've had a real job, I actually appreciate how well I had it before?"

Anakron looked at her with disdain. "If the ATM says it is true, then it is." He turned from her with a cold swish of his cloak as another name was expelled from the machine.

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10/29 Note: Set up for easy transfer to the RPG Thread ~*~ Pio