[Feanor of the Peredhil]

And so it was that the day had ended, the save had been filled, and the author had been mysteriously logged off between typing and hitting post, and so the post was lost to the depths of cyberspace.

Within it were many puns, one pertaining to the tense of the word 'thought', and it involved Alli Umfuil reading parts of Malfoidacil's slanderous letter aloud.

She and Roggie argued and tabloids wrote about it. Smilog and company disappeared from Alli's radar (well, you know... her Middle Earthian equivilant of a radar... she didn't really have a radar... I was just using that as an example, ya know?) and probably had a bit of cliff-hanging adventure. Maika and Hyarmenwe were officially repremanded and their responses were left ambiguous so that their own writers could fill in the blank spots of the narration.

A few other people did a few other things, and it was written in such a way that if it had actually posted like it should have, the world would be at peace, the ozone would fix itself, teddy bears would go on picnic, turn gummi, and start dancing to various locations that rhyme, and pigs would fly through a chilly underworld.

A week flew by in an amazing narratorial blur and it ended in such a scene that the sky was darkening. It was that shade of evening wherein you can't see the deer no matter if you're using high or low beams, and all you succeed in doing is blinding other drivers that can't really see either, because the air turns opaque, the sky is pinkish, everything is really weird looking, and shadows don't seem to exist, except within your own eyes.

And so the night began...