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Re: Glimpses Through Paint? by Dagmar
[September 23, 2019, 05:38:05 PM]

Re: Open Communication by Dagmar
[September 22, 2019, 12:45:21 AM]

Re: like little fireflies by Faramir
[September 22, 2019, 12:37:10 AM]

Re: Out to Where the Branch May Break... by Líknví
[September 21, 2019, 05:56:38 PM]

Re: Open Threads by Legolas
[September 21, 2019, 11:19:27 AM]

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First Time / Re: The Shula Region
« Last post by Ulmo on Today at 06:47:24 AM »
Once Upon a Time AU / Re: Glimpses Through Paint?
« Last post by Dagmar on September 23, 2019, 05:38:05 PM »
Dabney sprinted down the hallway, glad that today, and height aside, she had not opted for heeled sandals since they would have slowed her down. She almost lost one of her binders and slowed momentum to deftly catch it with her arm and nudge it back into the pile she carried.

This was vaguely reminiscent of when she'd been a student here, she thought; since she would have had to have been, it being the only school district in the small town of Middleton. Though memories of school were vague.

A few minutes late having to explain something to one of her math teachers at the university (with her Art concentration and degree field, not her best subject) and now she was running late for the half-intern assignment her adviser had set up and which would help towards her degree!

And late was not going to look good on a resume!

At least relationships gave her a sounding board, she thought, before shutting the thought down. No, Felix did not want to hear about this kind of mundane on their date tonight. Though she thankfully knew him enough by now to know he would not be defensive about math professors if she complained a slight bit on hers. He hadn't liked his even lower level math teachers either and it was just a sad fact numbers were associated with banking.

Though she would still say he had a better head for them than her!

Stowing the small smile thought of Felix Durrant always brought nowadays, as she rounded the corner, Dabney slowed, so as to not appear she'd been in a hurry, double checked her hair left loose, and entered the classroom. At first she worried she'd been too late and everyone had given up...but no it was only by a few minutes.

Oh no...had no one showed? What did she do if that was the case?

Dabney was just wondering this when she caught sight of the girl up at the board. Oh, ok, so one, she sighed. Then smiled and watched her progress with the chalk.

The girl had a steady hand, her artistic eye caught. Dabney walked up to the front of the teacher’s desk softly, trying to not disrupt and get an unhindered view of this, her possible only student’s, skill set, but also not startle the girl. She softly set down her books and binders, smiling.

She stuck to simple lines, three points for a simple tulip and just curves for a basket, but those came off well enough, thanks to her steady hand. Or it helped right where some parts of the lines were perhaps a bit crooked so that the rest wasn’t as noticeable.
First Time / The Shula Region
« Last post by R on September 23, 2019, 12:22:25 PM »
The Blue Mountains / Re: Open Communication
« Last post by Dagmar on September 22, 2019, 12:45:21 AM »
She'd gained a laugh for her story! A clear, unhindered, laugh from out of Líknví! Oh and it was such a wonderful sound! She was determined she was going to continue to do all she could to put her younger sister-in-law at ease and gain even more instances of it and like this.

”Da’s i’ bre’ sa’ ru’ ta’ tal’ a’ Fizz?”

Dags immediately caught the words and with interest sparking in her green eyes, shook her head. Well maybe she was lying and just too curious and maybe Líknví should pause to tell on Fritz but...she wouldn't tell!

"I don't think so, and I won't tell promise!", the still maiden, who thankfully wasn't to the point that people would throw around the word spinster yet, assured.

It was apparently a bit much for Líknví's words, and she turned to writing out the tale. Dags took a leisurely sip of her tea as she patiently waited. She would have all her tea functions be this, if she could, meetings she wanted and chosen by her and with genuine friends and family!

When Líknví had finished, Dagmar leaned forward with interested and, after checking she could, scooted her sister-in-law's nice leather bound book closer to read. A smile quirked one corner of Dags' mouth fondly as she began reading a tale that didn't surprise her in the least.

Being a smith, I’m sure he thought he could fix anything, and a shelf was simple!

He does, yes

Dags' smile grew as, off an idea formed before, and with her sister's before permission, she pulled from a pocket of her dress a bit of dyed charcoal she had utilized before and in coming around to a good way to try for that back and forth of conversation in the written form with Líknví as well.

Glancing up and actually commenting would work, but Lí would sort of be guessing to which statement and depending on how much she had written. Dags had filed down the charcoal thin enough to neatly answer in the margins next to Líknví's statements and all manner of colors were interspersed in between conversations of theirs like this, whatever color of dye she had on hand and had gone with really!

And carting slight specks of color on her fingers and self was nothing new for Dagmar and they were casual dresses.

She giggled as she read the rest of it and then, so Líknví wouldn't receive the answers out of order, and her stating her answer to the last statement before letting Lí read the first, Dags just daintily scrawled in the white space at the bottom.

Oh Lí! He would have taken as long as he could!

She pushed this over, and then waited for the other's blue eyes to fix on her again, a laugh in Lí's own smile, before going on.

"It could be years later, you could be updating to a larger house and selling that one, and Fritz would let you sell that house, with the sub-par shelf, and wait until the new homeowners tried to put something on it, watch as it slid off, and then state "how did that happen" like he didn't know!", Dags laughed.  "I'm sure I don't have to tell you, Fritz doesn't take miles for inches, he takes kingdoms! I have another story and I'll do one worse and write it out also in permanent markings for you to always have! If I may!". Dags motioned for the book again, to write out and ensure she didn't speak too quickly for Líknví.

Why, when he was naught but Ten years old, our parents let him stay out of doors a bit longer than usual, past when the sun went down, but just barely. He was in the company of two of our other brothers and our father and being shown hunting traps, so it was allowed. I wasn't there then, but next hunting trip, I went with them to gather flowers for paints and Fritz came with us.

Now, it's important to know the exact wording my father said that last time, because that is what Fritz used. He said, "he was being useful so why not let it go this time", or some such statement that amounted to this. So, on this trip where I was there, Fritz offered to help me gather flowers. Lí have never watched a child do so such a simple task as pick flowers as slowly as our dear boy did!

I was hiding in a laugh, and our father was of course more than a bit exasperated when he found us! I think Andi and 'Nar found it funny too. Fritz even claimed some of them were no good, of the five or so he had by that point, so he had to pick others.

Dags laughed and pushed this tale over to Líknví next.
Edoras / Re: like little fireflies
« Last post by Faramir on September 22, 2019, 12:37:10 AM »
There was a rare beauty in Edoras, something exceptional in its distinctive position in the low, wide valley.  All around them snow-capped mountains rose skyward, cradling and shielding the capital.  Here the sky seemed impossibly endless, the azure horizons fast becoming one of the prince’s favourite aspects of Rohan.  No malignant darkness bubbled in the distance, poisoning hearts and minds with the constant threat of danger.

It was amusing that, just as Faramir’s mind turned to jeopardy, a cry arose from a nearby hillock.  The sound was boyish to the prince’s ears and, perhaps because he himself had once been a youth content to wile away hours with such games, he reacted only with a surprised smile, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the sun.  From the corner of his gaze, he was aware of Éowyn's initially reflexive, defensive response, pale fingers reaching for a sword that was not there.  The lady had endured much, so much so that even in the warmth of day, even in the familiarity of her homeland, it seemed possible that peril waited around any corner.  It was understandable, given the shadow she had once lived under.

The cheerful sound of Rohirric reached their ears, whilst a weak protest fell from Éowyn’s lips.  Turning a corner, they were greeted by twin boys, topped with matching flaming hair.  Mischievousness was written into their mirrored expressions and Faramir was reminded, briefly, painfully, of Boromir and the shared escapades of their youth.  The boys were surely Mordekai and Eodred, as Éowyn’s objection had revealed.

The lady’s demeanour even now was one of embarrassment, the weight of her mortification bending her body, though the smile on her lips spoke of the joy she felt.  Having arrived at a farmhouse, they were able to watch as a comely red-haired woman stepped outside.  Fleet footed, she all but flew across the ground, throwing her slender arms around Éowyn the moment she dismounted, the pair giggling and grasping lovingly onto one another.  Her adoration for the Lady of Rohan was apparent, and the shameless display of affection from Piria - as Éowyn’s further protest named her - causing Faramir’s heart sing.  It came as no revelation to him that the kind-hearted, dutiful shieldmaiden was beloved by her people.

It was with a faint, amused smile that he dismounted.  As the two women spoke hurriedly to one another in Rohirric, the prince was reminded that he was an outsider here, and he decided then that he would redouble his efforts to learn the language.  Having no desire to intrude on what was clearly a warm reunion, he contented himself with stroking a hand lightly over Sedryn’s forehead, at least until a middle-aged man - with a young girl perched on his hip - exited the farmhouse.  Faramir was aware of this greying man regarding him for a long moment, but did not anticipate the words that would fall from his tongue, nor the language he would use, nor even that the man would know who he was.

Mae govannen, Faramir greeted in return, smoothing a hand over Sedryn’s velvety muzzle.  Im carú ist na dang I melui deng o Sindarin sen haeron od bâr.  The prince smiled then, warmly, surprised at how grateful he was for this small taste of home.  The question of how this man knew Sindarin, or even how he had been able to identify him as a prince, were not so pressing as to be asked immediately.  Instead, Faramir tilted his head towards Éowyn, who was still caught in Piria’s embrace, and continued on with a fond and simple observation - He sen mela.


“Well met.”

“I did not expect to hear the familiar sound of Sindarin so far from home.”

“She is loved.”
The Blue Mountains / Re: Out to Where the Branch May Break...
« Last post by Líknví on September 21, 2019, 05:56:38 PM »
To say Líknví's curiosity wasn't peaked with every step would be a lie. Fritz was so...excited wasn't the right word. He had something wonderful to show, Lí could tell that much. This was so like the wheel-swing only...grander.

In all their time together, Líknví felt she could read Fritz fairly well. Well...hoped she could.

Yet still, all this did not give her any inkling of a clue, thankfully. Fritz could be excited about so many varying things, and all of them wonderful, but it negated the necessity of their being grand to elicit such a response.

As she now let herself be lead, fully trusting and even excited herself now, Lí smiled fondly at Fritz's back, and where he couldn't see. Oh, she loved him so much it was threatening to bursting out of her in a bout of joy at times, and had!

She thought she felt something herself, and glanced up same instant as Fritz, but still he detected the identity first. Oh, a shower.

Not...a bad thing, and she'd been caught in plenty in her varying time Outside. Not that first day with Kvas and Rian as a tiny Dwarfling though. Thankfully that day had remained clear*. No, her first shower of rain ever experienced had been on that flight from the Grey Mountains. Without either with her.

It wasn't a pleasant memory, and had almost ruined the concept for her. She had been between caravans, hiding out at the edge of a glade and on the look out for some other to sneak on, when the concept of the sky doing such and leaking water first burst upon her. Of all the bleakness Ered Mithrin had, that form of cold, wet and miserable hadn't been a part of it, huddled in the meager tree cover, Kvasir's cloak doing very little but becoming clingy.

The circumstances made weather, though, it seemed. She'd then seen more rain in Bree, so much of it, at times a nuisance but watching it from the windows of the Prancing Pony was different and sort of nice she supposed and, when cover was knowingly nearby, she'd explored the concept of puddle splashing.

This was sort of more akin to the first, and being truly stuck out in it, but with Fritz there it was tolerable. After shooting out his apologetic signs, he shrugged off his cloak and without a thought draped it over her, next grabbing her hand again and as they tried to beat it back.

They wouldn't of course.

Still, Lí caught as Fritz glanced back to her to nod that he had a plan. Perhaps in false bravado but...he did inspire confidence, if only in her. As she held the hood in place with her other hand (not failing to notice how drenched he was getting as a result of his chivalry!) she nodded back, whether he caught it or not.

It wasn't all bravado, though, and Fritz had spotted out a shelter, which they rushed up under and inside of. Light still seeped through both the clouds and door (but not roof thankfully, nor the water), enough for her to now get a better glance of just how drenched he'd become in safe-guarding her.

It very Fritz, and it touched her deeply.

"I'm sorry Lí...This was not how I wanted it to go at all..."

As if he could control the weather! Yet seeming to pretend he could was also just so very him. Oh, how could she not care so deeply for this Dwarf before her! Every...little nuance of how he was!

Líknví shook her head with a smile. "Dan' ba'...", she giggled.

But he was, for some reason...

Lí watched, puzzled, as he kicked at the floor. All over one spoiled outing? Well, hadn't she bemoaned burned baked goods? Maybe they weren't so different. Líknví's smile over this amusing, and pleasing, thought fell a bit as his next words made a suspicion she couldn't even really fathom yet first start to creep in.

"I had it all planned out...trained birds...they were going to deliver a note..."

What was he talking about...?

What sort of grand plan would be worth...

"Oh, and as for this place, it's just an old...hunting shed and spot where falcons could be kept one time. I don't know if Ko ever used it himself, but through him I knew of it and...that it would be sealed tight enough we could wait out the storm maybe".

His next words lifted the atmosphere a bit, thankfully, and Líknví smiled softly, "Sa' na' Bar' Swala's?", she asked in no doubt very confusing, and so she gestured up to where one of the birds, a common little barn swallow, was also taking shelter, nestled asleep in the corner on one of the beams, and now that the falcons were gone, as he said.

Again, if that had ever been a thing.

Just trying to help him with her slight jest.

Fritz brushed back a section of her hair that had escaped being to wind whipped, thanks to him, but might have been mussed from under the hood, though Lí would take the touch even if there wasn't some pragmatic use for it.

So she was left slightly disappointed when he lowered his hand, afraid it was cold no doubt, and went on apologizing.

"Sorry, Lí probably regret following me now..."

She instantly reached over to answer him by taking the removed hand of his in both of hers, pressing it reassuringly and even bringing it up to deliver a light kiss to his knuckles before lowering it again and going on, gazing at him earnestly, "Na' a' dan' Fizz, nava'", she further assured, then giggled, "A's jas' wada', wa'l cam' a' tamara'". She liked that idea actually! Another day, just out with him.

As if to avoid, again, why he was so bothered by all this, and because they both had to be chilled, him more so, and again pragmatic aside, Líknví next stepped up to hug him and even rest against him, head ducked up under his chin.

"Don't be..."
"So not Barn Swallows?"
"No I don't Fritz, never"
"It's just water, we'll come out tomorrow"

{*So yeah, we don't know yet much about that day hehe, but if it remains clear that will help this statement ^^}
First Time / Re: Dalibor Weyr
« Last post by Ulmo on September 21, 2019, 05:12:25 PM »
First Time / Dalibor Weyr
« Last post by Jennifer Klahn on September 21, 2019, 03:25:39 PM »

A Dragonriders of Pern RPG
Semi-canon | 11th Pass | No AIVAS | 8+ years running
What is Pern? | Dragons | Whers | Rules | Character Creation
Roleplaying Extras / Re: Open Threads
« Last post by Legolas on September 21, 2019, 11:19:27 AM »
Code: [Select]
[b]Thread:[/b] [URL=]some feel the rain, others just get wet.[/URL]
[b]Location:[/b] Mirkwood.
[b]Started By:[/b] Legolas.
[b]Other Characters Involved: None yet.[/b]
Mirkwood / some feel the rain, others just get wet
« Last post by Legolas on September 21, 2019, 11:17:59 AM »
timeline: pre-lotr era, otherwise flexible within the Third Age.

location: near the Mirkwood border, Eriador side

Legolas rarely got time away from his duties. And even when he did, it still wouldn't be the kind of time spent in the usual sense of what classified as 'time off the job'. Being born to one half of it sort of made that an issue...though even then, and even when he did grow weary, he couldn't say he was overly rankled by it. Being wanted around to do the things that were required of him, whether it was as Prince of the Woodland Realm, or command-in-charge of the rangers, wardens and scouts of the armies of the Mirkwood, meant that he was doing his job right, regardless of how unpleasant you sometimes had to be when in charge. He'd learned that early on, that sometimes it was socially unpleasant, if only because some needed a reminder of their place within the woods, especially when standing beside him. Good-hearted and gentle did not, contrary to popular belief, mean weak.

Legolas crinkled his nose slightly at the thought of that even needing to be necessary, never mind the entitled beings it usually meant dealing with. Mind, the nose crinkle might have also been at the sudden drop of ice cold rain fallen from a laden branch and straight down his collar, shivering and arching his spine a little until the water settled, warmed and disappeared, into the waist of his breeches. Not that he minded this, either -- sort of time off duties or not, it was a chance to be out without the need to worry overly for any other than himself, and even the threat of rain couldn't dim the quiet joy that came with recharging one's self, especially within the balm of one's best and most loved environment.

He did have something of a purpose, though. The pregnant chestnut mare who followed along behind him, hooves a quiet sound where his steps were silent in the damp undergrowth, for one; she was too far along to be ridden well any longer, but Legolas knew, from his adolescent years spent helping in the stables, that inertia for the gravid female of any species could sometimes prolong the discomfort of their state. And so he'd offered to take her out, and it had been gladly accepted. By the mare too, for she followed along placidly, content so long as Legolas did not take her through a path too narrow for her plump form, though she breathed deep the rain and wet earth in the air, and the Prince noted, with a small measure of affection (and perhaps a little pride) how she kept her ears constantly roving when one was not on him-- a scout's horse through and through, even despite the inward turning her thoughts were no doubt beginning to take towards the life growing within her.

That was the reality of it, though. Watching over their realm never really ended, and even now, Legolas himself kept his ears figuratively pricked even as he enjoyed their meandering, as much out of habit as out of a desire to find his other reason for taking this direction through the woods. In this case, another gravid female, though a fallow deer this time. She was new to their home, somewhat alone, and though he'd no doubt be teased for taking it upon himself to be the apparent keeper of all pregnant ladies within the realm on his days off, Legolas could not help caring. The deer in particular, he was concerned for, as though she was pregnant, he had not, when he had last seen her, noticed any others with her that would have formed the small mob that might have afforded her some safety.

His head cocked to the side eventually at a quiet rumble pulling him from his thoughts, his hands touching the bow lightly where it rested over his shoulder. The sound quickly identified itself as thunder, though, and the Prince huffed as rain began to fall in earnest. The huff became a little chuckle when his equine lady came close enough to nudge him (rather pointedly) in the back, and so they continued on a short distance until adequate shelter was before them. Only a tree, but large and old, comfortable and untainted by any rape inflicted by spider or man, and so Legolas left the mare with a fond pat to make herself comfortable under the dryness the leaves offered, before he, a little less bothered by the falling water, climbed a short distance up until he was just out of reach. There, he found a comfortable nook in which to settle himself and his bow, a good vantage point that kept his mare in sight while also affording a view out into the forest.

A deep breath was taken in, before it exhaled with a soft chuckle and a little smile when a red-throated little bird buzzed by not a moment later, no rancor in the Prince's form at it startling him just a little as he watched the hummingbird taking to the flowers blooming on the outermost branches. He enjoyed the little creature's in particular for their quick, studious efforts, oddly relieved by it even, though he was long past the age where he had believed tall tales that told him the little birds would bleed out and die if they stopped moving.

"The job is never done, indeed," he whispered, still watching the little bird even as he set an arrow idly to his bow, half lifting it in a warning to whoever had made noise just now to identify themselves. Not spider or Orc, at the very least, but still. It was rude to sneak, and though he was rather lax on most occasions where courtly manners were at work, he did not appreciate the disrespect it implied if it was indeed someone who was doing it for lesser reasons than uncertainty towards approaching him on his part.
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