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Re: Companionable Talk & Banter by Bilbo Baggins
[Today at 02:54:01 PM]


Re: Waking up next to you... by arasseth
[Today at 03:31:26 AM]


Re: Lord of the House of the Golden Flower by arasseth
[Today at 03:10:36 AM]


Re: Let's Talk Over a Pipe of Old Toby, Shall We? by arasseth
[Today at 12:04:58 AM]


Re: Ice, Ice Baby! by arasseth
[September 21, 2017, 09:34:17 PM]

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1
Further Afield / Re: Companionable Talk & Banter
« Last post by Bilbo Baggins on Today at 02:54:01 PM »
"He's quite unpredictable, but I'm sure he knows what he's doing. He always does."

Kíli said, next grinning. Bilbo had to chuckle, yes that the wizard did! The words brought the oddest recollection back to Bilbo; the one Gandalf himself had all but alluded to when recruiting him. He could remember more clearly now being a young Hobbit lad convinced he'd met a wizard at one of Old Took's parties. Appreciative of the fireworks and all...but more interested in the wizard himself!

The same lad that had then gone searching for said wizard next day until late.

Then Bilbo had started caring what his Hobbit neighbors thought, started caring about making a good impression, especially after being left Bagend. Not a bad thing, but he'd gone overboard with it somehow until...he was, as Gandalf 'accused' "changed, not for the better".

He also had not let his pondering get in the way of listening to what Kíli said.

I am Thorin's sister-son. I would like to see Erebor for myself, you know? It could be mine someday."

Bilbo smiled. "Yes, I think I detected your resolved even from early on back in my house.", he meant nothing but good by the statement. Kíli and Ori; the two most talkative young Dwarves even by what Bilbo could tell of Dwarf ages. Though they had still sounded better prepared than Bilbo himself for this escapade!

"Hobbits never were the type to go on Adventures, were they?"

"Oh, not at all, it's frowned upon in fact, leaving one's home and...being late for dinner. Hobbit lads get away with it...until they're older and should know better...and my mother's side, the Tooks are known to go...do odd things and explore. As are the Brandybucks, but they live near the boarder, nearer the Old Forest and Bree, you probably passed the Brandybuck's large estate on your own way way and probably even then may not have seen it, generations have lived there without having moving out. Another odd trait", Bilbo tried to explain.

He fell silent a bit, then went on, "I was...the sort of Hobbit lad said to take after my mother, when I was younger, chasing fireflies and...Elves in the woods...I even poked at Gandalf when he came to one of our parties, and knew for certain then he was a Wizard and not just a fireworks maker...then somewhere along the way I lost it when I grew up...which may be why he pulled me along".
2
Chat & Games / Re: Waking up next to you...
« Last post by arasseth on Today at 03:31:26 AM »


"Is this...is this really happening?"
3
Elves / Re: Lord of the House of the Golden Flower
« Last post by arasseth on Today at 03:10:36 AM »
Well, I'm probably going to go ahead and get Arasseth making the move to Rivendell sooner than I originally planned, just to give her something to do  Then they can meet :D
4
Hobbits / Re: Let's Talk Over a Pipe of Old Toby, Shall We?
« Last post by arasseth on Today at 12:04:58 AM »
So, by the time FotR things are happening, Arasseth should be nicely settled in Rivendell (she's from Mirkwood, I'm having her move to Rivendell pretty soon), and she's probably going to end up  being very intrigued by hobbits.  So, if you wanna have then run into each other, she's just gonna gush and fawn over him like a damn fool.
5
Elves / Re: Ice, Ice Baby!
« Last post by arasseth on September 21, 2017, 09:34:17 PM »
Oh god, I'm awful at details ._.  Just kind of figured they'd bump into something...I can't brain now ._.
6
Lossarnach / Re: A Meeting of the Lesser-Known
« Last post by Harper on September 21, 2017, 03:05:09 PM »
It hadn't worked, her near presence was still noticed, in that way that animals almost had and sensing it despite the movement. Sensing the air about them. Maybe this was going too far and assuming too much, but a hawk, even and perhaps a skin-changer also able to analyze their feelings, in a way, knew a searching gaze and this one had it!

Harper paused, feeling caught out, but still unable to move as those eyes searched about, and she was sure she stuck out, but with so many trees she had a few to aid her.

"'I truly hope you are not intending to attack me from behind and try to steal my stuff.''

The words, and their tone, somehow eased the whole of the situation. Harper peered again, but this time was less cautious and soon stepped fully out, "Um...no Sir...I couldn't do much damage to anyone". Soon as she said it, Harper instantly scrutinized her own words for their truth. As a clever hawk she could deliver scratches and so...much damage worked.

She stepped over nearer, sure there was nothing about her that looked off from any normal half-grown child of Man in a garden of Gondor. In the way of skin-changers the small clues were there, though, in her slim but short build that slightly hid being able to dart away quickly even as a human and her eyes a normal brown but something deep in their gaze perhaps.

Not as deep, perhaps, as this one, Harper would say, though she didn't gaze directly at him just yet.

"Just...taking in the scenery. You also?", Harper asked, in interest and also just explaining her purpose since it was not to waylay travelers, though she could tell he had been jesting with that.
7
First Time / Royals & Rebels [jcink] - Medieval Fantasy
« Last post by The Rebel on September 21, 2017, 06:17:51 AM »


NO WORD COUNT - PREMIUM JCINK - CHARACTER DRIVEN - HISTORICAL
--ENTER--
8
Elves / Re: Tauriel
« Last post by Vairë on September 21, 2017, 05:49:50 AM »
You're good to go!  I'm looking forward to seeing Tauriel in action again!

9
Other Times; Other Places / Strays
« Last post by Wyn on September 21, 2017, 03:51:26 AM »
(Set about five or six years ago, Hobbit timeline.)

The scattered pines of Ithilien resembled haggard old men, bent double as they were under the weight of the ice coating their boughs. The ground underfoot was hard as rock, petrified by the now-refrozen snowmelt. The weather had briefly gentled, as if to hint at the coming of spring, only to immediately plunge back into bitterly-cold temperatures. This time, however, winter didn't even send any snow to blanket the hills. Instead, the land would receive freezing rain, turning the wilderness grey and frigid and coating the trees with ice. The first few pitiful rays of pale light were peeking over the hilltops, heralding the sunrise that was soon to come. East of the Anduin, the land lay silent, undisturbed even by the spindly form making her slow way into the wilderness.

Drawing a ragged brown cloak closer around herself, she stumbled up the steep hillside, simultaneously chilled from both the cold around her and the sweat of her exertions. Tied to her belt were a pair of recently-deceased ducks, poultry filched from a nearby river-town. Stealing from her own kind was a far cry from rifling through uruk garbage piles, but hunger could drive one to do things they normally wouldn't. Her treatment in the town had made the decision a bit easier, as well. She had begged in the street for scraps, only to be driven out with harsh words and flung stones. No room for vagrants, they had said. They had a respectable town, trading up and down the river and hosting traders and mercenaries and travelers from all walks of life. But there was no room for a half-grown girl and the two companions she claimed to be trying to feed.

And so, deep in the night, she had returned to the town that had shunned her and raided a duck hutch, making off with two of the white-feathered poultry. Come morning, the farmer would likely (hopefully) blame a fox or marten for the act, and not the scruffy vagrant he had seen being chased out of town yesterday.

Only a bit further, she told herself. Her belly was hollow, aching with hunger, but once she was hidden safely in the forest, she and her companions could finally eat. She had crossed the mountains with two children in tow, a boy and a girl a few years younger than herself. Siblings, and escaped slave-farmers of Nurn, whose mother she had made a promise to get her children to safety. Ailing and fearful for her children's fate when she was gone, the woman had been desperate to find a better life for them--she had even been willing to trust their wellbeing to a renegade girl barely fifteen.

Wyn could only hope she was worthy of that trust.
10
Dale / Re: Childish Exploration
« Last post by Tilda on September 21, 2017, 03:39:44 AM »
Tilda didn't mind doing others' work. She felt like she was doing something useful, as normally her older siblings would take over her chores because she's little. But Tilda is older now. And her people need all the help they can get.

Her focus dropped when she heard her cousin's voice.

"Woah, you all are good at that"

Poor Tilda almost dropped her sewing needle. He really did scare her! After all, the room they were all working in was quite silent. It was a surprise she didn't hear him come in at all.

"Gard! You scared me..." Tilda giggled a bit and leaned forward to hit his arm gently. Her sewing needle only just missed pricking her finger. She put her work aside so she could give Gard a proper hug.

She picked up a nearby blanket and held it up for him to see. "Look! It had a big gash in the middle of it. But I fixed it! Miss Molle said I could give it to Da!" Tilda grinned. Her face was filled with pride, and for good reason too. The blanket that had once had a big hole in it was now sewn together with patches in a neat fashion that made it look like a display quilt for a couch.

Tilda sat back down in her chair and picked up her work where she left it. Sewing patches onto pouches and skirts. "So what have you been doing?" Tilda was usually silent when working. But her cousin was here, so what is there to stop her from talking? She had lived with Gard for most of her life, and he was more of a brother than a cousin.

Bard's youngest daughter had a habit of rambling. She'd start talking about one thing and then she'd get completely lost talking about everything else. Bain had learned to block out the noise of Tilda's ramblings as quickly as she learned to talk. Sigrid found it rather cute, and the pair would have many fun conversations as they did their household chores together.

But now, their house is gone. It went up in flames and disappeared under the water. They have a new house now, though. It's made out of crumbling yellow stone and Sigrid says the carpet should be red. Tilda would've preferred purple, but her sister was better at matching colours than she was.

Snapping back to reality, Tilda had finished fixing the small money pouch and threw it on the pile of finished works. It landed right on top of the pile, and Tilda silently celebrated. She moved onto the next thing she had to work on. An old skirt that had definitely seen better days.

The skirt had been cleaned, but some stubborn specks of dirt still clung to it. The hem was frayed and the waist of it had lost it's elasticity. It couldn't hold onto a woman's hips as well as it could've, but Tilda was sure she could turn it into a poncho. Picking up her needle, she pulled a piece of maroon thread through the eye of the needle and set to work.

"Do you have any new adventures planned?"
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