reality_crossroads | (no subject)

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The cold hard lands, they bites our hands, they gnaws our feet! The rocks and stones are like old bones, all bare of meat! *Here he pauses: the possible options he's come up with, over the years, for continuing require that he either rhyme 'feet' with itself or use the word 'fish' for two lines in a row. Despite his (admittedly small) ambitions Smeagol is not an especially good poet, nor does he have a wide range of topics to choose from.

*Thus he's going with his usual non-solution to problems he can't deal with, which is to splash at the water while hissing and muttering to himself. Happily he's discovered swim trunks; his old clothes were a nightmare and have been relegated to the rag pile.*

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We think we will. Smeagol hasss found a few pretty oneses for our new home. *He studies the shell for a moment, then lets it go again.* Found one of that kind already.

[he grins] Awesome. All settled into the new place then?

We isss, Precious! Bedses are nice.

Oh yeah -- there's no beating a proper bed. Must be miles better than what you used to have.

*Flatly.* It was rockses, ssso yesss.

. . .right. Kind of a dumb thing to say, wasn't that? [he shakes his head] But hey, nobody can say you haven't moved up in the world now.

Praps a bit. *Slow blink. Moved up in the world?* Of course, we're not in a cave. The sssurface isss up.

Mmmm. [he blinks back] Well, yeah -- and you've got real clothes and an actual bed and all that. That's what I meant by "up" -- you're doing way better than you were.

Oh, now we sssee. Up was mossstly bad for poor Smeagol. The Yellow Face and the Ssstraight Ssstair and Wraiths on wingses. Never did any good come of having to look up. But if the nice Man likeses up, then things have indeed gone that way.

[Marty grimaces] I see, yeah. . .well, now "up" seems to be working better for you. Nexus is nice like that sometimes.

Good, Smeagol was ssstarting to get sssick of down.

Heh, yeah, I can bet. Folks been treating you right?

Oh yesss, they've been very kind to poor Smeagol. Helped me get a bed and sssuch. Better than we've known in a long time, Precious.

People here can be really nice, yeah. When I first arrived, there were a couple of people willing to show me the ropes -- and one even reunited me with Doc! So that was awesome.

Can't think of anyone we'd like to meet from home. Smeagol misses Deagol, but he remembers how that ended, and our time with Master Frodo didn't end much better. No, there are no friendses for Smeagol. No friends, no . . . *He gives Marty an exaggeratedly pitiful look, like a dog denied a treat. It's one of his main survival skills, not that it takes much to make him look pathetic. Five hundred years alone did most of the work for him.* Will nice Man be Smeagol's friend?

[Marty's answering look is a little "dude, you don't have to pull the pitiful look on me, I get it," but other than that it's perfectly friendly] Yeah, sure. I'd be happy to be your friend.

*He's so used to having to beg for things that it's kind of automatic. Someone actually being his friend, though? That's new.* Friendses, Precious? Don't believe it, my love. Want to believe it, Smeagol does. Don't be sssilly. Smeagol will be a good friend, yesss he will.

[Yeah, that's fair enough -- he's been through a lot with a lot of nasty people] I do mean it, I promise. And I'll do my best to be a good friend to you too!

*His smile is slightly mischievous, but mainly heartfelt.* Smeagol will do his best, in ssspite of Gollum. Don't give usss that, we can manage allieses at leassst. Not long you didn't. Husssh, you, he can hear usss.

*He turns back to Marty.* Friendses it is, yes. Real ones, for as long as the Man likeses.

[Marty lets Smeagol finish his argument with himself -- seems best not to interrupt that -- then nods] Sounds great to me. Maybe I can help you find some more shells?

Ooh, shellses it is then! Smeagol likes the shells.

Awesome! Let's see. . . [He doubts he can dive as deep or hold his breath as long as Smeagol can, but he can at least take a quick plunge and grab a handful of sand, rocks, and shells from the bottom before coming back up with a gasp to sort it all]

*Smeagol's ability to swim is downright uncanny, but he appreciates the attempt.* Ooh, thisss kind is new! Nice Man it isss for trying.

[Marty's just doing his best!] Great! I was hoping I'd get something good. Don't think I see as well underwater as you do.

Don't think many can. We couldn't either, in the long-ago before the Preciousss . . . *He picks up the new shell and slips it into a pocket.* Jussst us and the fish can see properly in dark waterses. Good skill for Smeagolses, not so much for other peoples.