(no subject)

[lastest_ringbearer]

 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.*

Comments

[lastest_ringbearer]

*Smeagol will just be leading the way to his little house on the beach, then.* We has a bed now! And a kitchen and things.

*In one corner is a little table with seashells and interesting rocks and the general detritus of someone both curious and dexterous enough to collect whatever catches his eye.*

[museicalmarty]

[Marty will take a sec to grab his clothes along the way -- though, uh, given all that splashing around in the water before, he might stay in his underwear for a little bit yet to dry out some more. Doesn't look like there's anyone around to judge! He looks around the house as they enter] I can see that! Nice place.

[he looks over the table with a nod] Got lots of cool stuff, huh?

[lastest_ringbearer]

*Smeagol is used to wearing rags, he couldn't care less what anyone else is wearing.* Yesss. It isss.

I do my best. No more Precious, we find other things that ssshine.

[museicalmarty]

Nothing like having a real house of your own, huh? I remember when we first moved into our place. That was a big day.

[he nods] Yeah. . .well, you've got a great collection going here. Those shells are really neat.

[lastest_ringbearer]

Never had our own houssse before, jussst a cave. Lived with his grandmother before the Precious came did Smeagol.

Man likeses them?

[museicalmarty]

Did you? Hey, nothing wrong with that -- I'm living with my family. No grandmothers, but I do have an uncle. . . But it really is nice to have a place all your own too.

Yeah, I do! You've got something cool going on here.

[lastest_ringbearer]

Yesss, but she threw poor Smeagol out once the Precious started having bad effectsss. Better to have no one that can throw you out, yesss.

Thank you. *He smiles slightly.*

[museicalmarty]

[that gets a wince] Oh jeez. . .yeah, that sucks. If I'd been tossed out on my ear by my family, I'd probably be happier on my own too.

[he smiles back] You're welcome!

[lastest_ringbearer]

Didn't have a choice did Smeagol. We wonder what might have happened had we ssstayed . . . but considering what the Precious wasss doing to our poor head already, praps it's bessst not to find out. Poor Deagol, poor Smeagol . . .

*He belatedly remembers about hospitality and shuffles his feet.* Sssit? We has chairs now. We likes them.

[museicalmarty]

[Marty worries his lower lip for a minute] Yeah. . .that was -- well, I don't need to tell you it was bad. You know. Still sucks, though.

[Marty nods and finds a chair] Yeah, chairs are good. I spent a lot of time on my feet in Arcadia, and -- yeah. Chairs good.

[lastest_ringbearer]

Yesss, yesss we do. Thanks for sssaying so.

Ought to have gotten a chair, nice Man. Not fair that you didn't.

[museicalmarty]

Uh, you're welcome. . .guess it's just nice to have it acknowledged it was bad?

[with a scowl] There was a lot that wasn't fair in Arcadia. Bastards there tried to warp my big dream into a nightmare. Pretty much succeeded too. . .didn't take my love of the guitar from me, though. I didn't let them get that.

[lastest_ringbearer]

*He nods.*

Making happy thingses bad? Mean of them. *He thinks a moment.* Guitar?

[museicalmarty]

[Marty nods back] Yeah, you know, I get that.

Very mean. But it's kind of the Fae way, sadly. Assholes. . . [oh, right, different world] It's something you play music on. Sort of like a -- lute? [he's assuming they have those in Middle Earth?]

[lastest_ringbearer]

*He still seems mostly confused, bu it's a start.* Like a drum? Or a harp? A flute? *Those are the only ones he can remember. Instruments are not his specialty.*

[museicalmarty]

Uh -- most like a harp out of that list, since they both have strings. But a guitar. . .honestly, maybe it's better if I pop back home for a second and get it so I can just show you.

Got a character in my head that I haven't played much, he might be fun to drop in

[lastest_ringbearer]

*He nods.* Smeagol will be here.

Ooooh, sounds interesting

[museicalmarty]

[Marty nods back] Back in a bit! [he'll head outside for a moment to PINpoint back home, then -- in fresh pants and a shirt -- he'll come back in, holding his own blue guitar up] Hey there -- so this is a guitar.

I'll try him out, then

[lastest_ringbearer]

Pretty box with stringses? Why the box?

Nice~

[museicalmarty]

Uh -- yeah, basically. And it helps make the music -- changes up the sound you get from the strings. [he strums a couple of chords to demonstrate] See?

[lastest_ringbearer]

Doesn't sssound like a harp, no. Smeagol likes it.

[museicalmarty]

[that gets a grin, and Marty plays a quick tune. He's quite skilled, not that Smeagol's likely to be able to tell] Yeah, I like it too. Been playing ever since was about -- wanna say twelve or thirteen? Cripes, gotta be at least ten years now. . .

[lastest_ringbearer]

*Smeagol looks rather bewildered.* Man is ssso young? *Even without Smeagol's own immense age, hobbits are mature at around 33; both Bilbo and Frodo were 50 when he met them.*

[museicalmarty]

Oh -- uh, yeah. Humans age at a different rate than you do. Though it's a little more complicated for me, given the whole thing with Arcadia, then living in another different universe. . .I'm definitely in my twenties now, though!

[lastest_ringbearer]

Man is young, Man is young. *He appears to be trying to fix that in his memory. Anyone so much larger than him should be older, says some part of his mind, but then he remembers how far he's been stretched.* Smeagol isss so old. Twenties sounds like babieses to usss.

We forgot about babies for a long time. And about musssic.