The muse has been awoken, loud and clear. Writer’s block, over! You’ll see a few updates from me coming up, including a lot of explanation for Leuedai and a great little piece from everyone. For now, I just was inspired with another installment of “Questions” for you all! We all think before we drift off to sleep, and often we’ll tally lists or think about our day. Every question here is unlabeled, and not prefaced. Enjoy this tiny snippet into everyone’s innermost consciousness.
…Oh, and potatoes and celery, and flowers…
I… tomorrow. I’ll… tell tomorrow. I can’t believe it.
Fold it up, then down, then stretch and twist. Up, then down, stretch and twist…
Will I ever get back? I’m broken.
…Shipment, tomorrow, noontimes. Bake pie…blueberry. No, not ripe. Blackberry. Yes…
Tegil, still silently suffering from Stockholm Syndrome, has run away with the equally smitten Willow. The impetuous 19 year olds are on the hideout from almost everyone: Ceswyn, who Tegil has left abandoned and apparently pregnant through divine intervention; Ceswyn’s family, who will probably kill him despite this “miracle” not being his fault; and Cragg, who so wants them both dead on principal alone. They are hiding out – shhhhh! – in the Shire. They may already be married, no one is certain.
My love, I’m so sorry for being a fool this past near-year. I am going to give up wood carving completely, sell the house and workshop, and we’re going to move back to my family’s farmhouse. We’re going to have as many children as we physically can, and then adopt a few Hobbits. I’m already learning how to cook! Also, please take this bundle of pants to the jail for Arion to pass out to the less fortunate; I’m only wearing dresses now. And I’ll never speak again unless spoken to. I apologize for not being a better wife sooner.
In Korre’s now-permanent absence due to elopement, Leuedai has taken upon herself those duties left behind. Her lack of reading and writing was apparently a ruse: Leuedai is actually Rohan’s first fully fluent scholar. She speaks eight languages, including two variants of the ever-controversial Quenya, and is most concerned with the industrialization of the world as a whole. In fact, her thesis – written on fifty handmade parchments with homemade chalk – was on steam power and how the War could be won using it. She has also taken a new vow of celibacy and has become a teetotaler: she cannot let such distractions get in the way of her duties.
Skyrah has taken up a new profession: lumberjack. She may be spindly, but her height helps with chopping down branches! While spending her nights at a campfire for a reason unbeknownst to all but two people, she has been doing pushups and other various strength-building exercises. She’s taken up with the Combe Lumber Yard, much to the chagrin of her family (who lives in Combe and disowned her). Overalls are now her favorite clothing, because of the convenient pockets.
This is entirely her fault. Oh, and I make no apologies for the fact that this damn well may end up all the same artist. Their lyricist is a god among poets, horrible English aside.
In total honesty… it’s truly Tegil’s fault. I didn’t even consider doing a post…until I was listening to my play list when this rarely played song came on random. I almost cried. It’s perfect. Lyrics are subtitles, so I apologize if they’re not too readable. I felt the song deserved a higher quality of sound over readability. You can find them here as well.
Song speaks for itself, I think. Lyrics here, if you would like to read them more easily.
This song perfectly explains how she feels about herself in relation to chillins. Just wonderful. Nice song, too!
Some of the imagery in here really spoke to me. Particularly the wolf and lamb part. Lyrics, if necessary.
We all think before we drift off to sleep, and often we’ll tally lists or think about our day. Every thought here is unlabeled, and not prefaced. Enjoy this tiny snippet into everyone’s innermost consciousness.
Please let me sleep tonight…
What am I doing?
Tomorrow. I’ll start tomorrow, I promise.
I have never wanted to break a promise so badly in my life.
…They’re not bad people.
Third time’s the charm, and it’s all still her fault! Okay, this one turned out shorter than expected. The reason for this? Well, frankly, the last part (incoming soon!) is freakin’ long. It involves four characters (two scenes) and they both blend into each other very well. It would be really crappy to break them up. Expect super long fun from Minas Tirith proper with Part Four. Maybe coming tonight, maybe not. In the meantime, enjoy some Lori.
“So, do ya think you’ll be a’righ’ to pull it off?”
Loriwen raised an eyebrow at the man across the table and leaned back in her chair. A foot went up on the table for support when she realized she didn’t wear a dress today. “Pull it off? They’re just bee hives, Eddie.”
Brown hair and deep brown eyes shifted as he shrugged. “They can git real complex iffen ya don’t do it right.” His sentence hung in the air – that unspoken continuation of his sentence, one very few people willingly put voice to – at least not in front of her. And you’re a woman.
She rolled her eyes and let the chair fall back down to the stone floor with a thud. Golden-red hair swung freely and green-blue eyes stared at him, hard. “You wanted one of the best woodworkers in town, you asked around, and you got me. You want me to take the job or not? It’s an easy one.”
There was pride there – that much was clear. His jaw set a little, much to Lori’s delight; he ended up nodding. “A’righ’. When’dya think you’ll be havin’ ‘em ready?”
Her eyes didn’t lose their intense stare, but she did grin happily. “Well, that depends on how fast you want them.” Let the negotiations begin. She did love negotiating with jerks.
New prompt! Oddly enough, the name was inspired by a line in RP that I typed out tonight (okay, it is the line). I was struck by it, and I may elucidate further on that in another post. Anyway, the meme is called “What Lurks Beneath the Unspoken.” While we all have relatively verbose characters (most of them, anyway) they still have layers of depth to both their personalities and what they say – or in this case, what they don’t say. This is a short exercise in the second of those. I’m taking a line each of my characters have said recently, and then in italics below, pointing out the unspoken subtext.
You know I’m not going to sleep half the time until you’re back in my arms.
“I’m jus’ tired. I’m fine. How’s yer apple boy?”
You and I both know I’m wearing myself into the ground, but I have proof. You’ve seen it. I can’t give up now.
“Everything will be all right.”
It will, for you. I’m withering but I will linger for you. Please find happiness.
A stolen kiss or two will sustain us both for now. For now.
“I hate that cheese.”
We both know Butterbur began replacing the cheddar with Bree-brie within the first week of his noting I was giving it away.
The servers are still down and I’m itching for some creative stuff. Another installment of “Questions” for you all! We all think before we drift off to sleep, and often we’ll tally lists or think about our day. Every question here is unlabeled, and not prefaced. Enjoy this tiny snippet into everyone’s innermost consciousness.
I do love work. How can I ever give that up?
It’s worth it. Right? What if I get hurt?
Why did I come out here again? This is less and less something I want.
Have I found my primrose?
Will anyone ever be able to replace you? Do I really want to find someone who would?