bilbo baggins (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
experting) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
dysproslogs2013-05-17 05:02 pm
experting) wrote in dysproslogs2013-05-17 05:02 pm
Entry tags:
all of these lines across my face
Who: Bilbo Baggins {experting} & Aragorn {instride}
What: Missioning; Liangyu's Request to be specific. Takes place afterwards thoughcause not godmoding that fjdkf; MOSTLY JUST middle earth bonding and swapping stories in the wake of their cultural lesson. Bro time, yo.
When: Uh. Is this meant to have a specific day? Otherwise, few days post Ossidia's Request mission with middle earth bros.
Where: Steelarm? Walking... away from Steelarm?
Rating: PG because it's Bilbo and Aragorn. C'mon.i give up on lyrics
[ Interesting, that's what it'd been. And quite pleasant, yes. Of course, he is without a firm understanding of, well, much of anything in this place and hearing of a culture altogether foreign to him, is... trying, but he had. Tried, that is. He'd listened and waited and made mental notes through the eager babble, all the while having cursed himself silently for not having brought a slip of parchment to scribble on. Even now, his hands are itching to get ahold of something, to make record of it, because if they're meant to remain here, for however long that'll be, they might as well keep notes, right? Bah, either way, it's fine; he remembers enough of it and if he should forget something that could, in the unlikely event, become important, he can simply ask... – well...
Shifting a sideways glance higher, he peeks at his companion and then looks forward again. He's been spending far too much time in the company of royalty; him, a simple hobbit of the Shire, knowing princes, kings, and he's never dressed properly or looking anywhere half decent. His vest still needs buttons and sleeping in that dreadful place of his temporary home is doing nothing for his complexion; he's certain he wakes up with dust and dirt smudges, everything from the sheets to the air tainted with something particularly unclean. Unclean, heh. Not that... Aragorn is as put together as books and stories often portray those of such rank but...
Oh dear. He doesn't mean that.
The only hindrances to Aragorn's regality are torn threads and dirty leather, and for a little someone who only has one brass button left to his name, there isn't any room for him to be making judgments. Aragorn has been nothing but kind with understanding and quiet authority, the type that calls for immediate respect. Here, they'd met by chance here at Steelarm and Aragorn had immediately joined him at his side, requesting to keep company while visiting Liangyu. That ready acceptance of an outsider, of anyone really, is something to be admired after the range of hoops he'd been coerced into jumping through the last time he made unhobbity friends. He smiles nonetheless, and picks up his pace to match Aragorn's already slowed strides; and with that, he begins. ]
Quite a reward for visiting, hm? [ The three-hundred copper coins in his pocket are nothing to turn one's nose up at; more than half of what they'd acquired after hunting a few... creatures. ] If we're meant to do many more of these--... requests? Yes, more of these requests, I do hope they're more of the listening kind than the... collecting. [ Killing, actually. He wouldn't mind collecting simple things such as food or flowers or otherwise harmless things, but body parts... – he wrinkles his nose on that and huffs quietly, before smoothing out his expression once more with a firm, following nod. ]
experting} & Aragorn {instride}What: Missioning; Liangyu's Request to be specific. Takes place afterwards though
When: Uh. Is this meant to have a specific day? Otherwise, few days post Ossidia's Request mission with middle earth bros.
Where: Steelarm? Walking... away from Steelarm?
Rating: PG because it's Bilbo and Aragorn. C'mon.
[ Interesting, that's what it'd been. And quite pleasant, yes. Of course, he is without a firm understanding of, well, much of anything in this place and hearing of a culture altogether foreign to him, is... trying, but he had. Tried, that is. He'd listened and waited and made mental notes through the eager babble, all the while having cursed himself silently for not having brought a slip of parchment to scribble on. Even now, his hands are itching to get ahold of something, to make record of it, because if they're meant to remain here, for however long that'll be, they might as well keep notes, right? Bah, either way, it's fine; he remembers enough of it and if he should forget something that could, in the unlikely event, become important, he can simply ask... – well...
Shifting a sideways glance higher, he peeks at his companion and then looks forward again. He's been spending far too much time in the company of royalty; him, a simple hobbit of the Shire, knowing princes, kings, and he's never dressed properly or looking anywhere half decent. His vest still needs buttons and sleeping in that dreadful place of his temporary home is doing nothing for his complexion; he's certain he wakes up with dust and dirt smudges, everything from the sheets to the air tainted with something particularly unclean. Unclean, heh. Not that... Aragorn is as put together as books and stories often portray those of such rank but...
Oh dear. He doesn't mean that.
The only hindrances to Aragorn's regality are torn threads and dirty leather, and for a little someone who only has one brass button left to his name, there isn't any room for him to be making judgments. Aragorn has been nothing but kind with understanding and quiet authority, the type that calls for immediate respect. Here, they'd met by chance here at Steelarm and Aragorn had immediately joined him at his side, requesting to keep company while visiting Liangyu. That ready acceptance of an outsider, of anyone really, is something to be admired after the range of hoops he'd been coerced into jumping through the last time he made unhobbity friends. He smiles nonetheless, and picks up his pace to match Aragorn's already slowed strides; and with that, he begins. ]
Quite a reward for visiting, hm? [ The three-hundred copper coins in his pocket are nothing to turn one's nose up at; more than half of what they'd acquired after hunting a few... creatures. ] If we're meant to do many more of these--... requests? Yes, more of these requests, I do hope they're more of the listening kind than the... collecting. [ Killing, actually. He wouldn't mind collecting simple things such as food or flowers or otherwise harmless things, but body parts... – he wrinkles his nose on that and huffs quietly, before smoothing out his expression once more with a firm, following nod. ]
I'M NOT STUPID CONTRARY TO POPULAR BELIEF 8| OR YOURS ANYWAY!
[As kind as the ranger genuinely is, it isn't sympathy he offers here; it's truth, plain and simple, and whether Bilbo fully realizes what he's made of, there's no denying the strength that emanates from him underneath the many layers of uncertainty that seems to plague him. He doubts himself, and it's a territory Aragorn knows all too well. He understands, really. One's might may lay dormant for quite a while before emerging, but it is always there, only waiting for an opportunity to come forth. Bilbo will find his own in due time, and Aragorn acknowledges his obstinacy with a slight nod, his smile fading into a polite, pleasant expression.]
Danger is rarely sought after, Master Hobbit. [Anticipated, yes, but never pursued. Only fools chase after it, and Bilbo is no lout. He tilts his head towards him, considering him.] But it has a mind of its own, finding you when you least expect it. [No matter how hard one tries to avoid it. No one's immune, no one is safe, and if Aragorn doesn't know all the exploits the hobbit's accomplished, he knows enough to claim that he's lived, even through darker days.
He averts his gaze for a brief moment of silence, face upward; the sun's crested the sky and he absentmindedly wonders if his people back home can gaze upon the same sight. It causes his brow to twitch and the corner of his lips to twist, and he blinks to keep his eyes from growing dim. It is no time for desolation and he forces a light breath out of his nose, shaking his head in amused reassurance.] You have faced it many times, with great courage. [His gaze falls upon him, fully, and there's not a single sign of doubt in his expression.] Your tales will not be forgotten.