Frodo Baggins (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
iorhael) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
exsiliumlogs2012-11-08 09:28 pm
iorhael) wrote in exsiliumlogs2012-11-08 09:28 pm
Intro log - [OPEN]
Date & Time: 11/8, Evening
Location: INITIATIVE HOLD
Characters: Frodo Baggins & you!
Summary: Frodo sits down, has what Bilbo would call a Good Think, and finds it doesn't help any at all this time
Warnings: None
Cloak tugged about him, Frodo finally sat upon a pair of steps. In his hands lay the strange parchment, the one the woman had called a tablet.
It was certainly a lot to take in, and Frodo was certain that he hadn't actually gotten it all in fact. United Earth, the Initiative, weapons that might think or speak. It was hard to believe any of it. It was harder to believe this wasn't a dream. It seemed he had only just settled down with the others in the Golden Wood. Aragorn had gone to sleep earlier, with that skill and ease it seemed only Rangers and Elves had, and the rest of them sorely needed. It had taken a good deal longer, but he must have dozed off sometime after the others. This seemed, Frodo thought uncomfortably, much too real for any sort of dream. How did one walk right into their company, and carry him off in the first place? How had he not awoken at all during it?
Frodo smoothed out the tablet. The surface felt even and sleek, like glass, and was too thick to be parchment, and too thin and flexible for a book. The surface rippled under his fingers. Frodo removed his hand from it quickly.
Gandalf. Gandalf would know what to do if he-
Frodo's mind turned hastily to Gollum, for the grief was too fresh and the hurt too deep. Anything else. It was unlikely that Gollum would come into the heart of Lothlorien. And if the woman was telling the truth, Frodo was now very far from Middle-Earth. Much further than any hobbit or Man or Elf could imagine. He needn't worry about him for the moment, yet Frodo found himself wondering what he was up to all the same. A thin, white shape, ghostly and fast. Prowling around the borders, hoping to catch them on the way out? Was he dipping his hands into the once clean streams? It was hard not to think of him as such a loathsome creature; Frodo had spent a good many nights listening to Bilbo's stories, and what his description didn't manage, the hobbit's imagination had been more than up to the task. He seemed foul, repulsive, monstrous... pitiful. But determined. After all, he had followed them from within Moria itself, and before that, from Mordor, coming at last to the Golden Wood; orcs and the Shadow and Flame would not deter him from what he hunted for. If Frodo managed to find his way back, there was no doubt that something must be done about the creature. He wished he knew what. Above all, he wished Gandalf were here.
Location: INITIATIVE HOLD
Characters: Frodo Baggins & you!
Summary: Frodo sits down, has what Bilbo would call a Good Think, and finds it doesn't help any at all this time
Warnings: None
Cloak tugged about him, Frodo finally sat upon a pair of steps. In his hands lay the strange parchment, the one the woman had called a tablet.
It was certainly a lot to take in, and Frodo was certain that he hadn't actually gotten it all in fact. United Earth, the Initiative, weapons that might think or speak. It was hard to believe any of it. It was harder to believe this wasn't a dream. It seemed he had only just settled down with the others in the Golden Wood. Aragorn had gone to sleep earlier, with that skill and ease it seemed only Rangers and Elves had, and the rest of them sorely needed. It had taken a good deal longer, but he must have dozed off sometime after the others. This seemed, Frodo thought uncomfortably, much too real for any sort of dream. How did one walk right into their company, and carry him off in the first place? How had he not awoken at all during it?
Frodo smoothed out the tablet. The surface felt even and sleek, like glass, and was too thick to be parchment, and too thin and flexible for a book. The surface rippled under his fingers. Frodo removed his hand from it quickly.
Gandalf. Gandalf would know what to do if he-
Frodo's mind turned hastily to Gollum, for the grief was too fresh and the hurt too deep. Anything else. It was unlikely that Gollum would come into the heart of Lothlorien. And if the woman was telling the truth, Frodo was now very far from Middle-Earth. Much further than any hobbit or Man or Elf could imagine. He needn't worry about him for the moment, yet Frodo found himself wondering what he was up to all the same. A thin, white shape, ghostly and fast. Prowling around the borders, hoping to catch them on the way out? Was he dipping his hands into the once clean streams? It was hard not to think of him as such a loathsome creature; Frodo had spent a good many nights listening to Bilbo's stories, and what his description didn't manage, the hobbit's imagination had been more than up to the task. He seemed foul, repulsive, monstrous... pitiful. But determined. After all, he had followed them from within Moria itself, and before that, from Mordor, coming at last to the Golden Wood; orcs and the Shadow and Flame would not deter him from what he hunted for. If Frodo managed to find his way back, there was no doubt that something must be done about the creature. He wished he knew what. Above all, he wished Gandalf were here.
no subject
It certainly didn't comfort him any to hear the Man call the dog the very thing he was worried that it was so close to or to hear "fairly" and not "completely" in front of "harmless". Frodo warily eyed the dog. It had the most piercing eyes that he had seen from any animal. "He is fine where he is for the moment."
To try and get his mind off it, he looked towards the ball that had come in after. "And that, is that harmless as well?"
no subject
Wolf shuffled his front paws somewhat impatiently but stayed his ground, looking between the hobbit and Conner. He seemed to understand a good chunk of the conversation yet at the same time he wanted to go over to Frodo, sniff him, maybe even tease him a bit with some playful nudging. Of course once he knew for himself that the small hobbit wasn't a threat to any of them, Conner especially. Though judging by how small and timid the hobbit was ... he posed no real threat.
"And me?" Conner fixed Frodo with ice-blue eyes, not a hard or cold look. Curious. Maybe even amused.
no subject
The dog remained surprisingly well-behaved, only watching them both with a keen intelligence. Frodo looked back to the Man, who was himself, he thought, one of the younger Big Folk, but already quite big and strong, the sort that one could believe went off to war. His eyes too were a cold blue, something that Frodo would have only imagined from the far North.
"I hope you are," Frodo said, yet something in him wanted to say that he needn't place it all on hope. After a moment, he said more firmly. "I think you are. Had you been a malicious sort, you might have let loose the dog on me for sport and laughed about it during."
no subject
The closer he got the more Conner saw for himself just how small of a human the hobbit was. His brows lifted as he looked down at him. "What's your name?"
no subject
"Thank you, I suppose," a hint of dryness had crept into Frodo's voice. It was not very comforting to know that one's distance between the dog, its teeth and himself hinged on whether the lad thought he was a bad person. Frodo, when he imagined these sorts, imagined orcs and goblins, wolves and wargs. He liked to think that he wasn't a bad sort, or even just ill-tempered - at least, he hoped so, that he could be the sort of hobbit that would do Bilbo proud. But for all the Man knew, he could be just as pleasant as the SBs.
'My name is Frodo. And what sort are you exactly?"