Still in Mandos. Still vaguely bitter over being turned into a hobbit smoothie. Still even MORE bitter about being a total non-canon nobody. My mun blows. Does anybody else want me?

Huh. Didn't think so.

*sulks*

It's sad when a tragedy drives folks into delusional denial. Stop fussing, woman. The initial whack over the head is the only thing I remember of my horrible untimely murder. And honestly, does anybody miss the Bracegirdles?

Anyhow, now that I've laid that bizarre rumor to rest (tripped and broke my what? do I look like a clutz?), I must say ( Read more... )

#$^&#*^$##^$*@^$#@^$#@^$(@

So this is Mandos.

Huh.

*sulks*

Well, that's not completely true. The trade route is doing a brisk business and the marketplace is a hit. However. nobody LIVES here but me. I've been putting off going to Brandybuck Hall because I've been avoiding the inevitable meeting/confrontation with my oblivious father, but as he seems to have vanished utterly ( Read more... )

Took a break from hauling furniture and clearing streets in Tharbad (whew! a job well done I must say!) to get washed up in the Greyflood. I find myself wanting to work on my swordarm, but there's nobody around to spar with except Nick, and somehow I don't quite see that working. Though I hear he wields a mean hoe ( Read more... )

In Tharbad. It's better than sitting around in a bar in Bree trying to land a guard job with a passing caravan or something. For one the roads are really safe nowadays, and for two why hire a hobbit when you can hire a human? *scowl* Speciests. I can hack off kneecaps with the best of 'em ( Read more... )

...m...my dad's dead...?

[ I have AIM now: TheoBrandybuck ]

My mother was NOT a tavern whore, Mr. Took. She was a lady who had to leave me to be raised by one of the Bree barmaids. She visited when she was able. She told me all about my father, and it had a powerful effect on me -- I spent most of my tweens looking for trouble around the borders of Buckland with a pack of my friends who fancied ourselves ( Read more... )

*steps out of the Prancing Pony, has a good long stretch, then stares as explosions thud and glow dully in the direction of Hobbiton*

I don't think those are fireworks. C'mon, pony! Someone might need pallbearers help!