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Hijack thread - home to the muses

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SpriteWriter
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Posted: Tue 15 Mar , 2005 5:20 pm
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OOC - Mayhem? Did I hear someone ask for mayhem? =:)

IC – Yet another day was well on its way to having passed – the sun was high in the sky as the brown haired girl sat in front of her laptop at the university. So many things were happening, so many things were changing, so many things needed to be done... so why couldn’t she seem to find the will to deal with them all... Her eyes were on the laptop, yet slightly glazed over and unfocused while her hands were on the keyboard, yet not moving.

From a distance, another watched and sighed. Figwit looked on her with regret. “Why do you not listen to me any more Sprite? What did I do to deserve this treatment? I remember when I could just be near you and you would sense my presence. Oh the fun we had then! Do you remember the fic where we battled against Legolas and his fangirls in Rivendell? Or the story with the dark stone? The trip to Bree? What happened to it? How could this have happened?” He walked towards her and gently placed his hands on her shoulders, shaking them. Her head lolled back and forth, but her eyes remained unfocused and aimed at the screen of the laptop in front of her. A single tear escaped his eye, making its way down his face. “Why can’t you hear me?”

He looked up at the thing which seemed to have her attention and his eyes widened in horror.

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“No. That is NOT me. Do you hear me Sprite? That... THING on the screen isn’t me! NO! You are NOT going to browse the forums for that game! GAH! Nonono don’t log in, you don’t need to mod their forum right now! There’s homework piling up, you have assignments due tomorrow, you have to share the lab data with the rest of the class there’s a lecture in ten minutes... NO! Don’t edit their post! What’s the point in starring out the last three letters of ‘fuck’? They’re going to post with swearing again! The admins aren’t helping you and you don’t get paid for it... NO! DO NOT OPEN ANOTHER GAME CLIENT, OR I WILL... I will...”

“Teeheehee” :devil:

His eyes focused on the laptop in front of her that had made the chuckle which no one else seemed to have noticed.

“I know you.”

“Yes, yes you do Figwit. Why are you still fighting? She can’t hear you you know. She can’t hear anything that the people around her say. She’s tuned out, tunnel-visioned into me, into real-life. But here’s the best part. Who says what’s real and what’s not? Me. I tell her what she sees, I dictate what she can or cannot do. Have you noticed her lack of computer problems lately? That’s because she finally gave up on those silly Tolkien related sites. When was the last time she browsed a Tolkien forum? When was the last time she wrote something for a RP? She hasn’t watched LOTR since ROTK came out on dvd. She hasn’t touched a book with real pages in close to eight months.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“NO.”

“You know I’m right. I’m always right. And there’s nothing that you or anyone else can do about it either! Now be a good elf and fade away to Mando-land or wherever it is that you disappear to and we’ll both be content. I’m sure you’ll have lots of company there...”

“I will not permit you to do this to her.”

“Permit? There’s no permit about it. You have no control here elf. Can’t you see? It’s already done – the spell is complete and there’s no breaking it now.”

Figwit turned on his heel and stalked away.

“That’s it! Glad you’ve realized it’s futile...”

He came back in with a large piece of canvas and rope in his hands, a grey elven horse following behind.

“What do you think you are doing?” It demanded as he threw the cloth over her head and pried her fingers from the keys.

Figwit picked up the unresisting human, now wrapped in canvas like a big parcel and put her over the horse’s back. “What I should have done months ago,” the elf replied, finishing up the last knots binding his ‘package’ to the horse. “I’m getting outside help.” With those words, he walked out of the room with the elven horse following after.

------------------------------------------------

A few days later the elf walked into the area the muses had taken over.

“Anyone here know how to deal with a really bad case of real-life?” he shouted, trying to be heard over the roar of the bull dozer.


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peeg
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Posted: Sat 19 Mar , 2005 3:37 pm
You Tolkien to me?
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(OOC: Are you sure giving us free reign is a good idea, Aladnriel? =:))

Night came fast in the home of the muses. An uncanny wind blew in from the south, bringing with it the scent and smell of a fast-approaching thunderstorm. Within the tent Eoden had hastily managed to erect again, an odd group of friends and foes, both old and new, held court.

"Figwit, i can't believe you. You brought you're human with you? And she didn't resist? This sounds serious."

A worried Legyviel was trying to calm the frantic Figwit, while Jae handed the poor elf a strong cup of tea shot with whiskey. Figwit looked like he was on the end of his tether, his eyelids struggling to stay up and his hair disheveled. Not far away, his canvas-wrapped human ("Sprite") has struggled to sit up in her binding. They could hear a faint clicking and tap-tapping coming from within.

In the opposite corner of the tent sat Arunakhor, silent and brooding and sullen in the strange company gathered before him. To his consternation and surprise, the petulant witch-child Alaine had comfortably curled up at his feet and was grinning up at him. Despite their earlier disagreement, she seemed to have taken a liking to him and taken to shadowing his steps. He glared at her and shifted uncomfortably.

"Haven't ye anywhere else to be?" he growled, dark brows drawing together forbiddingly. She shook her head, shrugged, and curled up into a tighter ball, looking for all the world like a cat.

In the centre of the tent, Alandriel sat at a small table with Nin and Kaya, the three of them warming their hands on her cups of tea and talking quietly together. Having calmed Figwit down and told him to rest, Jae and Legyviel joined them and the five sat silent for a while, simply delighting in each other's company. A crash of thunder overhead shook the tent and its occupants jumped despite themselves; soon the rain would come pouring down in sheets of water. Legyviel looked up, her clear blue eyes seemingly penetrating the sheer silk of the tent.

"It's not looking good. Perhaps i should spin a shield...." she murmured. Alandriel shook her head, smiling wryly.

"Eoden assured me that he 'had it all under control' and who am i to get between a rider and his crazy ideas? He's got Bréhon out there helping him right now," she said. At the mention of Bréhon's name, Jae's eyes lit up and a smile tugged at her lips.

"Bré is here? Why did i not see him?" she asked eagerly. Kaya smiled at her spoke up.

"Forgive me Jae, but i had some things to discuss with him and Arunakhor. He was with us till dusk, when Eoden claimed him," she said, leaning back in her chair. Her smile faltered as she remembered the nature of their conversation.

"This writer business is getting out of hand. How long since they last cared to visit us? I grow tired of waiting and she does not seem to care," the elf sighed. Around her, her companions exchanged looks of similair frusteration and nodded in agreement.

"She has set me a hard task by sending him with me...i fear i do not have power to control him if there is trouble," Nin spoke, her beautiful face furrowed with worry. A tense silence followed this statement, then, as one turned to look at the farthest corner of the tent, which suddenly didn't seem far enough. A dark figure swathed in a long cloak stood silent and still, his face hidden behind the hood of his cloak. Beside him stood a figure they all recognised.....

"Eari's found an old friend," Legyviel said, no trace of humor in her voice. The others looked troubled, but there didn't seem to be any problems just yet.

Besides, there was a commotion just then at the entrance and two bedraggled, soaking riders tumbled in.

_________________

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"You can think and you can fight, but the world's always moving and if you wanna stay ahead you gotta dance"
~Terry Pratchett


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