exsilium | o2 ✍ sharpe's distractions ✍ video

o2 ✍ sharpe's distractions ✍ video

[ The video opens to a pair of hands. Hands, paper, and a line of tobacco. A cigarette being rolled before the camera is tipped upwards and Sharpe comes into view. He drags a hand through his hair, which is more than slightly wet by the rain. It's obvious after a while that he's outside, sitting below the awning of one of the houses in the Hold. His rifle, leaning against his shoulder, is completely dry.

He takes out a lighter and snaps it on, lighting the homemade cigarette and taking a drag. ]

Convenient things, these. [ Tosses the lighter up, and catches it again. ] Works better than any flint. [ Pause, and he shrugs. ] But I ain't here ta talk 'bout fires.

I'm a soldier and I ain't use ta just waiting 'round here. Even travelling and sightseeing [ he grins at this, because going out to the Outlands was fun but not the kind of sightseeing and travel most gentlemen go for ] gets tiring after a while. [ He leans a bit further back against the wall. ] There any books 'round? [ Beat, then he clarifies, because his accent tends to mark him as illiterate: ] Fer reading, I mean. English'd do, but if there's something in French or Spanish, I ain't going ta say no.

[ He takes a drag of the cigarette contemplatively. ]

Stories'll do as well, if no one's got any books ta read.

[ He makes to switch off the transmission, but then he seems to remember something. Scramble, scramble, oops, ash and burnt paper on the camera, which he brushes away irritatedly. ]

Can someone explain ta me how a man and a woman can share the same house without being married or related ta each other? [ He tips his head ta the side. ] It don't say much for decency or the woman's reputation, no. [ Beaaaaaaaaaaaat. ]

And what's those noises on the thirteen floor of that damned building we've been housed in, eh?

[ This is actually Sharpe's point in making the transmission but he wants books as well. Whatever. Look, it's shut off for real now. ]

a little bit later, 10% (crappily) encrypted to morgana

[ Awkwardly: ] How fares you, milady?

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I don't know about "English" or "French" or "Spanish", but I could tell you a tale or two if you have the time.

[as for that other question, that is a good one! Though his roommates are not all male, and it does seem odd]

I don't suppose it would seem entirely decent, or at least, not expected. It could be a matter of space, or they must do things much differently on this world.

Edited 2013-01-05 06:09 (UTC)

Seems they do things different. [ He snorts quietly. ] Plenty's changed, and strange as it sounds ta me, seems women are happy ta be treated the way they are in me world.

[ A beat, and he shakes his head. ]

You seem bit smaller than most storytellers I know. [ Chuckles quietly. ] But I don't mind a story.

It does seem strange, but they have gotten it to work somehow, in their own way.

The lasses don't seem to have any complaints back where I come from.

[he really is just as puzzled, though things were crowded back in Buckland... but he didn't share a room with a lass. It's one thing t o court and flirt, another to share a room]

Height has little to do with what stories I can offer, Mr. Sharpe. Now, I have stories of elves and flying ships, dragons and dwarves, a dark Queen and her army of cats.

[ Oh good people who actually understand why it's so weird. Sharpe rubs his nose slightly. ]

Bit odd. I can't understand why women want ta be treated like men. Men are utter bastards ta each other, if you can pardon me language.

[ A sigh, and he shakes his head, leaning a bit more back against the wall. ]

Give me the one 'bout the Queen and her army of cats, then.

Maybe in some parts, but where I come from, that is only half true.

[Frodo thinks back for a moment on what he has heard of this story, bits and pieces from Bilbo, and more from Strider and Boromir]

There was once a dark Queen called Beruthiel, wedded to one of the great Kings of Men, and solitary and loveless was this marriage. The King so loved the sea that he lived next to, and she so hated it and all things his people judged beautiful.

She hated cats just as much, but it seems, as these things often do, this only drew herself a good herd of the very same. Soon, ten cats followed her, nine black and the tenth white. She made use of them as so much tools, and set the black cats to spy on her subjects, the white cat to spy on the nine other cats. Deep and twisted, slinking and pawing, they clawed out any secrets of the realm and its people. She, some say, could read the very thoughts of her cats! People soon learned to fear and despise these cats, for they were the Queen's eyes and ears. And yet, not one person dared touch them, for they were the Queen's cats.

Eventually, through this and some say, other deeds, the King sent her forth from the land, never to return. She was set sail on the very sea she hated, with the cats she hated but were her only constant company. And no one ever heard from her since.

But should you see any black cats or white cats watching you with particular interest, think back on the Dark Queen. They could very well be hers, off to report back your deepest secrets to her, in whatever dark lands the ship carried her. [and this was a new hobbit addition; a test, really]

...Well. There isn't much in the way of a good ending to that one, but one never quite forgets about Beruthiel or the cats!

Edited 2013-01-08 23:46 (UTC)

[ Nope, sorry, he's never heard of it. But he's grinning, and laughing quite a bit. ]

If that's the stories you have in yer world, la, there's a man who knows such things better than I do. His name's Dan Hagman. He's a Rifleman like me, and he's a grand one fer songs and stories.

[ He cocks his head to the side slightly. ]

And what happened ta this Dark Queen of yers? She sails, aye? So she must've landed somewhere, or her boat at least if she's lost ta sea.

I should like to hear his stories someday, if he ever comes to Exsilium. One could always use more songs and stories.

I don't know. One never knows for certain with these stories. I asked both Men I was traveling with at the time about it and only one of them had more to say about it; "some say she was last seen sailing past Umbar and of that, there is no more".

Whether she landed there or further on to dark, stranger lands or whether she was lost to sea, no one truly knows.

Edited 2013-01-09 02:48 (UTC)

Hagman's stories aren't worth him being dragged into a war fer. [ He licks his lips slightly, a nervous gesture. ] He's done enough.

[ A pause, and he chuckles lightly. ]

Sounds enough like a story ta me.

No, certainly not. And more so for him, especially, from the sound of it.

I am glad you found it enough to pass the time, Mr. Sharpe.

Edited 2013-01-09 06:57 (UTC)

Ain't just that. Good stories don't have real proper endings. Better ta have mysteries, really. [ He shrugs slightly. ]

Quite right. The best stories are ones that make you wonder what have gone on after.

[ His lips flicker upwards slightly. ]

Aye. [ Beat, and then he remembers something. ]

You know a Pippin Took, don't you?

[that takes him aback. He blinks]

I do. Have you met him?

Earlier in the day, aye. He mentioned you, and he called me by another man's name as well.

Edited (omg too much aragorn) 2013-01-11 04:06 (UTC)

[So Pippin thought the same thing he did when he first saw Sharpe on the tablet]

Boromir, wasn't it? Pippin is a cousin of mine.

Aye. Boromir's the name he called me by. [ Dry. ]

Is yer cousin taller than you?

I am afraid that you will have more of it, if more from my world come.

I was taller, but it seems he has sprouted up. [thoughtfully] Why, he must be even taller than Bullroarer Took himself.

Edited 2013-01-12 05:03 (UTC)

Well, he tells me he's a Took, so if his uncle of some sort's tall, he might as well be too. [ Shrugs. Anyway- ]

Say, do every one in yer world have those funny names?

More like a great-great-great-great-grandfather.

[have an odd look] Funny names? His full name was Bandobras "Bullroarer" Took; I see little funny about it.

In me world, people have common, easy names like Arthur, Patrick, Daniel, and Richard. [ Driest of dry. ] Or John and Peter and Thomas. Even rich bastards have simple names. Nothing as complicated or odd as yers.

I suppose it is a Big Folk thing. I knew of a Bill and a Tom at the very least, but then you have men such as Boromir, Elendil or Isildur. I imagine those of more noble comings or character tend have such names.

As for hobbits, those are about normal for a hobbit. Perfectly reasonable names.

Bill and Tom? And who are those with these reasonable names in yer world?

Bill was a unsavory sort back in one of the towns. As for Tom...

[Frodo seems to have for once found himself at a loss for words]

Well..Tom is. I suppose that is the only way one can describe him. He just is.

That Bill seems common 'nough. [ Chuckles. ] Not much so fer this 'Tom' fellow you know, it seems.

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o2 ✍ sharpe's distractions ✍ video

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