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I don't suppose there are many hobbits here. Or any for that matter.

[ He still hates this tab… let thing; technology, what… is that? Either way, he's seated somewhere that's quaint and small and unassuming – his bedroom perhaps? - and there, he's staring down at the tiny camera, fingers fiddling at the hard backing of the device. ]

We're hardly a thing to notice, unless you're looking down, far down, but there isn't much sense in watching one's feet while going. Quite a few of you know that well, hm? [ He hasn't been bumped into as much lately, but that first day in the courtyard… – You guys know who you are.

Clears his throat now, lips pursing, then twisting, then flattening through a shuffle of expressions that border on excessive. At least he's seated and his hands are busy rapping, otherwise he'd have straightened his neck scarf, vest and jacket twice as of now. ] I meant to ask… – I believe a mistake's been made with my being brought here, for hobbits are not well-suited for… whatever business this is. We know gardening and eating and smoking the finest… – [ A pause. Right. The topic is making a wide arching turn to the left and he really ought to bring it back. So. Ahem. ] … But I've noticed there's a, ah, variety of… types here. I've never been quite as well informed when following the relations of you bigger folk, so…………… how is everyone making along? Are – ah, I suppose it would be we – … are we all amongst agreeable company?

[ aka do dwarves hate elves or elves hate men or men hate everyone here too? Because being bffs and singing kumbaya in horrid surroundings sounds so much better. ]

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[babydoll had only heard of hobbits in fairy tales her mother read to her, or stories she had read to her little sister. apparently, they were as real as any human.]

It's not a mistake, everything's at random. You don't have to fight if you don't want to.

[she feels a little bad for people who don't have any practice with defense suddenly picked up by the transporter.]

Most of us get along, yes.

[ He hadn't been contracted to be a fighter on his last quest either and yet— ]

I've found that, when the time comes, whether I've chosen to fight or not, I find myself with a sword in hand. [ Or a letter-opener. He smiles faintly at the thought, but there's still something quite dismal in his tone. ] So I think, even though I would rather stay far from seeing any battle, I have this truly unfortunate luck of becoming involved.

[babydoll can't help but feel interested in bilbo's outlook on things. it's slightly similar to hers, even if she enjoys to fight in order to protect the people who can't.]

Good luck, then.

[a beat,]

If you want to train at all, I can help you.

[she knows it's required, anyway, but sometimes it's nicer to have someone to talk to and really see what they want to do with their weapon instead of a person that just wants you to keep going until you can't. it's more fun when there's better communication.]

A pity you did not arrive earlier; you have missed Master Baggins by some months and his companions by longer still.

[She has no idea why this is likely to get confusing. She's only heard of a few hobbits, but it would be silly to assume that the ones that arrived her are the same ones she's heard of. Right?]

[ Okay. What? ]

[ It's odd, perhaps, maybe – though probably not after everything he's been through – to hear the familiar syllables of his surname from someone he is quite sure he's never met. Especially when his face isn't associated with the name...? Squinting, yes, he's squinting in an exaggerated expression of utter confusion. ]

… Ah. I don't believe I have missed anyone, because Baggins would be--... [ Flattens lips for a prolonged pause and shrugs his shoulders. ] … me.

[Oh! He may wear an expression of confusion, but he's cleared a few things up for her.]

You are Bilbo Baggins, then. [Still wearing that companionable smile] I am acquainted with one of your younger relatives- a Frodo Baggins.

[Oh. Oh! A hobbit, Celebrian's had good experiences with hobbits... A hobbit. Close enough.

She turns on the video function of her own tablet, silver hair pulled back into a braid to keep it out of her face while she mends a dress. Behind her is a painting, a place that should be familiar to Bilbo.

She gives the burglar a smile, quickly finishing her sewing before setting it aside.]

There was a young hobbit here some months ago, Pippin Took if I recall right. [She does.]

I find that many people here are agreeable, it really depends on who you enjoy keeping company with.

[ Pippin Took? Took? He doesn't recognize the first part, but the second... – he likes to think he's aware, that he has a well-informed understanding of his sheltered community, but maybe he's lost track of the whos. Pippin Took? Hm... ]

A Took is more suited for... well, here than a Baggins, I suppose. I cannot say I've heard of a Pip—

[ Wait. ]

[ He abruptly pauses, narrows his gaze and leans to the side, as though to get a better angle, even though it isn't he who needs to move to reveal more of that painting.

That painting of the Shire. ]

Is that... [ Brows tightly knit now and yes, he's as flabbergasted as his expression shows. ] … How did you come by that?

Perhaps but he seemed quite young. Though I know little of hobbits.

[Even after having met and spoken with Pippin on a couple occasions. The onesthat come to memory quickest were, well, the ones regarding the painting that Bilbo is drawing her attention to now.]

Hm? I painted it. Pippin asked it of me, a piece of home in a faraway place. He was sent back before I could give it to him, I fear.

[She pauses for a moment and gives it a careful look before sighing softly.] I'm still not sure if I have it right, I meant to ask him of a few other details.

Pippin left a while ago. [ How peculiar, though; Pippin told her while hobbits were quiet folk he and his companions had been involved in war. ] Whether you help or not is your choice, too.

[ Is it? Is it really? ]

Last time I'd hardly been given a choice— [ Before dwarves bombarded his home and devoured his pantry and ruined his plumbing. ] —but there'd been a contract to sign. I have not provided a signature to anything as of yet and still, I find myself on another... another... [ Nasty, disturbing— ] … uncomfortable adventure.

[ Exhale. ]

… I am still here whether I help or not, so what choice is that?

[ She'll switch then, though she rarely does. ]

The Initiative's methods are wrong, I know. But whatever you choose to do here is ultimately your decision.

I knew a hobbit here, but he's gone now. He was kind and good at bein' quiet. He was helpin' with me letters.

[She grins fondly for a moment.]

I've not met my enemies here, but most o' us get along well enough.

[ Stuck on video because, again, hobbits and technology. In fact, he thinks there's something he's done wrong to not produce an image with the voice and so, here he is, poking at his tablet, frown deepening as his poking turns into nudging which turn into jabbing. ]

Was he? [ Image? Where' the image? ] Have you resumed your lessons with some one new? [ Because letters are important and well— ] It's best to keep on something like that, even if the one helping isn't... helping any longer.

[ Makes sense. ]

[She hasn't a clue as to why he's poking at the screen, but she barely has a grasp on technology as is.]

I've a few helping me, though he was the best. Slow and kind, and he liked showin' me Elvish letters. All the fancy script.

I've seen a hobbit during me time here. Small 'nough ta be knock over by me knee, aren't you?

[ He's not being rude, and Sharpe is leaning forward, a crooked smile on his lips. ]

There're bastards and arseholes and such all 'round, same as any place. [ Shrugs. ] You've got ta decide which one's which yerself. Don't think no one's good at helping you with that.

[ Hey. He is not that small... unless Sharpe is exceptionally tall, which okay, that's frightening to think of, because you big folk are already too, well, big. Still; he eyes the other with a slightly narrowed gaze, lips pressing tighter together at that language, but— ]

We hobbits are sturdier than that. [ Tablet resting on his thighs, he... yes, he's actually fallen to fiddling habit and he brushes something off his jacket, only to cross his arms and there, tap his fingers against his opposite arms. ] We do not have these large feet for nothing. Why... if you bumped into one of us, our balance would keep and perhaps you would knock yourself over instead.

Won't that be a tripping over, if I did fall?

[ His face right now is eminently punchable. FYI. ]

[This one has a youthful face, lavender eyes, is wearing a rather homespun red apron over some rather uninteresting Initiate-provided clothes and peering.]

I've never met a hobbit before! How close to the ground are you? I'm pretty short, and just from my experience here... you have to be careful. Or mean children stick gum in your hair.

[A serious frown.]

So I guess you could say not all of the company's agreeable. There's a lot going on, the regular folks who live in the city don't like the people who've been transported here - they blame us for what's going on.

[

What's gum? ]

[ Nevermind. Having something stuck in his hair is horrifying enough as is without the exact details.

… And, yeah, no, he's just bypassing that whole thing about him being particularly short. Instead, there's a frown and a perplexed furrow of his brows. ] But how can we be to blame? [ They've been brought here to solve a problem not their own, so... – he wrinkles his nose and huffs something low and brief. ]

[A little sadly:] We're not. But it's not a logical thing. We've had some seriously rough times lately, and a lot of people have suffered and died because of the war. We're different from them, and we're easier to get angry at then the entire rest of the world in the UE.

Just be careful, okay? How are you doing so far?

I have seen two hobbits once, my Lord but I fear they have long since left. They were nothing but pleasant to me. This city is -- at times difficult to grasp but you will find agreeable company here, certainly.

[ My lord?

Woah.

That's... far more respectable than he's ever had the right to be. The tapping of his fingers increase for a brief moment, his discomfort showing quite plainly, but then he stills and clears his throat, gaze darting left, then right, before centering. ] Bilbo Baggins is... more fitting, I think. Just... just Bilbo from now on, thank you.

Oh -

Forgive me my L - Bilbo.

Bilbo Baggins.

[ she curtsies with a small smile which is probably not helping. ]

I'm Guinevere. But most people call me Gwen?

So what you're saying is that hobbits are lazy cowardly things, is that it?

[ Sadly, agreeable company, Mallory is not. ]

Edited 2013-07-09 17:32 (UTC)

[

Ah. Well then. ]

[ Opens mouth. Closes it. Opens. Draws brows tight. Exhales a puff. And shuts once more. Hm. ]

… No, I... [ Pause annnnd huff. ] … We enjoy... our comfort. There is nothing shameful of wanting to be home, amongst the things we love. [ Which is his armchair. And his garden. And his usually stocked pantry. ]

[ Oh this one is going to be too easy, if the faces he's making says it all. ]

Ehehehee. [ Mallory can't help but laugh at him. ] Oh, yes, yes, of course, comfort. Y'know, you could always go off on your own and make a new home to hide in. Lots of fixer-uppers about! Provided you don't mind the, y'know, massive rats.

I've tried telling the Initiative they got the wrong man, but they said they can't really control who it is they bring here. That's a silly way to amass an army, but I guess they have to make do with what they have!

Oh, did you say hobbit? I used to have a hobbit as a roommate! Very chipper fellow. I liked him.

[ Very silly. True, hobbits don't know much about building armies outside of rambunctious, hobbit lads and lasses amassing to wreck havoc on someone else's garden, but even he sees the fault in picking the soldiers at random. It's just his luck, isn't it? Being chosen – mistakenly or not – to take another adventure and so soon too. ]

I do not know whether I should feel better or worse that more hobbits have been here. [ He would not wish this on anyone, especially those who care for little more than their cozy hobbit holes, but--- ]

Wait.

[ Pause and there, there's the frown. ] They cannot control who is brought? But this is their doing... – how can they not have control of even that?

[Elmer laughs.] Ha, I know! It seems pretty strange, since not everyone is made out to be a soldier. But everyone they bring here can help in some way, yeah? I'm no fighter, so I've resolved to be this army's Morale Officer. Keep the troops smiling and happy!

Smoking the finest what?

[ A long pause - is he really meant to answer script? - ... and then a too proud— ]

Pipeweed. Longbottom Leaf, Old Toby, Southern Star... – no one thought to cultivate and smoke such things until we hobbits did.

[Sure, alright. He can switch to video if you're confused by text, dude. When he does, you'll find a young man who looks average for his own time and place (though probably a bit odd to a hobbit) staring back. His voice is deeper than usual after waking from a midday nap. Which may or may not be why his hair isn't combed either.]

Never heard of it, but it sounds alright. You guys must throw a good party.

[ Pursing his lips, then speaking; ]

A hobbit, you say?

[ who answers is a small child, only about twelve, and very short. larsa just clears four feet by three inches, and even that's debatable. he gives bilbo a kind smile, regality showing behind it as he listens. ]

It does seem that many scuffles are brought about by outside forces. It is most likely that disagreeable company is default to United Earth, aside from domestic squabbles between friends and family alike--yet, it seems that there are no factions that declare others their enemies, or of the like.

You needn't be worried if you are able to fight or not, though I must imagine they outfitted you with a weapon, correct?

[Sango's not entirely sure what a hobbit is, but this one seems pretty nice?]

There are a lot of different people here... from a lot of different worlds. That gap is sometimes hard to cross, but I've met several kind people here, and if there's one thing the Transports can do it's band together when things get critical.

[Which is, not the most comforting thing, now that she thinks about it.]

Er, be careful of the natives though. The Exiles. You mentioned you look pretty different, so... maybe be careful. Lately they haven't been taking kindly to obvious strangers.

Types?

[She gives him a crooked smile.]

Yes, we have mostly agreeable company here, serah. And we had some hobbits in the past. You will be welcomed here, do not worry.

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