Only a little fellow in a wide world

[nicehobbit]

Who: Frodo Baggins and you!
What: Settling in
When: The first couple of days since his arrival
Where: Around Milton

A. Dress-up

[ With food in his belly, dry clothes and a bit of rest, now comes the matter of actually dressing appropriately for the weather. The jacket and cloak may have served Frodo well enough during his journey back home, but he doesn't need anyone to tell him that they will not be enough in this cold. If his walk here was any indication, it's probably worth finding boots, too, for all that he'd prefer not.

This is easier said than done. Surely, there must be appropriately-sized clothing for him. The people who must have left these items behind would have had children, wouldn't they? At least some of them. Or will he need to find someone who can potentially tailor one of the coats for shorter men?

He can be found trying on coats, one after the other, that are small enough that he's not drowning in them but so big that even keeping his hands outside of the sleeves long enough to reach the zipper is a battle. Not to mention the existence of zippers in the first place. He scowls down at one of said zippers, then throws the coat off him with a frustrated sigh. ]

B. Exploration

[ Once he's found good enough clothing, Frodo ventures outside again. He'd gotten a decent look at the town on the way in, but he was mostly concerned with getting to his destination without dying. The wind still bites into every bit of exposed skin it can, but it's manageable.

He doesn't get all that far, though. Once he reaches the post office, he stops in the crossroads to stare. First, he only sweeps his gaze across what he can see, but in a moment he starts turning around, taking in the abandoned and run-down buildings with a sinking feeling in his chest. This isn't right. It's not right at all.

When he sees someone else on the road, he stops turning to direct a question to them. For a moment, being wary of strangers is unimportant. ]

What happened to all the people here?

[ He hasn't had - or taken - the time to do his research just yet. ]

C. Wildcard

[ If you want to use his arrival prompts from the TDM, feel free! Also down for considering them game canon. Or run into him some place else in town. You can hit me up at Tossino or discord @ tossino! ]

Comments

A

[dies_irate]

[ Frodo is not the only one having issues with clothing, though his 'size' issues are on the opposite side of the scale.

...also the very non-standard legs. Those are pretty much making traditional pants impossible, even if the pitch-black locks are keeping the upper portions largely warm enough.

Either way, someone else is also going to try and find something for himself for the cold weather, so hopefully the seven foot tall robed creature with the horns doesn't freak him out too hard. He will speak up when he sees someone there already, even though he's still getting used to actually interacting with people. ]

Can I, uh, look for some things as well or should I wait?

[ Deep, unnatural... but entirely 'normal' in tone. ]

[nicehobbit]

[ Deep and unnatural as that voice is - and it definitely puts him on edge - it didn't prepare Frodo for what he was about to see. He looks up, because he's grown used to having to look up all the time once again, except even looking as far up as he's used to isn't enough. And so his eyes keep going, widening as they do, and then--

He gasps, stumbling back several steps until he hits a wall. One hand reaches for Sting, but he put it aside to be able to move easier while trying on all the coats and it's not there. ]

[dies_irate]

[ Those golden eyes don't so much look malevolently down at Frodo like some terrifying monster planning to eat him. It's a lot more of a flat look. Like, seriously. How many ravenous beasts ask about things? ]

Yeah, you're not what I expected either, buddy.

[ Huff. ]

Fine. I'll wait, then.

[nicehobbit]

[ It takes another few seconds for his mind to catch up with what's happening. First, his eyes flicker down to the other wall where his sword rests. Then, as he looks back up, the actual words John said slowly sink in. His thoughts race, piecing things together as quickly as they can. He's been mysteriously transported from the marshes he's supposed to be in to a place that's colder than anything he's ever experienced, and this town looks unlike anything he's seen. Even before that, his life had taken a fantastical turn that he could never have predicted, with rings of power and flaming demons and magic he had no idea Gandalf could conjure.

What Bilbo told him echoes in his mind again. 'It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door.' If only he could have anticipated just how truthful that was.

John's thoughts are correct, of course. If this were a ravenous beast, he'd be dead by now. That knowledge, mostly subconscious as it is, is what finally brings Frodo to take a deep breath and close his eyes to calm his racing heart. ]

No. You do not need to wait.

[dies_irate]

[ He pauses, ready to leave the area given the response, but he won't ignore what Frodo says. Instead, he turns back and peers down.

He doesn't have eyebrows, exactly, except... maybe he does? It's hard to tell given the flat black of his features, but there's definitely a shift in the shape of the glowing gold to indicate skepticism.

His own experience is... well, it's definitely varied and 'adventure' would be making it a lot more grand than the horrific series of events really warrants. This fun new trip into the frozen wasteland is new, but getting randomly teleported by mysterious forces that probably don't intend anything good for him? Old hat.

He is, however, getting to deal with having a physical body of his own for the very first time ever so that's been an adjustment. ]

You sure?

[nicehobbit]

Yes.

[ He clears his throat, and straightens up from the wall as he straightens out his shirt with a few tugs at the hem. ]

You shocked me, is all. I have never seen, uh, anyone like you.

[dies_irate]

[ The peering continues. ]

I could say the same.

[ A pause before he offers- ]

My name is John. Nice to, um, meet you, I guess.

B

[solitarysoul]

[The boy in the oversized coat with the bow on his back frowns at that question. The answer wasn't pretty, but hiding it served no purpose.]

They, um, they died.

[Well, some might have gotten away but since they weren't returning it wasn't much of a difference to him.]

[nicehobbit]

[ Honestly, it's the answer he expects. It doesn't stop the sorrow that drops like a stone into his stomach, though, and he mournfully looks up the empty street. Of course, there are signs of living here, with the 'Interlopers'. But considering the size of the town, it should be more lively. ]

It's because of this winter, isn't it? It doesn't ... feel right.

[solitarysoul]

Uh...m-maybe? T-the winter probably isn't normal but I'm not sure if the thing that killed them caused it or if its just happening. The aurora is special, but the winter is just...never ending.

Though, um, I guess I don't know what this place was like before we all got here. I think the newspapers said the weather was weird? I don't really remember.

[nicehobbit]

[ The key to finding his way back home has to be in understanding what happens. Which means that if there is information somewhere, he wants to see it. Read everything there is. But ... ]

'Newspapers'?

[ That's an unfamiliar word. ]

[solitarysoul]

Um, they're like daily news digests for a town or wherever. In print. Chloe or the library have a bunch of old ones from before whatever happened here.

[nicehobbit]

Is the library here in town?

[ Now he has a goal. Good. That makes him feel better. ]

a, I am so sorry for him in advance

[friendsfordinner]

[ Cornelius Hickey, who's adapted perfectly well to modern clothing and is tall enough not to struggle with zippers (but short enough that even for all of the weirdly tall Victorians, people are like damn, he's short) will admit this much: he's a little bit happy to see someone smaller than him. He saunters over towards Frodo, perfectly happy and willing to gloat about the fact that there's clothing here perfectly fine for his 170ish centimeter self, when he notices something else. ]

Mate, you should probably get those checked out, [ says as he gestures to Frodo's feet. ] I know Goodsir left, [ and thank fuck for that, ] but Nazarova's here. She can at least help ease that swelling.

[ What did he step on to have his feet swell up that badly? ]

I'm so excited

[nicehobbit]

[ It takes a few moments for Frodo to register what Cornelius means, even with the gesturing. He looks down at his feet, wondering what's wrong with them, until he remembers. Big Folk. Big Folk who know absolutely nothing about Hobbits.

So he looks back up with a smile, attempting to be reassuring. ]

There is nothing wrong with them. They are merely Hobbit feet.

[friendsfordinner]

[ A very important point except for one small problem, ]

What the hell's a hobbit?

[nicehobbit]

It's what I am. Big Folk like you usually call us Halflings.

[ Now that some of the frustration has passed, he bends down to pick the coat up again. It's rude to simply leave it lying around on the floor, after all. ]

[friendsfordinner]

I don't know what a Halfling is either, [ Hickey points out, as he looks over at Frodo. He can kind of see what the problem is. Small as he is, he's probably having trouble finding clothes that fit. ]

You know, a mate of mine is a steward. Mends clothes, patches things up, that kind of thing. If we find something that mostly fits, I bet he can tailor it to fit better.

[ Has Hickey told Billy about this before volunteering him for this job? Nope. Can Billy even tailor to begin with? Hell if Hickey knows, but it sounds like something he can do! ]

[nicehobbit]

[ That just gets a half shrug. It's not unusual for a man to not know what a Halfling is, he thinks. The Bree folk know, but beyond that town it wouldn't surprise him if everyone considers them myth or legend if they've ever heard of them. And Hobbits are in no hurry to make themselves widely known. ]

I may have to do that. Could you introduce us? I would be most grateful.

A

[meadqueen]

[Randvi approaches the small man throwing jackets around with a bit of care. The halfling Renny had had quite a temper on occasion.]

My companion Lyanna is a skilled tailor, if you require aid.

[nicehobbit]

[ The frustration means that he doesn't notice someone approaching, and he jumps with the surprise, moving instinctively towards where he put his shortsword. The next moment, though, he reminds himself that he's most likely not in danger, particularly from someone who offers help before saying hello. ]

It seems I most likely will need a tailor. Thank you.

[meadqueen]

There have been several people here at different times who have a bit of difficulty with the standard sizes carried here.

Have you seen the map posted here in the hall? I live on a road called Bear’s Bend.

[nicehobbit]

[ As he bends down to pick up the coat he threw down, he nods. ]

I did.

[ He pauses for a second or two. ]

These people ... Were any of them Hobbits? I mean, did any of them look a lot like me?

[meadqueen]

I do not recall anyone called a Hobbit. Renny was a halfling [and extremely sensitive if you implied he was a dwarf] and Hornet called herself a bug. Oh, and Uzi, but I think she was a robot.

[nicehobbit]

[ He perks up somewhat at the word 'halfling', but what little excitement sparks in him is quickly diminished as he realises that if this Renny were a Hobbit they wouldn't have introduced themselves as a Halfling. Most likely, at least. But then, what other people would be called Halfling?

More important, though, is the way this woman talks about these people. ]

Where is Renny now?