singillatim | Only a little fellow in a wide world

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Only a little fellow in a wide world

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! ]

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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! ]

[ 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.

Course I can, [ Hickey says, with a little nod. ] Easy enough to do so.

[ Because he's nice. He's just so fucking nice. He's the nicest person around. Please ignore the rumors and the beef with a decent chunk of the game and that he killed and ate a man eight or so months ago. ]

The name's Hickey, by the way. Cornelius Hickey. What's yours?

[ Just don't kill and eat him, thank you. ]

Frodo Baggins. Pleased to meet you.

[ Frodo. Odd name. Still, perhaps it's common for hobbits—it's not like Hickey would know. ]

Based on your clothing struggles, I suspect you're a new arrival. I've been here for a year and a bit—any questions about life in Milton?

[ A year and a bit. That's a good margin. ]

Is it always so cold?

It is. It'll warm up a little in the summer months, but not that much. And honestly, I suspect most of the summer warmth is because we've got the sun all day. Polar sun doesn't really set during the summer. It'll blaze damn near close to the entire day.

The sun never sets in the summer? That sounds like something from a story.

[ He's not sure what to feel about that knowledge, though. The light is usually comforting, but the cover of dark does something to calm the nerves when you're trying to sleep. You can't see very well, which means most others looking for you won't see you easily. ]

It never sets in the summer and it never rises in the winter, [ Hickey says, with a little shrug. ] It's got something to do with the turn of the earth, how it rotates around the sun.

[ At least, he's pretty sure that's how it works. He's not a scientist himself. ]

You came at a good time. Give it two months or so and we'll have daylight almost all day. Coming in now, at least you can have time to adjust to things.

I suppose I should be grateful for small mercies.

[ For all that he's not sure what to think about constant sunlight, constant darkness sounds infinitely worse. He's glad he won't have to deal with that any time soon. Hopefully, he never will. ]

Exactly, [ Hickey says, with a little nod. ] People here'll complain about this place. But far as I can tell, we've a roof over our head, a steady enough source of food, and survivable conditions. It won't be fun. It won't be pleasant. But it can be much worse.

[ And based on that little tone in his voice, it's been much worse for him in the past. ]

[ It certainly is an improvement from where he was. He'd be glad to be away from it if it wasn't so important, but at this point, he has no option but to hope that the same mysterious phenomenon that brought him here can send him back again. ]

And I can truly choose any unoccupied building in Milton and claim it for myself?

Truly, [ Hickey says, with a little nod. ] The previous inhabitants either died or vanished. Nobody's had anyone come back to say 'hey, get out of my house' or anything like that. Find one that fits and claim it for yourself.

Do they need any patching up?

[ They look rather worn down from the outside, but that doesn't have to mean anything. ]

What, the buildings? Not really. [ He shrugs a little before continuing, ]

Might need a bit of tidying or freshening up, but the bones are still good. Doubt you'd have to do much work to them.

[ He makes a noise of understanding, and pauses for a moment to think about it. ]

It does not feel quite right. I suppose the previous inhabitants won't be missing it, but ...

[ Clearly, something monumental happened here, with devastating consequences. It feels like the town should be left as it is for nature to take over. ]

[ It doesn't feel right. Hmm. Hickey frowns a little, looking over at Frodo, before deciding to press. ]

Why? What about using something that someone else won't use any more doesn't feel right to you?

[ Let's reframe those morals, buddy. ]

We are called Interlopers, are we not? I cannot help but feel that is correct, even though none of us chose this.

[ He won't say anything about the voice that called him that before arriving. Did everyone hear it? It seems like that should be the case, but he doesn't feel comfortable asking just anyone about that. ]

Yeah, but what are we intruding on? Nobody's here. Far as I can tell, this is no different than catching a rabbit to eat or picking berries from a bush.

[ That voice called them Interlopers. Other things have called them that as well. But as far as Hickey's concerned, they're wrong. There's nothing wrong, nothing that should be judged about keeping you and yours alive. It's as simple as that. ]

[ His brow furrows, and he simply looks at Hickey for a couple of a seconds. ]

Do you not feel it? It is as though their spirits inhabit this town.

[ Perhaps it purely is a feeling, but he thinks that holds some weight, too. ]

You've got to believe in spirits, ghosts, things like that in order to feel it.

[ And for Hickey, at least, when you're dead then you're dead. Any sort of presence, any sort of trace the previous occupants might leave behind, it's just one's mind playing tricks on them. It's hesitation and odd feelings. Nothing more. ]

What I feel most of the time is cold. Hunger. And if I can abate those two things by taking the clothes of some dead man who'll never use them and using their furniture as kindling for a fire to cook food to eat, then I'll do just that. The dead don't have use for their belongings. The living might as well use them instead.

[ At his core, Hickey is a practical man. The only things that matter are the base desires. Survival. Food. Comfort. Things like the morality of stealing or grave-robbing or wearing a dead man's shoes don't matter to him. ]

[ Truthfully, he can't argue against that either. He certainly cannot afford to die here, so far from where he needs to go. He will take and use what he must to survive. But it still feels wrong.

And that voice that had spoken to him before he regained consciousness in this realm ... His skin crawls just thinking about it.

He makes a polite noncommittal sound just to show he's not ignoring Hickey, then turns his attention back to the coats. ]

[ Hickey turns his attention to the coats as well. On the one hand, this quiet is telling him that maybe he might have said something wrong. Maybe he didn't need to phrase things this way. On the other hand, he's 100% right. Absolutely right. Not wrong here. ]

If you ever aren't doing so good, seek out me and mine. I'll keep people here fed, no questions asked.

All right, I will. Thank you.

[ Despite what reservations he has about everything Hickey has said just now, far be it for him to look a gift horse in the mouth. His journey to Mordor so far has taught him that occasionally risks must be taken. Going it alone is not the best idea. He imagines Hickey sees it the same way.

Even so, he'll make an effort to not need it. ]

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