( ᴛʜɪs ᴍʏsᴛᴇʀʏ ᴏɴʟʏ ʟᴇᴀᴅs ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏᴜʙᴛ ) (
absurdities) wrote in
bakerstreet2014-01-31 09:59 pm
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( stargazing )

the stargazing meme
oo1. comment with your characters
make sure to put names, series, & preferences somewhere!
you can use < ! > sans the spaces to make the comment "blank"
oo2. reply to others in character
oo3. use the rng and enter 1-10
oo4. play out what happens—anything goes!
oo5. profit? oh yeah!
one → meteor shower you just saw a falling star! and another! make a wish!
two → aliens what was that? was that really? omg no way a ufo!
three → lunar eclipse you've been sitting out for hours, waiting for this. it's so cool!
four → comet does it move fast or slow? either way, it's amazing.
five → full moon the moon is so huge! just don't look too long, it's really bright too.
six → star dust anything can happen in space. make up your own plot!
seven → solar eclipse this might be happening in the middle of the day!
eight → planet sighting is that a new star? nope, just a neighbor in the solar system!
nine → constellations do you know the stories behind these odd patterns?
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She's rather glad that he seems to know where to go, since she has been so turned around this entire night, not to mention that so many of the buildings are burned so badly that they are not even recognizable; she is sure that it would take her an embarrassingly long time to find the home of their previous host.
Noticing his limp, she chides herself quietly and links his arm through hers.] Lean on me. Your brother will never forgive me if I allowed you to come to harm, even from yourself.
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[His thoughts are cut short when she pulls his arm to her. He would say how his brother would not blame her if something were to happen to him, she had already saved his life to begin with, but the fact is he rather likes having his arm rest on hers. For support, of course.] Being injured does not mean I'm cold. But... thank you.
[After crossing a small bridge he looks on, taking a pause to study the crisp remnant of the paths before he turns left.] This way.
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So instead she simply lets Kíli lean on her and follows where he leads.]
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He stops at another turn, this time looking at the ground until he spots a fresh scratch on the wooden planks, marked even over the dust and ashes, and he nods that way.] There.
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[Dead, actually, and she doesn't really want to examine the pang in her chest at the thought.]
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But he is quick to dismiss it. He knows she is right, of course, but that does not mean he likes being scolded as if he were a child, regardless of how many hundreds of years may separate them. He smiles up at her once they reach the door, opening it for her.] In that case you should have to heal me again.
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I should not have to. [She might not have the strength. Elves have hardy constitutions, of course, but tonight has been long and difficult and is so tired.
She smiles at him in thanks and steps inside, her shoulders dropping as she sighs in relief that this place is still standing as it was when she left it.]
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The girl... I don't know her name. She should have some clothes she could lend you. [He takes a seat himself, sighing in relief as he no longer has to rest the weight of his body on his injured leg.]
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Once she is down to her shift, she turns and glances around the room, her cheeks pinkening a little.] I will find her. Try not to injure yourself while I am gone.
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She is talking, there is that too. He just has a hard time hearing her at first. Finally he shakes his head, as if trying to break a spell that had been put upon him.] Yes! Yes, alright, well... [He clears his throat.] I can't make any promises.
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Until she remembers who it is who is in the room with her, and then her blush makes much more sense.
She nods and hurries away, feeling embarrassed and foolish, and is very glad to find the human children sleeping upstairs. It doesn't take long to rouse them, or for them to find her appropriate clothing she can slip into, and soon she is padding back downstairs on bare feet, a rough dress of warm wool covering her long limbs as she braids her hair over her shoulder.]
Let me look at your wound.
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The fumbling noises as she returns catches his attention, and he looks to where she is coming from. True, she may hold herself like a warrior, and think of herself as that and only that, but Kíli is yet to see a maiden that he finds as beautiful as she, her figure foreign to his eyes when in a dress but still no less graceful.
He quickly moves to try and undo the knot in the piece of fabric she had tied around his leg, but with little luck - either because her knot is too strong, or his hands are weak, or he lacks the patience to undo it properly. Instead he takes hold of his dagger, intent on cutting it off.]
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Her thoughts are derailed quickly when she sees the dagger in Kíli's hand. Rushing forward, she stills his hand, her brows drawing together.]
What are you doing? [She does not think he would have cut himself, no, but she could not help the instinctual alarm that flared in her chest.] Let me. [Being warm and dry has done wonders for her, and Tauriel feels much stronger now than she did before; her fingers make short work of the bandage she tied around his leg, carefully unwinding it so she can see how his wound is faring.]
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I was cutting the bandage. [But he makes no motion to try again, instead just returns the blade to its sheathe as her hands, much thinner than his and even less calloused, masterfully undo the tight knot made with the linen. He stretches his leg out and turns it just enough so that the wound is more visible. It doesn't look as terrible as it did before, but there is still a darkened shade in the skin around it, and a thick paste of clogged blood that formed in the meantime, staining the bandage and his ripped pants alike. The blood he is sure is there because he had been walking around recently, but the shade of his skin he's not so sure he will ever get rid of.]
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[The thickness of the blood is a little alarming, but Tauriel wipes it gently away with a rag so that she can see the flesh beneath; it has a much healthier color, even though it is obviously nowhere close to being healed yet. Carefully, she washes the blood and dirt away from the wound, until the flesh is clean and the wound is oozing healthy-colored blood again, then she picks up the bowl with the kingsfoil paste she made earlier and smears another dollop of the leafy green paste into it before wrapping it back up, this time with a fresh bandage despite what she said earlier about there being no more.]
You are healing as well as can be expected. [She can probably take her hand off his knee, but it doesn't seem to have occurred to her yet.] And you will likely continue to do so...if you rest and do not exacerbate the wound.
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It is quite a feat for a nearly 80 year-old dwarf to look so much like a child, and yet somehow he manages it, an expression to that last remark that looks almost like a pout. But finally he gives in and nods at her request.] Alright, I promise I won't go for any more fresh air.
[He doesn't mind her hand on his knee at all. In fact he is very glad for it, because his hand rests very close to hers and all he has to do is shift it sideways ever so slightly and their fingers are touching.]
Are you staying? [Which, in his tone of voice, sounds a lot more like a request than a question. Please stay.]
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[The way he shifts his hand to brush against hers has her dropping them back down to his knee, though, watching the way his thick, callused fingers touch hers with a gentleness their size belies. She doesn't move her hand away, is in fact trying to work up the courage to shift hers as well until they can hold hands properly when he speaks up and she has to drag her attention back to the matter at hand.]
I...yes. I will stay. [She needs to rest, and all her clothing and weapons are here. As is her patient.]
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[His eyes meet hers for a moment, then he lowers his head, not at all in shyness but rather in slight self-reproach.]
I am sorry, truly. You've saved my life. [He looks up then, honesty in his expression just as well as his words.] It wasn't my intention to undo what you did for me, or to make you worry.
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That's all she can focus on at the moment, the heat of his palm against her hand, and she knows it takes her a moment to focus, which is terribly embarrassing.
Their eyes meet.] ...You mother was right. You are reckless.
[She sounds almost fond, though, and her fingers shift a little beneath his so that they slot together comfortably.]
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Yes, I guess... I guess I am. [Her hand is much colder by contrast, possibly because she had been in the water for so long, but he can feel it warming underneath his. He lowers his eyes, his thumb softly stroking her skin.]
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Perhaps it's not such a bad thing, though. [If he was less reckless, he might not have come on this journey and then they never would have met.]
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It could have gone worse, that much is true. [He most certainly wouldn't have taken the risk of jumping onto the bridge to lower the lever, and would have never gotten pierced by that arrow. Which, to some, could be seen as a good thing, but Kíli was starting to think of that arrow as a blessing, for without it she might not have come to him.
It's clear he doesn't want to move from there, he doesn't even want to shift an inch, but Tauriel is kneeling on the ground and he can't imagine that being very comfortable. He tugs on her hand slightly, to get her attention.] We should move somewhere else.
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kneelingstanding. Their nations are not quite at war, but they are definitely not allies. He is a prince of Durin, in line for the throne. She will outlive him by centuries if not millennia. All very valid reasons, ones which she is ignoring right now. They seem very far away from this singed little house on the lake.It's true that one of the main reasons she defied her king and went after the dwarves was because of her concern for his injury. The brief time they spend talking through the bars of his cell made her care enough about him that the thought of him dying slowly of a Morgul poison was abhorrent to her. Not when she knew how to heal him, even if she wasn't quite sure if she could. Still. It is a little drastic to obtain a mortal injury just for the sake of getting someone's attention.]
Oh. Yes, of course. [She levers herself up to her feet, only refraining from swaying by holding on to the edge of the table. She is far more tired than she wants to admit to, but Kíli is injured and he requires tending to first.] You need to rest, to heal.
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And so do you, it seems. [There aren't a lot of comfortable places for them to rest on, granted, but Kíli spots a few blankets in a corner, falling out of a half-open closet. He figures the floor is as comfortable as a place to sit, even more so if they make use of the blankets.
He walks over to the pile, picking them up one by one and laying them out on the ground by the wall.]
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[She's a little confused when she sees him start to lay blankets down on the floor, especially since the blankets he puts down are quite a bit larger than he would need, with how he's spread them out. It takes her a moment to realize that he perhaps expects her to lie down with him, and that has her eyebrows shooting up to her hairline.
As she reaches out to stop him, something stills her hand. She is tired, and the blankets do look comfortable enough, and if she is nearby perhaps he won't try to do himself yet more harm. She stills her tongue and simply watches him putter until he is satisfied.]
I love how this went in a completely different direction than intended from the meme haha
whateva whateva we do what we want!!
pffft yes pretty much
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