UNKNOWN / NTH.

“Being able to watch the sun rise like this. It almost makes me feel like I would be back in the Shire….” And, oh, how much Frodo was missing it. Even after leaving his friends there behind. Because he had not been able to adapt to his old life again as easily even after the ring had been finally destroyed….

"it is something to marvel at, to be sure," jace agrees mildly, his eyes likewise cast in the direction of the rising sun. he had needed a temporary reprieve from the noise of the waking city and had eventually found his feet carrying him to the rooftop of a building. he'd not expected company, though he doesn't mind it either. he's always welcomed the momentary kinship he could find with strangers. "was the... shire much like this? a retreat in the open air?"

"not in the slightest, to be honest." alicent speaks quietly, near awkwardly. "but i know her in this life, the life that everyone calls fake." but this life had never been fake to her. she had loved rhaenyra for years in her mind. she had seen a future, they had been living together for christs sake. but that makes her pause. rhaenyra has a son? "you do look like her." she speaks softly, she should have known those eyes from anywhere. "estranged? what do you mean?" she couldn't picture being apart from rhaenyra even in any universe.

"it's not an easy story to tell," jace says after a moment's pause. he feels like he must tread lightly here. "this place is much changed from the one i've known as our home. i suppose what had kept us estranged then may seem nonsensical in the place we know now." he keeps his words intentionally vague, unsure if it would be wise to dredge up old wounds, nor is he too keen on speaking plainly on his rumored bastardy here and now. perhaps there is a reason why his mother has kept alicent in the dark about the truth of their past. he had never agreed with his mother's partiality for the enemy, but neither does he find it his place to intervene in what seems to be a private matter. "perhaps it is less my story to tell and more my mother's, as it seems you two have already made close acquaintance here."

"Sorry for making this awkward." Finally her voice and brain decided to function again. "Still, nice to meet you, John. And, at least in my opinion, you fit in here just nicely." She shrugged and grinned a little. "Just do not make yourself smaller than you are."

"ain't nothin' to be sorry for," john says, a bit ill at ease by the twist in her expression. did he say something wrong? "likewise, miss. ain't sure the rest here would agree, but it certainly does me well to know at least someone seems to think so." at her words, he releases a puff of a small chuckle. it once used to be damn near impossible to make himself small. no matter how hard he tried, it seemed there was always the promise of trouble to follow wherever he went. though, again, he's more than aware it's only himself he has to blame for that. "doesn't sound too bad." he shrugs. "there's peace in keepin' yourself small. sometimes a bit of quiet is all some of us can ask for."

@ivycovestarters

"just passin' through. sorry, ma'am, i ain't from here. just had a favor to do for a friend," john says, offering the other an apologetic look. "it's a nice place, though. too nice for me. i'm sure i stick like a bad splinter." he shakes his head, still feeling out of place in this world no matter the long years spent in it. "well, it's a pleasure all the same, miss. the name's john marston."

"Perhaps more so the wind's fault rather than yours." Amy says and smiles softly as he looks at her, a warm blush causing her cheeks to go a little pink. "If it worries you so much, it must be rather important, and I cannot fault you there, if I lost Bess, I would be sick from worry." She muses as she watches her daughter smile over at the man and start toddling over to him, her tiny, chubby hands reaching up as though silently asking him to pick her up and Amy is momentarily confused, but for some strange reason, doesn't stop her toddler. "Bess...? Oh, I'm so sorry, she's not usually like this, but, we appreciate the offer and will happily take it, thank you, Mr...?"

"oh, you're too kind to save my pride, miss," laurie says with just a tinge of red to his cheeks. "ah, my grandfather may disagree with you there. it was only the scribblings of a rather rough piano composition i likely could've done without. my grandfather is quite the doting man, but he thinks i'm better off focusing my mind on more important matters, and i cannot argue to the contrary." still, laurie tucks away the paper with the rest. "bess! short for elizabeth, i assume? a smart name for a smart girl." he smiles softly at the toddling girl. it's almost strange how familiar this picture of them seems and, more importantly, how instinctive it feels, this urge to sweep the little girl into his arms. but that would be much too forward, he assumes. he is as good as a stranger, after all, and he'd already promised to relieve the woman of the weight she's carrying. "pleased to make myself useful," laurie says as he takes the two bags from the woman. "i'm mr. laurence, but please, call me laurie. and you are...?"

            in  zaun  most  people  had  learned  to  talk  with  their  fists  rather  use  their  words  ,  bluntness  came  with  the  territory.  ‘  usually  when  they  are  that  stupid  they  dont  really  take  the  hint.  ‘  vi  could  spot  it  from  a  mile  away  ,  she  had  grown  up  around  enough  stupid  people  to  know.  ‘  they also cant hide that about themselves as well. '

"ah, well, that's understandable. you'd run out of breath correcting every fool who speaks when they better ought not to." laurie offers a lazy shrug. "perhaps it's my own flaw. i can't help but make my point even if it goes unheard anyway. perhaps i feel too strongly about my own opinions."

Natasha glanced at him. "What, are we about to start crusading around town?" The former widow certainly knew how to fight but this didn't exactly seem like the place. "Doesn't it seem too calm at times?" ❧ @icarianed

"crusading, saving the occasional cat from a tree, all in the name of keeping chivalry proud. you know, the usual knightly business." all notional, really. he still can't quite imagine himself the hero. "i guess so. but from my experience, it's usually calm before it's something terrible."

ben watched as the simple r2 unit he crafted from scrap metal came to life, impressed. “not sure what i’m going to do with an astromech droid. i just wanted to see if it could be replicated with the technology from our world.” ben explained, still examining the droid, like it was too good to be true. “anyways, thank you for the help. ben,” he introduced as he extended a hand. he only prayed the name was enough to distance himself from kylo ren. the last thing he needed was someone reminding him of who he used to be.

"it's what i know better than anything else," anakin shrugs, shying away from the stranger's thanks. "i like keeping my hands busy. feels easier to think when i'm fixing something." things just make more sense when he's fixing something, always a straightforward way to make them right. "they're great companions, if you care to keep them around." he's lucky artoo seems to have followed him into this world. he doesn't know what he'd do without the company of his whirring beeping all the late nights he spends tinkering away. "well met, ben. anakin."

"Fickle perhaps, but love can be as well. It doesn't take much for love to turn to hatred" his father's words haunting him as they always had done. The man had taught him everything he had needed to know. "It is easy to fear a monster, it is easier to fear the person controlling taxes".

"that may be true, but fear has always been the easier path to hatred," jace counters. "easy to fear the person controlling the taxes, indeed, but easier still to rally behind the more fearsome foe, especially if the outcome means supersession. a loved ruler would not see their people so eager to supplant them."

"No but it doesn't mean I can't empathize." Christine sighed wistfully as she watches the deceit take place before them. The poor man who lost whatever he earned with his blood and sweat. "Did he take something irreplaceable? We could track him down and turn him into the police." she inquired though she knew it would be a waste of time. "I'm surprised there's not more duels happening in this town. The people here are far too different from the ones I'm used to. The ones that take justice into their hands without the help of the police. Wishful thinking, I suppose."

“every man for themselves, i guess. world ain't never seem to change.” john shrugs, having accepted that hard truth long ago. “may not be the best idea. police in this age don't seem too kind to those who take the law into their hands. hurts their pride, i guess.” which is unfortunate. back home, at least, he could get a pretty dime for a caught bounty. now it seems even catching criminals is a crime in itself. “duels?” that piques his interest. “now that's somethin' more reminiscent of home. though the duels i remember weren't fought for nothin' as honorable as justice. at least, not most of 'em. usually, it was just one man's excuse to shoot a man for lookin' at him funny.”

@icarianed

“i'm sorry. that... can't be easy.” there was a time when bob might've flinched at the mention of gods, but there's little that surprises him anymore. “my story?” loaded question, but he's the one who brought it up. seems silly to shy away from it now. “volunteered for human experimentation. thought it would make me special only to gain powers and immediately lose control of them to a physical manifestation of all my worst fears.” his lips purse. “i'm better now.” for the most part, anyway. “just... these shadows. sort of takes me back to that time in my life, you know?”

                      emma  couldnt  help  the  amused  smirk  to  cross  her  lips  ,  because  if  emma  really  wanted  to  know  she  would  just  read  his  mind.  but  the  other  seemed  genuine  so  she  left  it  alone  for  now.  ‘  surprisingly  thats  a  common  sentiment.  ‘  an  amused  smirk  pulled  across  her  lips.

“is it?” bob feels his shoulders relax slightly.   “well, then i'm glad you don't think i'm just being an asshole. because i'm not! really, i have no idea how the conversation led to pastrami sandwiches. maybe i'm just feeling homesick. or hungry. that's very possible too.”

“better to know yourself than be cowered into compliance to fools who'd rather mould you into what they want you to be,” claudia says, bitterly reminded of her past role as an unwilling bandage to a relationship already halfway in the grave. “it's a shame that it should be a plight shared at all. i hoped things would be different here, but even decades apart, the place is riddled with egoists greedy for a power trip.”

@icarianed

“maybe not, but it is from the world i know.” anakin kneels down to examine the droid. “i used to take them apart just to see if i could put them back together again until eventually i came to know them like the back of my hand.” which also happens to be made of wire and steel, as he's often bitterly reminded. “it's simple, really.” anakin digs a hand into the droid's components. “you take that wire there, move it here. clip that circuit and tighten the coupling there, and-” he withdraws his hand once the droid whirs and sputters to life. “like i said. simple.”

"peace is a truly fickle thing." she had never known how little peace that asgard had until she had been staring it in the eyes, and begging for even just a single moment to rest. "duty is also a fickle thing." she says with a small chuckle. though, ama had a much easier duty than the one the brothers had thrust upon. "i will not be able to ever return to my world. even without this place, it was destroyed."

“peace is only fickle because people make it fickle. it doesn't have to be.” duty, however, is a different matter. “fickle is less the word i would use, more a burden that won't relent. in my experience, at least.” it seemed there would always be something to draw him back to duty, no matter how far he tried to veer off elsewhere. “as was mine. my home, that is.” whether he means angband or the southlands, it doesn't matter. all of it is gone anyway. “perhaps this place is meant to appear the second chance,” he muses off-handedly. “i don't trust it.”