Aman Role-play Community

*is apparently a prisoner?*

[Stage One] *sleeps for a while and doesn't care too much*

[Stage Two] *wanders around the room in groggy disbelief, looking for a loose board? A crack in the wall? An air-hole?* *nothing*

[Stage Three] *starts shouting*

Beginning with- Master Bard? I know you're out there... please open this door if you know what's good for you.

And rapidly progressing to- OPEN THIS DOOR IMMEDIATELY YOU ERUDAMNED MORTAL SLIMY SON OF A LAKE RAT!!!

*pounds on the floor for extra added emphasis*

*is out and about one evening after closing up the pool hall* *needs to buy a shirt*

*passes by an alleyway and pauses* *backs up*

*regards the figure slumped over next to the trash cans*

*sigh*

*slings the former monarch over one shoulder and hauls him back to the loft* *starts hunting for some boards and nails*

*is still sitting in the Pond of Doom, deep in conversation with the duck (the beady-eyed one), with several empty bottles nearby*

*listens intently for a moment*

Yes-yes, I see what you mean. It's actually quite ironic--I don't like drunks either. And if I did like them, I wouldn't like drunks that are boors. And if I did like drunks that are boors, I still wouldn't like me.

*takes a swig*

*sits by the duck pond in the park, a newspaper (liberated from a trash can) spread out on the bench beside him, and sighs over the rumors headline*

What drove you to this, my Lord? Would that I were so brave... but no, I take the coward's way and slowly drown myself from the inside out.

*takes a drink from his bottle and contemplates the water as gradually his out-of-focus eyes begin to focus on something unnatural floating by the shore*

*stands unsteadily and wades in, confirming his suspicions* :( *brushes the wet hair from the face and recognizes the features surprisingly enough* O my King--not you as well? *wonders if it's a trend*

*suddenly has a sense of a malevolent? presence behind him and turns to find a pair of creepy beady eyes watching his every move*

. . .

*begins to suspect Fowl Play*

*staggers along the streets of Tirion, clutching a bottle of wine in one hand, which he periodically lifts to his lips for a long exaggerated swallow*

*pauses and squints at an unfamiliar facade*

Pool Hall? Marvelous...I believe I fancy a swim.

*lurches inside and spreads himself across a vacant table*

*murmurs* The back-stroke would be entirely appropriate in this situation...if only I could remember it. :?