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towerofanimus2013-02-01 11:08 pm
bow_of_the_galadhrim) wrote in towerofanimus2013-02-01 11:08 pm
Entry tags:
There's no place like home
Characters: Legolas (bow_of_the_galadhrim) and OPEN
Setting: Floor 100
Format: Prose to start, will switch
Summary: Legolas explores some new floors and chills on the 100th
Warnings: Nothing but sads
Legolas spent the day exploring as much of the new floors as he could, taking note of places to avoid, places that might be useful and so on. His hair was loose, not even the small and thin braids that usually wrapped around his head, he wore a neat blue tunic with his breeches and the same thin leather boots he always wore. On his back was his quiver, arrows and bow and he had his swords as well. If the prince was anything, it was careful. Especially with unexplored floors at hand.
Eventually, he found himself on the one-hundredth floor. And in a recreation of Mirkwood. And not just the forest, he’s in Thranduil’s Halls. A smile crossed his lips at the sight. He could never forget the look of his home, a place that he’d explored for a great many years, never allowed to leave without an escort until he was old enough to defend himself. With a smile, he passed by where his fathers throne sat, the armory, passed the rarely used prison cells, his room. Just walking around and looking. Only once did he try to touch something, a painting of his father and himself, and discovered it only an illusion.
With a sigh, he remained there for a bit longer. Even if it was fake, it was a reminder of home.
bow_of_the_galadhrim) and OPENSetting: Floor 100
Format: Prose to start, will switch
Summary: Legolas explores some new floors and chills on the 100th
Warnings: Nothing but sads
Legolas spent the day exploring as much of the new floors as he could, taking note of places to avoid, places that might be useful and so on. His hair was loose, not even the small and thin braids that usually wrapped around his head, he wore a neat blue tunic with his breeches and the same thin leather boots he always wore. On his back was his quiver, arrows and bow and he had his swords as well. If the prince was anything, it was careful. Especially with unexplored floors at hand.
Eventually, he found himself on the one-hundredth floor. And in a recreation of Mirkwood. And not just the forest, he’s in Thranduil’s Halls. A smile crossed his lips at the sight. He could never forget the look of his home, a place that he’d explored for a great many years, never allowed to leave without an escort until he was old enough to defend himself. With a smile, he passed by where his fathers throne sat, the armory, passed the rarely used prison cells, his room. Just walking around and looking. Only once did he try to touch something, a painting of his father and himself, and discovered it only an illusion.
With a sigh, he remained there for a bit longer. Even if it was fake, it was a reminder of home.