Alone
************
Hello, everyone. This is my first ficlet. I hope that you like it, and if you don't, I'll take it down so you shall not have to suffer with this disgusting piece of literature on your site.
Disclaimer:
I must warn you - Nothing in this ficlet belongs to be, other than the things that you do not recognize as J.R.R. Tolkien's. I do not write like him, and if you are hoping that this piece of fiction shall come even close to the magnificence of Tolkien's work; I am sorry to say that you are sadly mistaken.
--Silent Silver
************
Chapter Three: Male Models, Old Dudes, and Rivendell, Oh MY!
I groaned, and sat up in bed abruptly, hissing angrily at the sharp pain in my head. Bed...? I don't have a...
"AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, and stared with wide eyes around the room, my breath coming in short, quick gasps.
The room was nothing short of ethereal. The walls were a soft beige color, and around the room, purple accents complimented the wall color. There was a gigantic mahogany wardrobe resting inconspicuously in a far corner of the room, and in the opposite corner, there was a vanity, complete with it's own purple-cushioned chair. Moving on, I noticed yet another doorway, half opened, and half-confirmed this room to be a bathroom. Flitting my eyes to the brightest part of the room, I noticed that there was an enormous sliding glass door, which led out onto a magnificent balcony. However, the balcony was not quite what had astounded me so - Rather, it was the view outside. Beyond the balcony, one could see a magnificent waterfall, and a garden below, flourishing with green plants.
Honestly, I must have been too caught up in my ogling of my surroundings to notice a rather tall old man sitting at the edge of my bed. When my withering coal-black gaze met with the kind gray eyes of this man... Did it ensure calmness and a serene peace over all? Let's try again.
"WHAT THE MOTHERFUCKING HELL?!" I demanded, pointing at the man, and then gesturing around the room, "WHY THE FUCK AM I HERE?! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT WITH ME? IF YOU KIDNAPPED ME YOU OLD FART, YOU AREN'T GETTING ANY MONEY! NOBODY WANTS ME BACK, FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"
Much to my unvanquished horror, the old bastard started laughing. No, not just a soft chuckle... No, not even an illicit stream of giggles. Noooo! It had to be a FULL OUT I-am-so-laughing-my-royally-old-and-wrinkled-ass-off- at-you kind of laughing! I gaped at the old guy, staring up at him with an evil look that just screamed 'How dare you laugh your old and wrinkled ass off at me!'. A muscle in my jaw twitched, and the door opened soundlessly. I was too busy pointing at the old dude and stuttering a colorful string of curses that could make a sailor blush to notice, however.
"Ah," said a smooth male voice, "I see that she has awakened."
I whipped my head around swiftly, and I could've sworn I heard a 'crack' when I did so. I narrowed my eyes dangerously as I glared at the new intruder. He looked disgustingly and unnervingly perfect, perhaps even more so than the girls at the academy. To be perfectly honest, he was the image of a male model. I growled slightly in disgust. Fuck, now all I needed was someone to dye my hair blonde and put make-up on me, and this would be the most horrifying nightmare I had bared witness to.
"Apparently," the old man chuckled, tugging on his silvery beard, "Yes, she has."
I crossed my arms over my chest, and glared at each of them sternly, "It's okay. You can talk about me. I'm only sitting right here in - Oh. My. FUCKING. BIG MAN IN THE SKY."
I swear, I almost vomited right then and there in that huge purple velveteen bed. I had been dressed in some... Some... LACEY FRILLY NIGHTGOWN! I gagged for a moment, trying to get my heart to beat once more. I slammed my fist over my heart harshly, and my heart started it's normal, regular, I'm-not-in-a-lacey-disgusting-frilly-piece-of-shit-right-now routine of beating.
"Where in the HELL are my clothes?!" I demanded, and then it hit me...
"WHERE ARE MY DOCS?!" I practically wailed.
Much to my utter and complete horror, the old dude laughed at me some more, "You have quite a colorful tongue, my child."
I narrowed my eyes dangerously, "I'm not YOUR child. I demand you release my shoes from captivity, and inform me as to where I am currently deposited. I had no idea such a place existed in England."
"Relax, child," the male model soothed, and I turned my scathing glare towards him, "Your unnatural footwear is safe. It is being cleaned, as are your clothes. As for the matter of this... England... I know not of that kingdom. You are in Rivendell at the moment, however. I am Elrond, Lord of Rivendell."
Upon further inspection... I noticed the male model had... Pointy... Ears? I twitched slightly, running my hands absentmindedly through my black hair.
"Alright," I said, turning my gaze towards the old man once more, "I've gathered that you people are lying out your bloomin' arses, Agent Elrond over there is donning synthetic ears, and furthermore... YOU BASTARDS ARE HOLDING MY SHOES CAPTIVE."
A muscle in Agent Elrond's jaw twitched, "I assure you that we are not lying."
I raised an eyebrow, turning my glance towards the old man, "Alright, Scottie. Let's have it. Where in England AM I? I mean, you've obviously taken me to some unmarked cult for people with a fake-ear fetish. And honestly, I mean, I'd gladly stay here and all if I didn't have to go to school to learn an education and everything, but... I mean, come ON. You actually expect me to believe I'm in some place from a child's bedtime story called Rivendell? By the way, I don't take kindly to people holding my Docs captive. Now then, you two old people need to go gallivanting off and gather the rest of your cult, and kindly send me back home. I'd greatly appreciate it. Well, not really, but I'll pretend for your sake."
The old man sighed, and rubbed his head, "What shall convince you that we are not lying?"
"Hum-ho. Let us see," I mumbled, "Yes, preciousss... Old people, they be tricksey, they are... Tricksey old people... Ah! Yes, Gollum, Gollum!"
The old man was staring at me in horror, "Still your tongue, child! Do you dare to imitate that creature in the halls of Rivendell!?"
I raised an eyebrow, "Look, dah-ling. As much as I'd love to believe that I'm in Middle-Earth, sitting in a bed in Rivendell, which would also be known as Imladris... I'd also like to stop playing games. I mean, you've taken it a bit far with gluing fake ear-tips onto Agent 'Elrond's ears. And I wont deny that you look remarkably like Gandalf Grayhame, but this is just outrageous. I want to go HOME. Actually, I take that back - I don't want to go home - I want a VERY strong drink, and THEN I want to go to the library."
'Gandalf' was gaping at me now, "How did you know of my name?"
I sighed, rubbing my head, "Look guys, this has gone too far. Please, can I just go home?"
"Once again..." 'Gandalf' repeated, shaking his head, "What shall it take you to convince you that this is not some petty game to deceive you?"
Rolling my eyes, I swung my legs over the side of the bed, and stood. In an incredibly confident state, I sauntered over to the one who thought him self to be Lord Elrond, and stared up at him coldly. I saw him flinch and I smirked mentally. With an utmost confidant air, I raised my hand, and tapped one of his ear-tips. To be completely honest, they felt REAL. 'Elrond' was surveying me with an incredibly shocked look on his face.
Ignoring his look, I proceeded to inspect the prosthetic ear-tip. I gently rubbed the pad of my index finger over the point, and then slid it down a bit, prodding gently as I went. Amazingly, there were absolutely no seams whatsoever. I bit my bottom lip, and tugged lightly on the tip... And then almost screamed my head off. Instead, I was backing away in shock. I didn't stop until my legs collided with the bed.
"You... You... You..." I stuttered, pointing at Elrond, and then at Gandalf, "You really aren't shittin' me, are you?"
And then, my eyes rolled back in my head, and I passed out.
+
Hi, Silver here. Please let me know what you think, and even if it's worth continuing. I've heard the term 'Mary-Sue' before, and I'm hoping that this story WON'T turn out this way... But it might... *exasperated sigh* Sauron, Satan, and Lucifer! Just REVIEW me! ...Please?
--Silver
************
Hello, everyone. This is my first ficlet. I hope that you like it, and if you don't, I'll take it down so you shall not have to suffer with this disgusting piece of literature on your site.
Disclaimer:
I must warn you - Nothing in this ficlet belongs to be, other than the things that you do not recognize as J.R.R. Tolkien's. I do not write like him, and if you are hoping that this piece of fiction shall come even close to the magnificence of Tolkien's work; I am sorry to say that you are sadly mistaken.
--Silent Silver
************
Chapter Three: Male Models, Old Dudes, and Rivendell, Oh MY!
I groaned, and sat up in bed abruptly, hissing angrily at the sharp pain in my head. Bed...? I don't have a...
"AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, and stared with wide eyes around the room, my breath coming in short, quick gasps.
The room was nothing short of ethereal. The walls were a soft beige color, and around the room, purple accents complimented the wall color. There was a gigantic mahogany wardrobe resting inconspicuously in a far corner of the room, and in the opposite corner, there was a vanity, complete with it's own purple-cushioned chair. Moving on, I noticed yet another doorway, half opened, and half-confirmed this room to be a bathroom. Flitting my eyes to the brightest part of the room, I noticed that there was an enormous sliding glass door, which led out onto a magnificent balcony. However, the balcony was not quite what had astounded me so - Rather, it was the view outside. Beyond the balcony, one could see a magnificent waterfall, and a garden below, flourishing with green plants.
Honestly, I must have been too caught up in my ogling of my surroundings to notice a rather tall old man sitting at the edge of my bed. When my withering coal-black gaze met with the kind gray eyes of this man... Did it ensure calmness and a serene peace over all? Let's try again.
"WHAT THE MOTHERFUCKING HELL?!" I demanded, pointing at the man, and then gesturing around the room, "WHY THE FUCK AM I HERE?! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT WITH ME? IF YOU KIDNAPPED ME YOU OLD FART, YOU AREN'T GETTING ANY MONEY! NOBODY WANTS ME BACK, FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"
Much to my unvanquished horror, the old bastard started laughing. No, not just a soft chuckle... No, not even an illicit stream of giggles. Noooo! It had to be a FULL OUT I-am-so-laughing-my-royally-old-and-wrinkled-ass-off- at-you kind of laughing! I gaped at the old guy, staring up at him with an evil look that just screamed 'How dare you laugh your old and wrinkled ass off at me!'. A muscle in my jaw twitched, and the door opened soundlessly. I was too busy pointing at the old dude and stuttering a colorful string of curses that could make a sailor blush to notice, however.
"Ah," said a smooth male voice, "I see that she has awakened."
I whipped my head around swiftly, and I could've sworn I heard a 'crack' when I did so. I narrowed my eyes dangerously as I glared at the new intruder. He looked disgustingly and unnervingly perfect, perhaps even more so than the girls at the academy. To be perfectly honest, he was the image of a male model. I growled slightly in disgust. Fuck, now all I needed was someone to dye my hair blonde and put make-up on me, and this would be the most horrifying nightmare I had bared witness to.
"Apparently," the old man chuckled, tugging on his silvery beard, "Yes, she has."
I crossed my arms over my chest, and glared at each of them sternly, "It's okay. You can talk about me. I'm only sitting right here in - Oh. My. FUCKING. BIG MAN IN THE SKY."
I swear, I almost vomited right then and there in that huge purple velveteen bed. I had been dressed in some... Some... LACEY FRILLY NIGHTGOWN! I gagged for a moment, trying to get my heart to beat once more. I slammed my fist over my heart harshly, and my heart started it's normal, regular, I'm-not-in-a-lacey-disgusting-frilly-piece-of-shit-right-now routine of beating.
"Where in the HELL are my clothes?!" I demanded, and then it hit me...
"WHERE ARE MY DOCS?!" I practically wailed.
Much to my utter and complete horror, the old dude laughed at me some more, "You have quite a colorful tongue, my child."
I narrowed my eyes dangerously, "I'm not YOUR child. I demand you release my shoes from captivity, and inform me as to where I am currently deposited. I had no idea such a place existed in England."
"Relax, child," the male model soothed, and I turned my scathing glare towards him, "Your unnatural footwear is safe. It is being cleaned, as are your clothes. As for the matter of this... England... I know not of that kingdom. You are in Rivendell at the moment, however. I am Elrond, Lord of Rivendell."
Upon further inspection... I noticed the male model had... Pointy... Ears? I twitched slightly, running my hands absentmindedly through my black hair.
"Alright," I said, turning my gaze towards the old man once more, "I've gathered that you people are lying out your bloomin' arses, Agent Elrond over there is donning synthetic ears, and furthermore... YOU BASTARDS ARE HOLDING MY SHOES CAPTIVE."
A muscle in Agent Elrond's jaw twitched, "I assure you that we are not lying."
I raised an eyebrow, turning my glance towards the old man, "Alright, Scottie. Let's have it. Where in England AM I? I mean, you've obviously taken me to some unmarked cult for people with a fake-ear fetish. And honestly, I mean, I'd gladly stay here and all if I didn't have to go to school to learn an education and everything, but... I mean, come ON. You actually expect me to believe I'm in some place from a child's bedtime story called Rivendell? By the way, I don't take kindly to people holding my Docs captive. Now then, you two old people need to go gallivanting off and gather the rest of your cult, and kindly send me back home. I'd greatly appreciate it. Well, not really, but I'll pretend for your sake."
The old man sighed, and rubbed his head, "What shall convince you that we are not lying?"
"Hum-ho. Let us see," I mumbled, "Yes, preciousss... Old people, they be tricksey, they are... Tricksey old people... Ah! Yes, Gollum, Gollum!"
The old man was staring at me in horror, "Still your tongue, child! Do you dare to imitate that creature in the halls of Rivendell!?"
I raised an eyebrow, "Look, dah-ling. As much as I'd love to believe that I'm in Middle-Earth, sitting in a bed in Rivendell, which would also be known as Imladris... I'd also like to stop playing games. I mean, you've taken it a bit far with gluing fake ear-tips onto Agent 'Elrond's ears. And I wont deny that you look remarkably like Gandalf Grayhame, but this is just outrageous. I want to go HOME. Actually, I take that back - I don't want to go home - I want a VERY strong drink, and THEN I want to go to the library."
'Gandalf' was gaping at me now, "How did you know of my name?"
I sighed, rubbing my head, "Look guys, this has gone too far. Please, can I just go home?"
"Once again..." 'Gandalf' repeated, shaking his head, "What shall it take you to convince you that this is not some petty game to deceive you?"
Rolling my eyes, I swung my legs over the side of the bed, and stood. In an incredibly confident state, I sauntered over to the one who thought him self to be Lord Elrond, and stared up at him coldly. I saw him flinch and I smirked mentally. With an utmost confidant air, I raised my hand, and tapped one of his ear-tips. To be completely honest, they felt REAL. 'Elrond' was surveying me with an incredibly shocked look on his face.
Ignoring his look, I proceeded to inspect the prosthetic ear-tip. I gently rubbed the pad of my index finger over the point, and then slid it down a bit, prodding gently as I went. Amazingly, there were absolutely no seams whatsoever. I bit my bottom lip, and tugged lightly on the tip... And then almost screamed my head off. Instead, I was backing away in shock. I didn't stop until my legs collided with the bed.
"You... You... You..." I stuttered, pointing at Elrond, and then at Gandalf, "You really aren't shittin' me, are you?"
And then, my eyes rolled back in my head, and I passed out.
+
Hi, Silver here. Please let me know what you think, and even if it's worth continuing. I've heard the term 'Mary-Sue' before, and I'm hoping that this story WON'T turn out this way... But it might... *exasperated sigh* Sauron, Satan, and Lucifer! Just REVIEW me! ...Please?
--Silver