Eep, so sorry about the lack of updates. This chapter has been written for
almost a week now, but I needed something to go along with it because
it was almost as long as the authors note at the beginning. -_-; So I was
working on the next one, I got distracted by Quizzilla(almost finished with
my quiz! Yay!), finishing watching Gundam Wing and Endless Waltz, RPing
and just a load of crap. Really sorry. In my defense, all of this other stuff
has given me a brillient idea(thanks, Kat) that I will use in here...much
later. ^^;
Sorry for the delay.
Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own either of the series I am playing with here.
Ed: *eyes get really big* ..................................................... ^_^
You reviewed every chapter. Every chapter.
Like Lisa. But I think she does that because she's my friend and nice...
Anyway, the movie? I liked it. Faramir was hott and Pippin sang. ^^
I agree, Denethor was a prick.
A softball? No, can't say I have. Neither with a hocky stick. Never used a
hockey stick, actually.
I'm fine, thanks, the lacross incident actually got me out of English(a plus,
but I would have rather it had been science or math).
It was pretty funny, truthfully, because we were doing lacross just for
one day, and the night before I had been reading this ff.net story about
lacross...
Lisa: ^_^ Thanks for the review! As I said above, you review
EVERYTHING! On Kat's stories also!*hugs*
***
October 29, South Gondor
"No idea."
A figure slowly trudged up the Harad Road, dark brown windswept hair
blending in against his coat of a similar color.
He carried a satchel of provisions over one shoulder: Elvish waybread,
dried fruit and meat, a pouch of fresh river water.
His lean body moved with the well toned efficiency of a warrior, deep blue
eyes taking in all that moved.
His clothing was dark, shades of brown and gray, patched and worn from
many years of hard use. Long dark pants, dust covered and faded were
worn with a thin shirt, tucked in and sleeveless.
Under a thick patched cloak, a nessessity in this day and age, there
swung a long black scabbard, inclosed within there lay a sword; silver
blade tainted with blood.
There were no other visable weapons, but if you looked closely, there
were concealed daggers and throwing knives, hidden under a layer of
clothes; up a sleeve, in a pocket, in the cuff of his pants.
No humans lived in this desert land in which he traveled. That suited him,
he wasn't comfortable being seen. It wasn't that he was up to no good,
but that he simply didn't enjoy being around others.
It was nice to be alone.
His mouth formed again the words that had left it only seconds earlier.
No idea.
That was true. He didn't have any idea.
He was traveling northwest, with no idea why.
Well, that wasn't completely true. He did have an idea.
A foolish idea.
He was Heero Yuy. One of the last of the Dúnedain, this automatically
making him a man of war. He was well trained, intelligent, not one to fall
for foolish tricks or silly imaginings.
And yet, here he was. Traveling hundred of miles, chasing after a vague
dream.
Not a dream, an idea.
***
*looks up* Damn, that's short. O_o;;
Reviews feed an authors mind and make then write longer chapters! ^^
almost a week now, but I needed something to go along with it because
it was almost as long as the authors note at the beginning. -_-; So I was
working on the next one, I got distracted by Quizzilla(almost finished with
my quiz! Yay!), finishing watching Gundam Wing and Endless Waltz, RPing
and just a load of crap. Really sorry. In my defense, all of this other stuff
has given me a brillient idea(thanks, Kat) that I will use in here...much
later. ^^;
Sorry for the delay.
Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own either of the series I am playing with here.
Ed: *eyes get really big* ..................................................... ^_^
You reviewed every chapter. Every chapter.
Like Lisa. But I think she does that because she's my friend and nice...
Anyway, the movie? I liked it. Faramir was hott and Pippin sang. ^^
I agree, Denethor was a prick.
A softball? No, can't say I have. Neither with a hocky stick. Never used a
hockey stick, actually.
I'm fine, thanks, the lacross incident actually got me out of English(a plus,
but I would have rather it had been science or math).
It was pretty funny, truthfully, because we were doing lacross just for
one day, and the night before I had been reading this ff.net story about
lacross...
Lisa: ^_^ Thanks for the review! As I said above, you review
EVERYTHING! On Kat's stories also!*hugs*
***
October 29, South Gondor
"No idea."
A figure slowly trudged up the Harad Road, dark brown windswept hair
blending in against his coat of a similar color.
He carried a satchel of provisions over one shoulder: Elvish waybread,
dried fruit and meat, a pouch of fresh river water.
His lean body moved with the well toned efficiency of a warrior, deep blue
eyes taking in all that moved.
His clothing was dark, shades of brown and gray, patched and worn from
many years of hard use. Long dark pants, dust covered and faded were
worn with a thin shirt, tucked in and sleeveless.
Under a thick patched cloak, a nessessity in this day and age, there
swung a long black scabbard, inclosed within there lay a sword; silver
blade tainted with blood.
There were no other visable weapons, but if you looked closely, there
were concealed daggers and throwing knives, hidden under a layer of
clothes; up a sleeve, in a pocket, in the cuff of his pants.
No humans lived in this desert land in which he traveled. That suited him,
he wasn't comfortable being seen. It wasn't that he was up to no good,
but that he simply didn't enjoy being around others.
It was nice to be alone.
His mouth formed again the words that had left it only seconds earlier.
No idea.
That was true. He didn't have any idea.
He was traveling northwest, with no idea why.
Well, that wasn't completely true. He did have an idea.
A foolish idea.
He was Heero Yuy. One of the last of the Dúnedain, this automatically
making him a man of war. He was well trained, intelligent, not one to fall
for foolish tricks or silly imaginings.
And yet, here he was. Traveling hundred of miles, chasing after a vague
dream.
Not a dream, an idea.
***
*looks up* Damn, that's short. O_o;;
Reviews feed an authors mind and make then write longer chapters! ^^