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Marileangorifurnimaluim · 05-01-2003, 11:18 AM

A small, unassuming pony trap rolled into position at the end of the red carpet. Out of it stepped a plump hobbit, wearing an embroidered waistcoat with polished brass buttons. He daintily flicked a bit of lint off his sleeve, and then with a languid gesture, assisted his date down from the carriage.

She wore a rather badly-fitting shield-maiden’s breastplate and her legs were a thin, pallid white under her short studded-leather skit. She tugged down at it awkwardly as though she could make the skirt a little longer by doing so. A weighty shield dragged at her bare arms. She was rather short for a shield-maiden, barely a foot taller than her guest, despite the lace-up leather high-heeled boots. Oddest of all, she wore horn-rimmed spectacles. She shyly clutched a small backpack, and veered nervously towards her date when she took in the crowd. The scabbard at her hip hung empty. Clearly she had heard the ‘no weapons’ rule.

This had better work, Maril hissed under her breath. I feel ridiculous!

Nonsense, you look wooonderful, Trenton Hornblower murmurred as he beamed at the cameras. Maril knew he was completely full of it, and rolled her eyes as Trent basked in the glow of the limelight. He waved jauntily at a crowd that largely ignored him, and gave Joan a broad wink.

I’m going to make the worst-dressed list, Maril moaned.

She coughed at the fumes of the (orange? red? green?) jalopy which veered to their left, clearly having difficulty finding its way out of the parking lot. Everything was cordoned off, orange pylons overturned and the route was confused already. A few of the Uruk-hai were wearing pylons as hats. Another chewed absently on his.

Hmm. The Uruks are good fighters, but you can’t count on them for discipline, Maril thought, briefly thankful she didn’t have to organize this party.

Dr Marileangorifurnimaluim cringed, and prayed she could make it to the end of the runway with the remaining shards of her dignity intact. At the moment this seemed vastly more important than not being recognized by the irate Garden Club.

- Maril

[ May 01, 2003: Message edited by: Marileangorifurnimaluim ]

05-01-2003, 11:18 AM	#49
Marileangorifurnimaluim Eerie Forest Spectre Join Date: Nov 2001 Location: Buried in scrolls of fanfiction Posts: 798	A small, unassuming pony trap rolled into position at the end of the red carpet. Out of it stepped a plump hobbit, wearing an embroidered waistcoat with polished brass buttons. He daintily flicked a bit of lint off his sleeve, and then with a languid gesture, assisted his date down from the carriage. She wore a rather badly-fitting shield-maiden’s breastplate and her legs were a thin, pallid white under her short studded-leather skit. She tugged down at it awkwardly as though she could make the skirt a little longer by doing so. A weighty shield dragged at her bare arms. She was rather short for a shield-maiden, barely a foot taller than her guest, despite the lace-up leather high-heeled boots. Oddest of all, she wore horn-rimmed spectacles. She shyly clutched a small backpack, and veered nervously towards her date when she took in the crowd. The scabbard at her hip hung empty. Clearly she had heard the ‘no weapons’ rule. This had better work, Maril hissed under her breath. I feel ridiculous! Nonsense, you look wooonderful, Trenton Hornblower murmurred as he beamed at the cameras. Maril knew he was completely full of it, and rolled her eyes as Trent basked in the glow of the limelight. He waved jauntily at a crowd that largely ignored him, and gave Joan a broad wink. I’m going to make the worst-dressed list, Maril moaned. She coughed at the fumes of the (orange? red? green?) jalopy which veered to their left, clearly having difficulty finding its way out of the parking lot. Everything was cordoned off, orange pylons overturned and the route was confused already. A few of the Uruk-hai were wearing pylons as hats. Another chewed absently on his. Hmm. The Uruks are good fighters, but you can’t count on them for discipline, Maril thought, briefly thankful she didn’t have to organize this party. Dr Marileangorifurnimaluim cringed, and prayed she could make it to the end of the runway with the remaining shards of her dignity intact. At the moment this seemed vastly more important than not being recognized by the irate Garden Club. - Maril [ May 01, 2003: Message edited by: Marileangorifurnimaluim ] __________________ Deserves death! I daresay he does... And some die that deserve life. Can you give it to them?