paradisa | [dictated/action] A Hobbit and his ramblings

[Bilbo thinks of what to say before scratching his quill onto his journal, as he's sitting under the large bows of a tree. He's outside once more, as he finds himself becoming a constant visitor the castle's grounds. The large tree just outside the castle walls is one of his favourite sitting spots. For either writing, reading or just relaxing. He is happy because Thorin has joined him within the castle. Now, he has more people from his own world. Something, this hobbit is pleased about.]

A curious question if you like, regarding the castle and it's choice of who it places inside it's walls. Thorin Oakenshield, my dwarf friend, has recently been brought here by the castle's choice. Did it know that I was thinking of having dwarven company? Or is the selection random? I am wondering if the castle knows what we are thinking all the time.

As if, it knows what I am writing at this very moment and is thinking of ways to sate my thoughts. Does the castle have an intelligence of some kind? I am just curious if anyone else thinks the same thing as me.

Or am I just rambling on like an old hobbit? My father would say I've had too much to drink and my mind starts rabbiting on about useless ideas. If someone thinks about having a friend or family member here, do they suddenly appear? As if by magic? [Bilbo stared at the page of his journal, before looking up at the moving clouds above.]

Well, that's about it. Another ramble by this hobbit and I hope someone can give me some feedback on my curiosity.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I beg your pardon?

[Joel spends most of his time sleeping or resisting the urge to vomit up the rich food he forces down, but every once in a while he looks at the journals. He looks at the journals and he thinks about life and stuff.]

You're a hobbit, huh?

Yes, I'm a hobbit. There is more than one of me roaming around the castle you know. Frodo Baggins, he's my cousin. [Bilbo stared up at the rough man. He looked like he'd been through a war by the scars and dirt on him.]

[He has vague memories of those hobbit books, or something like that, but he never really ran with that crowd when he was a kid. Needless to say he hasn't thought about fantasy as a genre in a long time.]

Right. [The driest. He appears to be flat-out rejecting the concept that he's speaking to a hobbit, though he knows what the castle does. Call it a defense mechanism.] Yeah, sorry about that. I'm still sorta new.

[Not the most enthusiastic apology, but there you go.]

That's alright. Perfectly understandable actually. [He nodded and offered the man a small smile. He did look rather rough and intimidating compared to Bilbo, who was a small, squishy hobbit.]

What's your name? If you don't mind me asking.

Joel.

[Well, now he knows that hobbits are polite little people. Good to know. He forces himself to adjust, slowly, crossing his arms over his chest and giving the little guy a closer look.

He spares a small nod in return.]

You didn't mention your own.

Bilbo Baggins, of Bag End. [Yes, he is always proud to mention his name and where he is from. Being the proud hobbit he is.]

How long have you been within the castle, Joel? If you don't mind me asking.

[He just stares, rubs his forehead a little. Bilbo Baggins of Bad End. He's having flashbacks all the way back to High School, the lunch table group that played Dungeons and Dragons or some shit.

Fucking bizarre.]

About two weeks, a little more. How about yourself?

[dictated/action] A Hobbit and his ramblings

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