The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum - View Single Post - The Revenge of the Entish Bow

Bêthberry · 02-15-2003, 10:29 AM

The Voyage Out

A crashingly adventurous sound broke heroically through the tumult of the trees. Then, a swayingly swinging grapevine swung down, ridden by a lithe, long-limbed, long-fingered , long-haired non-gender-specific vision of pulchritudinous pleasantness whose long locks trailed clouds of Gloréal hues.

As the grapevine plummeted to its precipitant perigee, the apparition of pulchritude which rode it reached out to take up into his arms luxuriatingly the lovely and luscious Pimiowyn, intending to comfort her of her fears. The vine shuddered and spread itself thin, thin, and thinner until finally it broke, dropping somewhat unceremoniously the half-hobbit and her elven hero onto Vogonwë, who had promptly cast off his webbed thoughts and given chase to retrieve his darling. For a long, long moment there was a tumble and a tussle amongst the three on the ground as the elven hero grouped indiscriminately in search of something.

'Oh pardon me, forgive me. The things I have seen I now can see no more. I cannot tell a sparrow from a finch a league off without my Foster Grants. I saw that you have been pursuing the peatmossed pediments and purloining puffballs and wondered mayhap if perchance you had found them. And I heard the darlingly dear maiden speak of her tremulous trepitation and so I risked relieving her of her perilous position.'

"My pardon, gracious lady. 'Twas but my natural piety which strove to ensure that your glory would not pass away from this earth."

Pimpiowyn's ears reddened and her cheeks flushed with excitement at her close encounter with this most winsome elf and she allowed herself more than a single thought about winning some. Vogonwe's protective posturing was abated, however, as he took a closer look at the pouncing hero.

"I'll be!" he cried.

"You'll be what?" answered the elf, squinting his eye towards the other vision of loveliness which had bespoke him.

"It's you. O Lando L'oréal Bloom. Third cousin Bloom," ejaculated Vogonwë with confounded cupidity.

Bloom submitted the voice to the gaze and amazement rose in his eyes.

"Oh pishpash. Behold the light and the vision splendid. My nature yet remembers what was so fugitive. It is Third cousin Vogonwë, thrice removed from Workmud. What thoughts that too often lie too deep for tears have brought you back here, to a forest of one's own?"

[ February 15, 2003: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

02-15-2003, 10:29 AM	#103
Bêthberry Cryptic Aura Join Date: May 2002 Posts: 6,003	The Voyage Out A crashingly adventurous sound broke heroically through the tumult of the trees. Then, a swayingly swinging grapevine swung down, ridden by a lithe, long-limbed, long-fingered , long-haired non-gender-specific vision of pulchritudinous pleasantness whose long locks trailed clouds of Gloréal hues. As the grapevine plummeted to its precipitant perigee, the apparition of pulchritude which rode it reached out to take up into his arms luxuriatingly the lovely and luscious Pimiowyn, intending to comfort her of her fears. The vine shuddered and spread itself thin, thin, and thinner until finally it broke, dropping somewhat unceremoniously the half-hobbit and her elven hero onto Vogonwë, who had promptly cast off his webbed thoughts and given chase to retrieve his darling. For a long, long moment there was a tumble and a tussle amongst the three on the ground as the elven hero grouped indiscriminately in search of something. 'Oh pardon me, forgive me. The things I have seen I now can see no more. I cannot tell a sparrow from a finch a league off without my Foster Grants. I saw that you have been pursuing the peatmossed pediments and purloining puffballs and wondered mayhap if perchance you had found them. And I heard the darlingly dear maiden speak of her tremulous trepitation and so I risked relieving her of her perilous position.' "My pardon, gracious lady. 'Twas but my natural piety which strove to ensure that your glory would not pass away from this earth." Pimpiowyn's ears reddened and her cheeks flushed with excitement at her close encounter with this most winsome elf and she allowed herself more than a single thought about winning some. Vogonwe's protective posturing was abated, however, as he took a closer look at the pouncing hero. "I'll be!" he cried. "You'll be what?" answered the elf, squinting his eye towards the other vision of loveliness which had bespoke him. "It's you. O Lando L'oréal Bloom. Third cousin Bloom," ejaculated Vogonwë with confounded cupidity. Bloom submitted the voice to the gaze and amazement rose in his eyes. "Oh pishpash. Behold the light and the vision splendid. My nature yet remembers what was so fugitive. It is Third cousin Vogonwë, thrice removed from Workmud. What thoughts that too often lie too deep for tears have brought you back here, to a forest of one's own?" [ February 15, 2003: Message edited by: Bethberry ] __________________ I’ll sing his roots off. I’ll sing a wind up and blow leaf and branch away.