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#3 |
Spirit of Mist
Join Date: Jul 2000
Location: Tol Eressea
Posts: 3,394
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Piosenniel's Post
'I don't suppose we're allowed to bite anyone, are we?' Carchmoroth raised his head languidly from his crossed paws and regarded his son for a moment. His yellow eyes flicked to where Pio stood shoving her leotard in her bag. 'If it were up to me, I'd say yes, but you'ld better ask her.' 'No violence in the Hall, sweets.' came the reply. 'The admins won't like it.' She turned and grinned at the despondent Warg. 'However, once they've left the building, they're fair game.' *+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+ *+* The Shire taxi service picked her up precisely at 3. She took her laptop with her on the long ride. There were 3 new RPG's to be put on the board and the mad dutchman's was still in revision. +++ Email to Mithadan: I wasn't kidding about that cruise. I think it should be a perq for the mods. ~~ Pio +++ *+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+ *+* 'We're here, Miss.' Halfred Whitfoot opened the door and fished her equipment bag from the trunk. 'Pick me up at 9, then,' she said counting out 5 silver pennies into his outstretched hand. 'Come, gentlemen,' she said over her shoulder to the two great Wolves, who loped along silently behind her. 'We've got five hours today to whip those dancers into shape.' *+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+ *+* [b]. . . 5 . snap! . 6 . snap! . a - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 . . .[/i] Pio put the Halfling chorus line through their paces. They weren't perfect, but that could be solved by an open bar as the guests entered. That and lowering the lights. The two Wolves sat in the shadows of the stage curtain, ticking off the toothsome qualities of each of the dancers. The smell of sweat and cheap perfume mingled pleasurably in their nostrils. 'Should be nice and tired after the performance, don't you think?' Dúgoroth looked approvingly at Pio as she pushed the dancers through their routine again. 'Yesss,' said Carchmoroth, grinning a toothsome smile. His sharp, yellowed fangs glinted in the harsh stage light. 'Perhaps we should wait by the stage door after their last number.' He curled his lips back in a wider grin as on of the Hobbits tripped over her partner. 'That one's mine!' he growled low, watching her wince as her ample ankle bent under her weight. *+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+ *+* 'Take 5!' The dancers slumped to the floor in unison, muttering under their breath. Pio shrugged off the comments, she was used to them from her time in the Shire. Wiping her brow with a towel, she walked over to where the wolves sat, and plopped down beside them. 'Did you notice the carpet he's ordered, Pio?' Carchmoroth nudged her arm with his muzzle, pointing to the rolls of carpet ready to lay out on the runway. 'Mmmm . . . blood red, eh?! Right up your alley.' She scratched the grizzled brow of the great beast beside her, and took a long pull at her water bottle. 'Outside the building, though. Agreed?' 'Agreed,' came the reluctant reply, as she rose and whistled sharply for the dancers to line up again. 'One more hour, ladies and gentlemen! And I'll have you hoofing like Fosse . . .' By the One! The budget for this party can't be that small. Where did Mithadan find these rejects . . . ?!
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Beleriand, Beleriand, the borders of the Elven-land. |
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