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Author Topic: The Gift of Distraction  (Read 4439 times)

Bofur

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The Gift of Distraction
« on: December 23, 2014, 04:19:00 PM »
Bofur was last that day, only just harnessed securely on to the line and barely thinking about the ground dropping away below him. He knew the bottom wasn’t that far down, not yet – he could still see it, and considering the feeble light from the lanterns the miners carried that meant it was pretty close. Even if it had been only inky blankness below, the drama of being hung over a seemingly bottomless pit faded after a few years.

 They had been in a fairly quiet area of the tunnels, carving coal out of the walls. The seam wasn’t all that rich so it didn’t have the greatest access tunnels – this was the quickest way; a wide shaft that they had to be hauled up on a chain. A thinner chain than the buckets of coal got, though the last of them was disappearing above him. They went faster, the dwarf who had been hanging them on the chain hitching a ride on the final one. Not safe, but fast. Bofur could sympathise – it seemed to take forever to get out of the darkness after a long shift.

 He shifted his weight slightly, trying not to swing the chain but eager to readjust the straps slightly. They were cutting through his thick clothes and into his back. It was difficult enough, with a mattock taking one hand and the other clasped reassuringly around the cold chain. Wouldn’t help much if his harness wasn’t secured properly or the chain broke, but it felt like it did.

 A faint tremor came down the chain and the miner wondered how far up it had come from – the lad just above him was young, inexperienced, could have been him getting unbalanced somehow. Or it could have been someone at the top narrowly escaping getting themselves tangled in the pulley.

 With a sigh – he didn’t know the lad above and echoes bounced in here, making it hard to have a conversation with someone unless you could reliably guess half of what they were saying – Bofur leaned back and glanced down (they must have been going slowly; the floor below was still in sight). Well, this was taking forever and a day.


(#612800)

Ori

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The Gift of Distraction
« Reply #1 on: January 02, 2015, 11:11:00 PM »
It was five months of working in the tunnels, yet why did Ori flinch imperceptibly every time he went down into the cavern walls, and hold on to the chain with a little more strength than the rest of the seasoned workers would? At least his arm had learned to keep a mattock up without making him tremble from the effort, and now he turned the handle in his hand absently white balancing himself. It was one way to keep himself calm while going down this particular shaft--something in him told him this was not a good place to be.

The trouble began when they began pulling the miners up and Ori’s eyes were up, eagerly hoping to get out of that desolate hole they worked at, and for some reason, something fell into his eye. His grip on the chain lessened just a little, but by adjusting the mattock to be in the crease of his elbow, he could at least manage a full hold on the chain, and stop both him and the mattock from falling. It did, however, slam his harness and made a noise Ori did not like in the least, so he shifted his position so he once again could grab on to his mattock and the chain separately--and the strain on the now weak harness did not account for it.

He could feel the harness giving way at first, and his instinct was to drop the mattock--and it barely missed whoever was below him!--and try hold on with a squeal. Whoever was had been before him realized what was going on, and began calling out in Khûzdul to see if he was fine. “I’m--slipping! The harness--!” was the last thing he said before his dusty gloved hands slid down the chain unceremoniously, and he cried out a rude word in Khûzdul he had caught down here and would be enough of a pretext for Dori to ground him for a month.

He held on even more tightly so he did not fall on top of whoever was below him, and that slowed his descent. Was there any way to get back up without a harness? “Mah--” He tried to wrap his legs around the chain to try and make his way up, but a sharp edge cut into him and made him lose his legs’ grip. “Hold...Ori!” was faintly heard above, but it was past time for a rescue. The pull of the earth caused him to tumble down the shaft, and he narrowly missed the dwarf below him.

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Bofur

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The Gift of Distraction
« Reply #2 on: January 07, 2015, 03:11:00 PM »
The monotony was broken suddenly and Bofur immediately regretted regretting the boredom. It was only  because he was looking up, eyes squinting against the dust, that he saw the mattock start to fall – slowly as it slipped and then faster, tugged downwards relentlessly by the pull of gravity. The miner only just managed to get his shoulder out of the way and felt the air rush past as it barely missed him, a wordless yell escaping in shock. But words never escaped him for long – they came on the heels, in the same breath, before the swing of his movement was complete.

 “Are you-!?” Accusation or enquiry was lost as the figure above slid closer, rattling the chain. Khûzdul came from further up, and the echoes of the poor lad’s shout mixed around the gravelly words. The light-blocking bundle seemed to slow – Bofur readied himself to hang on; the boy was probably going to reach his level and if that happened he’d do his level best to keep him there. Mining had given him a fair amount of strength, even if he was no hulking brute – he could manage to hang on until they reached the top. Or more likely the bottom. It would be far quicker to reverse the chain’s direction and just get them back on the still-close solid ground below.

 “Slide down to me, I can-” His voice added to the confused cacophony.

 Whether it was the sliding down or the overall upwards movement of the chain, the dwarf above collided with a protruding part of the shaft. Oh, Mahal.

 Much like his mattock’s, his fall started slowly – almost drifting away from the chain for a split second before his weight sent him plunging faster and faster. Except unlike the tool, he was moving. One flailing arm brushed Bofur’s useless lunge for him – oh Mahal NO – the chain swinging him back too soon and continuing to pull him up (how long did it take to stop the stupid thing?) as the younger dwarf tumbled towards the ground. The light still reached it, just about, and a crack echoed louder than the voices as the bundle just stopped.

 The fall wasn’t so long that it had definitely killed him, but it wouldn’t have been surprising if it had. However there was still a chance – a decent chance – that the lad had survived, so Bofur cautiously yet quickly tucked his mattock away and carefully unhooked his harness, gripping the chain as tightly as he could. The chain shuddered to a stop and his knuckles went white beneath the gloves. Falling on top of the lad would do no good to either of them.

 Calls and questions of what had happened echoed around him, some of them callous demands to keep the chain moving. Bofur tried to raise his voice above them. “I’m climbing down. Go get a healer!” The message was passed up in fits and starts as he descended, careful to avoid getting tumbled off the line like the dwarf he was attempting to get to. Hand over hand, legs wrapped around it. Not looking down. It was almost a surprise when his feet hit the ground and he was glad to step out, lantern casting a brighter glow. The bundle of injured dwarf seemed all too terribly still for a moment, but then brown eyes caught the reassuring hints of breathing. Thank the Maker. For now.

 “I’m down, he’s alive! Now GO get a HEALER!”

 His gaze left the trail of lights hanging in the air, tracing the route upwards, and returned to the injured dwarf. His mattock and his lantern were unhooked and left on the ground – no use having them swing around him every time he moved. Behind him, the chain started moving again with a groan. They’d get the other miners up – one of those already up there would already have been sent for someone approaching a doctor. There were plenty around the mines. Enough accidents occurred to give them a steady trade.


 Bofur moved cautiously, as though half afraid that his approach would cause further harm. The breathing was still going strong. That was good. “Hello?” He crouched, wary of trying to move him just yet but placing a gloved hand on his shoulder. Moving the injured ones did cause more harm, a fair amount of the time. “Can you hear me, lad?”


(#612800)

Ori

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The Gift of Distraction
« Reply #3 on: January 08, 2015, 10:57:00 PM »
By some miracle, while Ori was hurled into the darkness of the shaft, blinded by the darkness and the fear, he lashed out an arm before him. The impact jolted the boy and sent out red hot pain all over him, especially up the arm he'd thrown so his face and head wouldn't be hit by the impact. It wasn't enough to stop his head from bouncing back and then hitting on the floor right after impact. Even in the sea of shadows surrounding him, it seemed that stars and colors appeared before his eyes, then he lost consciousness. It had been so sudden, the split second of fear in the descent had been sickeningly cut short by the hit to his head. The dwarf lay there breathing shallowly, out cold, and his worst fears  becoming true by the minute.

 A shadow slid down to his aid. The faint thud of the experienced miner's boots on the ground made no difference. Even unconscious, the boy opened his nouth instinctively as if moaning, but no sound came out. Something far too bright was shined into his eyes, and then Ori's eyes fluttered open. Before him was a dwarf unrecognizable between the glare of the lantern and the darkness enveloping them. Just the fact that Ori was breathing had the dwarf call out to the other miners up the shaft, “I’m down, he’s alive! Now GO get a HEALER!” The strength of the dwarf's voice made Ori wince. But now the silhouette of the dwarf made him instantly recognizable--the hat he wore, mostly. It was the kind Mr. Bofur that had shown him around on the first day of work.

 But just as his consciousness return, so did the pain. His entire right side had collided with the ground; he felt so very sore on that side. But even worse were the waves of pain coming back and forth around his arm and wrist. The throbbing heat in them was so nauseating, Ori felt bile rising in his throat. He clamped his own mouth shut with his good hand, but he could not stop tears from brimming in his eyes. His mind wandered to how pathetic he would look, for a moment, but right now he just wanted the pain to stop. It did help that the concussion blacked him out sometimes, and the bliss of unconsciousness almost helped with the pain. But the light of the lantern and the pain brought him rousing back. Tears poured from his eyes when he tried to move his arm. It was most definitely broken.

 “Hello?” A hand was placed on his shoulder, and Ori was reminded of Bofur's presence with him in the shaft. “Can you hear me, lad?” The older miner had crouched to take in his situation. He even placed a hand on Ori's shoulder to see if he was alright, but that delicate shake was still painful for the boy. Ori moaned; the tears may have been of pain but they could have been of anger, as well. Now he'd done it! Proved to everyone how weak and stupid he was, even if this was an accident. "My arm," Ori gasped. "It must be broken." And not just a bone in his arm! His right hand also felt like molten lead was being poured on it. No, it must have been his wrist. That he still lived may have been a miracle, but it hadn't spared him from the injuries of the fall. Oh, what was Dori going to say?

 With his good arm, the boy tried to prop himself upright. While he did prop himself on his back, it was very painful to do so, and he yelled in pain. "I'm s-sorry," he cried out to Bofur. "It hurts too much." But with more effort of his left arm, he could sit up on the ground without a sound. The pain only increased by the minute, and now it was swelling in a very concerning way. Ori tore off the glove of his hurt hand, and he could definitely see the misshapen bend of his wrist growing. At least I can still write...[/color] he tried to reassure himself, but it was of small comfort now when he was at the bottom of a coal mine shaft.

Just then another wave of pain hit him, and almost made him fall back on the floor; he propped himself with his good arm just in case his concussion gave him any more trouble.

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Bofur

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The Gift of Distraction
« Reply #4 on: January 16, 2015, 04:41:00 PM »
A pained noise and the glint of tears weren’t the best of signs, but at least they showed that he was conscious – Ori, his name was. Bofur had shown him the ropes on his first day. And he was Nori's little brother, which was still somewhat hard to believe. Painfully young, better off than most who turned their hands to mining and definitely a whole lot smarter. The hand attempting to muffle his own voice was a better sign – movement in his arms, good.

 “My arm. It must be broken.” Pained and gasping, but coherent. Bofur glanced at the injured limb – he’d probably landed on it. Definitely something wrong there, even through the thick coverings that mining required.

 “Looks like it,” he agreed. “Better that than your skull, though.” Probably not the wisest thing to say. Oh well.

 The younger miner made an effort to sit up and Bofur panicked momentarily, hands fluttering uselessly – that wasn’t going to end well, he shouldn’t – the wordless shout of pain confirmed his suspicions that lying down would probably be better for Ori’s health right now. Before the late recommendation that he not do that could be spoken, however, Ori kept talking. Apologising? Bofur gave an almost irritated shake of his head, brows drawing down. Sorry for what? “That’s what happens when you fall down a mineshaft. Which I’m assuming wasn’t intentional, so no apologies.” The younger miner had managed to sit up by now (good, his legs were working too) but Bofur made no effort to stop hovering anxiously, half sure that he was about to fall down. The sudden movement of the glove being torn off surprised him and he almost reminded him not to move too much again, but the swelling and clearly broken wrist made him hiss in sympathy instead.

 Then the younger dwarf seemed to almost collapse for a moment, catching himself on his good hand. Bofur moved a second behind, trying not to jolt too much as he wrapped a strong arm around his back. “For the record, sitting up probably wasn’t the best idea there.” He glanced around, trying to gauge where the wall behind them was nearest. The one the chains went up wasn’t ideal, since anything coming down would be doing so on top of them. “Alright, I’m going to drag you back to the wall so you’ve got something to lean against, seeing as you’re so intent on being vaguely vertical. If anything else starts hurting get me to stop, since moving you is likely to not help. Right?”


(#612800)

Ori

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The Gift of Distraction
« Reply #5 on: January 17, 2015, 10:17:00 PM »
Bofur, like any other hardened miner, didn’t comment much when Ori said that his arm was broken. “Looks like it. Better that than your skull, though.” And there was not much Ori could say to disagree with it. It was better...it just sounded a little insensitive. If anything, it made him reconsider how lucky he was to be alive. The tears, mostly from the raw pain and the shock, were stopping already. So he wiped them off in a hurry with his other hand, hoping nobody else but Bofur would see him so frail.

“That’s what happens when you fall down a mineshaft. Which I’m assuming wasn’t intentional, so no apologies.” The young dwarf may have been in pain, but it didn’t mean he didn’t have a sense humour. However, the shock may have contributed to him laughing rather too loudly when Bofur said so. Because...really, why would he throw himself into a mine shaft? His vision, even when aided by the lantern Bofur had brought with him, began to blur when he laughed. Was that worrisome? What seemed to be even worse was that every time he closed his eyes, it would take longer for his eyesight to recover. While he didn’t crack his skull...surely a concussion wouldn’t give his eyes any trouble?

“For the record, sitting up probably wasn’t the best idea there.” the commented Bofur, when he almost fell forwards. “Alright, I’m going to drag you back to the wall so you’ve got something to lean against, seeing as you’re so intent on being vaguely vertical. If anything else starts hurting get me to stop, since moving you is likely to not help. Right?” Ori sighed at the prospect of relief, and nodded. He really didn’t feel like speaking…

The young dwarf leaned against the wall, but when he relaxed at the support, he bit down a moan--he’d never hurt himself like this before, how was he going to take over two months of having a broken arm? Driven by this question, he turned to Bofur. “How long is it usually until they get someone down here?” Then, thinking about the uncomfortable days ahead in a cast, “I..am I going to be fired?” Well…Dori might be happy with that, and Ori himself did not really feel conflicted with the prospect of leaving the mines...and yet, how was he going to enter the Archives with a broken arm like a tossed aside broken toy?

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Bofur

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The Gift of Distraction
« Reply #6 on: February 02, 2015, 06:08:00 PM »
The laugh was too loud and toneless with shock, but it was a laugh all the same. A good thing, spurring a tight smile from Bofur as he continued. Taking Ori’s mind off the pain would help, and would make the time pass faster until help arrived.

 After the first flurries of words he seemed to have gone quiet, sticking to nodding and sighing. Bofur moved cautiously, checking throughout that the younger miner’s eyes were open and that he wasn’t spasming in pain. Besides the obvious – it wouldn’t be a very good sign if he couldn’t stay conscious – the toymaker didn’t want to be left alone to worry that at any second the breathing might stop.  

 They got to the wall without incident and Bofur eased the younger dwarf down with a murmured reassurance, wincing at the pained noise.

“How long is it usually until they get someone down here?” Bofur glanced at him for a moment, thinking. Wondering briefly how optimistic he should be – in all honesty, it could be hours. It would likely be less but it was a possibility. Another question came on the heels of the first, desolate and quiet – “I… Am I going to be fired?” Something of an odd thing to be worried about, considering the circumstances.

 Bofur winced and made a vague motion with one hand, easily reassuring. “To answer the first question, shouldn’t be more than an hour and it’ll probably be less – hard to say. As for the other, no, course not. Sure it was an accident. You won’t be allowed back until you’re healed but if you’re fit to work they’ll take you.” They’d take anyone who could swing a pickaxe without braining anyone to death. The older miner rocked to his feet, wandering back to pick up the lantern and move it closer. No one had appeared at the top of the shaft yet, and the chain had stopped moving. Brown eyes came back to Ori, one brow raised in curiosity. Why did he want to come back to this? It was back-breaking work and Nori had said his little brother was book-smart. What Bofur had seen of the lad confirmed that – he had a good brain in his head and opportunity to use it, why not do so? Plus, it wasn’t like he had a natural build for this sort of thing. “You’re awful concerned about mining for one who could do something else.”

((OOC: Do you hear that sound? That’s Bofur’s sheer blunt lack of tact smacking Ori in the face. I’m sorry.))


(#612800)

Ori

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The Gift of Distraction
« Reply #7 on: February 02, 2015, 09:50:00 PM »
The grizzled dwarf who was with him in the mining shaft with Ori would not have been his very first choice for the situation at hand, but it really didn’t seem so bad. He’d been more patient than most of the others who’d had to deal with the young scribe’s lack of experience, and after a few months of working together, Ori had eventually pieced the memories together and recalled how Bofur had also worked as a toymaker, and probably still did. So while there was no one in the mines that he really took to, he could at the very least say he respected Bofur.

And he was certainly not bad company. He was dismissive when Ori addressed him. “To answer the first question, shouldn’t be more than an hour and it’ll probably be less – hard to say.” Ori sighed, because it really helped to know that it would be at worst an hour - the dizzying pain of the arm break could be ignored, but there was probably a concussion too to take into account. Nothing else seemed to be wrong with him. Well, other than the dimming vision every once in a while...and it really didn’t help that they had the one lamp...

“As for the other, no, course not. Sure it was an accident. You won’t be allowed back until you’re healed but if you’re fit to work they’ll take you.” Another relief. Ori allowed himself to close his eyes - it was really becoming difficult to keep them open, on account of the terrible headache that had begun looming ever since falling down the shaft. Lucky for the resilience of Dwarves…[/color] he wondered. Well, Dori already wanted him to pull out of the mines, and this was a time to reconsider...

His companion seemed a little confused for a moment. His next words almost seemed like he had been reading Ori’s mind. “You’re awful concerned about mining for one who could do something else.” The remark jolted Ori out of his near unconsciousness, and stars seemed to disturb his vision, but Ori was a little more concerned over Bofur’s words. Well, that’s what they’re all thinking. You needn’t be so hurt by his words, he chastised himself, but it didn’t stop him from making a face. “I - it’s not a bad way to get money. Help out at home and all.” Just another pitiful excuse, since they paid well at the Archives too. “At least it’s a job a real Dwarf would have,” he muttered quietly, but not to Bofur.

It also did not help that he was fooling no one but himself. Was he really doomed to be looked down on for the rest of his life? Even if he picked something admirable to the eyes of Dwarves, Ori was fooling no one. Proof was the succinct comment on Bofur's part. Turning over this inedible piece of truth was as good for his as holding up his broken arm with the other one for what was going to be at least an hour. His mind mulled over the possibility of using his belt as some sort of sling while help came, but it was silly, anyways. Just like his life.

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Bofur

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The Gift of Distraction
« Reply #8 on: February 24, 2015, 02:10:00 PM »
Thankfully, the last comment seemed to wake Ori up from the thickening drowsiness that had closed his eyes. Good, because he couldn’t afford to go to sleep until a healer had had enough of a look at his head to make sure he’d wake up again. Relaxing – at least a bit – Bofur settled on the hard ground, stiff from a day of hard work. It could seem pretty cold down here once you stopped moving, but he was sick of standing.

 Unfortunately his probing comment appeared to have upset Ori a little, causing a grimace. Then again, who would smile so soon after breaking their wrist? He had laughed earlier, of course, but that was nervous and adrenaline-driven. There was little true mirth or amusement to be drawn from Ori’s predicament. “I - it’s not a bad way to get money. Help out at home and all.” Other things pay, too. Probably pay better. Bofur wouldn’t have questioned it, though. Helping out at home was an admirable objective; that was how he had started – he hadn’t had much of a choice, but he had always known he’d end up in his father’s profession and never protested it. It was as good a profession as any, and he still got to make toys if he wanted to. If that had been his job he supposed he might not have found it quite so fun, though he suspected he would have. The novelty of making children smile never really wore off. But anyway, it had never really been a realistic option, and Bofur didn’t particularly mind.

 Then the younger dwarf continued in a mutter and sort of wrecked his own argument. “At least it’s a job a real Dwarf would have.”

 What? Bofur’s face twisted in confusion, head tilting. For a moment no other words were forthcoming, just the question chiming insistently inside his head. What? What? What? “Lad… Really, what d’you mean by that? Mining’s no different to anything else. It’s not better just because you don’t need to think too much. Your brother said you’ve a brain in your head, and it’s not cheating to use it.”
« Last Edit: September 10, 2015, 06:58:28 PM by Bofur »


(#612800)

Ori

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The Gift of Distraction
« Reply #9 on: July 10, 2015, 06:00:00 PM »
It seemed that the more Ori tried to act like he was a mature grown up the less seriously Bofur took him. Even as he said the line about trying to help out at home a probing looking came into his eyes, as if already sarcastically shutting down his efforts. It seemed, really, a different side of the toymaker he had met while young, but even so Ori didn’t really know Bofur enough whether to tell which side was more genuine. He had liked toys as a boy, but he had always been the little scribbler and bookworm that rarely left home just to finish some ancient manuscript. Dori had never protested, so much as encouraged it, and that was why he knew nothing of the real world. Figured.

Thus it led him to the little bitter comment about the real job of a Dwarf, and Bofur’s surprised reply surprised him in turn. “What?” Ori paused and looked up at the older dwarf, who seemed dumbfounded now. “Lad… Really, what d’you mean by that? Mining’s no different to anything else. It’s not better just because you don’t need to think too much. Your brother said you’ve a brain in your head, and it’s not cheating to use it.” Stubborn as Ori was, the message Bofur was trying to convey about mining sailed over his head, and instead he settled on the fact that he said he’d met one of his brothers. It likely wasn’t Dori, but...yes, it was likely Nori. A small smile crept into his expression at the thought of Nori actually telling someone that he was intelligent – but he wiped it off with a grimace when he tried to shift himself to put less pressure on the broken arm.

“W-well, not exactly cheating, but…” Ori sighed as he tried to find the words. “Dwarves take to the earth. They make things from stone, or gems, or metal. They don’t scribble on paper. That’s…elf-work, isn’t it.” His voice went out at the end, because he couldn’t disagree more with what he was saying, but it was all “the truth”. It was what they all saw, wasn’t it? “Maybe mining isn’t the best job, but it’s still more dignified than doing elf-work.” There was other work he could try – there was smithing (though the thought of ending up at a loud, sweltering forge with Nari made his head spin – and there was doing guard duty with Dori, perhaps. But even those jobs didn’t appeal to him in the least.

[ooc: I AM SO SORRY THIS IS SO SHORT. I'M HAVING POST-HIATUS MUSE DRAIN. I WILL BE BACK WITH LONG REPLIES SOON.]
« Last Edit: September 13, 2015, 05:49:06 PM by Ori »

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Re: The Gift of Distraction
« Reply #10 on: September 13, 2015, 05:49:09 PM »
 For a moment it seemed that the message – or perhaps the compliment therein – had got through, as a small smile bloomed on Ori’s face. As quickly as it had appeared, however, the happy expression faded even faster; shoved aside by a twist of pain as the young miner readjusted himself.

 “W-well, not exactly cheating, but…” A sigh, and Bofur’s eyes brows knitted in pre-emptive confusion. “Dwarves take to the earth. They make things from stone, or gems, or metal. They don’t scribble on paper. That’s… Elf-work, isn’t it.” Conflict cracked the young voice and Bofur was about to cut across with a response (goodness knew what it would have been; he hadn’t thought that far ahead) when Ori continued. “Maybe mining isn’t the best job, but it’s still more dignified than doing elf-work.”

 “… Y’know, I’m fairly sure I know scribes who would knock your teeth out for calling their livelihood elf-work.And Maker knows it’s an odd definition of dignified that includes hacking a wall apart with a pickaxe.” Probably not helpful. Bofur waved a hand in mild frustration, searching for better words and cutting off his own muted laugh. “Dwarves do whatever they need to, and whatever they can do, and if they’re lucky enough to be able to choose something they like doing, all the better. We take to craft, and if that only includes swords and grand halls then a lot of the population has it wrong and we’d have a mighty hard and boring existence if they didn’t.”

 He paused, semi-aware of slipping into narrator mode and wondering if it was appropriate before forging ahead regardless. Maybe the distraction would help. Brown eyes slid back to Ori’s, for once not crinkled by a smile but still twinkling with light. “Mahal wrote making in our souls – some more and some less, but it makes us dwarves regardless. And sure, for some that’s mining or smithing or masonry, but there’s no reason it can’t be words strung together, spoken or on paper, or music, or – I don’t know, painting.” The last part brought a smile, thinking of a tiny noble child (not a child anymore, of course, which would make him feel old if he wasn’t careful) whose old work swirled in faded colours across a wall not so far from the entrance of that very mine. “Point is, if you can do something you like and get paid, why not do that? Whether that’s mining or architecture or scribework or whatever.”


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Ori

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Re: The Gift of Distraction
« Reply #11 on: February 09, 2016, 12:59:59 AM »
“… Y’know, I’m fairly sure I know scribes who would knock your teeth out for calling their livelihood elf-work. And Maker knows it’s an odd definition of dignified that includes hacking a wall apart with a pickaxe.” Put so bluntly by the miner, Ori’s pessimistic train of thought crashed. He was now blinking and registering what the older Dwarf said, under a more rational light. “Dwarves do whatever they need to, and whatever they can do, and if they’re lucky enough to be able to choose something they like doing, all the better. We take to craft, and if that only includes swords and grand halls then a lot of the population has it wrong and we’d have a mighty hard and boring existence if they didn’t.”

Despite the little light of the lamp they had, Ori’s eyes caught Bofur’s, and Bofur’s had lit up cheerfully. “Mahal wrote making in our souls – some more and some less, but it makes us dwarves regardless. And sure, for some that’s mining or smithing or masonry, but there’s no reason it can’t be words strung together, spoken or on paper, or music, or – I don’t know, painting.” Ah, painting. Had Ori not heard that word enough spat at by Dwarves describing the rich’s education for their young in Ered Luin.  As if they didn’t have enough economic burdens with the Erebor refugees, that the high my squander their gold away in teach their young to scribble away. And despite not coming into any money, young Ori received only the best of teachings. He had always been a scribe in the making.

“Point is, if you can do something you like and get paid, why not do that? Whether that’s mining or architecture or scribework or whatever.”

Ori looked down. He squirmed a little in his position, so the rest of his arm didn’t fall asleep. Of course, that brought a fresh wave of pain from his swollen, broken arm, but Ori only bit back the pain and kept complain out of his voice. If anything, when he spoke, his words echoed softly and subdued. “You’ve…you’re right, Master Bofur,” admitted Ori. “The young want what’s flashy and dignified and scarcely see what’d be good for an entire lifetime without it being pointed out. And your counsel’s only been logical and helpful to me.”

[ooc: What would you say about wrapping this thread up in a couple of replies? One more from you, one more from me?]

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Bofur

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Re: The Gift of Distraction
« Reply #12 on: October 05, 2017, 11:20:06 PM »
((OOC: HEY I’M RIDICULOUSLY LATE AND THIS WILL BE SHORT, SURE SOUNDS GOOD))
The lad wriggled uncomfortably, winced, and measured his voice out with a certain muted discipline. Quiet, even soft, but without the worrying, unanchored tone Bofur had heard in some badly injured miners.

 Warmth sparked in his chest as he realised that Ori had been listening. Properly. That was a relief. (Hopefully some of the advice would stick.)

“The young want what’s flashy and dignified and scarcely see what’d be good for an entire lifetime without it being pointed out. And your counsel’s only been logical and helpful to me.” (He had to chuckle a little at flashy and dignified. Ah yes, mining, the flashiest of all professions.)

The smile on Bofur’s face was something less exuberant than  - but just as genuine as - his usual grins. “Well, glad to help. And thanks – not often I get praised for my logic, y’know.” A vague shout from above made him tilt his stance back to look up. The echoing clatter of the miners leaving had long since fading – the noise that approached now tumbled and slunk around and over itself, but it was a lot quieter and less metallic.

 “Down here!” A pause – Bofur pulled himself to his feet – and then: COMIN’, answered the source of the distant steps. Bofur’s gaze slid back down to Ori. Provided it could wait to get to the main city before being set, they’d be able to move him and leave fairly quickly. “That’ll be the healer. How’s the arm? You ready to hopefully get out of here?”
« Last Edit: October 05, 2017, 11:21:02 PM by Bofur »


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Ori

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Re: The Gift of Distraction
« Reply #13 on: September 24, 2018, 10:03:49 PM »
“Well, glad to help. And thanks – not often I get praised for my logic, y’know.” Despite the fact that Mr. Bofur was almost nothing like his older brother, there was something about him knowing exactly how much he was worth that reminded Ori of Dori. Dori would never grin like that, but he would give a satisfied hmm when Ori thanked him for listening to him. Sometimes Ori was afraid that his head wasn’t all that right, given it often took outside advice to realize how silly he could be. But he wasn’t afraid to realize he was silly around his brother. Somehow it was the same with Mr. Bofur - Ori wondered if he had any children at home. You just never really knew people all that well, and he was so good being patient and understanding. Maybe he did.

There was a shout at the top of the mining shaft, and a smile sprang on Ori’s face out of sheer relief. Bofur, who had managed to catch the words properly, promptly shouted out “Down here!” COMIN’ was the reply from above. Bofur turned to Ori, almost as relieved as he was. “That’ll be the healer. How’s the arm? You ready to hopefully get out of here?” Ori gave an enthusiastic nod. Surely he should get up - Ori then bit back a yelp holding up his arm and standing up, wincing all the way. The break still felt like molten steel.

“I’ll need some help,” admitted Ori. And Mr. Bofur was more than happy to help him out there, too.
« Last Edit: September 24, 2018, 10:04:06 PM by Ori »

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