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HOME SWEET HOME

Elrond let the gang decide when to leave, providing hospitality and medical care until they're ready. When the quest calls to them and they know it'll tug them along soon, he makes sure each is fully supplied and armed with weapons of their choosing, some custom made. They each have a pack, food supplies, and extra clothing. All of them get offered sturdy boots, even those who have stranger body types like Filbo.

He gives the group four copies of a book transcribed with the prophecies that had been brought to Rivendell, to be studied and interpreted on their journey.

Those who mentioned knowledge of the One Ring are briefly pulled aside away from the guests at Elrond's Council. They're implored to keep it secret, for the knowledge of Frodo's task could lead to people trying to steal the Ring when he's on a journey to destroy it.

Crowley is also released from the dungeon, with Elrond apologizing for the Elves' caution. It's at least clear he's been shown some of the same hospitality. He's healed up, well fed, and clothed in replacement clothes just like they all are.

Elrond's final goodbye to the whole group is warm and genuine.

"Namárië. It is a word we use for greetings and goodbyes. It means 'be well.' Whether you seek to help this world or try to find a way home, it is our hope that whatever paths you tread fly beneath your feet, and whatever obstacles you face are quickly overcome."

A pause.

"It would be easy to try to make you feel that the hopes of those in this new world go with you; but such burdens should only be carried by those who choose it. The Green will not admit it, but they have done you a great wrong. If you try to only find your way home, it's justified, and I hope you do find it."

Yes, there are prophecies, but making people do something by force is wrong, and all weary travelers deserve to find their way home. After a brief time of saying any goodbyes, they get to make their way to the other side of the valley. On the other side of the pass is the castle the Green spoke about.

The castle is a Frankenstein monstrosity that seems cobbled together from many buildings and machines. The second the last of the gang piles inside, it starts moving, massive legs clanking along. But where it's going is unknown. At least that means they have time to explore, rest, and get settled.

There are many mystical objects and mysteries within. One half of the castle seems to be a strange frozen realm of faerie, with strange sights to explore. But even the warmer side of the castle has its oddities. Magic waterfalls that show memories, and a scrying pool that shows frozen images of home, locked to the times each member of the squad left theirs. There are magical doors that lead to sights beyond the imagination, strange collections and even entire small realms, some beautiful, some dangerous.

The three magical creatures, Jonald, Ronald, and Rolkien constantly get underfoot trying to get the group settled, but refuse to talk about their former master, seemingly hurt at his leaving the castle.

The castle also seems to like assigning roommates for some of the group, making it so doors only open to their assigned room anytime they try to go to a place to sleep, even teleporting to them to the room if they fall asleep elsewhere.

It's a strange place, sometimes dangerous, sometimes annoying, but at least they have even more time to rest, train, plan, and prepare. They will have a few weeks to adjust to their new normal.

Then...who knows where the road will take them.
OOC DETAILS
❧ Prompts. The mods aren't doing prompts, but players can check out the page on the Moving castle for inspiration. The castle has many mysteries and oddities and absolutely anything can be behind the magical doors.

❧ Food and water. The castle seems to have an internal pressurized water supply and food is plentiful...for now. The food supply will not last forever but some food was left behind by the castle's previous occupants. There there's enough for a long break without hunting. There is some fresh food that's rotten and needs to be thrown away but whoever lived here clearly knew how to keep food prepared. There are cooking oils, flour, and sugar for bread and baked goods. There is jerky of various types of meats, dried fruit, sun-dried tomatoes, stores of nuts, jars of preserved fruit and jams (and empty jars to make more), and hard cheeses that need only a little mold cut off them to still be edible. Some of the jars have confit, meat cooked and preserved in lard, or garlic preserved in oil. A small root cellar has a few barrels of potatoes, parsnips, and onions.

It also has some barrels of beer and bottles of wine.

There are also dried herbs hanging in bundles from the kitchen ceiling, jarred pickled vegetables, and vinegar for pickling more. There are also fresh veggies the group can harvest together. The gardens will not be infinite in supplying the group but luck has it that many vegetables are ripe for harvest right now. The squad can pick juicy tomatoes, green beans, peppers, carrots, radishes, blackberries from a small thicket, squash, and plenty of zucchini. The garden does need tending to stay healthy. Aside from harvesting from it, weeds need to be pulled, beans and tomatoes need to be trellised, spoiled veggies on the ground need to be tossed away.

❧ Bathing. There is no soap other than what the Elves may have given them but there are hot baths. The water has to be heated on a fire down the hall and carried to the tubs.

❧ Weather/Atmosphere: The air outside and inside is on the warmer side. Even though the stone is cool, the cooking fires warm the air to something comfortable. The air outside in the gardens is warm and sunny, with the occasional cool breeze due to the altitude.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Yeah, right, and he's supposed to believe that? They're not going to leave him alone, they'll keep going with their little art project (science project would imply that they know how it works, which they don't).

"Well, then, if 'the entire group' is not capable of...Getting their hands dirty, that is not my fault. I will not be there to take the blame for actions they are too proud to take. And certainly I will not train for it."

He rolls his eyes.

"Even if I was interested in your offer, I cannot accept it."

Which is true, he already wasn't physically gifted to begin with, now he has goddamn brain damage to make everything harder, but it's not safe to tell them. He did tell Filbo, sure, but Filbo is a weakling, as two faced as he is he knows well that disrespecting him so deeply will earn him a well deserved stabbing.

"Price, you know my word's good," Saturday says, patient. "I can be subtle when I feel like it. I could have been subtle here. I could have let Elle lead the charge, make things worse, then come in and picked up the pieces. I'm not bein' subtle, despite the fact that it pretty much guaranteed you reactin' like this, because I actually want to fucking help. You'd catch on to subtle, eventually, and lose your shit even worse - isn't that kinda what happened with Dan?"

She gestures at the mirror behind him.

"I don't like admitting when I'm not okay, either. But you're not okay. You've been down here staring into the mirror that shows your heart's desire, tears in your eyes, for like - well, I was waiting about twenty minutes for you t'come out, and you didn't. You know the mirror is designed to catch people an' kill them, right? It works best on people who aren't keeping their shit together - people who would rather die dreaming then face a hard reality."

She'd taken a good, hard look at it herself, when they arrived. It had shown her largely what she expected to see; she'd wept, but she'd been able to move away.

"But then, you're not really denying that you're not okay, you're denying that it's, what, possible to be okay again? Possible for anyone to help you be okay? Possible for anyone to want to help you be okay? Whatever okay means to you - I'm aware that it's not what some people would call good or moral. That's not a concern for me. I just want you fucking stable so we can all get the hell through this with minimal drama."

She sighs.

"And you do need some basic combat an' survival skills or you're gonna be dead meat. You're perfectly goddamned aware of that, an' unless you got some internal damage I see four perfectly functional limbs an' torso in decent condition, which means you can at least learn enough to keep yourself alive."

"I would rather be 'dead meat' than walk on eggshells one more time to appease any of you. I don't care about you, you don't care about me, and you don't need me to complete your quest. I am the exact opposite of what the Green is looking for: in fact, I am sure I was brought here by accident while it tried to trade me for someone else from my world, and before I was taken to the Rig, I was about to die soon."

His voice gets even quieter.

"I am about to die soon...."

He doesn't want to tell Saturday about the brain damage too explicitly.

"And yet here you are, doing your best bull in a china shop, and have I flinched? I'm pretty sure I've been talking to you like an adult and equal. If I haven't, I'm sorry, that was never my intent."

She moves a hand towards her pipe - she hates not having something to do when she talks - then thinks better of it. They're in a fairly enclosed space. Instead she crosses her legs, resting her wrists on her knees, hands dangling loosely. Open.

"What do you mean, you're gonna die soon?"

Well, there is no point in hiding it, really. He'd just hoped that keeping it for himself would allow him to decide how to die rather than having to bear them get rid of him in the way that they prefer. Why not let him choose how to die? He lost everything.

"I...I was hexed moths ago and I can't seem to recover. I was not supposed to survive, and...Everything feels overwhelming, my head hurts at all times and it's hard to even stand, sometimes. I am weaker than I was before...And I can't afford to keep living with brain damage, I don't want to, and neither do you."

"Fuck."

Saturday leans back, interlacing her hands across her stomach.

"Well, fuck. That explains it. Fuck a duck."

She had assumed the breakdown was mostly stressors piling on stressors. Even the strongest mind breaks down eventually, if you pile enough weight. A physical cause hadn't been on her radar, and she could kick herself for not thinking of it.

"It may be curable. Have you looked into it? Magic can usually fix magic, and we've got a shitload of that."

"I don't know how magic works, perhaps that could be the case." Price sighs "But it's not worth it to go through all that. I would prefer staying here."

"Why wouldn't it be worth it?" Saturday holds up a hand. "An' before you bust out with the 'because nobody likes me, everybody hates me, guess I'll go eat worms' shit, why the fuck should you care if your death is 'what everyone wants'? Like, for starters, I don't want you dead, neither does CT, neither does Filbo. But even leaving that aside - why should you give a fuck. It's your life. You only get one. You're a shrink, you know this kinda passive suicidal ideation shit is in an of itself a sign of unwellness. This goes double if you're brain-damaged. How do you know you actually want to die, and it's not just your injuries and illness talkin'?"

"I have been knowing for many years." he sighs "I would ask you to leave me alone but I know you won't."

"Since when? Piper 90? Or before?"

"It doesn't matter."

It's not easy to have a proper answer. Back 'home', on the Tartarus, he told Sharkface he wanted his life back, but there really wasn't anything left already. Besides, as much as he tries to downplay it, it's not like Project Freelancer didn't get him hurt. Not to mention anything that came before, it's all a formless agglomerate of unspeakable things that he doesn't want to make any more concrete.

"Either way, I would rather rest here."

"Why would you say that it doesn't matter?"

Saturday tilts her head back, stretching her arms across the back of the shrouded mirror she's leaning up against. She can guess, but she wants to hear him say it. If he can say it. With his brain damage, who can even say if his emotions are his own? She'll never know who she might have grown up to be if she hadn't found Elder Brother.

"Like I said, I am going to die as soon as I come back to my home universe, regardless of what I do here."

Demading that he behaves while he's dying is just tiring.

"And I am no longer interested in contributing the group's efforts in general."

"What if you just don't go back home?"

"It still wouldn't mean I am suitable for this place or this mission in any way whatsoever. It would not practical for me to stay here even if I wanted to."

He's not a hero and he's not a child. There is an innocence to some aspects of him, but he is not aware of them. Neither is everyone else.

HOME SWEET HOME

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