(Untitled)

[thistledownking]

Having learned that the mortals of the mansion are not sufficiently occupied, the gentleman with the thistle-down hair has decided to provide a bit of harmless entertainment. Therefore, anyone who spends more than five minutes in one place will find himself or herself a child

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[tinydragoon]

Michael still hasn't quite gotten the hang of crackplots and he still hasn't gotten over his fascination with the wonders of modern bathrooms. Therefore, when he finally walks out of from playing with the taps, he is now fourteen. But he is so small that he looks to be closer to ten. He is dressed in overly large chain mail, a helmet that keeps slipping over his eyes, and the sword at his side is a little too large. He turns in a circle for a moment before sitting on the floor to wait for something to happen.

[youngandhealthy]

And something does. A girl of about eight wanders out into the hall, curious but not scared. She's wearing a slightly grubby 18th century dress that keeps slipping off her shoulder. Spotting Michael, she stares a bit. "... Y'ave a sword," Molly observes, her accent thicker for being kiddified.

[tinydragoon]

He nods. "I'm going to war. I've got to have one."

Typist: Awww... Little Tom will probably be popping up again soon. He fully expects to see Richard.

[youngandhealthy]

She makes a face. "Y're gonna 'urt yourself." She puts one hand on her hip. "'sides, war with who?"

T: XD I was just deciding who I should re-kiddify, if anyone.

[norweenish]

*because the typist can't resist using this icon again... Forti is in the library, figuring it's about time to read something that isn't Hamlet or Fortinbras. he doesn't have any idea what he's looking for, however, and so he spends more than five minutes staring at the shelves... he emerges from the library a good deal smaller, and rather confused*

[tinydragoon]

And because this typist just finished reading Fortinbras... Michael waves a little, trying to be friendly even if he is confused.

[norweenish]

*sticks out his chin in his most princely fashion* Who're you?

Typist: How'd you like the play? :D

[tinydragoon]

He pushes his slipping helmet up. "Michal. Jerzy Michael Wolodyjowski. Who're you?"

Typist: Omg! Polish maidens! It was hysterical!

[hewer_of_caves]

Finrod often likes nothing more than to have a bit of quiet time with a book. This is, usually, a safe hobby in a place like this. ...Unfortunately, this time he winds up turning back to the equivalent age of about seven or eight before even chosing a book. Ickle!Finrod is just as happy to be in the library as his elder counterpart, but he'll wander off in search of less heavy reading.

[jadedphilosophy]

Libraries are, as everyone knows, the natural habitat of the domestic Andreth. And among the shelves, this particular specimen shall come across a wee elfling who-- she's met before, hasn't she? "--Oh, hello." ...Oh.

[hewer_of_caves]

The little elfling doesn't recognize her, but he's been brought up to be polite. "Hullo."

[angsty_redhead]

There was a big tall scary elf-thing making tea in the kitchen. Now there is a much smaller adorable elfling wandering out of it, confused but unafraid, because you don't get much danger where he's from. The eldest of the House of Finwë around here is now looking about thirteen.

And that teapot's going to boil dry. Oops.

T: OH MY GOD THANK YOU SO MUCH. HAVE BEEN PINING AFTER ONE OF THESE FOR AGES. ^__^

[hewer_of_caves]

Little Findarato has finally noticed that the library he was in wasn't Ata's, nor was it anywhere he recognized, and he's very relieved to find any sort of family member. So here Mae, have a little cousin attaching himself to you.

[angsty_redhead]

"Heey, Findaráto-!" He staggers back slightly at the sudden attaching, but catches the small cousin in a snug. "What're we you doing here?"

[hewer_of_caves]

"I dunno, I was in the library but then it wasn't Ata's library anymore and that's weird." He wasn't really worried, but he's happier now, Mae's the next best thing to a grown-up, really.

[treecateyes]

Andy was just standing and looking out the window. A few minutes later, a dark-haired five-year-old wanders out, wondering where he is.

[dancing_warlord]

*and here's a Rainier, then, quirking an eyebrow* Again, Andy?

[treecateyes]

Andy just stares up at him, he's got no idea who Rainier is right now. He shrugs a little, and from the look on his face it's clear that he's got no idea what he's done.

[dancing_warlord]

It's okay, kiddo. *crouches down* How old are you?