ataraxion | 001

[Bofur’s sitting in the gardens as the feed starts, glancing up to offer a brief smile. In his hands is a small block of wood, which is starting to take on the shape of what seems to be a bear. Steady hands direct his whittling knife against the wood, slicing off little shavings bit by bit.]

Back in th’ day, I ‘ad wee dwarrows beggin’ for me t’ make ‘em somethin’. Fili an’ Kili too. Can’t even name ‘ow many toys I made f’r those troublemakers. An’ they were always breakin’ ‘em! Kili in particular. ‘E’d come up t’ me with those big ol’ eyes o’ his, all teary, an’ beg me to fix ‘is favorite li’l ‘orse or soldier. [He lets out a soft laugh, continuing to carve.]

Bein’ here, someplace so diff’rent, ‘minds me o’ all th’ things I miss. What I wouldn’t give f’r a piece o’ Bombur’s mince pies! [Bofur chuckles.] S’pose that’s th’ trick though, innit? Rememberin’ the good things, an’ just trustin’ it’ll get better. ‘S how I get through. If y’ don’t got those good mem’ries, don’t keep ‘em fresh an’ new an’ happy like they were, that’s when y’ start questionin’ what it’s all for.

[He looks up from his whittling, the movement of his hands pausing for a moment. His smile fades, something more sober crossing his face.] ‘S not meant t’ be easy. Ain’t no point in that. Y’ keep lookin’ ahead t’ a brighter day, y’ take comfort an’ joy in th’ little things, that’s how y’ get through.

[His expression turns a little sheepish and he flushes a little, embarrassed with how much of himself he’s revealed.] Didn’t mean t’ be so preachy, but felt like it needed t’ be said.

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[Firo has his chin resting in the palm of his hand as he takes in Bofur's words. Normally he'd dismiss it for being too optimistic, but good memories of everybody back home are exactly what are getting him through.]

That's not such a bad way of lookin' at it. I doubt it'll ever get better here--or even get good, really--but thinkin' about everybody back home helps.

So is that... whatever you're doin' one of the "little things" you take joy in?

[Bofur smiles, pleased at least that his little speech has made a difference at least for one person. It wants to help others, wants everyone to do a little better here, because the misery he's seen is all-encompassing and he hates it.

The nod to his whittling makes his smile brighten, and he nods.]

It is indeed. Like t' keep m' hands busy, 'minds me o' home.

Busy's good.

[Firo finds that keeping himself busy and moving also keeps him from thinking to much about what they've been through on the Tranquility, but he keeps that to himself.]

What exactly are you makin'?

Indeed it is. Res'less minds are th' dangerous ones, y' know.

[He holds up his carving. It's still rather rough, but it's distinctly a bear.] Wee bear. Nothin' too fancy.

[He nods; he can think of a couple ways they could be dangerous, whether it's conjuring up nightmare scenarios to haunt oneself or plotting to hurt someone else. He doesn't want to think about how many restless minds there could be on the ship.]

It looks pretty neat. I never thought to use a knife that way. Seems like it must be tough to get it to come out the way you want.

[Bofur smiles and gives a little shrug.] Takes a lot o' practice. Been doin' this since I was small.

Cool. What do you use all that stuff for when you're done makin' it?

[That makes Bofur laugh.] Use it for? Usually I give it away. Don't 'ave much use f'r toys m'self.

A bit like Santa Claus, huh? Except I think he had elves make his toys instead of makin' 'em himself.

Never heard o' no one employin' elves just t' make toys. [Bofur looks completely confused.]

They don't have the story where you're from?

Back where I come from people say this guy and his elves live up at the North Pole. The elves make the toys and on Christmas he flies around the world and gives 'em out to kids.

[There are so many things wrong with this story.]

So he owns elves an' lives at a Pole? Don't sound like me 't all!

Hey, it was a joke. I think your beard would hafta bigger, too.

Anyway, the story's all bull. Just made up to make kids behave.

[Hn. He shakes his head, a little confused still.]

What's wrong with m' beard?

Nothin'--at least I don't think so. I was just sayin' that in the stories it's bigger and, uh... less styled.

[Though the curly mustache is quite impressive.]

[Yes, you had better envy his mustache. It took him a long time to grow it and he's very proud.

Speaking of, he's now touching his scruff a little self consciously.]

Hm.

...Somethin' wrong?

[He's wondering if the guy's just thinking or if he accidentally offended him. Firo tends to do that.]

Nope. [He smiles brightly.]

You looked a little worried there for a minute.

[He adds, jokingly:]

I'd hate to upset a guy who's holdin' a knife.

[That makes Bofur laugh, and he sets his whittling knife down.]

Do I really look like th' type t' run someone through?

[He laughs.]

You don't, actually, but I've been wrong about people before. So who knows?

[There are plenty of people who assumed Firo wasn't the violent type and got an unpleasant surprise.]

I s'pose that's true. [He chuckles a bit, nodding.]

I'll give y' a hint. 'M not usually likely t' run 'round stabbin' folk.

Glad to hear it. But I guess that doesn't cover other weapons. You're not a serial clubber, are you?

Oh, now those clubs. [He grins, winking.] Y' 'ave t' watch y'self round those. Never know when I may jus' snap.

I appreciate the warnin'.

[Less joking and more conversational:]

I more prefer knives myself.

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