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Procrastinating is fun
Dec. 14th, 2002 05:43 pmWell, got tired of Draco and his bad-ass self. Now it's Eowyn and her bad-ass self. *grin* Can't wait for TTT. Can't wait for RotK. She had better kick some serious ass. I'm very much looking forward to seeing Treebeard, Eowyn, Faramir, Theoden, Eomer, Gollum, and all the characters we've already seen. The soundtrack makes me very impatient to see it all. I really hope they don't emphasize Gollum as being evil and icky. He's not. He's an addict, that doesn't make him evil. And, OK, so he is icky, but . . . If you hadn't bathed in several hundred forevers and lived slightly longer, you wouldn't look wonderful either.
Anyway, am really hoping they keep this bit from The Stairs of Cirith Ungol:
Gollum looked at them. A strange expression passed over his lean hungry face. The gleam faded from his eyes, and they went dim and grey, old and tired. A spasm of pain seemed to twist him, and he turned away, peering back up towards the pass, shaking his head, as if engaged in some interior debate. Then he came back, and slowly putting out a trembling hand, very cautiously he touched Frodo’s knee- but almost the touch was a caress. For a fleeting moment, could one of the sleepers have seen him, they would have thought that they beheld an old weary hobbit, shrunken by the years that had carried him far beyond his time, beyond friends and kin, and the fields and streams of youth, an old starved pitiable thing.
*sniff* Poor thing.
I should be writing the many things for school I need to write, but instead I'm sitting here . . . not.
Anyway, am really hoping they keep this bit from The Stairs of Cirith Ungol:
Gollum looked at them. A strange expression passed over his lean hungry face. The gleam faded from his eyes, and they went dim and grey, old and tired. A spasm of pain seemed to twist him, and he turned away, peering back up towards the pass, shaking his head, as if engaged in some interior debate. Then he came back, and slowly putting out a trembling hand, very cautiously he touched Frodo’s knee- but almost the touch was a caress. For a fleeting moment, could one of the sleepers have seen him, they would have thought that they beheld an old weary hobbit, shrunken by the years that had carried him far beyond his time, beyond friends and kin, and the fields and streams of youth, an old starved pitiable thing.
*sniff* Poor thing.
I should be writing the many things for school I need to write, but instead I'm sitting here . . . not.
