peterjackson: (Skinny)
Pete took one last look through a living room window, and sighed. Still no sign of Viggo or Orlando. Maybe they'd had a flat on the way over... no, they'd think to call. Pete tried not to worry about what might be delaying them, and wandered back to the theatre.

He was just in time to hear Karl arguing with Dave. "Oh, this is going to be a stellar war council", Pete muttered. Then he raised his voice loud enough for the whole room to hear.

"Right, then! We're here to try to find a way to murder a wraith. Would the lot of you please settle out? I can't believe you're fighting already! Now then! Who wants to go first? Who's got a notion of something that might help the situation?"
peterjackson: (Not Too Shabby)
It had been a while since Pete had promised Dave he'd gather in the Rings folk and bring them up to speed on Jed's situation. It was one of the darkest developments they'd had to face since the bowl had first been brought to Wellington, four years past. A lifetime ago.

He'd made excuses, tried to convince himself that somehow Jed's shift could be controlled, that they had the upper hand. It was just another round of what Pete had been telling himself all along - this shifting was a temporary phenomenon.

But rather than fading away, things were getting worse and worse. And to complicate matters, there were innocents in their midst - friends and family that were completely oblivious to what was going on right here in Wellington. People like Alryssa.

That was it, then. It was time everyone got themselves in the same place at the same time. It was time to really, really talk about what in hell could be done about this.

Pete made a lot of phone calls, saying whatever was needed to do to get that 'yeah, I'll be there' out of everyone. He coaxed. He threatened. He pleaded and there's a possibility he threw down an insult or two. It didn't matter. Whatever it took to round everyone up.

The last call made, Pete shuffled into the kitchen to get a pot of soup simmering. The theatre was stocked with beers and food... but a pot of soup couldn't hurt, could it? Pete shook his head, stirred the pot, and waited for the others to start knocking on his door.

December 2006

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