nysalogs | [OPEN] When I was a child I'd sit for hours staring into open flames...

Entry tags:

[OPEN] When I was a child I'd sit for hours staring into open flames...

Who: Daenerys Targaryen (

dorzalta) & others.
What: Chimera call to action in Wyver, post-kidnapping/torture, plus whatever goes down in April.
When: March/April catch-all.
Where: Wyver, Thesa Station, and others TBD.
Warning(s): Game of Thrones/Daenerys standard warnings, torture, self harm, etc.

Wyver
I. CHIMERAS
To get close to the dragons, Daenerys believes she must get close to the Beastmaster known as Thali. It would do her well to participate in this task for a multitude of reasons, the first of which includes keeping herself occupied. Her hair's braided back into one single plait, and whilst she's neither donning her Targaryen colors, nor wearing something entirely Dothraki, she is in leathers and pieces spun for practicality in the heat and humidity.

( a. ) Are you her partner in gathering the chimeras and feeding them? If so, have fun standing beside her as she stares at the creatures, frowning. "Which mouth do they feed themselves with? They're rather vicious looking."

( b. ) Or perhaps you're seated with her on one of the rocks near a spring. She's parchment with her, spattered in water and mud (is that blood?), with notes scrawled on the pages. Her legs are stretched out before her, hooked at the ankles, and she looks as if she is a queen in her element, not an onlooker studying a creature's behaviors. "It's a shame they've the head of a lion. That is a lion, isn't it?"

( c. ) Of course, living creatures--be it humans, dragons, or chimeras--can be spooked, and these are no different. One of the dragons in the nearby areas roars, and suddenly the chimera the two of you are guiding to a new location jerks. "Watch for its--mouths," she warns you, before ducking from the lashing snake tail. "Shh, friend, the dragons will not harm you."

II. FIELDS OF THE EXALTED (post-kidnapping)
She's reason enough to claim her spot in this place, having spied upon Thali during her work with the chimeras. After a few days of ignoring anyone and everyone, Daenerys is quick to reassert herself. It would do no good for a queen to show weakness. Likewise, she's determined to find a job to move out of her... less than acceptable living arrangements.

( a. ) If you're a friend visiting her, she may rope you into meeting a dragon--her dragon. For while Drogon is not free for her to ride as she'd prefer, he is still on the grounds, in the sanctuary. She can still interact with him. Which means you will, too!

( b. ) Work is good for the soul. When she was nothing more than a khaleesi, the khalasar kept her busy and exhausted. It might've been a simpler life, traveling with a nomadic tribe, but there were still things to appreciate. Do you help Dany gather meat for feeding younger dragons, lead in livestock for the adults, break up fights between dragons, tend to sick creatures, or training youngsters?

III. WILDCARD
HMU if you want some other interaction in Wyver prior to or post kidnapping!

Thesa Station
IV. STASIS
It's been some time since she's visited her people, and for that, there is a flare of guilt. Wearing her attire from home, she spends a vast majority of her time in the stasis room.

( a. ) She stands before ser Jorah's pod, staring up at him with a troubled expression. A palm rests against the glass of his pod, fingers gently smoothing the glass as if she would touch his face. It's intimate, but what of the stasis room is not? "I don't know what to do," you might overhear her telling her old bear. "I need you by my side. Please wake up."

( b. ) Missandei looks so peaceful, and that peace brings her peace. It's the first time she's smiled. "You'd have found them adorable. I know you've never seen a hatchling before."

( c. ) "You've left me with scars, brother," she murmurs to Viserys' slumbering face. No gold crown, not a crown for a king. No demonic teeth or flame-bright eyes. "But it was you who woke the dragon, this time."

V. MESS HALL
Wine and oranges--that's what Dany has as she sits in the mess hall. She's alone at her table, looking up, not at others. Up means she can gaze through the expansive glass lining the upper part of the room, and out into space itself. "Do you believe the stars are souls?" she'll ask someone, if they sit at her table.

VI. WILDCARD
Let's do it.

( ooc: Feel free to ping me on plurk to hash out some plans

bubblytangerine or PM me on this journal. Will match format, so if prose isn't your jam, no biggie. Daenerys was kidnapped and tortured, so she will be absent for a period of time. )

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

He felt her hands on his, looking down at those soft white fingers touching hands that should be rougher than they were. So much of his own scars had healed when he'd made his deal with the demon. Scars that had become a part of him. His sword callouses were still there, though. Bumps of harder skin forged from years of swinging a sword, of building up a roughness to handle hard labor. Vlad's hands were not like other Prince's she might touch.

Looking down at her, he took in a slow breath, ignoring the thrumming of blood he heard under her skin, under the skin of the bodies in rooms all around them. Anger always made him lose that tenuous control for a moment. "I still should have known. You are not the kind to be silent when you have issue with something. Ah, Lady, I am at your mercy."

Now she rolls her eyes at him, quietly huffing. She would expect such remorse from one in her guard, not a man who swore no allegiance to her. She's half a mind to tell him he has no responsibility for her wellbeing. None of them were responsible for her.

But she also understands this worry he experiences.

"Have you considered relocating to Wyver, lord Tepes?"

He saw that eyeroll, and for some odd reason, it made him feel better. Not that she was irritated, but that it was so familiar an action in a woman like her, he knew she couldn't be overly harmed if she could find it in her to jest at his expense.

The question caught him off guard, and he frowned as he kept hold of her hands, thumbs stroking gently over her skin, as if he could brush away the ill thoughts of what had happened to her. "I had not. Though, to be quite honest, I haven't found myself sitting comfortably in Olympia. All this unease and unrest directed at new faces... mine the newest of them all. I feel I'm causing more distress than easing."

She's not as quick to step inside, but instead studies the exterior after tying the reigns of her silver to a battered fence's beam. Fresh foliage snaps beneath each of her steps. It's rather unimpressive outside. By all means, boring, despite how well it blends in with the greenery around them. Much else in the immediate space around the structure is swallowed alive by weeds and plants, so she ignores this in favor of finally following him inside, having just caught his words.

"I wonder what happened to the prior owner of this place. Abandoned it when relations with Wyver grew strained?" Dead, perhaps. Or abandoning the cottage in favor of something better. "Not much room in here."

That, perhaps, was in the eyes of the beholder. It was larger than her own space back in Olympia.

It reminds him of the cave, another secret place that they explored together. The quiet of the woods and the absence of sound gives the feeling of isolation and gravity to what they were seeing. It wasn't simply an abandoned home but something they found together, as beautiful and mysterious as the drawings.

"I don't know." Nothing had been left behind save for a few pieces of broken furniture. A table that only had two legs left and a chair without a back. There were cobwebs and dead leaves covering the ground. He could smell the mud and damp radiating from the stones. "There are beasts in the woods. It might have been too dangerous for him."

It seemed like a palace to him, despite the state of it and the work needed to repair it. "Maybe not much room is needed?"

"Or her," she says, arching her brows at him. Come now, don't be sexist, Jon. "Living on the outskirts of the city seems dangerous, especially so close to the border."

She drags her gloved fingers along a wall, wiping away dust and time with the motion.

"Give it a good cleaning, and it would be quaint." Not the expansive halls she'd grown accustomed to. Not even the locales where Viserys took them to, where lords housed them as children. Still, there's something curiously intriguing about the cottage--particularly when it's only she and Jon.

This prompts her to look over, considering him. "depends on who lived here."

"It brings with it other problems. You've not witnessed that?" She reaches for her wine, taking another, heartier sip. Rakharo and Irri come to mind. How he'd been beheaded. How inconsolable she'd been. Years have passed, and that memory still haunts her. "But I suppose that the Great Stallion is what encourages their ferocity in battle."

The glass is emptied. Only when it is does she manage to banish the memory. It helps they speak of the two kingdoms. More familiar territory, even if such lands were tarnished by memories of torture, currently.

"Humid. That's fair. Essos was much the same. I suppose it's more familiar to me in that regard." Upon mention of the dragons and their sanctuary, she quietly hums. "I'd believed mine to be lost. Most are awed by dragons. I take it you were not?"

"Or them." He turns to meet her eyes, gazing down at her warmly. "Maybe it was him and her. Together." There's movement outside, but all he needs to do is look over his shoulder and see a flash of white with red eyes set against it. Ghost wasn't far from them, warding off whatever might have scared the owners away.

One of the broken table legs was at his feet. He lifted it up, testing its heft before twirling it idly in his hand, as if it were a toy sword. There was mold embedded against the wood, sharp and musky in the air.

"It would need a bit of work." More than "a bit." It would require a great deal of time and resources. The roof needed repairing, the trees would have to be cut back and the windows would need panes and shutters. All of these things he had a passing knowledge of, but wasn't completely sure how well he would do at repair...if it was him doing it.

"Aye, maybe someone who needed a place to call home."

"It does. Wars, crime... though I suppose it'd be just the same without." Humans are animals, and animals fight and claw for whatever they think is their right, using whatever justifications. Hundreds of years and none of that's changed--Charles believed it was his God-given right to be king, and how many people died because they had that same faith?

Claire could probably go for some wine at the thought.

"Awed and terrified," she admits with a little smile. "Much like I first was with the direwolves. They grew on me, over time. Dragons? Those are especially out of my league. We never had anything like that at home. Lizards, maybe. Dinosaurs, eons ago. But they no longer existed by the time civilization rolled out."

[ He's walking around, blending among the shadows in Wyver like they belong to him. Enough friends live in the city that he doesn't have to worry about a place to say, even if he still has safehouses here, and contacts among the locals. ]

[ Work is good for the soul. Doing something new, in a place where nobody requires questions or consideration, can be good for the soul — the heat helps, toiling until his muscles ache help with sleep. They start today by tending to the injured ones — Bruce had approached her at once upon seeing her — skims his hand gently over one to soothe it. ]

This one's doing well.

"Or them," she concedes with a smile. The warmth in his eyes is reflected in her own. His message comes across quite clearly, near obvious enough to make her laugh. "We'd have better luck, in any case."

Only belatedly does she realize she suggested they claim the cottage. And when she does realize it, it's when he's' swinging a broken table leg. She twists around to further inspect the small space. Not very much, room for a bed, a bath, a small space to prepare meals, a hearth.

"Do you think there's water nearby?"

A soft smile crosses his lips, even as he marvels at the difficulty they are choosing to inherit. This cottage was remote and there were creatures in these woods he had never come across before and would likely pose a threat to them. But in this moment, he couldn't see anything but what was now theirs together. His and hers.

He glances up from his fidgeting scanning the woods from the broken window. "I think there is a river. There would have to be something." Otherwise, this cottage wouldn't have been built here in the first place. But it's still worth looking into. "There was a well, I think, further behind the house." He had seen something that looked like one.

"We would need to make certain the water is clean."

Better than before. Twisted his wing while trying to fly.

[ She's quick to look up when he speaks, the rumble of his voice both familiar and foreign. Her eyes warm upon identifying her visitor. ]

It's been some time since we last spoke. I didn't expect to see you here. Well met.

Sometimes, she forgets that this is an open room. She'd had the luxury of awakening in this space by herself, with none but Jon to guide her. But with the station now within their reach again, it would make sense that a number of them would choose to revisit theirs. She'd wanted to, and much like this man's motivations to delay his return to Wyver, so too does Dany try to spend as much time as she can before being forced to return back to the jungle kingdom.

Sparing Jorah one, last look, she sighs. Pulls her hand away from his pod. Turns to look at the one who made such a helpful comment. She's never seen him before, but that changes nothing. There were many she's yet to meet.

"And who is it up to?"

"The river first, come." It's moldy and dusty and she'd rather not stand inside for too long. It's a beautiful day, besides, and one certainly worth enjoying. Especially when it would be one of the last few they'd have together. Who knew for how long?

Once outside, she notices that Ghost is skulking the outskirts of the tree line. Her silver snorts when she steps closer, running her fingers along the mane of pale hair. "Rest," she tells it, stepping further from the house to the bits of land their mounts had trampled.

"If there's water, we'd have that and fire. Then we'd only need food."

"We would have to transport a supply of food and learn to plant the rest. I could hunt as well." It wouldn't be the finest meals of their lives, but given their previous conversations, it wouldn't be the worst either. It would at least be an honest life, something that they worked for together and built themselves.

Ghost watches with silent eyes, a deep red against the dark backdrop of the forest. If there was anything lurking about, it kept its distance at the sight of the large direwolf. Even Jon's horse didn't seem disturbed, feeding from the overgrowth and grass.

He paused, pulling his glove from his hand as he touched the soil and listened around them. "A bit further this way, I think." He nodded towards a rocky alcove. "Would you prepared for this sort of life?"

"When did you awaken?" It takes some effort to force herself away from the stasis pod, but it's always better to speak with someone standing. The pods proffer nothing but loneliness more often than not. "It's only been... ah, a month or two, now?"

So he's alone, then. Looks young enough. Someone who could use his friends, she imagines. Though to be fair, they could all use their friends. What she wouldn't give for Missandei to open her eyes... gods.

"You don't think it's possible for a stranger to have spoken a kind word to you?" Seems a silly question, so she shakes her head. "I can't recall anyone speaking to me, either."

That would be the one. Red and black.

[ That wariness soon leaves her in favor of a fond little smile, clearly for her son. ]

I just recently woke. [ Which would explain for Drogon's appearance. ] I'm Daenerys.

Do you have dragons in your world?

He has to think about that one, lifts his eyebrows in surprise.

"It's been...wow, yeah, a couple of months. Back when Olympia and Wyver attacked our ship. So it's the same for you, too?"

Which feels way longer ago than around two months. So much has happened since then, kept them all busy. Her question gives him pause, at least, doesn't seem that silly to him.

"It's possible, I guess. I hadn't thought about it." Then, "The only thing I remember hearing was Darma, before I woke up, making me a promise."

He'd almost forgotten about that. Not the promise, of course, but -- the dream, if that's what it was.

Edited 2018-04-02 01:13 (UTC)

[ He knew she was here. Bruce wouldn't be here otherwise. ]

Well-met. How've you been doing?

No, not overly harmed at all. She'd faced far worse as a younger woman than the hallucinations brought to life during her kidnapping. What likely was the worst of that ordeal was not the memories, but the scars on her back.

Things currently brushed aside as she listens to him. His words in the stasis chamber come to mind, about building a new life here. Secrets, as well. Secrets that had to do with peculiar eyes? She squeezes his hand.

"Neither city seems accepting of newcomers." A quiet sigh. Her eyes flick over his features as she chooses her words carefully. "You're a dragon, just as I. This kingdom has an entire sanctuary dedicated to them. Perhaps you should be nearer to our kind?"

"Your kind, Lady. I am the son of a dragon in name only, while you seem to be mother to the truth of them. Are you faring better here than your time in the other city?" He lets her reclaim her hands, gesturing for them to move out of the alley, lest someone come upon them and think them in the midst of some chicanery.

She's just as much a stranger to him as he is to her, which probably means she's one of the newer arrivals. Anyone who's been here as long as him, 76 would have at least seen in passing at some point.

"The Natha," he says with a one-armed shrug. "The story they tell us is that everyone still in the pods has to heal from wounds left by the Storm before they can be woken up."

He leans in, just enough to get a good look at the sleeping face in the pod that she'd been speaking to. A middle-aged man, nothing too remarkable about him. Her father or uncle, maybe?

"He doesn't look particularly injured to me, though."

[Ah, one of the newer ones.]

At one time we did. They've been gone for a while now though. I honestly couldn't tell you what they were like beyond stories. ... Well, if they were much different from these guys anyhow.

Her hands fall back to her sides, and she's quick to fall into step beside him, leaving the alleyway in favor of walking the streets. It's hot and humid in Wyver, little pockets of sunshine peeping through the dense foliage above. She wears thinner, lighter fabrics in this city--not the heavy tunic from Westeros, far more a fit for Olympia's clime.

"A dragon in name is still one link closer than far more around us have right to claim." She looks ahead, careful not to slacken her posture for fear of agitating her back. "I'd grown used to this sort of weather in the lands I was raised. The dragon's sanctuary--I work there, tending to this land's populace."

Faring better? In some ways. She'd also been kidnapped, though.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 2 of 6

[OPEN] When I was a child I'd sit for hours staring into open flames...

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

SUCH A SMART MAMA

no subject

no subject

ii-b.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject