open | your name is on a lot of quotes in this book

[nineteenfortyfive]

Who: Claire Fraser (nineteenfortyfive) & you
What: May things, lots of moping Claire... forgive me.
When: May
Where: Olympia
Warning(s): General Outlander warnings.



I. THE MARKET

[Her marriage is in an unpleasant place and she doesn't know how to fix it. Percy is in stasis. Ramsay is back. Theon was, for a brief moment, back in stasis as well, but only returned in a worse state than he was. It's been a lot to contend with on top of being so recently tortured (her her hands remain in gloves as her nails grow back, the last of the damage left), and one afternoon as Claire's in the market, standing before a fruit stand, it all catches up to her.

For someone who urges others to confide in someone, anyone, often herself, she doesn't follow her own advice.

She pushes other shoppers out of the way as she suddenly finds it hard to breathe, hard to keep her eyes from welling with tears, and if she slams into anyone there's no apology as she stumbles out and away.

She stops when she comes to a fountain, gasping and sobbing, a hand clutching at her neck as if there's something suffocating her, chest heaving rapidly. No, nothing physical, just an overwhelming sense of sadness. A sadness that turns into more of a frustrated panic as she tries to calm herself, leaning over the water.]

II. THE TRAIN/FLONA COVE

[Percy did have an affinity for water.

Claire knows she can't watch over Theon 24/7. He needs to stand on his own, and he can, and so Claire takes some hours for herself and heads to the beach. She's always enjoyed train rides. Perhaps she's even in the mood for conversation with whoever happens to sit by her.

At the beach, instead of collapsing on the sand and considering letting the waves wash her away, she takes a stroll, skirts tied up over her knees so she can walk in the small waves without getting drenched.

Now and then she stops to pick up a shell. By the end of it, she's got a hefty collection held in her skirt, and dumps her prizes where she's left her shoes.

Well. Now what to do with them?]

III. STASIS

[She spends more time here than she'd ever admit. She makes it sound like her visits are brief. They're not. On leave from the Sanctuary, she's had a lot of time to simply be.

Today, she stands before her daughter's pod. What she'd give to be able to touch her red hair, or at least feel her skin, make sure it's warm. All she can so is press her hands against the glass.]

Sometimes I think you're luckier, in there. Though you'd probably throw a fit at me saying that. I know you'd rather be here, too. I know.

[[ooc: pls choose your flavor of sad mom, or hit me with a wildcard! Oooooor send me a PM if you'd like me to whip up a starter, and I'd be happy to.]]

Comments

ii

[pebblestone]

[ There are no beaches in Ylisse, at least not within easy riding distance of Ylisstol, and while Frederick has no particular feelings about beaches, positive or negative or otherwise, it would be a disservice to his sleeping lord and lady if he did not at the very least explore the area and make note of what it had to offer.

So he hops aboard the train, rides it all the way to Flona Cave before taking his exit, and proceeds to bumble down to the beach until he can get a good look at the sea. There's a lot else to see: seagulls, soaring through the skies as well as guzzling down stray bits of food here and there, children shrieking in delight as they race through the water, a woman with a pile of shells spilled all around her.

How odd. He blinks, frowning slightly because that's the only expression he knows how to make. ]

That's quite a number of shells you've collected there. [ No judgement in his voice, only mild curiosity. ] Were you planning on stringing them together to make a necklace?

[ Or....many necklaces, given the sheer quantity of shell at her disposal. ]

[nineteenfortyfive]

[Claire looks up from her spot where she's plopped down on the sand, shielding her eyes against the sun. There's nothing in mind for these shells, but he's rather helpful in suggesting that idea. She'll take it.]

I might. I could use a new hobby. [And one lends into another. She has a lot of needles and a lot of thread.] I got a little carried away, I'm afraid. Find one that looks nice, and then there happens to be a second that's pretty, and so on and so forth...

[Until you're probably endangering some sort of creature by disturbing its habitat.]

Feel free to take some, if you're so inclined to make your own necklaces.

[It's a joke. He doesn't look the sort.]

[pebblestone]

[ She's right, ordinarily he's definitely not the type to set aside an afternoon and string together shells of varying sizes and colors. ]

I fear they would rattle most unbecomingly against my armor.

[ But! Ordinarily he wouldn't be living in a foreign land with nothing to his name but his hard-trained skills, and ordinarily the people that would occupy all his time wouldn't be tucked away in glass pods, all peacefully asleep. Crouching down, he picks up one of the shells, a small cowrie shell that gleams bright in the sunlight. ]

Though I hear young girls like such things, accessories made out of baubles and trinkets. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to make one necklace.

[ In the event that Lissa ever wakes from stasis. ]

[nineteenfortyfive]

[Seashells and armor don't mix; that's true. Amused, Claire lifts her brows.]

I imagine you don't wear armor all the time. That'd be tiring, no?

[She watches him choose a shell. Somewhere, in a world that no longer exists, there was once a whole collection of seashells scattered on her daughter's dresser. Unlike herself, Bree liked to collect things. Her walls were plastered in posters and photographs, and there were a number of trinkets in her room that Claire couldn't even begin to tell the stories behind. Bree could, though.]

Someone in mind?

[pebblestone]

Most of the time. [ He admits it easily, though not without a frown. ] I wore it more often when I was a knight of the realm.

[ But that was back when Ylisse still existed, and when he was more pre-occupied with the local threats of war than the encroaching threat of a Storm he never even knew existed. Now he has no particular reason to wear his armor, the tensions between Olympia and Wyver having cooled for the time being.

He drops the cowrie shell off to the side by one foot, the beginnings of his own small collection pilfered from hers. ]

One of the princesses I served, Lady Lissa, frequently liked to make flower crowns and other things from whatever happened to be lying around. This reminded me of her, I suppose.

[ One of his favorite people in the world, despite their age gap. There's obvious fondness in his voice when he speaks of her, even without a smile on his face. ]

[nineteenfortyfive]

A knight? A knight to multiple princesses? Good lord. [She's met her fair share of knightly fellows, but perhaps not one that was actually a knight in service. She supposes he does fit the image one conjures when thinking of a knight---down to the calmness one should have. It doesn't distract Claire from the fact that he speaks of his princess with high regard.]

Then please, take all you'd like. If... she's in stasis, and she awakens, she'll be glad to know she was thought of.

[Maybe Percy might be, too. Claire shifts around some of the shells before clicking her tongue.]

I'm sorry. My name is Claire. And you are?

[pebblestone]

Two princesses and a prince.

[ Not said in any bragging manner, but simply to paint a clearer picture for Claire. All of it is moot, regardless; two of them lie sleeping above their heads, and the third...

Well. The less said of that, the clearer his head will be. Frederick offers Claire a wan smile, gratitude for her immediate offer. ]

That's kind of you. I'm sure she'd love to meet you and thank you, when she wakes up.

[ When, not if, because if there's anything Lissa's taught him, it's the value of optimism and hope. For now, introductions. ]

My name is Frederick, of Ylisse. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.

[ Crouched down as he is near the sand, it's impossible to give his usual customary bow, but he manages a deferential nod of his head all the same. ]

[nineteenfortyfive]

Wow. I bet you were busy.

[Said with a brief laugh--everyone was busy, once, and then they found themselves here. She hopes he's found something to fill the space, though there's an obvious place for a knight.]

Have you looked into the city guard yet? In Olympia. [Just in case he's visiting from Wyver. But that place hardly seems like it'd suit him, and that's only from a minute or two of chatting.]

It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Frederick. Or should I call you Sir Frederick?

[pebblestone]

It certainly was lively.

[ Busy, yes, but he wouldn't trade it for the world. Had essentially traded it for a completely new world, once the Storm had hit, and found this new world slightly lacking.

But it's a world and a life, which is more than he would have had if the Natha hadn't saved him, and so he supposes he ought to be grateful for it, repay some of their kindness back.

He looks at Claire at the question, one eyebrow raised. ]

Just Frederick is fine. No need to stand on formalities. [ Even if the habit's been drilled into him. ] And I haven't yet. I've only picked up odd jobs here and there.

Have you personal experience with the guard?

[ She doesn't strike him at as the combative type, but he's been surprised before. ]

[nineteenfortyfive]

Just Frederick, then. [A good answer. Claire's not one for titles in a land where they're all refugees. At his question, she gives a half-shrug.]

Not myself, but friends of mine are or have been a part of it. [Theon and Jon had left it, but Peggy and Steve still served... when people weren't kidnapped and tortured, anyway. She's actually not quite sure if Steve's resumed his position.]

I'm a doctor. [Definitely not a fighter. Argumentative, yes, but not a physical combatant.] A healer. The people I know that are more accustomed to battles and fighting tend to drift towards the guard. Of course, just because you fight doesn't mean you must continue to do so.

[pebblestone]

[ She says it casually, but the words are enough to earn a nod of appreciation from him. ]

A respected position. [ Or so he maintains. Easy enough to destroy, much harder to rebuild and comfort. ] I hope not to require your services any time soon, though I suspect that will not be the case.

[ Even if things seem fine enough now, with uneven peace laid carefully on the table between Wyver and Olympia, it's more than likely that something will explode without warning, in a far messier fashion than anyone expects.

He considers her words a moment, then sighs, mindlessly picking at shells all the while. ]

You have a point, but truthfully I wouldn't know what to do if I didn't fight. Knighthood was the expected path for me ever since I was a boy.