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

Entry tags:

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

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.]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Not at all. Are we going to see Reek today, or my lady wife? [He's not an idiot, he knows that Claire likely won't go to either place- but there's fun to be had in ensuring that he knows that all he'd have to do is follow Claire to find them.

Not that he needs help finding Reek.]

I wouldn't know who either of those people are.

[There is no Reek in Olympia, and Sansa is not his wife. Though Claire looks thoughtful, and hums, keeping an eye on her unwanted companion as well as their surroundings.]

I wonder how many times a girl has to kill you for you to understand a simple concept.

[He laughs as if she's told a fine joke, looking for all the world as though this is a lovely stroll back from the market with a dear friend.]

You wouldn't know about that would you, Claire? Didn't have the stomach for even a little stab.

I didn't feel like having my throat slit that day.

[If not worse. She knows, and others have reassured her as much that she did the right thing by not taking the bait, but Christ if she hasn't thought about it even more now that she's seen what's become of Theon. It wouldn't change what he experienced in stasis, no, but...

It'd make her feel better.]

Hasn't my wife told you anything about me? Slitting throats is hardly my approach. [It's all over so... quickly that way.] But I suppose you've seen Reek, now.

He's hardly representative either, for the record. Not the work I did though. [Here he wrinkles his nose. The other Ramsay's work is something he's not sure how he feels about yet. Generally it makes him angry to think of it- to think of another him out there, living another life to his. With Claire, though, he tries to hide that anger.]

[Ramsay calling Sansa his wife makes her blood boil as much as Theon calling him lord. Both are grossly wrong. She doesn't give a shit what some little boy on a throne said. That world no longer exists.]

Not that creative, are you?

[The teeth were a horrifying touch. Enough for him to keep them, but broken enough to make using them painful.]

[He snorts, clearly dismissing Claire as someone who wouldn't understand his views.] Anyone can knock a man's teeth out.

[This is probably where she should stop, but this is Claire Fraser. She doesn't do that.]

Any brute. What was done to Theon seems much more deliberate.

[He shrugs the shrug of someone who thinks they know better.] You could do it, if you had the balls.

If I were twisted enough, you mean.

[Slight correction there. She's removed plenty of teeth in her lifetime, but as a healer. It's never been to inflict suffering.

She stares at Ramsay for a long moment.

Maybe if they ever got him into that little house Sansa's hidden away, she might change her tune.]

[That gets another laugh out of him.] Sansa's fed me to my dogs and then her wolf. Would you call her twisted?

[That probably shouldn't make her want to laugh. All she does is smile, like the proud mother she is.]

Clever, is what I'd call her.

Clever is turning Theon fucking Greyjoy into a useful human being.

[Oh, there was the potential for cleverness in Sansa. He sees it now as he hadn't seen before (she'd been hiding it from him, the little bitch) and he's sure that with the right push she might even be molded into someone he'd enjoy spending time with.]

I think you have a different definition of useful than the rest of the world.

[She's mildly curious. Might as well, since they're going to be circling the stalls and vendors until he gets bored of her.]

But I do suppose I owe you some thanks.

[The rest of the world wasn't worth his time, as far as Ramsay was concerned.]

Oh? Whatever for?

You, and your other-you, gave Theon something he was lacking before. Someone that cares for him, regardless of the name he has, or whatever shit you manage to make him believe. I don't expect you to understand it, because God knows you've never had such a relationship, but it makes all the difference in the world.

[... or not. She'll see, when the time comes. She shouldn't be trying to get a rise out of Ramsay, or even talking to him at all, but there's a truth to her words. If not for that missing finger, they wouldn't be as close as they are now.]

He has someone that loves him because of you. So, thank you, Ramsay.

[For a fraction of a second Ramsay doesn't know how to respond. It's so completely-- ridiculous and unexpected that he almost laughs in her face.

But she's fucking serious. He stops in his tracks, stepping right up into her so she'll either have to step back or deal with him staring at her with wild, angry eyes. In a fluid motion he drops the shopping, one hand going to grab her wrist and the other going for the knife on his belt-

And he stops. He doesn't want to stop. He wants nothing more than to put his knife through her wrist. Another heartbeat passes as he stares her down, murder barely contained in his expression.

Alison, now on Claire's other side, is barking in deep menacing tones. She's excited, but trained enough to know to wait for Ramsay's command or for the prey to run.]

Quiet! [That's for the dog, though he shouts it into Claire's face. It'll be another heartbeat before he musters what he wants to say to Claire.]

[Move, her mind screams, but he has her wrist before she can complete her step back. As much as she draws parallels between Randall and Ramsay, there's something much more animistic in the beast before her. Randall was a monster that strutted around in the skin of a gentleman. Ramsay isn't able to pull human off as convincingly, the costume peeling up at the edges. Especially when picked at in just the right spots. She sees it now.

No wonder Theon's so terrified.

For once, the dog is the least of her concerns, and she jumps when he yells. She's determined not to look away. There's fear in her eyes, but the set of her jaw almost dares him to take his knife and do what he wishes. Maim her, kill her. Do it in plain sight. Hopefully the Natha would bring her back in time to spit on whatever remains of his body. She's told enough people about him and she's been very particular about that.

The raised voice and the barking dog has turned some heads and distracted people from their shopping. Claire nearly points it out, reminds him of the consequences, but no matter how much she wants to provoke him he's spooked her voice away.]

[Alison, not quite as obedient as she'd been before Ramsay left her in Theon's care for a month or two, takes a moment to stop barking. Even when she does the growling persists.

His dog's obedience is the least of his concerns when it's so easy to envision how he'd take the knife to her. It'd be the work of only two or three quick cuts to have her bleeding out, a long slow bleeding out, laying in the dust of the street. The fucking cunt deserves it and just the image of it goes a long way to keeping his knife in its sheath.

Another heartbeat passes, then his expression turns from a murderous scowl to a pleasant smile. It's a mechanical change, as Claire will be able to tell from this close, as though he's heard about what a smile should look like and learned how to put one on just for the sake of others. He doesn't release her wrist, but instead moves his hand from the knife at his belt to her shoulder.

Leaning in, he whispers cheerfully:] Get out of line with Reek and I'll ensure you live through the flaying I give you so just so you're alive when I feed you to my dog.

[If she has nothing to say to that, he'll release her and reach down for the bag he dropped, still smiling beatifically.]

[The moment she feels his grip slacken she wretches her wrist back, like it was her own strength that freed her. It takes her a moment to regain her courage and for her heart to stop pounding so hard her ribs ache.

Crisis seemingly averted, people begin to go about their business once more. If only they knew.]

You're in no position to threaten me. [Says the woman also in no position to give threats.] What do you think will happen if you do anything to me? Or Theon, or Sansa? There are people far stronger than some bastard with a dog. People I've been sure to tell about you.

[Sansa's a clever girl, but her attempt to protect others from Ramsay by not kicking up a fuss didn't do anyone any favors.]

[There are some things Ramsay will tolerate.

Being called a bastard is not one of them. He rises with the bag of groceries, his smile now all teeth and danger. His voice is low when he speaks, meant only for her.] Telling others about me? What good do you think that'll do?

[He holds the grocery bag out for her to take, his other hand going for his dagger once more.]

I go missing, or something happens to me--who do you think they'll look at first? And last I checked, you're no longer a lord, if you ever were in the first place. You have no men. Nothing more than the hole they granted you when you crawled out of stasis. You don't even have Theon, do you?

[She's not going for that bag. Bold as her words might be, she's too frightened to reach out.]

[Fine, if she won't take the bag, he'll lean closer to all but force it against her chest.] Theon Greyjoy doesn't exist now.

[He can't even sound triumphant about it, he's still livid with anger about the bastard comment. Oh, but wouldn't it be nice to bury the dagger he has at his side right through her fucking chest.]

[That pushes some of the wind out of her, arms reflexively coming up to grab the bag. Her heart is pounding so hard against her chest that she's glad for that extra coverage to muffle something she's sure must be audible.]

If that helps you sleep at night, Ramsay.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

BELATED CONTENT WARNING FOR RAMSAY AND VIOLENT THOUGHTS/LANGUAGE

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

content warnings for violent thoughts!!

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject