Bree (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
givingback) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
nysalogs2018-09-11 02:32 pm
givingback) wrote in nysalogs2018-09-11 02:32 pm
} open
Who: Brianna Randall (givingback) & OPEN
What: Heading back to where everyone's hanging out in stasis.
When: September 12th.
Where: The Station
Warning(s): death of a parent conversations likely.
[ It's not even mid-month yet, and already, Bree's had a more exhausting September than she's ever had in her life. Her mother? Possessed - literally. That would be enough, but the ghosts, the wailing, the missing of the dead was all too much. Enough to push Bree into finally getting back to the station, back to where everyone is still in stasis.
It's not hard to find the room once there, and as she stares at all the pods she wonders how they choose who gets to wake and who doesn't. A daughter needs her father with her, right? Or maybe it's enough that she has her mother. Maybe it's enough that she has a father she doesn't even know well yet. Walking among the pods, she finds Frank easily enough. His glasses are on his face and she closes her eyes for a second against a laugh that's half amusement half...something else. ]
Can't forget your reading glasses.
[ She murmurs that softly, touching the pod feather lightly before looking up at his sleeping (?) face. ]
You have no idea how much I miss you. Sometimes, back home, it still felt like a dream. I keep walking back through that day because it seems so impossible. You were alive in the morning when I came downstairs. You were alive when I went to the library. You were alive when I was at the movie. And then you weren't. You were just gone. You were gone in between me buying popcorn and watching Tunga Khan executing all the missionaries. It isn't fair.
[ Taking a deep breath and wiping away a tear, she slides down and sits on the floor right by his pod. And she talks to him. About everything. He probably can't hear her, but she tells him she knows about Jamie, about the stones and all the rest of it, talking to him for hours before finally sounding like she's wrapping up. ]
I wish they would wake you up. I'm here, and we could have more time together. All you have to do is wake up, dad.
[ She's not even aware that anyone else has entered the room with her, sitting with her knees curled up to her chest. ]
givingback) & OPEN What: Heading back to where everyone's hanging out in stasis.
When: September 12th.
Where: The Station
Warning(s): death of a parent conversations likely.
[ It's not even mid-month yet, and already, Bree's had a more exhausting September than she's ever had in her life. Her mother? Possessed - literally. That would be enough, but the ghosts, the wailing, the missing of the dead was all too much. Enough to push Bree into finally getting back to the station, back to where everyone is still in stasis.
It's not hard to find the room once there, and as she stares at all the pods she wonders how they choose who gets to wake and who doesn't. A daughter needs her father with her, right? Or maybe it's enough that she has her mother. Maybe it's enough that she has a father she doesn't even know well yet. Walking among the pods, she finds Frank easily enough. His glasses are on his face and she closes her eyes for a second against a laugh that's half amusement half...something else. ]
Can't forget your reading glasses.
[ She murmurs that softly, touching the pod feather lightly before looking up at his sleeping (?) face. ]
You have no idea how much I miss you. Sometimes, back home, it still felt like a dream. I keep walking back through that day because it seems so impossible. You were alive in the morning when I came downstairs. You were alive when I went to the library. You were alive when I was at the movie. And then you weren't. You were just gone. You were gone in between me buying popcorn and watching Tunga Khan executing all the missionaries. It isn't fair.
[ Taking a deep breath and wiping away a tear, she slides down and sits on the floor right by his pod. And she talks to him. About everything. He probably can't hear her, but she tells him she knows about Jamie, about the stones and all the rest of it, talking to him for hours before finally sounding like she's wrapping up. ]
I wish they would wake you up. I'm here, and we could have more time together. All you have to do is wake up, dad.
[ She's not even aware that anyone else has entered the room with her, sitting with her knees curled up to her chest. ]
no subject
He comes closer, nodding at the girl.] I'm Robb. My father's not awake here either.
no subject
Stark? I...my mother knows a lot of people from your world. I think we live in your old home.
[ She's not sure if it was ever his or if his father built it, Claire never went into that much detail. Just that it was the Stark home. ]
Did your father die, too?
[ Bree doesn't mean for it to sound callous; she assumes if he was listening that he put together hers is. ]
no subject
Somehow it feels a little different here.
He shrugs, shaking it off.] Aye. He was. I was just on my way to pay him my respects when I found you. [He can't help the wry smile. If she's here, surely she'll understand what it is to want to visit those who are no longer with you.] This is your fath-
[Bree can't possibly miss the way Robb's eyes grow wide when he turns to look at the man behind the glass.]
no subject
She looks up at Frank the same time Robb does, then frowns a little. ]
What?
no subject
He turns to Bree, sharly-] Where are you from?
no subject
America. You've probably never heard of it. [ If she had to guess. ]
I'm not from a world with kingdoms or kings and queens.
[ Well, there is royalty, but you know what, not like Robb and Theon's world so she'll just leave that out. ]
no subject
believe since waking up here. Half frowning he looks back at the man. Are there others here who looks like people he knows?
THe last thing she's said catches up with him.] No Kings of Queens? Who rules?
no subject
Well, a long time ago, a group of people were ruled by one king and queen decided that the crown used too much religion to justify their causes and there needed to be a better way to bring people to power. So, they left for a new world, it grew over the decades, and eventually - with a separation of church and country - a few men asked people to vote for them in order to become what we call the President. Whoever is the most popular gets to serve as leader for four years, and can either ask the people to re-elect him, or someone else can challenge and possibly win.
[ She pauses, biting her bottom lip for a second. ]
Does that make sense?