nysalogs | open | when the white winds blow

Entry tags:

open | when the white winds blow

Who: Sansa Stark (

unprays) & OPEN
What: after falling asleep for three days, Sansa wakes with new memories and Tries To Adjust
When: backdated; between August 26 and September 1
Where: Thesa Station, various places in Olympia
Warning(s): your standard this is game of thrones warnings

i. — thesa station

[ she doesn't remember falling asleep. she doesn't remember sleeping — what she remembers is living. she remembers Winterfell, she remembers the Wall, she remembers Lyanna Mormont's cool gaze, Ser Davos with his gruff tone, Lady Brienne's steady presence. she remembers the snow falling on her cheeks, she remembers the loud declarations that crowned her brother king.

anyone who is in the hall may see her standing there, in front of an empty pod. gently, she places her hand on the glass. ] You gave me answers that I thought I wanted, and now that I have them, I would forget them. You gave me back my home, and you took it from me.

[ even with the heavy furs on her shoulders, Sansa feels far colder than she ever did in Winterfell. ]

ii. — silk wyrms & shades darker

[ she explains her absence with a sudden illness, privately glad that she only works part-time, thus not missing more than one shift.

( a. ) she starts her day in the Silk Wyrms, sitting behind the counter, adding embroidery to some shirts, rising to greet anyone who enters with a sweet, polite greeting.

( b. ) after her working hours are over, she steels herself and enters the Red Light District — Lady Koralle had tasked her with mending the clothes that required it, and she would do it. after all, it was because of her that she had been given the place in Silk Wyrms. she looks painfully out of place, but at least she does not need to be there long: only to pick up the clothes and then leave.

as she does, though, anyone who so much as looks at her will be fixed with a cool gaze and the words, ] It isn't very polite to stare.

iii. — closed to the stark (& greyjoy & half-targaryen) house

[ as soon as she is out of the pod, out of the virtual reality she uses to see whether she could find her brothers there, she leaves the station and hurries to their house. she knows it has been days, and even though she has spoken with Jon after waking up, it is not the same as seeing him, seeing all of them. it seems like a distant dream, now, Robb being alive and well again... and Theon, Gods, Theon. she had thought she knew what she owed him, but she had been wrong, so wrong.

as soon as she has the door open, she calls out, ]

Jon? Robb? Theon? Is anyone home? [ home. it pains her to speak the word, it pains her to think of having Winterfell and losing it again... but this is what they have. this is home, for better or for worse... with all of them there. together. ]

iv. — wildcard

[ none of these prompts suit you? want something else? feel free to just wildcard me, or hit me up with a PM or over on plurk @ celen for plotting or for requesting a starter, i'm more than happy to write one for you!

also, with this canon update, i want to remind everyone sansa has an opt-out post here, if you want to opt out of any of the subjects that come up in her canon! ]

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[He had waited for her, his concerns eased in knowing that she would be home soon. After three days and no word from her, he had genuinely believed that she had returned to the pod for good or something far worse happened. Her voice had allayed those fears, but until he saw her, he wouldn't feel completely at ease.

The moment she calls out for him, he is already striding into the room. He doesn't normally hug, but he reaches out and draws her against him as he let out a sharp breath.]

What happened?

Sansa! [You's greeting is cheerful and chipper as ever as she ducks through the entrance, snapping a friendly wave and salute.] I missed you the other day! Were you not feeling well?

[ The room has felt, admittedly, empty since Nakatsu’s departure. Beyond ripping at one another’s throats with cruel japes and cruel words, he and Robb still aren’t speaking, and Theon avoids Jon as he always has. They’ve never been on particularly friendly terms.

He isn’t expecting Sansa’s voice, and nearly jumps at the sound of it. If she’s been gone for any length of time, he was unaware. It isn’t a selfish thing. He worries for her safety, as he does with Robb, the younger Starks still in stasis, and even, at times, Jon Snow by extension of his siblings’ woes. He merely assumed that she had been rooming with someone else until he and Robb could behave like adults. ]

Robb isn’t here. I assumed he had guard duty. I do not know where Snow is.

[ His eyebrows knit together as he stands to greet her. Something is different about her, but he can’t say what. If he were to put a finger on it, it would be her eyes. There’s something different behind them now; something he’s never seen in them before. It's enough to stave off one of his trademark smirks. ]

Has something happened?

Politeness was not my intention.

[ Asha is staring — not at Sansa's Tully looks in particular — just at Sansa. Arms folded, leaning against the wall. Her axe hangs off her belt, the only visible weapon, and her sea-leathers have been exchanged for something more fitting of the district. A sigil only to show she works with Lady Koralle. ]

[ She too is waiting for a delivery. But first — curiosity. ]

Will you be here often?

[ Every once in a while, Lena will be in the stasis unit. Sometimes she will be carrying flowers and other times food. It's mostly just a banana or a jar of peanut matter. Her friends -- and girlfriend -- might not be dead, but she still wishes to give them presents for whenever they wake up.

With some fresh flowers in her arms, she was walking towards Sansa's direction before she paused to try to hear what she is saying. Her choice of words make her curious and the way she speaks feels old. A faint smile spreading out on Lena's lips, she slowly steps towards her. ]

Are you alright, love?

[If it were anyone else, Rocket would have poked fun for days of them talking to a sleeping person who probably can't hear them, but it's Sansa and she's been away for a few days, so he's mildly inclined to hold his tongue.

Sort of. He approaches her, talking as he walks.] Heh. Who's gettin' all your piss and vinegar there, Sansa? That bastard don't-

[He stops talking when he stops in front of the pod, his tail suddenly lashing in instant agitation.] Shit. It's empty.

[As in any decent establishment, Rose is greeted as soon as she walks in the door of the Silk Wyrms. She gives a nod in acknowledgement, but otherwise heads straight to quietly look through the selection of fabrics and raw materials, leaving the shopgirl to her embroidery.

She is a girl on a mission, though, and so when several minutes pass without her finding what she needs, Rose heads back to the counter, polite but without preamble.]

Sorry to interrupt your work, but do you carry yarn?

[ she isn't someone to offer hugs easily, either, but she throws her arms around Jon in a mirror of their reunion in the forest, as well as back home — it is only now that she realizes what he must have remembered and she did not.

she clings to him for a moment before letting go, stepping back. ]

I fell asleep. They tell me there was something wrong... a malfunction. That I should have remembered more than I did. Lived more than I had. [ her eyes grow cold as she looks past Jon, at something, someone only she can see. ] Now I have.

[ her coworker is cheerful as ever, and it is just as infectious as it always is — it is hard not to smile back, and so Sansa does, a small but genuine smile as she puts down her embroidery. ]

Yes... something like that. Forgive me for not sending notice. I hope you are well today, You.

[You does not sense anything duplicitous in Sansa's answer whatsoever, so it never once crosses her mind that there might have been another explanation.

She sets her bag down on the floor next to her usual seat.] It's fine! I totally know how it gets when you're feeling crummy and you don't want to do anything. I'm glad you're feeling better now!

Honestly, you didn't miss much.

[ his assumption isn't wrong: she had stayed with Asta, Jon's friend who was kind enough to offer both of them a temporary place of reprieve from the constant shouting, the cruel words exchanged at every turn.

still; the past days she has not spent on this planet at all, and where only three days have passed for her brothers, months upon months have passed for her, enough for her nameday to come and go, for her name to change from Lannister to Bolton to Stark.

she exhales a shaky breath as Theon rises, as his voice (so, so different from what she now remembers) fills the air between them. her hands shake. ]

Theon — [ her voice is lower, her eyes older, her skin more hardened. she looks at him like he is a ghost, a mirage, a wonder. for a moment it seems as though she is frozen, thinking of what to say; then, she moves, quick steps that cross the distance between them in a second. she throws her arms around him, her words but a murmur. ]

I thought I knew what I owed you, but I didn't, I didn't.

No, I suppose it was not.

[ she takes in the woman's appearance — the axe, her clothes, her face. wondering why it is that she seems familiar. ]

As often as I am required to be. [ her response is diplomatic, yet her tone betrays just how little she likes being here, and how she wishes she does not have to make these trips often. ]

[ Sansa is slow to turn to face the girl that addresses her, but when she does, her eyes land first on the flowers. the smile that appears on her lips is faint, wistful. ]

I am awake, [ she responds, lifting the gaze of her blue eyes from the flowers to Lena's face, meeting her eyes. ] I am alive. Isn't that more important than being alright?

[ Shades Darker isn't Jyn's ideal place of work but it provides invaluable opportunities. she dresses as she always does, all dark colours, mildly dirtied by today's work. she carries more weapons than before, with two truncheons secured to her back. the additional gear means less people speak to her, when she has her cloak removed. an ideal arrangement, really.

the job has other perks, too. Poe mans the bar, ensuring free drinks drift her way whenever possible. she enjoys a light draft now at no expense, surveying the area from her stool. at the sight of Sansa Stark, of all people, she raises her brows. ]

I'm not in the habit of being overly polite. [ but it's said with a sideways smile. ]

[ He doesn’t wish to speak of this. Even now, it twists his mind and his stomach into knots, knowing that others hold memories of him that he knows nothing of. It makes him feel as though he’s begun to slip into madness, like his uncles. Aeron, Victorian, Euron—each one of them has been touched by madness. Why should he escape that fate by the sheer luck of being raised away from the islands?

For a moment, he stands shocked, puzzled, uncertain of what to do. She’s never embraced him before. He can’t think of a time when anyone in Winterfell ever truly had, but this is a particularly strange case. To him, it reads like a person seeking comfort, and there’s little he can do but offer it. Hesitating, he returns the gesture, wrapping his arms around her loosely enough to allow escape but tightly enough to offer comfort. ]

Sansa—

[ Theon is capable of a horrifically cruel tongue. He’s shown that on multiple occasions over the years, but this isn’t one of them. Sansa hasn’t angered him. She’s merely confused him, and that’s not worth a sharp remark. If anything, he speaks gently. ]

Whatever it is that you believe you owe me—do not. You owe me nothing. Not here.

[ Not at all. ]

Do you wish for me to find your brothers?

Nope!

[ Her response is quick and she steps a little closer to Sansa, but makes sure to keep some distances between them because she isn't to get in her personal bubble. ]

They're as important as each other, or at least that is what I believe because how else are you going to enjoy being awake and alive? [ She glances at the empty pod. Because, as much as she would love for her friends to be awake, she would prefer that they're okay before coming to the world of the living. It would hurt her to see them suffering. ]

[ With the advent of new refugees waking up in the Station, Prompto has picked up his old habit of patrolling these halls again, of visiting the spaces he knew his friends still rested in hopes of the off-chance that maybe this time when he walks by, he won't find them there. And for those that still are...well. He knows Darma is doing everything she can to keep them alive and well, but there's still peace of mind to be found in seeing them with his own eyes, even in stasis.

It's a melancholy sort of vigil, one of the few things he prefers to do by himself, but that doesn't mean company isn't welcome, especially when it's him stumbling on it. He doesn't quite make out what Sansa says, because when he spots her up the corridor ahead, he stops. Sometimes...people are better left to themselves in here, but -

But...the pod she's standing next to is empty. And it's hard for him, one so naturally inclined to try and bring warmth and light to others, to see someone standing by themselves in such a solemn place as this and do nothing.

So, after his moment of hesitation, he approaches, quiet footfalls as he holds his hands clasped behind his back with a slight but reserved smile on his face. ]

Think they can hear us?

[ She's free to take "they" to mean whatever she wants it to. ]

As am I.

[ But she takes greater pleasure and is much more comfortable in places like these. At home, her name would have been enough to remain unmolested. Here, her fierce exterior keeps others away, if not the sight of the axe. ]

These streets have all manner of scoundrel.

[ She tilts her chin up, smirking. ]

[ they cross paths down the length of an empty hallway, one of the many long and winding ones on the station. him, coming off fresh from another quick teleportation down onto olympia, a currently-empty totebag in hand, and her, dressed to the nines in heavy furs and an expression so foreign to him, he almost doesn't recognize her for it.

but it's pretty hard to miss that particular shade of red. ]

—Sansa...?

[ he lingers in the hallway, no more than fifteen paces away from her. she's in the shadows, and he's just stepped out of the light, and so it flanks his back, outlining more his silhouette than his features. ]

What're you doing here?

[The hug is enough to indicate how much she remembered. That happiness and relief rivaling her arrival at the Wall. Just as he did then, he catches hold of her and sweeps her up, holding her close.

When at last she lets go, he sets her down and steps back as well.]

A malfunction? [He didn't like the sound of it or what it implied, but it seemed to have given Sansa more memories than she had before. Suddenly, he felt a great deal less lonely and burdened.] What do you remember?

[ Edmund visits the station sometimes, to check up on his siblings, to find other Narnians in a hopelessly large maze full of people from other worlds. It's always a long shot, but it gives him something to do on days when he has nothing planned, but walking around also helps clear the mind. When Newt and Daenerys disappeared without a trace from the world below, the station was the last place he thought to look into — though it should have been the first. They are in their pods now, sleeping once more. Whatever malfunction occurred somewhere, at the very least they are housed in there — safe for the moment.

So he's aware, sort of, that there's a possibility for them to return to the pods somehow, though whatever question he and others have remain unanswered. All they have are the Orbiters, hovering, and the pods, holding others into a deep sleep. What he's not aware is what occurs when others wake up from their sleep a second time. ]

— Lady Sansa.

[ He hears the words, but like others, he doesn't understand just yet the significance. ]

[ and just as she did then, she holds on to him like a lifeline, like for one moment she still remembers just how it feels, to think that he is the only Stark left aside from her, to think that it is only the two of them against everyone.

(it is not, not any longer... but she will never forget. she is a Stark of Winterfell, and the North remembers.)

she tilts her head down, smiles only slightly. ] The Northern lords named you King in the North... and a white raven arrived. Father's promise came true.

I am glad, too.

[ she breathes out a laugh, a quiet sound, but one that speaks of relief — not only for the reassurance, but also for her explanation passing without further inquiry. ]

Perhaps not... but I did miss a day I should have been here. I hope it didn't inconvenience you very much.

[ the hesitant, stiff way he puts his arms around her is a sharp reminder that this, this is not the Theon she remembers — not the Theon who helped her escape, not the one who was willing to face the dogs and lie, only to save her. the one who urged her into the icy river so they would not face a worse fate.

she tightens her arms for a moment, fiercely glad that he remembers nothing, glad that he, at least, still has been spared the horrific memories of Ramsay Bolton. then she steps back. ]

I do. I do. You may think I do not, and you're right — it is not you I owe my life, that I am myself still... but I do owe everything to Theon Greyjoy, and that is who you are, isn't it? That you don't remember doesn't matter. What matters is that I do.

[ she pauses, considers his question... then shakes her head. ] No, don't. You're here. That's enough.

All streets do, [ she responds, matter-of-fact. ] A road back where I come from was said to have been safe for a girl to travel in her nameday suit, but times have changed. No road is safe to travel unless you're prepared for the scoundrels.

[ much harder to be caught unawares, then... though the other does have a point. more scoundrels here, she'd imagine. ] ... especially not a road that leads to a brothel.

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open | when the white winds blow

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i, cool to assume they exchange names in our other thread, y/y?

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wildcards you sorry to add to your pile....

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