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Who: Loras Tyrell (

triplerose) & open (with closed starters in comments).
What: Some here and there in the midst of the chaos (aka October Catch All)
When: October.
Where: Around Olympia and Wyver.
Warning(s): TBD.

(i. The Sanctuary. Ish.)

[ Loras has never seen or known anything like this. No great plagues have struck Westeros, not in his time, and it's terrifying. To say the least. Though Loras will never openly admit that. He's lucky, he knows. The sickness has spread to neither him nor his sister, he has the ability to help, to atone for any wrongdoings he may have committed in the past.

His feet, more often than not, carry him to the sanctuary. Loras never goes inside. He'd not know the first thing about helping, though he thinks they might not care. He could be put to task to anything. This was never his strong suit, it was his sister's, a habit Loras himself had never quite picked up on. So he loiters rather than make himself useful - but at least well out of the way of anything who might hurry in or out.]

(ii. The Marketplace.)

[ The market is never dull. In an effort to not stay at home all day, Loras comes here first. It's interesting, and he's making acquaintances. People who he recognizes and can say hello to and inquire about their day. It's actually quite soothing. It's helping him settle in.

Today, he's on a mission. He's looking for a stall or a cart that sells flowers. Roses, preferably, red ones. Something like roses would do just as well. Loras is picky, though, and they have to be perfect. Perfect for his unwell friend, and for another friend's unwell sister - something to brighten grim days. ]

(iii. Train Station.)

[ Loras doesn't have silver to spend on a train ride to Flona Cove. A fact, of course, that fills him with a pang of sadness. A pang replaced by jealousy as he sees people embark and disembark the train, smiling and easy. He'd quite liked it there, with the beaches and the careless attitude that everyone so easily adopted. Absently, he thinks he'll need to find a way to earn coin, so he can go back there again.

It's not a complete loss, though. Standing against some railings in view of the station, Loras likes to watch the train. He's fascinated by it, the thrill of seeing it and the puff of smoke still as novel as the first time. Though he's not sure he can stand around for another hour, just to see it arrive and take off. ]

(iv. Wild Card.)

Choose your own adventure!

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[ The little home they share is nothing like the homes they're used to. It's no Red Keep nor Storm's End, nor can it ever pretend to reach the glory of Highgarden. But it's home, and they're together, and Margaery has a way of brightening up any place. In his way, Loras is learning to appreciate the simplicity of it. Slowly.

Sitting on his bed, he's hunched over the device they've been given that allows them to access their network. Technology, it's called. A funny word for a funny thing. But he's bored, and his fingers itch for a sword, or to take a horse out. He can't do anything about either of those, so he figures he'll try and learn this technology better. ]

Can you imagine if we'd had this instead of ravens?

Edited 2017-10-10 08:20 (UTC)

( it's something margaery had considered before. how easier would life had been, if they had been able to send letters instantaneously, instead of waiting for a raven to come and go? would it really have changed anything? the things they have in el nysa are certainly amazing, nothing she would have ever dreamed of - especially in westeros - but she also can't imagine it influencing the direction their world and lives took. ambition remains the same no matter what changes around the person.

still, with her own device taken out of her pocket (and the clothing here is so strange! the dresses are shorter, women are seen wearing trousers... it's so different from what she had been raised to wear), margaery sits next to her brother on his bed, staring at the strange little thing. )

It would have made conversing with others far away much easier. Or sending hidden love notes. ( a teasing smile twists her lips upwards. ) Seeing this now..? It makes our home feel so outdated. I'd never even considered it before.

[ His own lips quirk up into a smile. ] I'm not so certain Renly was ever the sort for love notes. [ He doesn't mention the name often, or even make many passing remarks in regards to Renly that aren't solicited or necessary. In the funniest ways, it was Stannis Baratheon who helped break down that wall, with the news that Renly is well and sleeping in one of those pods. That takes a weight off of Loras' shoulders. The knowledge that some day Renly might possibly walk among them again makes Loras much more willing to adapt to this place.

Margaery's words do cause him some thought. Outdated seems the right word for it. Loras has felt like that since the start, though, and it's funny because their family had always been the forward thinking sort. Loras looks to his sister, giving her a comforting sort of look. ] Home was simple and beautiful. I'd take Highgarden and it's outdatedness in favour of this any day.

I'm sure you could have swayed him. ( it's a step in the right direction that he's able to say her former husband's name. they were in love, and of course it was almost the end of loras's world to lose him - but it seems to be getting easier for him, and margaery can only be content knowing that one day he'll be fine, that they will be able to move on, and maybe one day renly will join them in this world and loras's world will have some light in it again. )

I agree. ( the gardens and fields surrounding their home were something she missed most. after having been in king's landing for so long since leaving, it was difficult to remember what it smelt like, how it felt to walk through them. it would have been nice to be able to do so again. ) It's strange to think that this is it. That this will have to be... home.

[ He scrunches up his nose, then, after a moment, sets aside his device. ] We've always adapted to our circumstances. [ Well, she did it better than him, but they were Tyrells. They'd carve their path here and rise up to their status.
It's a long fall from the best knight in Westeros and Queen. ]

Once things have settled, we can begin to make our names again. The way it should be.

( margaery concedes to that with a nod, turning slightly more towards loras and slipping her arm around his, as though the closeness will make being in a new world easier somehow. having him there is a comfort that she couldn't begin to describe her gratefulness for, but she isn't sure how she would have coped without him being here - better than she thinks, perhaps, but not as well as she is now.

it had been a long road even back home, becoming a knight and a Queen, full of secrets, lies, manipulations. maybe it will be different here.

hopefully it will be. ) We're Tyrells. Of course that is how it will be. ( she gives him a small nudge, teasing in her usual way. ) You'll certainly be the handsomest and the best at whatever we do here.

[ Loras just laughs, ducking his head. It's the easiest they've been with each other in a long time. In Westeros, as much as they love one another, their tensions were strained. This is nice. This reminds him of better days.

His hand goes to his head, where his hair is beginning to grow out again, the curls slowly starting to form. ]

I'll feel better once this has grown out. You were always better at things than I was. [ Loras is certain that Margaery would have been a formidable knight had she ever felt so inclined. By his luck, she preferred gowns to armor. ]

( being away from the sept, king's landing, the political landscape they had to tread every day - it certainly made things easier. even with the people from their own world here, or the ones they knew were currently in stasis, being away from their home world seemed to be good for them. especially with how things were for both in the last weeks they had - the last months, even.

and his curls are coming back. margaery never thought she'd be so glad over something so simple. )

That's not true. I couldn't wield a sword at all, even if I had tried to. And you were always better at loving and being loved. ( despite it being a secret, he and renly had been so good in a bad world. certainly it wasn't a perfect relationship, renly being married to the sister of his lover, but it was something good.

meanwhile margaery had three husbands and loved none of them, and wasn't loved by them, and had to bribe the common people with a mask in order to become a Queen they would adore. admiration isn't quite close to something margaery would long for, if she hadn't been so ambitious about where she wanted to place herself in the world. )

We could be at this for hours.

[ Loras adores no one more than his sister. He'll gladly continue to compliment her as long as she does him, and neither will let the other win in this game.

Though he knows they both have their faults. Margaery wins favour with her apparent kindness and Loras wins favour because he's a champion. Neither of them are well liked by the people for being themselves.</small ] Shall we call it a draw?

( margaery laughs brightly at that, because it certainly is true. outside of the ambitions she had created for herself, or even before those things, family was always the most important thing she could think of. loras was on the top of that list, even with how things had become aggravated at home. )

Certainly. I don't want to be old and wrinkly by the time we're finished. ( though perhaps they would run out of things to say before that. ) So, my favourite brother, tell me. Have you met anyone here yet? Made friends with the locals - or new locals, as it were?

I would hope I'm your favourite brother.

[ Another small laugh. At her question he shrugs, then his face scrunches while he thinks. Has he made friends? Not really, no. Not many. Not that Loras was ever the sort to have many friends. He had his sister and he had Renly, and everyone else was an acquaintance, or simply people who latched on to the Tyrell name. ]

I suppose. I've made a friend from Westeros, of all places, a sweet man from the north. His name is Willem. You would like him, he's kind.

I don't think I have much choice in the matter.

( though even if there had been more, margaery doesn't doubt that loras would still be her favoured. they're close enough that she could call him her closest friend out of anyone else, even. she considers herself quite lucky that loras is her brother, all things considered. she could have been a lannister, like her late husbands, and related to the first and worst one. )

You'll have to introduce me one day. Even if it's only one, I'm glad you've made a bond with someone.

I will. I think he'd be quite pleased to meet the queen.

[ Another smile. For what it's worth, Margaery will be queen in his eyes as much as Renly will be king. But she's right - it is nice to have a friend. They're lives, as popular as they ever were, had been lonely in the end. ]

I'm certain you've charmed plenty of people since we've arrived.

I'm hardly a queen anymore. Nor a Lady, for that matter. Here I have become simply Margaery.

( a weird change, and not one she really appreciates. the power that had come with being a tyrell and queen both had been addictive, her dreams and ambitions come true. but here she was just like everybody else. it was taking some getting used to. )

I have met some friendly people. A friend or two. I should introduce you to Eggsy. He has a curious name, but he is kind - I think you would like him.

You will always be a queen in my eyes.

[ He means it, of course he does. Loras had done everything he could to help put Margaery exactly where she needed to be, and the people had loved her. Being here didn't change that. Not to him, anyway. ]

Sometimes, I try to think of what our grandmother would do if she were here. By now, I suspect she'd have made her name known to everyone. I miss her quite terribly.

[ It's been a bit of time since the two had last spoken. Loras is sure that Willem isn't sick, so he tries his chances at his friend's door. Mostly to check up on Willem - or maybe to distract himself. Probably more the latter, if he's honest, but he can't keep feeling sorry for himself.

This is home now. Things were awful, and now they're not great, but they'll get better. And keeping up relationships is key to carving out a life here.

So Willem will have a knock knock knock on his door in the late hours of the morning. ]

[For now, Ramsay has the whole place to himself. The place is a mess, without anyone there to pick up after him, but he doesn't mind. He spends most of his time out in the streets, discovering what he can.

The front door is pulled open with a clean jerk, and there's half a second when Ramsay's expression is dark and determined. Then he recognises that the man isn't who he thought it was and a thoughtful look takes its place.]

Loras. [A beat, then he smiles.] Loras! How lovely that you've come to visit. You ought to have said.

[He has one arm behind his back. Don't ask.]

[ He's a little taken aback at first, catching the quick look and the beat of hesitation. But he does smile, if not a bit hesitantly himself. ]

I'm sorry if I've interrupted - I was passing by and thought I'd check on you - I can return later.

Not at all. Would you like to come in?

[The hand he'd held behind his back sweeps wide to invite the blond through the door. There's a large kitchen knife held there. It's totally normal, okay.]

[ Well. Maybe not normal, but there are enough good reasons as to why someone might be holding a kitchen knife at the door - such as getting interrupted unexpectedly while cooking - that Loras doesn't pay it as much mind as he should. He cracks a weak sort of smile and steps in. ]

Thank you. You're certain I'm not imposing?

[ Theon has been an infrequent visitor to the Sanctuary this month. He’s come for two purposes: to harass the healers, and to check in on Sansa. He’s found a new mistrust in the Starks, but he still cares about them deeply. He can’t stop himself from concerning himself with them.

First through the door today is a black dog who makes directly for Loras (clearly hoping for food), followed by Theon who looks as though he’s neither slept nor eaten properly in the last two weeks. ]

Nagga.

[ He snaps at the dog, clearly irritated, but her interest in Loras seems to grow with Theon’s cross tone. She ignores her sometimes-master (honestly, she’s yet to decide if she prefers Theon or the Stark children), choosing instead to sniff at Loras’s boots. Rolling his eyes, he approaches. Only then does he choose to address the other man. ]

I’ve been here twice this week. I’ve seen you here both times.

[ It isn’t an accusatory tone. For all his mistrust, he doesn’t feel any anger. He just looks exhausted and confused. He hasn’t allowed himself much rest since the explosion, but he does remember Loras. A Southerner, a Tyrell, a greenlander who cannot swim. ]

Have you been inside to see Lady Sansa? As I recall, you said you knew her.

[ The dog startles Loras for a moment. When he comes to the decision that she seems harmless, he bends over a little, to give her a sort of pat on the head. He waits until he straightens up to look at the owner.

Loras' own recollection is much the same - a name, the fact that islanders let children drown, and he knows the Starks. ]

I - No. [ He should. He knows he should. He will. ] Not yet. I would feel I was imposing on her family or her closer friends.

If you were a friend to her at all, it would please her to see you.

[ He wouldn’t be so certain, if he hadn’t already seen so many unfamiliar faces filtering in and out. He can’t name half of them, but he isn’t surprised. People like Sansa. It’s difficult not to like the Stark children, even when actively trying to despise them. Theon would know; he spent spent his first year in Winterfell trying desperately to hate Robb and his bastard brother. In the end, he wound up with only with a mild dislike of Jon.

Loras doesn’t seem like the malicious sort, and he thinks Sansa would like to see a familiar face from home; one that isn't Robb's or Jon's or his own. He watches as Nagga settles down beside Loras, wagging her tail as though she's accomplished something splendid. Theon doesn’t seem to take offense at her tiny betrayal. She’s a disloyal hound and this is not new behavior. Instead, he eyes the Sanctuary building over his shoulder and directs his anger there. ]

These maesters will say nothing.

[ It might be a half snarl, but he lacks the energy to make it certain. ]

I do not believe they know anything at all. They’re useless, the lot of them. I've seen no improvement. If anything, they've all gotten worse.

Maybe tomorrow. She needs her rest.

[ But Theon's words make him frown. What use is a group of maesters if they're unable to perform their necessary obligations? It makes him feel almost more useless in this whole ordeal. ]

Sansa is strong willed. I believe her health will improve.

That isn’t the point.

[ His teeth clench, and he might even be angry with Loras if he weren’t already so angry with these strange maesters. He knows how strong-willed Sansa is, but a strong will isn’t always enough. His father’s strong will wasn’t enough to save him, nor was Robb’s, nor all of the strong-willed Northmen who died in Winterfell. ]

I’ve been told how much better the medicine of other worlds is meant to be, how much more efficient it is than that of Westeros. I’ve seen none of it.

[ He hisses through clenched teeth, briefly wishing that Luwin were here. The patient old maester had done nothing more than try to help. Theon had brushed him off, refused his advice, but Luwin would know what to do, he thinks. ]

Why will you not see her today when you’re already here?

[ His frustration is with the situation in general, but it's difficult not to direct it toward this poor southerner. Sorry, Loras. ]

[ And Loras is fully aware that he's becoming the center of Theon's annoyance. He's also aware that he's undeserving of it. His jaw clenches a little and he straightens up, standing a bit taller than before. He's certainly not going to let some islander get the better of him. ]

What I choose to do and what I choose not to do seems hardly your concern. [ A petulant response, but the truth all the same. Loras doesn't need someone else pointing out his poor resolution, thank you kindly. ]

[ Theon is not a tall man. He’s the shortest man in his family, downright shrimpy compared to his uncle Victarion, and it would appear that Loras has quite a bit of height on him as well. He probably should have learned long ago when to back down, but he’s too stubborn, too proud, and especially too foolish.

At least they’re equally as petulant. ]

You’ve made it my concern.

[ He smiles, but it isn’t a kind smile. It’s the tight, teeth-gritting smile of a man on edge, a man who could very well snap at any moment. ]

You've yet to step through that door at all, haven't you? Are you too frightened?

[ Breaking out the mockery a bit soon there, aren’t you Theon? ]

[ The height is about all Loras as. His usual bravado is still wavering, and here he has neither name nor status to hide behind. He eyes the smile warily. There are two choices here, Loras figures: find his own biting remark or be honest. In a twist peculiar even to him, he chooses the honest route. ]

Yes. [ It's not as easy to say as it seems. Loras feels his jaw clench for a moment, his gaze moving from Theon to the Sanctuary. ] It's very frightening.

[ And this will be the second time he's unable to help Sansa Stark. Not that anyone expects him to save her, no this time, but he doesn't want to face the failure all the same. ]

[ Theon’s gaze doesn’t soften. In fact, the corner of his mouth only twitches into a sneer, but he thinks he understands the hesitation. It’s an uneasy environment to be in, packed full of the sick and the worried and concerned and panicked. It’s stifling and difficult to see loved ones in such a state, but it’s necessary. ]

You will not catch it, if that is what you fear.

[ He sounds impatient, with that same frustrated tone. He has no desire to fight this man, but he does want to lash out at someone. He’s just trying not to. He's a lovely person, really! ]

And if what they say is true.

That is not what I fear. [ Getting ill, the possibility of dying, there's no fear in that anymore. He doesn't have his sister's disposition. He can't watch people suffering and put on a good bedside manner to help them.

The topic changes, though. At least enough. Loras looks back to Theon, this time with an eyebrow cocked ever slightly. ]

What is it that they say?

[ Theon hasn’t bothered to try putting on a good bedside manner, not when he’s visiting so few people. He tries to be kind for Sansa, but is mistrust and his sharp tongue still slips in every so often. He fears the threat of losing her, but he won't put on airs when he steps through the Sanctuary doors.

He shrugs, his gaze still cold. ]

It cannot catch through the air, though I've no idea how they can be so certain. More have fallen ill, after all.

[ Huh. Loras doesn't really know a lot about illness or plagues or ... Well. Any of it. He's never needed to, and he doesn't pay any attention to what's happening now, either.

But he does know enough to know that's possibly peculiar. ]

How do they say others catch it? [ That doesn't make Loras want to step inside the sanctuary any more. ]

[ Theon thinks he’d very much like to shake some sense into Loras right now—or punch some sense into him, to remind him that Sansa is still so young and was perfectly healthy just days ago. This isn’t right. She shouldn’t be wasting away from some disease that absolutely no one seems to know the cure not. ]

I do not know that much.

[ Still cold in tone, still cold in gaze, struggling to hold his anger back. ]

But you cannot catch it, and there's little reason for you not to see her.

[While he wasn't much use at researching or looking for cures, Jon could at least visit those that were sick, specifically Sansa. Her rapid illness had left him in a panic and he was often at Sanctuary, hoping for good news. The frightening aspect of all of this (if it could get any worse) was how it was beginning to spread. While he wasn't ill himself, he was bracing himself for that day.

Loras' hesitation was something Jon recognized. Even for his desire to see Sansa, there was a part of him that feared the disease.]

You all right? I have been here enough times and haven't caught it yet. You'll be fine.

Oh -

[ He's not sure what to say. Mostly because he's not sure how he feels about Jon yet, and he certainly doesn't want to admit that, yes. That's his biggest concern. But there are other reasons, of course. Reasons that are nicer to discuss. ]

I'm not sure I can stand to see her this ill. Is that awful to say?

[He hadn't thought very much of the Knight of the Flowers, only knowing a little about him, specifically his death and his kindness to Sansa. There was little else to think of the man as Margaery had a tendency to outshine any other Tyrell (sorry Loras.)]

No.

[He didn't like it any better.]

She will get better. [He refuses to believe anything else.] She would want to see you. It would help distract her.

[ Loras won't hold it against Jon. The only claim to fame the Knight Of Flowers seems to have, more than his own successes, is that he was a traitor and beds men. Loras has spent most of his life helping Margaery advance in social standing and he agrees that no Tyrell - nor anyone - can outshine her.

She wouldn't be hesitating outside the Sanctuary like this. ]

Perhaps another day. I'd feel remiss not bringing her something.

[He was famous enough that he had standing as a knight paramount and a man worthy of songs, something that Sansa talked at length about. But much like the men behind the songs, they were flawed creatures that made mistakes.

It was something they both could share.]

You don't need to bring her anything. [She likely wouldn't recognize anything, if her hallucinations were still continuing.] You haven't been around many of the infected?

[ He shakes his head. Loras has been avoiding them, actually. He has no one to gspeak to of the symptoms or how those taken ill are faring, another reason for his loitering. Imagining something and facing it are too very different things. ]

I didn't want to be a burden somehow. I'd be standing in the way of someone doing something much more important.

Not many of us know what to do, we can only offer support and company.

[But he knows that's not what the real trouble is.]

You are worried about getting sick? Or do you not want to see them like this?

[ It's certainly been an eventful month. From not being dead, to being told his home is destroyed, to a widespread illness, to ... This. Evacuation. Maybe it's for the better. Who knows, at this point, but he's got no say in the matter so he just goes along with it. Same as everyone else.

He hopes that this helps those who've fallen sick. That's where his mind is when he thinks he sees one of the aforementioned ill. Loras has to blink for a moment, because, no, this girl is not Sansa, and it takes a few long seconds before Loras finally averts his gaze. Staring is rude, after all. ]

[ Jean can sense the eyes as well as the slew of emotions that comes with the stare. Not that she wants to. Her walls are still keeping everything muffled around her but sometimes, she feels like reaching out some. As if she's peeking over the wall to see what's beyond it.

She then chances a glance and spots Loras right as he's looking away. She can't remember seeing him before but he wouldn't be the first to stare at her.

She turns her gaze forward again, adjusting her grip on the reins of the mules as they continue to pull the carriage dutifully. ]

[ He thinks of staying quiet, but. That's rude, isn't it? Loras is certain he should apology, so after a moment, he scoots over. ]

Sorry. [ A bit blunt, isn't it? He thinks he should elaborate. ] I mistook you for someone else, I didn't mean to stare.

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@Margaery Tyrell

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@Ramsay "Willem" Bolton

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sancuaryish HELLO MY FRIEND I AM TAGGING UR THING

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ii

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@Jean Grey

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