Open + some closed

[reek]

Who: Theon Greyjoy (reek) & OPEN
What: Catchall
When: Wyver stuff
Where: A r o u n d
Warning(s): Theon is his own warning



I. Evacuation

[ If you’re unfortunate enough to find yourself stuck with Theon, especially on the later leg of the journey, you may realize just how little Wyver climate is agreeing with him. He’s a man of the Iron Islands—or a man of the North, depending on who you ask. Either way, he grew up in a much chillier environment than this. The further they trek, the more he finds himself, for the first time in this life, actually regretting wearing black. He already looks a mess, his hair and collar damp with sweat and his face red. He’s angrily pushing his sweat-streaked hair out of his eyes every few minutes. ]

It feels as though all seven hells have opened at once.

[ He practically snarls his words, looking irritated with their surroundings. Olympia was manageable. Here, he feels as though he may die. Yes, yes he is overreacting. ]

Who would ever desire to live in a place such as this? Not even the Dornishmen would bother. You cannot even find the sea from here.

[ Theon—Theon, just….just…you need a nap. ]


II. Hunting

[ Theon, as outspoken as he is, doesn’t dare to complain about earning his keep. He’s a good hunter, good with a bow and arrow. He thinks about Asha and about Sansa, and he tells himself to go though the motions, to help and to earn his keep until the cure to their illness can be found.

He hasn’t hunted in an environment like this, and he finds it difficult to maneuver. Perhaps it’s just the heat, or the unfamiliarity of it all, but he mislikes it, and it’s too easy for him to lose himself to his thoughts and his worries amidst the sounds of birds and insects. Believing he spies an animal, he pulls back his bowstring, fires, and he misses whatever target he was after, nearly hitting another instead.

Want to be nearly murdered by the Greyjoy kid? Now’s your opportunity to be tragically grazed! ]


III. Wildcard

[ Anyway, anyhow, anywhere you choose. You can adapt one of the above if you prefer too, especially the hunting one. I'm incredibly easy. Find me on plurk if you need me! muttonchops ]

Comments

Loras Tyrell

[reek]

[ This has been a rough month for Theon Greyjoy. Paranoia, loved ones falling ill, and now he’s having a hell of a time adjusting to a new climate. At the very least, it looks as though he’s finally gotten some sleep. When he stumbles upon Loras, he just barely glances up at him. He vaguely recalls their previous meeting, and recalls blowing up at him, but that doesn’t seem to be of any concern to him now. Instead, he’s staring intently at the device in his hand, eyebrows furrowed.

He inclines his head, silent for a moment, a vague and potentially even thoughtful (it’s honestly difficult to tell) smirk on his face. ]

What is a “hashtag”? Do you know?

[triplerose]

[ Loras enjoys this new place. While some apparently find it to be too hot, Loras feels more at home in this climate. He feels like he might be able to get out of whatever it is dragging his mood down, and that's something he's going to grab on to. Tyrells are, after all, opportunists.

Loras doesn't just barely glance at Theon when they come upon one another. He fixes the other man with a cool look. He remembers quite well their last exchange, and still the exchange before that, and he has to say that coversationns with Theon are usually awful ones. ]

I - beg your pardon? [ That's an unexpected sort of greeting. ] Should I know?

[reek]

[ Theon knows that he isn’t the most agreeable person in the world. That’s just who his experiences have turned him into. He isn’t charming, and he doesn’t pretend to be. All he pretends to be is a man who knows who he is. He can shrug off his previous encounters with Loras as easily as if they never happened, at least. ]

I’ve heard it used on a handful of occasions. I thought it might be a weapon of sorts, and as the Reach looks so highly upon knighthood—

[ He gestures vaguely, smile still intact. It isn’t a cruel or cutting smirk as it was during their previous meeting, it’s just amused, and it means nothing. He wears smirks like he wears clothing, changing them to suit his moods or to mask whatever he may not wish to show to the world. ]

I thought you may know something of it, though I suppose it wouldn't be a weapon in the context it's been used.

[triplerose]

[ Loras is trying to be kind. He's general quite good at giving people the benefit of the doubt, probably it's just naivety, but ... Really? A weapon? ]

No. No - It's not a weapon. [ Not one that Loras has ever heard of, anyway, and he's had his fair share of fights with knights from across Westeros. It could be a weapon from another world, maybe? ]

How is it usually used?

[reek]

Inconsistently. Before another phrase, and with no true connection to it.

[ The corner of his mouth twitches, his smirk threatening to widen. Interactions with him may not be terribly pleasant, but at least he’s yet to bring up drowning or become angry. ]

Hashtag fuck Robert Baratheon, for example.

[ Theon...please. ]

[triplerose]

[ For a moment, Loras' eyes threaten to narrow. While he has no care to give either of the elder Baratheons, Renly had a vague fondness for Robert. Useless as he was as both a man and a king, Loras had been moderately bound to suffer him when necessary. But he can agree with Theon's statement. ]

You know how to use it but you don't know what it is or what it means.

[ Not that it's uncommon. People frequenlty use things they have no clue about. ]

[reek]

[ Theon has no love for House Baratheon, and why should he? They took him from his home, thus sparking his eternal existential crisis. Of course, his father is owed some blame as well, but it’s far easier to pin it all on the man who passed the sentence. Though, he knows little of Renly. Theon had already been sent to Pyke by the time Robb had sent his mother to negotiate an alliance with the so-called King in the South, but he’s certain he would dislike the youngest Baratheon just as much as the eldest. ]

It isn’t difficult.

[ Again, he spares Loras the briefest of glances. Don’t mess with him, buddy. ]

Do you intend to critique me for it?

[triplerose]

I have nothing to critique. [ It's hard to correct a man when you've no idea what you're correct him on.

Loras takes a seat near Theon. Not quite beside him, because, frankly, he's not sure he likes Theon. But this is more amicable than not sitting nearby. He doesn't ever really look at the other man, though. That's less a dislike issue and more Loras' own social awkwardness. ]

I can't quite make sense of all these new ways of speaking. It's all very confusing.

[reek]

[ Theon is a difficult man to truly like. It’s a wonder that Robb ever truly befriended him, but it’s different when you’ve met someone in childhood, when it’s more difficult to hide behind words and masks. His smile wasn’t as sharp then, his tongue not so cruel.

He hesitates, not wishing to reveal much to Loras, a man he hardly knows—but a man who hardly knows him, to be fair. Loras seems unaware of Theon’s turncloak status, and it’s somewhat refreshing. ]

I suppose they can’t quite make sense of us either, some of them.

[ He smirks, more out of amusement for once than anything else. ]

The maesters here are all unaware what maesters are. It can be quite humorous to confuse them.

[triplerose]

Maesters in their worlds are likely as different as their words.

[ Loras shrugs. He doesn't care about it, not really. He never paid much attention to maesters ever. Why should that change now? As long as they do their duty.

He puts his hands on his knees, looking around them. Looking for some continuation of conversation. ]

Do you know that instead of saying, for example, pretty odd, they'll simply say, p odd? Lazy, really.