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Open + some closed
Who: Theon Greyjoy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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!![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
muttonchops ]
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!
no subject
He bares his teeth in what might be perceived as a smile, if it weren’t paired with such a vicious tone. He’s done his share, relentlessly helping to hunt down those responsible, even going as far to forego sleep when necessary. All the same, it never feels like he’s doing quite enough. ]
Comfort doesn’t appear to be helping them much either, does it?
no subject
But he has to know, in some corner of his heart. That's what has him like this.]
Comfort is all we can do at this point. Keeping the fevers down, keeping them hydrated, fed. Keeping them calm. [Easier said than done, really, but she's yet to give up.] No one here is sitting on their hands.
[Speaking of hands--she sees two good ones on him, and neither are doing anything useful.]
Come. You're going to help me wash these.
no subject
[ Theon shares her fear. In Winterfell, he had seen otherwise healthy men wither away from illnesses on occasion. Luwin was a good maester, but he didn’t have a cure-all for every ailment. Theon allows no one get too close to him, but he holds a select few people at arm’s length; the closest he’ll allow anyone to truly see him. The Stark children and his sister are those people, and he can’t bear the thought of losing them.
He glares at her, malice in his eyes to match that in his voice. Still, give him credit, he doesn't straight up tell her "no". ]
And why should I?
no subject
[There's too much to do. Claire steps forward to hand off the basket, hoping he'll take it rather than let it fall to the floor.]
no subject
You know me better than most by now, at the very least.
[ It’s true, he isn’t likely to stop. ]
Fine. I’ll help you.
no subject
My thanks.
[Not too far away is a large metal basin on a table filled with soapy water, set up by her earlier. This isn't her first load of washing today. Sure, there's probably someone with magic who could clean all of this with a snap of their fingers, but she knows even she needs a break from the patients now and then. This is it.]
You can put that down here. Do I need to ask if you know how to wash?
no subject
[ He snaps at her, glaring daggers. Although it was typically women’s work in Winterfell, he mislikes being doubted. Men of his world still needed to know more than they let on, in the event that they were stranded in the wilderness. He doesn’t stop glaring as he hauls the basket over and angrily pushes up his sleeves.
Still, despite his own logic, he pauses. He can’t help but think how his own father would mock him terribly for this. And if Robb can be here after death, what is stopping Balon from awakening from stasis? ]
You’ve no one else to help you with this?
no subject
What else would you be doing right now, Theon? Nothing that will help your family. Storming around this place and harassing whoever you come across isn't making them better.
[She pulls one of the cloths from the basket to dunk it into the water.]
This is being useful.