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Nov. 16th, 2012 12:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
notjustapiece[October 19th, 2012]
[Here|All Ages]
Sansa runs into Peeta after a difficult conversation with Steve.
notjustapiece(no subject)
Nov. 13th, 2012 01:38 pmwise_assOne moment, he was in the cell, talking to Jane.
The next, he'd found himself in a cavernous room, wildly impressive even to a young man who'd been raised in a castle. It was huge, with expansive windows showing a star-studded sky (how high up he must be to not spot a horizon in that view was a thought both extraordinary and slightly nauseating) and dozens of archways, doors and sprawling, wide corridors. Some of them were labeled: Cassia. Salaria. Aurelia. Tiburtina. There were screens on the walls, similar to the one he'd seen in the cell, but much larger.
Not precisely how you pictured the clearing, and this is a mighty comfortable temperature for Hell, but beggars can't be choosers, Allgood.
He steps off the platform, looking slightly stunned, his hands shoved in the pockets of the strange dungaree-style suit he's been dressed in, and realizes (for the second time in this increasingly strange evening) that he's not alone. It's an odd feeling-- somehow, he feels like a particularly unfashionable bandit caught trespassing. He has no idea where he is, and yet he plainly doesn't belong here; he was a prisoner in a cell just moments before, and in this grim getup he certainly looks the part.
"Long days and pleasant nights," he offers with a nod, sounding a little unsure of himself. His voice echoes awkwardly in the hall, too loud for the quiet of this place. Bert rakes a hand through his hair and remembers, self-consciously, that the eyepatch is probably not doing him any favors in the looking-reputable department. Oh, well. You'll have to rely on your sparkling personality.
[ See the OOC post here, and have at him. ]
The next, he'd found himself in a cavernous room, wildly impressive even to a young man who'd been raised in a castle. It was huge, with expansive windows showing a star-studded sky (how high up he must be to not spot a horizon in that view was a thought both extraordinary and slightly nauseating) and dozens of archways, doors and sprawling, wide corridors. Some of them were labeled: Cassia. Salaria. Aurelia. Tiburtina. There were screens on the walls, similar to the one he'd seen in the cell, but much larger.
Not precisely how you pictured the clearing, and this is a mighty comfortable temperature for Hell, but beggars can't be choosers, Allgood.
He steps off the platform, looking slightly stunned, his hands shoved in the pockets of the strange dungaree-style suit he's been dressed in, and realizes (for the second time in this increasingly strange evening) that he's not alone. It's an odd feeling-- somehow, he feels like a particularly unfashionable bandit caught trespassing. He has no idea where he is, and yet he plainly doesn't belong here; he was a prisoner in a cell just moments before, and in this grim getup he certainly looks the part.
"Long days and pleasant nights," he offers with a nod, sounding a little unsure of himself. His voice echoes awkwardly in the hall, too loud for the quiet of this place. Bert rakes a hand through his hair and remembers, self-consciously, that the eyepatch is probably not doing him any favors in the looking-reputable department. Oh, well. You'll have to rely on your sparkling personality.
[ See the OOC post here, and have at him. ]
PORT ROYAL DOCKING PLOT : POST 1
Oct. 31st, 2012 11:40 amnottheotherguyAt the university, Halloween was second only to April Fools' Day for people playing pranks on each other, so I woke up on Halloween morning ready to be on my guard. I figured whatever the station had in mind for us (if anything) it wasn't likely to be something I'd find funny, and I wanted to be ready for it, whatever it was.
It hadn't occurred to me that what the station had in store for us wouldn't be something that occurred on board. I hadn't expected the station docking announcement to play, and I sure as hell hadn't expected the world to dissolve around me when I was halfway to the hub to see what was up. I'd never transported before-- it had always been my choice, before, and I'd never planned on going anywhere the other guy might make a mess if I could help it-- but I had just enough time to figure out what the lurching feeling in my stomach probably signified before the station walls vanished.
When I blinked away the sun glare I found myself staring out a window at a bustling city full of people dressed like they were definitely not from 2012. "Well, this is... interesting," I said, turning around to the roomful of Proserpinians who'd apparently been selected to join me on my little day trip.
[Halloween docking plot is open, and this is gathering post style. Tag in, get your character dressed for some 1700s style adventuring, and see the mod post for more info!]
It hadn't occurred to me that what the station had in store for us wouldn't be something that occurred on board. I hadn't expected the station docking announcement to play, and I sure as hell hadn't expected the world to dissolve around me when I was halfway to the hub to see what was up. I'd never transported before-- it had always been my choice, before, and I'd never planned on going anywhere the other guy might make a mess if I could help it-- but I had just enough time to figure out what the lurching feeling in my stomach probably signified before the station walls vanished.
When I blinked away the sun glare I found myself staring out a window at a bustling city full of people dressed like they were definitely not from 2012. "Well, this is... interesting," I said, turning around to the roomful of Proserpinians who'd apparently been selected to join me on my little day trip.
[Halloween docking plot is open, and this is gathering post style. Tag in, get your character dressed for some 1700s style adventuring, and see the mod post for more info!]
(no subject)
Oct. 24th, 2012 10:32 pmacalltoarmsThe thing about the station--no, there were many things about the station most fucked up and all of them frustrating--but this particular thing was that it was quiet. There was the almost silent but ever-present hum of engines or air filters or whatever, but not much else. She missed the sounds of the city's rumble of traffic, just the sound of people living their lives. Here you got that in snatches of conversation with people, but folks tended toward the solitary. Which, you know, when your friend might get shot and die then come back without knowing you, well, maybe that was a good idea. Lonely, though.
She missed Bette coming to poke Kate out of mopey solitude. She missed Maggie. She missed her father so much it ached, missed him more than she was angry at him. What she got instead was the quiet.
Her leg was still giving her trouble which prohibits much hard training, and there were only so many ways to occupy herself. Currently she's camped out in one of the common spaces near the living spaces sitting on the floor in front of a low table. Her communicator played some rockabilly tune by a band she's never heard of.
A dozen different nail polishes spread out in front of her, some glittery and others jewel tones, plus other fancy manicure accoutrements. Kate's always kept her nails short for obvious reasons, but they've got a little longer lately.
She hummed idly as she worked on her nails. All told, it wasn't an intolerable way to spend an afternoon and push the quiet away for a few more hours.
She missed Bette coming to poke Kate out of mopey solitude. She missed Maggie. She missed her father so much it ached, missed him more than she was angry at him. What she got instead was the quiet.
Her leg was still giving her trouble which prohibits much hard training, and there were only so many ways to occupy herself. Currently she's camped out in one of the common spaces near the living spaces sitting on the floor in front of a low table. Her communicator played some rockabilly tune by a band she's never heard of.
A dozen different nail polishes spread out in front of her, some glittery and others jewel tones, plus other fancy manicure accoutrements. Kate's always kept her nails short for obvious reasons, but they've got a little longer lately.
She hummed idly as she worked on her nails. All told, it wasn't an intolerable way to spend an afternoon and push the quiet away for a few more hours.
(no subject)
Oct. 17th, 2012 06:02 amtheycallmecapIt's been a while since Steve has seen Tyrion, and the station - what is accessible to them - is not that big. He should have run into him again, and it looks as if his room, away from all the others, has not been lived in for days. The more worrying problem is that it actually opened for Steve, and he knows for a fact that Tyrion always kept it locked, afraid as he was for his life.
He'll have to check the morgue, at some point.
So Steve is now going through the station, through every room accessible to him, even what Abed calls the storage room, where he got his costume and his shield back, just in case Tyrion somehow made it there. He would send a message to everybody, but he's too wary of the tricks the communicator plays on him when he tries to type, so he will wait until he is done checking everywhere to ask if anybody has seen the dwarf recently.
And in the meantime, each time he runs into someone, he asks them. "Hello," with a warm, friendly smile, as usual, except for the tension in his jaw and at the corner of his eyes, "you wouldn't happen to have seen Tyrion recently?"
Warning: warning for allusions to attempted sexual assault in the thread between Steve and Sansa.
He'll have to check the morgue, at some point.
So Steve is now going through the station, through every room accessible to him, even what Abed calls the storage room, where he got his costume and his shield back, just in case Tyrion somehow made it there. He would send a message to everybody, but he's too wary of the tricks the communicator plays on him when he tries to type, so he will wait until he is done checking everywhere to ask if anybody has seen the dwarf recently.
And in the meantime, each time he runs into someone, he asks them. "Hello," with a warm, friendly smile, as usual, except for the tension in his jaw and at the corner of his eyes, "you wouldn't happen to have seen Tyrion recently?"
Warning: warning for allusions to attempted sexual assault in the thread between Steve and Sansa.
A new(ish) addition
Aug. 18th, 2012 11:50 pmlastchanceforhonorIt had been a very... confusing few days. When the others had been walking past the lamppost - when they'd been doing their tasks and freeing the prince, Sansa had been sitting back in the camp, talking quietly to the animals, a three-week old wolf pup in her lap. It's mother had died, she had been told by the Dryad who was sitting beside her, that it had run into a bear that had not been a talking animal; and she had been wounded, and with her dying strength had given birth to a litter of pups, and the wolf in Sansa's lap was the only one that had survived. It was too young to speak past tiny, high-pitched squeaks, and even as Sansa had spoken of being able to help, that when they went back to Cair Paravel, she had taken care of Lady since she had been a pup, so she could teach someone--
She blinked, and between one word and the next she went from sitting on the grass under a tree older than she could imagine to sitting on the cold, metal floor of the station. It took a moment for her to realise that, yes, she did still have the wolf in her lap - and, with that, Sansa's life changed. It took her until today to name him - and yes, it was a him, and over the last week and a half they barely left Sansa's quarters, for she was training him, and caring for him-- his whines would wake her up in the night, and she knew that he must miss Narnia just as much as she missed Winterfell.
Today was the first day that they were going to go for a walk - to see how he'd do, before he got so big that Sansa would have problems keeping up with him. "Come on, Star." She tested the name on her tongue, and it sounded right, and it made him perk his ears up. She thought he understood her, perhaps, because when she said Stay close to me he did, even without a lead to tie him to her. "This is your home now - I promise, I won't let anything happen to you."
She was busy watching him, not realising until he stopped and she looked up that someone else was coming down the hall. "It's alright! There's other people here." She crouched by the wolf, her fingers stroking his short fur as she glanced back up. "I'm sorry, he's not really seen anybody else here before."
She blinked, and between one word and the next she went from sitting on the grass under a tree older than she could imagine to sitting on the cold, metal floor of the station. It took a moment for her to realise that, yes, she did still have the wolf in her lap - and, with that, Sansa's life changed. It took her until today to name him - and yes, it was a him, and over the last week and a half they barely left Sansa's quarters, for she was training him, and caring for him-- his whines would wake her up in the night, and she knew that he must miss Narnia just as much as she missed Winterfell.
Today was the first day that they were going to go for a walk - to see how he'd do, before he got so big that Sansa would have problems keeping up with him. "Come on, Star." She tested the name on her tongue, and it sounded right, and it made him perk his ears up. She thought he understood her, perhaps, because when she said Stay close to me he did, even without a lead to tie him to her. "This is your home now - I promise, I won't let anything happen to you."
She was busy watching him, not realising until he stopped and she looked up that someone else was coming down the hall. "It's alright! There's other people here." She crouched by the wolf, her fingers stroking his short fur as she glanced back up. "I'm sorry, he's not really seen anybody else here before."
Narnia Plot Post Two
Aug. 2nd, 2012 01:49 amlastchanceforhonorSansa had never heard of Narnia. When she had appeared at the base of the cliff - sans Dr. Watson, oddly enough - she blinked in surprise when she saw a small man perched on a rock, as if he was waiting for them. "Oh, hello." The words just sort of fell out of her mouth, and her eyes skipped from the dwarf (she'd had far too many of them in her lifetime) to the castle behind him. That is why she had come, because on the screens, she'd hoped for just one moment that it could be- well. She'd not seen the castles on the far coast of Westeros. She had hoped and prayed that she would be going home, but even now the air tasted too sweet, and it was far too warm. Winter was coming in Westeros, but this place was balmy spring.
The dwarf pushed himself off his rock, grumbling as he tipped his head back to look at the first group off the transporter, and more and more of them appeared. He bowed even as he scowled. "I am Ricklebrack, and I have been sent to greet you, and take you to Cair Paravel." He squinted up at Sansa. "You're sure you are the Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve? I didn't think that you could just pop in and out of the air like that. Makes my bones hurt."
Sansa stared at him with widened eyes, and she glanced behind her, her eyes flicking from Klaus to Sandor - and then to Tyrion. "If you were sent here to meet someone, my lord, it seems that we are your party. Where is this Cair Paravel you speak of?"
"What? Where, you say? Are you lack-witted, it's in Narnia, of course! That's where you are. It's right there." He said it to her like she was a child, before he shook his head. "Alright, we should head out - it's a few miles' walk. The air's clearer than usual, so everything looks far too close than it actually is."
The dwarf pushed himself off his rock, grumbling as he tipped his head back to look at the first group off the transporter, and more and more of them appeared. He bowed even as he scowled. "I am Ricklebrack, and I have been sent to greet you, and take you to Cair Paravel." He squinted up at Sansa. "You're sure you are the Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve? I didn't think that you could just pop in and out of the air like that. Makes my bones hurt."
Sansa stared at him with widened eyes, and she glanced behind her, her eyes flicking from Klaus to Sandor - and then to Tyrion. "If you were sent here to meet someone, my lord, it seems that we are your party. Where is this Cair Paravel you speak of?"
"What? Where, you say? Are you lack-witted, it's in Narnia, of course! That's where you are. It's right there." He said it to her like she was a child, before he shook his head. "Alright, we should head out - it's a few miles' walk. The air's clearer than usual, so everything looks far too close than it actually is."
(no subject)
Jun. 30th, 2012 05:00 pmlivinginanhgwellsnovelIt was good to know that the people of the Proserpina were – overall – ready to help when it came to preparing the hall for a dinner party. Lady Grantham was particular as ever, and made certain that all was proper and in place. She had been busy since midday and when Mycroft appeared, all was set up and perfectly straight. He only had to nod once, with a mild smile on his face, to let her know that she had outdone herself once more.
People started coming in at the arranged time and as they did, the table started filling with plates and dishes. Again people had brought what they had been able to bait out of the replicators. Again there were more drinks than there should be at a dinner party (but as Mycroft had brought a bottle of honest brandy, he chose not to remark on this). And this time for the first time and for reasons unknown to both the host and the hostess, there was was an improvised music set.
Everyone had, by now, heard of the noises, the holes and the new arrivals. And if they didn't, they would soon. News like that traveled fast and at a party such as this, mouths didn't keep still.
People started coming in at the arranged time and as they did, the table started filling with plates and dishes. Again people had brought what they had been able to bait out of the replicators. Again there were more drinks than there should be at a dinner party (but as Mycroft had brought a bottle of honest brandy, he chose not to remark on this). And this time for the first time and for reasons unknown to both the host and the hostess, there was was an improvised music set.
Everyone had, by now, heard of the noises, the holes and the new arrivals. And if they didn't, they would soon. News like that traveled fast and at a party such as this, mouths didn't keep still.
lastchanceforhonor[June 19th, 2012]
[Here|PG: Trigger Warning: [Referencing Non-Consensual Sexual Activity]
Klaus finds Sansa cleaning house after he returns from the temple run, and volunteers to 'speak' with Tyrion Lannister.
14:00 | sparring room [GP]
Jun. 28th, 2012 08:37 amohsnikt Ever since they came back from the jungle, Logan's been thinking that they could use some good old fashioned self defense lessons. Of course, that hadn't been the biggest problem for his team, but it would be kinda hard to teach people how not to drown.
His improvised knife throwing lesson with Mystique had showed him that there was talent on board, and he's interested to see how much he might have missed. So he puts the word out to everyone he talks to, cause he's not much of a planner. He briefly wishes Chuck was here, even if it meant a lot more irritating conversations, since he's pretty much a professional people-wrangler. Anyway, there's a decent sized crowd gathering in the sparring room, and they're all looking at him like they expect him to make a speech.
He figures he'd better say something before Raven offers him an actual soapbox to stand on.
"Well." He clears his throat, which doesn't help at all. He wants to tell them just to find a buddy and try to beat the crap out of them, which in his opinion is the only way to learn. "Ok. We're gonna start with easy stuff, like breaking holds and sweeping the leg, ok? If you already know how to do that, make sure your partner does too. Half of you come with me, half of you go with him."
This is gonna be a disaster.
His improvised knife throwing lesson with Mystique had showed him that there was talent on board, and he's interested to see how much he might have missed. So he puts the word out to everyone he talks to, cause he's not much of a planner. He briefly wishes Chuck was here, even if it meant a lot more irritating conversations, since he's pretty much a professional people-wrangler. Anyway, there's a decent sized crowd gathering in the sparring room, and they're all looking at him like they expect him to make a speech.
He figures he'd better say something before Raven offers him an actual soapbox to stand on.
"Well." He clears his throat, which doesn't help at all. He wants to tell them just to find a buddy and try to beat the crap out of them, which in his opinion is the only way to learn. "Ok. We're gonna start with easy stuff, like breaking holds and sweeping the leg, ok? If you already know how to do that, make sure your partner does too. Half of you come with me, half of you go with him."
This is gonna be a disaster.
lastchanceforhonorIt feels like she's been locked in that tiny room - she'd know how far it was from wall to wall, except she'd spent the first half hour digging the glass from her foot, and trying to get it from her back. Still, it seemed so much smaller than it had the first time. The walls were confining, and even with the way she'd woken, groggy and confused, she quickly wished she could escape.
( She didn't know how long she would be in quarantine... )
( She didn't know how long she would be in quarantine... )
(no subject)
Jun. 14th, 2012 04:55 pmlastchanceforhonor[June 14, 4AM]
[Here| HARD R - TRIGGER WARNINGS: Threatened Non-Con, Violence Related to NC]
Under the continued effects of inhibition-lowering gas, Tyrion Lannister gets tired of not taking his rights with his wife. Sansa is less than amused, and his blood is shed before the station intervenes.
littlelannisterHe now knew from his cellmate that other realms existed, and the basic assumption was that he was as far from Westeros as one could possibly travel. However, what struck Tyrion most about the station was not the novelty, but the familiarity. Not the stars suspended in the space beyond the enormous glass windows, but the careful way couches were arranged about those windows, allowing best angles for appreciating the views. In many ways, the place felt like a proper city. An abandoned city, true. Probably one ravaged by plague, if the message was to be believed. And that, unfortunately, also felt distressingly familiar.
He took to exploring for there was little else to do. He did have a goal in mind. Every proper city had a repository for knowledge, and he hoped this place was no different. But his attempt to find a library proved fruitless. There were too many locked doors and no simple way to pick them. He found other spaces, though. A room large enough for full-grown dragons to stretch their wings. A room with half-rings of fixed seats all facing the same way, most likely for some sort of entertainment. Reminded of Meereen's slave fighting pits, he swiftly left that room behind.
The merchant stalls caught his attention, for what else could these possibly be? Walls lined with shelves to proudly display wares, and counters upon which a trader might tally out his coins. But what could they have sold? Spotting some dusty thing laying upon a glass shelf above his head, he reached for it, but his aim was clumsy. The shelf shuddered off its anchor, tumbling to the floor and shattering to pieces.
What a clamor! Fool! I'll have the whole of the station setting upon me at any moment.
But perhaps he could escape before being detected.
He took to exploring for there was little else to do. He did have a goal in mind. Every proper city had a repository for knowledge, and he hoped this place was no different. But his attempt to find a library proved fruitless. There were too many locked doors and no simple way to pick them. He found other spaces, though. A room large enough for full-grown dragons to stretch their wings. A room with half-rings of fixed seats all facing the same way, most likely for some sort of entertainment. Reminded of Meereen's slave fighting pits, he swiftly left that room behind.
The merchant stalls caught his attention, for what else could these possibly be? Walls lined with shelves to proudly display wares, and counters upon which a trader might tally out his coins. But what could they have sold? Spotting some dusty thing laying upon a glass shelf above his head, he reached for it, but his aim was clumsy. The shelf shuddered off its anchor, tumbling to the floor and shattering to pieces.
What a clamor! Fool! I'll have the whole of the station setting upon me at any moment.
But perhaps he could escape before being detected.
(no subject)
May. 29th, 2012 09:44 amlastchanceforhonor[May 4, 2012]
[Here|PG]
After the hallucination plot and the wardrobe being opened, Sansa gets a visit from Klaus - where she confesses her true identity before he hears it from someone else.
A Formal Dinner Party
May. 25th, 2012 05:52 pmlivinginanhgwellsnovelThe morning work had been made light and quick by many contributing hands. It had greatly surprised Violet to have so many willing to do work typically meant for servants. The only occasions where the Countess might have been accustomed to that kind of pitching in was in times of war. The result was certainly not up to Downton standards, Carson would have had a fit, but one could only work with what one was given, and on the Proserpina, what one was given was often very little or quite questionable.
Despite her inner reservations, it had all turned out very well and it did look fit for a party. She had called on Mycroft earlier in the evening and had asked him to join her to look it over.
They surveyed the room quietly side-by-side, pleased for different reasons and invested in the nights events based on quite separate motivations.
As the door opened and the first arrivals came through, Violet turned to greet them, pleased at their timeliness. It was six o'clock sharp.
Despite her inner reservations, it had all turned out very well and it did look fit for a party. She had called on Mycroft earlier in the evening and had asked him to join her to look it over.
They surveyed the room quietly side-by-side, pleased for different reasons and invested in the nights events based on quite separate motivations.
As the door opened and the first arrivals came through, Violet turned to greet them, pleased at their timeliness. It was six o'clock sharp.
(no subject)
May. 24th, 2012 09:49 amlastchanceforhonorSansa, by and large, mostly kept to herself. She spent more time than was really necessary in the observation room, just sitting on the couch as she watched the universe spin by, trying not to think of how her life had changed. She was Sansa now - she had been since she'd run into Sandor and Jaime Lannister, and she had no choice.
Alayne Stone was gone, now. The smiling, somewhat wary-but-eager-to-please natural born daughter of Petyr Baelish was retired, put away with the girl who loved King Joffrey, with the girl who had left Winterfell years ago. What was left was Sansa - something she was trying to figure out, who this girl was. She was stronger, she knew. Proud, but not to a fault. Very aware of her family and her obligations, and that she would need to get them back - but also patient, because there was nothing she could do here.
She had told Klaus - he had stopped by, and she knew she owed him an explanation, but that made her realise that Alistair deserved one as well. The fact that she could not find him - she had been looking for days, but she could not find him and he was her neighbor is why she was no longer keeping to herself. He was her friend, and he was just... gone.
Sansa wore a simple gown, one that she could get dressed in on her own; she had banished the shorter skirts to the back of her closet, because she knew that there were people here that knew her, and even if she liked them, even if Klaus said they were normal, they were anything but.
"Excuse me," she said to the first person she saw as she walked through the concourse. "I'm looking for someone. Have you seen a man called Alistair, anywhere?"
Alayne Stone was gone, now. The smiling, somewhat wary-but-eager-to-please natural born daughter of Petyr Baelish was retired, put away with the girl who loved King Joffrey, with the girl who had left Winterfell years ago. What was left was Sansa - something she was trying to figure out, who this girl was. She was stronger, she knew. Proud, but not to a fault. Very aware of her family and her obligations, and that she would need to get them back - but also patient, because there was nothing she could do here.
She had told Klaus - he had stopped by, and she knew she owed him an explanation, but that made her realise that Alistair deserved one as well. The fact that she could not find him - she had been looking for days, but she could not find him and he was her neighbor is why she was no longer keeping to herself. He was her friend, and he was just... gone.
Sansa wore a simple gown, one that she could get dressed in on her own; she had banished the shorter skirts to the back of her closet, because she knew that there were people here that knew her, and even if she liked them, even if Klaus said they were normal, they were anything but.
"Excuse me," she said to the first person she saw as she walked through the concourse. "I'm looking for someone. Have you seen a man called Alistair, anywhere?"
Darkspawn [Open]
Apr. 19th, 2012 06:24 amonceatemplarUntil a second ago, Alistair wished that whatever-this-was didn't have to come to an end.
There was nothing that the Templar-Gone-Grey-Warden more than a family. And for whatever reason, he suddenly had one. A real family with a real sister and a real collection of nieces and nephews, all for his very own.
The other Warden was there, too, though if he thought about it hard enough, they probably shouldn't be. Then again, the family he hadn't met shouldn't have been present either, but he didn't think of that at all, either.
He is in the middle of a game of hide and seek with Davis, the youngest of his imagined nephews when he finds that he can't find him. At all. Or anyone else, for that matter. He starts racing towards the house, but finds that grass slowly gives way to metal gray floors.
When he turns around, the field outside his sister's house is not there. It had all just vanished.
With a sharp intake of breath, he turns around again, his brows furrowed with confusion. He realizes it, then. He's aboard the Prosperina, still. All that before was...
"Just a dream." Like that time in the Mage's Tower, when they went into the Fade.
Disappointment wells up inside of him. Having the family he wanted so badly had been unceremoniously seized from him before and now it had been taken away from him again. But there's little time to dwell on that.
Alistair hears a snarl rise up from behind him.
A very familiar snarl.
He spins around, only to find himself face-to-face with a trio of Darkspawn. One ogre, flanked by a hurlock and a genlock. And unfortunately for Alistair, none of the three seemed particularly happy to see him.
And unlike him, they also had weapons.
"Darkspawn!" he says in one second. In the next, he's racing down the halls, eyes searching frantically for something -- anything, he can use to fend the creatures off. With a weapon, he could handle the Darkspawn. Without one -- well, he was just about as useless as everyone else.
There was nothing that the Templar-Gone-Grey-Warden more than a family. And for whatever reason, he suddenly had one. A real family with a real sister and a real collection of nieces and nephews, all for his very own.
The other Warden was there, too, though if he thought about it hard enough, they probably shouldn't be. Then again, the family he hadn't met shouldn't have been present either, but he didn't think of that at all, either.
He is in the middle of a game of hide and seek with Davis, the youngest of his imagined nephews when he finds that he can't find him. At all. Or anyone else, for that matter. He starts racing towards the house, but finds that grass slowly gives way to metal gray floors.
When he turns around, the field outside his sister's house is not there. It had all just vanished.
With a sharp intake of breath, he turns around again, his brows furrowed with confusion. He realizes it, then. He's aboard the Prosperina, still. All that before was...
"Just a dream." Like that time in the Mage's Tower, when they went into the Fade.
Disappointment wells up inside of him. Having the family he wanted so badly had been unceremoniously seized from him before and now it had been taken away from him again. But there's little time to dwell on that.
Alistair hears a snarl rise up from behind him.
A very familiar snarl.
He spins around, only to find himself face-to-face with a trio of Darkspawn. One ogre, flanked by a hurlock and a genlock. And unfortunately for Alistair, none of the three seemed particularly happy to see him.
And unlike him, they also had weapons.
"Darkspawn!" he says in one second. In the next, he's racing down the halls, eyes searching frantically for something -- anything, he can use to fend the creatures off. With a weapon, he could handle the Darkspawn. Without one -- well, he was just about as useless as everyone else.
(no subject)
Apr. 17th, 2012 12:36 amshitforhonorIt had been days, weeks if he had counted correctly, though, with constant sun or moon the days seemed to blur from one to the next -- connected by a string of endless confusion and incredible indifference and apathy. He had lived to see a year come and go in the dank cells of Riverrun, he had faced Robb Stark and his direwolf, he had lost the most beloved thing to him -- his sword hand and now he was on a ship with no sails that traversed an ocean of black instead of blue and none of it made sense to him.
Of the few pleasant thoughts he had of his father was the night his mother died giving birth to Tyrion. Casterly Rock had been a riot that night, maids running in and out of the room with hot water and clean sheets, he had to hold back Cersei from running into the room. I want to see, Jaime! I'll have babies one day, I want to know! She battled with him but he didn't let her, father would be angry if she barged in. But, later that night after the screams of his mother had faded away and died out to the sounds of Tyrion's tears Jaime was taken out onto the balcony of his father's room. Tywin's heavy had rested on Jaime's shoulder and he explained that his mother was gone, that she had gone off into the stars to be with the gods. It had been the only time Jaime had seen his father vulnerable and now that day meant nothing, the stars were a place like any other with comings and goings and among those coming and going ... was not his mother.
He had made no friends in this place. He didn't understand it and if he had spent a year in the captivity of Robb Stark, he could survive a year here -- it was far more pleasant than any cell he'd ever seen. It was a cell nonetheless and he wandered its halls like a ghost that went mostly unseen and unheard from and although that image of his mother in the stars had been ripped from him by this place there was something incredibly pleasant about watching those stars slowly creep by and from the observation deck he saw them best. As he paced toward the enormous floor to ceiling window his arms came behind his back, his only hand gripping just above the scared flesh of where his right hand had once been.
Blood Work [Open]
Apr. 11th, 2012 10:27 amnomoremrnicegaiusGaius Baltar is standing in the science labs of the third floor of the Prosperina, eye pressed against the eyepiece lens. This felt so familiar to Gaius; in a way, it was almost disconcerting. What was that phrase that Six liked to use? 'All this has happened before, and all this will happen again', was it? It certainly seemed to be the case now. Mostly, anyway. Instead of being surrounded by thousands of blood samples all in need of testing for Cylon pathogens, he was surrounded by four in need of just simple investigation.
One from him, one from Julien, one from someone he hadn't yet had the opportunity to meet, and one from the Commander.
Only one woman aboard the station had deigned to pay a visit to the science labs, and it had to be her of all people. What Gaius wanted was someone young and pretty like the girls he slept with on Caprica. Someone who would think he was all charm and intelligence. Someone who thought he was utterly irresistible.
And the Commander it seemed, had developed an immunity to his charms. In fact, she didn't seem to like him at all. And that alone Gaius couldn't stand; he didn't like the thought of anyone disliking him. Even Shepard.
"Cubit for your thoughts, Gaius." Gaius jerks up quite suddenly to find Six sitting there on the countertop next to him. She's quite lovely, in that red dress that he really loved. The one that seemed to hug every inch of her body, leaving very little to the imagination.
"When did you get here?" he asks her, though it comes out as more of a demand than a question.
"Just a second ago." Six smiles. "Are you going to answer my question?"
Gaius runs a hand over his sweatshirt, smoothing out the wrinkles. He'd feel more comfortable in a suit -- or if that weren't possible, a lab coat would probably do. But unfortunately, the ship had not seen it fit to outfit them appropriately.
Or at least not him. The rest of the space station's denizens could feel just at home in this kind of clothing, for all he knew.
"I was thinking about women," he says, finally. "The only one I've seen since I've cooped myself up in this lab is Shepard and frankly, she left a great deal to be desired." He peers through the eyepiece again and frowns down at a sample of her bloodwork. It sits on a microscope slide, bound to the stage with a set of stage clips.
Six pushes herself out the counter and steps towards him. She leans over him, breasts pressed against his back. Gaius briefly recalls the last time the two of them fooled around in a science lab, and remembers Kara Thrace walking in right in the middle of it.
Any desire he might have felt was killed with that very thought.
"Learn anything new about women by examining their blood?" she asks, her lips so close to his ear that she can feel the warmth of her breath there on his lobe.
"Abnormalities," he answers, somehow managing to squelch his newly-resurrected desire, however barely. "But I've seen a lot of abnormalities from the samples I've taken thusfar. I'll need more samples before I can draw any definitive conclusions."
He's both thankful and remorseful when Six decides to pull away a second later. "Well, then," she says. "I'll leave you to your work."
And in a blink of an eye, Six is gone again, leaving Gaius standing there, wishing very much that he was in some other place -- some private place, rather -- alone and with Six.
One from him, one from Julien, one from someone he hadn't yet had the opportunity to meet, and one from the Commander.
Only one woman aboard the station had deigned to pay a visit to the science labs, and it had to be her of all people. What Gaius wanted was someone young and pretty like the girls he slept with on Caprica. Someone who would think he was all charm and intelligence. Someone who thought he was utterly irresistible.
And the Commander it seemed, had developed an immunity to his charms. In fact, she didn't seem to like him at all. And that alone Gaius couldn't stand; he didn't like the thought of anyone disliking him. Even Shepard.
"Cubit for your thoughts, Gaius." Gaius jerks up quite suddenly to find Six sitting there on the countertop next to him. She's quite lovely, in that red dress that he really loved. The one that seemed to hug every inch of her body, leaving very little to the imagination.
"When did you get here?" he asks her, though it comes out as more of a demand than a question.
"Just a second ago." Six smiles. "Are you going to answer my question?"
Gaius runs a hand over his sweatshirt, smoothing out the wrinkles. He'd feel more comfortable in a suit -- or if that weren't possible, a lab coat would probably do. But unfortunately, the ship had not seen it fit to outfit them appropriately.
Or at least not him. The rest of the space station's denizens could feel just at home in this kind of clothing, for all he knew.
"I was thinking about women," he says, finally. "The only one I've seen since I've cooped myself up in this lab is Shepard and frankly, she left a great deal to be desired." He peers through the eyepiece again and frowns down at a sample of her bloodwork. It sits on a microscope slide, bound to the stage with a set of stage clips.
Six pushes herself out the counter and steps towards him. She leans over him, breasts pressed against his back. Gaius briefly recalls the last time the two of them fooled around in a science lab, and remembers Kara Thrace walking in right in the middle of it.
Any desire he might have felt was killed with that very thought.
"Learn anything new about women by examining their blood?" she asks, her lips so close to his ear that she can feel the warmth of her breath there on his lobe.
"Abnormalities," he answers, somehow managing to squelch his newly-resurrected desire, however barely. "But I've seen a lot of abnormalities from the samples I've taken thusfar. I'll need more samples before I can draw any definitive conclusions."
He's both thankful and remorseful when Six decides to pull away a second later. "Well, then," she says. "I'll leave you to your work."
And in a blink of an eye, Six is gone again, leaving Gaius standing there, wishing very much that he was in some other place -- some private place, rather -- alone and with Six.
(no subject)
Apr. 5th, 2012 10:52 amdaughterofthefifthIn her capacity as diplomatic envoy for the Betazoid government, Lwaxana Troi had travelled from one end of the Alpha Quadrant to the other. The sight of an unfamiliar starfield outside the nearest viewport was not unsettling to her. But here on this station, if she thought about it for too long, the knowledge that she might be seeing constellations that were completely uncharted by any entity she had ever come in contact with—
Well, that was worth glossing over.
So as she sat at the small table on the observation deck, she gazed out at the stars with only a passing interest. It had taken a bit of concentration not to concentrate on finding familiar star patterns, but once attained, maintaining a detached view of things was not too difficult. Since she was simultaneously attempting to ignore her discomfort at having to present herself in these rags--with her own hair!-- Lwaxana began to regret arriving so early to meet the young Vulcan, and started wishing for someone else to distract her.
Well, that was worth glossing over.
So as she sat at the small table on the observation deck, she gazed out at the stars with only a passing interest. It had taken a bit of concentration not to concentrate on finding familiar star patterns, but once attained, maintaining a detached view of things was not too difficult. Since she was simultaneously attempting to ignore her discomfort at having to present herself in these rags--with her own hair!-- Lwaxana began to regret arriving so early to meet the young Vulcan, and started wishing for someone else to distract her.
