VOICE ♙ OO1

[teashop]

[ ahem, using this thing like a phone because he's really not interested in wasting time trying to figure out just how deep the rabbit hole goes in terms of what it can do. that comes later. ]

Good— [ . . . ] whenever it is.

[ his voice might sound familiar to some of you, if slightly more nasal; there's a steady metallic clop-clop, clop-clop in the background that sounds not unlike horse hooves on steel. Anything is possible when your man's been abducted to live a doomed life in space and is riding his mare around the corridors! I'm on a horse. ]

Seems like as good a time as any for a proper hello. And since we've all got some time to kill, I thought it might be nice to play a quick game of Questions. Or—Facts, I suppose. Whichever works best. I tell you one thing about me, you tell me one thing about you... loads of fun.

[ okay so he's not exactly gagging to talk about himself, but if there's a fast track to gathering information, it's to come right out and ask for it. tit for tat. ]

I'm called—

[ he pauses.

this isn't Wonderland; nobody knows him here, except for Alice, and she doesn't exactly pose a huge threat to his well-being. Well, not any more, at least, because nobody knows about the Stone of Wonderland here; the likelihood of the both of them being tracked down and killed for it has been significantly diminished. he figures it's okay to be honest about his name, if nothing else. ]

—Hatter. Now, your turn.

Also. Directions to this oxygen garden thing would be— much appreciated. I've a horse here in need of some greens, and she's a bit twitchy from being kept in the dark.

[ reluctantly finally: ]

And if you see an old guy with a crazy goatee in a suit of white armor spouting nonsense about—I don't know, mystical vapours of destiny or something, you should probably let me know.

Comments

[wiretap]

[ Robb considers Aberdeen something of a wildling and, for all intents and purposes, this is nearly true. There is another part of her, however, the part that cannot be seen behind the surface, that is more maester than anything else. That is intellect and numbers and the memorization of facts. And beyond that there is her secret, one that she decides after a moment she will share. ]

I can hear things that happen in other places on the ship. Not a lot of people know that I can, but I listen to everything. It's part of how I watch.

[ There's a long pause, during which Aberdeen says nothing. ]

Your sister has a lot of secrets. More than anybody else I know.

[wolfdreamer]

[She hears things, she says--and Bran immediately looks to her ears, which wink as silver with metal as the rest of her does--but she does not mean with her ears, he knows that. Magic, she means. She has some magic. The thought is both exciting and unnerving. She listens to everything. That means that she knows everything.

It takes a moment for him to realize what she's said about Sansa--sister, but of course she knows that if she knows everything--and a defensive feeling rises quickly in Bran's chest.]

Her secrets are important. She-- needs them. [A pause, and he adds (childishly, perhaps):] I think Lord Baelish has more than anyone for true. But he might not speak of them, so even you wouldn't know.

[There. A distraction. Perhaps Aberdeen will think more of Lord Baleish than of Sansa. Bran looks at his hands, though he can still see the little flashes of metal in the small picture of Aberdeen.] Does Robb know that you hear everything?

[wiretap]

[ Simply: ] Yes.

[ Then: ] There are other ways to get to Baelish's secrets, [ she tells him and thinks of Oxford and Barcelona, thinks of the ways they can speak to her without saying a word and can peel back all of her defenses to see into the very center of her brain. Perhaps if she were simply Hallah and not Aberdeen, it would bother her, but Aberdeen knows that privacy is an illusion. She has none, just like everyone else. ] But many are hers. They trust each other. Or pretend to.

[ Aberdeen tilts her head. ] Does that bother you?

[wolfdreamer]

[There is too much to think about, even in those short sentences that Aberdeen offers. Does he want to know Baelish's secrets? Does he want to know secrets that Sansa has, Alayne's secrets, ones she never speaks of?--never speaks of to Bran, anyway; she might yet speak of them with someone else, and Aberdeen would know--

And pretend to, pretend to trust--it isn't a true trust, which is as much a hope and a comfort as it is a trouble. Pretending is still dangerous. Where does pretending stop? And would Aberdeen know that, too?

He's quiet a long moment, but when eventually he answers, he answers with honesty.]

He isn't her father. And she trusts him, but-- I don't know why. I don't think him trustworthy. [Another little pause, and he adds, quietly:] It bothers me.

[wiretap]

[ For all that Aberdeen watches the Starks, observing them over the Network and lisening to them whenever Robb is out of earshot, there is a lot about them that remains hidden. She sees a glimmer of it in Bran's expression in the way he seems momentarily lost in thought. Aberdeen wonders how old he is because he's certainly not young. Not in any quantifiable way, at least. (It makes her like him, in a way.) ]

Have you asked her? [ A pause. ] Siblings shouldn't keep secrets. They do and they will.

But they shouldn't.

[wolfdreamer]

[They do and they will and perhaps they should, Bran wants to say. Some secrets are secrets for love, and might someday be told--but for now--]

She would not like for me to ask. I think she might grow upset. [There was Sansa before she went south, and there was Alayne of the Eyrie, and the distance between them was a burned and bloody field that Bran could only guess at. He studies his hands again a moment, keeping his face turned away from Aberdeen so she might not see the worried pinching of his brow.] Are you someone's sibling?

[wiretap]

[ Some secrets are for love, but even though secrets don't last, and when the truth eventually comes out sometimes the wounds suffered because of them remain raw forever, never truly heal. ]

Sisters get upset sometimes. It happens. [ He asks if she is someone's sibling and the answer is yes. She is someone's older sister and once, before terrible things happened, things outside of her control, she was a younger sister too. Which is perhaps why she finds some sympathy for Robb Stark — older brothers and younger sisters bond in a way that other siblings do not. ] I know it does.

[ It's not a yes, but it's close enough to one, and Bran seems clever. ]

[wolfdreamer]

[That means yes. If she knows, then surely she means from experience--though it is difficult to imagine her being upset in any way, let alone upset in ways that Sansa would be upset. They are too different to be similar. Except that they are both someone's sister.]

But it should not happen. [It is not a correction so much as it is a question.] A brother's duty is to protect his sister--even a younger brother. She should not be sad. Or-- not more sad than she is.

[A pause, as he turns all of this over in his mind--and then Bran glances up at Aberdeen, trying to see past the metal mounted in her face, to truly see her face.]

Do you truly think that I should ask her?

[wiretap]

[ Aberdeen blinks into the camera and it is the only indication of hesitation she gives. The rest of her face is stony and still, her gaze low and intent in the shadow her brow. Behind her lips the muffled clicking noise that comes from her piercing makes the only she gives for a while. ]

A brother's duty is to protect his sister — even a younger brother. [ She recites the words and maybe that's a kind of agreement, an acknowledgment of their veracity. ]

Do you think her secrets keep her safe? Or do you think her secrets keep her caught.

[wolfdreamer]

[She is difficult to read--and first, Bran thinks perhaps it is because he keeps looking to the bits of metal--but no. Even beyond those, her face is a difficult one, and her words do not help to give a sense of her. It isn't a troubling thought so much as it is an observation.

Her question takes some considering, so Bran is quiet in turn. He has no metal with which to tap, so he toys idly with one of Summer's ears, brushing his fingertips against the softest shell of its curve.]

They make her safe, I think. But perhaps safe as a cage might be safe. [Another pause, and he adds:] I suppose I would not know until I knew what secrets she held.

[wiretap]

[ Again, clever. Again, Aberdeen's mouth twitches like she's trying to settle some sentiment there in her features, but it's still indecipherable. In that way she is more an animal than a woman, and perhaps the label of 'wildling' from Robb is not wholly misplaced. ]

Do you want to know to know her secrets? [ Aberdeen's head quirks. The implication is that she might discover them for him, or else already know. ]

[wolfdreamer]

[Sansa's secrets. Bran stares at Aberdeen as he considers this offer--for it is an offer; he can read that plainly enough. If any were to know secrets, it would be Aberdeen, with her magic--

But there are some small secrets that Bran holds, still; Rickon, I left Rickon, and though Sansa knows of wargs, she does not know of the journey beyond the Wall, and the three-eyed crow. Sometimes Bran thinks of these things, and thinks that he will tell Sansa of them--that he would like to tell her of them, if she can bear them, and tell Robb, too. But he should be the one to tell them.

So again, he thinks of how best to reply, and eventually--slowly--]

Yes. But I want her to tell me of them. [Because they are hers, she should be the one to speak them, when she wants to.] So I will have to ask her, as you said.