002 ♕ video

[wont]

[ The camera comes on and here is Alayne Stone (yes, the same Alayne Stone that supposedly bled all over her bedroom floor when demons still ran amok on the Tranquility). To her credit, she's looking much better (much more healthy than she probably has any right to be). But that's the beside the point.

The camera comes on and here is Alayne Stone and she dips, giving the same perfunctory bow that she is known to give upon greeting. Though an effort has made to make herself look tidy, her brow is pinched with worry. Her words are quick and, often, she looks off camera at something out of sight. ]

My good Tranquility, [ she says in greeting, her clip not terse per say, but approaching it. ] I am looking for a man. I— I do not know his name, but should he see my face he will remember our acquaintance.

Twice now he has come to my aid. [ He avenged my death. He gave me a terrible knife. ] And— and I find myself in need of his aid once again. [ A pause and then, squaring her shoulders, she looks into the camera and says simply (as if it were directly to the man in question). ] It is a matter of wolves. Please— [ She is about to entreat him, but thinks better of it. (He does not seem the type to be swayed by begging.) ] —do not remain silent. I know you watch and listen.

I will eagerly await your word. [ A pause and then Alayne dips again, more awkwardly this time (she wishes she could say more). ] —thank you.

Comments

voice;

[20mentholkools]

[Twice was two times too many, he knows. He shouldn't respond. But she's left it open for anyone to see, and she isn't the only one he's spoken to on this ship, nor the only one he's refused to give him name to. He doesn't want her opening up the floor for discussions on him.]

Think I already told you: I don't know about wolves.

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[wont]

[ It makes her nervous, the sound of his voice, having it fill her ears when she cannot see his eyes. That is why Alayne detests his goggles so, those twin black lenses inking out any hope of understanding the ways he is moved and unmoved. Some of that nervousness pricks at her voice, but it little more than an intital tremble that is quickly smoothed. ]

The wolves know about you. Lady does. I've seen it.

voice;

[20mentholkools]

[The wolves know, and she was right about that. Lady had recognised him for what he was, just like the hellhounds on Crematoria had. She'd still guarded, still bristled and paced, shown her teeth when he'd had his little talk with Alayne in the locker room, but he understood that better than he understood people.]

It's not Lady you're asking for aid.

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[wont]

Lady is the one missing, [ she says quickly and insistently. ] She ran off in the night, and all attempts to find her have come to naught and— [ And she will not listen when I call. What I need's not a man, but a beast to fetch her. ]

King Robb had gone to fetch her, but he will no longer respond to my hails. [ There is concern for Robb, that much is obvious, but part of Alayne does not worry. For Robb has a sword and a good strong arm, whereas Lady has a maw that could easily win her retribution if not muzzled. ]

voice;

[20mentholkools]

[A long pause, silence. Her wolf and her brother missing, but she was more concerned about the beast than the man. Concerned enough to come asking for him.]

You want me... to go looking for your wolf.

[It isn't phrased like a question, but he leaves it hanging like one.]

voice; filtered

[siring]

A matter of wolves?

[the voice simply sounds curious]

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[wont]

[ Alayne knows nothing of technology and so she does not realize that a filter now guards their words. The question is simple and harmless, though her voice remains harried. ]

Of direwolves, yes. Have you seen one, stranger? Lost, amidst the halls. Silver backed and white of face. Larger than a normal wolf, but still small for her kind.

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[siring]

[His voice sounds calm.]

I can't say that I have, but I will be sure to keep an eye out. Something that large wandering around shouldn't be all too hard to miss.

Is she a danger to others?

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[wont]

[ A hesitation now. Normally, she would say without so much as a pause. But Jaye's message has set Alayne to worry. ]

She is not nearly as large as her brothers. But— but if she frightened, I cannot say. There is something that set her afright, and an animal will act to protect itself.

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[siring]

Who could blame them for it? [Says the animal.]

But brothers-- is there a pack on the ship? [She may not be speaking of actual werewolves, but if there are any on the ship... what better cover for them?]

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[tumbleweeds]

[ She's panting now, hair hanging down in her face, slick with sweat -- but she knows this girl and she knows her wolf, and she pulls herself together enough (it's not safe, can't stay human, have to keep moving, avoid the thread, kill the threat) to reply. ]

Lady?

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[wont]

Jaye—

[ The word escapes her before she has thought enough to silence it, but the sight of her startles Alayne, stuns her to momentary silence as she wonders, what is happening elsewhere on the ship. She knows nothing but what the devices tell her and even then, the messages are garbled and confused. First Lady, then Robb, and now Bran lies sleeping and unable to be woken.

Dumbly she nods. ] And Robb, with Grey Wind.

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[tumbleweeds]

[ The sound of her name shakes her out of it a little bit, and she visibly shudders before one hand runs through her hair, pulling some of it out of her face. Jaye. Coyote's master minder. That's her. Not the bear, not the wolf, not the tiger, and not the horse -- no matter how much she takes their forms. Right.

She just has to remember that. ]

Robb? [ She doesn't know a Robb, but that seems less important right now -- only important because Alayne said it, really. Jaye swallows, hand still in her hair, as if it's forgotten to move elsewhere. ] You should... stay where you are, if you can.

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[wont]

He went to fetch her for me. She ran off in the night, she was so very frightened. Or— or angry, and I don't understand. She's never angry, never, not even when—

[ The words come quick, in a great hurried rush, but Alayne stops herself and holds her tongue. (—not even when my father came to cut her throat.) That memory is Sansa's not Alayne's and so Alayne cannot speak it. ] —you must help me find them. You can do that, Jaye, can't you? You said you knew animals, and you've wolves hung from your ears.

If something has happened to her or to Robb or Grey Wind, I'll— [ I'll never forgive myself. What will I tell Bran? ]

Please say you'll help. Please, please.

video;

[tumbleweeds]

There's something in the ship. In the air-- I can smell it. Taste it.

[ It probably doesn't make sense to anyone else, but it makes sense to her, and it seems important to say it -- something in the air, something bad, something that makes her hackles raise. ]

I'll look. [ Just as she's looked for years, looking but never seeing, searching but never finding. Scott is as lost to her as Lady is to Alayne right now; more so, a wraith upon the wind, someone who won't answer his master's call because Scott has no master, just a sister who's been left behind. ] I'll try.

Does she get along with other wolves?

ACTION I think? if that's cool?

[wolfdreamer]

[With Robb gone after Lady, their number is very small: Bran and Alayne, and only Summer to guard them. The added safety Grey Wind afforded them is gone; Robb's direwolf left with him without question.

Bran listens to his sister's request, and he knows that she is worried over so much--over her wolf, over their situation, over the danger that might yet encroach their safety, though Summer is a good bastion against such threats, and even now, Bran's direwolf paces before the door. But Alayne must worry over the dangers outside their safety, too, the dangers to Robb and Lord Baelish.

He searches his sister's face, after she has made her request. He does not know the man that she speaks of, and he will not listen when she speaks to him, should he answer. There are secrets, he thinks, and looks to Summer, still pacing that tense and nervous line. His direwolf protects them, so he cannot send Summer out to search for Lady or for Robb or for Grey Wind, but as he watches, he thinks.]

Sansa. [He says her name quietly--they are alone, so it is safe to say, but still he treats her name as a precious thing; he is careful with it now.] Sansa, there is another way to find Lady.

UGH BB WOLF DREAMER COME TO BIG SISTER ;~;

[wont]

[ She has a knife. It's an ugly thing, cobbled together from a shard of sharpened metal and oiled up rags and strips of leather and the slathering of home-made glue. It is not her knife (not at first), it was given to her, and while Alayne had first thought to hide it away, squirrel in the depths of her locker where no one would ever have the chance to stumble upon it, the possibility of it had given her pause. The man with the eyes that gleam had offered it to her once he'd earned the truths that he sought and while Alayne had first viewed the gift with shame, she could not deny the usefulness of the thing (especially now, when their numbers were stretched so thin and meager).

Summer paces at the door and Alayne holds the thing awkwardly in her lap, the blade of it newly polished to a shine and the length of it settled on the pillow of folded up shawl. Her hand wrists limply on the handle (it's too large for her hand and arguably too heavy, but she has tested the weight of it behind the secrecy of a closed door and is trying, by degrees, not to fear it). Alayne's white raven caws anxiously in its gilded cage at Bran's words, as if it seems to know his secret. She looks to it and then to Bran, her hand abandoning the shiv to find his instead. ] As if I'd ever let you leave my sight, [ she says, assuming he means to be brave and follow after both her father and their brother. ] The Seven themselves could come knocking for you and I would not let you go.

;~~; FLIES TO ARMS WARGISHLY

[wolfdreamer]

[Her fingers are good and strong, even if they are slender, and when they toy with the crude knife, Bran thinks of Arya. He worries for her, too, a sharp and pricking worry that stings very much like a knife--but he must not despair. He can help. That must be known.

There is strength in her words as much as in her fingers, and he squeezes her hand. He looks to her white raven, and he looks to Summer, and then he looks to his sister.]

I would not have to leave. [He told her of his wolf dreams, but this is more than dreams, and he must tell her now. He grips her hand.]

Sansa-- I could be Lady. I could bring her back.

;~~; BIG SISTER WILL PROTECT YOU um with her creepy knife?

[wont]

[ Her first instinct is to chastise him, to tell him that this is no time for stories or other foolish things. Bran strives daily to be a good brother, to be more than he is, to be older and a little lord; Alayne knows this because she can see it in the way he looks to fold his hands and still his restlessness, in the manner in which he presses his mouth to a flat line as if to mimic some old man's version of seriousness. But Alayne also knows the truth: that Bran Stark is still very much a little boy, with a little boy's heart and a little boy's fancies (no matter how much he tries to hide it, a sister knows best and Alayne Stone may not be his sister, but she remembers Sansa Stark and the ways of her long-buried heart).

When she speaks, her voice is not harsh, though it seems tired and worn. ] Dreams again, is it? [ She does not frown, though her mouth thins as she squeezes his hands. ] Dreams cannot bring Lady back, Bran.

[theshabbiestofmen]

Are you still in need of assistance?

[wont]

Professor— [ The word is insistent, urgent, but then Alayne quells that sentiment, trying to make her voice even. ] —I was afraid you were unwell. [ She'd tried to hail him once, but to no success. ]

[theshabbiestofmen]

I was, for a few days. I'm far better now, though, thank you. Are you all right?

[In contrast to her even tone, Remus' voice is warm and worried.]

[wont]

Simply harrowed. These are trying times, [ she tells him and the words are not a lie. Again, her attention cants to one side, towards something off-camera that she cannot see. ] Is there a way we may speak— speak in private?

[ She has been told by Robb that there are those who hold secret conversations over the speaking boxes, though Alayne does not understand how. ]

voice;

[jilt]

What troubles you, Alayne? Are you well?

voice;

[wont]

Worried, Miss Irene. Lady has run off, into the bowels of the ship. Something gave her a fright and— [ And father is gone, and Robb after him, and— ] —I am anxious to see her recovered.