ataraxion | » 3

[It's late at night when the transmission comes across and it's coming from one of the many kitchens where Angela's seated at a table, a small plastic tupperware container in front of her. The lid's been popped off and every so often, she reaches inside for one of the miniature Reese's peanut butter cups and unwraps it before popping it into her mouth. She's clearly been here for a while with the number of empty wrappers strewn around her, but she doesn't seem likely to go back to her room any time soon. At least not before she turns to the device and whispers into it.]

Most of you guys are probably sleeping or something. Who knows what time it is here, but I'm assuming you won't hear this until later. Either way, question mostly for the people who've been here for more than a couple jumps: do you get homesick? Or are you too busy dealing with the bullshit from the ship?

[Angela pauses to finish chewing the candy, following it up with another one that she swallows as she chooses her next words carefully.]

It's not like I've never been away from home. I've lived all over the world, some places only for a week or so, but at least I had a phone or the internet. Everybody I knew was never more than just a phone call away. I'm good for picking up and going because it's Tuesday, but I never stopped checking in.

[Another candy goes down before she lifts the wrapper in mock salute.]

Thanks for the candy, Isaac.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I am glad to hear it. I would not like to think of risk coming to you--especially as all magic here seems to be of different sorts. You might not heal so quickly if it were not your magician.

What do you paint?

Whatever I feel like painting. [She's also not going to tell him she draws dead people. Nope. Not going there with a kid.] Fruit, places I've been, people I see, maybe a direwolf or two...

[woah woah wait forget everything else]

Could you paint a direwolf?

I could paint a direwolf.

What could be traded for it?

[Angela strokes her chin like she's deep in thought and going to take this little boy for all he has.]

Let's see... nothing. It's free.

[He laughs. Lady you are cray!]

There must be some price to it--or something that can be traded. It would not be fair to take a painting for free!

[She damn sure is.]

Nope. I don't want anything for it. You can't make me take anything in exchange.

Yes, I can! I will not accept the painting until you accept a trade. Or I will send Summer to you, and he will pester you until you accept!

He'll just be pestering me forever then because I won't. It's a gift to you. I don't want you to give me anything.

[That's so not the way this works, but Bran makes a noise of musing all the same.]

We-ell... if it were a gift, then I could accept. But I will remember that you gave it to me.

[It's the way Angela works. Soon Bran will learn she is not like other adults. Or humans, period.]

That's okay. I'm fine with you remembering.

[AND HE WILL REMEMBER because Starks are honorable and don't forget kindnesses done to them/paintings made of their direwolves.]

Will you need to see Summer, or can it be painted from an image of him on this device?

I can do both, but I really would like to meet Summer, though. Maybe ask him myself if I can paint him.

Well--we have been spending time in the Gardens, so Summer has somewhere interesting to run. You could meet us there, if you like.

That sounds fantastic. It'll be a better background than just all this steel.

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