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001 ♕♗ video
[ The camera flickers on to reveal the ceiling to one of the passenger quarters. There is the rustling of movement and then, after, the image jostles and then wrongs itself to show a wisp of darkly colored hair and the pale sliver of a young woman's profile. She doesn't seem to realize the device is recording because soon, the camera is covered up by her hand, as well as the microphone, so her voice comes muffled and at a distance. When she speaks, it's apparent she's speaking to someone else there with her and not the device itself. ]
Do you think it best we show our faces? Perhaps they would be more willing to help us, were they to see our entreatments. [ The image jostles again, from side to side. A hand here, an eye there. Bits and pieces of a person, blurred by movement and dimness.
A second of hesitation is the only reply, first. There are too many tales of enchanted objects lying in wait, to steal souls and work other mischief. And they are none of them true (probably), but even so— ]
Yes. But we should carefully show ourselves. Do you know how to work the device to show pictures?
[ There is a bit of primness to her voice when the young woman speaks again; something like pride, albeit tempered by an attempt at humility. ] I've not been idle during my time here, [ she says. ] All the things I know, you'll know as well. In time, I promise. But first—
[ More fumbling and, finally, the picture sets itself to rights to reveal a young woman with burnt brown hair and a young boy seated beside. Were someone to look at them both long enough, they would perhaps notice something of a familial resemblance (though each will deny it, if asked). Setting the camera to rights, the woman leans over and whispers something into the boy's ear, the murmur too low to be picked up by microphone. Then, she nods, smiling faintly at him.
He looks to her first, hesitating—but then finds his strength and turns back, his chin lifted higher. ]
I'm—I am Bran Stark of Winterfell, newly come to this ship. I have been told a great many things of this place, some of them strange—but I am pleased to have come, and pleased to make meeting with the people here. [It is a route and studied response, a lord's response, somewhat stiff, and he looks back to her to confirm that it was well said.] My—companion, Lady Stone, has said that I might ask things of this device, and be give responses in reply. I am seeking my wolf--my direwolf, Summer. He is large, but he will not harm anyone. You have my word of that.
And a lord's word is goodly. [ The lady 'Stone' interjects. It was a lie, she knew as much, but this lord was honest and good. ] I have heard talk of animals aboard the ship. Of cats and dogs, alike. If Summer is here, it is of great import that we find him. A wolf does poorly without its pack. [ A pause and the girl dips her chin, pressing a modest hand to her chest in an expression of earnestness. ] We have little to give in exchange for answers, though we do promise our thanks and a favor in kind. The ship is vast and we're loath to explore without proper company, though— [ Again, she turns to look at Bran, her gaze flickering imperceptibly to his legs. Should they ask for Hodor? ] —though any offer of help will not be turned away.
[ Again, he hesitates—he can read the question in her eyes, and it is one that they have talked of, but even so, now that it comes time to ask— ]
There is also my servingman, called Hodor, who is also quite large and harmless. I should find him as quickly as I might. He is simple-minded, but kind, and— [ He looks down at his legs a moment— another quick glance at his companion— ] I am crippled, and require his aid.
[ There. It's been said. His ears go a little pink, his shoulders slump—it's a weakness he'd sooner not have revealed, though it would have soon been learned—and still, he keeps his chin high, as much a lord as he can manage. At the very edge of the picture it is visible to anyone who would take notice— the girl touches the boy along the edge of his arm, a small encouraging gesture as her hand encloses the round of his elbow, patting. And, perhaps she is proud. It is not small thing to admit. He continues: ]
Any help that can be given would be met with my earnest thanks. With our earnest thanks.
[ ooc; Alayne and Bran. ]
Do you think it best we show our faces? Perhaps they would be more willing to help us, were they to see our entreatments. [ The image jostles again, from side to side. A hand here, an eye there. Bits and pieces of a person, blurred by movement and dimness.
A second of hesitation is the only reply, first. There are too many tales of enchanted objects lying in wait, to steal souls and work other mischief. And they are none of them true (probably), but even so— ]
Yes. But we should carefully show ourselves. Do you know how to work the device to show pictures?
[ There is a bit of primness to her voice when the young woman speaks again; something like pride, albeit tempered by an attempt at humility. ] I've not been idle during my time here, [ she says. ] All the things I know, you'll know as well. In time, I promise. But first—
[ More fumbling and, finally, the picture sets itself to rights to reveal a young woman with burnt brown hair and a young boy seated beside. Were someone to look at them both long enough, they would perhaps notice something of a familial resemblance (though each will deny it, if asked). Setting the camera to rights, the woman leans over and whispers something into the boy's ear, the murmur too low to be picked up by microphone. Then, she nods, smiling faintly at him.
He looks to her first, hesitating—but then finds his strength and turns back, his chin lifted higher. ]
I'm—I am Bran Stark of Winterfell, newly come to this ship. I have been told a great many things of this place, some of them strange—but I am pleased to have come, and pleased to make meeting with the people here. [It is a route and studied response, a lord's response, somewhat stiff, and he looks back to her to confirm that it was well said.] My—companion, Lady Stone, has said that I might ask things of this device, and be give responses in reply. I am seeking my wolf--my direwolf, Summer. He is large, but he will not harm anyone. You have my word of that.
And a lord's word is goodly. [ The lady 'Stone' interjects. It was a lie, she knew as much, but this lord was honest and good. ] I have heard talk of animals aboard the ship. Of cats and dogs, alike. If Summer is here, it is of great import that we find him. A wolf does poorly without its pack. [ A pause and the girl dips her chin, pressing a modest hand to her chest in an expression of earnestness. ] We have little to give in exchange for answers, though we do promise our thanks and a favor in kind. The ship is vast and we're loath to explore without proper company, though— [ Again, she turns to look at Bran, her gaze flickering imperceptibly to his legs. Should they ask for Hodor? ] —though any offer of help will not be turned away.
[ Again, he hesitates—he can read the question in her eyes, and it is one that they have talked of, but even so, now that it comes time to ask— ]
There is also my servingman, called Hodor, who is also quite large and harmless. I should find him as quickly as I might. He is simple-minded, but kind, and— [ He looks down at his legs a moment— another quick glance at his companion— ] I am crippled, and require his aid.
[ There. It's been said. His ears go a little pink, his shoulders slump—it's a weakness he'd sooner not have revealed, though it would have soon been learned—and still, he keeps his chin high, as much a lord as he can manage. At the very edge of the picture it is visible to anyone who would take notice— the girl touches the boy along the edge of his arm, a small encouraging gesture as her hand encloses the round of his elbow, patting. And, perhaps she is proud. It is not small thing to admit. He continues: ]
Any help that can be given would be met with my earnest thanks. With our earnest thanks.
[ ooc; Alayne and Bran. ]
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We are from a place of some kind. Westeros--but there are few here who know of it.
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But I mean, it's good that you've got friends here, right?
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Are you alone?
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Sorry, I'm Hayley, by the way. Hayley Stark.
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You're a Stark?
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Um. And I'm gonna go with uh, that last name means a lot more to you than it does to me, huh?
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Stark is the name of my House--one of the great Houses of Westeros. And my surname, too. No one but my family bears the name in our land.
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The Starks are the noblest of the great houses in the Kingdoms. My lord brother is King in the North, and he's the bravest man I know. My younger brother, Rickon-- [He swallows, and tries not to make much of that.] He's fiercely brave. And I have sisters, too, though I've not seen them. They rode south with my father.
[And that is too painful, now, and he can't quite keep that from his face--but he pushes his hand over his eyes, banishing it.]
What of-- what of your family?
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It sounds like you've got a big name to live up to. That's gotta be hard.
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[And then, after considering, he adds:] Starks are always good, too, so your answer makes sense. Even if we might not be of the same house, not really.
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maybe pride. even if, as he said, they aren't really comparable. ]
So what kind of Stark are you gonna be?
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Instead, he looks down at his hands, fidgeting a little.]
A good one. A wise one. A loyal one, and should my brother have need of me, I will do whatever he requires. [He glances up at her, shyly.] What of you?
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but then- who is she to judge anyone? her reply is quiet, but no less warm. ]
I dunno yet.
I think I'm still trying to figure out 'Hayley'.
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That's good, too. What does a Hayley do?
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What does a Bran do?
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Nothing. I go outdoors when Hodor can take me outdoors. I sit council while my brother is gone, but I am not so good at that. I have lessons, but I'd rather listen to stories. Good stories, of magic and adventure. At home, there are some guests to Winterfell that keep me company, but here I have Alayne.
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video; DOUBLE YOUR STARK, DOUBLE YOUR FUN
A Stark, you say—? Hayley. [ Alayne seems to be testing the word. ]
video; is what we're calling it nowadays?
[ there's a momentary pause. ]
The name doesn't really matter much. Where I'm from, I mean.
video; there are other words for it, but they're all TERRIBLE
In Westeros the Starks are great house of honorable men. [ Were a great house. Alayne doesn't correct herself. ] Their ancestors with the Kings of Winter and—
Lord Bran is a Stark. For us, it holds great meaning that you share his name.
yeah see, that sounds more like it
That's a lot to live up to for such a little guy.
we aim to please o__o;;
He is a Stark, [ Alayne says again and then tips her chin up, somewhat proudly. ] And I have faith in all that he does.
no subject
What if he wants to be something more?
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Something more—? [ she asks, as if such a thing were inconceivable. ]
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Like, what if he wanted to just be Bran.