(third lemon cake) voice ✧ open to both courts

[steeledskin]

( VOICE: OPEN TO BOTH COURTS )

Fellow [ ... ] shardholders. Seven blessings upon you all.

[ sansa is back in caer glaem, but there is no visual recording to accompany this address. (perhaps foolishly) she believes she may be somewhat protected from joffrey's attention. she would avoid an address altogether, but she feels there are those in the opposing court who ought to be quietly warned against the evil presence in their midst. trouble is, she doesn't know their names. and so here is a quiet attempt to draw out some of those people she'd spoken with at the very outset of using these lockets. ]

These lands are impressive. I have spent the larger part of two turns of this moon travelling them. Their roads are hard, perhaps, but I find myself oddly...pleased that I made any progress at all. [ there is a quiet (and honest) reverence in her voice. improvement and daring is not a thing she expects of herself, and so the mere understanding that she can now build a fire or ride a horse for days? it kindles something in her heart. a spark of pride. ] Seelie. Unseelie. Both territories boast beautiful landscapes -- I should like to see them painted, perhaps. Are there any artists in either court? Painters? Sculptors? [ ... ] Have we any musicians? These kingdoms must have their own songs. I would fain learn them.

From what played at the first feast, I imagine fairy music must always be a delight.

[ a protracted conversations, perhaps. but she hopes to catch the ear of wary allies and would-be friends. and as for her public behaviour? ah, well. she will be alayne stone a little longer. she is not ready to reclaim herself in one headlong rush. small steps and little leaps must be made. ]

(ooc: this post comes on the evening of june 27th. if your character is in caer glaem and is more apt to find here somewhere around the castle, go ahead and hit me with an action thread instead. i'm good with it. )

Comments

[teenyoda]

Go on, bother him, Alayne. He'd love to be bothered. I bet it'll make him feel all puffy and important.

[Jab, jab, John.]

[chromosomes]

They're not naive. Plenty of people back home don't understand it either.

[ IGNORING YOU, STILES... ]

[steeledskin]

He told me as well, ser, that your titles are not inherited. Is this true?

[teenyoda]

That's because some of us at home learn about nice things, like kittens and puppies. Some people, not mentioning any names, learn how to kill you with a paperclip.

[chromosomes]

It is true. You have to earn your rank within the military -- otherwise they'd probably end up having someone completely useless commanding people who could do better, if they were given a chance.

[ And, to Stiles: ] I'm aware of what kittens and puppies are.

[steeledskin]

[ no. wait. sorry.

hold up a minute.

this is very important. ]

What is a paperclip?

[teenyoda]

Yeah? You ever held one? Pet a cute little furry face?

[Sansa's reaction had him biting back a grin.]

It's a tiny little piece of metal that's bent a certain way so it can hold pieces of paper together in a group. Not something one generally thinks of as a weapon.

[chromosomes]

Yes, Stiles.

[ John sounds like an exasperated father. ]

And I've never actually killed someone with a paperclip.

[steeledskin]

But you could?

[ she turns her head towards stiles. could he? ]

[teenyoda]

[He knows that tone well. Maybe John should meet his dad some time...]

Hah, don't let him fool you. He's playing all coy and innocent now, but give him a paperclip and piss him off? I bet he could totally take someone out with one.

[chromosomes]

With sheer dumb luck, I'm sure anyone could.

[steeledskin]

[ sheer dumb luck. ]

I doesn't sound like a very gallant weapon.

[ says alayne. but sansa knows you use what you must -- little specks of metal or poisons or the prospect of a long long fall from a tall tall place. ]

[teenyoda]

Weapons aren't supposed to be gallant, Alayne. They're supposed to make sure you're the one standing after it's all over. Where we're from. Swords are pretty much a thing of the past. Same with crossbows. We have like, guns and bombs and grenades and John probably has lasers.

Do you have lasers, John?

[chromosomes]

No, I don't have lasers. They're always working on more terrible weapons, though.

[ A pause, then- ]

Knights are only a ceremonial title, when we're from. Honor on the battlefield isn't... really a thing, anymore. People do things they're not proud of. Sometimes they have to live with it.

[ His voice has gone a bit distant, eyes not focusing on the locket. ]

[steeledskin]

[ honour is barely existent in her lands. she's seen so-called honourable men do things... ]

So why do they do them? [ she asks dully. but what she's really asking is why do kingsguard strike little girls? ]

[teenyoda]

Orders? It can be hard to go against something when you're used to being obedient. Or they're just a-- bleepholes.

This is why I don't really adhere to authority. Authority isn't always right.

[COUGH COUGH ARGENTS COUGH.]

[chromosomes]

Sometimes orders. Sometimes- well, like Stiles said. I can't speak for every man.

[ A pause, then- ]

Sometimes they're just too damn scared to stand up and say no.

[steeledskin]

[ for those of us playing at home, it is perhaps no surprise which sort sansa's heart aches for: ] Those poor men.

[teenyoda]

War sucks.

[He nodded, like he'd just dropped some intensely intelligent news bombs.]

People can suck too. But hey, there's some good people out there as well. Johnny boy here seems to be on the side of those that don't suck too hard, so... chat it up with him if you need to.

[chromosomes]

I was one of them, once. [ His words are meant for Sansa, even if Stiles is right there. ] Too nervous about what they'd do to me if I said no, if I refused to go along with what they wanted.

But eventually... if you're lucky, eventually you realize that what they could do to you doesn't matter as much if you're losing yourself to it. There are some times in war that it's kill or be killed, no matter who's on the other side -- but there are other times where you can show that you're still human.

[ He settles back, runs a hand over his face. Human or something like it, anyway. ]

[steeledskin]

[ at first, she thinks she's asking about the knights who had struck her -- hurt her and punished her under the king's orders. she think she's asking for some glimpse into their minds and how they could allow themselves to do it.

but no. in the end, she's asking about herself: how could she have let so much happen? she had rendered herself an object just as quickly as they had. and today is just another stumbling step back to humanity.

sansa reaches out and oh-so-gently touches stiles's arm -- on his elbow -- and she nods towards the locket. ] Th-thank you. Both of you. I've learned so much. [ she keeps her voice even. ] But I'm tired, now. I would retire to my chambers.

[ it's too much; it asks too much of her heart and memory. she depends upon her station and her frailty to grant her an exemption from the rest of the conversation. ]

[teenyoda]

[Keen senses pick out that something's off with her, but he's not going to press. Not right now and not in front of John. He nods at her and gives a quiet 'talk to you later' to John before closing the locket.]

No, that's fine. You, uh, want me to walk you there?

[He knew that 'ladies' got escorted pretty much everywhere, but he wasn't sure about the policy on walking them back to their rooms.]

[steeledskin]

Yes. Yes, please.

[ stiles is not (perhaps) the most ideal escort for her purposes. but he was still someone -- and kind enough. she shuffles down the bench a few inches before pulling herself gracefully to her feet. ] I would like that.

[teenyoda]

[He got up, staff going to the hand that wasn't nearest her. Then he held out his arm and gave her a smile.]

Come on. Let's get you back to your room. Sorry for wearing you out. I know... it's a lot. The whole modern thing and where you're from, and you only just got back from your trip. Sorry, Alayne.

[steeledskin]

It's not your fault; you're not to blame.

[ she hooks her arm stiffly around his elbow, wrapping her fingers 'round her cocked wrist so she might hold her arm in place. ] I ought to pace my curiousity. I ask too much of you. It's not fair -- you're not a book or a scroll, to be studied.