eachdraidh | first scream ♚ voice ♚ open to both seelie and unseelie.

I've heard that this magic device is the best way to address both the Seelie and Unseelie courts and their members. In the midst of all of this chaos surrounding these disgusting worm beings, I find myself wondering why it is that no one has tried to take a general census of the population. We're clearly, most of us, new arrivals. For whatever reason that may be, it stands to reason that we should at least talk to each other. Especially since it's likely that we all have at least one or two other people we know from our own homes. So, first things first. How many of you have come across someone you knew before you arrived here? Are they friends, or are they enemies? How are you handling things? ( Lydia has determined that she needs to take a survey, more or less, and find out as much as she can. See if she can discern any patterns in the population. See if she can find a rhyme or reason to what's going on... To why this place, why these people, why this timing. )

Secondly. If there's anyone else here from Beacon Hills... Speak up. Clearly there's something going on here that involves at least a few of us. I'm wondering how many more of us there are.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

In that case, you must be very accomplished.

You could say that. ( She shrugs. ) I have the highest IQ in my class.

Is it good? To have a tall IQ?

It means I'm the smartest. So... Yeah, actually.

A-actually...would you tell me how such a thing is in fact measured?

It's a series of complicated testing elements, actually. The tests are standardized, and a score is given based on a person's cognitive abilities in relation to their age group.

[ it sounds awful. but sansa won't say so. ]

I'm afraid we have no such means of measurement in Westeros. Not that I know of -- but perhaps it's similar to how maesters earn their chains.

Gonna need an explanation about what a maester is, exactly, and why chains are still a thing.

They are...scholars, I suppose. And when they learn enough about a thing they earn a link for their chain.

Interesting system. So what sort of chain is it, then? A necklace? The kind that might eventually keep them imprisoned...? Lots of different kinds of chains, you know.

A collar. The chains make a collar -- long and looping, though it does stand as a symbol of how the Maesters serve not themselves but the realm. Each link is of a different metal and each metal signifies a study. Black iron is for ravenry, for example.

So it's kind of like a self-inflicted status symbol of servitude?

Yes. But also -- I think -- a point of some pride.

How medieval of them.

...Beg pardon?

Medieval. Archaic. Outdated practices?

Certainly, the Maesters' orders have been around for a long while. But I'm not certain it's fair to call them archaic.

Maybe not in your time period, but as far as modern civilization goes, it's pretty ancient.

If my -- [ sansa huffs, confused. feeling judged and dismissed for her time and place. it's a whole new experience to have so many others speak so lightly of things that (for her) are hard truths. ] -- if my ancientness offends you, I will do my best to mitigate it.

What? No! No, it's not... offensive. Just a little hard to wrap my head around things that sounds like what I've read in my history books about the dark ages. There's nothing wrong with it. But it's weird for me, I guess, to hear of it as a common thing, being from the time period I'm from.

And strange as well for me to hear about...flapping birds.

[ well. not just flapping birds. birds flap all the time. it was all the other muck that was difficult to swallow. ]

It's a game. Maybe they'll have it at the Station. Have you heard about that place? Supposedly totally up to date technology. I don't even know why I'm still here if that exists.

I've heard its name. [ she nods. ] But it seems a terribly long way to go.

[ especially for things she doesn't understand. ]

Oh? No one's explained the distance between there and here yet, not down to an exact mileage, anyway. ( Still. )

I believe it is a month, at least, by horse.

[ but she might be wrong. ]

(no subject)

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