eachdraidh | Video - Seelie/Unseelie

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Video - Seelie/Unseelie

[The image that comes onto the lockets is an almost peaceful one. The blue sky and white fluffy clouds that bob a little from the POV of the locket. A little movement shows that that's because the transmission is clearly coming from a boat. The locket, with a little more jostling, is shown to be resting in fabric on what appears to be the deck of the boat. One might be curious as to why a transmission was coming suddenly from seemingly nowhere on a boat, but the answer shows itself soon enough in the form of one suckered tentacle flipping the locket around. If it was ever possible for an octopus to look both pissed off and surprised out of its mind, this one was doing a very good job. One of its many arms clutched at a small feather, the other limbs flopping around and smacking at the deck as the thing clearly tried to actually go somewhere. It couldn't walk to save its life and wound up rolling out of the pile of clothes, taking the locket with it.

Heavy stomps could be heard as boots came closer across the deck to the cephalopod, a shadow coming between the sun and the locket as a large man loomed over it. "Well then. What's this? How's you get aboard, ye slippery little thing. Back to the sea with you."

A hand bent down to try to pick up the octopus and there was a flurry of lashing arms as it latched onto the man and refused to let go. Curses were spat and the man called out for a fellow sailor, but before the other man could come closer with the knife it held to free his shipmate, a third voice joined. One others might find a bit familiar. A naked seventeen year old was clutching the man's arm and looking up at him with fear and horror. It took Stiles about five second to remember about the locket and he dropped to the deck, scrambling for both his clothes and to turn the locket off.]

~*~

[It was about twenty minutes later when a red-faced Stiles showed himself on the network.]

Um, about that...

Sorry? I... have no idea what happened. One minute I was standing looking over the rails and the next... um... aha. Let's just pretend that didn't happen, okay? Okay. But, if anyone can tell me what just happened, that would be really, really helpful. Especially in making sure it doesn't happen again.

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What? Why not?

I do not think he'd want to.

[ look they just had their very first hug like two days ago. baby steps! ]

If he can sing to rabid pixies, I think we could get him to go along with a duet.

He and Arya would, perhaps...

And you. Why do you keep cutting yourself out of things/

I'm not--

[ but she does. she did. some vital cord had been severed the day lady had died. the gulf had only grown after that night in darry. treason; heartache; a wish to escape it all.

a wedding. ]

I don't. I dont.

But you have been. It's okay to do things with them, Sansa. They're your family. And you have friends here.

[ she hovers on the edge of honesty. tips on its cusp. her eyes are full of truth even though her mouth curls into a hollow smile. distant. stiles is such a sweet soul -- he tells her lovely things that make her feel almost right again.

but the truth is that she is always sliced apart. emptied out. but she says what she thinks stiles wants to hear: ] Yes. Of course. It's exactly as you say it -- we're kin. And we are friends.

[ this is what she knew. what she was skilled at doing -- telling charismatic men what they likely needed to be told. anything to avoid an argument. ]

... Are you bullshitting me? I have a feeling you're bullshitting me. My bullshit meter is dinging.

[Sansa. Sweetie. Babydoll. You can't lie to a liar.]

[ so. he will not allow her her lies.

sansa tries a secondary tactic -- circumnavigating the question with steeled and lady-like disapproval. ] Such language, Stiles. Is it necessary?

Would you prefer bullbleeping? Come on, Sansa, tell uncle Stiles what's up.

[ flatly: ] You are not my uncle.

[ and why would you claim to be! jeez! ]

It's a saying. Means I'm here for you if you want to talk about something. Good stuff, bad stuff, doesn't matter. Everyone needs someone to talk to, Sansa.

[ that had been her father's burden. but he was gone now. and sigrid had enough on her shoulders. arya, she thought, did not care. and jon...

jon does too much for her. she wonders when her heart will wear out its welcome with her half-brother. ] It...it isn't easy.

[ to talk. to share. to trust her secrets with anyone else. ]

No, it's not.

[He agrees simply because it's a fact. Trusting anyone with anything wasn't easy, but it could happen.]

Just letting you know you can talk to me. If you want. I'm not going to nitpick at you or anything unless I think you need a kick in the butt, which, before you ask, is just a saying. Metaphorical butt-kick to get you in gear.

-- It's a stupid saying.

[ which is rather brave of her to accuse, really. so at least she had that strength in hand. but any more honesty and her tongue went numb. but she tried: ] Jon has every right to refuse my company. It's a miracle he doesn't.

Yeah, well... there's a lot of similar stuff where I come from.

[He's surprised to hear her peg Jon as the one that might not listen to her. Or that he was the one she wanted to talk to.]

Why would he? He's your family. Family... Man, I know it works differently where you come from, but family's blood. It's hard to just ignore that. Or to stop caring.

I did not always call him brother. Not as I should have.

Why not?

[Yep, now you got him curious, Sansa.]

Because he was my half-brother. I knew it; we all knew it, when we were old enough to know.

[ but she does not call him so now. he is brother entire, and she is adjusting to the friendship. to the love. to the reliability she ought to have felt years ago. ]

Oh.

[Maybe he should have been able to figure it out on her own, what with their conversations when she was Alayne regarding bastards, but...]

What about now?

Now he will be my kin and my captain of the guard. [ my best champion. ] Whatever it takes, I will show him how sorry I am.

Sansa? I, uh... it's probably not my place-- aw, hell, I know it's not my place, but Jon doesn't really strike me as the kind of guy that needs a lot of asskissing. Just... talk to him. Tell him you're sorry. Tell him you changed. I swear, half your guys' stuff could be fixed with some actual talking.

Are all hurts so easily mended in America, Stiles? By talking?

Hah, no. Sometimes it can make it worse, depending on the people involved. But with you guys?

[He shrugged, giving her a half smile.]

I think it'll work for you guys. Communication is a hell of a thing, Sansa. It fixes more than it breaks.

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