trustfelled | Welcome.

You don't remember how you got here.

It may be one of the first things to occur to you when you wake up, that you don't know when you got here, what you were doing involved nothing like this; granted, it's also possible that it doesn't matter – that whatever circumstances you last remember have nothing on the fact that this bed is really comfortable and the room around you is gently-lit.

It's warm, but it's nowhere near where you're supposed to be.

Whatever you think of it, the fact is that you can't stay there forever; there's a silver key resting on that trunk near your bed, and you might want to take it on the way out. It's no big deal if you don't, exactly – it won't lock automatically after you close the door, that has to be done manually – but it'll probably become clear that privacy is a commodity in a place like this.

After all, you aren't alone; the hallway is likely quick to become populated with other people that are just as confused as you are. Go ahead and talk to them if you'd like; none of you will know exactly how you got to the building with the wooden walls and the odd windows that no one can see through, but that doesn't mean you can't get to know each other on the way to...wherever it is that you're going.

Wander long enough and you may hear the chiming of a clock nearby.

It's hard to tell whether it's telling you it's very early or very late at night, but checking out the room it's in eventually might be a good idea regardless; it's large and open, designed to accommodate social gatherings from the look of it, with the clock in question mounted against the western wall. It isn't the only thing here, though – there's a large frame set into the wall nearby, and it contains some information that might be relevant to your interests...

Or perhaps your attention is drawn instead to the other framed information nearby; don't worry if you miss it in here, though. It's posted in every other room in the building.

There's also the matter of the large double-doors at the end of the room; they aren't going to open, regardless of what you do.

Looks like you're trapped here for the time being. Might as well see who's here with you, right?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Drugging us and shipping us off to a place no one knows.

Seems like you'd need something close to sorcery to pull that off.

Not really. My mother uses medicine that can knock anyone out. With a fast enough train, you can get anywhere.

[long pause]

... Now, girl, you're going to have to get used to me asking you very stupid questions...

My mother's a doctor.

[ That... somewhat explains the first part?? ]

A train is a giant metal thing with wheels. It travels on train tracks. The fastest can get you across the country in a couple of hours. That's if you're rich enough.

[okay, he's trying... thinking... trying to... okay, no, he can't wrap his mind around this at all. fuck it.]

Hours. [whistles slightly] What I wouldn't give for something like that. I've been traveling north for a whole month-- to do all that in mere hours... Gods, what do you people do with all the time you save?

I wouldn't know. The ones who ride trains usually never make it home.

... You're a rather dour girl, aren't you. [god he is SURROUNDED BY STARKS and it's not half as fun as he would've thought.]

Are you always this observant?

I'm a king; I don't have to be. I've got advisors to do that for me.

[ .... oh boy. ]

Do you have advisors to do your thinking for you, too?

Aye, and anything else I don't feel like doing. [beat] I'd give 'em the whole damn throne if I could.

You don't sound like any of the kings I've read about. Or presidents.

The book that could contain me hasn't been written.

[ what is that supposed to mean. ]

Right. Because you're not dead yet?

[ That's how it works, right ]

Exactly. They only ever write about the dead. Once you've been written about, you're just another line in a history. You stop being a man.

And you called me dour.

You are. You're a child of winter if I've ever met one.

I was born in May.

... It's more a proverbial winter than a true one, you see.

... Sure.

[ that still doesn't explain what he means tho ]

... [gods is he gonna have to EXPLAIN IT fuck. where is ned. why is ned not here.]

Winters are rough, where I'm from. They can last for years, even longer. Nothing grows; it's all cold and barren. Long ones can see children be birthed and die, all in darkness. But, those who survive it are tougher than summer children. They're harder, tougher. If you can live through a long winter, you can live through anything.

[ ... wow. ]

So, it's a compliment. Glad to hear it.

[ She's getting a lot of those today. Okay. ]

It's one of the greatest I could imagine. I've got very fond feelings for the North.

[ what do you do with compliments ]

... You really got all that from just talking to me for a little while, too.

[ nailed it. ]

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killedbyapig - 2016-07-04 03:44 (UTC) - Expand

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