personaldemon: (zART - Man)
Yarva Demonicus Etrigan ([personal profile] personaldemon) wrote in [community profile] taxonomites2012-07-23 12:22 pm

[Text] / [Location: a cafe in Speares]

Does anyone know if transfer of credits can be accomplished from one person to another, here? So far all I have managed is using them at the stores or with the hatches, and as it happens this 'allowance' they give us isn't really adequate.

Where I was from, I offered my services in a consulting capacity, but if I cannot get payment for such here, then that isn't incredibly practical.

....on a similar note, if anybody wishes their tarot read, it appears I'm doing this for free until I figure out a way to return an investment on the deck I just hatched.

If so, I'm at the version of the Café Procope that they have apparently stolen from Paris and transplanted here. It is in the Speares district. I may be found at one of the upstairs balcony tables.
thelonewolf: (don't look)

[text]

[personal profile] thelonewolf 2012-07-23 10:28 pm (UTC)(link)
i could've killed anyone who tried to hurt them. we got there too late. the hound could have tried. i tried to run to her but he hit me with an axe and took me away. he should've saved her.
thelonewolf: (watching)

[Text] 1/2

[personal profile] thelonewolf 2012-07-24 08:44 pm (UTC)(link)
I don't know. One of the Freys. The Hound wouldn't let me go to the castle. I only knew she was dead because I saw her in a dream.
thelonewolf: (wont let them hurt him)

[Text] 2/2 - a bit later

[personal profile] thelonewolf 2012-07-24 08:46 pm (UTC)(link)
can you tell me which one did it? will it say it in your cards?
thelonewolf: (fear cuts deeper than swords)

[Text]

[personal profile] thelonewolf 2012-07-30 12:07 am (UTC)(link)
I don't care. i'm not afraid.
thelonewolf: (lost)

[Location: Cafe in Speares]

[personal profile] thelonewolf 2012-07-30 04:47 pm (UTC)(link)
"Fear cuts deeper than swords," the girl tells herself as she makes her way, swift and quiet, to the cafe where Jason Blood waits. Her heart thumps in her chest, but she wills it quiet and breathes deep before entering. Her hair is just a bit longer than it was when she first arrived months ago, so she looks just a bit more like a girl, but not much. It's still dirty, and Needle swings idly at her hip, but her hands are clean and her eyes are bright and grey.

She doesn't see his red hair at first, scanning the first floor and making no move until she spots him. Then she does, but it's upstairs near the balcony. She swallows and steels herself, Fear cuts deeper than swords, and makes her way on light bare feet upstairs.

He's not alone, so she waits in the shadows until he is, watching him closely, seeing with her eyes. She wonders if he can really tell the future, see the past, or the present. Thoros of Myr could, and that old woman who said she smelled of death. Thinking of those things makes her hesitate and look back toward the stairs, but she keeps herself there. She wants to be strong, like Robb. Like her mother.

When he's alone, she approaches.
thelonewolf: (looking up)

[Location: Cafe in Speares]

[personal profile] thelonewolf 2012-07-31 02:44 pm (UTC)(link)
Arya sits, eying the things on the table as she does. Why does he need a needle? she wonders. She was never good at sewing and she doesn't want to have to try.

"What's that for?" she comes out and asks.
thelonewolf: (House Stark)

[Location: Cafe in Speares]

[personal profile] thelonewolf 2012-07-31 11:04 pm (UTC)(link)
Arya is no craven. She's a Stark, if nothing else, and the Starks of Winterfell aren't afraid of spilled blood.

But it isn't just that that's got her belly in knots. She wants to know who killed her mother, and Robb too. She watched the Lannisters lie and call her father a traitor and cut off his head, and hated them for it. Joffrey, and the Queen, and Ser Ilyn Payne too. She can still see their faces.

These were to be faces she might not know, or worse, faces she did know. Faces of people who were supposed to be loyal to her brother, her mother, her father.

She shakes her head, silently, and holds her hand out for Jason, waiting for the painful prick of the needle. "I want to know," she says, softly, strongly.
thelonewolf: (don't look)

[Location: Cafe in Speares]

[personal profile] thelonewolf 2012-08-01 12:07 am (UTC)(link)
The prick on her finger is sharp and stings, but she keeps still to keep from flinching. She watches as the blood sinks and twists into the water, coiling and mingling with Jason's, and then disappearing. For a moment, she expects to see something in there, a face in the water, or for the blood to form into a word, a name.

But nothing happens and then Jason Blood speaks, and she snaps up. She tries to do as he says, to focus on what she wants. It's hard, because now that she thinks about that night she thinks about everything else too, the fires and the wolf howling and that song Tom o' Sevens had sung, and the rider coming at her with the arms of House Frey. The black sky. The rains. The drums.

It's a while before she speaks, at least a full moment, so she can clear everything else out and focus just on her mother, trying to calm the sharp renewed sting of rage and grief. "Who killed my mother?" she asks, eyes boring into the bowl, just like his are, as if the answer is right there.
thelonewolf: (little sister)

[Location: Cafe in Speares]

[personal profile] thelonewolf 2012-08-01 12:41 am (UTC)(link)
"The Lannisters..." The lion's roar spurs the twins to treachery. But Arya cannot remember seeing their banner amidst the battle, nor on the lion on their armor. But if they were there...

Even though Arya knows this, even if the Freys were supposed to be her brother's friends, that her uncle was supposed to be marrying one of Lord Frey's daughters, that her mother's body was in a river, cold and white and naked with blood on her throat, she still shudders.

Grief and anger wells up inside her, and unwanted tears that did not fall. She knows all this, but it makes her sad all over again.

"Who?" she insists, stubbornly.
thelonewolf: (prayer)

[Location: Cafe in Speares]

[personal profile] thelonewolf 2012-08-01 01:00 am (UTC)(link)
She chews on her lip as he concentrates, half-wondering if this was all a ruse, some cruel trick. No one ever gave her what she wanted. When she asked Thoros to return her father to her, to raise a dead man like he had so many times before, his answer was 'no.' Jason Blood's answer would be no too, she was sure of it.

And then he spoke.

Raymund Frey.

She doesn't know the name. She doesn't have a face to imagine, a face to hate. She has a new name to whisper at night, and one day she will find him and cut his throat and maybe throw him in the river, or to the wolves, but right now the answer leaves her cold.

"Raymund Frey," she repeats, for the first time. Something dark slithers underneath her voice, something muted and far away. "Do you see anything else?" she blurts out suddenly, her voice rushed and her eyes wide and desperate. "My brother Robb, or--or what happened? Or why?"

Tell me, she thinks. Tell me everything. Tell me tell me tell me.
thelonewolf: (what am I seeing?)

[Location: Cafe in Speares]

[personal profile] thelonewolf 2012-08-01 01:33 am (UTC)(link)
She chews on her lip so hard it draws blood, hands balled into tight little fists in her lap under the table, nails digging into her palms. Robb...

She doesn't want to believe it. It can't be true. They called him the Young Wolf, and he was King in the North. He could have beaten them, he could have beaten them all.

Jason suddenly draws back, she notices for the first time. His eyes pierce the bowl of water and his hands grip the table so hard she thinks they break fall right off. What does he see? she wonders, peering over, seeing nothing but still water, thinking of her older brother Robb with snow in his hair. "What?" she asks. "What do you see? Tell me!"
thelonewolf: (no trust)

[personal profile] thelonewolf 2012-08-01 02:13 pm (UTC)(link)
Her face falls and she realizes only now she has been standing up so she could see better. She slowly sits back down, eyes on him the entire time, trying to look with her eyes at his face. His hands are clenched and white, his face just as pale.

He did see something. He did.

She chews on her lip. Raymund Frey. And a nameless man who stabbed Robb in the heart. It's what she wanted, and yet it's not enough.

"You're lying," she says, not particularly loudly, but cutting all the same. "I want to see for myself." She knows she can't; all she sees is water. But she wants to.

(no subject)

[personal profile] thelonewolf - 2012-08-01 20:22 (UTC) - Expand