❆ | 036 | Text + Spam

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

[Leaving the bloody mess behind her in her little rented room, Mercy rushed down five flights. She had some lines to say, and Izembaro would have her head if she was late for her entrance. She wouldn't be late: the first act would finish soon, and she'd have plenty of time to catch her breath and say her silly lines. It would be harder not to roll her eyes at Bobono's fake cock.

As she ran through the day's heavy fog, though, something changed. Shifted. She couldn't tell what, at first, only that the fog was not so thick as it had been. And then, all a sudden, the fog was gone. And so was Braavos.

Skidding to a halt, Marcy stared down the long hall ahead of her, lined on either side with doors. This was not the way to the Gate. This was not the way anywhere.

Mercy, Mercy, Mercy, she thought to herself, and started forward again. Some magic was at work, here. She had to sort out what magic would send her back - before she was late. That was all there was for it.

One of the doors looked familiar, and she came to a halt in front of it, staring. This is Mercy's door. Reaching out, she pushed the door open, and there was Mercy's little room - only the spot where she'd left Raff's body was plain wood. The blood that had sprayed across her floor boards when she cut his throat was gone, too. But on her bed was something new. Closing the door behind her, Mercy picked up the queer black box, turning it over.]

asdfsdljkgh

[No sooner does she accidentally send the text to the network does she manage to turn on the video: there's a flash of a shaven head, a shapeless brown dress of wool, even the blue hempen rope that serves as her belt. A flash, and no more. Her fingers find the off button, and she slips the device into her pocket. It doesn't belong in this room, but neither does she. Only Mercy does, and Mercy wouldn't spend time looking over such a strange thing. So she turns and leaves again, looking up and down the hall before picking a direction. Mercy is bubbly and sweet, but Arya knows how to disappear.

She follows her feet, wearing Mercy's confusion and her sweet smile, but looking with Arya's eyes. There is something familiar here, only she knows Mercy has never been in a place like this. The problem is, she doesn't know when she would have been, either.

When she reaches the deck she gasps, and for a few moments, Mercy is too afraid to move. It's the whole of the sky, and Mercy is afraid it will swallow her whole. But that, she knows, is silly. She forces herself forward, finding a secluded spot by the rail where she can crouch and pull the communicator out for a better look. Mercy wouldn't bother with this strange thing, but she understands that many things are worth knowing.]

Comments

[indispensible]

[Arya.]

[Vin is off and running in an instant. Arya, Arya, Arya; she knows her smell and the sound of her gait, and she will find her, she will find this girl who became, somehow, irreplaceably important to her. Clifford pounds after her, not quite able to keep up with the pace she's set--]

[And there's the deck, and there's Arya, shaved bald and older and wearing some other girl's expression, but instantly recognizable. Vin doesn't cry out, but skids to a halt in front of her, looking down with an unreadable look on her face.]

[patheticvillain]

Arya?

What the fuck happened to your hair?

video

[fire_punk]

Arya? What happened to your hair? [He looks worried.] And where's Nymeria?

[hearrrtofgold]

[The stars on deck often do that to Duke as well: back home on an open sea they're breathtaking, but here they're dizzying, a reminder of the enormity of possibility. Back home he'd wonder if there were other worlds around those stars. Now he knows, and contemplating it is both inspiring and terrifying.

Of course he's not the only one who feels this way. There are often other stargazers around the deck, although only one he knows of quite that small and dark and determined.

She's hiding the way River would. So instead of just calling out to her, Duke settles down to sit an arm's length from her, his legs crossed underneath him.]

Pretty incredible, isn't it?

[mercurialize]

[Kylar spots her on deck and squints a moment, leaning forward. He knows he isn't seeing things. Or at least, he's pretty positive. Illusions, you'd think, would be more convincing. But that's definitely an odd wardrobe selection for her.]

Nice, uh, haircut.

[myresponsibility]

[Peter catches her on deck, and is momentarily surprised, wondering if this is Arya or not, or just another one of those freak evil twin things the Barge likes to throw at people every once and a while.

It definitely seems like her, though, which is less a comment on his ability to see through her Mercy disguise and more that she's still wearing old timey clothes and didn't exactly have long hair before, so he walks over and gives her outfit a once over once he's closer.]

Wait, wait, don't tell me-

You're a mummer.

[Look he's learning!!!]