Arya Stark (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fearcutsdeeperthanswords) wrote2012-08-20 11:27 am
fearcutsdeeperthanswords) wrote2012-08-20 11:27 am
Entry tags:
- [comm] lastvoyages,
- a girl has no family,
- a girl has only wolf dreams,
- faceless,
- fear cuts deeper than swords,
- i am no one,
- i decide who lives and dies,
- i hate your stupid boat,
- needle was jon snow's smile,
- no more pack,
- not in braavos anymore,
- nymeria knows something's up,
- wolf dreams with stars and blood omnom
❈ | 019 | Text + Spam
[Open Spam]
[When she opens her eyes, she knows something is wrong.
She was meant to follow the kindly man down the stairs again, down and down and down, a hundred steps,a thousand steps, to the room with the faces. They were going to give her a new face. A pretty one, he'd promised, and her training would truly begin.
Her blood was still up, a quiet kind of exhilaration. The kindly man had believed her - maybe she had believed herself - when she said she was no one. Arya Stark was gone forever, and soon she would be more than an acolyte, soon she would be truly Faceless herself, and then--
But this wasn't the House of Black and White. It was her cell, yes, that much she could tell - but a quick look beyond her door had proven otherwise. Instead of leaving, she searched the room for clues, some hint of what how she'd been brought here.
All she found was Needle, and she trembled when she held her sword in her hands again.
Someone knew she had not gotten rid of it. Was this a punishment? For not ridding herself of Arya Stark's possessions? She could go now, find a canal and throw it away forever.
Needle was Jon Snow's smile.
No. No, she could not. Crawling under her bed, she worked at the stones until one loosened. She spent a long, long time there, hollowing out the space below the stone. Her nails, already stubby, broke in the work, but she didn't care. One broke too far down, and she bled, but that too was ignored. Pain would pass, but she had to hide Needle now.
Finally, she was able to slip the sword in, and cover it over with the stone, leaving the floor smooth. She pushed the dirt she'd dug out back in, covering Needle up, and scattered the rest. Wiping her hands on her white and black robe, Arya eyed the door. Her finger knife was gone, and the little one she kept in her boot. She didn't relish the idea of leaving without a weapon, but Needle was out of the question. And she couldn't stay here forever.
The halls largely looked similar to each other, she found. Eight of them, and another level below that was locked. Something was familiar about it all, but she couldn't place it.
When she pushed open the door to the deck, though, she froze, and her mouth fell open. The stars were here, bigger, closer seeming than in her dreams. There was more color, too, and she closed her eyes, remembering the night wolf's dreams. Snow, and blood, and stars. But she had to put those behind her, to give them up. The stars were still there, though, when she opened her eyes, and she thought that if she was still a wolf, she might howl to them.
But she was not a wolf. And you never were, she reminded herself.You're no one.]
[Infirmary Spam]
[The change in Nymeria was almost immediate. She'd been morose in the weeks since Arya had been gone, growing and hunting as usual, but without any luster. She walked with her head and tail down, ears and nose pricking up when anyone with familiar scents came close. There had been those with a residual scent of her girl, but most of that had faded, by now. She sits with her nose resting on her paws, still in the infirmary office. Arya's maester had been here one day, and gone the next; she couldn't find his scent anywhere, at least not a fresh scent. There was a new smell by his room, and she didn't like it at all. Familiar smells, comforting smells, were disappearing.
But then a new smell filtered into her nose - or maybe it wasn't a smell at all, but a sense, a knowing, a certainty, and Arya was here, and she had to go to her girl. But the door was closed and locked. Nymeria closed her jaws around the door handle, trying to turn it or rip it off entirely; she scratched at the door, and howled, howled, her pack was here, she had to go to her.]
[Public]
[Much later, when Arya has fumbled with her device (but not nearly so much fumbling as she did the first time she arrived; something about this, too, is familiar to her) she sends a message, in text.]
A girl does not understand why she has been brought here. She was in the House of Black and White one moment-- [It's meant as a threat - be wary, I live where the assassins live, I am one of them, I will be one of them--] and here the next. She would like to be returned.
(OOC: Derp forgot to mention! Arya doesn't have her Barge memories right now, but they'll be filtering back in with the week. But she'll continue to pretend not to know anything because how do handle relationships.)
[When she opens her eyes, she knows something is wrong.
She was meant to follow the kindly man down the stairs again, down and down and down, a hundred steps,a thousand steps, to the room with the faces. They were going to give her a new face. A pretty one, he'd promised, and her training would truly begin.
Her blood was still up, a quiet kind of exhilaration. The kindly man had believed her - maybe she had believed herself - when she said she was no one. Arya Stark was gone forever, and soon she would be more than an acolyte, soon she would be truly Faceless herself, and then--
But this wasn't the House of Black and White. It was her cell, yes, that much she could tell - but a quick look beyond her door had proven otherwise. Instead of leaving, she searched the room for clues, some hint of what how she'd been brought here.
All she found was Needle, and she trembled when she held her sword in her hands again.
Someone knew she had not gotten rid of it. Was this a punishment? For not ridding herself of Arya Stark's possessions? She could go now, find a canal and throw it away forever.
Needle was Jon Snow's smile.
No. No, she could not. Crawling under her bed, she worked at the stones until one loosened. She spent a long, long time there, hollowing out the space below the stone. Her nails, already stubby, broke in the work, but she didn't care. One broke too far down, and she bled, but that too was ignored. Pain would pass, but she had to hide Needle now.
Finally, she was able to slip the sword in, and cover it over with the stone, leaving the floor smooth. She pushed the dirt she'd dug out back in, covering Needle up, and scattered the rest. Wiping her hands on her white and black robe, Arya eyed the door. Her finger knife was gone, and the little one she kept in her boot. She didn't relish the idea of leaving without a weapon, but Needle was out of the question. And she couldn't stay here forever.
The halls largely looked similar to each other, she found. Eight of them, and another level below that was locked. Something was familiar about it all, but she couldn't place it.
When she pushed open the door to the deck, though, she froze, and her mouth fell open. The stars were here, bigger, closer seeming than in her dreams. There was more color, too, and she closed her eyes, remembering the night wolf's dreams. Snow, and blood, and stars. But she had to put those behind her, to give them up. The stars were still there, though, when she opened her eyes, and she thought that if she was still a wolf, she might howl to them.
But she was not a wolf. And you never were, she reminded herself.You're no one.]
[Infirmary Spam]
[The change in Nymeria was almost immediate. She'd been morose in the weeks since Arya had been gone, growing and hunting as usual, but without any luster. She walked with her head and tail down, ears and nose pricking up when anyone with familiar scents came close. There had been those with a residual scent of her girl, but most of that had faded, by now. She sits with her nose resting on her paws, still in the infirmary office. Arya's maester had been here one day, and gone the next; she couldn't find his scent anywhere, at least not a fresh scent. There was a new smell by his room, and she didn't like it at all. Familiar smells, comforting smells, were disappearing.
But then a new smell filtered into her nose - or maybe it wasn't a smell at all, but a sense, a knowing, a certainty, and Arya was here, and she had to go to her girl. But the door was closed and locked. Nymeria closed her jaws around the door handle, trying to turn it or rip it off entirely; she scratched at the door, and howled, howled, her pack was here, she had to go to her.]
[Public]
[Much later, when Arya has fumbled with her device (but not nearly so much fumbling as she did the first time she arrived; something about this, too, is familiar to her) she sends a message, in text.]
A girl does not understand why she has been brought here. She was in the House of Black and White one moment-- [It's meant as a threat - be wary, I live where the assassins live, I am one of them, I will be one of them--] and here the next. She would like to be returned.
(OOC: Derp forgot to mention! Arya doesn't have her Barge memories right now, but they'll be filtering back in with the week. But she'll continue to pretend not to know anything because how do handle relationships.)