❈ | 018 | Voice

Jul. 10th, 2012 10:13 pm
fearcutsdeeperthanswords: (no longer a mouse)
[When the feed clicks on in the middle of the night, there's some scuffling, as if the device is being moved about. A blanket rustles, a wolf's claws clack across hard stone, and a little girl breathes in sharply.]

I dreamt--

[She cuts out mid sentence, and the device falls, its clatter muffled by a thing blanket. The clacking claws sound again, along with a bark, sharp and concerned, then angry and wild and uncertain. It's very loud, then fades, as if Nymeria's darting to and from the device. It goes on for a long few minutes, then abruptly, she falls silent. There are a few empty heartbeats, and then a howl starts on level seven, broadcasts across out from room eighteen, out further over the network, high and sad and mourning.]

[OOC: And Arya's off for a canon update! Leaving behind a very asdfkjh direwolf. :c]
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❈ | 017 | Video

Jun. 21st, 2012 10:33 pm
fearcutsdeeperthanswords: (you have the eyes of a wolf¸)
[Arya hasn't posted anything in months. This is because she dislikes you, Barge, and she wants to find a way off - but also because she has been spending more time with her wolf than she has with people. With a few exceptions. But mostly, Arya's been in the CES, running, practicing her 'dancing,' and, more often than not, keeping to herself.

It makes it easier when people leave, right. But Viserys has been gone for a long time now, and she hasn't done anything to mark his disappearance. And it's bothered her.

So today, the video clicks on, and the first thing you can hear is the crackle of a fire. It takes a moment for the video to come into focus, because Arya's face is too close as she putters with the settings. Everything shifts as she props the device up on the floor, using something to tilt the camera up so that the Barge can see her, and what she's doing.

And what she's doing is tending to a fire. On the deck. It's small, consisting of a couple books, a bunch of torn out pages, and some sticks from the CES. She's standing in front of it, prodding with a long stick, staring, at the fire for a long moment before looking up at the video. Nymeria is beside her, head cocked as she looks up at Arya; she doesn't understand what's going on, but it is important, and that is enough for her.]

There were dragons here, [she says, and she tries to be formal, at first, but that isn't really her way; instead, she's fierce.]

And now one's gone. He wasn't a real dragon. He didn't have wings. He couldn't breathe fire. But he was still a dragon. [She looks at the fire again.] He could stick his hand in fire and not be burned. Fire can't harm a dragon. [It's a lie, she knows it's a lie because she saw the burns on him. But he was her friend, so she'll lie for him.]

He was Viserys Targaryen. He was a king. And he's gone now, too. [She throws the stick down, and sparks jump up; she doesn't flinch away.]

I want wine. [And a scowl crosses her face, fierce and frustrated and angry.] And don't tell me I'm too young. I'm not.
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When at last she slept, she dreamed of home. The kingsroad wound its way past Winterfell on its way to the Wall, and Yoren had promised he'd leave her there with no one any wiser about who she'd been. She yearned to see her mother again, and Robb and Bran and Rickon...But it was Jon Snow she thought of most. She wished somehow they could come to the Wall before Winterfell, so Jon might muss up her hair and call her "little sister." She'd tell him, "I missed you," and he'd say it too at the very same moment, the way they always used to say things together. She would have liked that. She would have liked that better than anything.
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