One - Well Honed Thought

[tallasaking]

Who: Tyrion Lannister
Broadcast: Fleet-wide
Action: Aboard the Marvisa
When: Er, nowish.

[When the communication device is turned on, you are greeted with a scarred, bearded face that has seen better days, topped with golden curls mixed with black, and mis-matched eyes besides. Despite this rather ... interesting visage, the eyes are mixed with some sort of dark humor and his mouth is crooked with a flat sort of smile. The voice, however, ah, flows like honey.]

Good day, my fellow travelers. I apologize for my ... current state of less than noble stature, but I assure you that a wash and a shave will do no one any favors. I find myself at more of a loss over silken robes onto what ... precisely I am doing here. I have some knowledge - I am on something called a space ship, I am to be an engineer for such a vehicle but ... not entirely sure where, and I am here to entertain people. And before I forget my manners further I am Tyrion Lannister. If that name means anything to you, knowing that I have been thrown into such a role probably amuses you, so I appear to be ahead on my designated purpose on this show.

For the rest of you, I have two questions. One ... is it to be considered amusing when my lack of practical application in managing such a metal beast sends us crashing into some other spacial object, and two, ... there is wine here, is there not?

[A sigh, and a hand rubbing across his beard.] Not a great deal is needed. Just a glass. Just so I can ... stop breathing heavily and think we are all about to suffocate from the lack of oxygen from apparently being surrounded by an airless ... vacuum, I believe the word is, popping into my mind. Yes.

[He smiles, and it's not a bad smile at that.] Pleasure to meet you all, by the by.

Comments

[sinuosity]

A shame, [ if she swung that way and if he was her type. Sadly, neither condition is filled. ] there are many kinds of strength and more than one way to fight. We'll see if you're a fighter yet.

[ A beat. ]

I have a bow.

[ She takes out her collapsible one, which had been folded carefully into her clothes, and with a single movement, it unfolds. ]

[tallasaking]

Ah, if we are looking into that kind of strength ... then I retract my modest stance. I have been a fighter since I came to this earth.

[Interesting ... oh, very interesting. Tyrion watched as the bow unfolded, letting out a low whistle.] Now that is a fine weapon, to be sure. Almost as fine as my tongue - but surely you knew that already.

[One corner of his mouth quirked up, as he eyed the bow.] You will need arrows of sterner stuff than wood, methinks.

[sinuosity]

[ She smirks. Nyssa only ever respects fighters. ]

I'm accustomed to aluminium, or carbon fibre. Yet, you know as I do, wood and flint kill a man just as easily.

[tallasaking]

Well.... I know those to be metal, but I do not know where we would find such materials. Or wood, or flint. I may have to melt down plates.

[He eyed the walls.] Or find a way to pry some metal loose ... beyond that, I shall need a place to make the metal hot enough. My my, this is a lot of work for a glass of wine.

[sinuosity]

[ An unfair bargain. Surely, you jest :') ]

I am content to wait. Wine is easier, finery will take time.

[tallasaking]

[Oh, don't worry. Tyrion likes working on those.]

Well, it might take some time indeed ... and I shall need other things outside of wine. Materials, of course. Tools this place will provide. I shall also have to design them and that will take a lot of personal expertise... let us say that one glass of wine shall garner you an arrow. A very finely made arrow, at that. Once you have tested said arrow for it's quality -- perhaps we can bargain again for more arrows, and more of something else.

[A side-ways glance.] Something that I am sure you are well suited for.

[sinuosity]

I accept. You are of course, welcome to negotiate. I know of much that sharpens a man's mind, as well as that which sends him to hell.

[tallasaking]

I will happily negotiate ... although please, let us avoid hell. I have been there far too many times for my liking.

[sinuosity]

[ The funny thing is, she believes him. There's an air of melancholy, a certain metal. People who get hurt wear armour. ]

And survived? I congratulate you. There're many who would agree to burn.

[tallasaking]

I enjoy life far, far too much to give into Hell alone ... it took a great deal more than that to drag me down that far. And yet - even then ..

[He arched an eyebrow up at her.]

Why burn when you can see where the flame started?

[sinuosity]

[ Wise and witty in a way not many are. Nyssa keeps that to herself -- it's never smart to show all the cards even if it's the truth. That's the nature of shadows. ]

Why indeed. I believe you also owe me a story. Shall we retire? There is a kitchen, and a library.

[tallasaking]

[Ah, the library. This is the second time someone has brought that to his attention -- and he is clearly gleeful about it.] Well I know a gentleman is bringing me food to dine on - let us go to the library. I shall have to look up some volumes on metallurgy for specifics anyways. Not to mention ... ah, the word is tripping on the edge of my lips. Aero-dynamics. Yes.

[sinuosity]

Perhaps on foundries, but we must contain you before you go mad with power.

[ She's teasing, only a little, and turns on her heel, expecting that he'll follow. Nyssa is in no danger from him, she sees no harm in showing her back. Besides, she's a hard person to get the drop on. ]

[tallasaking]

Do you fear I shall go running through the halls with a pointed stick, proclaiming myself king of the spaceship? My, you do think much of my ambition. Or my mental state degrading quickly ... I haven't quite figured that out yet.

[He smirks in kind, following after her at a slower pace. Walking has never been easy for him.]

[sinuosity]

Let us not forget you are the strangest man I have ever met. How am I to know your inclinations?

[ She does not slow down to match him, not openly anyway. ]

[tallasaking]

Oh, my inclinations are fairly clear - watered down wine, pleasant company, good books ... and running about with a pointed stick, naturally.

[Is Tyrion's straight-faced reply. He does find it easier to keep up with her, and gives her a small nod of thanks.]

[sinuosity]

[ Yet, no joke about being King of anything. Only the wise or the tired. Nyssa is neither; she just expects the burden of power and has learnt to wield it. ]

A pointed pen would suit you better. Maybe we should add a battle cry.

[tallasaking]

[Tyrion never wanted to be King of anything - Lord of the Rock, yes, but king? Perish the thought. Forget the fact he is quite effective at ruling in chaos.]

Well, the Lannisters already have one ... rather a family motto. We even have a jaunty tune.

[sinuosity]

I would hear it, if you wouldn't mind.

[tallasaking]

What, the song or the battle cry? Both are rather obnoxious.

[sinuosity]

[ A moment of thought. Then, ]

Both. That's part of the point, isn't it?

[tallasaking]

[Tyrion tipped his head, and then cleared his throat, to say as loudly as he could.] HEAR ME ROAR.

[The sound of that echoed, and seemed almost ... off, as he began to sing softly.]

And who are you, the proud lord said,
that I must bow so low?
Only a cat of a different coat,
that's all the truth I know.
In a coat of gold or a coat of red,
a lion still has claws,
And mine are long and sharp, my lord,
as long and sharp as yours.

And so he spoke, and so he spoke,

that Lord of Castamere,
But now the rains weep o'er his hall,
with no one there to hear.
Yes now the rains weep o'er his hall,
and not a soul to hear....

[sinuosity]

[ It settles, in some empty valley. Nyssa hums the chorus where Tyrion trails off. ]

So, I've a lion on my hands.

[tallasaking]

[Tyrion listens to the last note fade way down the echoing hall, before he turns his gaze back to her.]

The smallest of lions, practically a kitten. [He smiles, his eyes hard.] But the kitten still has claws.

[sinuosity]

Claws are claws, no matter the size.

[ A baby lion is still a goddamn lion. ]

There is value in being underestimated.