driftfleet | Bobby B

Who: Robert Baratheon
Broadcast: Fleetwide video.
Action: The Marsiva
When: Soon.

[The camera catches view of a man who is as thick as he is tall standing in front of the massive windows that separate the safety of the Marsiva from the inhospitable void of space on the other side of it. For many, this would be a breathtaking view of the cosmos. The King saw it only as a nuisance. Dressed in rich silk and velvet with a antlered crown on his head, Robert Baratheon was no man to be toyed with and he was eager to be free, even if he could not fully comprehend what he was seeing. He had never been a learned man and the concept of space itself was so far beyond his sphere of experience. He saw nothing but a night sky and though he could not see the ground, that only posed a problem to be solved later.

Later meaning after he had broken through the glass with a chair that he had caused significant damage to by beating it repeatedly against the window. With each thrust he roared in something between fury and excitement.]

That's right! Try and cage me, you bastards! Do you think this metal prison can hold me? Come now! Have at me!

[Yet for all his bravado and effort, the window did not even crack. Besides that, he was not so fit as he was in his youth. Winded and exhausted, he eventually righted the dented chair so he could sit on it instead. Only then did he turn his attention back to the communicator. He could not say why or how, but he understood that it was meant for communicating. He twisted in his hands a few times before deciding to play the fool and speak into it.]

...well? Does this damned bloody thing work or not?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ That was a valiant effort in trying to break the window, but to no avail. Probably for the best, though all of the viewers would have certainly been in for a twist. If there were even viewers at this point.

This man certainly has a lot of gusto. Or ego. Possibly and most certainly both. Winter really does debate upon even saying anything, but it's too damn cold on the Heron, and it passes the time. The feed is darker, but when it does switch on, the video will show him from the shoulders up, looking a little concerned. ]

It works well enough..

I've gathered as much. [Short and impatient. Robert is not in the mood for making light conversation just now.] There's a bloody lot of you on these blasted things. Yet I've not seen hide nor hair of you but for these moving pictures.

The ships floating nearby-- we are on those. You'll be assigned to one before too long.

[ He can be just as short with words if he wants to. ]

Ships? You mean those wretched looking things out there? [He squints at one now. There was no convenient way of gauging distance from here. It was all black, stars, and metal ships floating listlessly through space.]

Why?

It's where the Atroma put us. [ That's...honestly all he can offer. None of this really has purpose. ]

Is that the best answer you besotted lot can manage?

[He's heard it already from plenty more. Always the Atroma and never with reason or rhyme.]

They tell us that we're being watched. Entertainment for..out there.

[ He nods toward the blackness of space. ]

No one has seen them except over the video feeds.

[Well, he understands that enough.]

Do they take me for some mummer? If it's entertainment they wish, they should come to me in person. See if they laugh when I'm drinking my wine from their skulls.

Somehow I don't think they will.

[ What the hell is a mummer? ]

No. Of course not. [A snort.] They'd piss their britches before coming at me for a fair fight. Craven bastards.

I think you may have to get in line for the chance at a fight with them.

Why should I wait if the bastard up front hasn't taken a blow yet?

Then it's just as well you be the tactical fall.

"Tactical fall?" I don't take your meaning.

Someone has to be a casualty before a war can start.

[ You can be the cannon fodder, bro. ]

Do you think me afraid to charge into battle? I've led the charge into dozens of battle, great and small. Aye, I've bled in them as well.

[He might not look it now, but Robert was an inspiring figure once. A Lord Paramount, young and strong, who rode at the front of his armies and fought side by side with his men.]

I don't think you're afraid, at all.

[ Just foolish. ]

Then you have some sense to you. [Little enough, Robert thinks.]

What little you've been shown.

[ It's not an advantage showing someone everything right off the bat. ]

Very little. [Few here truly seem to display much in the way of Westerosi wisdom.]

Perhaps no one will live up to your ideals.

[That gives Robert a chuckle.]

No, no they won't. If they lived up to my ideals, they would all by women with enormous tits, supple and naked, and all wriggling to be next to me. [He snorts out another laugh at that.] Piss on ideals. I would be content with just some wine instead.

You're going to be disappointed on both accounts. The liquor we have access to is terrible.

Shame that. But I've drank in the poorest and filthiest of alehouses. Any drink will do, if you've had enough of it.

If people like you, the 'ratings' go up, which means you'll get money to spend. Unless someone's willing to give things to you.

[ He shrugs. ]

video;;

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