driftfleet | Bobby B

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Bobby B - One

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?

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[ it isn't that sansa's not scared. rather, she's absolutely terrified. the man she sees on the communicator is an absolute brute and a force of nature. but (she reminds herself in a stiff inner voice) he's a brute that's been her father's dearest friend long before turmoil had set into her family's bones.

so she doesn't shrink back from the sight of him, although she's awash with many feelings. pity, chief among them. and vestigial reverence from all the childhood stories she still carries with her in her heart. ]

Your grace. [ he's not the king; tommen is king. and yet she doesn't know what else to call him. as she continues, her voice is small. somehow, she doubts he'll remember her no matter what the colour of her hair. no matter who her father was. ] I can assure you it works well enough.

[ and so has recorded all of his folly so far. ]

Edited 2015-11-26 23:25 (UTC)

[Contrary to a lot of people here, Octavia's only sense of kings and the like-- save the shitty as government on the Ark-- are those of myths and stories she was told when she was small. If someone tells her this guy is (or was) one, she'd likely just laugh at them.

Still, for the moment, he gets a look of incredulity, a small dose of disdain present, too. Because really.]

Are you a complete idiot?

[Hair color was not so much to keep him from recalling the look of Sansa Stark, but a small video on an incomprehensible device made any kind of recognition too difficult by far. Less when Robert was far too distracted by the strange shapes in the night sky to even give the curious video his full attention.]

I see that well enough, girl. [His tone is sharp, save for the tired breathing that is following his violent workout.] What manner of devilry is all this?

A prison, your grace.

[ the sentiment in her voice is skinny -- narrow, and threadbare. she doesn't dare betray too much emotion even in the abstract presence of a westerosi king. ] Of sorts. At least, some describe it as one.

You'll mind your tongue, girl. Your king is speaking.

[He might not fit the traditional image of a king, but he certainly can talk like one. In his tone comes the natural tone of command and condescension that only comes from breeding and a lifetime of privilege.]

I said as much, didn't I? [Tell me more than what I know already. Some softspoken girl is the last thing he needs just now. He has a kingdom to return to and a grand hunt to attend. His courtesy fails him, much as it ever does.]

And who attends this prison? Your master?

[ she bites her tongue. she knows he'd said it; otherwise, she'd not have used the same word. always the bird, chirping and repeating. sansa sucks in a slow breath. ]

They are called the Atroma, although they do not attend us.

[ and they are not my master. ]

There's no damn king in charge here, let alone you.

[She snorts, leaning back, maybe in a small show of defiance.]

And this thing's working just fine. That was a really sad showing you put on.

I've heard of no Atroma. [Robert had not done much reading in his lifetime. If truth be told, the things that he had read in the entirety of his life could likely be enclosed in the space of a dozen pages. But he had still learned his heraldry and knew of every noble house of any significant in the Seven Kingdoms. None were called Atroma, but when it came to those across the Narrow Sea, well...]

What are they? Pentoshi? Braavosi? The sotted bastards. If it's a war they want, by the gods I'll give them one.

[ she breathes a little easier. gods, is she relieved he doesn't seem to recognize her? perhaps -- likely so. sansa tucks a lengthy piece of dark-dyed hair behind her ear. ]

None and neither. I'm afraid we're very far away from anything we've known, your grace.

[ how bizarrely thrilling it is to know more than a king knows. ]

[He snorts derisively. She is most assuredly common. Robert has nothing against commoners, but he can't very well have one speaking to him like this, let alone a woman.]

Have you spent your life under a rock, wench? I am Robert, King of the Seven Kingdoms.

And how far is that, girl? You'll give me an honest answer. Is it Ghiscar? Asshai by the Shadow?

[The uttering of that last one gives him pause. What land could possibly be shadowed as the one he now looks at? There is not even the light of the Moon to illuminate the world and it seemed as though the stars were as much above him as they were below. He had only heard tales of Asshai, but somehow this alien setting seemed as though they might fit the descriptions.]

[Under a floor, but that's irrelevant. She stares at the communicator, almost bored.]

Look Bob, wherever that is, you're not there anymore. There are plenty of people here who won't know or care about that crap. Better get off your high horse before someone yanks you off themselves.

[ gently: ] We sail among the stars.

I would welcome the challenge.

[... not that he's on his horse right now. But this girl was not exceptionally clever, so he saw no reason to dissuade her of that notion. Better that his foes think he's mounted.]

I asked for truth, not songs. Now, tell me again.

[ sansa stark no longer sings songs. but king robert wouldn't know that -- and so she swallows the cracked remnants of her pride. ] Ask anyone else, your grace. They'll tell you much the same.

[ she isn't even offended by this prospect. someone else, she concedes, will be far easier to believe than a silly girl like her. ]

[The video is... well, something. The king would receive something of a perplexed look in response to his whole tirade, and the young man on the other side looked (and sounded) more the stock of a young girl.

It wasn't fear in his voice, though, despite just how loud he roared, how furiously he dented the chair and turned to the screen. More worry for his well-being, and a faintly awkward frankness, really.]

... It works. And it's better if you don't break that glass - there's no air outside the windows.

The stars. If they say the same, what's that to me? Shit remains shit, no matter from which hole it spews. The stars are not the sea and I've seen no sails.

[Harsh, yes. But he's unapologetic. Robert is far too sober to deal with this kind of folly.]

[ odd, isn't it? how she'd thought along much the same lines -- albeit in gentler words. ]

Because we haven't any.

[ dull and to the point. she isn't even trying to be clever, merely informative. ]

[The way Robert laughs darkly at that makes it plain what he thinks about that notion.]

The glass is strong, I'll grant it that. But no air? Nonsense.

Then it makes for a piss poor sail ship. [Nevermind the size of the vessel. King's Landing boasted many of the biggest and strongest galleons on the sea, but none could match the size of this building he had traversed. A building it remained, because he could not comprehend anything of this size being able to move.]

Who are you, girl?

[ her jaw words without words. alayne stone is such a simple answer. her heart thunders and clamors for her to give it far and above the truth. but (and this accounts for her initial silence) she reminds herself that not only is bran present in the fleet, but so is tyrion lannister. some lies are kind, but they're also foolish if they're made clumsily.

the young woman lifts her chin. ] Sansa, your grace. Of House Stark.

[ she wishes she sounded prouder. ]

[Ohhhh lord, this is going to be fun. Qing tilts his head down a little, deferentially. Let's try another approach.]

You're outside of any world, which you can see plainly out that very window. I know how ridiculous it sounds, but it's the reality. You aren't confined to the single ship you're on, though - there are shuttles to travel between them.

[Octavia just rolls her eyes at hm. Jesus, who are they stuck with now.]

Yeah, okay. There's a cafeteria to the other side of the ship. Head over there if you want to stuff your face or anything.

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Bobby B - One

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