driftfleet | 001 ♛ Video;

Who: Daenerys Targaryen
Broadcast: Fleetwide video.
Action: She can be found on the Hospitality Deck of the Marsiva if anyone wants to find her wandering around.
When: Today!

[Daenerys hadn't even had fortnight to settle in, to take in the situation she's found herself in. One moment she was in the almost safety of Drogon's company and the next she was surrounded by Dothraki. Now? She was.... looking at a strange speaking device? She learned enough that people could communicate with it, but not enough right away on how to do so herself. It takes her a moment to figure it out and when she finally does, her violet eyes are still wide with concern on the video feed. Once she realizes it's working, she tries to go for a more calm and assertive outward appearance.]

To think that such a place would be capable of stealing so many from their homes. I can't imagine the ransom they'd be seeking. I wish to speak to whoever thought it wise to attempt such a feat and if any others can provide valuable information, mayhap you'll receive a reward from me in return.

[Mostly her eternal gratitude, given that she had little else on her person in the way of money. Carefully, she tucks a stray silver lock behind her ear. She wanted to ask where Drogon was and yet she knew outright asking her captors where they'd taken her dragon might be too foolish of a thing to attempt.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Unfortunately, there isn't a ransom offered.

[But people have been talking to her, so she knows the basics, hopefully. So, instead:]

Are you all right? I'll answer any questions you have.

[He's twenty-one, but he looks far older-- hair going grey in areas, scars both new and old along his neck, scattered across his face. He smiles, though, and his gaze is friendly, if not tired.]

They hold us hostage with nothing more to gain but their own entertainment. So I've heard the right of it on that account?

[She's actually touched a stranger wants to help her. She wasn't expecting much in the way of help let alone concern.]

I don't suppose you know where things we are missing from home might be kept? I'm missing something important to me. It should have been with me when I arrived.

[Drogon was more than a 'something' to her. He was her child, born of fire and raised up by her with his brothers. However, she wasn't about to tell a stranger that she possessed something so powerful, kind or no.]

As far as I know, if you don't have it on your person, it won't be found. My friend left something rather important at home. There's always the chance of getting it back from-- you know-- being entertaining, or you can try to make it, but--

Sorry.

[He does look sorry, too, though he knows better enough than to ask what it is she's missing.]

My name is Remus Lupin.

What I'm missing would be incredibly hard to replicate. It's one of a kind where I'm from.

[Which is why it's such a big deal that she has three of them when dragons haven't been seen for thousands of years.]

There's no need to apologize for something you had no hand in.

[But she can offer him her name, since he's given her his.]

Daenerys of House Targaryen. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.

[.... she will just skip the lengthy titles for now.]

[That's a mouthful. Daenerys, he'll have to practice saying that a few times.]

I . . . can't promise you anything, as I don't know the nature of what it is you're missing, or, indeed, if I could even come close to replicating it. But if you'd like to try, once you get off the Marsiva-- I'm a wizard, you see, magic comes quite easily to me. I could give it a go.

[A wizard he says. The last time she trusted anyone who could weild power like that - she'd killed her unborn child and left her husband a husk of his former glory. She wasn't a fool to think that he would do something awful to her in exchange for Drogon, and yet she knew better than to meddle with such things.]

I'm sorry but... I can't accept an offer like that. Thank you for the offer. I do think you mean well but it's just- such a thing might come with too heavy a price if your magic is anything like the magic I have seen in my life.

It won't. I mean, I don't-- you don't have to accept, I understand, but-- I'm not about to start charging for something I'm glad to do.

I don't mean coin. I'm sorry... the only magic I am familiar with is evil. I can't- I'm sure you don't do such things, maybe where you come from magic is different, but not for me.

[Oh. Oh. His expression is sympathetic, and he nods.]

Then I hardly blame you, if that's what you've been exposed to. I'd hate it myself, if I-- if that was all I knew. I do hate the Darker arts, frankly, but--

Anyway. I'm sorry.

Please don't- you don't have to apologize. You aren't the one who exposed me to it.

[It was her own fault for trusting the wrong person. She went from trying to save her husband to losing him and their unborn child.]

I learned a valuable lesson not to trust magic of that sort again. It has nothing to do with you so there's nothing to feel guilt about.

Well.

[He still feels awfully awkward, wishing he hadn't brought it up-- but even he knows when to move on.]

In any case: is there anything else I can help you with? Non-magically?

I've been told why we're here and the like, but I suppose you could tell me more? What are we supposed to do to entertain these people?

[Because honestly she's kind of lost on that. She doesn't know what to do but to be herself.]

So far as I understand it, it's the things that people gossip about that earns the most money. Things like-- arguments, or sex, or fights. Anything interesting, anything people might like to talk about. Does that make sense?

So... brothels and fighting pits then.

[She's being sarcastic, but that might very well be true if what he says is accurate.]

Not quite that dire, not yet, but that's sort of the idea. I think there was a lot of fuss over a blender last month, actually. Er-- that's a kind of kitchen device that mashes things together.

I... see. And people fought over it?

[So basically Atroma just likes to make people argue and bicker like chldren over inanimate objects. Gotcha.]

Bickered, I think, would be my verb of choice, but-- yes. More or less. There's not a lot to do, and one of them is an idiot and one's a child, so . . .

That isn't very nice. I know plenty of smart children.

[She's smiling, though because honestly it sounded silly the more she tried to picture it.]

Oh, she's not unintelligent-- quite the opposite-- but she's still a child, and I hardly expect her to act anything but. Which means rather a lot of absurdness.

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