001 || video + action

[nedstarksbastard]

Who: Jon Snow and you!
Broadcast: Fleet-wide video, whoops.
Action: Marsiva
When: Present.

[video/action]

[He doesn't feel the fourth knife go in, the cold and the dark already rushing in to claim him. He's not expecting to open his eyes again--he's not really expecting much of anything at all--which makes it a shock when he does. Enough of one, in fact, that the very first thing he does is fall off his cot.

That'll make a great impression on any viewers watching. But right now, Jon Snow doesn't care about that, doesn't know about that, he's looking down at himself in shock--he was stabbed, he remembers that, he remembers the dagger in his belly and in his back and the cold, it had been so cold, but now he's here and it's as though they never were.

He's breathing again. That's--That's also unexpected. Calm down, Snow. You're lucky enough to breathe again.]

Ghost? [It takes him a moment to remember that, right--he left Ghost behind. It feels as if a part of him's been cut off from him, leaving the rest of him adrift and confused. He breathes in, out. All right, he's breathing. He'll deal with the rest of the panic and the rage later, and that growing feeling of being watched, for now he staggers to his feet, clearly still a little dazed, and looks around.] Where am I?

[This is more of a muttered question to himself, rather than one posed to the network, because then he stands up, clearly resolved to do some exploring.]

Comments

[nedstarksbastard]

[Jon's got a reputation for knowing nothing, but the thing is, he's a quick learner, and an observant person as well.]

Where are you, then, if not on the Marsiva?

[A moment's pause, before:] Jon Snow, my lady. [Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, though he's not too sure if it applies now that he's dead. He's pretty sure he's dead, anyway.] Yours?

[percolates]

Call me Ciri. I'm on the First Breath, a smaller ship. There are a number of them. In a few days, you'll be assigned to one.

[She's not sure if she prefers the smaller vessels to the larger one. At least here, she can head down to the station and explore--not that it's done much but keep her from going stir crazy.]

[nedstarksbastard]

So I've a few more days of wandering around here to do. [Which is good, it means he can get his bearings and figure out what to do and where to go from here, get the lay of the land. Or the lay of the Marsiva, as it were.] Though how will I know when I've been assigned to one?

[percolates]

You'll be sent there. Don't worry about that. [There are worse things, such as--] The fleet seems to be crowded, at the moment. Too many people and not enough beds.

[nedstarksbastard]

[He can relate.]

Wherever I'm going, they won't have to worry about me. I can sleep on the floor, I've slept on worse. [A breath.] But if there's too many people, why abduct more? I can't say I see the logic in that.

[percolates]

The galley table doesn't make a bad bed. [And at his question, she shrugs. She's been wondering that as well.]

We're here to be entertainment. Perhaps they'd like to see what happens when where are too many people for one living space. I have yet to hear anyone fighting like dogs, though.

[nedstarksbastard]

[A shrug.] It sounds much better than the floor, in truth.

We're probably disappointing them greatly, if they expect us to provide entertainment. [There's a sardonic emphasis on the last two words. It's no big loss to him, if they're disappointing their kidnappers by managing not to go at each other's throats over living space.

Anyway, a galley table sounds so much better than the cold hard floor.]

[percolates]

Indeed. People here have been kind, if not simply going about their daily lives on these ships. Everyone wants to go home.

[She hasn't seen any struggling or fighting, and that's with little space and no money. The people here are leaving a good impression.]

It's not so bad, here. You'll be all right.