it's a mingle, a paisley mingle

[timelapsed]

Who: Paisley crew and/or visitors and/or Chloe
Broadcast: N/A
Action: The Paisley
When: Anytime in March p much

[ Welcome to the Paisley, where the drama's made up and the points don't matter ]

Comments

ota

[reek]

[ It's taken a few weeks, but really, Theon is much more tolerable now that the shock has worn off. If anything, at least the rate at which he's digging his own grave has slowed. He's turned his frustrations away from his crewmates and focused them on other things instead, like harassing Jon Snow on the Three Twins.

And also by testing out the weapons in the armory. It is part of his job, after all.

Theon is an excellent marksman (not merely by his own admission; it's actually one of his few talents), but Westeros is not advanced enough for guns. He'd never seen anything more than a blade and a bow before his time in the fleet, yet he seems to instinctively know how the Paisley's weaponry works. At long last, his curiosity has gotten the better of him. He has the armory to himself and a target set up. Please, come find the man who shouldn't have guns testing them out. ]

ota

[complicatedliar]

[After hearing some interesting sounds from the armory, Loki wanders by. Watching someone hurt themselves is always good for a laugh.]

Are you pointing that in the correct direction?

[reek]

[ Theon does recognize Loki as a responder to his accidental broadcast with Jon, but he doesn't seem particularly bothered by the sudden company. He has the opportunity to show off now, and what better way to show that he has an actual use around here?

He merely smirks, turns, and fires once at his target. Thank gods he got it right and has lived to see another day. ]

Surely you wouldn't rather I have it pointed toward you.

[ No, Theon, getting hurt is your thing. ]

[complicatedliar]

I wouldn't be particularly worried. [He has all of his magics, now, and he's read. He hasn't just been sent through a rift in space-time.]

[reek]

And why not? You can see my aim for yourself.

[ He tips his head toward the target. He hasn't done too badly for himself, especially considering how different a gun feels compared to the fluid motion of a bow. Magic isn't really something he's learned to take into consideration just yet, even if the captain he hates so much is a sorceress. ]

[complicatedliar]

[Just in case, he leaves an illusion of himself to speak with Theon and moves invisibly a few paces into a safe area.]

Because I am a god and you are but a mortal. [It's so cute when you try.]

[reek]

[ And of course, Theon doesn't suspect a thing. But he is smart enough to assume that shooting someone will earn him no favors with the few people in the fleet who don't already hate him, so that isn't even a thought in his mind. ]

Oh, really? [ He laughs, more out of disbelief than amusement. ] If you're a god, why are you held here with the rest of us?

[ Don't you have some sacrifices to deal with or something? ]

[complicatedliar]

Even gods may be bound, or die. [He shrugs.] I've killed a few in my day, I'd know.

[reek]

I'm sure you have. If you're bound here, you can't be a god worth anyone's time as far as I'm concerned.

[ That smug smile. Theon, no. ]

[complicatedliar]

[He's not about to take this sort of nonsense from any mortal, particularly not a whelp like this one.

The illusion stays where it's at, eyebrows arching up as if to say, did you really just let those words fall from your speech hole? while Loki himself, invisible and silent, teleports behind Theon.

An unnaturally strong hand wraps around the back of Theon's neck and lefts. With the other hand, Loki draws a knife from some other plane and presses the point just under Theon's left ear, lightly enough to not yet draw blood.]

The very funny thing about my being here is that you are bound in this space with me as well.

[Still leaning against the wall, the illusion of Loki smiles cheerfully and waves.]

[reek]

[ Here we go again. Theon's smile doesn't disappear, but rather locks into something of a grimace instead. He's absolutely still, because he actually knows better. You don't make any rash moves when you're the one with the knife pressed against your throat.

At least it isn't Robb making good on his promise to behead me. ]

A fine illusion.

[ Even in this precarious situation, he still manages a chuckle, although not a particularly jolly one. With it being thrust upon him so suddenly and so rudely, magic is something he absolutely does not trust. He keeps a wary stare on the illusion out of the corner of his eye, but keeps himself very aware of the other Loki behind him. ]

Not sure why I need to be bound here with you. Looks like you have yourself to keep you company.

THEON WHY

[complicatedliar]

You needn't be bound on this ship with me at all. [Such a conversational, cheerful tone.] Shall we take a walk to the airlock, little mortal? I guarantee that you will enjoy the vacuum outside far less than I.

[He survived vacuum and a black hole, and then worse things on the other side. Absolute confidence here.]

BECAUSE HE LIKES DIGGING HIS OWN GRAVE

[reek]

[ Theon hasn't quite been well acquainted with the airlock by name, but he thinks he understands and that certainly does sound like a mighty threat.

Doesn't stop him from laughing again, though. It's always been his instinctive defense. Why show fear or panic when you can just laugh instead? ]

Try it. [ Another teeth-gritting smile accompanies that dare. ] See how they feel about you afterwards. God or not, you've said it yourself: you're just as killable as the rest of us.

OH LAWD

[complicatedliar]

[Loki's voice drops to a soft, terribly intimate whisper.]

Ah, but this is the secret we both know, isn't it--that these fools here are soft. They can be angry, and they can hate, but none of them has liver enough to kill.

[The knife moves delicately, flat of it tracing the curve of Theon's chin like the touch of a very, very cold finger.]

You've staked your pretty skin on that already, little mortal, many a time. I can smell it on you. That desperation. You puff up like an angry cat and hiss to hide the mewling that lies beneath. Poor little mortal and your insignificant life, which you can only defend by hiding behind the skirts of another.

[He inhales as if scenting something on Theon.] How does it feel, to know your skin is only worth as much as the leather I could make from it, and you are but coin with which others buy that which they actually want.

[reek]

[ It's the truth. It takes something horrible, twisted and black to make a man desperate enough to want to kill. Theon's felt it himself, and he doesn't want to feel it again.

He squares his jaw and grits his teeth more tightly. He angles his head ever so slightly away from the cold touch of the knife, but knowing that the cracks are beginning to show in his carefully constructed armor is more mortifying than any blade. If this man and Tyrion Lannister can see through him so easily, who will see the true Theon Greyjoy next? ]

Enough.

[ His anger is enough to keep some semblance of forcefulness in his voice, but there is a slight tone of desperation underneath it all. Threats are one thing, but being forced to face the truth is another. What he really wants is for Loki to stop talking. ]

Stand down. They should cut your tongue out instead.

[ See, it's ironic because Theon can't stop talking either. ]

[complicatedliar]

[He laughs softly in Theon's ear.]

Hiss, little cat. Hiss. You've soft teeth and no bite for all that noise.

Dream of cutting out my tongue, but the words will remain, imprinted in the shriveled, quailing pip that you so loudly proclaim is a heart. You are hollow, just like your protestations.

[reek]

I said enough.

[ He hisses his words, trying to put all his malice into them without even realizing that he's only playing into the spitting cat comparison. ]

I won't need to dream of it. I'll cut out your tongue myself here and now if it will stop your insipid talking.

[ Threats without action. He still hasn't decided how he wants to get himself out of this. ]

[complicatedliar]

[A soft chuckle.]

Oho, it thinks it has teeth. [So cute. He gives Theon a little shake as if to remind him, oh you silly little thing, your feet don't even touch the ground right now.] Go ahead. I'll wait.

[He'd be tempted to lick Theon, really, but ugh, humans. You don't know where these things have been.]

[reek]

[ It's true, this is a precarious position. There's a lot Theon can say, but not necessarily much he can do.

What he can do is roll his eyes and force out a huff of a laugh. He can do a whole lot of that. So long as no one is licking him, he's fine. ]

You've demoted yourself to waiting? Have you spewed all the words you can?

[ Dig that grave deeper, Theon. ]

[complicatedliar]

Oh Theon, Theon, Theon. No matter how you shout, you shan't change the fact that I have seen how empty you are inside.

But you are right. I do have better things to do with my time.

[He slams Theon against the wall and pins him with one arm, still holding him off the ground, elbow threatening the windpipe. He nimbly rolls his grip on the dagger and then brings it in close toward Theon's eye.]

A wise man would hold still. As you aren't wise, decide how badly you wish your face to bleed.

[He's a delicate enough touch that he won't cut Theon if he doesn't want to--and he doesn't currently. What he does want to do it shave Theon's left eyebrow off.]

[stefanged]

[It's not hard to figure out where the sound of gunshots are coming from. Stefan should seriously know better, and yet, he's leaning against the door frame and trying to discern whether or not he should stick around.]

Preparing for the worst?

[reek]

[ Theon's aim is good, but the sound. He dislikes the sound. Lines of frustration form on his face with every shot he takes, whether he hits his target or not. Another shot and his ears are ringing, and that's more than enough incentive for him to stop and turn to speak to Stefan.]

Preparing for whatever may come.

[ He regards the gun with a look of contempt as he sets it down. ]

How do you even concentrate with the noise?

[stefanged]

I didn't. [He folds his arm, glancing around for those noise-cancelling headphones he swore Jason had left in here...] Until you and Raylene got here, we didn't have an armory.

The old security guy should've left a pair of headphones. They'll help muffle the noise, especially since you're up close and personal with it.

[reek]

[ Theon's response is a huff and a shake of his head. He doesn't want headphones (whatever those may be) or anything else to cancel out the noise. What he wants is the old and familiar. ]

The people of my house are renown for their skill with a bow. [ Things left unsaid but he assumes to be obvious enough: "Including me." ] Quiet, but deadly all the same. Your ears are left open to listen on what's happening around you. If the enemy tries to sneak up on you, you can get him before he gets you.

[stefanged]

Right. That would work fine if we were planet-side, but we've been attacked by enemy fleets in the middle of nowhere.

A bow doesn't do as much when you're trying to hit another ship. [At least, Stefan would assume so.] But if you wait until we hit the next planet, maybe they'll have your bow and arrows.