driftfleet | first one to make that doctor who joke loses

[one: did you know that you're toxic]

[Who's surprised that the first mask that Jon opts for is this black mask? No one, that's who. It's kind of boringly plain, but then again, it's black--that was probably part of the appeal to Jon. Well, that and the part where he won't fall sick if he wears it around when outside of the ship. That's also a large part of the appeal here.

One of the first things Jon does is go shopping--or, in this case, haggling, and thus proving Stannis Baratheon's suspicions about his ability to haggle like a fishwife right, because once you've had to strike a bargain with a king, bargaining with merchants is a cake walk.

Okay, more like a walk on top of the Wall, but--at least there's no risk of slipping from a great height. Soon enough Jon's got a small bag full of these prizes he's won, varying in quality from "pretty good" to "why the fuck did you buy that, you've been robbed", and he's feeling pretty good about himself. He even got his family some gifts they might like--"lemoncakes" (quotes necessary) for Sansa, treats for Bran's fox and a stuffed toy for Bran himself, and a strategy game for Robb.

Yeah, so far, things are looking up for Jon.

That's not going to last for long.]

[two: war, what is it good for?]

This is yours, isn't it--

[The question is barely out of his mouth before he suddenly gets tugged into a war game. It's a misnomer, in his opinion, because much of the games he finds himself dragged into--whether because there's a lack of players or some other reason--feels more like a training bout than an actual fight, but unlike some people he keeps that little observation to himself.

Instead, he plays. Whether it's paintball or tug-of-war or racing or something else entirely, and by the end of the week Jon's lost count of how many war games he's gotten swept up into, whether as an unwitting participant, a willing participant (later on in the week when he really gets into it) or--let's be real here--because his patience ran out with somebody and he got a bit too rough.

Either way, there's two ways this can go, depending on where you are:

A. If you happen to be on the same side, he's actually quite helpful--pointing out weak spots, giving advice, even watching your back, as if he's had experience in the training yard before. Who knows, you might even bond with the guy a little.

or: B. If you happen to be on opposite sides, though, he's not about to take any prisoners. Hope you're up for some friendly competition, folks--or not so friendly, depending. (Looking at you, Greyjoy.)]

[three: tell the world i'm coming home--or back to the ship]

[Occasionally, Jon ducks back into the ship--to eat, sleep, or just take a break from needing to have a mask on most times. Clearly, this is the best place to bother him.]

[four: wild card!]

[Want to run into Jon somewhere other than the market or a game? You're in luck--he's exploring the moon anyway, so he's available for any and all shenanigans!]

JON,

If I visited the moon below, would you be my escort? I cannot go alone.

YOUR SISTER,
Sansa

[Sister. Jon may be making a small, strangled noise right now. It's all he ever wanted.]

Of course. When do you want us to meet?

Are you free now? But I do not want you to feel rushed.

Yes, I've more than enough time to spare. [And he's still in that phase where he's just a little bit floored that she wants to spend time with him, so he feels anything but rushed.] I'll meet you outside your ship. [Laden with baked goods.]

[Robb grins from ear to ear, thoroughly excited to take Jon on in a game of paintball. He had waited for his brother to appear, eager to prove to him that, despite all the time that has passed, he is still the best at things like this.

He has pressed himself against a tree, keeping an eye out for what is happening around him. He had planned to take Jon unawares. Pop up the moment his brother would never expect it.

And it seems that that moment is almost there...]

[Jon loves his brother. Truly, he does. He's missed him so very, very much.

...that doesn't mean he's going to go easy on him, oh, no. Jon's going all-out on this one, wearing greys and dark greens to better blend in with his surroundings, and he's just looking for a flash of red, creeping along with the paintball gun. He's gotten very, very good at handling it in the short time he's had it.

Come out, come out, wherever you are, Stark.]

[Robb is definitely not planning to give his brother the benefit of the doubt even after all that time. Jon is not one he should underestimate.

Even though he has not camouflaged himself properly he remains low as he steps away from the tree. And then the brilliant idea hits him that he should climb it. If Jon would have planned to take him unawares he would have been able to do that before his brother could strike. After a quick scan of his surroundings he starts to climb the tree.

He is in no way a climber like Bran used to be but he moves as quick as he can, the gun tucked inside his pants.]

[Oh, hey, there's Robb. Climbing a tree, aww.

Jon is going to knock him down with a paintball. He ducks behind another tree, taking care to keep as quiet as possible (probably not a very successful attempt), and takes aim.

He waits a few more moments, letting Robb climb just a little bit higher, before he pulls the trigger.]

[Robb makes haste, very aware of his vulnerable position. His brother might as well be hiding and taking aim at that same moment.

He stiffens when he hears something close by. A twig snapping, some rustling. No, this isn’t the best idea that ever sprouted from Robb Stark’s head but maybe he could turn this into an advantage for himself.]

I hear you, Jon.

[It is a soft whisper and he is not sure if his brother can hear it but he manages to jump down again right before the paint explodes just above his head.

Still, the landing could’ve been more graceful. It is never pleasant to land on his ass.]

Missed me!

[After those words he ducks down and reaches for his gun, grinning broadly.]

You need to do better, Jon!

[Nah, Jon doesn't hear it--he's not so near as to be able to--but he does see Robb jumping down before the paint hits, and it takes Jon all his will to hold in a particularly venomous curse.

Seven hells.

Right. As much as he wants to yell back, staying silent and keeping the element of surprise on his side is his best bet of getting out of here unscathed, so he ducks behind a tree, mentally berating himself all the while, and takes stock of his surroundings.

Trees. There's a lot of trees around, he can use those as cover. Do better, Jon, Robb had said. Of course he'll do better, he has to if he plans on winning this.]

[Robb stays low now, his heart beating fast with some silly sort of anticipation. It almost feels as if they’re at Winterfell and everything is perfectly normal. Okay, except for the ships and space and these paint-ball-guns. He figures Jon would hide behind one of those trees. It is what he would do as well but gods which one? And how to draw his brother out?

Finally Robb finds himself crawling on his stomach through the tall grass to find shelter behind a fallen tree. After that he moves to a squat, the barrel of the paint gun resting on the trunk of the tree.]

It is just like at Winterfell, isn’t it, Jon?!

[Robb trusts his evading and ducking skills enough to give his position away. If only to draw Jon out. All he needs is a dot of dark hair and a long, frowny face.]

[Ahsoka picks up her two practice sabers and ignites them, posture crouched and ready, grinning from ear to ear. Of course, the grin isn't so visible under her mask, but you can hear it in her voice-- equal parts competitive and playful.]

I think you're about to find out.

[The two practice sabers themselves are just that-- for practice. They won't cut much of anything, but they'll leave a light burn if they make contact with skin or cloth. To Jon, they would look nothing like anything he would be familiar with from Westeros-- rather, they don't look much like a blade at all, but rather a long glowing band of white light that hums faintly with energy. They don't seem to be heavy in the slightest-- rather, light enough that Ahsoka can easily wield one with each hand. From her opening stance-- one held in front of her in the reverse grip, one held behind her and above her head in the forward grip-- it's clear she favours using the shorter, forward saber for defense and the other, longer saber for offense.

Her arm muscles are all apparent as she tenses, ready. But for all her training, Ahsoka is still small and slight. A seasoned fighter like Jon might recognise that two small blades rather than one heavy one is a good strategy for one so small, so she can capitalise on speed-- dart in and out, rather than letting herself get caught up in a battle of strength.

Still, she seems confident.]

[Oh.

Well, clearly this was a terrible idea, but Jon's a bit too surprised by the practice sabers for that thought to register, stepping back when they ignite with a hum. They don't look like anything he's used to--and he finds his sword hand dropping to where he would usually keep Longclaw, fingers curling around nothing--but he recovers quickly enough.

Smart girl, going for speed over strength. First thing he'll have to do is disarm her of one, block or dodge the other and go for a hit. It'd be so much easier if he had a weapon with him, but as things stand she's got the advantage. Not for long, anyway--someone in the growing crowd tosses something to him to make things fair, and Jon catches it, holds it ready in a two-handed grip with the ease of someone who's used to fighting with the weight of a bastard sword.

The foam bat's not as heavy as he's used to, certainly can't replace the feel of steel in his grip. Not only that, but he'll have to compensate for the lighter weight, which is going to be a bit difficult. Still, in something like this, like a training bout, it'll do.

He steps closer, as if just waiting for Ahsoka to strike first. She's an unfamiliar opponent wielding unfamiliar weapons, to rush on towards her unthinkingly would mean an easy loss. He's not about to give her that much, for as much as he likes her.]

[Ahsoka grins and darts in just once-- a quick strike and an equally quick retreat. It's a taunt, or a test. It's the move of someone trying to gauge their opponent's reflexes, their skill-- or how easy or difficult she should go on him.

It's familiar to sword fighting, but there's one small difference John might immediately notice-- neither her sabers nor John's bat have edges. They're round. Meaning there's less concern with regard to the angle of the blade-- a hit from any angle will render the same result.]

[He brings the bat up easily, blocking the strike in time. A test, he thinks--Ahsoka's just as unsure of him as he is of her, he figures they'll be feeling each other out for a bit. At least he knows now how quick she is, perhaps quicker than he is. This might come down to a test of speed.

He rushes in now for a quick blow, more glancing than a full hit, more testing the waters. He makes sure to retreat as well before those sabers can lash out and score a hit on him, feet quick and sure. Underneath his mask, he's smiling.

It's been a while since he sparred with someone just for the fun of it.]

Holding back, are we? [Hypocrite. But there's a light, teasing note to it, beyond the challenge.]

[She blocks Jon's first test strike easily, moving with a natural grace and grinning under her mask as well.]

You wouldn't want to see me go all out.

[Teasing and banter during a fight is par for the course where she's from, so she's glad Jon's on the same wavelength.

Without much warning, she launches another test strike-- this time a two-fer, going in with her short blade first and then her long one a second later in a follow-up.]

[The part of Jon that's been helping train green recruits of the Night's Watch is incredibly impressed--there's a fluidity to her movements that speaks to experience, that makes him think that this won't be such an easy fight for him either, even if she is holding back. She does have the advantage, though, her weapons seem much more familiar to her than this foam bat is to him.

Not for the first time, he sort of wishes he had Longclaw with him. Or at least a real sword.]

Something tells me I could manage.

[You know nothing, Jon Snow. All right, he's kidding, mostly--he really just wants to see what she fights like when she isn't gauging her opponent. Maybe he might even learn from this.

He dodges the first blow, ducking underneath the shorter blade before bringing the bat up in both hands to meet the second, longer blade, parrying off the attack so he can move away. All right, he thinks, first thing he'll have to do is to disarm her of one saber so he can last a few minutes more.]

Hmmm.

[The noise she makes is noncommittal as she holds both sabers at the ready, circling. She seems to be waiting this time-- interested to see what Jon will do when given the opportunity to strike first.]

Sansa said you're some kind of guardian back on your planet. I don't believe that's all you've got.

I'm not the only one--has she told you of the Night's Watch yet? [Some guardians they made, he thinks. Some guardian he was.] And you'd be right.

[He closes in this time, aiming a blow at the arm holding the longer blade to try and disarm her. If he succeeds, he'll move in to grab her other arm so he can hold the bat at her neck. If he fails, he'll move quickly out of her range, hopefully before she can hit him.

Either way, it's probably fairly obvious that while he's doing well, he's still much more used to wielding something heavier, and the weight difference could be enough to throw his blows off, something he's doing his best to compensate for. Something he knows could very well cost him the fight, if he doesn't play this right.]

Not much. What is it?

[Ahsoka brings both blades up to block this time in the form of an "X", crossing one of the other in front of her face and catching the blow in between them.]

You're used to fighting with a heavier weapon, aren't you?

We're an order--[we, he says, even if he wonders sometimes if he's still part of the Night's Watch, if he's here and--not there, is all he'll let himself think about it]--sworn to guard the realms of men. With our lives, if necessary.

[I am the watcher on the walls. The oath echoes back to him, the vow he made almost a lifetime ago, when he thinks about it now. Gods, he'd been so green.

She catches the blow, crossing her blades to block the bat, and Jon thinks, well, she's got him there.]

Aye, but I can manage well enough with this. [They're close enough now that he could aim a kick at her leg--which he does. It's completely unfair and definitely something he would've pulled on some poor recruit in the yard, the shit.]

Huh. Sounds an awful lot like the Jedi.

[Ahsoka can sense what he's going to do a split second before he does it-- not fast enough to get out of the way, but fast enough to control her reaction. Instead of being taken by surprise, she folds with the kick smoothly, like an almost choreographed dance move. Rolling away backwards and then springing up again in one quick motion.]

Someone doesn't like to play by the rules. [She isn't mad, though. If anything, there's a mischievous, amused note in her voice.] You'll have to be faster than that though, if you want to take me by surprise.

Tell me about the Jedi, and I'll tell you about the Night's Watch?

[That's definitely not something any of the recruits he's ever trained has pulled, and the part of him that's done so for a while is impressed.]

There's not much room for rules when someone's trying to kill you. [But there's a (somewhat disturbingly, seriously Jon?) light note to his voice, as he shrugs, and one hand drops away from the bat.] Very well, since you asked-- [No sooner has the last word come out of his mouth than he's already sprinting forward, feinting to the left before he pivots and swings the bat towards her right arm, aiming to disarm.]

The Jedi are peacekeepers. Guardians of justice, defenders of those who can't defend themselves. Or-- that's what they're supposed to be, anyway.

[It's a little more complicated than that now. Unfortunately, growing up means having your naive ideals shattered.

Ahsoka entertains Jon's swing, meeting it head on. She seems to have little problem fighting and talking-- indeed, she seems to be enjoying herself. Now that she's got the measure of Jon's strength and swing, she stops darting in and out-- no more one-for-one exchange of polite testing blows with breathers in between. Now is the time for dancing. Ahsoka goes hard, trying to settle into a rhythm between them.]

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nedstarksbastard - 2016-04-29 11:34 (UTC) - Expand

first one to make that doctor who joke loses

Jon Snow | OTA

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late tag is late but war games

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first one to make that doctor who joke loses

Jon Snow | OTA

text » wildcard

text »

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text »

late tag is late but war games

CACKLES

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