01. Oh not this again.

[bullhorned]

Who: Gendry
Broadcast: Nope
Action: SS Golden, Planetside
When: Today and June/July

The Golden

He hadn't been on the Marsiva all that long, but he had been on the vast ship long enough to come to the conclusion he didn't care for it at all. The food was strange and it all reminded him a little too much of the Station, which he'd never really liked all that much in the first place. More than that, he'd noticed how different things were around here. It reminded him of blood granite, though he didn't really mind that part all that much. All that business with Shards had always been an enormous headache equal only to the amount of times he banged his forehead in the tunnels of Troichean Beinn. Still, he hadn't been prepared for being in space. He hadn't figured out how to deal with that, so he'd made the decision not to.

When he arrived on the Golden to fanfare and annoying bits of confetti, the first thing he did was scowl. The second thing he did was find a direction to glare at and then scowl a little bit more. It was not that Gendry was extremely upset, it was just that brooding was something of an art form for him and he was at his best when boiling in sullen silence. All thanks to a bit of a chip in his head, he now knew exactly what he ought to be doing. So after mumbling his greetings to anyone who just so happened to be about to welcome him, he found himself in the engineering room. There were a few tense moments where he tried to grasp exactly what it is he was looking at, why he seemed to know so much about it, and if that was the sort of thing it was worth getting worried about. In the end, he decided that as long as he had valid reasons for hitting, then he might as well get on with it. There was a valve that he could instinctively see needed a great deal of banging, so he did.

Don't Hug Me I'm Scared

By the time the first native had got around to giving him a reassuring hug, Gendry had concluded that he now knew of three worlds he held a deep contempt for, which coincidentally happened to be all of the ones he'd experienced so far. But it was better than the ship, so he simply took extra care to watch that no one got close enough for any unexpected proximity. After spending a few hours wandering about the market area of one of the primary settlements, Gendry had found exactly where he ought to be. He'd found a smithy and after talking up his own experience (he'd apprenticed with dwarves after all!), he'd found himself gainfully employed and under the incredibly misguided idea that he had simply found a new planet to live on, this was how the rest of his life was going to be, and that he'd better just decide to be happy with it because that's simply how it was.

Rather than engineering as he was supposed to be, Gendry spent quite a lot of time making whatever was required of him, though it generally tended to be of the more mundane tool-like variety. When he wasn't working, he was finding places to buy his meals, trekking back to his private treehouse in an attempt to avoid risky hugs, and not actually paying all that much attention to the forests because he'd only just been in a world chock full of magical forests and this one didn't really seem all that exceptional to him.

(ooc: Gendry will just be here and there, trying to start his life entirely over because this is just the sort of thing that tends to happen to him. Find him at a smith, or out shopping, or trying to shoo little native children from trying to hug his leg because why)

Comments

[bullhorned]

Fleabottom. That's why they call it that, on account of all the fleas.

[That's what Bran meant, right?]

[summerschild]

[He's never heard of Fleabottom, but he wastes no time in imagining that it's a far-off distant land full of magic and fleas.]

Is it very far away? My home is.

[bullhorned]

How far from where? Could be any distance from here. People say this ain't even the same world.

[And he'd never really known to think of worlds as a plural until the Drabwurld.]

[summerschild]

I've been traveling up in the stars for a year. To be amongst them is already far enough away from Winterfell.

[He's a little bit bitter, if only because saying "a year" out loud feels more frightening than simply thinking it. It's the first time he's realized how long it's truly been.]

[bullhorned]

I spent two years in the Drabwurld. [He shrugs and rubs the side of his nose.] Didn't bother me none, though. Better'n Fleabottom. Likely better than Winterfell too.

[He'd never been to Winterfell, but none of the Starks had been keen on getting back, so he had to assume they'd all ended up somewhere better.]

This world ain't so bad either.

[summerschild]

Nowhere's better than Winterfell.

[He gives a little frustrated nose twitch, but there's no real vitriol behind his words.]

But it's gone, now.

[bullhorned]

I've heard. [Gone or worse, a place filled with Boltons and Freys.] So how is it your legs are fixed but you're still like that?

[After all, they'd been talking about an angel.]

[summerschild]

They have to get strong, again. Dr. Crusher is helping me.

[But he's still stuck on that first part, and wrinkles his nose.]

How have you heard? You know about Westeros?

[bullhorned]

[He wonders how they're supposed to get strong if he's not even standing up, but this is why Gendry wasn't a health expert. He cynically wondered if this Dr. Crusher (whose name was rather ominous) was simply misleading the boy.]

Because it's where I'm from. I grew up in Fleabottom in King's Landing. It's likely you ain't ever heard of it since it ain't a place any lordling like yourself would ever go.

[summerschild]

[Bran just blinks at him for a few moments, and then-]

You know who I am.

[bullhorned]

[He nods, his expression widening into a grimace.]

Aye. You're a Stark. Wouldn't be talking of Winterfell if you weren't.

[Though that wasn't why he knew.]

[summerschild]

[Instead of confirming the identification, Bran dips his head down, looking nervous.]

You don't know. I could be a stableboy.

[bullhorned]

[He snorts.]

Stableboys don't talk like you do. And if their legs didn't work, no one would care to try and fix them.

[summerschild]

Yes, they would. The Fleet isn't like home. No one cares if you're a lord.

[Mainly, he just stubborn and wants to defend the people who have helped him with his legs.]

[bullhorned]

Might be they are. [He couldn't really argue that. The sharded in the Drabwurld were sometimes unreasonably nice people. He never could fully trust people like that. He was always waiting for the angle.] It makes no matter, you're Bran Stark. You don't remember me, though. No one else does.

[He was after all a bastard. If no one remembered him, then he couldn't really be all that surprised, no matter how much time he might have spent with them.]

[summerschild]

[Confusion manifests as frustration, and Bran wrinkles his face.]

I've never met you.

[bullhorned]

[He offers a shrug, because he honestly just doesn't know enough about this sort of thing to explain it. Forgetfulness wasn't the sort of thing he had any reason to become accustomed to, but he was taking it as simply a given now.]

I remember you, all the same.

[summerschild]

[SQUINTS AT U TBH]

What do you remember about me?

[bullhorned]

[There's a long pause as Gendry gives this some serious thought. At last, he shrugs.]

You couldn't walk.

[Which is... well, that's it, really. He hadn't spent much time with Bran. He hadn't been in the Drabwurld all that long. Probably got whisked off here instead.]

[summerschild]

All of the seven kingdoms knows that.

[bullhorned]

That's about all I know. It ain't like you'd have said, Listen Gendry, here's my life long secret, care to hear about it? [He shakes his head to confirm that no, this did not occur.]

I FORGOT THIS THREAD WASN'T PART OF THE MINGLE SORRY

[summerschild]

[But Bran isn't satisfied. Someone affiliated with King's Landing knows him, and he doesn't know them, and he feels horribly unsafe, even with most of his family a few shouts away.]

You know what happened to Winterfell. [It's lower, and a bit darker.] Do you know what happened to me?

[Because if he does, then they have a Problem.]

[bullhorned]

[He frowns, because as a matter of fact, he has heard what happened to him.]

You don't want to know.

[You dead, kid.]

[summerschild]

I already do.

[Said with the cool collection of a lord.]

I want you to tell me, so I can be sure you're truthful.

[Actually, he just wants to make sure word of his survival hasn't reached anyone outside of his family.]

[bullhorned]

You're dead. [Blunt.] Some traitor sacked your castle and murdered you and your brother.

[Gendry's expression remains muted. This was not from a lack of sympathy, but an unwillingness to actually express it.]