Ser Gendry Waters (
bullhorned) wrote in
driftfleet2016-06-25 07:17 pm
Entry tags:
01. Oh not this again.
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)
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)

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Gendry's questions come, though, and Hermione hesitates before she shakes her head. She doesn't want this to end up hurting him, but it's not as though she can lie; she could, literally speaking, but she had never been particularly good at it, too shrill and nervous when lying was the only option.
"She went home, and there was some problems with Robb being there, since it was Seelie aligned and he was Unseelie. He ended up losing his shard and coming to stay with me, and I helped him find a place in Treun. After that there was... A power struggle? I'm not entirely sure what happened, it was never really my area, but I think Ser Loras ended up being the leader in place of Sansa."
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"I ought to have been there. I left not long after the city was attacked. I could've stayed there, been a Shield of Cothromach. But I chose this instead." He lifted the hammer he had set aside, feeling the weight of its burden. "I left for some underground city. A half dozen times, I thought of just letting them take my shard and be done with it." He snorted and shook his head. "You know, Master Bordan had me working on this gate. The Doorway to Beyond. I was making a bleeding way home, but didn't ever think a second of actually wanting to walk through it."
Stupidity. It's all he could think to describe of his actions and the year he spent away from the people he'd called his friends. And all it had bought him was this place, friendless and unable to use any of the skills he had spent so long learning. He'd gone from forging elaborate weapons of war to making shovels.
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"There was a way to go home. Not long before I ended up coming here the shards were drawn back together and the dwarves attacked with mechanical monsters. A group called the Red Hand stole all the shards the Unseelie and the Seelie were keeping and performed a ritual to rejoin them, and they created a huge mountain. When it was all done we were all able to visit our homes and... And we could stay there, too, if we wanted. I didn't want to go home - it wasn't home anymore."
Hermione's hands drop away and she shakes her head, feeling lost and uncertain.
"And now I'm here, and - and nothing really feels as important anymore."
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"Might be it was all some big jape. A game played by those fairy lords. Why else cast us off here? What use was any of it?"
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"But - I don't think Solais or Morla sent us here. If they did we'd still have our shards, and - well, I don't have mine."
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After he nearly got himself murdered by Reynard, he'd done very little to involve himself in the conflict between the courts. He'd secured himself away in Troichean Beinn to avoid being caught in the crossfire of all that. It was hard to imagine why she would want to be wrapped up in all of that.
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"I was able to do some good in the world. I could help people, and I could give them tasks and offer them rewards that were useful to them - and I could be there, too, when the worst came about and there was a battle or a war. That's what made it worthwhile."
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"Hm. Still here, though. Was it worth it?"
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Hesitating, she turns her head back to Gendry before she swallows.
"Are you - are you okay with the fact that Sansa doesn't remember?"
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"It makes no matter," he said. "Someone else decided whether she'd know. They chose this."
That was how things were. Gendry was not opposed to defying the established order, but it took quite a bit to sweep him up into it. In this instance, he didn't see the point.
no subject
"You're right. We just have to try and manage with the fact that we know them and they don't know us. It's not easy, but - it's doable."
Robb knows now, at least, but Sansa - well. Sansa might never know that she and Hermione knew each other and were on the cusp of friendship, but that's okay. She can get to know Sansa just as well here, and she looks forward to that, at least.
no subject
It was a very, very embittered response. But this was the defense he had established for himself in order to justify trying to avoid the close friends that had forgotten him. If he could simply treat them as being beyond repair, then he could justify having nothing to do with them. It was the path of least resistance. Forgetting them back was easier.
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"A broken relationship - it's broken. But you can try and make something new with someone if you care about them enough. I think that's what I have to remember myself, really. That's what I have to remember with Robb."
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A moment like this was the sort of thing where he expected that two persons such as themselves ought to hug it out. Somewhere he suspected someone was actually watching them waiting for them to do that. But that was not Gendry. Instead he reached out, gave the side of her shoulder a light double tap. "You'll be alright."
By which he meant to say, he was going to be alright and maybe she would as well.
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"I know. I've gotten used to weird, mental things happening - not just every now and then anymore. It's practically every day." She lifts a shoulder, trying to act as though all of this hasn't bothered her as much as it has in reality. She turns to look out at the rest of the market instead before she breathes out, crossing her arms.
"Do you know what ship you're on yet?"
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"Mm. The Golden. I didn't much like it, though. I ain't been on it since I landed on the planet. I don't mean to go back."
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"You can't exactly stay on the planet. If your ship does leave without you, which I can't imagine it will, then the Atroma will just bring you back to the Golden. We can't actually stay that far away from them."
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"Aye, so I keep being told. Might be that's what will happen. Might not. I'm no one important, they may just forget all about me." They would not be the first, clearly.
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"There are worse places to end up staying, I suppose. The last planet we were on had poisonous air, so we all would've died without gas masks. At least here it's... Happier."
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Whether it was another poisonous planet or worse, Westeros itself.
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Besides, he was one year behind the curve it seemed. He wasn't sure what that would even mean if he went back.
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"We were actually... Trying to fix things properly. That's when I was brought here."
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He'd always held the opinion it was probably bunk anyway, but all the talk of doom and finality didn't seem to add up to a whole lot when the two of them could land themselves here instead.
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Hermione breathes out, closing her eyes - because she still has nightmares about the world ending, and her own powerlessness.
"As long as we're alive and fighting we'll try and find another route. That's just how it has to be."
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