driftfleet | [Action] Going Calling

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[Action] Going Calling

Who: Tyrion
Broadcast: N.O.P.E
Action: Tyrion's making his way around the Fleet. Hi Friends.
When: First week of August

Having an engineering augment had seriously helped him with the ability to have some breathing space on the rather overly metal surfaces of the First Breath. Not that he didn't love his ship - honestly he spent as much time there chatting up Lily and Hawke as he did sleep.

Let's face it, Tyrion wasn't much for sleeping. So when he wasn't working on the Engineering of the ship (hour or two, tops), or his own projects (four to five depending on how late he stayed up), then managing the bar (eight hours), he still had time on his hands. So he would take that shuttle, and head out into the deep dark (don't think about it, do not even think about not having air), to visit.

If you are expecting a handsome - well at least charming - dwarf, do feel free to open your airlocks. No worries, he can break in if necessary.

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While Robb Stark still looks like his mother, just as forgiving with his cold blue eyes. Blue eyes that Sansa shares, as well as that auburn hair. His mis-matched eyes narrowed, but he merely dipped his head in greeting.

"Thank you." He pulls himself up into the chair, and then pours himself a little bit of the wine along with water. "Nor it would surprise me."

Now with a drink properly watered down, he tipped his gaze to the other man. "Which is why it is better to be prepared now. To have friendships put into place that will help protect family, and those considered family."

“They seem to like it to bring half of Westeros here.” But then again, for some this is a better life than the ones they could ever have back in Westeros. Even for himself. Being around his siblings with a beating heart in his chest is definitely better than dying at the Twins. While Tyrion sips his wine, Robb keeps it to water for himself.

He realizes he had to build bridges and to let go of all these old grudges he carried towards anyone with Lannister as their last name. But it is difficult. Especially after he seen Sansa’s memories. He tightens his hands to fists and focuses on Tyrion.

“I cannot say that this is an easy thing to do for me.” The tone of his voice is a strict one. “To trust a Lannister... But I see your point.” Robb knows he needs to let go of his war. That does not matter here anymore. “Therefore I will offer my help.”

"It is entirely possible that they will." He had his concerns about that, after all. He sips once more then puts it aside so he can focus on the other man completely. He lifts his chin at the other man, mis-matched eyes firm.

"You don't need to trust me, Robb Stark. Trust is something one earns -- and frankly you do not have mine either." He tips his head, waiting for that to sink in, "However, we can agree to have a mutually beneficial relationship for the people who are important, the ones we love."

“I hope not.” The answer itself is already enough. There are some faces he rather not see. Theon’s presence is already difficult enough. Right there between the need to rid his body of his head and the desire to become his friend again. To undo all that has happened. Alas, Robb is not a very forgiving type.

“I would not expect you to trust me, lord Tyrion.” Robb shrugs and looks at the other. Gods be good, he became even uglier over time. The last time he saw him he still had a nose. The last words make Robb think again. That would definitely mean he should trust the other. But Lannisters had an awful track record when it came to that. And Robb always bloody remembers. Still, choices are scarce.

“Very well. And how do you see this? Who do you wish to protect?”

"As do I." Who would really find it entertaining to watch him stab his sister in the face twenty-nine times? Certainly not their younger audience, at the very least. He tipped his chin up slightly.

"Good." Because he didn't. He didn't trust Robb not to fuck this all to Seven Hells and back, so he'd watch him carefully. Of course Robb Stark was handsomer than should be allowed, but Tyrion was becoming annoyed by the way the other man's lip was curling ever so slightly. I am not pretty, you little shit, I don't have to be. I have ten times the mind you shall ever have.

"I see that for now - we share information. Simple. If you see a dangerous risk, you let me know. I will let you know the same." He paused, before he spoke simply, "My Queen. My friends - Kitty, Winn, Cole, Lily, Hank, Pinkie, Charles Xavier, Jim Kirk, Fenris, Crowley, Jon naturally, Beverly Crusher, Jennifer Keller -- to name a few."

His friends were his ... family.

Robb wishes he could shake his wariness off and think more clear. Of all the Lannisters Tyrion wasn’t the worst. Just like his squires weren’t the worst Lannisters either. Gods, things would not stop being confusing. But what purpose is there when death awaits at home? Does he still have a realm to protect and men to listen to? No, he has not. All he has are his siblings and the friends he made here. And yes, they should be safe. It is the least he can do.

He sighs deeply and relaxes a little bit in front of the other. Some of the names he mentions sound familiar, others not and Robb starts to become aware of how narrow minded he actually is. There were more people who needed help. Kitty would be facing her death as well, just like him. And Kirk had those numbers on his arm, marking the coordinates of his planet. Earth. While thinking he starts to chew his lower lip.

“I will keep my eyes and ears open.” Robb nods slowly, gazing at Tyrion while he does so. “My apologies...at times it is difficult to see beyond the name of your house.” But still he does not trust him, even if he wants to, he will never do so. “And regarding the work you have offered me... Tell me more about it. I can use the rewards....”

Tyrion continued to give him a cool and steely look, his mis-matched eyes taking in the other man. He sighed quietly, because between the disgust and the mistrust in him -- there was something else in Robb Stark's face. Sorrow, and a youthful age that was absolutely too young to be dealing with such issues.

He rubbed his beard, glad that it covered some of his scar, before he stated simply, "I know that all too well. What I speak of is simply assisting us around the bar, to help us with possible security issues, but more importantly, to keep the peace amongst one and all. The bar is a place for relaxing - I would not have it turned into a terror zone."

As so many other places on this ship had become.

Robb cocks his head slowly to the left, not really fazed by the cold stare Tyrion gives him. It is not meant for Starks and Lannisters to exchange pleasantries and if there will be trust it has to grow. And it does not matter that Sansa is married to this man. That marriage has been one big jape in his eyes and downright insulting. And wasn’t it Bolton who claimed Winterfell now? And the North? Briefly Robb’s hands clench to fists at the thought of that. Still, when Tyrion speaks he relaxes again.

“I know how to land a punch or two. I take it I will be paid through the communicator?” There was this method of showing amounts of gold and store the actual gold somewhere else. Something modern that made Robb’s head spin a little. Still. “Do I need to wear anything different? And what weapon do you want met to carry?”

He hopes it is not one of those guns. That isn’t a type of weapon he truly likes.

Tyrion would say it was between the Lannister and the Stark - after all he and Jon had a solid friendship that no one could cross. He was protective of young Bran, naturally, and Sansa ... well. Sansa would always have his protection. Even if it was from the shadows.

"Yes. It is the most direct line of credit. I would recommend, however, taking some out and putting it somewhere safe. There have been problems with credits before." He stated. Frankly he would not like to see the sort of fit the other man would have if kept from his coin. "Wear whatever you like. Just recall you will be wearing it for eight hours."

If Robb would knew that his siblings trust Tyrion a bit more it would be far more easy to trust him as well. His siblings have good judgement, especially Jon. And the saddle Tyrion invented for Bran had worked. His brother had been able to ride a horse again. Too bad that those Wildlings had to appear that day.

“I have withdrawn some from a bank.” Robb nods, agreeing that he does not entirely trust the communicator to hold his funds. “At the poisoned planet. I do not trust these communicators with it. They belong to the lords of Atroma, they can take my credits when they see fit.” At the last sentence he laughs a little.

“I have worn an armor for ten hours straight, I am sure I can handle simple clothes.”

Well, that was really up to Jon and Bran to bring that up. If they were keeping silent? It was not Tyrion's problem, nor was it his place to push for trust when it had been so hard to earn it.

"And no one should trust the Lords of Atroma. Not with their money, at the very least." Certainly not with anyone lives.

He smirks faintly, "Then you should be fine."

Robb shakes his head slowly.

“Not at all. Also not wit...ourselves. Or our lives.” The tone of his voice is a little bitter when he says that. Living this life is all fun and games, but it rubs him the wrong way that he nothing but some sort of pawn.

“I think I will be able to handle everything properly, yes.” After saying that he gazes at Tyrion for a long moment. “I think that covers everything we needed to discuss, is it not?”

Tyrion gave him a thoughtful look, before he nods in agreement, to all of it. He puts aside the wine - he only took a few sips - and jumps gracefully to his feet. He is getting rather good at this, now. Getting to his feet without immediately falling to his face. The removal of liquor must have helped.

"I bid you a good evening, Lord Stark."

“You may take the wine with you, if you wish it so.” Robb points at the bottle. “I like them sweeter than that one.”

When the other gets up he stands as well, looking at Tyrion with the best neutral expression he is capable of. Of all the Lannisters he knows of the Imp is one of the least troublesome.

“Likewise, lord Tyrion.”

Tyrion paused, before he stated simply, "I am afraid the temptation would be too great for me - but I do have a friend who likes such vintages. I shall take it to Fenris."

He nods his head stiffly, but courteously, with the flair that he is famous for, then turns to leave. He is standing up straighter than he ever has, and he does let the other man see his back.

A sign of trust. Wary trust, but trust.

Robb nods quietly and lets the older man take the wine with him. This Fenris fellow might enjoy it. For a moment he wants to ask Tyrion after the temptations of wine but finally he decides not to.

He gives the other man another nod as he walks out of the door but remains quiet. It could be that he has done well by agreeing to all of this or that it might be his downfall eventually. Remembering the fact that the saddle Tyrion designed for Bran to use did actually work very well, he tends to lean to the positive side to all of this.

Tyrion Lannister maybe isn’t all that bad... Maybe.

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[Action] Going Calling

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