Robb Stark (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
kingofbadlifechoices) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2016-09-02 12:36 am
kingofbadlifechoices) wrote in driftfleet2016-09-02 12:36 am
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Who: Robb & you!
Broadcast: Voice
Action: Mostly at the Blue Fish
When: Today
Network – Voice
[When Robb speaks his voice sounds like that of a sick old man above his eighties. In his life he hasn’t been sick often but when it strikes it mostly manages to floor him at least for a couple of days.]
If there is anyone still in possession of anything that used to belong to my sister Arya, I would like to ask you if you can bring them to me. I stay at the Blue Fish. My name is Robb Stark, I am in charge of security. I am also her oldest brother.
You have my thanks.
[To those who come by to hand over Arya’s stuff or want to run into him – The Blue Fish]
[Robb is waiting for you at the docking station, dressed in the uniform belonging to his job as head of security. The only abnormal thing about him is that he looks pale and has a running nose.
You will be thanked for your donation and if you’re lucky he’ll sneeze in your face as well.]
[To those who want to come visit to fret over Robb and/or is a resident on the Blue Fish]
[Most of the day Robb will be found in his bed with the lights off and his head tucked away underneath the blankets. He has messaged his captain about his sickness and prefers to sleep it off.
So come fuss. He’ll probably be grouchy about it.]
[Action – closed to Bran]
[After Robb has taken a shower and changed into different clothes he actually feels a bit better. At least, good enough to pay his younger brother a visit. Just to check if he is still here, on this bloody ship.
Robb knocks twice.]
Bran? [And another knock.] It is me, Robb. [Robb is sure that Bran probably knows that it is him but just in case.] I need to speak to you. [Or well, just see him. Just knowing that he is allright.] It is about Arya...ah...
[The rest of the words disappear into a loud sneeze.]
Broadcast: Voice
Action: Mostly at the Blue Fish
When: Today
Network – Voice
[When Robb speaks his voice sounds like that of a sick old man above his eighties. In his life he hasn’t been sick often but when it strikes it mostly manages to floor him at least for a couple of days.]
If there is anyone still in possession of anything that used to belong to my sister Arya, I would like to ask you if you can bring them to me. I stay at the Blue Fish. My name is Robb Stark, I am in charge of security. I am also her oldest brother.
You have my thanks.
[To those who come by to hand over Arya’s stuff or want to run into him – The Blue Fish]
[Robb is waiting for you at the docking station, dressed in the uniform belonging to his job as head of security. The only abnormal thing about him is that he looks pale and has a running nose.
You will be thanked for your donation and if you’re lucky he’ll sneeze in your face as well.]
[To those who want to come visit to fret over Robb and/or is a resident on the Blue Fish]
[Most of the day Robb will be found in his bed with the lights off and his head tucked away underneath the blankets. He has messaged his captain about his sickness and prefers to sleep it off.
So come fuss. He’ll probably be grouchy about it.]
[Action – closed to Bran]
[After Robb has taken a shower and changed into different clothes he actually feels a bit better. At least, good enough to pay his younger brother a visit. Just to check if he is still here, on this bloody ship.
Robb knocks twice.]
Bran? [And another knock.] It is me, Robb. [Robb is sure that Bran probably knows that it is him but just in case.] I need to speak to you. [Or well, just see him. Just knowing that he is allright.] It is about Arya...ah...
[The rest of the words disappear into a loud sneeze.]
no subject
[Fever or no fever, Robb pulls a face at that.]
I do not get that. Why people think such words will change anything. [He huffs and looks like a puffy brat for a moment.] It is like telling the wife of a fallen soldier that his corpse is not actually a corpse.
Home is... [Robb frowns.] ...it can be anything, really. You do not know of Westeros, so you cannot picture your home... [While talking he breathes heavily.] Home is...where your loved ones are. [He nods, as if he had to convince himself of that.] What do you consider home then?
[The only place that he could call home would be Winterfell for him. Winterfell, with his siblings, his mother, his wife and his own children. There would be peace.
Now there is chaos and war and everything is gone.]
It is... [He looks at her with tired eyes.] ...I wish I could go back. And do what good kings do.
no subject
There is a place. Was. I am not sure if it is still there. When I was a child my brother and I constantly moved from place to place, fleeing Robert Baratheon's men as he tried to hunt us down over and over again. I'd never had a home before this place. It was a small house in Braavos with a red door. When I was a girl I would wake each morning to the smell of lemons outside my window from the tree that grew in the yard. We were forced to leave after Ser Willem Darry passed away. He'd taken ill and when he died the servants took everything we had brought with us from Dragonstone and threw us to the streets.