meera reed (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
greywater) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2016-09-30 08:31 pm
greywater) wrote in driftfleet2016-09-30 08:31 pm
Entry tags:
001 ✥ And if you're still breathing, you're the lucky ones
Who: Meera Reed and anyone who wants to welcome her!
Broadcast: video: post Shuffle
Action: SS Marsiva; SS Paisley
When: When she arrives and post Shuffle
( ss marsiva )
[Her arrival isn't any sort of loud, abrasive entrance. It takes a moment for her eyes to simply open, the glaring artificial light not something she is used to. The whole ordeal is utterly foreign. From the time she wakes, the rest of her experience is just as jarring. There's a slight nervousness to her. Her questions go unanswered as she tries to ask what became of her brother and Bran. They clearly aren't on this-- ship, something she discovered rather quickly.
The days she's aboard, she paces most of the time. The pictures on the wall, she watches the whole loop. Meera is looking for something, anything. Though despite the anxiousness, there is an easiness to her. She paces, but she is calm enough as she does it. There's little she can do. Especially without her spear. Not that she couldn't try to rig something up-- there's enough in the Hospitality Deck, she assesses her first day.
But there seems to be no threat. There seems to be nothing. Nothing but the vast windows that look out to even more nothing. She stands quietly at it, thinking of home, her brother, and her life back in Westeros. It feels strange to simply be here. There should be more, something. But all she has for the time being is her thoughts and this space.]
( ss paisley )
[The fanfare is unexpected, small bits of confetti still in her hair after she's beamed aboard her new home. Engineering, they said. A word far removed from her old world. But then none of this is even remotely close to the medieval, fantasy world that was Westeros. In truth she already missed the feel of the earth beneath her feet, the fresh air-- though even that has been an experience she has not had in some time.
She isn't sure who she would come across on the new ship, but one thing is sure-- she needs to see if there is a possibility that there is anyone here she may know. It seems anything could be possible here, but if Bran and Jojen were safe, it would relieve some of the apparent tension in her neck, the tightness she holds.]
Hello? [The brunette calls onto the deck, leaning in to look around.]
( video )
[This is still an adjustment. The very existence of this place odd. Meera is not one to judge the unlikelihood of something. There is no arguing against the existence of something glaring her in the face. Meera is all too accustomed to that.
And because of this, she sits poised in front of the device-- it's playing a video, something she is only aware of because of the knowledge given to her. None of this makes sense, but there's parts of it she can identify. Her faith in that keeps her unnerved.]
My name is Meera, and I am in search of three boys. They were traveling companions of mine. I do not know the likelihood of them being here, but I need to know if they are here. [It's not only family, but duty. Her tone is level, a corner of her lip tilted into a half smile.]
Two are younger than I. One, thin and blond. He is not always well. [To put it lightly.] Another is young boy, dark hair. He may be accompanied by a third, older though. He says little save his own name.
[It is not much to go on, but she daren't put them in harm's way. Meera doesn't know what the name 'Stark' may mean. It is vague at best, but she remains hopeful, unsure what they would do without her.]
Broadcast: video: post Shuffle
Action: SS Marsiva; SS Paisley
When: When she arrives and post Shuffle
( ss marsiva )
[Her arrival isn't any sort of loud, abrasive entrance. It takes a moment for her eyes to simply open, the glaring artificial light not something she is used to. The whole ordeal is utterly foreign. From the time she wakes, the rest of her experience is just as jarring. There's a slight nervousness to her. Her questions go unanswered as she tries to ask what became of her brother and Bran. They clearly aren't on this-- ship, something she discovered rather quickly.
The days she's aboard, she paces most of the time. The pictures on the wall, she watches the whole loop. Meera is looking for something, anything. Though despite the anxiousness, there is an easiness to her. She paces, but she is calm enough as she does it. There's little she can do. Especially without her spear. Not that she couldn't try to rig something up-- there's enough in the Hospitality Deck, she assesses her first day.
But there seems to be no threat. There seems to be nothing. Nothing but the vast windows that look out to even more nothing. She stands quietly at it, thinking of home, her brother, and her life back in Westeros. It feels strange to simply be here. There should be more, something. But all she has for the time being is her thoughts and this space.]
( ss paisley )
[The fanfare is unexpected, small bits of confetti still in her hair after she's beamed aboard her new home. Engineering, they said. A word far removed from her old world. But then none of this is even remotely close to the medieval, fantasy world that was Westeros. In truth she already missed the feel of the earth beneath her feet, the fresh air-- though even that has been an experience she has not had in some time.
She isn't sure who she would come across on the new ship, but one thing is sure-- she needs to see if there is a possibility that there is anyone here she may know. It seems anything could be possible here, but if Bran and Jojen were safe, it would relieve some of the apparent tension in her neck, the tightness she holds.]
Hello? [The brunette calls onto the deck, leaning in to look around.]
( video )
[This is still an adjustment. The very existence of this place odd. Meera is not one to judge the unlikelihood of something. There is no arguing against the existence of something glaring her in the face. Meera is all too accustomed to that.
And because of this, she sits poised in front of the device-- it's playing a video, something she is only aware of because of the knowledge given to her. None of this makes sense, but there's parts of it she can identify. Her faith in that keeps her unnerved.]
My name is Meera, and I am in search of three boys. They were traveling companions of mine. I do not know the likelihood of them being here, but I need to know if they are here. [It's not only family, but duty. Her tone is level, a corner of her lip tilted into a half smile.]
Two are younger than I. One, thin and blond. He is not always well. [To put it lightly.] Another is young boy, dark hair. He may be accompanied by a third, older though. He says little save his own name.
[It is not much to go on, but she daren't put them in harm's way. Meera doesn't know what the name 'Stark' may mean. It is vague at best, but she remains hopeful, unsure what they would do without her.]
no subject
[ There's an edge to his voice, a sort of anger at the unspoken accusation that he may have harmed Bran or Meera's brother. He's grown weary of such questions. Despite his good intentions, the Theon who took Winterfell was a fool. He made the wrong decisions, trusted the wrong people, and forgiveness does not appear to be an option. The weight of his remorse has only grown heavier over the past few months.
Still, it's just a steely tone to his voice. Nothing about his body language implies that he intends to lash out. ]
You can speak to them yourself if you don't find my word to be enough.
no subject
Plus there's little she can do if they're shipmates.]
How long have you been here?
no subject
[ Does she know? Her brother did. Perhaps Meera possesses the same strange gift as Jojen--or perhaps the last thing she saw was the Winterfell dungeons. Time works so strangely here, after all. His eyebrows knit together as he tries to recall just how long he's been with the fleet. ]
Perhaps eight months.
no subject
We left Winterfell right after-- some months now, I would imagine. [She isn't sure in truth, now far beyond the Wall. She isn't sure what to say to him, how much he would know. Has he talked to Jojen and Bran?]
no subject
An awkward silence falls between them. What do you say to someone who you've held captive? That isn't something you can apologize for. So he just goes with something completely different. ]
Have you been assigned to the armory as well?
[ Gods, he hopes not. Imagine how much more awkward that would be. ]
no subject
I should probably find where I'm staying and then report there.