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Who: Cersei & OPEN!
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: onboard the Bishop
When: anytime. Witness the catchup post!

[Cersei isn't aware she's being filmed... this whole video thing is still new to her, though she's fairly certain she's figured out the ins and outs of it. She's been quiet, withdrawn; an unusual state for a Lannister. Mostly because she's seen Jaime on the videos and hasn't quite been able to bring herself to contacting him first. At the end of the day, Cersei is a Lannister and she certainly knows how to sulk with the best of them. Consequently, she's pulling one of her classic 'you didn't come to find me immediately, so now you're too late, figure out how to make it up to me without going off to Dorne' sulks.

She, of course, missed the one where he asked about her, naturally. Because when have things ever been easy when it came to Cersei Lannister?

Count your blessings, Jaime, that she's been too engrossed in her work this eve to notice the spectacle you've made of yourself.

No, she has been caught up in her own little world, carefully stretching her fingers as Captain. Things have run smoothly, so far, and there's a tiny part of her--okay, an exceedingly large part--that wishes there was some way to send this knowledge back to her long-dead father. Just so he can roll in his grave.

There's a different reason, however, as to why she's stayed withdrawn and the image shifts slightly to show the work in her hand. She's given up on her longer, flowy dresses and has taken to wearing the clothes of the day. Pants are still an interesting point of order, however. However, there's one thing she cannot abide and that is not having a Lannister lion adorning her clothing. So she has been working for the past few weeks, emblazoning the lion on the back of one of her jackets.

Yes, her. Stitching. You heard me.

She's not completely incompetent when it comes to the finer arts, even if she's always had her clothes made for her. She is, however, a lady and still remembers certain stitches from her youth. It may not be perfect but the smile on her face as she runs her fingers over the red and yellow is beatific.]

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[ So this is their Captain. Yuri watches curiously. That kind of stitching . . . something a noble would know. Yuri's technique was far more efficient but also more likely to stick out. The Lower Quarter isn't known for its luxuries. ]

Keeping busy?

[The voice makes her startle and she stabs herself in the thumb with her needle. Cersei swears softly under her breath and looks at the bit of blood pooling on her thumb. She sticks the digit in her mouth, sucking before the blood can stain her needlework.]

I suppose? [She turns toward the voice, giving a hesitant smile.] I've found the clothing a bit different than I'm used to so I wanted a bit of... familiarity.

Yeah, all this futuristic nonsense isn't my cup of tea.

[ It would be Rita's though. She would have loved this place. ]

Why not buy clothes though? We're stopping over at a planet soon enough.

It is far from my cup of tea as well.

[She's trying though. But she does like the position of power though and actually being respected here.]

In truth, I suppose I could. But it's more... [She picks up the jacket, running her fingers over the stitching] I doubt I could find such on any planetary stop-over.

Probably not.

[ Not from the way she dresses. Clearly noble birth. Yuri doesn't know what to make of that, but he'll withhold judgement for now. ]

The Fleet might have stuff, though.

[In all the things she has imagined of Cersei, it was never embroidery. It always seemed beneath her.

Little surprise it was a lion she was emblazoning her clothes with.]

Houses have no purpose in this world.

[It wasn't quite beneath her. It was beneath her in the sense that she would have rather sat at Tywin's elbow and learned the finer points of battle tactics than learning a picot stitch. But she was a good lady and knew how to make an embroidery -- even if she would much rather have someone else do it for her.]

Houses have purposes in every world, child.

[She was more of a lion than her younger brother. Even sitting calmly and sewing, she seemed like a lion waiting to pounce. Yet, the fear she might have had against Cersei was gone. Instead, she felt strong and brave, even against someone above her in standing.]

No. The only loyalty that need exist here is to those you love, rather than yourself or the house you claim to love.

[It's funny but she has no machinations on 'pouncing' anytime soon. Unless provoked. Still she notices the little kitten pretending to have some claws too. Interesting, though, how she's trying to look like she's puffing her chest out and pretending to fly above her station.]

Just because one finds themselves in this place does not erase any past loyalties. To your house or otherwise. To not have loyalty to yourself? Show me one person who is not loyal at least to themselves as well as others.

[Jack hasn't met his Captain yet, so he's going to approach rather carefully. Her name sounds like a witch's name. That freaks him out, a bit, because witches can do horrible things to a man. He knocks very softly and puts on a giant, winning smile when he first introduces himself. Also, he brings pudding.]

Missus Captain? Captain Cersei? Captain Jack Sparrow. I've brought you a pudding?

[No witch here, Jack. You're safe as safe can be. Well, mostly. As safe as anyone really can be around one Cersei Lannister.]

Far be it for me to say no to pudding. [She sets the embroidery away so nothing spills on it.] Chocolate, I hope?

Aye, Mistress Captain. [He eyes the embroidery, thinks needles are pointy and flesh-piercing, and attempts to steer as clear of it as possible.]

That's a lovely kitty you're sewing.

How did you guess? I happen to have a weakness for chocolate.

[Really, she's not going to do that so settle down, Jack. Promise. She may be just shy of an evil queen, but blood spatters would most likely wind up on the lion and ruin all of her work.

Even if her house colors are gold and red.]

It's actually a lion. It's the sigil of my house, back from where I am from.

[Fierce. Terrifying. Gorgeous. He offers her the pudding with the most gracious bow.]

I've got a sigil! Back where I'm from. Isn't mine, but I've got it.

[Kitty doesn't recognize the woman. She's heard Tyrion speak of her, of course, but to hear him talk she'd be the embodiment of evil which Kitty would have pictured as...taller? Maybe actual flames pouring off her? Who knows, but not just someone stitching away. She almost scrolls past, but she's befriended so many people from times before or at least without technology that she has something of a soft spot.]

Your communicator is recording you.

[She's gotten better at not having her communicator accidentally recording her! But, apparently, not as good as she thought. Blast.]

Just when one thinks they have these things figured out...

I couldn't tell you if it was user error or not, but I wouldn't put it past our hosts to be responsible for most of the mysterious recording accidents.

Apparently this one was user error, I had thought I had set it down without hitting any buttons but... apparently not. [A pause; something she hadn't considered.] I'm still finding my footing here. Have the hosts been known to do such things?

Oh, the hosts—otherwise known as captors—definitely do such things. They are "such things" experts. They usually pick more dramatic or embarrassing moments though, so user error is possible too. Or maybe they just wanted you talking to the rest of us.

[ Catelyn's mind is not often at ease of late. Tyrion may have made himself a begrudging ally of sorts, but Jaime and Cersei are, at best, question marks. She didn't so much intend to find her way here but now she has. Her responsibilities may be different here, along with her skill set, but making sure her children are safe has always topped the list. For a moment, she simply stands still and observes, a turmoil of emotion twisting through her. She can detachedly admit that Cersei's needlework is fine enough, as it should be, and it is unsurprising that she has chosen a lion. But the anger and the pain are still there, and she wouldn't mind letting a little of it loose on Cersei. When she speaks, her voice is roughened by grief and the memory of the blade across her throat, the knife in her son's heart, Ice slicing through Ned's neck as though he were a criminal. ]

You have no guards at your door now.

[ Gods curse her if she will give Cersei any sort of title as yet. ]

[She can feel the eyes on her but she doesn't move. She won't speak first, though she wishes she had some sort of reflective surface to see who is watching her so intently. Cersei won't give off any sort of vibe that she's uncomfortable being watched like this. She isn't some exhibit to be gawked at. She's a Queen; not a side-show. Still, her needle moves up and down through the fabric, filling in the lion's belly with a satin stitch.

Then she hears the voice and she's glad for the distance; glad that she has her back to the woman. To the dead woman. Interesting. Is this a place where the dead Starks will come to call?]

A fair point, of course. But as we both know; the presence of guards can either help or hurt you. And some times they do little to even protect you. But you wouldn't know anything about that, now would you?

[Not only have the gods, or the Atroma, or the gods using the Atroma, whichever, whatever, restored her from death, they've made her better. Stronger, thanks to spending time honing the skills the augment had given her. Now she is as adept with the varied and previously unfamiliar weaponry in this strange new place as she had been with a needle herself back home. The wolf has sharper teeth than she had. And if Cersei thought to unnerve her with that little jab, she would have to do more. She shifts her balance a little, though she makes no move to crowd into Cersei's space further. ]

I learned a great many things in the last few moments of the life I lost, it is true. Did Roose Bolton speak truly? Did he and Frey act with your family's blessing?

[ Should I have shoved your brother into space when I had the chance? So many questions. ]

[ He has been looking for her. It's just that the logistics of finding someone in space have complicated matters.

He did broadcast a message. It's not his fault she missed it.

But leave it to him to happen upon her, at last, in a broadcast she, most likely, didn't even intend to make. ]

Cersei?

[ He knows it's her. He would know it was her even if he hadn't seen her face. That lion is unmistakable, and in the back of his mind, he's thinking that he should get her to embroider something of his. Maybe he'll ask her later. But not now. Now there are more important questions.]

Are you all right?

[Really, though, he should know how this goes. That when she doesn't see a thing, it means it doesn't exist. Even if, logically, she knows he has been trying to find her. They do... tend to make their way back to each other, somehow.

She can, however, be pissy all she wants. Because it is also something she is very adept at doing. She picks her head up at the sound of a voice that is so familiar to her, it takes all her strength not to react to it. She can't make it easy on him, no matter how relieved she is to hear him speak.]

Jaime.

[Her voice is soft, eyes focusing on the work in front of her as she swallows; needing to find her composure once more.]

As well as can be expected in such a place, I suppose. And you, Ser? [She finally looks to the camera to see his face, a tiny tick at the corner of her mouth that may have been the hint of a smile.]

[ Having not been here too long herself, the lovely woman that appears on Lunafreya's communication device is a face she's never seen before. But she's almost positive that the poor thing has no idea she's being watched, and so with a gentle voice, she speaks. ]

That is a beautiful lion... you must have put many hours of work into it.

[ She flashes a smile to the other woman, offering her a small but quick apologetic bow. ]

Please, forgive me for intruding. I could not help but admire your work.

[These contraptions -- for all the knowledge she was given, it still doesn't make using technology second nature for one who believed in the power of the maesters. Computers and space ships are still... Bizarre.]

Many hours, yes. [She picks up the garment, shifting it just enough so the girl can see it.] The compliment is kind of you. I very much appreciate it. [She sets it back down, picking up her needle once more.] They are symbols, back where I am from.

[ Luna looks intently at the piece of clothing that she's being so generously shown, and she takes it in until Cersei places it back down. ]

It is a gorgeous symbol, and the fact that you are able to make it look so beautiful just by memory of the image is such a commendable talent. [ She wasn't born yesterday, and being nobility herself she's got a suspicion that the lion symbol is one of a very noble house. She doesn't comment on that, though, because she can't really be sure and she isn't one to pry.

But everything about this woman screams nobility. ] Is it a family crest?

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