teenyoda | Eachdraidh IC Inbox

Hey, you laugh at the pink smoke, but I have plans for that. You'll see.

[Yes, he'd be recording that little interaction, for good or bad. God, he hoped it was for good. So, so good.]

And maybe. Maybe I'll use smoke. Maybe I'll use something else. I am a wizard now and I was considered evilly creative in my getting back efforts without being able to do stuff like this. Imagine what I can do when my imagination is literally my limitation.

I imagine it, Stiles. And when I do I thank the Seven that you are not a cruel person. [ because she shivers and suffers nightmares over the thoughts of joffrey gaining similar magical talents. ]

Me? Nah. I'm not really a fan of bullies. I kind of hate them. A lot.

[He looked up when the door opened, one of the house elf type things coming in with a tray with lunch on it -- for two. Wow. They were really on the ball here. Maybe they were spying on him. Probably. But this went in his favor, so he didn't really mind so much. He moved to clear a spot on the table near her for the tray.]

Looks like it's lunch time. Uh, you want to join me? I think they brought enough for two.

Join you?

[ there it rises again -- that lilting habit of picking out a word or three and repeating it. like birdsong, the hound had said. chirping obedience. but today she uses it to hide her hesitation, like a place-holder in the conversation while she tries to land on an appropriate answer.

she stays perched on the edge of the chair and eyes the luncheon tray with rapt curiousity. ] Yes. Of course. I would like that. [ ... ] Provided they've brought you good things.

[ sansa sees sliced pie with tender meats and honeyed dates. she does not (alas, alack!) see any lemon cakes. normally, she eats lunch with her sister. but her sister is gone. and so she doesn't even have an excuse to decline. ] Don't you mind them? The fairy servants. I never remember their names: especially the three who tag-along with my -- [ handmaiden ] -- friend. Sigrid. Their names are so laughable I can't even repeat them here for you because I know you'll make faces.

[He looks over at the one he'd dubbed 'Squinty', because of the way it kept looking at him through slitted eyes like it was judging every little thing he did. He shrugged and moved over to pick up a goblet and pour her some of the juice they'd brought, having gotten that down off the bat. No wine or beer or alcoholic anything when he was working in here. That was just an accident waiting to happen.]

I'd be creeped out if I woke up with them in my room. The little ones tend to stay there instead, the, uh, the pixie things?

[That had been embarrassing, since he was pretty sure most of them were female and he had to get dressed, okay? He'd managed to start doing it under his blankets somehow, only coming out with his pants on backwards once in a while.]

These ones, they're the ones that are usually down in the kitchens. Or, this one is, anyway. Squinty here decided to make it his... or her business to make sure I actually ate, so... I don't really know how they delegate things like that. But it's not like they stick around long.

[True to what he said, the house elf stayed only long enough to pick up the vestiges of the last meal he'd eaten in there before leaving, closing the door behind themselves.]

Sigrid's three take direction from her -- [ sansa explains, as if it might somehow cast light on the matter. she murmurs a soft thank you to squinty before the oddly-named fairy leaves. ] And all they want in payment is cake. Clever little creatures, if you ask me.

[ sansa can well imagine being happy to work a job that pays only in cake -- but then again, such foolhardy thoughts mark her as one who has never had to work for a wage in her whole life. ]

That might be why I never have cake on my plate.

[Not that he'd really been bothered about it either way.]

They always seem to know when I need something, so they're on the ball with that. Not that I need anyone to do things for me. I'm a grown man, after all.

[No he wasn't but he was almost a man. Maybe. Possibly.]

[ sansa reached for a honey-sticky date. dainty as she is with nearly all other motions, she does not hesitate to pick at the tray of food with her fingers. delicate two-pronged forks were not unheard of in westeros, but they were not exceedingly common either. so she does not mind using her hands. ]

It's not about need. Is it? Knights don't keep squires because they need them. [ ... ] Or perhaps they do. I confess I don't know all that much about knights. Not really. But if knights keep squires then I suppose sorcerers must keep...something. Apprentices, perhaps? One day your magic will be strong enough that you'll warrant a beginner of your own to boss around.

Mm, pretty sure they do. Some of that armor's like... well, like some of your girl dresses with the corsets and stuff. They didn't exactly make clothes for the high ups to be a one person job, did they? But yeah, maybe... Though I think I'm sort of the apprentice right now. Hermione knows way more magic stuff than I do. She comes from somewhere where she was born with it, so she's got a pretty big advantage on me. But hey, that just means she can teach me how to do it right and not wind up... you know, setting things on fire.

[ ser gendry has no squire. she knows that much -- and she remembers the strange transgressive moment spent unlatching and removing the knight's armour so that they could toss it aside. leave it behind. sansa knows she's cost the young man rather a lot: how will she ever repay him? ]

I trust you listen carefully to her and give her your best attention. [ it hasn't taken much learning to understand that stiles could be a bit...flippant at times. ] If you are like her apprentice, then you must be utterly respectful.

Hey, I'll listen. I'm not exactly in the market for blowing parts of myself off.

[He wasn't flippant. He was... easily distracted. More so now that he didn't have access to his medication. Maybe he could talk to Hermione about whipping up some sort of replacement potion or something.

The mention of being respectful gets a snort, one he tries to hide in his cup.]

[ she misunderstands his implication, and shows a flicker of apprehension: ] Is this sorceress likely to do something like that? Blow...parts of you clean off your person? [ stiles, she suddenly realizes, might not like quite so pleasantly symmetrical if he was missing an arm. ]

[He looked so genuinely afraid, he couldn't help the small laugh before he shook his head.]

No, no, Alayne. She doesn't blow stuff off. I'm just... it's a thing. When you mess around with chemicals, you can blow stuff up. I'm sure neither of us plan to do any blowing up. We're good. Don't worry so much.

[ ah! wait. she knows something about this -- or so she thinks she does. sansa looks relieved, settled back into her chair, and picks up another honeyed date. ]

Will you make me a promise, Stiles? Not to use your gift of magic to make wildfire?

[ it doesn't occur to her that wildfire might be unique to westeros. ]

[He puffs out his cheeks and looks at her.]

I can't really be sure about that since I don't know what wildfire is? I mean, I can make fire from my staff, so that... I don't know if that counts.

Wildfire is green -- [ she says it as simply as if she was speaking to someone who ought to know this fundamental fact. ] Is your fire green?

Edited 2014-07-17 02:51 (UTC)

Um... no. It's pretty fiery colored. I mean, if I was back home I could maybe make green fire with one of those logs, but I don't think we're talking about the same kind of fire.

It burns hotter than normal fire. I saw it burn hot and green across a whole bay of water.

Oh. Huh. No, I can't say I've seen anything like that.

[But how he was intrigued. Water burning fire, you say?]

I would say perhaps that you might consider making it yourself but...it's an old and lost art. And terribly dangerous.

I just go by what's in the books. This is all pretty new to me and I may seem kind of flippant with it, but trust me, I'm not ready to go making stuff up on my own. I'll follow the rules until I think I have them down well enough to try tweaking things.

Are you never afraid? [ ... ] Of what happens to rule-breakers, wherever you're from?

[There's a moment where he's trying really, really hard not to laugh, face strained with the effort of it.]

Of all the things I'm afraid of, Alayne, getting caught by tweaking things isn't one of them.

[ she can see those tics! don't think she can't! ]

...What does frighten you, then?

Losing the people I love.

[It comes out with almost no thought; Stiles' number one fear always present at the forefront of his mind.]

Being alone. Like, really, really, alone. Dying. Pain. Needles. Spiders. Low test scores.

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