Call me Out

[dammitmasa]

Faded characters are currently inactive. Please do not call them out!

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Full Journal List

code by cawaii
- Refer to the list above for an active muse. -
- To call them out, put their name in the subject line. -
- Prose or commentspam are fine! -
- Start with a scenario or give a prompt for one you'd like to see.

Preferences:
- I don't play for shipping, fluff, or smut. If it arrives naturally, I'll play it. But not as a starting point.
- In universe, AUs, crossovers, post-game, or other situations are cool.
- I will play prose or brackets, but definitely prefer prose.

Comments

[steeledskin]

"He's young. He's lonely. He doesn't know how to make friends."

Sansa felt for a moment that she was speaking about herself. So she shook her head and ventured deeper into Gendry's room. "I imagine his mother never allowed him to meet a smith."

[bullhorned]

A lonely lord. The idea seemed almost like a joke to him. How could a lord be lonely when people were spilling over one another to ingratiate themselves to him?

"I'll talk to him." As though I have a choice in the matter. "What should I say to him?"

[steeledskin]

"What do boys ever say to other boys?" She asked, indicating she barely knew how to converse with Robin on a good day. "Whatever you say, be gentle about it. For your own sake."

[bullhorned]

"Gentle," he repeated warily. It was strange to think that with Ned Stark's daughter, they wrestled like brothers. But with Jon Arynn's boy, he would need to be gentle. "Aye. I can do that."

Says the smith. There's nothing gentle about me.

[steeledskin]

"I am sorry," she said -- almost as an afterthought as she moved to lead him from the room. "I should have warned you. Or him. I can't help but feel that I'm at fault for..."

She pulled a kerchief from her sleeve. Sansa had learned to keep one on her person back in King's Landing, when blood was frequently on her face. She offered it to him, knowing it would help little when it was so dry and his wounds no longer fresh.

[bullhorned]

He was hesitant to follow, yet follow he did. When she offered him the kerchief, he hardly know what he was expected to do with it. She'd given him a blanket before. He knew exactly what that was for. But this dainty piece of cloth seemed next to useless in his rough, dirty and calloused hands.

"It's not the first time I've had my nose bloodied. I'm from Fleabottom, remember? A bloodied nose is how we say hello to one another. And a few knocked out teeth is how the knights tell us goodbye. I'd call myself lucky to have the former."

Sorry for the delay, just wanted to consider a direction for this

[originaljackass]

[The drive gave time for Jack to think. Raven was a useful guy to keep around and while Jack did not dislike him, he knew well that the other Fable was treacherous. Not as treacherous or crafty as Jack, but still a problem. I may need to get rid of him, Jack thought as he considered his partner. When he stops being useful, anyway. But before he realizes that. Hmm...

I'm hungry.

The immediate problem was the man they were hunting. He had carefully avoiding giving specifics to Raven, because the man they were hunting had a fearsome reputation. Zorro had been stealing from America and the connecting Fable worlds for centuries. Even Bigby Wolf had went hunting for him once, but was never able to sniff him out. And as much as Jack hated Fabletown's sheriff, he knew good and well he didn't quite have what it took to hunt down this particular Fable.

They were going to need to cheat.]

So... Raven. Buddy. We may need to take a slight detour. There's something we're going to need.

Oh, no worries! I've been dicking around, trying out Raven's voice, hopefully getting it down right.

[spirit_says_so]

[Raven had been somewhat enjoying the relative silence of the drive. Sure, the radio was on, but that was hardly the same as trying to keep up with whatever half-assed plan Jack was hatching. He cocked his head.]

A detour? What do you mean?

[Then again, he knew nothing beyond what Jack had told him thus far. If Jack said they needed a detour, well, who was Raven to say otherwise?

He still was a bit dubious.]

What are you thinking?

[steeledskin]

"...Is that really how it is?"

She once believed a knight to be beyond reproach, but now she knew better. Then again, she'd also wondered whether she was alone in how she suffered under the Kingsguard's blows.

"We should expect more from our knights."

[bullhorned]

What she spoke of was wishful thinking and though she might reprimand him for saying otherwise, he did so anyway. "Expecting more is how you lose your teeth."

[steeledskin]

She touched her jaw. Perhaps she should be grateful that Meryn Trant had never taken any of her teeth.

"I would rather not have the men of this house striking any guests. They will be spoken to."

[bullhorned]

He had nothing to say. Was he supposed to thank her for that? Maybe. But he wondered how much influence she truly had. She had got him free, but only, it seemed, to the great reluctance of her father.

"What's he like? This Lord Robin?"

[steeledskin]

"Sickly," she confessed. "Often petulant. He is only six."

He takes fits. But that felt like a personal piece of information. She would not want someone speaking of her in such a way to a visitor.

[bullhorned]

"A young one, isn't he? I've never been around children that small before." No children ever came by the forge, unless they wanted a hot coal tossed at them for their trouble. And certainly none as young as that. There had been that girl they called Weasel that tagged along with them, but she'd never spoke a word. It was easy to forget she was even around.

[steeledskin]

Sansa hesitated upon the truth. Could she confess that she has two younger brothers? Or would that spoil everything? Perhaps the truth need only be tweaked by a word or two: "I have half-siblings. Younger ones. But even the youngest was--is never so demanding as our Sweet Robin."

[bullhorned]

But you call him Sweet Robin all the same.

He wondered what she meant by siblings, though. He had seen no other children in the keep so far. Why were they not here with her?

"I don't have anything to give him."

[steeledskin]

"Promise him a toy." Much to her chagrin, her voice came out smug and certain. A little like how Petyr sounded when he seemed to be deliberating a point to her, whenever she was struggling to understand his motives. "He cannot complain about your work in the forge if you're working at his behest."

[bullhorned]

"A toy?" He'd never made toys. For a smith like Tohbo Mott, that was beneath his skill to bother with trinkets. Gendry wasn't anxious to try, but he knew that it was better to ingratiate himself to the little lord. "I can do that. It only means no sharp edges."

[steeledskin]

A servant held open a door that would lead them to a brief walk outside, straight over to the main tower. The High Hall practically took up an entire ground floor.

"A play-sword, perhaps. Lord Robin will never go to war." Sansa doubted he'd live until his next name day. "But he would play at it."

[bullhorned]

It was still strange to have servants who opened doors and tried to blend into the background so as to be unnoticed. It unsettled Gendry, as he'd always tried to do the same around his betters.

But now he was walking with a lady to meet another lord. And she called me Gendry Waters before.

"Even a dull sword can do harm and I don't do woodwork."

[steeledskin]

Who could Robin harm?

But she thought better of the question before she gave it voice. The boy had wrecked so much. She still mourned for her snow castle.

"Armour, then. Or anything. It doesn't matter much."

[bullhorned]

"I could make a helmet. A proper one. Shaped like a falcon."

He thought of his own helmet, now long abandoned. After he made the little lord's helmet, he might try and remake his own.

[steeledskin]

"...Really?"

Mikken had never made armour shaped like anything else. The North was filled with steel, but it was all so stale and serviceable. "Won't that be difficult?"

[bullhorned]

Gendry, for a rare moment, smirked to be able to brag about his own skill. He was no master smith, but he knew well that he was better than most.

"It will take some doing. But my master learned me well. Tohbo Mott was the best smith in the Crownlands."

[steeledskin]

She paused outside the High Hall's doors. They would not be opened until they were both prepared, she decided. And she was still not prepared to share him with the lordling. Robin would grow attached, she suspected, and custom would allow Gendry to spend more time with him than with her. She would lose him.

"How old were you when you were first apprenticed?" Her voice has dropped to a secretive whisper, for fear of alerting the boy beyond the door.