Call me Out

[dammitmasa]

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

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code by cawaii
- Refer to the list above for an active muse. -
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- 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]

Colemon supplied his answers: "The carts will have to be taken out from storage. The household will have to pack. We ought to warn them of it tonight, independent of Lord Robin's decision in the morning. Fallon, the steward's nephew, will help you."

Sansa cut a narrow wedge into her tart and pulled it out from the larger circle. Half a bite's worth, maybe. But before she brought it to her mouth, she added: "We will need to take a few things from the library."

[bullhorned]

Books. What are books good for?

But he nodded dutifully. "Aye. I'll find Fallon."

With his plate finished, he sat back again and marveled. It was a strange thing to have a voice, even a small one, in the company of lords, ladies, and wise maesters. He'd never get used to this. He also suspected he'd never live long enough to.

[steeledskin]

...Even if they left the Eyrie, she believed he still needed to learn certain things. If he was to claim his blood even in some tiny capacity, he would need to know words. Places. Maybe even histories. If his attitude towards food was any indication, she also suspected fee would require a steady hand to keep him from filling his lessons with the literary equivalent of sweets. She hat no doubt he would be like Arya: interested in all the wrong things.


But whose interests had turned out to be wrong in the end? Sansa frowned. All her fairy tales had failed her.

"I have my own things to pack," she announced, standing from her chair in one motion.

[bullhorned]

He watched her rise with mixed feelings. But there was little gained in objecting. So instead he licked the pit of tart off his thumb and stood.

"I should see to the forge. M'lord, m'lady." He nodded at each one respectively. "Thank you for the feast."