agentleooc | tdm 05

Entry tags:

!modpost,
!tdm

tdm 05

Though all the scars are healing
you’re always biting back
You know the struggle's real
I lie down then you attack

► All TDM threads may be considered canon provided both parties agree and are accepted into the game.

► Canon threads may be redeemed for influence and reputation depending on how you solve the issue at hand or how you engage with the prompt. They also count toward AC.

► Feel free to switch up your character's Jewel from thread to thread. Get a feel for how a Birthright Jewel may limit or enhance your character's abilities.

THE WAREHOUSE JOB
Master Tinker Mari is in a tizzy. Last night, supplies from her personal warehouse in Wall Town went missing. And not just any supplies. These supplies were prototype items fashioned for a project she’s working on for Grand Master Niall.

Having left multiple messages on Draega’s far-caster network, she’s finally gotten you to help her. She asks you to investigate the warehouse and track down her missing supplies. By the way, don’t try to crack the boxes. They’re lined with lead to protect you from some of the dangerous, uh, stuff (as she says) inside.

At the warehouse, you find the lock on the back door has been picked. From the door, you can see that no windows look into the alley, so no one could have seen the culprit. Inside the warehouse, you discover a floor covered in a white powder, but none of it has been disturbed except where the door swung inward. On the floor, an area clean of powder reveals where the boxes once stood. They could not have been dragged out of the warehouse. If they had, the powder would have been disturbed. Near the back wall, hidden by shadow, you discover a little glob of silt. Someone tracked this in from the docks.

Landens and Blood worked together to steal these items, and you suspect mercenaries are responsible. Do you go to the docks to investigate, or do you turn this information over to the Guilds and let them deal with this problem on their own? No one would blame you for the latter: if landens and Blood are working together, there are certainly muters on the mercenary ship where Mari’s supplies have been taken. Dare you take matters of the law into your own hands?

WILD WILD MEN
It’s nearly dusk. Pink and blue rays from the sun pierce a haze of sand on the horizon, obscuring the sunset and painting the sky with pastels. The world seems blurry and depth becomes an illusion. You know to be wary: this is the time when the wildmen come out of the hills to the south and west of Draega.

You’re standing guard at a farm where the spring planting is just mature enough that it could be pulled in. This is a dangerous time for the farmers. They can’t defend themselves against the wildmen that raid their fields, and there aren’t enough guards from the Queen’s First Circle to protect everyone.

A scream comes from the hills. It echoes through the still, night air. Wildmen dressed in rags and furs appear on the plains before you, their sight shields dropping. None of them wear a Jewel darker than Summer-sky, but they are all wild-eyed with rage and hunger. Subdue them however you can, but be sure to protect the fields at your back.

SPRING CLEANING
After the madness of the Black Widow coven invading Draega, Lady Fayura has asked Strangers to help weave cleansing webs. Just as there are webs that ensnare and damage the mind, there are webs that heal them, too.

She invites Strangers who have left the Residence to come spend the morning in her private garden, where she teaches them how to weave cleansing webs. These are simpler webs, built like spirals that trap oppressive psychic energy and purifies the air, removing those dark feelings. As she teaches you, she explains that the landens and slums were hit the hardest by the coven’s attack and that the most psychic damage was done in the slums and the area around the Guilds.

You could, she suggests, leave your cleansing webs there, but if you do, you can expect resistance. Strangers wear Jewels, and they will be viewed with distrust and wariness in the slums especially. The Guilds, she says, insist they can take care of their own, but this kind of psychic damage requires a web to help repair it.

The Blood in River East clamor for cleansing webs. Once, there were many more Black Widows, but that caste was nearly wiped out in the Cataclysm. There are few Black Widows among the Blood in River East who can do what Fayura teaches the Strangers, and the Blood are particularly susceptible to lingering psychic malevolence. If the effects of the webs aren’t removed, the Blood will twist and become even more dangerous than they already are. At least they won’t try to chase the Strangers out of River East.

But who you help is up to you. The choice is yours, Stranger.

AIR TIME
Whether you catch the news on a Far-caster in the city or you're spinning the dial on your own device, you'll hear…

etiquette with evandra and aren
[Evandra's voice is a little bit rough and a little bit husky, the kind of voice that gives bad ideas to young men and headaches to fathers.] I admit: I'm a bit confused. Can anyone learn how to be a Black Widow?

[Aren's boyish voice is cheerful and amused.] Anyone can learn how to weave a tangled web. Indeed, Healers weave webs to make their healing more effective. Even though you can learn the Craft, that will never make you a Black Widow. You won't spontaneously manifest a snake tooth, for example!

[Evandra:] Well, that's a relief! We certainly don't need more chance encounters that leave us poisoned!

[Aren:] Quite so, Evandra! And recovering from a Black Widow's venom is a grueling process. There are few things more deadly.

[Evandra:] Let's take a minute to discuss antivenin and how our listeners can brew their own at home.

the weather
[A soft-spoken man’s voice rumbles out of the Far-caster. He’s pleasant to listen to, with a soothing cadence to his voice.] …plenty of sun over the next few days. It's the perfect time for taking in the spring harvest. With all this sun, consider purchasing Sun Shield, a new cream produced by the Medico and Crafter Guilds to protect your skin from…

the news
[The man speaks at a brisk pace, hurried and harried as though he has too much to say and not enough time to say it.] News from the Queen's Court suggests that we'll soon know who attacked the city two weeks ago.

[Another man, nasally in tone. He doesn’t sound rushed so much as put upon.] That’s right, Garret. The Strangers have been investigating the Black Widow coven responsible for breaking a young witch and placing malicious tangled webs throughout the city.

[Garret:] A handful of suspects are being held in the Queen's Residence as deliberations take place. The Strangers…

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It wasn't a kind death. I had nothing to do with it, though, even though I was blamed for it. Tyrion and I had nothing to do with killing him. I might have thought about my life being better if he died in battle but I'd never harm him.

( Sansa doesn't know why she's apologizing for Joffrey now but she feels the need to, especially when Jaime is fighting for her. )

I know it wasn't your fault. [ He says this with sureness; he isn't bluffing, and he isn't saying it to comfort her, he's saying it because he knows who did it in the first place. There's a finality to his tone, though, that indicates he's more or less done with the topic. ]

I'm not here to kill you, Sansa Stark. I'm here to "help save the world".

[ And I swore an oath to your mother that I'd protect you. ]

It's likely I've hit my limit of webs, though. [ He cocks his head to the side, thoughtful, before looking down at his flesh fingers. ] My hand is still shaking.

Rest it, then, before I have to go and heal it.

( His words about not being there to kill her intrigue her, though, and she tips her head a bit as she examines him. He's well capable of killing her, if he wanted to. This is a man who killed a king, after all, and so many other men besides. Ser Jaime Lannister is formidable, even without his right hand. )

You would kill me, though, should I get in the way of something you needed. Someone you needed to protect. If I came after Cersei, you'd kill me. If you came after Jon or Arya or Bran, I'd kill you. Wolves and lions are not so very different, Ser Jaime, except that wolves fight together.

[ He chuckles, amused. Chuckles and turns his head and tilts it back for good measure, one brow raised in the faintest question. ]

Do you think it wise to discuss the reasons we might kill each other when we're meant to work together?

Perhaps it's best we're simply honest with one another. I respect honesty more these days than pretty courtesies. If I told you that I was so glad you were here, that I was so happy you were going to protect me - you'd know that was a lie, wouldn't you?

( Sansa shrugs one shoulder elegantly and draws closer, reaching out and touching his left hand. )

Be honest with me and I'll be honest with you. We have the same goals, I think, and as long as those goals don't hurt my family, I will help you achieve them.

[ Her fingers brush over his skin and Jaime almost pulls away-- almost, except he has the self-control not to, and it's not like Sansa Stark is going to murder him before they go to save Winterfell. ] I just don't want the dead to march south and end the world.

[ Blue eyes flick upward, meeting Sansa's, and he turns his hand over to offer his palm. It's shaking, still, in the smallest tremors. The tips of his fingers crackle with small bits of green. ]

I'm not going to kill you. [ You and your sister are the only ones I've ever sworn not to harm. ] We're going to save this blasted kingdom and then go home.

We are. I have faith in us. Now, about this hand...I think you've overdone it on webs for just now. Let me try and stabilize it a bit, all right?

( Sansa only wears Purple Dusk but she's been learning how to heal and this is something she's better at than weaving webs. )

[ 'Stabilise'. Jaime almost asks when it was Sansa decided to become a maester, but keeps his mouth shut from any of that nonsense.

Instead, like a normal person, he says, ] All right. [ And ignores the fact there's another crackle of green at his fingertips. ]

( Sansa imagines a bandage, of sorts, stabilizing his wrist and helping to take the pressure off it. It's only supported by her Purple Dusk, yes, but if he doesn't try doing anything spectacular with it, she thinks it'll hold. )

There you are. If it starts hurting again, you can come find me. I'll help you or have one of my friends do it - Zita wears the Green, she'll have more power.

I'm not entirely sure who Zita is. [ But he does give his steady hand a curious look. Turning it over, he feels some slight stiffness-- something firm and proper in his forearm. It's a curious feeling. (It's a magic feeling, if he has to be specific about it.) ]

Hm. [ Jaime doesn't know how to feel about magic, but it seems to be useful enough. ] I suppose I should be done here then, shouldn't I?

[ A very small part of him considers saying 'thank you'. Another part of him says probably not. ]

You should be done for now. If you drain too much of your strength with that Jewel, it'll have adverse effects. I did that the first moon I was here and it wasn't pleasant.

( Sansa gives him a quick nod, an acknowledgement of his strength and, honestly, of the person he's seem to have become in the years since she's seen him last. )

You were one of the better ones. I know your family did awful things to mine, I know, but that was Cersei and that was Tywin. I am willing to give you a chance because Tyrion believes in you. Please don't make me regret that?

[ Though Jaime takes note of her advice not to force himself, he finds his head turning sharply at the word better. The edges of his eyes move in slightly, his brows tightening in the smallest measure, but he says nothing to disprove it. (Not yet, anyway.) ]

I can only be the man I am, Lady Sansa. [ The expression he wears isn't quite grim, but it isn't quite happy, either. The man he is isn't better, isn't even good; she'll know this, maybe, in time. She'll know that Tyrion believes in him for a lie, and Jaime has never deserved him. ]

But I promise not to hurt you. And I'll help where I can.

I pledged to ride North to help you. In a way, if you believe in that sort of poetic nonsense, this place is part of that journey, anyway.

[ With that, Jaime moves to get to his feet, left hand pressed to the ground and knees straightening as he stands at his full height. ]

Will you stay here?

I'll be heading back to my rooms if you'd like to escort me. I don't like to travel in the city without an escort - it can be dangerous, from time to time.

( Sansa offers her arm to him, should he wish to take it. If she's going to trust him, she ought to do it fully because neither of them have the status in Draega that they'd had in Westeros. )

[ The offer isn't what he expected. He knows that Sansa is trying to trust him, to give him the benefit of the doubt, but to want him to walk her home?

Jaime looks suspicious for all of a moment before he links their arms together, her left and his right. ]

Dangerous enough you'd want to walk around with me. [ He sounds incredulous about it. ]

A little girl had her mind burned out a few weeks ago. This is a dangerous place - You wear the Green. I wear Purple Dusk. It would take you less than ten minutes to destroy me, if you wanted. If you haven't killed me already, Jaime Lannister, you're not going to do it now. And, if you do, then I learned my lessons too slow.

( As a point, Sansa keeps her arm linked in his. )

You've a funny fixation with the thought of me killing you, Lady Sansa. [ But he doesn't argue against the pressure of her arm, walking from their place towards the direction he remembers the Queen's home being in the map he'd studied.

Jaime is no good with lessons, this much is true. But there is nothing more difficult than memorising the Seven Kingdoms, and this place had been incredibly easy in comparison. ]

Is it a comfort or a worry that I haven't mastered my Jewel yet?

I have a fixation on everyone killing me, Ser Jaime. You're not unique in that regard. I am afraid that my time with your sister left an indelible mark on me and I look for a dagger in my back at all times.

( It's a weakness of hers, she knows, but Sansa cannot shake it. She knows the paranoia is something she'd developed through Cersei and Baelish and she needs to learn to trust people again. )

And it's neither a comfort nor a worry. You should learn it, I think, as it's a gift to help us along in this world. Some of Fayura's court are helpful, in that regard, but I think the Strangers who have been here longest will be the most help.

I don't care for "strangers" much. [ An understatement, certainly, given Jaime's not one for talking to other people in general. But he understands her point, in some way or other; he'd never really believed in magic as a boy, but he can understand its benefits (even if for the most part he understands the parts of it that are terrible to the core). ]

I'd assume a gift of power would come with instruction. But I suppose these scattered lessons must be it, aren't they?

If you have a particular interest, you can seek out an expert. Lady Abigail is the expert on webs. Lady Jesiree is the Healer for the Queen's First Circle and I've taken a few lessons with her. I don't see you as a healer, though.

( Sansa can only see Ser Jaime as just that - a knight. She wonders what the equivalent of that is in Draega. )

I doubt I'd do well at either of those. [ Jaime is only saying it as he understands it. He lifts his flesh hand slightly, still feeling Sansa's Craft on him, and clicks his tongue. He's certainly not built for webs, at the very least. ]

They both seem to require a mastery of calm that I'm incapable of channelling.

There's training every morning at the Queen's Residence. You could try and channel your Craft into it, make up for your deficits, and then teach others? You were once a formidable swordsman.

( Sansa knows he's legendary, the Kingslayer, and she thinks he's likely still very good now even without his sword hand. )

I, for one, would welcome extra help. I'm terrible at fighting.

[ Jaime makes a face, head tilting slightly. ] I don't know that I have the patience for tutoring. I barely have the patience to cope with myself.

[ It's not something he's proud of, that he can't fight any more. Jaime's expression stays sour for a bit longer before he shakes his head. ]

I've tried training, before. With my left. It just doesn't work.

You could still teach others and tell them where they are making mistakes. You have great knowledge, Ser Jaime. It would be a waste not to share it. It'd be like Lord Tyrion drinking in a corner and not sharing his brilliant mind.

( Sansa has seen him do that very thing, actually, and it had been a pity even if she hadn't recognized it to be one at the time. )

There's something you'll take to, I'm sure of it.

[ The image of Tyrion, sad and drinking, hits him harder than it should. Jaime's jaw twitches, and he thinks that if Tyrion is here, then he needs to be able to protect him.

And so he says: ] Yes, perhaps.

[ If anything, without an army to command, Jaime has no choice but to learn fighting on his own again. For Cersei, for Tyrion, for life. ]

Let's just hope I find it sooner rather than later.

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tdm 05

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