Asha Greyjoy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
doesnotsew) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2013-05-22 02:11 pm
doesnotsew) wrote in thecapitol2013-05-22 02:11 pm
Entry tags:
let the dead bury their dead [open]
Who| Asha and you!
What| Waking up and getting familiar with all this technology
Where| District 11 suite and training center!
When| Backdated to either the day after Timaeus's party (so during Week 6!) OR after the arena's ended, but this can also be a catch-all post for whenever your character is around!
Warnings/Notes| how is technology formed
She woke up the morning after the night on the boat expecting it all to have been a dream-- maybe to wake up still in the arena, or find that it was a last-second hallucination before joining the rest of the dead. What she had instead was a hangover, which meant she was very much alive. The room she was in was too neat, not a hint of a draft or moisture in the air, everything about the surroundings slightly foreign in a way she couldn't put her finger on. She left the bed immediately-- still no wounds, besides her headache, and a quick glance about her body reveals that not only is she missing minor scratches that she knew she received, she's clean in a way that not even the golden twins in King's Landing could achieve. Even the smallclothes she wore were unusual, like those she wore during the battle. Better to wear the boiled leather, she thought with a laugh, but then remembered that her brother must be dead by now.
Judging by the view from the window, she was fairly high up-- that combined with the exceptionally clear glass in the frame put her in a particularly important keep. The rest of the sights were dizzying, and she turned away rather than fight the glare. She needed a drink-- preferably spring water, she added as an afterthought-- and some answers. One door yielded to a wardrobe, from which she took the closest to a tunic she could find-- more like a dress cut in a strange style, but it gave her the maneuverability she needed. Boots were more difficult, but she had no time to waste picking over her footwear; she pulled one pair on, ignoring an assortment of things that didn't even resemble shoes, and went to find the other door surprisingly unlocked.
She found herself in another room, with one of the strange windows still showing the arena. Was it magic, or is this just more of their 'technology?' She recognized the area, and once or twice a person-- had she been here too? The thought sent a chill down her spine, and she reached out to touch it, just to get a sense...
Five minutes later, the thing had shattered, and she had moved on to pacing the room in increasing frustration, trying to find the stairs, figure out the candles on the wall, and most of all, trying to find a weapon. If the crackling noise from the thing breaking and her heavy stream of curses didn't get the attention of anyone else in the suite, her trying to force her way into the other rooms just might.
---
She'd learned a lot in the next few weeks, but it still wasn't enough to get home. However, it didn't take her long to find the one place she had access to her weapons, even if she couldn't leave with them. She spent a lot of time in the training room, for the security granted to her by an ax and a dagger, but also as a place to escape the world she woke up in. Training was training, unlike everything else here.
She tossed the throwing ax end over end to catch it with her usual skill, something to keep her fingers busy and her mind on home, before whipping it at a target. Stannis Baratheon, it would be today; in her mind, she pictured the people keeping them here the same way. "What's dead may never die," she muttered, pulling the ax from the dummy, "but rises, again and again and again."
Slashing it felt good, but it would be better if he were real.
What| Waking up and getting familiar with all this technology
Where| District 11 suite and training center!
When| Backdated to either the day after Timaeus's party (so during Week 6!) OR after the arena's ended, but this can also be a catch-all post for whenever your character is around!
Warnings/Notes| how is technology formed
She woke up the morning after the night on the boat expecting it all to have been a dream-- maybe to wake up still in the arena, or find that it was a last-second hallucination before joining the rest of the dead. What she had instead was a hangover, which meant she was very much alive. The room she was in was too neat, not a hint of a draft or moisture in the air, everything about the surroundings slightly foreign in a way she couldn't put her finger on. She left the bed immediately-- still no wounds, besides her headache, and a quick glance about her body reveals that not only is she missing minor scratches that she knew she received, she's clean in a way that not even the golden twins in King's Landing could achieve. Even the smallclothes she wore were unusual, like those she wore during the battle. Better to wear the boiled leather, she thought with a laugh, but then remembered that her brother must be dead by now.
Judging by the view from the window, she was fairly high up-- that combined with the exceptionally clear glass in the frame put her in a particularly important keep. The rest of the sights were dizzying, and she turned away rather than fight the glare. She needed a drink-- preferably spring water, she added as an afterthought-- and some answers. One door yielded to a wardrobe, from which she took the closest to a tunic she could find-- more like a dress cut in a strange style, but it gave her the maneuverability she needed. Boots were more difficult, but she had no time to waste picking over her footwear; she pulled one pair on, ignoring an assortment of things that didn't even resemble shoes, and went to find the other door surprisingly unlocked.
She found herself in another room, with one of the strange windows still showing the arena. Was it magic, or is this just more of their 'technology?' She recognized the area, and once or twice a person-- had she been here too? The thought sent a chill down her spine, and she reached out to touch it, just to get a sense...
Five minutes later, the thing had shattered, and she had moved on to pacing the room in increasing frustration, trying to find the stairs, figure out the candles on the wall, and most of all, trying to find a weapon. If the crackling noise from the thing breaking and her heavy stream of curses didn't get the attention of anyone else in the suite, her trying to force her way into the other rooms just might.
---
She'd learned a lot in the next few weeks, but it still wasn't enough to get home. However, it didn't take her long to find the one place she had access to her weapons, even if she couldn't leave with them. She spent a lot of time in the training room, for the security granted to her by an ax and a dagger, but also as a place to escape the world she woke up in. Training was training, unlike everything else here.
She tossed the throwing ax end over end to catch it with her usual skill, something to keep her fingers busy and her mind on home, before whipping it at a target. Stannis Baratheon, it would be today; in her mind, she pictured the people keeping them here the same way. "What's dead may never die," she muttered, pulling the ax from the dummy, "but rises, again and again and again."
Slashing it felt good, but it would be better if he were real.
no subject
"I kinda noticed that." She glanced back at the rooms. "Is that why you're breaking into mine?"
no subject
Not that she made a move to leave, of course.
no subject
no subject
Sorry. Was in Israel. Then my Dad died.
"You bee here long?"
oof, hope everything's going okay!
It's.... Hm. :(