Arya Stark (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
braavosi) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tushanshu_logs2016-02-10 02:45 am
braavosi) wrote in tushanshu_logs2016-02-10 02:45 am
Entry tags:
I won't take this world's abuse | OPEN
Characters: Arya Stark + Raine and others. You? You.
Date: Now-ish
Location: Keeliai, any Sector
Situation: Arya has arrived, but not yet made it to the Welcome Center or the Hotel, so she's going along with her usual routine from Braavos and is begging. Shenanigans ensue. Continuation of Raine's thread from the TDM.
Warnings/Rating: Arya comes with her own host of potential content warnings, see this post in case you'd rather not deal with her.
Will do prose or brackets, feel free to pick whichever you find most comfortable!
There's a young person sitting along one of the busier avenues, just out of reach of the foot traffic but in a good, visible spot. It's hard to tell if she's a boy or a girl at first, because she's dressed in shapeless rags--they're warm and clean, but rags nonetheless--and her head is shorn. There's a plain strip of cloth tied around her head covering her eyes, and she's holding a long walking stick, just a little taller than herself (all of five feet, this one) with leather wrapped just below the top. Just in front of her on the ground is a cracked wooden begging bowl.
She never made it to the Welcome Center. She's spent the last few days trying not to panic, trying to decide if this is a test or if the test is over, and she failed. Has the kindly man sent her away, to this city she doesn't recognize? It's not Braavos, and it doesn't smell like anything she knows. She knows the smells of Lys and Volantis, Pentos and Myr. Even the people smell wrong here, their language wholly alien to ears accustomed to the sounds of different tongues. She's heard the name Keeliai but it's the first time in her life she's heard it. How can that be? Somewhere beyond Essos, then?
But she will not panic. If this is still a test, she will not fail. She will not let them expel her from the House, not forever. So she sits patiently with her bowl and her stick and her dead eyes, and savors the sound of metal clinking in her wooden bowl, and wonders what new kind of food she might be able to try tonight before she finds some corner or back alley of this new city to sleep in.
Date: Now-ish
Location: Keeliai, any Sector
Situation: Arya has arrived, but not yet made it to the Welcome Center or the Hotel, so she's going along with her usual routine from Braavos and is begging. Shenanigans ensue. Continuation of Raine's thread from the TDM.
Warnings/Rating: Arya comes with her own host of potential content warnings, see this post in case you'd rather not deal with her.
Will do prose or brackets, feel free to pick whichever you find most comfortable!
There's a young person sitting along one of the busier avenues, just out of reach of the foot traffic but in a good, visible spot. It's hard to tell if she's a boy or a girl at first, because she's dressed in shapeless rags--they're warm and clean, but rags nonetheless--and her head is shorn. There's a plain strip of cloth tied around her head covering her eyes, and she's holding a long walking stick, just a little taller than herself (all of five feet, this one) with leather wrapped just below the top. Just in front of her on the ground is a cracked wooden begging bowl.
She never made it to the Welcome Center. She's spent the last few days trying not to panic, trying to decide if this is a test or if the test is over, and she failed. Has the kindly man sent her away, to this city she doesn't recognize? It's not Braavos, and it doesn't smell like anything she knows. She knows the smells of Lys and Volantis, Pentos and Myr. Even the people smell wrong here, their language wholly alien to ears accustomed to the sounds of different tongues. She's heard the name Keeliai but it's the first time in her life she's heard it. How can that be? Somewhere beyond Essos, then?
But she will not panic. If this is still a test, she will not fail. She will not let them expel her from the House, not forever. So she sits patiently with her bowl and her stick and her dead eyes, and savors the sound of metal clinking in her wooden bowl, and wonders what new kind of food she might be able to try tonight before she finds some corner or back alley of this new city to sleep in.
no subject
And that is when he spots the...child or very tiny young adult huddled near the avenue there. Enjolras changes directions immediately, coming to a stop near her, but far away enough she'll not feel crowded, especially when he notices the bandages and stick.
Instead of saying anything at first, he clears his throat, hoping to give her time to get used to his presence, and waits a moment before he speaks.
"You are new." It's more statement than question. "And you need something to eat, I think. I could help you with that, if you'd allow me." He hopes it's not offending her pride to ask, mindful of Gavroche and Midii and what they might prefer someone offering them a leg up says to them. He hopes he's managed well so far.
no subject
That's why he's out on the streets, doing what he knows. His head is bent low, honing his olfactory sensors to the scents of the city and it's people, when he picks up a strange smell, telling him that a Foreigner was near. He keeps sniffing until he comes across a vaguely humanoid shape, dressed in rags. It has the same energy readout that all Foreigners he's encountered thus far have had, telling him that...whoever this was had a soul gem, like his own. He plops himself down next to the person, curious.
"You are...new to city, yes? While I understand the nature of begging and panhandling, I question it's necessity, when there are services made available to those of us not native to this place."