Entry tags:
- bioshock infinite: rosalind lutece,
- dragonball: kale,
- got: jon snow,
- got: loras tyrell,
- got: ramsay bolton,
- got: stannis baratheon,
- got: theon greyjoy,
- homestuck: rose lalonde,
- jjba: ermes costello,
- metal gear: adamska (revolver ocelot),
- outlander: claire fraser,
- parks and rec: andy dwyer,
- star wars: meetra surik/the exile,
- voltron: keith
video; un: ironborn
I’ll not congratulate anyone for the beginnings of this cure.
[ Oh, look, it's that guy who pisses everyone off. The corner of his mouth quirks into a cruel smirk, but his teeth are clenched too tightly and his eyes burn too fiercely for any proper smile. It’s a struggle for him to remain as guarded as he would prefer, and there are cracks in his armor: he’s clearly angry and upset. ]
My sister was among the ill. Was. I have been informed that she has since returned to the pods—still uncured.
[ He tries to keep his tone even and cold, void of emotion, but his voice breaks ever so slightly. He and Asha weren’t close, not like he’s known siblings should be, but it’s a deep cut to be abandoned again, and it hurts to know that one of the few people he felt he could trust in this place is gone. Clearing his throat, he continues.]
Which leads me to the question at hand. What reason do I, or the worried, or any of the ailing, have to trust the maesters here? Healers--whatever name you may know them by. Months, this has gone on, to the point where someone is gone and remains unhealed.
[ He knows better than to critique those who have done nothing but help, but his anger is directionless otherwise, so he chuckles cruelly, and that cheshire smirk widens. ]
They’ve been all but useless.
[ Oh, look, it's that guy who pisses everyone off. The corner of his mouth quirks into a cruel smirk, but his teeth are clenched too tightly and his eyes burn too fiercely for any proper smile. It’s a struggle for him to remain as guarded as he would prefer, and there are cracks in his armor: he’s clearly angry and upset. ]
My sister was among the ill. Was. I have been informed that she has since returned to the pods—still uncured.
[ He tries to keep his tone even and cold, void of emotion, but his voice breaks ever so slightly. He and Asha weren’t close, not like he’s known siblings should be, but it’s a deep cut to be abandoned again, and it hurts to know that one of the few people he felt he could trust in this place is gone. Clearing his throat, he continues.]
Which leads me to the question at hand. What reason do I, or the worried, or any of the ailing, have to trust the maesters here? Healers--whatever name you may know them by. Months, this has gone on, to the point where someone is gone and remains unhealed.
[ He knows better than to critique those who have done nothing but help, but his anger is directionless otherwise, so he chuckles cruelly, and that cheshire smirk widens. ]
They’ve been all but useless.

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[ He doesn’t know what a Poverty Row tearjerker is, and he’s growing frustrated. More frustrated, that is. He doesn’t wish to get into a row with a sick man. ]
I am not attempting to make you feel any better.
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[ A pause. ]
I know your name isn't Sally.
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[ ....I mean, that's good at least. ]
At least you know that much.
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[ At least get it right, man. He won't have some rando calling him Sal. ]
Get that through your skull and you'll have learned something more.
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Asha's brother?
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[ He wonders if it's wrong for him to be as envious as he is. People tend to find Asha so much more likable, while Theon...Theon is a difficult pill to swallow. ]
What's she said about me, then?
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[ That was basically it. ]
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[ Actually, he was a bit concerned she might have said more to paint him in a bad light, but he's already done that himself. ]
I don't have much more to say about her either.
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[ Not anymore, anyway. Now he feels vaguely guilty, maybe because the illness is turning his feelings dizzy, or maybe because he hasn't thought of his sister in a while. In any case, he forgets to add something insulting. ]
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[ At his age, it's almost a naive comment to make, but he grew up with the Starks. He had to watch this close-knit family from the outskirts. Even baseborn Jon Snow had been pulled into the pack by his siblings, and he was fortunate enough to be raised by the man he believe was his father. Theon had never known what it was like to be a part of a family like that. ]
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[ He says it like a dare— he hated the pity he got, when he was younger, the sorry look in people's eyes about his poor dead parents, so he made that into something he could fight with.
Of course, he can't fight now, only cough. Which he does.
They'd shipped his sister off when his dad died, too, and he had always been bad about writing her. Now she was stuck in one of those creepy pods, just like Asha, apparently. ]
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[ He can imply as much, but maybe he's wrong. He doesn’t offer pity. There really isn’t even a flash of it in his eyes. He's curious, mainly. There were plenty of orphans in Westeros, and plenty of baseborn children who went ignored by their noble parents. It may be selfish, but Theon thinks mainly of himself and how he always felt like the odd one out in all of that: someone who knows his family, but only an outdated image of them. His father seldom wrote, and his mother and sister never did. He was all but walled off from them in Winterfell. He didn’t get the opportunity to become the man they expected him to be. ]
Where did they send you afterwards?
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They kept me on base. [ He still isn't sure why. "It's what your pa would have wanted," is what they told him, but that didn't make too much sense, now that he's older. ] They sent my sister away.
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For what reason were you separated? Lack of supplies for two?
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[ A pause. ]
Why'd they split you two up? If Asha's your sister, and all.
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Because my father rebelled against the crown, and the punishment was for his last remaining heir to be sent away.
[ He’s told the story dozens of times the years. He’s hardly fazed as he relays it once more, but he’s angry. He’s always been angry. It always seemed so backwards and never seemed fair, even by Westerosi standards. ]
I was an incentive for his good behavior. If he rebelled again, I was to be beheaded.
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A hostage situation. [ Not that he has any experience with that. And that was true, after a fashion— he'd never been held that long, for that purpose. Still, by his logic, by military protocol, what you do when you get captured ]
But that doesn't give any incentive for your good behavior, does it?
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He shrugs. ]
I was expected to be polite and gracious to my hosts. The provided me with all I needed. I was not mistreated.
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[ He sighs, suddenly looking exhausted. He’s always struggled with this, always wanted to hate the Starks for being his captors, but never could. Instead, he just wanted to be one of them and longed for their affection rather than their distance. ]
But it was expected that the son of a Lord be treated as such, until someone caught word of rebellion. It was just how things worked in my world. You can speak to Lord Stannis, if you care for an in-depth explanation of Westerosi law. He seems to care deeply for it.
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Yeah? Which one's he?
[ Especially for someone who's seeing double half the time, it's hard to keep all the King Arthur's Court types straight. ]
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The one who insists on typing every message he sends on the network in all uppercase letters.
[ Can't miss him...or you couldn't, before Ned Stark showed up. ]
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[ He doesn't look particularly happy about that. Stannis and his "two Westeroses" theory seems to be accepted by everyone but Theon. ]
Half mad, he is.
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