video; un: sharp

[veneries]

[It's been barely a day since everyone was brought up to the station, leaving time frozen down on the planet. With a life uprooted so quickly and without warning, with the destruction the dragon had begun to rain down on their homes, it's not surprising that some people might need a little more time to come to terms with everything that's happened.]

Well, I'm bored already.

[Or not.

With a slightly dramatic sigh:] After that excitement with the dragon things are pretty dull up here, wouldn't you say? [Of course you would. Ramsay is as right about this as he is about everything.] It's all so... quiet. And- [He makes a face. Yuck.

But an idea dawns on him and he quickly perks up.] Since we're all stuck up here with nowhere to go and no way to get away from each other, why don't we find a pleasant way to pass the time? I feel I know hardly any of you.

[He's practically beaming.] Anyone know any good games?

Comments

[veneries]

[Ramsay is about to tell a story of a man he'd seen hung when he was a boy (it was very funny) but he stops when the man reveals this game isn't actually about that.

But he has hope-]

And what happens after you lose?

[pluspetitpoete]

We switch and play again?

Though when it was made, it was used at executions. They'd make criminals try and solve the puzzle for the chance at a pardon, or a favour perhaps. But if they lost, then they were hanged straight away.

I don't think many of them won.

But now it's mostly played in pubs and things, rather than for killing people. You'd lose your gaming partners quite quickly, that way!

[veneries]

[It was too much to hope for, but the story that goes with it makes for quite an entertaining thought. He'll have to play it with Reek sometime.]

But there must be some stakes, just for interest. Say... whoever is hanged the most must buy the other a drink.

[pluspetitpoete]

Oh! I think those would be fine stakes, yes. I can agree to those.

Shall I think of a word, to show you how the game is done?

[veneries]

[Everything about this person exudes sweet summer child]

All right. Let's see how it goes.

[pluspetitpoete]

All right! [He scribbles a quick little hangman's noose on his paper, then carefully draws out seven spaces

_ _ _ _ _ _ _

before he holds the paper up to his camera]

And now you guess your first letter!

[veneries]

[I mean it's not the kind of game he usually plays but here goes nothing.]

A. First letter, stands to reason it ought to be there.

[pluspetitpoete]

That is a correct guess! Is it the first letter in your alphabet too? I'm not sure what all translates, it's a bit of a mystery to me.

[His paper now reads

_ _ A _ _ _ _]

[veneries]

[He scoffs, while looking pleased that he's successful already.] Are you some kind of Maester? Letters are letters, who'd put them in a different order? [It's a rhetorical question, he doesn't care.]

The next- T.

[pluspetitpoete]

Is that like a teacher? I am not, though I was getting my degree in languages.

Oh no! No T, I'm very sorry. [The noose gets a head underneath it]

[veneries]

[He'd comment on the "degree in langages" but that head has Ramsay scowling darkly.]

Fine. R.

[pluspetitpoete]

There's one of those! [_RA_ _ _ _ for Ramsay!]

[veneries]

P.




[He's already taking this too seriously.]

[pluspetitpoete]

[A little line body for the stick figure hangman. Things are looking grim, perhaps more for Jehan than for the stick figure man] Sorry, no P.

[veneries]

This is a fucking stupid game. [He's not a sore loser you're a sore loser.]

M.

[pluspetitpoete]

[A stick figure arm and Jehan is starting to look genuinely concerned] We could play something else?

[veneries]

How's a man supposed to guess enough letters before the man's hung? There are too many.

[pluspetitpoete]

Generally speaking, you look at the word you're making and try to make it out from there? Like it starts with something, and then goes R and A, and then -- [He sounds a bit nervous now]

You don't need to guess all the letters in the alphabet. For example there probably isn't a Z?

[veneries]

[His scowl doesn't budge.]

Is there a Z?

[pluspetitpoete]

[He won't draw a second arm, he won't count that as a guess, because that scowl is terrifying.] No, no there is not.

[veneries]

[Ramsay's going to flat the fingers from this man and shove pencils in his eyes.]

Well how about a fucking N?

[pluspetitpoete]

Yes! [Oh he's genuinely excited to be able to write that N down.

_RA_ _ N_]

[veneries]

[Ramsay is not yet sure that one correct letter makes up for this being a stupid game, but he ponders the next letter without question.]

I?

[pluspetitpoete]

[... oh dear. A very slow, very sad stick figure arm is drawn]

[veneries]

[........]

C.