It all goes so well when people don't see you, so it's easier to hide away. And why wouldn't you want to keep away from the eyes of others? You're hideous to the world at large, despite your own opinions of yourself, no matter if you're human or otherwise. You don't appear to be anything most would want to be around, much less befriend. If you're human, your appearance could be chalked up to mutation, a freak chance at birth, or an an accident later in life; if you're not human, you just happen to exist in a place where those who look like you would never be accepted by the mainstream. Maybe it's not even your whole appearance, though. Your point of contention could be something like an injury or prosthetic that makes you feel not whole, though it may be insignificant in the view of the kind and open-minded. There's more comfort in covering that up and not letting anyone get close.
In any case, you don't expect someone to love you, be attracted to you, or even want to be with you, especially a beautiful someone. Yet somehow, somebody does...or, at least, it seems that way. Will this new development last? Can you put your demons at bay long enough for it to do so?
HOW TO PLAY
- Comment with your character, canon, preferences, and whether or not you want shipping only or smut. Also, information about what side your character fits into best is imperative!
- Reply to others.
- Use the RNG to determine your prompt or choose your own.
PROMPTS
- Meeting | You've never seen anyone who doesn't balk at your appearance, but they don't.
- Growing Close | It starts as a friendship or an alliance, the grows to- more?
- Jealousy | There's no way they could see you as anything special. Surely, they have someone more handsome or beautiful in their sights.
- Realizing Feeling | At first, you didn't realize how your heart was feeling just by them being around, but now it's becoming clear: you're falling for them.
- Can't Tell Them | You'll ruin your bond with them should you tell them how you really feel. They'll be disgusted, so you'll keep mum.
- Touch | They touch you without a hint of distaste, which could be a big plus compared to what you usually deal with.
- No Difference | Actually, they can't tell that you're different, due to lack of vision or something similar. All they can discern is your personality.
- The Way It Used to Be | You didn't use to look this way, and it's hard to come to terms with your new look and how it affects
- Confession | You can't keep in your emotions anymore, or they accidentally get revealed.
- Good | They share your feelings! You never could have imagined this, but you couldn't ask for more.
- Bad | ...oh, you thought they...oh, they're so sorry.
- Scared | "Friendship" nor a "relationship" was never on their mind. In fact, they're scared of you.
- Cruel | All of their supposed kindness was actually just them using you for their benefit. To think, you really believed they cared about you!
- Defense | They step on the line for you, standing up to those who'd consider you a monster or somehow lesser.
- Uncovered | You're exposed and they can see everything you've tried to hide. You want to crawl into a hole and die. They want to keep you from feeling that way.
- Shouldn't Be | People oppose your relationship, and there may be some points to the arguments.
- Intimacy | Even being close, which most take for granted, could be a new and possibly uncomfortable event for you.
- Smut | The obligatory smut option, with all the baggage, angst, and difficulties that may come with it.
- Misunderstanding | You heard them insinuate that you're nothing but the ugly outside, or, at least, that's what you think came out.
- Bad End | The messy breakup option...or worse.
- Good End | The happy ending option...or better.
- WILDCARD
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ladys_night) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
bakerstreet2015-07-12 09:53 am
Wanda Maximoff aka 'Scarlet Witch' | Avengers | OTA
kitano seiichirou | angel densetsu | m/f
Sheryl Nome | Macross Frontier
Todd Tolansky/Toad | X-men: Evolution | OTA
Kurt Waggoner | X-treme X-men | OTA
Roj Blake | Blake's 7 | OTA
Nephrite | PGSM
14. Defense
"That isn't fair, Mako-chan!" The sound of Ami actually upset enough to raise her voice had the desired effect. Makoto stared at her for a moment. "You know what happened, and ever since then, he hasn't done anything mean at all!"
They all knew what had happened. They had all been there. They had all been too stunned to intervene when Beryl had decided to eliminate Nephrite, and forced him to do it with his own weapon, by his own hand. It had been horrible.
Ever since then, Ami was sure Motoki had been right: Nephrite was just a boy who needed some understanding, and quite possibly some kindness. Makoto hadn't been able to forget Nephrite had once been a part of the Dark Kingdom.
That was the problem, really. Ami had once been a part of the Dark Kingdom, and no amount of waving it away from Usagi or from Makoto with excuses about Metalia's energy or Kunzite's brainwashing made it any different than this situation.
"So don't talk about him like that!"
Nephrite wasn't supposed to overhear it. But as she walked out with some transparent excuse about needing to study, Ami had no idea that the boy who had once been given a cloak and some pity by an ice-cold girl, had just seen that girl thawed enough to defend him.
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But… Mercury was defending him? She looked even angry on his behalf? Why would she fight with her friend because of him? He had been a part of the Dark Kingdom, and he would go back given the chance. Didn't that make them enemies? Why would she defend an enemy?
Confused as he was, of course he forgot to move out of his hiding spot before she reached it when she walked off from the argument. So, have a deer caught in headlights staring wide-eyed at you, Mizuno Ami.
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What else was there to say?
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"Wait-? What are you apologizing for?"
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Well done, Nephrite. Blurting out your thoughts like that, you don't sound weird, nope.
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"It's what I really thought!" she says suddenly, before realizing maybe that sounds weird and glancing away. "Maybe it's because, you saved me that time. So I don't want to hear someone say something bad about you!"
Orihime Inoue | Bleach | F/M
Alleyne - the Headless Horseman ♞ OC ♞ Prefer F/M
Hunter | Beastly | m/m
Loki | MCU | ota
Brienne of Tarth | Game of Thrones/ASoIaF | OTA
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2/4 and maybe some 6, 14?
As well was her rescuer, Brienne of Tarth. Strange woman, like nothing Sansa had ever known. She would have been frightening, not too long ago, but Sansa has long since learned not to judge people on initial appearances. A lady-knight she said she was, sworn to Catelyn Stark's service before her death, and on an oath-mission to find and rescue her eldest daughter. Despite all her misgivings, Sansa believed her. Something in that unhandsome face spoke of unfailing honesty, and in that, it was the most beautiful face she had seen in a very long time.
So they find themselves unable to rest, with nowhere safe to go, and no allies but one another, and yet Sansa has never felt safer. Brienne has a watchful eye and an intimidating presence, and has never once in their time together-how long has it been?- given any sign of betrayal.
Not a day passed, they had gained the luxury of a set of decent mounts, old work geldings that a farmer was more than willing to part with for a fair price, once Sansa had put on the charm. Of course it meant they had to lie about their direction of travel and destination, but it meant that they had a reprieve from walking, for which Sansa was infinitely grateful. She gave her mount a squeeze and he picked up his feet to pull up beside Brienne's mount. Sansa felt a lightness in her mood that was rare these days, and she had a desire to smile at Brienne and share company.
"Where shall we wander today, Brienne?"
eeexcellent
True to his word, the farmer's broad footed work horse could carry her size. Sansa's natural charm had come in handy. Indeed she was every inch a lady. Lady Catelyn would have been so proud. Brienne's hands and sword were keen to aid their journey but the gentle arts of words were never her weapons. Her slow tongue allowed the farmer to call her a man. Perhaps another lie would cover their trail. She must look something closer to a man now, a bash to nose and the still healing wound in her cheek... With those still she has kept her word.
Here they are. Her eyes stay vigilant and her ears open. A half turn in the saddle and she nearly slows. Smiles for the both of them have been rare. It's infectious. Sansa Stark even in grief was a lovely young lady. Perhaps there will be songs about her someday.
"I haven't yet decided. It would be wise for us to set a coarse for certain and soon." If only it were a simple ride. As a girl Brienne longed for the company. That must have been what it is like with sisters and brothers. "...would you wish to go?"
8D
Perhaps they would be lucky, and find more previously unknown allies, but Sansa wouldn't bet on it. She sat high in the saddle, proud even in hiding and exile, knowing no other way to be. She saw Brienne's posture affected by her injury and felt a pang of worry. It was healing, in spite of their flight, and for that she was grateful. The gods have been smiling on them, thus far.
And Brienne is smiling back at her. Even with her broken nose it's a welcome sight. If Sansa's guess is right, her rescuer has been through plenty of her own troubles before getting to where they are now, and seeing something as simple and pleasant as a smile on her face brings an odd hope into Sansa's heart.
She nods agreement, letting her eyes glaze into the distance as she thought. Where does she wish to do? Her eyes close for a moment, and she feels a cold wind blowing from somewhere far away, and the smell of snow.
"North. I wish to go north." Even if it's in ruins, she needs to see Winterfell again.
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Keeping to themselves, traveling on foot and for the most part out of sight meant a safer journey. Slower, yes but with no questionable persons that would be a lesser chance that Brienne would get into another fight. Her soreness was near gone. Bedrolls were not so uncomfortable since she found she could sleep fitfully. The distance from the King's Road and any bannermen at all was a relief.
North. Brienne nods. Her dry straw hair flips some with the motion. She should have thought. "Do you wish to remain there? It is your home."
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No myth now, but a traveling companion and protector. A friend, even. Bound to her by duty and not affection perhaps, but true in intention, and if Sansa was not wrong, there was affection there even still.
She pulls her traveling cloak closer around herself, suddenly less sure. "I'm not sure I will know until I am there. There are so many ifs." If Winterfell is still there at all, if she can find allies among her near-cousins of the North, if she could maybe even rebuild her home. If she could find a trace of her lost siblings. If, if, if.
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Brienne's smile grows softer. "And see it you will." She nearly swears it shall be done. But by now Sansa knows that there is no cunning plots in her words. "I have never been there. You must tell me how a southerner like myself shall get by."
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There's a promise in Brienne's words not lost on Sansa, and it makes her smile down at the pommel of her saddle. So many oaths sworn, small and large, and Brienne keeps them all.
"We shall have to get you a better cloak, for starters." It's a jest, in part. All the southerners she had ever known complained of the cold of the North, and indeed it was cold, but for a child born of it like Sansa, it affected her less. "Though I think you might find the people more to your liking." Men and women of the North had less love of politics than in the South, having less of the luxury of spare time. They were honest and hardworking, with the old blood in their veins, and a love of the wilderness. Not all of them, but most of them, were people Sansa believed were good at heart.
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A cloak? Yes, yes of course. She pulls at the worn fabric that has been flapping with the wind. The sun has rinsed the dye. It was once a deep, noble blue. "Is it true that it snows all seasons?"
"I know that I like you." An apple shade of red rises in her broad freckled cheeks. She doesn't know why. It isn't a secret.
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She looks up from her horse's neck to smile back at Brienne, amused. "It is true, though the snow does not always fall thick." Winter is coming, they say. The words of her house coming true at last. She wonders how much colder it will be than she remembers.
Her smile deepens even as Brienne's cheeks redden. "And I've even tainted my manner with that of Southron courts," she laughs, a sound like tinkling bells. It's reined back in, and her eyes grow sincere again. "I'm rather fond of you as well, my lady knight."
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"What is considered a thick snow fall?" Southron and a summer child she has much to learn and fast. How typical, Brienne.
Talk of snow and her face feels like it is on fire. "Northern holdfasts have their manners. I have heard so much, my lady." Her tongue feels as broad as her nose. She is liked. Sansa has not drawn a sword or sworn before gods the same way she has but this simple exchange of words is the ironclad lock and seal. She looks away from the young girl's pretty, fair face to the greenery. Shadows fall from the sun. Brienne's large and looming. Sansa's even on horseback is dainty. Small. "We're an unlikely pair."
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For now, it is simply glowing embers. Sansa laughs lightly again at Brienne's ignorance. Not mean-spirited, simply amused at how her brave companion is suddenly lost. "When the snow piles high enough to brush one's shins, I suppose, though it can fall much more heavily at times."
Watching Brienne encounter true snow for the first time is going to be something magical.
Sansa simply smiles all the more, looking as though she's hiding something behind her eyes. The way Brienne blushes when complimented, how she blubbers under Sansa's gaze... she's no foolish girl anymore, to mistake those signs for something they aren't. Neither is she foolish enough anymore to find them surprising or discomfiting. She actually finds she enjoys the innocence of it. She smiles at the back of Brienne's head, covered in lackluster blonde hair. There's a hint of reddened ears poking out of it, and Sansa feels a slight warmth to her face.
"So we are. And yet, well-matched in spirit I think."
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The cheery peal of laughter does make her shoulders sink a little. Sansa's words soon after restore her comfort. Laughter comes around like carrion whenever Brienne is in the company of strangers. She could stand to grow use to friendly japes. Not once has she been called wench or ugly... there are many names for a horse without calling it a beast. "Shins. So that would be," she pauses thoughtfully and looks down. "A little above my ankles." Yes, that is her version of a joke at her very own expense. It takes away from the fluster that is only just starting to fade away.
Well-matched in wills to carry on no matter the challenge and both stronger than men would believe. Brienne glances back. She would like to say that the sunlight lovely on her Tully auburn now that the brown coloring is finally giving away. Instead something else comes out delivered with an odd fondness, "Thank you again for persuading the farmer to give us both of the geldings. I don't care how healthy that mule was supposed to be." A lady on a mule, absurd. And they both know that it wouldn't be Brienne saddled with it. She would sooner allow Sansa the proper mount and walk beside the poor, big eyed thing. They were a better pair.
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There is still a trace of the petty, silly little girl Sansa once was within her, and she knows for a fact that Brienne is not an attractive woman. But more present than that is the older and wiser Sansa, who knows far better than to judge people on whether or not they're beautiful. In a way, the people who show themselves to be honest and trustworthy become more beautiful to the eye because of the fondness of the heart, and that is proven true in Brienne. She's almost handsome in her own stern, simple way. Perhaps it's just that her broad presence is comforting in how it makes Sansa feel safe.
She laughs again, pushing some hair out of her face and nodding. "So it would." On horseback it is less obvious, but on the ground... Brienne fairly towers over her. Taller than most men she's known.
"It was my pleasure." There's no small amount of amusement in her voice. "A mule is hardly a decent riding animal for cross country. Up a mountain, perhaps. Or as a pack animal." It did help that Sansa was less than convinced of the animal's ability to ferry either of them across Westeros.
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Far better to be here, wedded to mail and armor than any possible arrangement made. Her companion was not so far from her own age and she has been betrothed and wedded. Who knows what would have happened?
"I don't recall seeing a map with mountains ahead of us." A map is not quite needed yet when one needs to head where the wind grows the coldest and keep continuing. "Both of the geldings are strong enough to carry us and our belongings. No need really at all." Thinking of their belongings there were still some provisions. Brienne takes a look around, behind them and on either side. "Shall we rest a moment? I think there is still some apples and bread."
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"As you say. If we trace a path due north from here we should at most have to reckon with hills." It occurs to her that the marshes of the Reeds were within her reach, and their loyalty had been unfaltering for generations. She remembers that from her studies. As far as she knew, no Reeds had yet taken part in the wars between kings. Perhaps it is there she should seek allies.
Once mentioned, Sansa becomes aware of a hunger she'd been ignoring. "Yes I think so. I hear a stream running just there." She turns her horse's head a bit toward the sound of running water. Once close enough she dismounts gracefully, leading her horse for a drink.
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Such a large stretch of land to travel. It's dizzying how much of Westeros Brienne will see. There's so much more to the world than King's Landing and all the courts put together. The North and all the stories she had heard will be easier to understand with a Northerner.
Brienne dismounts from her gelding with a heavy clunk. The animal snorts and shakes it's head. Yes, a rest is a good idea. She follows and is mindful of her footing to the water's edge. "If it's good enough for the horses we should fill the skins."
Who knows how many springs and streams they will encounter without risk. Speaking of risk, she calls ahead to Sansa, "Let me go first."
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Free from the saddle, she can feel the stiffness more harshly. Long days of riding can wear on even a practiced horsewoman. Sansa breathes deep of the fresh air and smiles into the sky. The sound of Brienne meeting the ground draws her attention, a small smile of content still on her face.
She nods, acquiescing. "As you wish." There is no benefit in arguing, and no honor either. If Brienne will worry, Sansa will allow her. The knight has more than earned the right to. So she stands back, one hand under her horse's chin, whispering comforting sounds to keep him steady.
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The rushing water and her own foot tread and horse appear to be the only sounds. She wanders as far as the very lip of the stream before turning. "We're alone." The gelding has already begun to drink. Brienne shakes her head. The poor animal. She pats its side before looking through the saddle bag for the apples and bread.
"Should anyone come, let us hope they want to keep to themselves." She offers up the bread to Sansa first.
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She was free to remember what it meant to be Sansa.
Brienne's all-clear was received with a nod, and Sansa led her horse by the reins to the water in turn, watching him drink as she smooths dust from her skirts. Of course Brienne offers the food first. It makes Sansa smile again, just a touch of color in her face. How was it that a woman was the most chivalrous person she's ever met? More than any male knight by far. She takes the offered bread gratefully, breaking it neatly in half and offering a piece back. She would have offered a larger portion, but she knows Brienne would have refused.
"Wouldn't that be a charming chance of pace." It's a darker humor than she expected from herself, but it's not inappropriate. Once free of the Eyrie the two of them haven't been bothered much, but neither does Sansa have faith that there are many peaceful travelers on the road these days.
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Her big blue eyes blink in the wake of Sansa's smile and lower to take her portion. She had been in the company of Margaery Tyrell, Queen Cersei and so many other highborn women but somehow they just do not have the same striking qualities of Sansa. Her own lips that smile some feel huge, monstrous. Best not be gaping like a cow. She looks back to the rushing water.
"Yes, it would." Brienne sighs and takes a bite. "If we must have company we'll need a story." Because two women have no business travelling alone across the war torn country side let alone two women travelling alone period.
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Even with her head lowered, Brienne's smile goes noticed. Even small gestures of kindness make a difference in the older woman's countenance, and it makes Sansa wonder. In some small way it makes her angry, because she knows it is a sign that Brienne is unused to kindness, and such a true and honorable person deserves respect and care. Not that that really counts for much in this harsh land. It's unfair, and she knows it, but she will do as she's always done, and be fair when she can, and kind when she dared.
"We will." Not too long ago, Sansa would have loved to take the role of storyteller, weaving a tale of two lost women searching for safety in a war-torn world, and made it convincing and emotional. Stories don't hold the magic for her now that they used to, though, and the thought of it only makes her bread taste sour. Still, they will need a convincing cover. The best of lies are rooted in truth, Baelish had taught her that, and he was right.
"I had a friend, growing up, the daughter of a servant family, Jeyne Poole. We looked much alike, being cousins of some distant sort. I could claim to be her, attempting to return north after fleeing in panic, seeing a new home among one of the other northern families. The Karstarks, maybe." She thinks more, wondering how to fit Brienne into the picture. "And you are the shieldmaiden daughter of a minor lordling who fell in battle, and have taken up his sword and shield to protect what remains of innocent civilians you can find, hoping to return to a place where a side hasn't been chosen." The north after all was merely a scrap of land the remaining Kings fought over, since Robb's death, and not much of a contender on it's own.
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DJ/Cyborg | OC| M/F for shipping