bakerstreet | I'll protect her on my own orders!

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I'll protect her on my own orders!

PROTECTOR/PROTECTED

There’s no real push to your actions; you do them as if they were second nature. Perhaps, initially, you were assigned this role, as protector and guardian of this person. Maybe you took it on because there was no one else. A natural guardian or not, good or evil, you caught a shining to them and felt…something. Something hard to explain, but you want to keep them safe and happy - or at the very least, content. No one is as dedicated to them as you. You want them to reach their goals; to help them achieve them, you'll do what you must, even if it means being their gofer or their right hand.

But most of all, you don't want them to end up like you. They're worth more than that.

Yet somehow, along the line, you became more to them, more than just their protector. You protect them anew and you've found a different way to make them happy. It's selfish, too, because you love them in your way and you want them more than anything. You may feel guilty, of course. They don't, though, and that's what matters.

Comment with your character, preferences, and what you'd prefer to play: protector or protected.
Remember, you don't have to be so rigid. A traditionally weak character can "protect" a traditionally strong one in emotional ways.
Reply to others.

Promise ✖ You told them you would take care of their lover, no matter what. You intend to follow through with that.
Close ✖ What are friends for if not taking care of unfinished business?
Debt Owed ✖ Kindness or favor has to be repaid, even if it's an investment in someone else.
Atonement ✖ Whether or not you particularly cared for the person who's gone is irrelevant. You just need to make up for past sins.
No Good ✖ You're taking care of the one left behind, but not out of good intentions. There may be ulterior motives here - no, there are definitely ulterior motives here. Or maybe this is the one good thing you've done in your life.
Guilt ✖ It's your fault that you're here and their significant other isn't. It's a paltry repayment.
Bearer of Bad News ✖ You can't blame them for wanting to shoot the messenger. You are telling them their lover is dead.
Related ✖ In days past, the living partner would be cared for by their dead partner's family. As a sibling or cousin of the deceased, you want to continue that tradition and take care of "family."
Wo/man Up ✖ Actually, their lover isn't dead, they're just dead to you, unable or unwilling to take care of business. You're stepping up.
Friends ✖ You were all friends before, so it's only natural for you to want to look out for them now.
Derisive ✖ ...this is the person they loved so much? This is who you're supposed to protect? Pathetic.
Resentful ✖ You can never forgive them. They're the reason your lover is dead, no matter how they treat you.
What They Saw in You ✖ You're beginning to see why someone would love them, how they'd want to give up their old ways and change. It's almost...nice.
Warming Up ✖ If you didn't get along at first, the claws are being put away now. It's better to at least be civil, isn't it?
Still in Danger ✖ Whatever killed one half of the pair is still out there, and the other half is in danger themselves.
Other Complications ✖ Not only did your mutual acquaintance leave behind a lover, but also children. You find yourself getting closer and closer to them, too, even if they aren't yours.
Compromised ✖ You can't look after them with a level head. You love them.
Can't Love Again ✖ You've lost before. You can't risk losing again, can you?
Out of the Dark ✖ One or both of you find yourselves in a hole. You can barely eat, hardly sleep, and depression has taken hold of you. Together, though, you may find the light and a way out of despair.
First Time ✖ Simply what it says. You two have taken your relationship to the next level.
Changed ✖ Before, you were bitter. Hard. Jaded. Now, helping someone - specifically, helping this person - has brought a new kind of joy into your life. You could get used to it. Easily and dangerously used to it, to be brutally honest. You shouldn't allow it.
Living Together ✖ You can take care of them more throughly if you're in the same place as they are, obviously.
Hidden Jealousy ✖ When their lover was alive, you were jealous of everything they had - including the fact that they had the person you're looking after now. Admitting this may make you feel like the most awful person in the world.
Secrets Revealed ✖ Eventually, your involvement with the death of their beloved will come out, and they will never be able to look at you the same way.
Dependent ✖ Replacing one unhealthy habit with another, you've become utterly dependent on your relationship with your caretaker, your guardian, your lover.
Won't Be a Replacement ✖ You can't help but feel as if you're merely serving as a stand in for what they've lost. It's understandable, yet you still can't allow yourself to be that and only that.
Not Really Gone ✖ What is dead should stay dead, but what if who you thought was gone isn't really out of the picture? Will they be happy with finding someone else so cozy and in love with their special someone?
The Same Mistakes ✖ You're falling into the same patterns that lead to their death. Will you meet the same fate?
Who's Helping Who ✖ You think you're taking care of them and helping them through their loss. Is that the case? But who's never been this happy before in their life?
Move On ✖ It's time to put ghosts to rest and let old demons go. You can't let your life become a graveyard.
Tragedy ✖ The ending is unhappy or even deadly for both of you.
Happy Ending ✖ In contrast to the above, you're both able to live as together as happily as you possibly can, whatever can be allowed.
WILDCARD

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ protector. ]

((Definitely the protector. M/M for shipping.))

[Eli here is an Marvel OC. He's around the same size as pre-serum Steve, he's the lost son of Thor and on the run from HYDRA. More info on his page if you'd like.]

[ most likely the protected. ]

[Either role. Even if she's being protected, she'd try to help you do it.]

[Definitely the protected. Human form also available.]

[100% the protector. Info can be found here!]

[Voice testing, either role. Gen or m/m. I tend to play him at the end of the series, but can work with any point of the time period you wish.]

[Protect her? Good effing luck.]

[Protector]

Edited 2020-10-23 02:52 (UTC)

Seeing as she’s a pacifist/political figure she’s the protected one))

[ definitely doing the protecting. ]

[The one in need of protection.]

[ protector ]

[ NYPD, protecting humans and nonhumans alike. ]

( protector )

[ooc: Either role.]

[ooc: either role.]

Edited 2020-10-23 14:43 (UTC)

[ooc: Probably the protected, but open to protecting, too.]

[Depending on which version you get, Taemin would be the protector while Siwon desperately needs protected.]

[Deceptively the protector, even if she looks like she weighs ninety pounds soaking wet. Cross-canon is love. Info about her fantasy-medieval world in journal if you want it for some strange reason. Natalie Portman face-twin confusion always welcome.]

Women in his army wasn't uncommon. The Mormonts were filled with fierce women, worthy of their House sigil, the Bear. There was Ariadne as well, who proved to be a good warrior and comrade. It hadn't escaped Robb's notice that she stayed close to his side, acting as any loyal knight might. Between his direwolf and her, there was little chance that he would take any blows during battle. In the thick of it, he only had to look to his side and she was there, felling soldiers right and left.

But in the lull, it seemed she was there as well. Her presence was comforting, a reminder that he wasn't alone, even as his kingship weighed heavily on him. She made a good companion when he sat before the fire and thought of all that had passed. It certainly didn't take her long to find him.

"I was wondering where you got to."

Don't let him out of your sight...

Those had been her orders. Simple enough. She'd taken such assignments before. But none of them had ever lasted this long. Part of it was because communication with home was so difficult. And there was the distance, of course.

But Ariadne would be lying to herself if she said she didn't find Robb...what was the word? She knew thirty languages and couldn't quite find it. Different. He was different from other nobles, from other men she'd been sent to observe. That's what he was.

And she lied to so many people, it didn't seem worthwhile to lie to herself.

She gave him a neat, little curtsy, although she was wearing her leathers, rather than a skirt. "Only cleaning," she replied.

"It's better than what my men do, which is let themselves get covered in filth." He liked the sight of her in leathers, it suited her. Given that the Mormont women preferred armor, she was the only one who could move so effortlessly.

He gestured for her to sit next to him and to be at ease, not needing any formalities. "Come and warm yourself." He didn't have anything for her to eat, but there was good ale at least. "It should at least be a quiet night."

It wasn't that Alastrians were terribly fastidious about cleanliness. It was just that they could smell the lingering musk on other people who didn't wash. And generally tried to be polite enough to clean themselves.

She smiled at the invitation and took a seat near him. As a child, she'd been terribly afraid of fire, but now she could hold her palms out to the flames without shrinking back.

It was a necessary evil. In most kingdoms, anyway.

For a moment, she watched the way the light danced between her fingers. She could tell there was a lot on his mind. They were on campaign. Of course there was. But she also couldn't help but feel like lately, his thoughts had been going beyond battle to something else. "Probably," she said. "And quiet nights are good nights for thinking."

The fire is one of the few comforting things he has this night, aside from her presence. The light and the heat pour through him, searing away the fatigue of battle and the sounds of the dying. All he needs is to stare into the flames and it's almost as if he can imagine himself back at Winterfell, settling in for the night as the snow falls outside.

But that image is a lie, sadly. He is king and on a battlefield far from home, but at least he isn't alone.

"I don't know if I want to think tonight." Most nights either. Since his father's death, there have been nothing but dark thoughts and worries. His sisters were held prisoner and this fight for independence almost felt unwinnable. "Help me think about other things?"

Ariadne smiled wryly, shaking her head. "If you asked most people, they wouldn't name me among the great thinkers of Valeria. I'm lucky I can read and write." She was also terribly proud of the fact that she could. Considering her background. Her mother hadn't exactly prioritized it, which was funny, considering how important Alastrians considered languages in general.

She rubbed her hands together, before holding them out to the flames again. "When I was a little girl, though, when we wanted to take our minds off of things, we usually sang songs."

Unfortunately, she didn't really know many songs from Winterfell. Aside from some of the naughtier ones she heard the soldiers singing.

Probably not appropriate for this situation.

"You didn't have much of an education?" She was clever though, despite that. She was savvy in battle and astute enough to recognize traps, from what he could see. He never would have known that she wasn't as educated as other ladies in the North.

"You sound like my sister. She loved songs." To a problematic point that she actually thought that Joffrey was a hero from the songs. Now she had to contend with a monster.

"I know a few, but I'm not a singer."

"Oh, anyone can be a singer," she said, giving him a warm smile. "It's only a matter of stringing notes together. The same as writing a sentence or defending yourself against parries."

Of course, to an Alastrian, singing wasn't something you studied. It wasn't written down. It wasn't analyzed or dissected.

It was practically just another form of communication.

"Let me show you," she said. And without further ado, she closed her eyes and started to sing.

It isn't every day
That I get to walk about
While others go about their daily lives
I'm on the inside looking out
Every day just like the last
Every moment prearranged
But my heart is crying out
Dying for something new and strange...

It was one of her father's songs. It spoke to a mother she'd never known. One who was loving and loved. Who didn't harden her heart for the sake of survival. Ariadne's voice was like a single drop of clear water into a pond, sending ripples into eternity.