tushanshu | [Console] (Video) ❅ The First

Entry tags:

[Console] (Video) ❅ The First

(She waits until she is sitting primly in a chair, her back straight and her hair braided neatly over one shoulder. Appearance is everything - or so she has learned time and time again. No matter how uneasy she feels, she cannot show it. Alayne Stone won't break.)

I am new to the kingdom of Keeliai, but I have been well-informed. (A small smile - one which doesn't reach her eyes - follows before she continues:) My name is Alayne Stone and I am from a world called Westeros. Should my world sound familiar to anyone, I am eager to speak with you.

(Though perhaps not meet. The fact that is standing on her own hasn't escaped her. She no longer has Littlefinger's protection.

The next part is strange to word, so she decides to just say it.)

Is it true that we are on the back of a giant turtle? I find that hard to believe. Even the largest of turtles are not spacious enough to hold a world, surely?

(What happens when the turtle turns the wrong way?)

Are there other creatures of such a considerable size? I should like to avoid the predators.

(The turtle should avoid them too.)

There are items which I will eventually need. Where might I procure them? Is there a market and some sort of currency?

(Yes, she knows she needs to focus on the things she can control. Otherwise... Otherwise...

She will lose the hope she has been able to retain.)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I am within the city, near the market, I believe. I did not travel far when I arrived. (Assuming everyone arrives in the same place?)

[They don't, actually, but—] Just stay right there, I'll pull up your console's location and meet you in a sec.

[The feed clicks off, and he shows up in person about five minutes later.]

Alayne? [He grins, waves, and approaches.] Hey. My name's Tony Stark, by the way. Sorry, I didn't introduce myself over the console.

(While she waits for him, she rises from her seat and smoothes over her gown. Her heart is beating uncomfortably fast and she has to clutch her hands together to keep them from shaking.

But then he arrives and he looks as nice as he sounded over the console.)

... (The beginning of a smile curves her lips until she hears his surname. Stark. Oh.) I'm relieved to have met someone as knowledgable as you, Lord Stark.

(His name rings oddly in her ears, but she purposefully pushes back the emotions.)

You had no reason to be patient with me.

[That startles a chuckle out of him.] Whoah, there's no "Lord" in there. The employees at my own company don't even call me "sir." Tony's fine. And seriously, it's no problem.

You ready to go? I think I managed to scrape together enough cash to at least get you started. [Maybe not enough to buy more fancy gowns, but enough to by some extra pairs of underwear, at least. There is nothing more poignantly inconvenient and demeaning about being poor in an unfamiliar place than having to wash your only pair of underwear in the sink every night.]

Tony...? (First names are not something she is accustomed to and they sound odd on her tongue.) Thank you.

(She gives him a little curtsy, biting her lip.) I spoke to Mister Shudder and he said he has extra fabric and sewing supplies. I know how to put all fabric to good use.

(There is no such thing as spare or wasted fabric - even in Winterfell.)

Are you going to make your own clothes?

[Dang, that's impressive. Tony's learned to patch up simple rips and holes, and he's not actually terrible at it (he has the dexterity for much more precise work than sewing, after all) but making clothes from scratch? He wouldn't know where to start.]

I plan to. I am practiced with a needle and thread. (She has made dresses before. In fact, the one she is wearing was made by her.)

Nice. I can make a suit of power armor, but I have no idea how to make a shirt. [He shakes his head and grins self-deprecatingly. He can't cook, either. He is not, shall we say, domestically skilled.]

I can still take you to a good seamstress if you want, but if you've got your wardrobe under control I guess I'll just give you a tour of the market.

Power armor? What is the difference between regular armor and power armor? (Her skills are mostly domestic. She has spent her life preparing herself to be a important, noble lady.)

I should like to see their shop. I like finding new patterns and new ideas.

A couple gigajoules per second, [Tony replies lightly. And unhelpfully.] I'll show you later. [He would love (L O V E) to show off his armor, but from the way she talks and some of the stuff she's said, Tony's starting to think she's from a time point in her world that is relatively far in the past, compared to him. He doesn't want to freak her out with crazy tech right after she's arrived. He can get a little ~~what's a tactful way to say "dangerously over-invested"~~ enthusiastic when he's joking around, but he's not mean-spirited, and he's not going to bust out the armor just to try to catch her off-guard. She's a little stiff, and he can't get a good read on how well she'd take it.]

Okay, the shop I know is just a couple blocks from here. Come on.

(She stares at him caught between laughter and amazement. Gigajoules? Did he make up that word?)

What do these...gigajoules...look like? (Oh she feels silly saying that word. What is technology, Tony?) Do they sparkle in the light?

(Joules = Jewels.)

Seamstresses are not always available in my world. That's why young women are taught how to sew.

[Tony lets out another surprised laugh. You know, even if only by accident... she's not completely wrong. A whole lot of that energy output gets used for stuff that gives off light.] I guess they do.

Clothes get mass-produced in my world, so not a lot of people know how to sew by hand anymore, [he explains as they walk.] And if I asked Pepper to hem my pants for me, she'd probably punch me. [The conjecture is entirely good-natured: Pepper would be well within her rights to punch him, and he would respect her for it.]

(She laughs along with him, covering her mouth with her hand. Loud, boisterous laughter isn't very lady-like.)

Your armor must be costly. (His next words amaze her and she nearly stops in her tracks.) How is that possible? How can they ensure their clothes fit properly?

(Measurements must be taken surely?)

Who is Pepper?

It is. [Also very true. Not that Tony has ever in his life had to worry about how much something costs.]

The clothes get produced in all different sizes. You can still get things hand-tailored, but people usually only do that with formal wear and other expensive clothes. And Pepper is one of my best friends, back home.

(She lifts her skirt delicately, her heels hitting the pavement with soft clicks. The crow feathers that decorate the top of her gown shimmer in the light and the chain that is hanging around her neck swings slowly back and forth.)

The peasants could benefit from such a production. (It's something to think about.) You must miss her.

Yeah, it makes clothes cheaper, I guess. [He's all for technology making people's lives better - that's sort of his raison d'etre - but industrialized clothing production is a little mundane for him.

He's silent for a couple seconds after her next comment.] I miss her a lot, [he finally replies.] And Rhodey, my other friend. And my dad. I really miss them all. But I have friends here too, and Gene, and... The way things are set up now, we lose our memories of this universe when we go back to our own. I want to go home, but it's really hard to leave everything here behind when you know you'll forget it all and never be able to come back.

Clothing is a high commodity in the winter. Without it, many of the lower class freeze. (It's not something she turns a blind eye to; it bothers her.) I'm not certain I miss anyone...

(There is a pause, an intake of breath.) ...except Father.

(Yes, Alayne would miss her father. Sansa misses her father too, but she knows that feeling is fruitless.)

My situation is much easier than yours. I'm sorry you have to make such a choice.

[Tony's brow furrows. Cheap mass-produced clothing probably doesn't seem boring and insignificant when you're worried about freezing to death, does it?

He's not sure how to feel about these comments Alayne keeps making about the kedan's resources and the struggles of the lower classes.

Most so-called "activists" that he's encountered are too busy screaming death threats at his dad to actually, you know, help the poor, so he doesn't have a very high opinion of type. Alayne's different. She's so direct and matter-of-fact about it, and she sounds like she actually cares.]

What's your dad like? [He's feeling weirdly unmoored, so he grasps for the first easy conversation thread he sees. And he'd just been thinking about his own dad, so the question seems natural.]

(To see suffering up close and personal is a frightening reminder of what a city - or kingdom - lacks. She has often thought of giving away her old clothes or starting a project to clothe the poor, but she was either sneered at or given other tasks to fill her time.

Alayne - no, Sansa - knows what it's like to suffer; to be abused under the iron fist of those who should be trusted. Her body has healed from the many punches, slaps and embarrassments Joffrey had put her through, but her mind and her heart remember. That's why Alayne has to be stronger. She cannot allow history to repeat itself - for her or anyone else.)

He is... (She wants to tell him about Ned and how he used to smile and comfort her when she grabbed onto his arm. She wants to tell him how he had believed in her and how... She had betrayed him.

Yet, somehow, every time she holds the doll he gave her - which is still in the Eyrie - she feels forgiven. She feels half a child when she holds it and all the pain melts away. Her father would have taken her home, protected her behind the walls of Winterfell and kept any promise he gave her.

Eddard Stark was a man of his word.

Petyr Baelish is not. Not completely anyway.) ...intelligent and cunning. I am only his bastard daughter - all bastards are named Stone in the Mountains of the Moon - yet he fosters me and takes care of me. He is even going to arrange a good marriage for me.

(She tries to sound enthusiastic about that, but it's forced.)

Jeez, that's not really glowing praise. [Where is that tact he had just a second ago? He seems to have misplaced it again.

But seriously, whoa. That usage of "bastard" is quite a dose of culture shock. Tony's definitely never heard anyone in 21st century New York use "bastard" as anything other than a plain insult.] I would hope he takes care of you, even if your parents weren't married - he's your father.

[His eyes widen even further at her last statement.] You're still doing arranged marriages where you're from?

A man in his position should be glad for that praise. (It keeps him alive. Living is best, right? Her mind teeters on that - a lot more than it should.) Most bastards are either ignored or killed. It is rare when one is acknowledged.

(Marriage. That word used to give her such a thrill.)

Some noble girls can expect to be wedded when they are still children.

That's fucked up, [Tony says decisively.] I don't say this to a lot of people, but I think you're better off here.

(He has no idea how right he is with that statement.)

I was beginning to think so too. Not that I'm not grateful to my father, but...

(It's nice to not be in a cage.)

Should he ever come here, will you please keep my feelings on the matter to yourself?

Sure, of course. [A brief pause, and his expression softens with a slightly wry smile.] Can I tell him my feelings on the matter?

[Can he hit him for you, Alayne? He is so good at hitting things.]

I cannot stop you. (Nor will she try. Even so...) Do be careful. I would hate to be the cause of your pain.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject