If you'd like to apply to Snowblind and would like to test the waters first or get a sample set up for your application, this meme is for you! We've even provided some prompts for you to use if you want (but feel free to make up your own). Here's how it works.
✭ Reply to this entry with a character you're considering apping into the game. You can include the name of your character and the fandom in your subject line. ✭ Comment around to others on the meme, whether you're in the game already or not. ✭ Now you have a sample ready for your application! ✭ So go reserve and apply when reservations and applications are open. ✭ Seriously, do it.
Network Prompts
ONE: IT WON'T BE LONG NOW... Well, you made a mistake. You spent too long searching around, or you ran outside near the end of the day for just one more thing, and now you've been locked out. You can search around all you want, but the best shelter you can hope for is pressing against the side of a sealed up building. You do still have your tablet, though. Maybe someone on the network can give you some advice, or at least some comfort while you wait for hypothermia to set in.
TWO: CABIN FEVER Maybe you didn't want that mistake of getting caught outside to happen again, but now you've ended up staying too long in one location, and cabin fever has set in. Maybe you're taking to the network to try and ignore the hallucinations. Maybe you want to tell everyone that you've figured out they're all in on your kidnapping. Maybe you ended up wandering off and now you'd really like to know if anyone can check back in the place you were at for your pants.
Action Prompts
THREE: AN UNEXPECTED MEETING You're going about your business searching what seems like it might be an especially promising house--it's fully intact and there's even a working fireplace with some wood! It looks like someone else has the same idea, though, and you've run into them in the middle of your search. Do you share the potential wealth or try to kick them out? On the other hand, maybe you know who this is, or maybe you're just glad to actually see another person for the first time in ages.
FOUR: GOOD MORGUE-NING You've just woken up in a morgue after dying in one unfortunate way or another. You have no idea where you are beyond that, but your tablet is insisting you can't stay here, so you should probably get out of here pretty quickly. Of course, bringing people back from the dead isn't a perfect science, so you're missing something important to you. Maybe you've lost your voice, maybe you can't remember where you're from, maybe you can't remember where you are right now. It looks like someone else is nearby, though. Maybe they can help you out?
To say Stannis is bothered by the situation wouldn’t even begin to cover it. He should be used to having to think quick and adapt to whatever gets on his path, and after years of having Lady Melisandre by his side have made him… well, not amenable to magic. He would never be completely amenable to something so dangerous. A two-edged sword, as Lord Snow had described it. But he had learned to expect the unexpected. But usually the unexpected involved fire, light-shows, people dying in mysterious ways. If the rumors were to be believed it also involved losing his fleet simply because he’d left Melisandre behind.
The unexpected certainly didn’t involve waking up in a strange land, full of strange people and even stranger devices on his pocket that won’t stop chiming. He ignores it.
His first thought had been that he had somehow ended up on the other side of the wall… but no. It didn’t feel right. Nothing about this felt right. After a couple hours wandering in every direction (the hand never leaving the hilt of his sheathed sword), he decides to enter one of the weird-looking houses. Inside, he finds a fire- and maybe he has spent too much time around Lady Melisandre because the sight of it is enough to make any weariness about the house disappear. He approaches, discarding the gloves to warm his fingers-
And then he hears a noise, and quickly turns around.
“Who else is there?” He doesn’t yell it. He doesn’t have to: he’s good at making his voice heard.
Renly isn't used to being alone, especially not alone in a strange land where it seems to be always cold. He never did like the North, and that's what this reminds him of - the North, perhaps beyond the Wall, but how in the world would he have gotten there? Last he knew, he was in his tent, in the middle of his blissfully safe camp, surrounded by loyal men (and women).
He's freezing and unused to being alone, to providing for himself just to survive. He considers it a lucky fortune that he's found a cabin, with wood and a few meager supplies. He's already made himself a fire, and drawn his fine green cloak tight about himself to try and keep warm (and oh, it seems like he will never be warm again, without Loras) when he hears the door open, and a figure approach his fire (and damn it all, it had taken a long time to build that fire up!)-
Renly grabs for a broken chair leg and raises it above his head to club the intruder, if he must, when he hears-
"...Stannis?" He must look a right fool, prepared to club his brother to death with a chair leg, and he slowly lowers it, but his grip tightens. Yeah, he's still thinking about whacking him...
One would think something like having your dead brother threaten you with what looks like a chair leg would be a little more surprising. But after a few long and probably awkward pause where Stannis simply glances at the younger Baratheon... the king in not-at-the-wall-anymore looks like this is on par for the course.
"Must you bother me even here, spirit?" He simply lets go of the handle of his bright sword. It would be a weird sort of dream indeed if he were able to get hurt in it. And Stannis can admit to be afraid of certain things but his brother’s ghost isn’t one of them.
“If it is an apology you seek you will find none coming from me.”
Stannis is barely reacting to his presence, and boy, doesn't that feel familiar? He remembers much the same from his early childhood, constantly being underfoot looking for attention and his brother refusing to provide. That was, of course, before he just up and left.
"Spirit?" He sounds indignant, because of course he does. "I am no spirit, no matter how you would like to ignore my existence! Do not insult me so."
And then to further prove that he is not a ghost, he takes the chair leg and he strikes out at Stannis with it, a pretty clumsy swipe that's more to get his attention than do any real damage. "You have many things to apologize for, but I have long given up on expecting one, brother."
Now that gets his attention, and Stannis glances where Renly has hit him as if he can’t really comprehend what just happened. He’s been hit, by his brother’s ghost. …By his brother? It doesn’t really hurt; even if Renly had been serious about hitting him for damage he’s wearing his armor. But as he looks up to Renly again it’s clear that he is definitely paying attention to the kid now.
“If you are not a ghost, then what could you possibly be? You died, Renly.”
Renly can't help but look a little smug over that, standing there with the chair leg in his hands like it's some great shining sword. He at least got Stannis's attention, and the man seems almost stunned that he's physically here and able to do such a thing. It feels a little like victory, if a small one.
"I did no such thing. I am very much alive. It is you who will die on the morrow, if you do not accept my terms." But then he glances out the window of the cabin at the snowy wasteland, and pauses, looking unhappy.
"Well, perhaps not on the morrow. This certainly does alter plans a little..."
He frowns, then both eyebrows rise up in realization when it clicks. It’s not that Renly doesn’t realize he’s died, it’s that from his point of view he hasn’t yet died- but how is that possible? Time is not something you can twist around and mold to your every whim, time is almost as unforgiving as Stannis is.
“You have been dead for a very long time now, Renly.” Maybe if he says it one more time Renly will believe him and go back with the Stranger. If he keeps repeating it perhaps things will eventually make sense. Because if Renly isn’t here to seek for an apology then it means his brother isn’t really dead. And he… doesn’t really know how to feel about that. Relief? Anger, at a failed plan?
Renly only last remembers his armor and his tent, certainly not dying. He isn't afraid of death, because he knows he will not meet the Stranger any time soon. Well, back home, at least. Back home, he has Loras and his Kingsguard to protect him, all the soldiers of his massive army following their king. The King in Highgarden, the gallant and shining king, like in a story or a song.
He doesn't know that these are the thoughts of an innocent summer child.
"You're lying, I will not die. I have my protectors, my own Kingsguard, led by the finest knight in Westeros. My army is greater than yours." Stannis is only trying to get under his skin, that must be it. That is the only reason he can comprehend why Stannis would proclaim him dead.
"You're only trying to frighten me. It won't work."
“I do not need to frighten you, Renly. I never did, as your death proved. I tried to warn you as a brother would warn another but you didn’t listen.”
The last word is said with more emotion that he’s put into anything he’s said so far. Because Renly never listened, never even cared, never truly understood. Renly forced his brother to kill him and not even that seemed to stop his reckless behavior. Stannis should be afraid, maybe. He is talking to a ghost of the past after all, a spirit. He should maybe feel guilt, remorse- R'hllor knows he feels a pang of it every time he sees a damn peach, even though Renly had left him with no other possible options.
But all he feels is anger because his little brother won’t even stay dead, not even killing seems to get his attention. Even when being murdered he’s happier, nicer, kinder than Stannis will even be. Even when dead Stannis doesn’t seem to be enough for him because he wants more, grander, brighter. Even when R'hllor tosses him into the shadows he still. Won’t. Listen!
“I killed you, brother. I have lived with that knowledge for a long time now.”
His voice is starting to rise, as it tends to do when he's upset. "And I am warning you, brother-" But it catches his attention, the way Stannis speaks, the cold tone taking on a note of something else at the last word. It cannot be true, he thinks. Loras would never let him be killed, would never let him on the front lines of battle for longer than absolutely necessary to raise the troops' spirits.
I killed you.
The words are like a sword to the gut. "You couldn't have!" He finally bursts out with. "Kinslaying is a great offense, and anyway, my knights would never let you near enough to- to- How can you say such things?"
Even now Renly speaks of himself as if he had ever truly been a king, as if his knights had believed in his title instead of his charm. Even now the little kid wants to play dress-up, pretend to be something else than the scared child he really is. Even now Renly thinks he could have done a better job than Stannis. He doesn't exactly feel proud of his brother's death. He never will: death brings him not pleasure, and it feels like a betrayal to kill his own family. He choose his family over his king, once, and now he's killing said family so that he can become king... it's not a pleasant feeling.
But right now he understands why he had to do it.
"I never laid a hand on you, Renly. But I knew Lady Melisandre's magic would bring you to your death, and I will not insult you by pretending it is not the same as murdering you with my own hands.
Do not insult me either and pretend you wouldn't have killed me if you had had the chance."
[OOOMMMGG! I've never seen a Stannis RPer before! This is exciting!]
What he heard was the padding of footfalls from a dire wolf. When Robb heard the door open to the house, he moved back into the shadows and hid down the hallway. He wasn't familiar with these surroundings, nor understood where (and how) he was here. Nor did he have any weapons upon him beyond Grey Wind and whatever he could find here within the room.
There's a low growl as a figure of the dire wolf showed itself, after the voice spoke up. Robb couldn't see him well in the dim light of the fire, but he knew enough it was a man, around his height or maybe taller.
Following the dire wolf, Robb made his presence known, coming out of the shadows. "Forgive us for trespassing, I mean no harm. Only to leave the elements of outside." He might have Stark blood in him, wolf's blood, but even he wouldn't last long alone in the snow.
He has never personally crossed paths with the young wolf, that’s true. But he met his father quite often at court back in the day- and his mother, who happens to have a striking resemblance with her son. Especially the eyes. So the kid’s looks combined with the fact that a direwolf precedes his arrival… yes, Stannis is not a stupid man indeed. But this should be impossible, so he simply stares at the young king with a raised eyebrow for a second, trying to convince himself he’s wrong even though he knows he isn’t.
“It is not my property to trespass. But I would still like to know your name.”
As Robb moved closer, he's able to see the man's clothes better, making him notice that there was something familiar about them. "Robb Stark, Lord of--" He pauses only for a moment, vaguely wondering if it mattered here. None of it seemed familiar. "Winterfell. Who are you?"
Grey Wind takes a seat, panting and anxiously awaiting Stannis's reactions.
"I don't know where we are." Robb decided to at least confess that much.
The fact that he’s so openly proclaiming himself to be Lord of lands that are part of Stannis’s kingdom by birthright is nearly enough to make him lose his temper. Nearly, because now that he’s confirmed his name Stannis needs to know what kind of sorcery is pulling him away from the wall and bringing dead people back to life. Lady Melisandre told him once about a magic kiss but Stannis simply uses religion when it’s been useful.
“I do not know either. I am Stannis Baratheon, First of his name. King of Westeros. I know of you, Young Wolf.”
Robb can see the open disdain upon the man's face, and it made him frown. He thought his clothing looked familiar, though he couldn't see his sigil right out in the dim fire.
"Aye, and I know of you." Robb commented, trying to be ever so gracious. "Though I am unaware of where we are as compared to the rest of the realm. This is no land that I am familiar of, nor do I believe we're north of the Wall. There are no Weirwood trees--" Robb knew Stannis had The Red Woman with him, filling him with ideas from no god of his, though what specific knowledge he had was limited at best.
Stannis opens his mouth, but closes it when Robb continues. So he’s not the only one that has gotten a weird feeling about this place. Part of him wonders if this is some sort of punishment in the afterlife- maybe the Stranger came pick him up after all. The idea is laughable, but so is talking to a dead person and that doesn’t seem to be stopping Robb.
“The last time I heard of you you had been killed. Gruesomely so.” No one has ever accused Stannis of being gentle, and Robb doesn’t seem to be aware of that fact. Maybe knowing will help them both get a clearer idea about this place.
Aware of it? Not a chance, but he was now. Robb isn't quick to respond, standing there silently with lips pressed in a line. Finally with a large inhale, he nods, "It's what I last remember. I have thick, healed scars where the wounds ought to be."
He doesn't understand this any more than Stannis. He should be dead and yet his heart was beating in his chest along with the rise and fall of each breath. "I woke up here and with a metal square with text upon it. I've never seen or heard of anything like this."
Stannis was older, perhaps he would know more about such a thing, but Robb couldn't come to any possible conclusions.
Stannis reaches for his own metal square and handed it to the Stark kid. He is actually relieved they have something else to talk about, because he doesn’t feel any more comfortable talking about Robb’s death than Robb does. He doesn’t feel guilty, not really- he didn’t actually kill him, not like he had killed Renly. He had used Melissandre’s spells to get rid of him but that was what he had had to do to avoid a war that would have killed thousands because people didn’t want to recognize their one true king.
But talking to dead people isn’t exactly a comforting thing in any situation.
“I have one of these as well. I don’t really know what their purpose is but they won’t stop making noises like a bird. It has become really bothersome.”
Jimmy makes a startled, undignified noise when Stannis speaks, hands flying up in a fearful sort of gesture — the universal sign for I'm unarmed, please don't kill me. Add to that his chattering teeth and wide eyes, and it's more like: I'm unarmed, I'm freezing, I'm not sure I'm not already dead, please don't make this worse.
"Sorry, I just..." He trails off, huffs out an uneasy laugh. He's not amused; it's a defense mechanism, something he does when he's nervous. Is there any better way to ease tension than laughter? Because he hasn't found one yet, aside from talking way too much. (Never mind that that tactic tends to get him into even more trouble. He'll learn. Someday.) "I guess the cold's numbed my brain to the point of not remembering my manners. Should'a knocked. Can I, um — "
Oh.
His gaze falls on Stannis's sword, and his Adam's apple bobs visibly in the firelight.
"You know what? There's another house not too far away, I think. I'll — I'll leave you alone."
Just as soon as he gets his feet to move again, that is.
Stannis’s lips press together into a thin line. He cannot stand fools, he’s never found them amusing and his daughter jokes sometimes that he’s forgotten how to laugh. So the fact that this man is stuttering and exuding fear doesn’t exactly endear him to the king. But, contrary to what people might think he doesn’t have an empty heart either.
Stannis might have come here with clothes to survive behind the wall, but this man clearly hasn’t. If Stannis was already feeling the unforgiving bite of the cold either this man must be close to freezing. His hand never leaves the hilt of his sword, but he does motion with his head inside.
“No need, the fire is strong enough to protect us both with its light. But know that I will keep an eye on you and any possible weapons you might conceal. I assure you my aim is true.”
In spite of Stannis's vaguely welcoming gesture, Jimmy hesitates. His body is saying yes yes yes to the thought of warmth and shelter, but his mind is saying no no no, do not engage with this maybe-for-real Renaissance man.
But maybe he has his time periods mixed up.
"I'm unarmed, I swear. Here." He pats himself down, turns his pockets out. Even if he is hiding something, which he isn't, it wouldn't be anywhere near enough to stand up to Stannis's sword. "I'm not out to attack anyone. I just wanna make it through the night with all my fingers and toes intact."
Stannis doesn’t often smile. He does, however, allow the corners of his eyes to wrinkle when he’s amused and he has to admit the weirdly dressed man turning he pockets of his clothes upside down is pretty amusing. But he knows better than to trust anyone who gives up so easily and so he gives him a noncommittal grunt in reply.
“For your own sake I hope that is true.” Once more he motions to the fire. “If you have information on this place I would like to know it.”
It's true: Jimmy should not be trusted. Even when he's frightened, he's trying to work the room, so to speak — and if he can make this scary-looking dude laugh, then hey. Perfect.
He approaches the fire after fixing his pockets, smoothing down his shirt, and even adjusting his tie. It almost looks like he's about to approach a business meeting, the way he straightens up and straightens out before taking a seat and holding his hands out for warmth.
"Unfortunately for both of us, it sounds like I know about as much as you do. I'm pretty sure what we're experiencing right now — " He pauses, bending down to untie his shoelaces. Here's hoping Stannis doesn't mind feet, because Jimmy's are soaked and in desperate need of heat. "Falls under the definition of kidnapping. You ever been kidnapped before?"
The answer is short, and there’s an underlying tone of contempt that it’s a question that even needs to be asked. The man doesn’t seem to know who he is so he hasn’t recognized the coat of arms, but Stannis is wearing clothes that would very obviously belong to a nobleman at least. He might have been held hostage, but never kidnapped.
He also looks pretty unimpressed by Jimmy fixing his clothes. He can recognize the air of someone trying to look their best and he respects it, but that thing he wears around his neck looks like a dead man’s noose.
“I do not even remember how I got here so I suspect magic has been involved.” A pause. “I also have a metallic little thing that keeps on making bird noises, would you know anything about that?”
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snowblindmemes2015-05-12 07:10 am
Stannis Baratheon | ASOIAF
To say Stannis is bothered by the situation wouldn’t even begin to cover it. He should be used to having to think quick and adapt to whatever gets on his path, and after years of having Lady Melisandre by his side have made him… well, not amenable to magic. He would never be completely amenable to something so dangerous. A two-edged sword, as Lord Snow had described it. But he had learned to expect the unexpected. But usually the unexpected involved fire, light-shows, people dying in mysterious ways. If the rumors were to be believed it also involved losing his fleet simply because he’d left Melisandre behind.
The unexpected certainly didn’t involve waking up in a strange land, full of strange people and even stranger devices on his pocket that won’t stop chiming. He ignores it.
His first thought had been that he had somehow ended up on the other side of the wall… but no. It didn’t feel right. Nothing about this felt right. After a couple hours wandering in every direction (the hand never leaving the hilt of his sheathed sword), he decides to enter one of the weird-looking houses. Inside, he finds a fire- and maybe he has spent too much time around Lady Melisandre because the sight of it is enough to make any weariness about the house disappear. He approaches, discarding the gloves to warm his fingers-
And then he hears a noise, and quickly turns around.
“Who else is there?” He doesn’t yell it. He doesn’t have to: he’s good at making his voice heard.
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He's freezing and unused to being alone, to providing for himself just to survive. He considers it a lucky fortune that he's found a cabin, with wood and a few meager supplies. He's already made himself a fire, and drawn his fine green cloak tight about himself to try and keep warm (and oh, it seems like he will never be warm again, without Loras) when he hears the door open, and a figure approach his fire (and damn it all, it had taken a long time to build that fire up!)-
Renly grabs for a broken chair leg and raises it above his head to club the intruder, if he must, when he hears-
"...Stannis?" He must look a right fool, prepared to club his brother to death with a chair leg, and he slowly lowers it, but his grip tightens. Yeah, he's still thinking about whacking him...
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"Must you bother me even here, spirit?" He simply lets go of the handle of his bright sword. It would be a weird sort of dream indeed if he were able to get hurt in it. And Stannis can admit to be afraid of certain things but his brother’s ghost isn’t one of them.
“If it is an apology you seek you will find none coming from me.”
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"Spirit?" He sounds indignant, because of course he does. "I am no spirit, no matter how you would like to ignore my existence! Do not insult me so."
And then to further prove that he is not a ghost, he takes the chair leg and he strikes out at Stannis with it, a pretty clumsy swipe that's more to get his attention than do any real damage. "You have many things to apologize for, but I have long given up on expecting one, brother."
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“If you are not a ghost, then what could you possibly be? You died, Renly.”
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"I did no such thing. I am very much alive. It is you who will die on the morrow, if you do not accept my terms." But then he glances out the window of the cabin at the snowy wasteland, and pauses, looking unhappy.
"Well, perhaps not on the morrow. This certainly does alter plans a little..."
no subject
“You have been dead for a very long time now, Renly.” Maybe if he says it one more time Renly will believe him and go back with the Stranger. If he keeps repeating it perhaps things will eventually make sense. Because if Renly isn’t here to seek for an apology then it means his brother isn’t really dead. And he… doesn’t really know how to feel about that. Relief? Anger, at a failed plan?
Hope?
no subject
He doesn't know that these are the thoughts of an innocent summer child.
"You're lying, I will not die. I have my protectors, my own Kingsguard, led by the finest knight in Westeros. My army is greater than yours." Stannis is only trying to get under his skin, that must be it. That is the only reason he can comprehend why Stannis would proclaim him dead.
"You're only trying to frighten me. It won't work."
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The last word is said with more emotion that he’s put into anything he’s said so far. Because Renly never listened, never even cared, never truly understood. Renly forced his brother to kill him and not even that seemed to stop his reckless behavior. Stannis should be afraid, maybe. He is talking to a ghost of the past after all, a spirit. He should maybe feel guilt, remorse- R'hllor knows he feels a pang of it every time he sees a damn peach, even though Renly had left him with no other possible options.
But all he feels is anger because his little brother won’t even stay dead, not even killing seems to get his attention. Even when being murdered he’s happier, nicer, kinder than Stannis will even be. Even when dead Stannis doesn’t seem to be enough for him because he wants more, grander, brighter. Even when R'hllor tosses him into the shadows he still. Won’t. Listen!
“I killed you, brother. I have lived with that knowledge for a long time now.”
no subject
I killed you.
The words are like a sword to the gut. "You couldn't have!" He finally bursts out with. "Kinslaying is a great offense, and anyway, my knights would never let you near enough to- to- How can you say such things?"
no subject
But right now he understands why he had to do it.
"I never laid a hand on you, Renly. But I knew Lady Melisandre's magic would bring you to your death, and I will not insult you by pretending it is not the same as murdering you with my own hands.
Do not insult me either and pretend you wouldn't have killed me if you had had the chance."
no subject
What he heard was the padding of footfalls from a dire wolf. When Robb heard the door open to the house, he moved back into the shadows and hid down the hallway. He wasn't familiar with these surroundings, nor understood where (and how) he was here. Nor did he have any weapons upon him beyond Grey Wind and whatever he could find here within the room.
There's a low growl as a figure of the dire wolf showed itself, after the voice spoke up. Robb couldn't see him well in the dim light of the fire, but he knew enough it was a man, around his height or maybe taller.
Following the dire wolf, Robb made his presence known, coming out of the shadows. "Forgive us for trespassing, I mean no harm. Only to leave the elements of outside." He might have Stark blood in him, wolf's blood, but even he wouldn't last long alone in the snow.
no subject
Stannis is not a stupid man.
He has never personally crossed paths with the young wolf, that’s true. But he met his father quite often at court back in the day- and his mother, who happens to have a striking resemblance with her son. Especially the eyes. So the kid’s looks combined with the fact that a direwolf precedes his arrival… yes, Stannis is not a stupid man indeed. But this should be impossible, so he simply stares at the young king with a raised eyebrow for a second, trying to convince himself he’s wrong even though he knows he isn’t.
“It is not my property to trespass. But I would still like to know your name.”
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Grey Wind takes a seat, panting and anxiously awaiting Stannis's reactions.
"I don't know where we are." Robb decided to at least confess that much.
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“I do not know either. I am Stannis Baratheon, First of his name. King of Westeros. I know of you, Young Wolf.”
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"Aye, and I know of you." Robb commented, trying to be ever so gracious. "Though I am unaware of where we are as compared to the rest of the realm. This is no land that I am familiar of, nor do I believe we're north of the Wall. There are no Weirwood trees--" Robb knew Stannis had The Red Woman with him, filling him with ideas from no god of his, though what specific knowledge he had was limited at best.
"There is something suspicious about this place."
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“The last time I heard of you you had been killed. Gruesomely so.” No one has ever accused Stannis of being gentle, and Robb doesn’t seem to be aware of that fact. Maybe knowing will help them both get a clearer idea about this place.
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He doesn't understand this any more than Stannis. He should be dead and yet his heart was beating in his chest along with the rise and fall of each breath. "I woke up here and with a metal square with text upon it. I've never seen or heard of anything like this."
Stannis was older, perhaps he would know more about such a thing, but Robb couldn't come to any possible conclusions.
no subject
But talking to dead people isn’t exactly a comforting thing in any situation.
“I have one of these as well. I don’t really know what their purpose is but they won’t stop making noises like a bird. It has become really bothersome.”
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"Sorry, I just..." He trails off, huffs out an uneasy laugh. He's not amused; it's a defense mechanism, something he does when he's nervous. Is there any better way to ease tension than laughter? Because he hasn't found one yet, aside from talking way too much. (Never mind that that tactic tends to get him into even more trouble. He'll learn. Someday.) "I guess the cold's numbed my brain to the point of not remembering my manners. Should'a knocked. Can I, um — "
Oh.
His gaze falls on Stannis's sword, and his Adam's apple bobs visibly in the firelight.
"You know what? There's another house not too far away, I think. I'll — I'll leave you alone."
Just as soon as he gets his feet to move again, that is.
no subject
Stannis might have come here with clothes to survive behind the wall, but this man clearly hasn’t. If Stannis was already feeling the unforgiving bite of the cold either this man must be close to freezing. His hand never leaves the hilt of his sword, but he does motion with his head inside.
“No need, the fire is strong enough to protect us both with its light. But know that I will keep an eye on you and any possible weapons you might conceal. I assure you my aim is true.”
i'm so glad this is happening
But maybe he has his time periods mixed up.
"I'm unarmed, I swear. Here." He pats himself down, turns his pockets out. Even if he is hiding something, which he isn't, it wouldn't be anywhere near enough to stand up to Stannis's sword. "I'm not out to attack anyone. I just wanna make it through the night with all my fingers and toes intact."
Glad to provide!
“For your own sake I hope that is true.” Once more he motions to the fire. “If you have information on this place I would like to know it.”
no subject
He approaches the fire after fixing his pockets, smoothing down his shirt, and even adjusting his tie. It almost looks like he's about to approach a business meeting, the way he straightens up and straightens out before taking a seat and holding his hands out for warmth.
"Unfortunately for both of us, it sounds like I know about as much as you do. I'm pretty sure what we're experiencing right now — " He pauses, bending down to untie his shoelaces. Here's hoping Stannis doesn't mind feet, because Jimmy's are soaked and in desperate need of heat. "Falls under the definition of kidnapping. You ever been kidnapped before?"
no subject
The answer is short, and there’s an underlying tone of contempt that it’s a question that even needs to be asked. The man doesn’t seem to know who he is so he hasn’t recognized the coat of arms, but Stannis is wearing clothes that would very obviously belong to a nobleman at least. He might have been held hostage, but never kidnapped.
He also looks pretty unimpressed by Jimmy fixing his clothes. He can recognize the air of someone trying to look their best and he respects it, but that thing he wears around his neck looks like a dead man’s noose.
“I do not even remember how I got here so I suspect magic has been involved.” A pause. “I also have a metallic little thing that keeps on making bird noises, would you know anything about that?”