re: ...that episode.

[northless]

...I don't want to talk about it. [It being, you know, seeing himself die. He lets out a shaky breath--it's still a shock, even if he knew it would happen, and even if it didn't technically happen to him, just a version of himself.]

I really don't want to talk about it, other than I hope you're not actually going to put me or other-me [and jeez that's still kind of weird to say] through the wringer just to make yourself feel better. I know how you work, and it's not going to make either of us feel any better, trust me on that.

Comments

[usually]

You know you're already too late, don't you? There's about three different versions of you running around her head right now. All of them are...falling over.

w/e too lazy to have a modern account but talking modern anyway idek this is crack

[bitchslapper]

I see you got our regards. Chin up. You can't exactly help the fact that Casterly Rock holds stock in HBO.

[northless]

[Really starting to wish he'd brought along a bottle of wine or two.]

...Well, shit. [This would probably make for a really good FMyLife entry, wouldn't it.]

[usually]

[He has wine in most of them. :>]

I think the major point being made is that pain is a symptom of life?

gdi cersei

[northless]

[God, Cersei, you are the last person he wants to see right now.]

So that's why. Nice to know the joke about D&D being Lannister men has some basis in reality.

:3

[bitchslapper]

We show up first in the credits for a reason. I doubt it's any comfort but, in a way, you died better than your father. Just for worse reasons.

[Nope, not a comfort at all.]

[northless]

[He doesn't have wine here. It sucks.]

Or that it's really easy to reduce millions of people to incoherent sobbing.

[usually]

I wouldn't exactly call it easy. Lulling them into a false sense of security over the course of three years probably took some work.

[northless]

No, it isn't. [His tone's curt, tense. What does it matter if he died better than his father did? They're both still dead--

--and okay, breathe, Stark, breathe.]

[bitchslapper]

By the way, your sister's a Lannister now.

[nope. zero fucks. look she's not exactly happy with how she's written either, ok? damn "historical accuracy."]

[northless]

True. I think she's still reeling, [and he jerks his thumb backwards to indicate his mun] and she knew what was going to happen. We both did.

[Other-him didn't, but he supposes the cat's out of the bag now.]

[usually]

Just make her watch it and get it over with. It's far more torture waiting for the ax to fall.

[northless]

I saw the spoilers, I know.

[And maybe his words come out a bit harsher than usual. He's had a rough time of it.]

[northless]

[Somewhere off in the distance there's a high-pitched shriek of you can't make me!!]

...there's your answer.

[bitchslapper]

All the truth you know.

[is she a happy drunk? hahahahaha... no. :c]

[usually]

Better than making the one I answer to watch it over and over again for your handler's benefit.

[northless]

Some things I don't want to know.

[bitchslapper]

Sounds like you need to talk to that wildling your bastard brother's grown so fond of.

[northless]

[You still can't make me!!]

You think I haven't tried?

[usually]

Isn't persistence supposedly one of your strengths?

[northless]

[Somewhere in the headspace someone's sitting on Jon.]

We probably will, soon enough. [In whatever afterlife there is in Westeros.]

[bitchslapper]

Wonder what your father will have to say.

[northless]

Yeah, but guess who else is persistent about it.

[Hint: his mun.]

And who says I'm not still trying?

[usually]

Perhaps in due time then. Give it a week or so.

[mishandled]

It's terribly unpleasant, isn't it.

[Spoken with the detached air of one who's had a few more weeks to adjust to the complete horribleness of... well.]

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

[What, Robb, you're looking strange and furless and also you know. Alive.]

That's still talking about it.

[northless]

I'm asking her not to.

[And you're looking dirtier than he last saw you. And taller. God, he missed you, Arya.]

[northless]

I figure dying in general isn't exactly a walk in the park.

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

You should just change the subject.

[The feeling is so very mutual, even if she's trying not to let it show :c]

[mishandled]

Well, no. Sorry about -- that, by the way. [Condolences are important, even if they're to someone on their alternate self's passing, right? Right.]

And sorry about any through-the-wringer escapades other-you might be subjected to, that's got to suck.

[northless]

[Well, it's something, at least.]

Yeah. And, uh--sorry about yours.

Trust me, it does. For some reason it makes her feel better.

[northless]

Fine, then.

[A pause, then:] How about, where have you been?

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

[She maybe should have specified a not-her topic, but. Look at that Unsure face.]

A ship. In the stars.

[mishandled]

Thanks. Not that knowing it was coming really helps, but not being prepared for it is a different kind of awful.

Huh. My mun's reaction to my counterpart's tragedy, once she'd ranted and raved and sulked, was to immediately find a place for me in the series of relatively fluffy modern fics she's attempting to write. She's more of a sentimentalist than she'd like to admit, but so far I'm not complaining.