dear_mun | voice testing (canon is apocalypse now)

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obscure canon: movies

voice testing (canon is apocalypse now)

They say life goes on, but who's to say it ever started? I've seen death, I've seen the light pass out of men's eyes and the cold that came after, but I can't say what that cold replaced. I can't say it made much of a difference.

Everyone says life is valuable. Maybe that's just some trick we have to convince ourselves this is all worthwhile. What this world's full of is eyes, echoes, hollow spaces where there oughtta be something solid. The shit I've seen— I fell into something that pulled back the curtain from the world. Showed me its darkness.

I haven't been able to shake it since.

It followed me here, wherever here is. Whoever you are, and don't get me wrong, I'm not asking for answers. Even in the middle of fucking nowhere, there's always gonna be someone in command. And if there's one thing I know how to do, it's following orders through to the end. So tell me what to do. Where to go. It's all the same to me.

There's no point in lying about it: there's only one place I'll ever really be, and as far as the rest of the world is concerned, that place never existed. Seems like everything I've seen and done just didn't happen, and I've gotten to feeling like the world's moved on without me. Like I was never a part of it, and maybe it never existed the way I thought.

Thinking like that, things get a little hairy.

What I know is the world out there's got nothing I want, not even silence. So I'll stick around, sure. Got nothing better to do.

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[She nods slowly]
My papa. If I find he's not here I'll go look for Jaime or Tyrion. They are my cousins. Back home Jaime's fighting in the war and Tyrion is helping Joffrey. He's my nephew and the King. Even though there are many kings now and all of them are at war.

[He'd thought that things had started to fall back into place. He'd thought that the world was taking shape again, instable as that shape might be.

Now he isn't sure. This girl might be nuts or could be possessed of an overactive imagination, but she seems pretty earnest about what she's saying. It doesn't make a lick of sense to Willard - war he gets; kings are another story - but then he isn't in a position to take the measure of sense. Or to level judgment (the word brings a sting of its own).

In any case, she's here, and he might as well try to keep up a conversation.] War catches everyone like that. [Shit, that can't be an appropriate topic for a little girl. Even if she did bring it up.]

When was the last time you saw your father?

[She nods at the sentence. Everybody seemed too caught up in the war, and changed by it. Even cousin Lancel, who now seemed like a Septon for what she knew. And cousin Jaime had lost a hand and cousin Tyrion his nose. She prayed for papa to be well and safe and to be able to return safely and take her to a place that wasn't sad and terrible like Westeros.]

I go and pray very hard to the gods so it ends soon.

The last time I saw my papa? I was three or four. He went across the Narrow Sea in the search for a sword. A legendary sword called Brightroar.

[You don't tell kids the gods are lies. Willard won't explicitly encourage the idea, and even his silence almost seems too much like support, but the girl's life isn't any of his business. Let her have her gods right now, even if a part of him screams to just share the goddamn truth.

The more advisable option is to move along. Try to handle this talk of swords... Christ, it's like she thinks she lives in some kind of fairy tale. A fairy tale plagued by war, which pretty much destroys the charm.]

All right. That's a big journey. [What the hell else is he going to say to a kid?]

I, ah, can't say I've seen anyone. I just got here. But I'll keep an eye out. What's your daddy look like?

[A sword called Brightroar, what the hell?]

[Oh but they do exist! The ones to believe they not exist are the people of the North, who believe in other gods, the iron islanders, who believe in a water god, and some fire god that still has little supporters in Westeros.

She does live in a very sucky version of Medieval Europe, you know.]

He's tall and strong and has green eyes like me and his hair is blond like mine and he has blond hair like mine though his is shorter, it only reaches to his shoulders and he has a beard and he is always smiling and making japes and telling stories. His name is Gerion.

[That description doesn't exactly narrow the field, but then Willard figures that the odds of running into this guy are slim. Still, doesn't hurt to be aware.]

All right. Gerion. I'll keep that in mind.

[Christ knows what she's been doing on her own for this long, but she seems to've gotten along all right. Best that he doesn't inquire too far. Probably best that he doesn't know.]

Milady mundane says this place has good magic and maybe I'll can find him there. Back home he's been away for a long time. Since I was four and I am now eleven. They say he's most surely dead. But this place has good magic.
[She nods, even though it might be more to reassure herself]
May I help you find someone too, Ser? Maybe I could help you find your squire. Because you look like you are a knight who's been at war, and all knights have squires. Oh, and I forgot...
[She makes a cute little curtsey]
I am Joy Hill.

[This probably isn't the time to tell her that magic isn't any more real than the gods. (Though after what he's seen and felt... He could almost believe it. He could almost believe anything, and what is there proves that magic can't be found? What's to say the gods aren't enthroned somewhere above or walking around, what's to say men can't become gods, themselves?) His head is burning, feels like fever but he gets the sense it's something else. Just the thought of all of this. Just seeing pieces that shouldn't fit.

Like knights and squires and little girls who curtsy. He'd had a niece who liked to play at being a princess, but this is a whole new level of, Christ, whatever it is. No sense trying to define what he doesn't have words or comprehension for.]

I guess you'd better listen to her on that, Joy. I'm pretty new around here. [And maybe this is somehow a place for finding people, but that doesn't do Willard a damned bit of good. He already found the man he'd been sent for, and Willard would be pretty happy if he never ran into anyone again. He certainly isn't seeking someone in particular. Just quiet, maybe. A little peace of mind.

As for whether the girl's father is dead or not... Shit. Willard's vote would be that it's likely the case, but again, this isn't the time to say it. And he doesn't know. There're always exceptions, and he's seen men come through the seemingly impassable.] Anyway, there's no telling for sure. You'd be surprised what a man can survive.

[And how the hell's he supposed to introduced himself? He sure as shit isn't going to bow, but he can't remember how you're supposed to address a kid on a normal basis, either. He settles for squatting down, elbows resting on his knees. If nothing else, he's got a better look at her eyes.] You can call me Mister Willard. Or just Ben.

Edited 2013-06-07 13:05 (UTC)

[He'll understand soon. And she's not a princess. But her niece is and her niece is the best princess and she'll be married to someone who will give her nice dresses and who will love her much and be happy.]
I'm very new too, so I pay attention to her [She nods] She knows better.

[She nods again.] And my papa is a Lannister. As our maester likes to say, we've gone through worse and survived. We are lions.

It's a pleasure
[And she nods and speaks more to herself than anything else.] Though I didn't know of House Willard. And my father made sure I knew all the Houses.

[Maybe the girl's - what was it called? - mundane knew better, and maybe she knew jack shit. Willard half-nods noncommittally, deciding not to touch it. And if there's anyone maneuvering the pieces of his own existence in this place, he's not about to go looking for ways to communicate. Not as if it'd be worthwhile, anyway.

Again, her words don't fit any sense he knows, but Willard follows along as best he can, figuring that he'll try to hold the pieces in mind and see what kind of a picture they form. He isn't hopeful that he'll come up with much, or that the pieces will even stay for long, but if that's the best he can do for now, so be it.]

I'm gonna take a wild guess and say we aren't coming from the same place. Must be different countries. [Or something more, even, though he can't quite process that yet.] I can't say I know what you mean by 'house.' [he could come up with guesses, but why bother with the pretense?]

In any case, I'd say a lion's not a bad thing to be.

Edited 2013-06-16 08:35 (UTC)

[According to Joy, her mundane knows all. And she could be a maester. (except girls can't be maesters, but she could be a very wise septa). So she'll pay attention to everything she says.]
My mundane says you come from a place called America. Is it beyond the Narrow Sea? I come from the Westerlands. It is one of the Seven Kingdoms.
[She nods with a smile.]
A house is a family. There are eight noble houses in Westeros: Stark, Greyjoy, Tully, Arryn. Baratheon, Tyrell, Martell and Targaryen. Though there are more houses sworn to them.
We are House Lannister of Casterly Rock, and we have sworn to us a lot of houses. The Noble houses are Algood, Banefort, Bettley, Brax, Broom, Crakehall, Doggett, Drox, Estren, Falwell,Farman, Ferren, Foote, Garner, Hamell, Jast, Kenning, Lannister of Lannisport, Lefford, Lydden, Marbarnd, Moreland, Myatt, Payne, Peckledon, Plumm, Prester, Sarsfield, Serrett, Spicer, Stackspear, Turnberry, Westerling and Yarwyck.
And the knightly houses are Clegane, Clifton, Greenfield, Hetherspoon, Lorch, Ruttiger, Swyft, Vikary and Yew.
[She nods]

[All right. So the girl's mundane (the hell kind of a word is that, anyway?) knows something about him. Or the girl does and is pushing the information off on this supposed mundane, though that's getting too tangled to bother with and Willard figures he's better off taking her word on this.

From the jungle, straight to... Inconsistency. Instability. Or maybe just something inexplicable.]

That sure is a list. [It's almost like listening to someone reel off the names of top-ranking officers, though he isn't about to offer any such review in response. He doesn't want to think the names, let alone start spreading them around here. If this is a new space, somehow, he'd rather keep those names out of it. Maybe - probably not, probably the idea's ridiculous and ill-advised, the product of a mind in lingering shock - maybe this is a chance to live without any of that hanging on him. The thought almost offers a breath, a flicker of light.]

Never heard of the Narrow Sea, honey. Or the Seven Kingdoms. I don't think it's something we need to worry about. [Not something he needs to worry about. If she's really looking for her father, though...]

I don't suppose your... whoever it is knows where we are now?

[She nods happy.]
We are one of the richest houses of the Seven Kingdoms and our houses are very faithful to us. Except the Reynes and the Tarbecks, but uncle Tywin ended them. There's even a song about that. It's called "The Rains of Castamere".
[She would sing the song. But it's too scary. So she'll try to answer to the question.]
I believe she's not completely sure in that matter. She only says that it allows people like you and me, who come from very different places, to meet.
If you want, I could tell you more of the Seven Kingdoms.

[Willard doesn't have any especial desire to hear more about kingdoms and castles, but there isn't much else around, and it's something that'll keep his mind at least partially occupied. Besides, he's starting to get the sense that he's better off knowing what this girl might have to tell. Who knows where he might end up? All things considered, it isn't impossible that the girl's world exist, and that he might end up in it.

Okay, so that's completely fucked. But everything is, here. Maybe everything. There isn't any telling, and Willard figures he'd better not let himself think to far into it.

Instead, he shrugs, gives the girl something that might be a nod.] Sure, go ahead.

[Pulling out a pack of cigarettes, Willard pauses.] Mind if I smoke?

[He feels only moderately foolish posing the question to a child; somehow, it'd seem stranger still to simply start smoking in front of her. Might be another one of those things he just shouldn't think about.]

Edited 2013-07-01 08:36 (UTC)

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voice testing (canon is apocalypse now)

:D heheheheheeeeh

also now i have this bizarre desire to see sandor and willard meet idek.

Lol, it would be a very depressing and angsty meeting

best kind of meetings!

Still, a meeting where I would not want to be (or want Joy to be)

yeah well good call. >.> i mean, when is sandor + anyone a happy encounter?

And an encounter not recommended for little girls (except Arya Stark)

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