Éowyn (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wroughtsteel) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ataraxionlogs2014-03-24 11:16 pm
wroughtsteel) wrote in ataraxionlogs2014-03-24 11:16 pm
Entry tags:
( open )
CHARACTERS: Éowyn and anyone!
LOCATION: Anywhere you would like, all over the ship
WARNINGS: None, I think
SUMMARY: Éowyn decides to do a little exploring around the ship, maybe meet more people, etc.
NOTES: Feel free to strike conversation with her or set something up and I can have her approach your character instead! I can work with both brackets and prose, so go with whatever makes you most comfortable.
[There was nothing warm about this place; Éowyn was all too familiar with that feeling. Yet it was a different kind of detachment than the cold that reigned over the lands of Middle Earth. That lingering shadow, spread like a disease far and wide to kingdoms distant, seeped into the skin and settled uncomfortably within one's heart. This place would not instill so much horror, such fear, she should think, yet it did not feel welcoming, despite being peaceful so far, no threats that she could see.
She stepped through hallways and areas unaware of where she was headed, but having no set course she simply roamed, curious she was about the different areas within the ship. She kept her sword fastened to her belt always, and she carried the device given to her upon her arrival, but she did not use it. She did not know it had a purpose, even, but as she watched others around her make use of it she could only guess it must, and more than once she found herself holding the slim black object in an attempt to understand what it was.
But from all the places she saw, it was in the gardens that she found most peace, and felt the safest. Everywhere else was still too foreign, too cold, many a noise surprising her when she least expected to hear them. It was daunting enough to think they sailed a ship entirely made of metal amongst the stars, and as poetic and idyllic as that may sound when told in tales and legends, in songs of gods and people long past, the reality, or in the very least this reality, was all too different. She should like no more than to have her feet upon ground, back in Arda, even if she would find herself back at the Pelennor Fields, facing the Witch-King. Especially then. That moment still hung over her head in endless uncertainty, as if she stood, even now, at the edge of a knife.]
LOCATION: Anywhere you would like, all over the ship
WARNINGS: None, I think
SUMMARY: Éowyn decides to do a little exploring around the ship, maybe meet more people, etc.
NOTES: Feel free to strike conversation with her or set something up and I can have her approach your character instead! I can work with both brackets and prose, so go with whatever makes you most comfortable.
[There was nothing warm about this place; Éowyn was all too familiar with that feeling. Yet it was a different kind of detachment than the cold that reigned over the lands of Middle Earth. That lingering shadow, spread like a disease far and wide to kingdoms distant, seeped into the skin and settled uncomfortably within one's heart. This place would not instill so much horror, such fear, she should think, yet it did not feel welcoming, despite being peaceful so far, no threats that she could see.
She stepped through hallways and areas unaware of where she was headed, but having no set course she simply roamed, curious she was about the different areas within the ship. She kept her sword fastened to her belt always, and she carried the device given to her upon her arrival, but she did not use it. She did not know it had a purpose, even, but as she watched others around her make use of it she could only guess it must, and more than once she found herself holding the slim black object in an attempt to understand what it was.
But from all the places she saw, it was in the gardens that she found most peace, and felt the safest. Everywhere else was still too foreign, too cold, many a noise surprising her when she least expected to hear them. It was daunting enough to think they sailed a ship entirely made of metal amongst the stars, and as poetic and idyllic as that may sound when told in tales and legends, in songs of gods and people long past, the reality, or in the very least this reality, was all too different. She should like no more than to have her feet upon ground, back in Arda, even if she would find herself back at the Pelennor Fields, facing the Witch-King. Especially then. That moment still hung over her head in endless uncertainty, as if she stood, even now, at the edge of a knife.]
somewhere in the gardens
He's aimlessly wandering when he hears someone nearby. It's a woman wearing a sword, which is somewhat unusual on this ship. Seeing her reminds Thor of the Lady Sif, and he finds himself missing his friend fiercely. All the same, he's glad she isn't trapped on the ship with them.
Thor quickly decides that anyone wearing a sword is someone he would like to meet, so he makes his way towards the woman. When he gets close enough to speak easily he calls out to her.]
Greetings.
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She, of course, expects that she would find someone else eventually. Surely she is not the only one welcoming the peace that the place has to offer. When she hears the voice she turns slowly, not at all startled but still taking a second to return the greeting with a tilt of her head and a small curtsy, unsure as of yet how to address the stranger.]
Good day.
((ooc: oh man I knew I had forgotten to tag into something! Sorry for never getting around to tagging Thor on the jump log. I'm really glad you dropped him here. (: ))
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I hope I'm not disturbing you. I know some come here to get away and find some peace and quiet.
((ooc: No problem!))
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[She is sure that she cannot be the only one not only out of place here, but also out of time. Not that this man looks it particularly, but she has no notion of what these other worlds may be like after all, or how different or similar they are to her own. She takes a step closer, as he seems friendly enough, and hardly a threat.] I ought to introduce myself, forgive me. I am Éowyn, of Rohan.
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gardens!
she's not the queen so needle remains in its leather scabbard, but what arya hides behind a smooth veneer nymeria shows. a growl rips from the animal, a low warning. half-hidden behind nymeria, arya glares with barely-disguised suspicion at éowyn.
the art of making friends: got it. ]
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She turns around in a scare, nearly jumping as she does so, a gasp leaving her lips when she finds herself faced with a wolf - a great wolf, larger than any she has ever seen or heard of. There is no draw of her sword, however. She does not wish to startle the animal into attacking her, and just as she takes half a step back, she notices the girl near the wolf.]
... hello? [Discarding entirely the question that runs through her mind: do you need help?, because it does not look at all like she does.]
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better to seem a child until she knows more. arya bends down to retrieve her flowers. she fixes them so they're not in danger of being crushed. as she does so, she sneaks glances at éowyn, feigning shyness. ]
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I am sorry, was it because of me that you dropped your flowers? [Éowyn kneels on the ground, very slowly as to not startle neither the animal nor the girl - she has a feeling that one will lead to the other in any case -, shifting her own sword only barely so that it does not hinder her as she does so.] I can help you find more if you would like.
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hallways.
Jaime almost peels away, headed back towards civilisation as the unknown maiden wanders into more treacherous territory, until he watches her stop.
His approach is unsubtle -- when he fights, he is fleet of foot, but he is only walking at a bearish lumber. Grizzled beard clings to his jaw, his hair long about the ears and his nape. An impressive sword is strapped to his hip -- on the right, as it must, considering the fact his right sleeve is empty of a hand. His clothing is well tailored and constructed, for all that his more noble bearing has taken a beating.
It's his whole hand that reaches out, inviting her to pass to him the little glassy black tablet that's confounded him too. ]
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Yet each unexpected change catches her by surprise, and just like she startles whenever a door opens while she walks down a hallway, when she sees a hand silently reaching out, her shoulders tense and her head snaps up in surprise.
There is a moment when she simply glances from the man and down to his hand, and hesitantly, once she realizes he is asking for the slim object, she holds it out and places it in his palm.] Do you perhaps know what this is?
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A talking magic mirror.
[ This is not spoken with reverence, or scholarly explanation -- sarcasm tinges his tone green, because of course it's a talking magic mirror, has Éowyn never seen one of those before.
He offers it out again for her to take.
Having turned it on for her.
You're welcome. ]
It captures your reflection and casts it unto the mirrors of others, showing them your face rather than theirs. So I've heard.
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She notes the sarcasm, but says nothing to it, both because she is trying still to make sense of what he has just told her and because there is nothing proper or polite in addressing it to someone she has only just met.]
A mirror. [She repeats the words and looks down to the object in her hand, now showing a different image from before.] As if to see others. But it is not doing so now, I suppose one must tell it to?
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comm shenanigans!!
Forgive me.
[ is what robb says first as he pauses at her side, a respectful distance away. grey wind draws to a halt at his side, eyes on eowyn. ]
Has no one explained to you how that device works?
awyeee
No. [Her eyes settle on the men for less than a second before they fall on the wolf standing near him. She tenses slightly, but says nothing of it.] ... although I do see some people making use of it.
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He'll not harm you.
[ reassuring, though he doesn't wait for a response, continues on to what robb considers the thing of greatest importance. ]
I can teach you of these devices, if you wish it. I was fortune when I arrived to have been instructed of their use.
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If it is indeed useful, I would much appreciate it. If you do not mind that I would take time from you.
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Gardens!
She straightened, letting the free-flow of movements stop, and sent the woman a smile, and a bit of a wave. She was coming to find that all sort of fun people liked to frequent the gardens, so this should be interesting.
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This woman, particularly, she found fascinating. She wore garments that Éowyn had never seen before, and her hair caught in an updo of the oddest fashion. Yet what caught her attention most was not how she looked, but what she was doing. She found herself watching the fluid and entirely foreign motions for a long time, not even realizing at first that when the woman stopped, it was because of her presence.
"Oh. Forgive me for my intrusion," she apologized immediately, back straightening and head lowering. "I did not mean to interrupt you whilst you were..."
A moment as she tried to even put a name to what she was looking at before. "Training."
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gardens;
Some days, however, her defiance comes secondary to anger at being kept from the things that are familiar to her. Daylight. Wind. The smell of the sea. Her children.
(How can she protect them if she cannot reach them? How can she trust anyone else to keep them safe?)
It is Myrcella's pleated locks that come to mind when the younger woman passes, and that catch her attention before the weapon at her belt. But that, too, does not go unnoticed. ]
Have they begun handing out swords to women now, along with the breeches?
[ Her tone is not terribly kind, but mild, as she leans from her position near the edge of a stream. ]
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Éowyn is not wearing trousers, as she had also been given two of her dresses, along with her sword, but as she passes near the other woman, she knows it is to her exactly that she speaks. There is a hint of something indiscernible in her tone, or perhaps all too familiar for Éowyn, who, most often on kind words, is much used to hearing from others what she should or not do.
She slows to a halt and turns until she is facing her, then inclines her head in greeting.]
I am sorry if it is discouraging, my Lady, but this sword has been mine for many years now. Although I suppose I ought to [The next words come dry, dripping as if with poison, but she says them politely nonetheless.] be thankful that this vessel has permitted me to keep it.
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[ But, what can one do. A tilt of her head, a shrug of her shoulders, as if none of it matters to her very much, except that there is common ground to be found in even the politest of bitterness. ]
And what use have you for a sword where you come from? [ with gentle lilt, ] Are you a knight?
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Gardens
A small smile crossed her face as she recognized the woman she had met after the jump.]
You have found my favorite place aboard the ship, I see.
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I believe I have found mine just as well. [She inclines her head in greeting, her mind much clearer now that when she looks upon the other, Éowyn can tell easily that she is an elf.] Although it is not the same, this is the place that reminds me most of home.
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I am glad that we have found each other once again; I realized only after the fact that I neglected to introduce myself at our first meeting. [And now she inclines her head.] I am called Galadriel.
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