i've looked at clouds from both sides now (𝐧𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥)

[possessum]

<sup>Who: Peter Graham + you! Prompts will be placed here.
What: Canon update business, potential event things, tba.
When: Through the month of November.
Where: Various places in Trench / tba.

Content Warnings: This character comes with demonic possession by default. There's a gif including nudity (non-sexual, just a couple of people shown naked from behind) in one of the posts. Additional warnings will be placed in individual spaces.</sup>

^{( On Peter's birthday and Blessed Month, he will go through a canon update that's given him updated memories. For weeks 1 - 3 he will mentally be MIA, and Paimon/Charlie may be interacted with. On week 4, Peter will return. Closed starters will be placed under the appropriate posts. Please hit me up @ plot post / plurk / large bat#2354 / pm if you're interested in a starter / if you'd like to plot for the month! )}

Comments

[dohaeris]

[it's a question sansa's gotten before in trench. she's never sure how to answer it. she shuts her eyes briefly, and draws a breath.]

Four, I hope, in the sea.

[she usually hedges this in careful wordplay, unthinkingly, but that seems...cruel here, somehow.]

One of them was killed, at home, but he could still come here anyway.

[she eyes a fabric scrap carefully, trying to determine its size relative to the doll paimon gave her.]

Are your dolls very little?

[they could be different to paimon's, but sansa thinks they are probably more similar than not, if they've been using the same pile of scraps. she sees nothing strange in this––she imagines the children in flea bottom construct such toys for themselves or their siblings, if their parents don't do it for them.]

[possessum]

( Four brothers. It's a lot to imagine, and her eyes widen a little bit again. One was... killed? But he could come here?

Charlie doesn't quite understand, or what the girl means by "in the sea", but she has learned (or perhaps always known) some quiet acceptance of strange things. Sometimes impossible things. She stares at the older girl, quiet and solemn and thoughtful. She has context for the loss of a brother, at least. Not her own, but— )

Mom's brother died. A long time ago. ( Soft and mumbled like always, but she has intention to the words, finds herself carrying through the thought to another one, listing facts the way children often do. )

That's who I'm named after. Because I was supposed to be a boy, too.

( It's more than she'd usually say to a stranger, but perhaps some part of her, the part that belongs to the Other, knows that this graceful young woman is a safe space to talk to. )

Yeah. Mostly little. ( She affirms, slowly lifting her hands and spreading them apart to show the usual size. ) I like little things.

[dohaeris]

[sansa looks up sharply, because this is new information. the spirit in peter's body isn't a boy. does that mean she's a girl? sansa has met all sorts of genders working with the performers of cellar door, but those were grown personalities, larger than life. this feels like a little girl, but sansa knows her frame of reference for this is small and influenced largely by the culture of westeros.

she folds a strip of interesting looking fabric in half and cuts it.]

Yes, it's much easier for boys to do anything, where I come from. Here, nobody cares very much if you're a boy or a girl or whatever else. I think my sister would like it; she was much more interested in doing things girls weren't supposed to do. I liked everything they told me girls were supposed to do, but they were cruel to me there anyway. Here I don't even need guards to walk around the city––

[she smiles wryly.]

Well, except for Lady.

[possessum]

( Charlie freezes, still and listening. There are things that worry her, confuse her, sometimes. Maybe a lot of times, especially as she gets older. Grandma wanted her to be a boy, she knows that. Grandma dressed her in boy clothes ever since she was younger — sometimes things she bought Charlie herself, but a lot of the time she just wears Peter's hand-me-downs, perpetually big on her much smaller frame. It's... difficult, sometimes, wondering if Grandma would love her more if she were a boy. If maybe Mom wouldn't be so unhappy, either. Something's wrong in the family; it's always been wrong. )

Why were they.... mean to you? ( She ventures after another lenghty pause. If she did everything girls were supposed to do, then why were people mean? But of course, Charlie understands that concept. People think she doesn't notice, but she does. )

...Was it kids at school? They can be mean.

[dohaeris]

[sansa smiles ruefully. sometimes her experiences feel so far removed from everyone else's she feels like they may as well be different species. she wishes she could have gone to a school like they did. sansa snips here and there as she speaks, carving her pieces of fabric into pieces of a simple dress.]

There wasn't any school for girls, in my realm. There was only a school where boys can learn to be Maesters, and then the Maesters taught us in our homes. My family lived in a castle with a lot of other ones, and we all did lessons together. Girls had lessons with a Septa, too, for sewing and courtesies and things, while boys practiced fighting in the yard.

[she remembers telling peter this.]

No one at home was ever cruel to me, [she generously decides not to mention arya's pranks] but I would have liked to go to school. Not the one for Maesters, but one like my friends here all went to in their worlds.

[stories from luna, adaine, and ochako loom large in sansa's mind, so her impression of school is perhaps not entirely accurate to many earth teen experiences. she finishes snipping and sets her fabric down, fishing a case of threads out of her satchel.]

I always wanted to be a lady and have a castle, but a lot of the men in my realm think ladies aren't as important as lords. And when I had to pretend to be a girl who wasn't highborn, it was even worse. We stayed at an inn once, and the men kept trying to grab me.

[not to mention littlefinger...she selects a thread that matches the fabric well enough, and snips off a length of it, setting the spool carefully aside in case she needs it later. she withdraws a needle from her sleeve and proceeds to thread it.]

Mostly people were cruel to me because of the war.

[she sighs and picks up the fabric pieces, beginning a running backstitch on one side.]

The king on the iron throne killed my father and took me prisoner. My mother and brother had to fight a war to avenge him and save me. That was how my brother died. I escaped, but I had to hide. That was why I was pretending to be another girl.

[she finishes one side, knots it, and snips. she's gotten faster in trench, both from long practice and the physical enhancements sleeper bodies allow.]

Were they cruel to you, too?

[she starts sewing the other side.]

You don't have to tell me if you don't want.

[possessum]

( A castle.....

Has Peter.. made friends with a princess? Charlie knows her older brother has a hard time around girls, so the thought of him having girl friends at all is... unique, but this girl is something else entirely. She lived in a castle.

Charlie stays completely quiet as she listens, eyes fixed on the older girl's hands as she begins working. The girl's life does sound like something out of a fairy tale, dark and filled with loss. Maybe on some level, she would think the girl's pretending, making everything up, but.... on a deeper level, Charlie knows she isn't. Trusts she isn't. She can't understand why, but Paimon's experiences are there underneath, and the demon king knows Sansa.

Charlie thinks she trusts her. And so, even though it's not something she'd talk about usually, she finally speaks up. )

Sometimes they're mean. They don't like me much.

( She doesn't seem too affected by the admission on the surface, just continuing to watch Sansa as she sews, attention fixated on it. But more pieces come out, slow and weighted— )

Especially the older kids. At Peter's school. They think I'm weird.

( She pauses, and then asks, rounds back to it, abruptly— )

Are you a princess?

[dohaeris]

[sansa almost laughs. not anymore.. but instead she smiles gently.]

By rights, I'm Lady of Winterfell and Warden of the North, but our enemies hold the Iron Throne, and they gave the North to the traitors that killed my mother and brother. I mean to win it back.

[she finishes the other seam, knots it, and snips. she starts a tiny hem on the bottom of the dress; perhaps she'll finish the sleeves and the collar with a bit of trimming.]

And anyone who would be cruel on purpose to a younger child is a coward on top of everything else. I should like to tell them how horrible they are, but of course people like that never listen.

[she idly scans the craft pile for bits of ribbon as she sews...]

[possessum]

( Charlie follows the words slowly and quietly, and always staring down at what Sansa's working on. Once more, there's little reaction on the surface to learning that the older girl's mother is dead as well as her brother, but..... she's listening. And there's an odd ache within her at the thought, something that touches down into a deep, dark place.

Who's gonna take care of me?

In any case, she doesn't fully grasp Royal Things, it all sounds very complicated, but she's still prone to perceiving the girl beside her as a princess. She looks like one, and speaks like one, and has a big wolf. Charlie wonders if she can sing. )

I think they don't like... when I draw them. I drew the girl Peter likes, and she looked at it funny.

( She... is definitely not talking about Luna, here. )