deercountry | my smile is like I won a contest

[it started of course with an unsettling face in the crowds of willful machine; lady barked once but the presence seemed to dissipate before sansa could even get a word out. I know the difference between a monster and a wolf. the next time she manages to spit it out, but lady still can't get ahold of a scent. soon weirwood sap begins to seep from her eyes, and treacherous thoughts from the back of her mind. everyone is your enemy, everyone is your friend. the faces could belong to anyone. knight faithfully licks the corruption from her blood, but it only returns, and panic begins to set in. she wonders frantically if the zealots have chosen her somehow, if this is how it starts. weirwood twigs and leaves twist upwards from her skin and hair, she can taste a mixture of resin and blood as the sap fills her mouth, tinting her teeth pink.

with her heart beating frantically and weirwood branches curling around her neck, she heads for the wellness center and its sanctuary tree.

she can be found there eating its flowers, slender weirwood branches poking through her charcoal linen dress, a mixture of tears and weirwood sap on her face.]

Edited 2023-05-19 16:23 (UTC)

[More time at the Sanctuary and the Wellness Center has meant that he sees Sansa more regularly. Which translates to being more aware of her presence - even if he almost never picks up on her moods in the incidental ways he's used to emotions rolling off of people, which he wavers between finding soothing, when he struggles with processing everyone else's emotions on top of his own, and disconcerting.

Today he has a sense that something is...off, even before he sees her.

And then, when he does spot her by the sanctuary tree, he goes still for a beat, to acknowledge his spike of worry/fear before he takes a breath to recenter himself.

Calm. He must be calm. Assess the situation.

He crouches beside her, and prompts, with a gentle-.]

Sansa?

[lady catches ezra's gaze before sansa can turn and speak, letting out a mournful, flat-eared whimper. behind her knight the bloodhound lifts his head, the odd red presence between his antlers round and full. s'mores paces around the courtyard, ears flat; sansa's white raven omen ruffling his feathers over and over anxiously.

sansa turns towards ezra, willing herself not to fret over the sap on her face and the branches in her hair (some might find it oddly lovely, the red and white complementing her natural coloring in a less than natural way, her lips reddened as if by makeup)––this isn't hard, because she realizes it didn't even occur to her to talk to anyone at home about the situation, and she wonders if that in itself is a sign of corruption. her voice is strained and teary when she speaks.]

Nothing's working. I don't know what it means. I suppose I could try the Lumenarium––

[there's a crumpled flower in her hands, and she looks down at it. she doesn't like to think there's a form of corruption lady amaterasu's flowers can't treat, but she tells herself this is a silly thought for silly girls. she looks back at ezra.]

I can't think what else could be troubling me. I suppose it could be what Knight Brienne told me about my mother, but that was weeks ago.

[not very many weeks, but it's strange that it should show up now.]

She said she would burn the body and trade Ser Jaime for my pardon and things. I didn't think it worried me overmuch...

[nothing seems to lesson with this revelation. she lets out a choked sob as the weirwood branches sprouting from her body continue to twist and grow.]

[Ezra listens quietly.]

You have confirmation of your mother's death?

[sansa frowns, more in concentration than anything else. it isn't always easy for her to remember what she's told to who, and she's afraid the corruption is making it worse.]

I thought I told you that they slit her throat and threw her in the river, at my uncle's wedding where they were supposed to have guest right. My brother too, they cut off his head and sewed his wolf's on in its place––

[she chokes back a sob. her mother at least belonged to the trident as much as to winterfell; if it were robb they could bring his bones back to winterfell. she wonders if this thought, too, is corruption––it doesn't feel like her, no stark would want their remains subjet to necromancy at all. she picks her head up, heavy with weirwood branches, and looks at ezra.]

Someone fished her body out and did necromancy; her sworn sword told me she had strange eyes and a cut throat and had a lot of people in the Riverlands doing her bidding. She said it wasn't like her at all, and she made Knight Brienne bring her Jaime Lannister, one of our enemies, or else she would kill her squire and companion, and my mother would never do that, she wouldn't kill innocent people, even in a war. And Ser Jaime is a valuable hostage, she was going to trade him to the Lannisters for me, so I can't see why she would want to kill him instead of trying it again.

[it's still hard for sansa to believe that her mother would risk a valuable hostage when robb was coming to get her anyway, especially with only one sworn sword to guard him, and no advance notice. brienne had said she was worried for jaime's safety with some of the northmen having returned to riverrun very angry, but it still makes very little sense to her. perhaps she had sent a raven beforehand, and it had simply been kept from sansa, as so much had.]

I told Knight Brienne to bring him to Cersei and trade him for a pardon for me, and for the North and the Riverlands and whatever she could get. I told her to find the necromancer and burn my mother's body and take the ashes to Riverrun or to Winterfell. I was upset to hear what happened, but it gave me hope that she had Ser Jaime. I didn't feel any corruption then, so I don't understand why I would now. And it isn't getting better, talking to you. I thought it would, but it isn't.

I don't think you told me about the necromancy part, no. [He's pretty sure he'd remember that bit.

There are reasons the Jedi traditionally burn their dead.]

It may not be internal balance. Or not imbalance enough that you'd usually be so quickly corrupted. It could be an external curse, or-[He frowns, and sighs]

A lesson of the patron. [If one cares to make that distinction.]

Can you think of anything else that might be a clue, if it is one of those sorts of things?

[While he's thinking out loud, he dithers internally, because he wants very much to comfort her. He lands on holds out his hands, and letting her decide if she wants to take them.]

[she reaches for his hands, as much to see as if it will help with the corruption as anything.]

I only just met Knight Brienne in the portals. I didn't know about any of it before that.

[she frowns again.]

Bausphomette wants us to grow, and be better. I don't think they would do corruption. And if they did, I think the talking would help. I talked with them last year, after I stopped being Alayne. They were kind, and they helped me to be a Stark again. Even when they cursed me, they said it was to help me learn. I have heard––

[she draws a breath, grasping at ezra's hands.]

People haven't seen Bausphomette as much this year as they expected. They seem to think there are more curses around because Bausphomette isn't there to fight them. I thought perhaps they were busy with Hali. I suppose I could try to find them, but I've never done any magic when I had corruption. I've never had so much corruption before. I don't know what would happen––

[the last thing she wants is to hurt lady somehow. more quietly:]

The only people we can't treat for corruption are the Zealots. I don't want to be like them. I don't want to be anybody else.

[she pauses, half-expecting this to be the solution––if it were bausphomette's doing, it likely would be. nothing eases. another sob escapes her.]

It's just the same as Littlefinger. Everywhere I go, someone wants to make me into a monster.

[something clicks in the back of her mind. she stills, her back very straight.]

I did see some ghosts, I think. They were very rude. Their faces were cut up each cheek like a smile.

Edited 2023-05-23 06:18 (UTC)

[Ezra squeezes her hands, gently, storing away all this information.

Ghosts with distinctive markings. We can work with that.

[After a beat of more internal debate.]

Do you want me to try to send you some calm?

Edited (html fail) 2023-05-24 03:02 (UTC)

[sansa's mouth tugs briefly to one side at the squeeze––a familiar almost-smile––but she's soon frowning down at their hands.]

They called me a monster. I thought it was because of Lady. I suppose it could be because I'm a Sleeper. People hate things they think are dangerous. [this last part is practically a sneer, but then her voice becomes thoughtful again.] Do you think it was the ghosts? I can't imagine why they'd want to make me more dangerous by giving me corruption––unless they wanted me to join them.

[she glances back up at ezra, sap-glazed eyes sharp.]

It wasn't just the cuts on their cheeks. They were truly smiling. It's why I thought they must be dead––the cuts hadn't healed enough for them to do that. And of course Lady couldn't get a scent. But I don't think they were angry that I was a monster. I think they were glad of it.

[this must mean something, if she understands what the ghosts want she can figure out a way to placate them or trick them...]

Or maybe this is one of those things where it's boils down to some beings enjoy cruelty and tormenting people.

We can do the rounds of asking the locals and hitting up the Archives, see if these specific ghosts are a known thing.

[a look of terror briefly crosses sansa's face at the idea of dripping weirwood sap and leaves all over the archives, potentially knocking branches into things.]

I can't go to a library like this!

["I'll go with him," says sansa's omen, launching himself in the air to settle on ezra's shoulder.

sansa raises her eyebrows––winter will sometimes rest on on other, larger, omens, but not usually other sleepers. he brushes his beak against ezra's cheek in an approximation of a kiss.

"Lady will stay with you," he adds.

Lady whimpers and curls around sansa, scooting her head into sansa's lap. part of sansa wants ezra to stay, though she knows it would only make her more comfortable in the short term and wouldn't solve anything. still, a part of her mind wonders how best to convince him not to leave, and she grasps desperately around for something else to wonder at instead.]

Whatever they are, they're very dangerous. I suppose they could be those ghosts of people who died as Beasts, and they want us to believe we're no different to them. Perhaps they want revenge on those who killed them––perhaps it was a Sleeper, or they can't tell the difference between the living well enough to go after Hunters, or people who have killed Beasts. Although I did kill the Bugge, even though it was all right again afterwards, so perhaps they can. I wish they'd go after the Hunters at the Gate, so they'd kill each other, but I doubt we'll get so lucky. Bad things never seem to happen to the people who deserve it most––at least not by accident.

[she looks back up at ezra.]

Anyway, if they get you, you should have enough time to figure it out before the corruption starts. It was a few days ago that I saw the first ghost. They said "You know you're a monster." You should tell people that, when you ask after them.

Edited 2023-05-28 21:04 (UTC)

[Ezra startles briefly, too, when Winter alight on his shoulder, but his expression quickly shifts to touched and pleased.

Seemingly out of nowhere comes a white Loth cat. Ezra's omen often not obviously nearby, and rarely speaks. One might conclude that Ezra's bond with his Omen isn't strong, because of that, but reality is more complicated than that. More accurately, Sahar represents the postitive aspects of the life Ezra left behind, the one of wandering his homeworld, less tied down by plans and responsiblities. ]

Sahar, stay with her, please. [The cat chirps and trots closer to Sansa and Lady, then cocks her head as if to ask 'where do you want me'?"

Ezra lingers a moment longer, pensive-]

I don't like to think of people as - as monsters. Or, I guess, to condemn them as such. If there's anything this place teaches, it's that anyone can be a monster, in the right circumstances. Not that I didn't know that, already.

And if that's true...then deserving is a little bit of a trap, too, I think.

[sansa blinks, her eyelids heavy but fortunately not very sticky; lady rearranges herself to allow sahal to curl up with her.]

Of course it's a trap; it only makes people want to fight each other and become corrupted. Still, it would be useful if these curses could stop anyone from hurting people and making trouble, instead of ruining things for people who weren't hurting anyone and only want to help. The true monsters are the people who choose to be cruel, over and over, and don't ever change because they like to do it. I don't know if monster is the right word––I think they say 'abuser' in some of the videos.

[it is probably not the time to enable her tangents. she holds out a hand for sahar to sniff and then stops herself, looking down at sahar apologetically.]

Oh, I'm sorry, I know you aren't a true cat; I never know how to introduce myself to omens, but I'm very glad to meet you.

[Ezra muses-]Abuser is a better one, I think. It more...behavior, less state of being.

[Sahar had been shift to lean up into that hand actually.

Ezra watches, biting his lip, curious how this plays out. As far as he knows the only person he's close to that Sahar has intentionally spend much time with is Obi-wan, and he still doesn't think that they talk.

Sahar stares up at Sansa for a moment, and gives a slow blink before settling back on her haunches, and letting out a quiet huff before speaking.]

Likewise, my lady.

...think of me as a very intelligent cat.

[sansa smiles at sahar and unthinkingly blinks back (she has been warging her batcat lately to kill bloodbugs without the risk of visenya eating corrupted blood).]

I'm sure I wouldn't expect Ezra's omen to be anything but clever––and I should like it very much if you might call me Sansa.

[her smile fades as she drags her gaze back to ezra.]

Ezra, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I must ask you to leave, before I start trying to make you stay. I can already hear the corruption working out how best to do it. I don't want people to see me like this; I don't want them to know what I'm capable of. They killed Lady because Nymeria bit Joffrey––but if you have any trouble at all, you must ask Lazarus to help you. Winter can find him. I won't let anything get out of hand.

[she fishes a hairpin with a shimmering purpley crystal out of her sleeve...]

Edited 2023-06-09 14:51 (UTC)

[Ezra would reluctantly but calmly leave to get started on research, figuring that's the best thing he can do to help, but when he glances at the pin, there's a rush of realization that it's dangerous.

As information through the Force often works, he's not really sure why, just that it is. Such warnings have saved him countless times, before he even knew had words for it beyond 'hunches' - knowing he should dodge someone, that he shouldn't eat certain scraps of food, shouldn't drink certain water.]

...Sansa, what are you doing?

[sansa's brow furrows gently.]

I'm not doing anything.

[she glances down at the pin in her hand and sighs.]

It's poison from my world, but I promise I won't take it unless I feel myself starting to become a Beast, and I'll go in the hot pool so I come back straightaway. I can't lose control of myself, Ezra, not like that––if I become a Beast and hurt people, it would ruin everything. I could never take it back. People would be afraid of me, a little, always in the back of their minds, and I'd rather lose this body than lose everything I've built.

[she smiles a little, crookedly.]

And I'd hate it if one of the Hunters from the Gate were to kill me––if anyone were to do it, I'd rather it be someone I can stand to be around.

[she thinks of her father leaving the inn, determined to make lady's death a quick one, and blinks back tears.]

I think I have some time left. It has been some few hours, and I can still tell the corruption from my own thoughts. I don't think I'm much worse than Tory was, or Lord Diluc. I think Lady will know when I'm truly in danger.

[lady gives a sorrowful whine of assent.]

my smile is like I won a contest

then I hate my reflection for years and years | ezra | wellness center | first week of may

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