TEST DRIVE MEME #15

[abraxasmods]

Test Drive Meme

Welcome to the Test Drive Meme for Abraxas! This meme is run a little bit differently than most in that you'll be asked to choose one of the three different arrival scenarios below for your character to take. If you have any questions about this mechanic or anything else related to the TDM, please take a look at the questions below or ask one of your own under the Questions header below. For general game questions please still use the FAQ.

Below are some links to information you may find useful. Our Setting pages have information about the world itself as well as current events for each nation, while our Game History page outlines the game's story so far.

Setting | Game History | NPCs | Arcana
You can also find answers to questions asked on previous TDMs in their respective questions threads.

The TDM is forward-dated to when the summonings occur in-game (when applications are accepted), at the start of December.

Summoning

You awaken suspended in the abyss, silent darkness stretching out in all directions. If you try to yell, you'll find that the sound doesn't carry. If you try to move, you'll find it's impossible to tell whether or not you're actually getting anywhere. If you reach for an item you were carrying last time you remember being awake, your hand will only touch bare skin.

You're naked and floating helplessly through the void, and what little air you have in your lungs is running out.

There's a pinprick of light that almost looks like a faraway star but as it grows it becomes clear that it's actually quite close. It's hard to make out any individual objects, as if you're looking from beneath rippling water.

A hand plunges through and you realize water is just what it is. Whether you take hold of the hand or not it will grab you and yank you up through the surface, lifting you out until you're sprawled on solid ground - still unclothed.

Arrival

You'll find yourself summoned to one of the following three major nations: the extravagant and magical Kingdom of Thorne, the bustling and advanced Free Cities, or the tightknit and faith-driven rural community of the Solvunn Commune.

If you had any powers, they feel unusually weak. Attempts to use magic or enhanced strength or powers of any sort fizzle out without any effect, but they don't feel completely gone, either. After a week or so, your abilities will return.

When you gather your bearings at last, you look up into a series of unfamiliar faces...and equally unfamiliar surroundings.

Kingdom of Thorne | The Free Cities | Solvunn Commune

Welcome to Thorne

Set into an indent on a marble slab behind the fountain is a card bearing the image of one of the Arcana. An apprentice mage - the one whose hand lifted you out of the fountain - brushes the water off on their robes and runs back to join a group of three others, who all stare intently at another mage with highly decorated robes and a large, heavy book. The man peers up at you for a moment and starts flipping through the book.

"One moment," he says, not bothering to look up from the tome. He looks tired. "I am Ambrose Rhett, the High Mage of the Kingdom of Thorne. We’ll explain everything in a moment, but for now, please calm down. You’re completely fine."

Regardless of your response, he keeps flipping through the pages, until he stops on one specific passage, stares at it for a moment, and then nods, satisfied. "Excellent." He motions for one of the young apprentice mages over. "Settle our guest in, please. I don't have all day."

The apprentice hurries forward with a fine silk tunic, pants, and some basic sandals. With a wave of their hand, the clothes reshape to fit you perfectly. Once you're dressed, the apprentice leads you into the hallways of Castle Thorne, prattling on about the kingdom, names of royals and nobles, and, of course, the reason why you're here: the world itself is in great peril, and tales of your exploits have reached far and wide across universes. If asked about these exploits, the apprentice will simply smile and shrug. The High Mage was happy to see you and that's good enough.

◎ Surroundings

Castle Thorne is where not only royals and members of the court reside, but includes the surrounding city itself. Now in winter, the weather is frosty. In the distance, you can see tall white mountain peaks and winter flowers are dusted in snow around the gardens. The castle is enchanted to be at a comfortable temperature.

As you walk or look around, you take in some of what's going on around you:

• The North Wing, devoted to housing the Summoned, is tightly guarded against outsiders. As one of the Summoned, you're free to come and go. The guards aren't keeping anyone prisoner. They're there to protect you, and they take their jobs seriously.


• Apprentices, kitchen staff, guards - everyone seems to be bustling and busy. Some curiosity is in the air when locals discuss the recent negotiations with the Nether, the confirmation of dragons, and the Maritime Fair in Borrel, newly established last month. The ceremony in November included the promotion of the Queen's uncle, Admiral Rudolph Sidwell.


• Although the Dimming is a few weeks away, the Castle's head chef has started to serve winter-themed pastries and warm-spiced teas in the dining hall.

◎ Exploring

Despite the troubles that plague the land, Castle Thorne and its surrounding city have much for you to indulge in.

Fireside Logs
In preparation for the colder weather, and to appease the working class, enchanted logs are to be delivered around Nott. These logs are bespelled to last several weeks longer than a typical log. Help stack the logs onto horse-drawn wagons or make the deliveries yourself. Nott can be a little rough with pickpockets and thieves, and many aren't fond of the monarchy, so it's best to travel with a friend. While you're there, why not have a drink at the taverns or visit the fish market? Just be sure to return by dark or else a guard may be sent to fetch you home. Thorne wouldn't want you to be in any danger!

Magic Lessons
Regular magic lessons are held by apprentice mages as part of their training, usually involving learning to cast a small spell. Join if you wish! The spell they will be teaching is conjuring a modest warming spell that can chase away the chill for about an hour or so. The spell relies on Academic Magic which involves a few words said correctly. You'll likely need a few lessons to grasp it unless you're well-versed in magic already. The class of fresh-faced students means there's a constant bright explosion of light coming from the practice room as the spells fail. It isn't dangerous, but it can be annoying.

Seaside Scenery
You're encouraged to explore Thorne's proud naval history in Borrel at its Maritime Fair, which had its first opening last month. Along with its many attractions and ships, you can join a paint and cider session where you can follow a guided instructor to paint the Borrel seascape. To finish your masterpiece, you can decorate the frame with Borrel's famous sea glass. The paints and brushes are enchanted to help you along, but it requires a little concentration. Growing frustrated with your progress might cause some splatters or turn the colors muddy. Not to worry! You can always start again with a fresh canvas.

Nocwich
Nocwich, which is shrouded in an eternal darkness and is home to the werewolves and the vampires, opens on the first weekend of every month for a total of 3 days. Shortly after arriving, you'll be given a pendant that allows you to travel to and from the portal. In Castle Thorne, the portal is a short walk around the back of the castle. You can enter Nocwich freely and explore what's available in Oleuni Square and Luna. You won't be able to enter Ikorr nor will you be able to exit into another nation's portals. Once there, you're welcome to meet those from other nations, take in the sights, and - if you've come by some money or a generous soul - even make a few small purchases. Inns are available for a fee if you want to stay overnight. Otherwise, you'll need to return home through the portals each day.

◎ Settling In

When you're ready to rest, you're shown to the North Wing, which has been set up as living quarters for you and your fellow newcomers. There are four people to a room, but each generously-sized bed has opaque curtains that can be drawn around it. You can meet your roommates here and discuss your shared situation (those who were previously brought in may have a great deal of information to tell you).

As an important figure to the kingdom, you can't move out of the city of Castle Thorne without permission or take any extended trips. If you're feeling restless, though, daytrips to Nott or Borrel via portal are allowed, or you can visit Nocwich. Don't try to sneak out - someone will bring you back. Besides, Castle Thorne gives you everything you need: fine clothes, great food and wine, massive libraries, and all the magic and knowledge you could want. Isn't that plenty? You won't be given money as you're provided for, so if you want to do some personal spending later, you'll have to find a job in the city on your own.

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Welcome to the Free Cities

Dry warmth hits you at once as you're set on a hard floor of dull ruddy stone. Men and women in unfamiliar uniforms of brown and red leather stand in a semi-circle around a small pool of water - the very pool you were just pulled from. The water is still now, rimmed in pale gold tiles with odd symbols etched into them. Across it is a raised pedestal with a card bearing an Arcana symbol.

A guard covers you with a simple robe and returns to their place in the semi-circle. Before you stands another woman, dressed in a more elaborate and decorated uniform than the others. A sword rests at her hip. She carries an air of authority as she approaches you with a nod and a warm smile. "Sorry about the circumstances. Take a minute, catch your breath. I'm Prime Minister Marlo Reiner and you're in The Free Cities. That nice lady over there will explain everything to you and get you settled."

A robed mage off to the side approaches to help you up. She brings you out of the cave through a corridor that angles upwards until you emerge in what looks like some kind of storage facility. You'll learn you're in the Cadens Desert Outpost 003, a military base on the outskirts of the major city of Cadens. You're told the world is in delicate and dangerous times, and you're needed to help. You're important and they're very grateful you're here.

◎ Surroundings

While you're currently at the outpost just outside of the city proper, Cadens on the whole is a large bustling city. The climate is hot and dry, though not as hot as it was in summer. At night, temperatures drop dramatically. Look to the west and you'll see a long stretch of desert wasteland. This is the infamous Badlands. The soldiers don't recommend going out there unprepared - you're likely to face a slow death to the elements or be eaten. Reaching Cadens is possible by wagon, a trip of about 2 hours each way. You're asked to return by sundown for your own safety... but no one will chase after you if you don't.

You'll be given a military style uniform with your Arcana stitched on it where a formal rank would normally be. As you walk or look around, you take in some of what's going on around you:

• In the Cadens barracks, soldiers exchange stories about invisible hounds and mutant beasts that attacked - though some tales are exaggerated. City guards are present around an inn and tavern at the heart of Cadens - The Sarstina - where the Summoned like you are often found. They're here for your protection, not to prevent you from moving freely.


• A buzz is in the air when locals discuss the recent negotiations with the Nether, the confirmation of dragons, and the public execution of Cauldor Wain, accused of orchestrating the attacks in Nocwich two years ago. If you step outside the gates of Cadens, you'll see a decomposing corpse hanging there as a warning.


• Although the Festival of Enlightenment is a few weeks away, shops and markets have started to sell mechanical toys, clothes, and light-up jewelry in preparation for all the coming celebrations and parties.

◎ Exploring

Despite the troubles that plague the land, the barracks and Cadens have much for you to indulge in.

Training Grounds
Non-lethal training weapons and obstacle courses are set up for anyone to use. The soldiers will be watching, and if you catch their attention they might approach you and encourage you to enlist. You're free to invite other new arrivals to spar, but be sure to keep things friendly and avoid trouble. Discipline is key in the barracks. If you're especially competitive, the soldiers will sometimes hold impromptu obstacle races with informal wagers made. They'll be happy to race against even the most unlikely of opponents, and you'll be judged more on your spirit rather than your skill. If you really impress them, they'll even buy you a drink.

Save An Orphan
Eager to take advantage of the upcoming holiday cheer, orphans will corner passersby to try and sell small handmade trinkets, jewelry, and a cup of hot cocoa or warm pastries. They'll be grateful if you buy a little something! Wilier orphans might try to distract you and quickly tie a bracelet around your wrist, then demand compensation for your "purchase." But hey, it's hard to be too upset with hungry children, right? If you don't have any food or money on you, maybe you can find an older Summoned to help you out.

Loose Balls
In the holiday bustle, one of the delivery wagons has overturned, scattering colorful round ornaments all over the street. Distraught merchant Jilliane Tuttle is desperate to gather up her wares and will beg anyone she sees for help. Why not lend the poor lady a hand? Be careful, though! The orbs are designed to light up, and the damage might cause some of them to give a light shock when picked up. Try to bring as many of the ornaments back to Jilliane as you can. She'll reward you with a few silver coins for your help.

Nocwich
Nocwich, which is shrouded in an eternal darkness and is home to the werewolves and the vampires, opens on the first weekend of every month for a total of 3 days. Shortly after arriving, you'll be given a pendant that allows you to travel to and from the portal. In Cadens, the portal is a short walk away from the center of the city. You can enter Nocwich freely and explore what's available in Oleuni Square and Luna. You won't be able to enter Ikorr nor will you be able to exit into another nation's portals. Once there, you're welcome to meet those from other nations, take in the sights, and - if you've come by some money or a generous soul - even make a few small purchases. Inns are available for a fee if you want to stay overnight. Otherwise, you'll need to return home through the portals each day.

◎ Settling In

When you're ready to turn in, the barracks are waiting for you. They have a communal bathing room at the end of the hall, with curtains that can be pulled around the individual raised round tubs for privacy. Each barracks room is rather sparse. Six simple beds set against the wall, three on each side of the room, each with a trunk at the foot of it. You can greet your roommates here, most of whom will be new arrivals, as well.

If you plan on making use of your assigned quarters, you'll have your basic needs met: uniforms, a roof, bland food from the mess hall, and access to the training grounds. You won't be paid unless you formally enlist with the army. The longer you take advantage of the barracks, the greater the pressure to enlist. Some soldiers will start to see you as a freeloader if you refuse to join them yet continue to use their resources. If you're set on not enlisting, you'll eventually have to strike out on your own. The government won't provide for you and handouts are rare. You'll have to work to earn every copper and loaf of bread. Whether that's honest work is up to you, but you will want to start making money. Nearly everything in the Free Cities has a price - including the portal to Aquila. Luckily, the portal to Libertas is free if you want to stretch your legs.

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Welcome to Solvunn

You're in a grassy clearing in the midst of a circle of large stone slabs stacked to look like doorways. In the middle is the same glimmering pool you were just pulled from. An elderly mage stands before an ornate altar. He holds an old leather-bound book in one hand and in the other is a card bearing an arcana symbol. "I detect no ill will from the gods," he says. "It seems we've been blessed with success."

Those that had gathered all breathe a sigh of relief and now seem pleased. One offers you some clothes of leather and knitted wool that seem to fit you perfectly. A rough-looking man steps forward once you're dressed and motions with his head outside of the stone circle. His speech is informal, his consonants harsh.

"Hold your horses, I can see all those questions coming about! Rowan March, at your service. I'm one of the council members of Solvunn. There's a lot to discuss, but it's best talked about over a hot meal." He leads you to a horse-drawn carriage and helps you up into the back. He talks the entire ride to the center of the Primary Settlement. You're told that the world hangs upon the brink of disaster and that there are those in this world that are happy to see it fall to ruin with their meddling.

You're important. The gods have graced them with your presence. They're delighted you're here.

◎ Surroundings

The Primary Settlement is full of greenery, blessed with the fresh ocean breeze. Winds are chilly and the temperatures are cold. Sleet and hail grow more frequent. The scent of wildflowers fills the air. The shops, farms, and homes around you are all modest and unassuming. You get the sense that the people here prefer to blend in with their neighbors than stand out.

As you walk or look around, you'll be greeted warmly, even eagerly...though there's an edge of awestruck nervousness to some. Though the settlement is often quiet and calm, there's still plenty to take in:

• Shops and stalls in Solvunn are booming with chestnuts, baked apples, candied orange peels, and other wintery treats. Vendors are eager to barter goods and are in the habit of including extra gifts with any purchase or trades made. If you are looking for a good deal, now is the time!


• The execution of former Council member Josselyn Creed is no longer a topic. Instead, a sense of awe is in the air when locals discuss the recent negotiations with the Nether, the confirmation of a long-lost dragon shrine, and the formally secured seat of Council member Isar Hart, the first Tertiary representative who does not come from the Tertiary Settlement.


• Although the Winter Solstice is a few weeks away, friendly neighbors have started to deliver hot cider and warm knitted socks or scarves to everyone around the commune.

◎ Exploring

Despite the troubles that plague the commune, the commune and its settlements have much for you to indulge in.

Helping Hands
Due to the cold winds, Solvunn fine goat racing tradition is put on hold so the goats can be kept warm inside their pens. Skilled weavers have made blankets for the goats, which you can deliver to any home that has a goat or two. It sounds easy enough except while you're there, you might be roped into helping with a household chore or running an errand, from sweeping the floors, bringing a bit of tea to the family across the road (you're headed that direction, anyway, aren't you?), or picking something up from the market (it'll be quick, dear!). Before you know it, you find yourself juggling several tasks. Obviously, the solution is to pass the work onto someone else - maybe another Summoned you spot?

Wailing Wilma
Bored of the holiday cheer, youths in the Primary Settlement have started to sneak off to find Wailing Wilma. According to the tale, Wilma's sister drowned her in the icy waters as a sacrifice. When summoned, Wilma's ghostly face appears just beneath the ice, mouth open in an eternal wail. The "summoning" requires taking an elaborate path through the forest to reach the lake - though the instructions frequently change. Of course, between stepping onto the ice and wandering through the woods at night, the children are asking for trouble. Maybe you hear some screaming as the youths frighten themselves or a frantic mother asks you to find her son before dark. You should take a friend if you plan to investigate - the woods can be dangerous after sundown.

Red Herring
Each winter, cured fish are prepared in glass jars decorated with holly and delivered as-ordered to residents in the commune, a task organized by Fin McGill, whose parents evidently believed he would follow in their fishing footsteps. These small fish take on a rusty hue when salted and smoked. Unfortunately, his careless son (Finnie Jr.) has once again mixed up the batches of fish this year: the jars of herring have been mislabeled as mackerel and vice versa. A frantic Fin is asking anyone available to help correct the mistake before the wagon comes to collect his goods. You can swap the labels and move the jars to the right crates to make sure everything reaches its proper destination.

Nocwich
Nocwich, which is shrouded in an eternal darkness and is home to the werewolves and the vampires, opens on the first weekend of every month for a total of 3 days. Shortly after arriving, you'll be given a pendant that allows you to travel to and from the portal. In Solvunn, the portal is a short walk away. You can enter Nocwich freely and explore what's available in Oleuni Square and Luna. You won't be able to enter Ikorr nor will you be able to exit into another nation's portals. Once there, you're welcome to meet those from other nations, take in the sights, and - if you've come by some money or a generous soul - even make a few small purchases. Inns are available for a fee if you want to stay overnight. Otherwise, you'll need to return home through the portals each day.

◎ Settling In

When you're ready for your bed, you're brought to the center of town and escorted to an apartment above one of the establishments in town. The living conditions are temporary if you'd like them to be: the local families would also be happy to host you in their home. In return, you'll be expected to contribute to their household, taking upon daily chores and repairs. While money has its uses, many establishments and craftsmen are happy to barter with your time or skill for their goods. You'll find your willingness to trade and your friendliness with the natives more valuable than gold.

Goat-drawn wagons can help you get to the other settlements, but you're encouraged to remain in the Primary Settlement. If you insist, though, no one will stop you from leaving. Just be sure you have an invitation to the Secondary Settlement. There are tales of uninvited travelers to the Secondary Settlement disappearing without a trace. The gods are as hungry as they are protective.

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Questions and Answers

If after reading these you're still unsure about anything, or your question wasn't covered, please feel free to hit up our Questions thread below!

How many slots are open?

Please check the Taken page for how many player, franchise, and canon slots are available. Activity check will be processed before applications open, so the count may change between now and then. Existing players can apply for a second character without restriction.

How do I choose a scenario for my character?

Pick whichever situation appeals to you most. Which nation your character is drawn into has nothing to do with their personal morality, beliefs, or how highly they regard themselves and their own accomplishments. Anyone can be put into any one of the situations.

What happens if my character refuses to comply with the NPCs?

They will be forgiven for their moment of panic or anger if they have one, and leaders will try to calm them and persuade them further. If they put up too much of a fight and/or start actively attacking anyone, they will be warned once that everyone is willing to put them back in the well where they came from (see below), and if they continue to fight they will make good on that promise.

My character intends on causing a lot of trouble (destroying parts of the cities, murdering the NPCs, etc.), what would happen to them?

Characters who make too much trouble for the mages and other NPCs would be thrown back in the well (which will mean drowning in the void, not returning home). Brawling with other PCs and causing minor damage is fine and will be greeted with a cranky attitude and intervention from various NPC guards, and there will be plenty of opportunity for destruction and murder later, but for now the Abraxans have no desire to keep huge liabilities around.

Is the power loss for characters permanent?

No, but it does take a week or so for their powers to be back in full, and certain powers (determined on a case-by-case basis) may require nerfs. If your character has world-breaking powers, please discuss with the mods what modifications may be necessary.

Can my character leave the bounds of the nation?

In Thorne, characters can leave the castle but not the city. In the Free Cities, they can take a trip from the outpost to the nearest main city, Cadens. In Solvunn, they can explore the entirety of the Primary Settlement.

Can my character eventually change nations or kingdoms?

Yes, but tensions between the major nations are at an all-time high. Doing so is possible, but will require some plotting and discussion with the mods once you're in-game!

How much will my choice of scenario affect my character's plot later on?

This choice will determine where your character initially lives as well as the bias of the information they receive from NPCs (although other PCs can and most likely will give it to them a bit more straight). It will also affect your character's day-to-day life and development. Characters who seek technological advancements or combat will find more of it in the Free Cities while those keen on court politics and learning magic will have the most access to it in Thorne. Anyone who wishes to uncover the secrets of the Old Gods and forest mysteries will best do so in Solvunn.

This is not to say characters can't do these things from another setting choice - with effort and the help of friends, anything is possible! Don't get too anxious about your choice. This is just one of many, and every character in each scenario can work their way towards many individual goals and outcomes. Additionally, once in-game the Horizon will provide characters with a way to easily find cross-faction CR.

Are TDM threads mandatory for my application?

No, you may use other samples, but we encourage you to post to the TDM and get a feel for this game and its mechanics before you join. If you do not have a TDM thread you will still need to choose one of the three scenarios on your application.

What if I haven't settled on a sign yet?

Your Arcana sign won't have an immediate impact on your character beyond them seeing it on themselves or being told what it is by the locals. You're welcome to disregard those aspects in your prompts or try out different signs.

Can my character go to the Horizon?

First time visitors to the Horizon must be taken there by other characters, through either shared meditation or a physical journey to the Singularity, and all first-timers experience memory loss. For the purposes of the TDM, we suggest against using the Horizon.

If you're interested in threading with characters outside your borders on the TDM, you can utilize the Nocwich prompt which will allow all characters to meet in person regardless of arrival scenario.

What about making use of the network?

Much like Horizon they would need to be introduced to it by another PC, as no NPCs would be aware of the network or be able to access it. Because of this, we would advise against using this mechanic for TDM top-levels.

Can I try out more than one arrival scenario on the same TDM?

Yes, although only threads taking place in the arrival scenario you formally choose upon applying can count as canon. However, you're welcome to try out as many as you like on the TDM.

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Comments

[dogmeats]

A loan, she says, and he snorts. No need for all that, nor to think of it as anything especially significant. It's just a bloody flower, for a woman who's been ripped from her home. It's a trifle, and nothing more.

"Shut up about the coin, girl. You still owe no debts to the South. Come on."

He nods his head westward, and sets off to lead them out of the shop. Yes, he knows of a place. Yes, he'll buy her some food and some mead if she'll have it. No, he'll not be keeping a fucking ledger of it.

The place he takes her isn't far, and perhaps not fit for a highborn lady, but nowhere in Nocwich truly is. It isn't bad, though. The folks who run it are a little rough and a lot hirsute, given that it's overrun by fucking werewolves — maybe that'll feel a little homey to her, though, all things considered.

The pedestrians in the walkways veer away from him and give them a wide berth, but there's something different about it here. It's thoughtless, absent, polite — nobody here seems to fear him, and very few seem all that put off by his scars. It is, if anything, only his size that has them subconsciously moving, probably so they don't get bowled over more than anything. People in both Nocwich and in Solvunn accept the Hound far more than damn near anyone in Westeros ever did. Even the tavern keeper seems strangely taken with him, beaming pleasantly and offering him a wave as they step through the door — to which he does little more than nod mildly in return.

"The usual, San?" Asks the rakish bastard, dropping a carafe off at their table.

"How many fucking times do I have to tell you not to call me that?" He snaps.

"Oh, at least once more, I think. And what'll the pretty lady have tonight?"

"Bring her the Torcainse, and keep your hands to yourself if you want them to stay attached," he warns with a growl, though the young man seems completely unfazed by his attitude.

"As you wish, you mean old bear," comes his chipper, adoring retort — and then he skirts off again, back toward the kitchens to set about their order.

Sandor reaches for the carafe, muttering under his breath, "I hate that fucking twat."

[theladyofwinterfell]

Sansa arches her brow, utterly amused. "San? Has someone given you a lover's name, Sandor Clegane? Perish the thought. I presume given your reaction you have not actually consented to it."

When would he? Sandor Clegane isn't one to even allow his own proper name as a form of address, much less a nickname, and he seems so put out by it that she finds it amusing. Sansa drums her fingers on the table and thinks about the fact that he's still wildly possessive of her and her person. As a girl, she'd thought it meant he wanted her as a man wants a woman but now she thinks it is simply because he's protective of her and doesn't want anyone bothering her. A strange sworn shield but a sworn shield all the same, she thinks.

"I could also be San. What if he called me that? Would he still be a terrible person if he used the name for me instead of you? It isn't anything I've been called before but it is possible."

[dogmeats]

And suddenly there's Sansa fucking Stark, teasing him. Who'd have ever banked on that happening? Certainly not him, certainly not considering the last time he saw her, she was a frightened girl clutching a doll. He'd looked a mess from the battle, bloody and drunk, and he'd had to bark at her to get her eyes up to his.

Now, she arches her brow at him. Now, her words are amused and playful. What the fuck's going on here? He levels her with a glare, though she'll know good and well it isn't the full heat he's capable of. Just a mild, annoyed sort of burn, while the better part of his brain is busy trying to wrap itself around this exchange.

"He'd be a terrible person regardless. Don't you go encouraging him, that's the last fucking thing I need." But he's got bigger, more important questions now than whatever that nance at the bar inspires. "Since when have you got the cheek to wag your tongue at me anyway, Little Bird? Last I recall, you could hardly stand to look at me."

[theladyofwinterfell]

"I'm not so little a bird any longer, Sandor," Sansa says. "A lot has happened, I think, since you last saw me. What is the last thing you remember from home?"

It is strange but it seems as if their history doesn't match up and Sansa is trying to see where he is in comparison to her. Had he come to this place before her and then come back to Westeros? He had been missing for a while and she'd not seen him the entire time she was in the Eyrie or when Ramsay had her. He'd only come North again to fight against the Night King. Does he not know?

"I am Queen in the North now. I am far from a little bird who is frightened of everything."

Only her dreams, when they come, but even those are less these days.

[dogmeats]

Has she ever called him Sandor before? Just the first name, just like that, so familiar? He doesn't think so. Thinks he'd remember that, thinks it would take her feeling especially brave — or it would have, once.

What is the last thing you remember from home?

He stares at her, eyes narrowing, thoughtful. Keenly assessing what's happening here, the implication, what it means.

I am the Queen in the North now.

At length, slowly, he ventures, "They say... time moves differently, here. When they pulled you through, or your brother... might not be the same as when they pulled me through."

A beat, and then he nods in her direction, a gesture with the tip of his chin.

"You're older. Older than the last time I saw you, by more than just a few seasons."

[theladyofwinterfell]

"I'm twenty," Sansa confirms. If it has been more than a few seasons since he's seen her, it means that time truly does work differently. It explains why Jon had been here for so much longer than she'd last seen him, as well, and she thinks it must be the strange magic of this place. Magic is something she'll always be a bit uneasy about considering how she's seen it used but it is a way of life here.

"I last saw you on the eve of a great battle. You hadn't seen me since I was a young girl - not since the Blackwater. I've been wed and widowed since you saw me last."

And a great host of other things, too, but she doesn't think those are the sorts of things she should share with Sandor Clegane in the open. Those are the things she keeps deep inside her and doesn't reveal to those who don't already know them if she can help it; sadly everyone knows about Ramsay Bolton.

[dogmeats]

The eve of a great battle — so he survives it, then. Back home, at the foot of those rocks and cliffs, after being beaten nearly to death by that giant bitch. He lives to drag his battered body on to another fight, by the sound of it. He's not so sure how he feels about that yet, given how peaceful the thought of finally just fucking dying had seemed in the moment.

But he lives, meets her again, and that's something. There's worse fates for a man.

His lips turn down into an unhappy scowl at the news of how her future seems to pan out.

"Wed and widowed— to who? The imp?" The news he got while on the road with her sister was sparing, few and far between, but he'd heard rumblings about some such wedding. It sparked amusement in far too many chatty Lannister men. It's not so surprising, the thought that Joffrey might grant her that final insult, but that she's widowed from him already is surprising.

Or, then again, perhaps not. He'd been there when the dwarf slapped his nephew clear across the face. Amusing as the memory is in hindsight, he'd probably halved and halved again his lifespan.

[theladyofwinterfell]

"Oh, right. Wed to Tyrion but he's still alive," she explains. "I was wed again later. To Ramsay Bolton."

And widowed quite efficiently by her own hand. He was the first man she'd killed and the only one she'd done herself even if his hounds had been her weapon. Snuffing him out had done much to cauterize the wound of him within her even if it will always be there and always be a knot of scarring that will never be smooth again.

"Widowed from him and now quite alone and a Stark once more. I don't intend to carry another man's name ever again. Only my own. What of you? What happened after the Blackwater?"

And why did he leave her when she needed him?

[dogmeats]

Ramsay Bolton.

It takes him a minute to piece it together. He knows the bastard — literally, the bastard — as Ramsay Snow. Knows of Roose Bolton, and of his historically unsavory offspring. They must've naturalized him at some point after Sandor ran from the Blackwater. Must've lifted him up high enough to earn the status of marrying a Stark, and he can't imagine how in the fuck that happened.

Something about all that stinks like day-old fish, there's something wrong and rotten about it. He can't put his finger on it, but he doesn't like it.

Good, he thinks, that she's widowed. Good that she's a Stark again. Good that she's in her family home, and Queen in the Fucking North. All that's going to be something for him to think on for some time yet.

He brings his goblet of mead to his lips, and stalls the question by downing nearly half of it in one go. Exhales as he sets it back down, and busies his hands with filling both their cups before he answers.

"I found your sister. Watched over her. Took her North, or tried to. By the time we found your mother and your brother, their blood was flowing thicker than the wedding wine. So I tried taking her to the Vale instead, only we got there days after your aunt died. Last thing I remember is some giant bloody bitch showing up trying to get her fucking paws on your sister, and getting dueled off a cliff. Thought I'd died there. Thought that was the end of it, for me. Until those old fuckers pulled me through the portal here. That was two months ago."

[theladyofwinterfell]

"Brienne. That was so, so long ago. My sister fled to Braavos," Sansa says. "And trained with the Faceless Men. She's a proper assassin now and more than capable of taking care of herself."

Sansa drinks her mead and stays quiet for a moment while she thinks about what she wants to say. Sandor Clegane isn't a man to take a compliment or a thank you. Still, she feels something is warranted knowing that he took care of her sister on the road where she could have been ransomed, forcibly married, or something even worse.

"Thank you for protecting her," Sansa says finally. "You didn't have to do that and you did."

[dogmeats]

Braavos? His expression seems to read, skeptical. The fuck's in Braavos?

However he'd expected that sentence to end, training with the Faceless Men was not it. She did favor her water dancing, he remembers that. Had been enamored with 'the greatest swordsman who ever lived', he supposes he shouldn't be so surprised she went off to chase after his memory there. Fucking Hells, that girl...

He shakes his head slowly. Jon Snow will be happy to hear she's still alive, assuming he and Sansa haven't already discussed her. Surely they have. It'd been one of the first things he'd brought up when he found Sandor all those weeks ago.

"Don't thank me," he rumbles, irritation lurking in the folds and ruffles of his voice. Annoyance, disappointment — in himself. He reaches for his goblet again, gripping it tightly, scowling into it. "I didn't protect her, did I? I fell to a woman. I failed her. And you. Save your thanks for somebody that's earned it."

Which is, of course, perfect timing for the tavern worker to come merrily bounding back, carrying a plate in either hand. He sets in front of Sansa what is not, technically, roast pork — but may as well be, close enough. Some horned, ridiculous equivalent that lurks in the magical hunting grounds of this fucking batshit world they're on now. In any case, it's meat, and vegetables, and approximately a third of the portion size of what he sets down in front of Sandor, because of course it is.

"Need anything else, my loves?" He asks flamboyantly, earning a dead stare from Sandor and a very, very flat retort.

"I need you to learn how to shut the fuck up for five minutes, can you do that?"

"Oh, San, honey, not for all the coin or pleasure in Abraxas. Scarier men than you have tried. But you two enjoy your supper!" He bounds off again, and Sandor sighs with such extreme fatigue, it's nearly tangible.

[theladyofwinterfell]

"San, honey? How does this man still have his head?"

Sansa cannot help but laugh but she does have the decency to try and hide it in her hands because she doesn't want Sandor to think she's laughing at him, more that she is laughing at the ridiculous situation where someone is so unafraid of him that they'd nickname him something so intimate and soft as San and Honey. She tries her meat and it's good but she's always had a light appetite, something that had served her well during the wars she's endured.

"I suppose you wouldn't want him to call me that, would you? I assure you, no one does. I am merely Sansa to everyone in existence these days. No sweetling, no Little Bird, not anything at all. However, I may have to lift that name from our friend to call you. I'm certain you'll adore it."

[dogmeats]

He scowls so hard, it's a wonder the server doesn't spontaneously combust. How does he still have his head? Simple — because they won't let him walk through the bloody Nocwich portal with his sword. He does also have some semblance of a peaceful life here, with no real interest in being hunted or jailed, or racking up a new body count for something as stupid as a twat with too much personality.

Or mayhap it's just that he's going soft, after his near-death experience. Might be that.

"Sweetling's a cunt word," he grumbles snarkily; it reminds him of Littlefinger, or Varys. Only type of man to say that to a Lady is one who deserves a swift kick to the balls, if you ask him. "And if you try calling me that, you'll be taking a long fucking walk back to Thorne on an empty stomach. Starting to miss the days when you were too scared to talk to me."

He's not.

[theladyofwinterfell]

"Suit yourself, Sandor," Sansa says, smiling into her cup of mead. She knows that she shouldn't push it too far but she likes that there is another person here that she knows and that she can trust. No one cares about Sansa Stark here except that the two who do - Jon Snow and Sandor Clegane - care very much. They just have very, very different ways of showing it.

"No one has ever called me Sweetling that followed it up with anything kind," Sansa says. "So perhaps it is...well, I won't say what you said but you understand the sentiment, naturally."

Perhaps she's a new Sansa now but she doesn't think she can be quite so vulgar as Sandor is, even in quotation of him.

[dogmeats]

Sandor, she says, and it still sounds like bells and songs to his ears. Still feels fucking bizarre to hear, given all her Sers, and all the precarious ways she's gone about avoiding speaking of him the same as she'd avoided looking at him. It's new, this way that it seems they're on... almost even footing.

A woman grown. Part of him mourns the loss. Part of him feels an unearned pride he's no business feeling, given all the missteps he took during her time in the Red Keep. Best not to think about that too closely.

His lips quirk up; I won't say what you said.

"I'd pay good coin to hear you call someone a cunt," he muses wryly, stabbing his fork into a hunk of basically-pork. "That'll be a day to mark as a fucking holiday."

[theladyofwinterfell]

"Perhaps someday if I drink too much mead you might get it to slip from my mouth but it won't be today, Sandor," Sansa says, laughing softly. "I am a lady and a queen. Such things shouldn't be said by someone such as me."

Cunt. She's been well-familiar with the word for years, considering Sandor had been her shadow in the Red Keep when she was young. Later when she'd heard it used it had been in reference to her or parts of her but when he used it, it was never about her. It's always just a thing to say for him, something as simple as "good morning," and he calls most people by it without thinking. But never her.

"You've never called me that, you know. It was always Little Bird," Sansa says. "Would it surprise you to know men have called me that now? That word of yours I won't use?"

[dogmeats]

A lady and a queen; he snorts softly. Cersei was a lady and a queen herself, and Sandor's heard much worse shite come pouring out of her mouth than cunt. Woman could hiss like a snake with the most vile venom you've ever seen. Being a queen's got nothing to do with it. Sansa's courtesies are unique to her, and not her role. She's light and good in ways some queens and ladies could only aspire to be. It's fucking grating sometimes — or at least, that's what he'll insist, if ever asked.

He grunts noncommittally at the question; no, he is not surprised. Men will always have vile things to say about a woman in power, or a woman they want but can't have. Nothing he can do about the ones in the past, but-

"You hear anybody call you that here, tell me. I'll cut their tongue out of their mouth." It's said simply, calmly, and is followed by stuffing food in his mouth to chew.

[theladyofwinterfell]

"I'll be certain to let you know," Sansa says. "I do not think it will be an issue, however, since no one cares who Sansa Stark is other than my brother and, presumably, you."

Still, men are men, and Sansa knows that she cannot trust them. The only safe men are her brother and Sandor, no one else, and any man she meets here is someone she will hold at arms' length. Women cannot be trusted either but women cannot do the things to her that a man can do. That's a special sort of cruelty.

Sansa tries to eat more of her food. Her appetite is light, yes, but this was bought for her and she needs to be appreciative of it. A Stark isn't someone who dismisses hospitality out of hand and Sansa certainly isn't, especially since Sandor Clegane isn't the sort to hand it out.

"You would truly cut their tongue out for me?"

[dogmeats]

-since no one cares who Sansa Stark is other than my brother and, presumably, you.

He makes no notion one way or another, neither to agree nor disagree. She can sit with her own thoughts on that without his input.

"I'd cut their tongues out for the fun of it," he answers vaguely, his mouth half full, then gestures to her plate with his fork. "Shut up and eat your food. You don't need the appetite of a bird, too."

At that, he'll lapse into comfortable silence for the remainder of their shared meal. When the time comes to pay the tab, he covers it without question and without expecting a thanks — and after, will walk her politely to her quarters as if he's still her guard, as if this were Kings Landing rather than a fucking blood drinker's city in an entirely different realm. Some things don't change much. Sandor Clegane is one of them. Frankly, it just feels nice to pretend like he's some semblance of purpose again.

[theladyofwinterfell]

Sansa is at the door and Sandor is still looming large in it. She doesn't know what possesses her other than the fact that Jon isn't here and she should be protective of her person as queen but she steps to the side a bit and gestures back into the room. It isn't nearly large enough to hide anyone unless they are very small but still -

"Do you want to check the room for me?"

She poses it as a question as if it would be an optional thing to check for intruders or someone laying in wait for her specifically. In Westeros, it wouldn't be optional. She is simply too important to go into rooms alone without guards these days. Here, however, she is no one and nothing important except to her brother and the man in front of her.

[dogmeats]

It is, of course, a perfectly reasonable and common request — one he's obliged many times for her without her asking. Done at the Red Keep for her, done for Joffrey. All the same, something about it seems to irk him, to put a scowl on his face.

"Do I look like your fucking Queen's Guard?"

Yes, actually, he rather does — and beyond that, he does not wait for an answer before sweeping in and doing a swift but thorough sweep of the meager room. When he's done, he begs her pardon to leave with an only faintly mocking-sounding, "Your Grace."

It's accompanied by a facetious bow, and then lo, he turns and stomps out of the tavern without another word.