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maskormenacelogs2017-02-05 09:36 pm
emgoldened) wrote in maskormenacelogs2017-02-05 09:36 pm
you'll no longer fear when your heart's turned to gold
WHO: Viserys Targaryen and YOU
WHERE: All over
WHEN: Month of February
WHAT: Stuff and things - first meetings, reunions, you name it
WARNINGS: Well his canon is what it is and Viserys is harsh to women, especially verbally...will update if there needs to be more here!
NONAH 006;
So. He's definitely dead. He's also not quite sure what sort of beyond this entire set up is. It's...nothing he'd ever been told, or been hinted it, or even imagined. The world was completely different. His ancestors were not sitting atop bejeweled thrones waiting to welcome him into their arms and tell him the future of their name. No comfort for his end, for his sister becoming a kinslayer. No reassurance. No horses, either, no sun, no dirt, no savages...something far more confusing and stranger and awaited, and for once in recent years? Viserys was rather cooperative and quiet. A magical feat to be sure, for when he was taken to his new "home" (ha-ha-ha) and began to find his footing, even a little bit, that shock slid down into his belly to join the rest of his nicely marinated bitterness. He'd be back in regular form sooner rather than later. He wasn't about to change out of his rotting clothes, which would help, tattered once-black top with a three-headed red dragon being the most notable thing on him.
He had managed to find the place while empty. That won't last forever. And his new roommates can come across him in a variety of ways. Perhaps he's turned the water faucet off and on in the kitchen, staring at it in an angry sort of confusion. Perhaps he's doing the same...in a bathroom that is not his. Or more invasive still: opening, inspecting, and trying to make sense of hygienic products most men would flee from. Perhaps he's standing in front of the TV with nothing but static on, or a really terrible infomercial about Tupperware, confused but amazed. He may be in the hallway, turning the lights off and on, seemingly offended by their mere existence. Or something else. Anything is possible.
PICK A CITY ANY CITY;
He is...trying. A little. There is some effort happening here that does not at all involve taking off the symbol of his family. So the clothes are a bit tattered and worn, and perhaps a little musty, so what! They are far, far better than anything this world has to offer. But. He is still trying. Trying to make sense of vehicles, and the many people, and places, of dogs and cats, of ice cream and other sweets, of hamburgers and foods he'd never have in the lands he was meant to rule, of the tall buildings, of just about everything there was or was not. So he can be found in quite literally any given situation, either looking grumpy and confused and standing out due to his whole everything, or perhaps causing a scene by nearly getting hit by a car. By offhandedly telling a hot dog vendor his food tastes better than horse meat, and getting some looks for it. Or worse than horse meat! Sky's the limit here, have a ball.
THE MESSIAH IS MY SISTER AIN'T NO KING MAN SHE'S MY QUEEN; CLOSED
And then, in this world of impossibility, he sees an impossibility that is familiar. A shadow hits the ground that he has seen in his dreams only. Looking up, he knows, despite knowing there are no more dragons—not those sort, anyway. From the reactions of those nearby, he also knows he isn't the only one who saw that. Who saw a dragon.
He followed. Like he'd heard the cry of his own child, Viserys kept an eye on wings and one ahead, and ran. Past any city he may have been near, into longer grasses, through shallow waters, it didn't matter. Suddenly he had all the energy and stamina in the world. Who can know the heart of a dragon, if not another dragon?
He worried he'd lost him, until he reached a steep slope. At the bottom of it was, yes, a dragon. A real dragon. So very dark in color, reminding him of a smaller Black Dread, stories and paintings running through his mind more than real fear. He was a Targaryen, he had nothing to fear. He knew. The dragon would know, too. That's how they were in days long past, anyway — surely that would be the same now?
His feet moved slowly, his heart beating just the opposite. Only when the dragon turned and noticed him did Viserys stop. Dead in his tracks, open-mouthed, in awe, hair and eyes a very very familiar shade...but the man himself, perhaps not familiar at all. Perhaps not having made the best decision here but still taking another step forward, for once looking every bit as humbled and submissive as he'd demanded of his sister.
WHERE: All over
WHEN: Month of February
WHAT: Stuff and things - first meetings, reunions, you name it
WARNINGS: Well his canon is what it is and Viserys is harsh to women, especially verbally...will update if there needs to be more here!
NONAH 006;
So. He's definitely dead. He's also not quite sure what sort of beyond this entire set up is. It's...nothing he'd ever been told, or been hinted it, or even imagined. The world was completely different. His ancestors were not sitting atop bejeweled thrones waiting to welcome him into their arms and tell him the future of their name. No comfort for his end, for his sister becoming a kinslayer. No reassurance. No horses, either, no sun, no dirt, no savages...something far more confusing and stranger and awaited, and for once in recent years? Viserys was rather cooperative and quiet. A magical feat to be sure, for when he was taken to his new "home" (ha-ha-ha) and began to find his footing, even a little bit, that shock slid down into his belly to join the rest of his nicely marinated bitterness. He'd be back in regular form sooner rather than later. He wasn't about to change out of his rotting clothes, which would help, tattered once-black top with a three-headed red dragon being the most notable thing on him.
He had managed to find the place while empty. That won't last forever. And his new roommates can come across him in a variety of ways. Perhaps he's turned the water faucet off and on in the kitchen, staring at it in an angry sort of confusion. Perhaps he's doing the same...in a bathroom that is not his. Or more invasive still: opening, inspecting, and trying to make sense of hygienic products most men would flee from. Perhaps he's standing in front of the TV with nothing but static on, or a really terrible infomercial about Tupperware, confused but amazed. He may be in the hallway, turning the lights off and on, seemingly offended by their mere existence. Or something else. Anything is possible.
PICK A CITY ANY CITY;
He is...trying. A little. There is some effort happening here that does not at all involve taking off the symbol of his family. So the clothes are a bit tattered and worn, and perhaps a little musty, so what! They are far, far better than anything this world has to offer. But. He is still trying. Trying to make sense of vehicles, and the many people, and places, of dogs and cats, of ice cream and other sweets, of hamburgers and foods he'd never have in the lands he was meant to rule, of the tall buildings, of just about everything there was or was not. So he can be found in quite literally any given situation, either looking grumpy and confused and standing out due to his whole everything, or perhaps causing a scene by nearly getting hit by a car. By offhandedly telling a hot dog vendor his food tastes better than horse meat, and getting some looks for it. Or worse than horse meat! Sky's the limit here, have a ball.
THE MESSIAH IS MY SISTER AIN'T NO KING MAN SHE'S MY QUEEN; CLOSED
And then, in this world of impossibility, he sees an impossibility that is familiar. A shadow hits the ground that he has seen in his dreams only. Looking up, he knows, despite knowing there are no more dragons—not those sort, anyway. From the reactions of those nearby, he also knows he isn't the only one who saw that. Who saw a dragon.
He followed. Like he'd heard the cry of his own child, Viserys kept an eye on wings and one ahead, and ran. Past any city he may have been near, into longer grasses, through shallow waters, it didn't matter. Suddenly he had all the energy and stamina in the world. Who can know the heart of a dragon, if not another dragon?
He worried he'd lost him, until he reached a steep slope. At the bottom of it was, yes, a dragon. A real dragon. So very dark in color, reminding him of a smaller Black Dread, stories and paintings running through his mind more than real fear. He was a Targaryen, he had nothing to fear. He knew. The dragon would know, too. That's how they were in days long past, anyway — surely that would be the same now?
His feet moved slowly, his heart beating just the opposite. Only when the dragon turned and noticed him did Viserys stop. Dead in his tracks, open-mouthed, in awe, hair and eyes a very very familiar shade...but the man himself, perhaps not familiar at all. Perhaps not having made the best decision here but still taking another step forward, for once looking every bit as humbled and submissive as he'd demanded of his sister.
no subject
"This is where I've lived for nearly a year. So, I suppose that would mean we'll be living together. Yours will be the room that's unoccupied, of course. Have you been upstairs yet?"
He certainly doesn't look like he's had a proper bath in a while, unless his hair is supposed to be that greasy. And the clothes certainly speak to a new arrival with nothing to change into. Perhaps she should do something about that, once the introductions are out of the way.
Ashiah clicks and chirps before skittering out of the room, making her way to the stairs. Kanaya snorts back a laugh, of course he's touched all of her things. The toys of a little grub are definitely the most fascinating thing for him to encounter here, she's sure.
She extends her hand to him. "I'm Kanaya, by the way."
no subject
He stares at her a few seconds longer than usual, then crosses any gap and does what he's seen more often than he's taken part of himself. Kings didn't shake hands. They were treated with more respect than equality. Kings also didn't receive their lethal crowns in a holy city of savages, but here they were.
His grip is a little flimsy, like he hasn't shaken hands in ages and almost has forgotten how. Hands are more suited to slapping sisters anyway.
"Viserys of the House Targaryen, the Third of His Name," he manages to cut himself off after, eyes stuck on those horns. She is clearly not of his world. Do his titles matter? Does his name?
no subject
She looks back toward the living room, on the way to the stairs. She could show him right to his room, but if he was wasting water like Ashiah said, and he's dressed according to to his own period, he might not quite get modern amenities. Like showers.
"Well, Viserys," she says his name carefully, it isn't one she's heard before, and wants to make sure she's saying it right, "why don't I give you the tour? How much of this ave you encountered before?"
no subject
"I would be grateful." He says, politely. Whether or not that's genuine remains to be seen but it's probably in the not category, because sincere gratitude is hard to come by. "I have seen the other room. There. It has a roaring bowl of water."
Welcome home, Kanaya. Your new roommate spent time enough to figure out how to flush the toilet. Did he flush the toilet at least a dozen times? Damn skippy he did.
"Is it for making stews?"
Not a lot is the answer she's looking for. He has not encountered a lot of this modern world.
no subject
"Noooo... Food only goes in there after it's been digested." Does he know what digestion means? She shouldn't take that for granted. "It's for waste. Stews are generally cooked on the stove." She points to the range behind him, but decides it may be safer to lead him away before he gets the thought to test it. Fewer burns to treat that way.
"Come along, I'll show you the upstairs." And she turns back to the living room, expecting him to follow.
no subject
"I see." Weird grossness is what he sees, but okay. Whatever. He'll adjust to that later. Following, though, is something he's gotten good at over the course of his life, so she's right to expect that. He takes the time to scope out her horns, even, as politely as possible. "Nearly a year. In this particular house or in this entire..."
He trails off. World, he means, but it's. Strange to say, isn't it? He lets it linger and sit there in the air between them assuming she'll understand.
no subject
Once they come to the upstairs hallway, one of the doors is cracked open. How Ashiah managed to open it is anyone's guess, but she really should have at least closed it. Kanaya corrects the oversight. "This one is mine. Don't come in without knocking, if you don't mind. Probably a good idea for any room that isn't yours."
She opens one of the doors on the right. "This one's the upstairs bathroom. The shower's in here, that might be good to try. Definitely always knock before entering either bathroom."
And then, the next door, she opens and gestures him in. "And this one will be yours!"
no subject
His gets more interest than even the bathroom (he'll figure it out later). Viserys pushes inside, leaving the door wide open behind him with no concern to being followed, and stands in the middle space to look around. He frowns. But there's something sad, not mad, about the whole situation. Like he can't believe what he's being handed and is having trouble hiding that.
"It will do." It will more than do after months with savages, but he has to hold to some sense of pride. "Why is it so cool?"
He looks back at her, lifting a hand to point to the ceiling.
"It is cooler than it should be, and the building hums."
He's made a connection, at least, just doesn't have all the tools necessary to get from A to Z alone.
no subject
She'll really have to do something about those rags he's wearing, though.
At his question, she looks back out to the hall. "Oh. That's the climate control. They'll have turned it down while I was at work. Too cold for you?" It's too cold for her, but everything is. She could turn it up to its maximum and still it wouldn't be enough.