thespherelogs | another bruise

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another bruise

Who: Arya Stark - OTA
What: Brooding and looking for things to do, hopefully meeting new people!
When: Post masquerade - middle of January
Where: Rec dome, around the dorm domes, tavern/market dome
Warnings: None, but will update if necessary

Ever since the masquerade, Arya has kept to herself, choosing to get through her all the thoughts in her head by giving herself time to think. But, she has questions. So many of them. About the Sphere and the powers that it seems to have. The only explanations given were, to her, very basic.

She spends a lot of her time in the recreational dome, enjoying the sun on her skin and realizing that she much prefers this to the intense cold of the North, even if she knows she'll end up missing it sooner rather than later. It was home. Even if it hasn't been so long since she was last there.

Later in the evenings, she heads out to get a bite to eat and a cup of ale to wash it all down. She does her people-watching without looking too obtrusive before engaging in a lighthearted conversation with the barkeep. He gets her laughing and it's a welcome feeling after all the hurt and betrayal and anger that seems to be lingering about. She tries not to dwell on it, but sometimes it's hard.

In the end, all the time Arya spends alone allows her to make some very important decisions. Ones that won't be the easiest to carry through, but are necessary if leaving is not an option.

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There's no better way to get to know a new place than to go out and experience it and that is precisely what Remy sets out to do. The recreation rome's pretty nice, even if he knows the setting is a hologram. It's real enough to warm him skin in the middle of January and the swamp rat welcomes it. New York might be home now, but it gets mighty cold in the winter and he's never really adapted.

He's at a basketball court, actually dribbling and shooting baskets, working up a good sweat, when he notices the girl, seemingly enjoying the sun and he flashes her a charming smile.

"Bonjour, petit. You enjoyin' the sun too, eh?"

Edited 2021-01-19 22:50 (UTC)

She had been slowly walking by when the sound of a ball bouncing on pavement caught her attention and she watches with intrigue. Obviously, it's nothing they have in Westeros. In fact, there wasn't even anything similar to it. So, she pays attention and when the new face speaks, her blue-grey eyes move up to his face, staring blankly at first before giving a nod.

"What does that mean?" Arya asks, her tone curious but only just. "And what is it you're doing with that?"

She points to the different looking ball in his hand.

He does stop dribbling the ball, moving it to the crook of his arm to better chat with her. He gives her a smile, playful and a little flippant.

"Just a fancy way of sayin' 'hello'. The name's Remy, and this," he moved the ball to his palm, give it a toss into the air, caught it with his fingertips and spun it a couple of times. "Is a basketball. That," he motioned to the hoop on the tall staff with the backboard. "Is the basket. Aim of the game is to get the ball away from your opponent, get it through that hoop the most times. I'm just practicin', gettin' some exercise, 'less somebody wants to try her hand?" He raised and eyebrow at her.

Despite the obvious showing-off that he's doing, it is kind of impressive. Reminds her a little of the antics that some knights did with their swords or staves. It definitely looks like the ball much easier to maneuver.

Arya steps forward, showing that she did want to try her hand at it.

"Sure, I'll try."

He smiled, happy to oblige, and passed the ball, tossing it so it bounced first before heading her way.

"You wanna know the rules or you just wanna take your shot at the basket first?"

Arya catches it, which surprises her a little even if it shouldn't. Her reflexes are good and she's graceful enough. In a way, this was almost like a one on one duel.

He can barely get the words out before Arya is taking her first shot. Her technique would need to be fine-tuned but she's close and the ball bounces off the rim of the basket and flies off a little to the left side of the court.

"What other rules could there be if the name of the game is to put the ball through that basket?" she asks as she goes over to get the ball.

He crosses his arms, looking clearly impressed as he watched her take the shot. "Not bad, not bad at all."

He then goes about pointing out the lines and explaining about traveling and points (which the writer isn't particularly familiar with). "You get all that?"

Llewellyn loved the domes that were set up with a more natural light. It was almost like being under the open sky. So between the fact that he didn’t like the dark, and the fact that he hated feeling like he was inside all the time? The recreational dome was easily one of his favourite places.

After all, in his own world he spent most of his time outdoors. The world was his office, a park bench was his desk, when you were a bit of a spare part at your job sometimes. On top of that, Llewellyn is the sort to stop and chat if he sees someone new. So Arya would find herself approached by a fellow with a slightly awkward stride, walking his dog.

“You look bored.” He commented curiously (and bluntly), his wrinkled brow almost comically similar to the small basset hounds pup that was trotting at his heels.

Pulled from her thoughts by a form in her periphery, Arya looks up at the new face before lowering it to the dog down at his side. She was rather glad for the unexpected company. There had been too much thinking being done about what had happened at the masquerade and all she wanted was to forget about it for a while.

The gentleman looks friendly enough, so Arya gives a small smile and shrugs her shoulders. "Maybe a little bit," she answers, looking down at the dog again. "I am not used to sitting in one place for too long. In my world, not here."

But, that realization of only moving around so much in the Sphere has definitely crossed her mind, too.

Llewellyn was usually friendly, if a little clumsy and blunt in his approach at times. He did try to work on it, but sometimes old habits and all that. He smiled a little at the admission, “Mm... A terrible thing, in my experience. The mind needs to be stimulated, after all, or your thoughts just start running without you.” And then one got in trouble, in his personal experience.

The dog gives her an excited little wag of his tail, entire body wiggling for the attention. He’s still young yet, and quite excitable.

“I can relate though, sitting still has never been my strong suit. Either here or in my world. Don’t know how people who sit most of their day do it.” He added, with a small gesture, talking with his free hand while the other was occupied with Pretzel’s leash. He’s rather pleased to find someone of a like mind, “I’m uh— Detective Llewellyn Watts, I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you. I presume you’re a newer arrival?”

It was a terrible thing and in her case, perhaps even dangerous. Left with her thoughts too long and Arya was realizing quickly how angry she was at the circumstances that were well underway by the time she arrived. How could a daughter lose her father twice in one lifetime?

She smiles at the dog again, reaching out to give the dog's head a gentle pat and a scratch of his ears while giving him a nod.

"Arya Stark," she replies, straightening again. "I arrived shortly before the winter festivities began. How long have you been here?"

The question comes with a note of hopefulness.

“It’s nice to meet you, Miss Stark.” Circumstances aside, of course. He knew that not everyone was as agreeable to being here as he was. Pretzel was happy for the attention and settled down a little for it. As though some kind of toll had been paid to continue the conversation with Llewellyn.

The question gets a noticeably awkward little pause. People who needed to go home sooner rather than later didn’t usually like his answer. “Uh— Well, I’ve been here almost a year now.” A year as of February tenth, he’d kept track, if only because he wrote everything down due to his rather spotty memory. Plus he was more than a little sentimental, and good things had happened despite the bad that were worth noting.

Arya's opinion on the matter would likely surprise him. After killing the Night King and knowing that threat was dealt with, Cersei could wait. Unless time really was moving forward and her hearing otherwise was a lie.

"A year," she echoes softly. "Have you been the only one from your world brought here?"

She is looking for answers to specific questions and it would become more and more obvious as their conversation goes on.

Llewellyn shook his head a little as he responded, “I’m the only person that’s arrived from my world, at least in all the time that I’ve been here?” Sometimes he wished he weren’t, but other days he was grateful for the fact. There was so much of his life he tended to hide back in his own world... And a lot of things he’d be worried about having to explain to some people he worked with.

Shrugging a little, he continued a moment later. “People come and go all the time, and I know that sometimes this place seems to pull people from the same world more often than others.” The detective was happy to help someone new get an idea of how this rather strange place worked. Though he couldn’t help but wonder about her particular line of questioning, unsure if she was hoping to see someone or to not.

Wanda spent a decent amount of time in the recreational dome though she wasn't alone. With her was a large dragon shaped out of stars and it was chasing after a canon ball sized orb that looked as if it was throwing itself across the dome. Red mist surrounded Wanda and the ball before it was catapulted across the dome. The dragon always managed to catch it before it caught the ground, returning to Wanda's side.

It was during one of these throws that Wanda had miss-aimed and she had to use her powers to stop the ball instead of relying on Bjart to catch it. The dragon looked as if she was waiting for the ball to be thrown again though it's expression and the wag of its tail made it appear inpatient. "Excuse me." She spoke in a light rounded accent, her misty green eyes warm as she spotted Arya. "I hope Bjart and I aren't in the way. We can move our game." He takes up a lot of room.

It was much easier when Wanda had been able to keep Bjart in the abandoned domes but they had vanished, forcing Wanda to find an alternative place for Bjart. Luckily the large dragon was now more comfortable around people... it was only getting people comfortable around her.

Luckily, Arya had seen dragons before, though not made of stars and it's hard not to stand there with her mouth dropped open a little bit at what she's seeing. It takes another half-second for the other woman's voice to register before even acknowledging her presence.

"Oh, no," she replies, eyes moving back to the celestial dragon. "I'm not here to.."

Arya pauses, brow pinching curiously.

"Is your dragon real? Or magical?"

Wanda looked up at Bjart with a subtle motherly smile. Her misty green eyes were filled with a soft understanding warmth. "I don't know." She laughed and shook her head. "Believe it or not, Bjart was found here in the sphere. I don't know where she was born or where she'd come from. As far as I know, she is the only of her kind but someone had to look after her." After both of her semi-adopted parents had left.

"She's getting used to people but I worry about others attacking her out of fear." It was a reaction that Wanda was familiar with. "You can pet her if you'd like."

She inspected Bjart for a moment and then decided to venture a guess. "She is real but I do think that she is something magical too. Perhaps a piece of this world." A sky that they couldn't see.

There's a young girl at the corner of the bar laughing with one of her bartenders when Eponine comes in for her shift. She tosses on her apron, and tells her employee to get lost. As he clocks out, Eponine settles herself into the role she'd come to love: proprietess and bartender for Le Gavroche.

She grabs a rag and wipes down the bar as she looks at the girl. "You enjoying your drink?" She looks like Ned, she realizes. Perhaps another Stark. There were so many here, but at least none of them hated her any longer.

"I am," Arya nods, giving a slight smile. "Though it is nothing I have ever had before. The other that was working here said it was called a tequila sunrise?"

It was pretty enough and quite tasty, not to mention it had a nice kick to it. Arya was beginning to forget everything that was vexing her.

"We have mostly ale where I'm from. And mulled wine."

"Ah, yes. Tequila, orange juice, and grenadine. Quite delicious." She smiles at the girl.

"Let me guess- you are from Westeros?" She raises an eyebrow at her, already knowing the answer. She was a Stark, certainly. There were so many here, now, she could hardly keep track.

"We have ale and mulled wine as well, if you wish to return to what you know. Sometimes, it is nice."

Arya's smile falls a little and her brow pinches curiously.

"I am," she answers. "You obviously see a resemblance with both my father and brother Jon."

Robb and Sansa took after their mother in looks, making it harder to connect them as family. But, sometimes, when they were all together, one could see it.

"So, who are you?"

Eponine frowns just slightly, the edges of her lips tugging downward. "I am the woman who will be pouring your drinks, you," she says, looking at her across the bar. She chides her, but by the end of it, she's smirking again.

"You may call me Eponine." She's the one who fucked both your father and your brother on top of this very same bar. "I am friends with your family, and the owner of this establishment."

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another bruise

Rec Dome

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Recreational Dome

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Recreational Dome

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sorry for my slow!

the best bar in town

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