[open] When I was a child I'd sit for hours staring into open flames...

[dorzalta]

Who: Daenerys Targaryen and YOU!
When: Shortly after her arrival.
Where: Library, Main Street, and house 1016.
What: Brooding queen, house mingle, and more!
Warnings: None aside from an annoyed dragon queen who might throw around some threats of violence??


Suffice it to say, Dany is none too pleased to discover the walls which surround her are not those of a Targaryen ship, but that of... well, she's not entirely sure. It's a small space, bloodied. There are two eggs in her arms: one black with tints of red in its scales, one a deep green. She stares down at these and her eyes and nose burn.

There should be three.

I. Main Street
The threat of blood is not one which frightens her. Though it is clear she is without her armies, knights, and council--that she is without her dragons--she is no stranger to relying on herself. Had she not survived the slaughter of her first khalasar? The attacks of the Sons of the Harpy? An abduction by the Dothraki?

Upon her arrival to the building which someone claims to be that of her home, Dany takes one look at the strange trinkets within--and promptly turns and walks back out. She can be found settled on a patch of grass outside, by this strange and hardened road named 'Main Street,' the two eggs set carefully in front of her. She wears black, with a dragon brooch upon her right shoulder.

Should you approach as she kneels in front of her eggs, she will frown at you. But if you come later, you may catch her in the process of building a pile of dried debris. Or maybe it's while she lovingly places the eggs atop this pile of dried wood. Or, you might catch her... setting the eggs afire? Rolling her sleeve up and placing her hand within the flames to touch an egg? Take your pick.

II. Library
This space is one which houses far more books than Dany imagined possible. There's a look of wonder, manifested in the slight widening of her eyes, the parting of her lips. Her footsteps echo within the large, brightly lit space, fingers trailing along a shelf, skimming the spines of book after book.

"I've never seen so many in one place before," she murmurs by way of explanation, if you catch her ogling.

III. Open to housemates in 1016
Alas, her exploration of the library and her attempts at hatching her eggs fail. As night crawls closer and strange noises make themselves known, Dany retreats to this supposed bedroom of hers. When she is within her room, her door is closed. A simple knock would draw her away from her eggs.

Eventually, she does wander into the common space, if only to stare with furrowed brows at the metal objects. "What is this?" she'll ask in way of greeting, should she hear nearby footsteps. There are three other rooms in this building, after all, and they look the exact same as the doorway to her chambers. Why would there not be another residing here?

IV. Wildcard
Not feeling these prompts? You're welcome to come at me with one of your own, or poke me on plurk (bubblytangerine) or discord (ginger trash#3728) if you'd like to hash out a different scenario! :>


[ ooc: Feel free to come at me with prose or brackets, I'll match your preference. ]

Comments

I

[dark_rescue]

Lea has always enjoyed meeting new people--that was one thing the Organization had never been able to take from him. Through all the years he was told to stay out of sight, to keep a low profile, he never lost that underlying desire to chat people up. (This, of course, often got him into his share of trouble, back in the day. Thankfully, he doesn't have to answer to those jerks anymore.) Being here in this strange city, while a bit inconvenient, has provided ample opportunity to meet a few interesting characters, and so far it seems that won't be stopping anytime soon.

As he meanders down Main Street, he happens to spot a young woman with silvery hair, crouched in front of what looks like a small pyre built of sticks. He watches her light the pyre, noting that there appear to be two eggs resting in the flames, and he just can't help but surrender to his curiosity. These eggs don't look like the ones they were urged to take from the chest at the welcoming party--and even if they did resemble them, everyone he'd encountered had only been able to take one. How did this woman get two, and where did they even come from?

He pauses about a meter away from her and drops to a crouch. Lea of all people understands the need for a personal space bubble, and something about this woman radiates guarded caution, so he doesn't want to get too close and spook her.

"I'm gonna go out on a limb here and guess this isn't lunch," he says a bit dryly, watching as she pokes the flames a bit. Fire is, of course, always relevant to Lea's interests, and certainly finding other enthusiasts is never a bad thing, but he has a feeling this woman has a much more interesting story than anything else he's heard recently.

[dorzalta]

It takes much to spook Dany, as it were--particularly after the things she's seen and experienced thus far. This place? However she'd been brought here remains to be seen; however, the fear which dogs her heels is reserved for her loved ones back home, not for herself. If she's not there, and her last remaining dragons are here...

There is a war to be had. Her forces and allies required, if not her, then her dragons. Full grown dragons.

A man with vibrant red hair speaks, pulling her focus away from thoughts and her eggs. He has bright eyes, a friendliness to his expression which invites something calmer in her response. It's not precisely warm, seeing as he's a stranger, but she also does not address him as a queen would the commonfolk. "Certainly not, my lord. Were they their original size, my children would deem us their meals." Or him. Drogon and Rhaegal would not attack their mother.

Glancing back down, she rolls her sleeve and reaches out. The heat of flames licks at her fingers, a familiar, comforting warmth. Having only lit the fires, the shells are still somewhat cool to the touch. It would take some time for the heat to penetrate, and she suspects this small a setup will yield very little. Still...

"It took magic and a funeral pyre to hatch them once before."

[dark_rescue]

A look of mild puzzlement crosses his features briefly as she addresses him, accompanied by a small, amused smile. She has a pleasant way of speaking, her accent reminiscent of a place called London he had visited a few times.

"Lord?" he echoes, shaking his head and waving one hand a little. "Nah, I'm not that important." He scoots closer, sort of shuffling while still crouched, which of course looks ridiculous, but in his experience, a willingness to not take oneself too seriously goes a long way in making new allies. He offers a hand. "Name's Lea," he says, and waits to ask the question burning at the back of his tongue. She speaks with purpose, like one used to addressing people en masse, and he doesn't want to interrupt if she has more to say. He looks only mildly concerned for just a moment as she reaches into the flames, a soft, wordless noise leaving his lips before he nips off the reflexive warning.

When she doesn't recoil in pain, when the flames don't mar her skin, he can only stare, impressed and intrigued.

"Now there's something you don't see every day," he remarks, eyebrows lifted. Though a fire-wielder himself, Lea can still be harmed by fire not his own. The flames he can conjure at will no longer burn him (though he did spend the first several weeks of his training without eyebrows, once upon a time), but he's not sure he's ever seen anyone else perform such a feat, and certainly not so nonchalantly. Whoever this woman is, fire is no magic trick to her, it's simply a way of life.

When she speaks again, his eyebrows once more rise toward his hairline in curiosity.

"Hatch them?" he asks, tilting his head a little. Hatch her children? An interesting way to describe one's pets or companions, but certainly not unheard of. "Can I ask what exactly is gonna hatch?" He ventures a soft smile then, tinctured with a hint of mischief. "If you need more fire, I might know a guy who can help."

[dorzalta]

"A modest man, then." His scuttle closer earns the hint of amusement: the faint quirk of lips, a crinkle to the corners of her eyes. Dany knows of very few who would attempt that stunt, their pride far more important than being amusing for the sake of it. And that is what this is, correct? Amusement for the sake of it.

When was the last time she'd laughed? Truly laughed? Hard to recall...

"Daenerys," she responds in kind, hesitating for only a moment before clasping his forearm. Asha taught this to her. A warrior's agreement, as it were, not a greeting. There's a question brightening her eyes briefly, as she meets his gaze. What were they agreeing to, exactly? (Sadly, she's very little experience in handshakes for greetings.)

The next smile he earns is a full one, a quiet huff of amusement softening her features as she shifts Drogon's egg, and then Rhaegal's. Like stone, they feel. Distant, trapped. "Fire cannot kill a dragon." The amusement bleeds away moments later, her expression growing somber. This feels far too reminiscent to times long ago, when the world was too, too large, and she was too, too insignificant. "My children slumber within. Dragons. I'd raised them from hatchlings and into adults." There were three, she doesn't say.

How they reverted back into eggs, she's unsure. Puzzling the fact would cause enough headache, so when she's satisfied the fussing is adequate, Dany leans back. He's attentive. Friendly. Interested in a way that should cause alarm, but does not. He easily her children could be stolen at this point. Vulnerable, as they were when Pyat Pree attempted his kidnapping.

"There's not enough fire in the world." Particularly not here. Curiosity piqued, she rolls her sleeve back down and considers Lea. "And this man, how skilled at fire-making is he?"

sorry for the wait! i just moved and i've been trying to make my apartment livable.

[dark_rescue]

"Modest?" He purses his lips and grins a little. "I dunno if I'd go that far, I mean, I'm a little important." He chuckles, pleased at least that she smiled a bit. "Dae... nerys," he echoes when she says her name, and it rolls off his tongue a little clumsily, but not bad for someone who's never heard Valyrian before.

She seems a little puzzled by the handshake, clasping his arm more as though she meant to pull him forward, or perhaps strike up a treaty, and he smiles.

"It's not a blood pact or anything," he says benignly, moving slowly as he adjusts her grip a little, making eye contact as he does so to indicate he's not trying anything funny. "Here, like this," he says, gently relocating her hand so they can shake properly. "It's just a greeting, a 'hey how ya doin'?' sort of thing. Heh, I forget sometimes that people come from all over." He had been the victim of more than one misstep on other worlds before, so he hopes, at least, that the gentle correction doesn't embarrass or offend her. "Nice to meet'cha, Daenerys," he says as he gives her hand a deliberate shake in demonstration, and the name comes out with no stumbling this time.

When she goes on about dragons, though, he finds himself a little puzzled. She speaks as though she herself were a dragon, which... Well, he guesses that isn't outside the realm of possibility. From what he hears, Xehanort's Heartless turned into a spaceship when Riku and Sora were in battle with him, so... A dragon is definitely less absurd than a spaceship, in any case.

"So they were fully grown," he says carefully, gesturing to the eggs, "but now they're eggs again?" He taps his chin. That's odd, but what about their current situation isn't odd, really? His eyes glint curiously then. "I've never seen a baby dragon before," he admits. Truly, he's never seen any dragon before, outside of picture books, but a baby one seems like it would be much less intimidating for making first impressions. He likes animals, and he loves fire, of course, so he would like to think he and a dragon might hit it off. "I hope maybe I'll get to meet them, when they hatch.

"As for this guy's fire-making skills, well..."

He makes a grand show of rolling back sleeves (that he doesn't even have) and then holds up one hand, index finger raised. With a flourish, he snaps his fingers, and the tip of the raised finger lights up like a Zippo.

"He's had a few years' experience," he says with a knowing smile, twisting his hand to let the little flame rest in his palm. This trick never gets old, honestly.

no worries! :> are you settled(ish), now?

[dorzalta]

Is it the way in which he stumbles over her name that causes her amusement, or his claim to being important? This is not the haughty declaration of a self-obsessed lord, but of a man comfortable in his own skin. One who has no need for titles or respect--at least not in the way that royalty seems to lean on it.

His banter reminds her of a time when Yara came and pleaded for her aid. That same spark of mischievousness flickers now, and despite her anger, the roaring need for vengeance, her dragons, she inclines her head toward Lea. "Only a little? By all means, you've no need to stay mute regarding your accomplishments. Consider me your captive audience."

Lea's assurance does settle her somewhat. It seemed rude to ignore the offer, and while his explanation does lend logic to its side, this seems more a man's gesture than a queen's. Her estimations of him increase just that much more over his treatment of her. Not a delicate flower. Not someone who could break. He behaves as if they're equals.

His hand is warm and solid against hers, his hold firm, yet not painful. With the leathers of her gloves on the ground, there is some exposure to touch, but not in any way that might prompt her to recoil. "It's customary to..." Her brows crease just slightly as she returns the shake, not nearly as deliberate as his is. The fire crackles in front of her, forgotten however momentarily. "Do this, when you've just met someone? Or is it a greeting for each subsequent reunion, as well?" More importantly--her head whips up, blue meeting blue-green eyes. "You've traveled to other realms?"

That certainly makes him a valued ally. Any experience would be preferable to none.

"They were--are." Expression turning grim, Dany allows her hands to settle in her lap as she regards her eggs. No... this flame would not be enough. "The leader of this realm mocks me. Whatever magic he or she prefers, they've brought back the dead and transformed my children into hatchlings." Something in her softens as she looks back at Lea. "Few have heard a baby dragon sing. It's a beautiful sound that I hope you will hear, should these two decide to hatch. Even I believed I'd never hear it again."

Very few things in life render Dany mute. It takes extremes to surprise her, to silence her, to distract her enough to lose her footing. And yet...

The flame flickers to life with no coaxing, hovering just above a bare finger, dancing in place. Exposure to the ills of magic should prompt her to be wary; instead, she lifts her hand, meeting his gaze with a question in her eyes.