Open | November

[wwrench]

WHO: wwrench + OPEN TO ANYONE
WHEN: November
WHERE: Solvunn + Horizon + Nocwich
WHAT: Fortifying for winter and doing some shady (?) shit, setting up his Horizon and offering some ASL lessons, and general exploration
WARNINGS: TBD - will be marked and added as they appear

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COMMUNICATION FAQ
If you'd like to plot a closed starter with Wrench, catch me at stickyholograms

Comments

[dogmeats]

PEOPLE DON'T VOTE FOR KINGS, YOU BLOODY JACKANAPE

Comes the immediate answer, accompanied by another deep rolling of his eyes. If Kings were chosen by vote, they'd have gotten rid of that little shit Joffrey before he even finished his first week on the bloody throne. Beheading Ned Stark would've made sure of that.

Never, ever call him puppylike unless you want a fist to the throat, Wrench. Even if he does look a bit like a basset hound, as his nickname rather implies.

He does stop in his tracks to level Wrench with an incredulous look when that explanation follows.

"Dragons," he echoes, forgetting for a moment to send it in brain-text. "You're telling me you protected that rock from dragons? The fuck you did."

[wwrench]

That’s what made it so incredible. It was the first ever democratic election of a monarch. They said I was just so inspiring.

Is it clear that Wrench never paid much attention in history class? Oh well. He’s certain his insistence will make Sandor roll his eyes, and from a half-step behind the man comes a quiet, unintended smirking. It’s as if Wrench can’t keep his amusement to himself.

But when the man speaks instead, all humor drops. He pushes a bit forward, trying to reposition him to catch those words as they’re spoken. It’s a feature of being taken off-guard that Wrench even tries. At any other time he’d probably roll his eyes and insist Sandor find another way to communicate whatever he’s saying, but he’s caught up in the moment and in trailing the man back for a drink. That earns an added effort.

What, you know about dragons? I didn’t see them myself. Not that time.

Opinion changed fast, I guess. Went from killing dragons and things like it to trying to protect their eggs.

[dogmeats]

Sandor's flat, dead stare through the line of horseshit Wrench tries to sell him is absolutely unmoved. Does he know exactly what democracy is? Not entirely, though he can more or less piece together the context clues. It doesn't matter, he knows shit talk when he hears it, and he is Fully Unimpressed, thank you kindly.

AYE, I KNOW ABOUT DRAGONS. THEY USED TO KEEP THE SKULLS OF DRAGONS IN THE RED KEEP. YOU'D BE LUCKY TO MAKE HALF A SNACK FOR ONE, LET ALONE DEFEND YOUR BLOODY SHRINE FROM IT.

All the same, he can't help but privately agree — from what he's heard, from the things that happened just before they pulled him through, it's a hypocritical turn-around. Slaughtering the monsters threatening innocent lives, to then trying to save them. He can't say he understands, but he also can't say he's too interested in trying.

He sets off at a walk again, recovering his steps, striding purposefully toward the tavern.

HOW'D YOU KNOW YOUR GOD LIKED IT, ANYWAY? THEY GIVE YOU A SIGN OR A WRITTEN FUCKING PROMISSORY NOTE OR SOMETHING?

[wwrench]

It’s not like Wrench to pass judgment on the whims of others. Rather, it isn’t in his nature to try too hard to assert his own opinion on what other people do. He largely considers it none of his business. If there’s a need for him to interject, someone else will make that judgment call for him, and by that point it won’t matter what the person has to say for themselves anyway. But want of conversation makes him a little more earnest, and confusion over the political whims that govern this place leaves him wondering how others interpret the choices they’re given. He’s spoken to Wanda about it a bit, but he has to admit that the woman seems a world away from himself.

Honorable, that is. Deeply concerned with the wellbeing of others. Self-sacrificial. All things that Wrench doesn’t see in himself.

It wasn’t a dragon I killed. They were something called darkhounds. Overgrown wolves with acid in their spit.

An old lady told me.

[dogmeats]

Sandor sees some of the same things in Wanda. Maybe not so much with the self-sacrifice and the honor, but he can fully see the deep concern for the wellbeing of strangers. She takes initiative in caring for the Summoned, in bringing them together. She seems like she has a purpose, she seems sure of herself, she seems driven. She has the necessary qualities and breeding of a leader, and the right amount of kindness that Sandor feels fine enough falling into line behind her.

He wonders if she knows that if she chose to make a stand, chose to take something by force, she'd have at least two loyal, relatively strong henchmen to help her take it. Wonders whether or not she'd use them. Whether or not she'd need to, considering the raw power of magic she's got under her control.

They reach the tavern. He pauses with his hand on the door to shoot Wrench a sideways look.

AN OLD LADY TOLD YOU?