Who: Daisy + open to others What: Avoiding emotions, having a Sad Birthday, and training When: Mid-June to mid-July Where: Around Milton (forest, houses, General Store)
[ there's a sad lady sitting alone at a table, a wobbling doll in front of her, and sansa has never related to anyone quite so intensely like she does with the stranger in this very moment.
she's been lingering in the store, quietly staring in marvel at all the strange objects lining the shelves. tin containers with faded paper covers, glass that isn't glass (she's been told it's plastic, whatever that means), objects that served some purpose she couldn't divine from looking at them alone.
sansa knocks on a wood shelf to announce herself, before stepping into the other woman's line of sight. ]
[ It takes a moment for that knock to register, reminding Daisy of just how much she's let herself go in the midst of her depression. Back home, she was always vigilant, a true credit to May and their many hours of training. She should be embarrassed, ashamed of how she's slipped, and yet she can't bring herself to be anything but tired and lonely.
Looking up at the young woman, she thinks she recognizes her as one of the more recently arrived. There's always been something about her that struck Daisy as both out of place and also perfectly at home, though she couldn't begin to explain either impression. ]
No, I'm not waiting for anyone. [ There's no one to wait for anymore. With a nod to the shelves, she poses a question, forever acting on the instinct to help and be useful to others. ] Are you looking for something?
[ the cold isn't kind to her hair, and try as her lady mother might, sansa's hair required so much treatment to meet her satisfaction. sansa misses it, the way her mother smooths out the stray hairs until the strands fell across her shoulders like silk. misses her fingers carding through them as she braids her hair into loose coils, that they might warm her while still looking presentable as the highborn daughter of lord eddard stark.
sansa approaches cautiously, as though she might offer some kindness. the other lady seems lost to her thoughts, and perhaps — well, she could attempt a good turn, if it be welcome. ]
[ If it pleases to know. There it is. Wherever the girl came from is a place different from Daisy's home. Their way of speaking, dressing, and likely their customs. It's not the first time she's met someone from a drastically different world, though, even before she was brought here. ]
As alright as any of us are here. [ She offers the girl a small smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. None of them are really alright here, after all. ] How are you doing with everything? This place is pretty different from your home, right?
[ Deflection. She's refined it into an art form. ]
[ sansa notices the deflection, having done much of the same both here and back home; in the interest of fairness, she doesn't pursue or point it out. that would make her a hypocrite, and rude besides. she does ask to take a seat, though, pulling up an errant chair and sitting at a polite distance from her. ]
I'm Lyanna. I think we've met in passing? And you're right, I've only recently arrived myself, and — well, it's been a rather eventful few weeks so far. Everything's so strange here, except for the cold.
Is it always like this? So—— fraught with tension, I suppose. The man called Methuselah isn't as forthcoming as he seems.
[ Daisy nods her permission and waits for the girl to take a seat. The items on the table remain where they are, small tokens of her life that no one else here could understand.
Eventful is putting it mildly. There had been some relatively boring weeks when she first arrived in Milton, but the last few months have seemed more horrible than the rest. At times, she almost wonders if it's by design, or if Milton might perhaps be gearing up for something. What that something might be, she doesn't know, but with two Darkwalker appearances under her belt, she's not ruling anything out. ]
No, he isn't. And I can't tell if it's because all of this has become normal for him, or if it's some other reason. [ She pulls in a deep breath and lets it out in a sigh, folding her arms on the edge of the small tabletop. ] But things weren't quite like this when I arrived. They weren't great, but people weren't fighting each other because of some thing's influence.
[ Fighting each other and worse. A bit of frustration crept into her voice with those last words, but it fades as she smiles again, this one still small but more genuine. ] I'm Daisy, by the way.
Men who keep secrets always mean to for some purpose that serves them best. Forgive my frankness.
[ even her noble father kept secrets, though sansa would be surprised by the depths of the secrets he'd kept up to his death. for better or worse, though, men think themselves masters of fate, and withhold as easily as they give. she trusts and distrusts methuselah in equal measure for it.
still, it's good to hear - however belatedly - that recent events have been outside of what's considered the usual in these parts. ]
Lady Daisy, [ sansa acknowledges. ] As like the flower? You honour me with your acquaintance, my lady.
If you'll permit me to ask, why are you sitting here in the quiet?
[ Lyanna isn't wrong, and it's clear she's been hurt by someone who kept secrets. That's all it takes for Daisy to immediately feel closer to and more protective of the younger girl, those emotions helping to chase away a few cobwebs of melancholy. She doesn't do well without a purpose, and maybe helping this girl can become part of who she is here.
Daisy's smile turns slightly amused at the way she's being addressed, but there's nothing malicious in the expression. She's just never been called lady before. ]
Well, first, I'm definitely not a lady, though I appreciate the vote of confidence. And second... I'm just feeling kind of lonely, I guess. [ Pausing, she reconsiders, given their previous topic of secrets. She isn't looking for sympathy, but that doesn't mean she has to keep it all to herself, right? Her gaze falls to the table and the sad package of cookies. ] It's my birthday, and the people I'm closest to here keep disappearing. If that means they went home, then I'm glad for them, but we don't know for sure, and either way, I'm still here.
[ Now that it's out, she feels exposed, and something in her tenses as if waiting for a blow. All her life, she's kept her vulnerabilities hidden, not wanting to risk being a burden to those around her. The fear of rejection runs deep in Daisy Johnson, and no number of acceptances will ever fix what's been broken. ]
Your name day. That's how we might call it, back home.
[ granted, a proper name day was reserved for those some title; the common folk hardly bothered to celebrate unless they possessed enough coin for it. sansa appreciates that she knows her name day, and that her father allowed her to find some joy in celebrating hers in the company of friends and family. ]
No one should be alone on their name day, my lady. Or—How would you like for me to address you?
[ she decides, then, what she must do. ]
If... If you'll permit me. I can embroider their names. Your friends who have gone. To honour the memories they've left you, something you can carry with you.
[ Name day. It sounds like such an antiquated title for the celebration, and she wonders at the sort of worlds the people around her came from. How different are they from herown? How lost are these people in such a foreign place? There's nothing she can do about any of it, yet she feels like she should be doing so much more.
The girl's offer catches her off guard, blindsiding her with the care behind it. She doesn't have anything of the two men she'd lost, the same way she doesn't have momentos of the friends she'd left behind at home, so the idea of having something... ]
Thank you. [ Her voice cracks a bit with a sudden swell of emotion that she swallows down. ] I would really appreciate that. Their names were Jim and Logan.
[ Such simple names for such complex people. She forces a grateful smile and addresses a previous question. ]
And just call me Daisy. Or if you feel like you need to be more formal or proper or whatever, you can call me Agent Johnson. That's my title: Agent.
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singillatim2024-07-01 11:52 pm
no subject
she's been lingering in the store, quietly staring in marvel at all the strange objects lining the shelves. tin containers with faded paper covers, glass that isn't glass (she's been told it's plastic, whatever that means), objects that served some purpose she couldn't divine from looking at them alone.
sansa knocks on a wood shelf to announce herself, before stepping into the other woman's line of sight. ]
Are you waiting for someone?
no subject
Looking up at the young woman, she thinks she recognizes her as one of the more recently arrived. There's always been something about her that struck Daisy as both out of place and also perfectly at home, though she couldn't begin to explain either impression. ]
No, I'm not waiting for anyone. [ There's no one to wait for anymore. With a nod to the shelves, she poses a question, forever acting on the instinct to help and be useful to others. ] Are you looking for something?
no subject
[ the cold isn't kind to her hair, and try as her lady mother might, sansa's hair required so much treatment to meet her satisfaction. sansa misses it, the way her mother smooths out the stray hairs until the strands fell across her shoulders like silk. misses her fingers carding through them as she braids her hair into loose coils, that they might warm her while still looking presentable as the highborn daughter of lord eddard stark.
sansa approaches cautiously, as though she might offer some kindness. the other lady seems lost to her thoughts, and perhaps — well, she could attempt a good turn, if it be welcome. ]
It can wait, though. Are you all right?
no subject
As alright as any of us are here. [ She offers the girl a small smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. None of them are really alright here, after all. ] How are you doing with everything? This place is pretty different from your home, right?
[ Deflection. She's refined it into an art form. ]
no subject
[ sansa notices the deflection, having done much of the same both here and back home; in the interest of fairness, she doesn't pursue or point it out. that would make her a hypocrite, and rude besides. she does ask to take a seat, though, pulling up an errant chair and sitting at a polite distance from her. ]
I'm Lyanna. I think we've met in passing? And you're right, I've only recently arrived myself, and — well, it's been a rather eventful few weeks so far. Everything's so strange here, except for the cold.
Is it always like this? So—— fraught with tension, I suppose. The man called Methuselah isn't as forthcoming as he seems.
no subject
Eventful is putting it mildly. There had been some relatively boring weeks when she first arrived in Milton, but the last few months have seemed more horrible than the rest. At times, she almost wonders if it's by design, or if Milton might perhaps be gearing up for something. What that something might be, she doesn't know, but with two Darkwalker appearances under her belt, she's not ruling anything out. ]
No, he isn't. And I can't tell if it's because all of this has become normal for him, or if it's some other reason. [ She pulls in a deep breath and lets it out in a sigh, folding her arms on the edge of the small tabletop. ] But things weren't quite like this when I arrived. They weren't great, but people weren't fighting each other because of some thing's influence.
[ Fighting each other and worse. A bit of frustration crept into her voice with those last words, but it fades as she smiles again, this one still small but more genuine. ] I'm Daisy, by the way.
no subject
[ even her noble father kept secrets, though sansa would be surprised by the depths of the secrets he'd kept up to his death. for better or worse, though, men think themselves masters of fate, and withhold as easily as they give. she trusts and distrusts methuselah in equal measure for it.
still, it's good to hear - however belatedly - that recent events have been outside of what's considered the usual in these parts. ]
Lady Daisy, [ sansa acknowledges. ] As like the flower? You honour me with your acquaintance, my lady.
If you'll permit me to ask, why are you sitting here in the quiet?
no subject
Daisy's smile turns slightly amused at the way she's being addressed, but there's nothing malicious in the expression. She's just never been called lady before. ]
Well, first, I'm definitely not a lady, though I appreciate the vote of confidence. And second... I'm just feeling kind of lonely, I guess. [ Pausing, she reconsiders, given their previous topic of secrets. She isn't looking for sympathy, but that doesn't mean she has to keep it all to herself, right? Her gaze falls to the table and the sad package of cookies. ] It's my birthday, and the people I'm closest to here keep disappearing. If that means they went home, then I'm glad for them, but we don't know for sure, and either way, I'm still here.
[ Now that it's out, she feels exposed, and something in her tenses as if waiting for a blow. All her life, she's kept her vulnerabilities hidden, not wanting to risk being a burden to those around her. The fear of rejection runs deep in Daisy Johnson, and no number of acceptances will ever fix what's been broken. ]
no subject
Your name day. That's how we might call it, back home.
[ granted, a proper name day was reserved for those some title; the common folk hardly bothered to celebrate unless they possessed enough coin for it. sansa appreciates that she knows her name day, and that her father allowed her to find some joy in celebrating hers in the company of friends and family. ]
No one should be alone on their name day, my lady. Or—How would you like for me to address you?
[ she decides, then, what she must do. ]
If... If you'll permit me. I can embroider their names. Your friends who have gone. To honour the memories they've left you, something you can carry with you.
That way, you're never alone.
no subject
The girl's offer catches her off guard, blindsiding her with the care behind it. She doesn't have anything of the two men she'd lost, the same way she doesn't have momentos of the friends she'd left behind at home, so the idea of having something... ]
Thank you. [ Her voice cracks a bit with a sudden swell of emotion that she swallows down. ] I would really appreciate that. Their names were Jim and Logan.
[ Such simple names for such complex people. She forces a grateful smile and addresses a previous question. ]
And just call me Daisy. Or if you feel like you need to be more formal or proper or whatever, you can call me Agent Johnson. That's my title: Agent.