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)
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
[ 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.