ygritte

ygritte. 25 years old. how could he explain ygritte to them? she's warm and smart and funny and she can kiss a man or slit his throat.

[gcraster]

you say you want a revolution ; gilly & ygritte | september 14th

[gcraster]

Gilly feels a bit stupid, truly. She hasn’t been following politics in ages, and she wasn’t really able to before, either; when she was younger and living at home (it seems so long ago) her father limited the amount of media she paid attention to. She watched TV for only a few hours a week, and she didn’t have a computer at home. Anything she learned about government she picked up at school, and that was an extremely biased view she learned from.

She bites her lip. 

“Um…” 

She sighs, wondering if she should lie. She decides lying would be useless; why bother lying when the goal here is to learn as much as she can so she can make a decision based on her own thoughts?

“This is really embarrassing,” she says, almost mumbling and certainly blushing. “I’m probably the only uni student you’ll talk to today who tells you that they know, like, literally nothing here, but —” 

She looks down at her feet. “I, um, don’t really know anything about it. Like… at all.”

Ugh. Embarrassing. 

[fire--kiss]

 Nothing, Ygritte is probably a bit of an exaggeration. Gilly must know something; if very little at all. Information she must have gathered from eyes skimming through the crowd, catching a glimpse of poster, a forgotten newspaper left on an empty seat at the Tube. And if not that, Gilly must see it all around her around the city from fragments of a government falling apart from within. 

"Nah," Ygritte shakes her head, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed as she looks at Gilly in disbelief. "I doubt it."

Ygritte's talked to far too many people she can count in one day. She'll talk to more people tomorrow, and the day after that. And she knows that Gilly's not the only university student who remains blissfully ignorant -- whether by choice or by circumstance. "I volunteer for the Independent party," she starts, before quickly adding. "For Mance Rayder. And you'd be surprise to know how many people think they know something but they actually don't." She chuckles and shakes her head.

"It seems kind of pointless going around with doing what I do --" Ygritte says helplessly, shrugging. "Considering that even weeks after martial law, there still seems to be no hint of calling elections anytime soon. You remember the riots, don't you? People were -- still are -- quite angry. It's just now, they're all scared." 

[gcraster]

you say you want a revolution ; gilly & ygritte | september 14th

[gcraster]

Gilly looks at her closely — looks at the studs and the trainers and the pamphlets, and thinks, this girl is dedicated. She’s impressed by her conviction and wishes, for a moment, that there was something (other than her family, small but good and waiting for her back at her apartment) she felt as passionate about. Something she wanted to share with the world. (Her family is not something she wants to share, not so easily, not to anyone passing by.) 

She doesn’t know much about Mance, but she knows that he’s a force to be reckoned with. She knows that there’s something about him that’s mysterious, something that draws her in. She almost wants to ask the girl — Ygritte — what it is, if she knows his secret. But maybe it’s a little soon for that.

Gilly smiles. “Um, I might be,” she says carefully. And then, after a short pause: “Gilly. I’m Gilly.” And then, “Hello.”

[fire--kiss]

The university campus is bustling with people. It's easy, perhaps very briefly, to forget that martial law was still amongst them, that the Olympic stadium not very long ago had been bombed and exploded into almost nothing, that the old Prime Minister and his son were caught in the middle of an angry, hungry mob and the Old Bailey burned. It's easy to forget. Routine has a habit of doing that. But in an instant, Ygritte catches the remains and ruins of the past summer from the corner of her eye. A man clad in military clothing. A dog beside him, leashed.

(Another reminder, she thinks to herself, of why she does what she does, of why she's placed her efforts in Mance Rayder's Independent party campaign)

It's a quick distraction and Ygritte almost misses the girl's name when the other girl spoke. Gilly is quiet as she is small; her smile friendly and shy. Ygritte returns the gesture. "Gilly," she repeats, aware of her own forgetfulness of people's names. Her fingers trace the edge of the small poster pamphlets in her hand. "Might be interested?" she asks with a feigned hint of surprise, an eyebrow raised.

She can't quite remember exactly how or when she became passionate about politics. She does, however, remember why. (And perhaps, that's all that matters really) "You should be. Very much so," Ygritte adds. She knows she can't force Gilly to vote Mance Rayder (especially when the date for the elections and the end of martial law remains unknown) and since Ygritte knows she can't put all her cards in convincing Gilly, she can convince her into paying more attention to the government, into caring a lot more.

It's worth a shot.

"I know we don't know exactly when they'll call for elections but it's never too early to start looking for a direction on exactly what sort of leader and what kind of governement we want running our country," Ygritte starts before asking, "What exactly do you know, Gilly?" The last thing Ygritte wants is to just accidentally regurgitate everything that the other girl already knows.

[gcraster]

you say you want a revolution ; gilly & ygritte | september 14th

It’s been a busy week — the term is just starting to pick up, the bakery is getting far too many wedding cake orders (since when is September a good month to get married? Who came up with this?) and Dieter is going through his terrible twos just a tad bit early. She’s been constantly running from home to work to school and back again — it’s maddening, how busy she is, and how old she feels sometimes, and how little she’s been able to read about what’s happening in the world. She’s missed half of what’s going on in current events (current events? what’re those?) to the point where, unless it’s happened at university or the bakery or Val’s pub or at home, she has no idea anything’s happened at all. 

As she sits on campus, taking a much-needed breather in the last few drops of sunshine for the day (and probably the season, truthfully), she checks her phone, glancing at the news feeds. The world seems to be going to hell rather swiftly, she thinks, and she’s just about to shut it all off and pretend she hadn’t read half of it when she notices a girl handing out pamphlets around campus. She strains from her seat to see what the pamphlets say (a party, maybe? Underground society? Concert?) and it isn’t until a couple walk past her, talking animatedly about what they’re reading, that she’s able to see two words clearly — Mance Rayder. 

Interestingly enough, one of the names she’s seen briefly in her news searches. Hm.

She debates with herself for a moment before deciding, finally, to get up and see for herself just what the fuss is about. Gathering her things, Gilly walks over to the girl, smiling politely.

“D’you work for Mance Rayder?” she asks. Stupid question.

[fire--kiss]

Ygritte measures time by the amount of people that's walked passed her with their head down, or graciously had given her a short and brief wave of disinterest, and the occasional gaze that eyed her from head to breast to toe before walking away. They see her, she knows this - a twenty something woman standing by the sidewalk handing out pamphlets about god knows what (A shop opening? Another concert of some other alternative band?) with her runners and her jeans and her ear pierced and studded. 

They see her. A quick glance before they look away. Avoid her, else she may be another vendor they have no time for. Avoid her again. No eye contact, walk quickly, and - if she's lucky - a patronizing mumbled excuse me. Sorry. They see her but they could barely hear her. A shame, Ygritte thinks, as she tries to hide the irritation with a nearly approachable smile. What will it take for people to notice? 

For a second, she toys with the idea of flashing her tits right there and then as a bold act driven by impatience and aggravation (and perhaps, slight desperation too) until a couple finally stopped to talk to her and she let the fire turn into cool ice. They were followed by another young man, and two girls who were probably only a couple of years younger than herself.

(Good. She can count 'flashing in public' and 'a disturbance of peace' out of her records)

There's a small breeze that rustles the fallen leaves on the ground and Ygritte was about to turn around on her way for a quick break (a cup of coffee, one cigarette) when she hears a voice approach her. It was a small girl - wide eyed and tired. "I do. You can say that," Ygritte replies as brightly as she could. "Call me Ygritte." She offers her hand for a handshake. "Are you interested, by any chance - erm," Ygritte stops and shakes her head. "Sorry, I didn't catch your name." 

[getintherobot]

[fire--kiss]

character info

NAME:  Ygritte Wilde AGE: 25 years old CURRENT  OCCUPATION (IF ANY): Part-time freelance journalist, full time volunteer for Mance Rayder Campaign  PUBLIC ALLEGIANCE: Independent, Mance Rayder PRIVATE ALLEGIANCE (CAN PUT IN CRYPTIC ON PROFILE IF PREFERRED): Mance Rayder, and herself.

Kissed by fire, her mother had once told her, unknotting the tight braids that dug onto her scalp while Ygritte sat quietly in front of the telly, eating what had been the last scraps of yesterday’s dinner. She was five, watching the last dimminishing flames breathed by dragons turn to ash and soot. Kissed by fire in the cold dead of winter. Lucky.

Luck and chance was the way her mother would have described it. Lucky she had food on the table, a roof above her head, a bed, and clothes on her back when other people had much less, and sometimes nothing at all. Lucky she too had a mother, who worked nights and days with two jobs that never paid her enough, to make up for the lack of a father. And lucky she received her GCSEs, her A-levels, and an acceptance to UCL.

Ygritte Wilde thinks it’s a much different story. Life dealt her with a bad hand and she made do. It’s less about luck and more about sheer will and a stubborn determination that got her to where she is. It’s knowing the cold chill of winter on her bones when their small one-bedroom apartment at City and East had no heat. She was a child bred and nurtured from poverty, from hunger, and learnt the meaning of survival and surviving. 

Her politics are simple and loud and it’s fuelled by rage that wrapped itself at the sinews of her bones. So she articulates her anger into words that cannot be dismissed so easily or silenced. The country doesn’t need another Baratheon to warm the seat in Downing Street, a Greyjoy from the sea, or the return of the Targaryens from their exile. Westminster is filled with enough men like them. What it needs, she thinks, is a man like Mance Rayder. 

FUTURE PLANS FOR CHARACTER:

Ygritte is committed to Mance Rayder’s campaign so it’s mostly to start getting attention for the Independent Party i.e. her writing articles about the current political and social atmosphere in England. She’ll interact with other ~wildlings~ and rally support for Mance (and Jon Snow and more NW people) Also, hopefully, if she gets herself in enough trouble, Ygritte may get arrested by the Night’s Watch although that is far more into the future and we’ll burn that bridge once it gets there.

PLAYED BY: Riann Steele