tosses a little cloth ball at the little sister's head and hides back behind the big oak tree at the yard.
RANDOM JON / ARYA MOMENTS. | ALWAYS ACCEPTING. // @killthebxy
it takes her OFF GUARD, old gods be damned–! for the moment the sound of scuttling BOOTS over frozen earth dusted with a light blanket of summer snow could be heard, the young pup turns ; only to be clipped in the shoulder by her assailant’s dirt-painted projectile from across the courtyard. ( && perhaps it be unfortunate for he and her alike, for the STREAK of dark locks unveils his identity at once–! ) … steps as quiet as a ghost, && a single, dark brow arches as she reclaims the little ball from it’s place at her feet and tip-toe-tip-toe-tip-toes closer.. and closer… and closer until she may LAUNCH HERSELF BEHIND THE TREE, and THROW her weight at the figure hidden in the great oak’s shadow–! she discovers there what she had expected, && though even her most furious tackle may barely bring the bastard to budge, she does her best in colliding body-to-body in an attempt to bring him down.
❛ SEPTA MORDANE WILL BE furious with me for RUINING my new dress ‘nd it’s all your FAULT, you stupid–! ❜ she cries out, little fingers gathering up a fistful of dried leaves from the earth – only to cast them upon his head.
❛ YOU DID ALL THAT WITH ONLY ONE ARROW? you must have wanted to learn very badly! ❜ she points out, though there is nothing but admiration in her voice. ❛ i think Needle suits you perfectly. ❜ people might dismiss it because it was small and skinny, but the sword is still powerful. just like arya. like wendy hoped she might become.
darling girl adjusts her grip. the weight of the sword is still noticeable, but not too heavy. she’s gotten stronger. she obediently turns as directed. ❛ like this? ❜
be it a SHY smile, sheepish grin ‘pon the maw of a pup ( && HARDLY a lamb ) she offers the other girl a nod of her head before allowing needle to be unsheathed from it’s docile place at her back ; steel glinting beneath the daylight as she takes stance -- if only to make it EASIER for wendy to replicate it. .. but she shan’t STRIKE yet,
❛ IT WAS AGAINST THE RULES, my father always thought ladies ought to use sewing needles instead of swords or arrows -- my sister, too, and my mother.. but that’s not me. ❜ i’m no lady, she thinks, i’m a wolf.
a single step BACK is taken, && with a sweeping glance, arya will offer an amiable smile. ❛ yeah, just like that. it’ll feel natural after a while, for true. ❜
“AYE, if I desire I shall get sick of it! You are not m’wife to tell me how to eat my damn bread” he mutters and starts to throw a piece in the fire before he continues eating. Gendry just wants to stubbornly stand up to his opinion for once, to prove Arya her big eyes do not always work on him even they really do most of the time. She just as that skill to make all the men feel guilty if she just looks long enough at them like that…
&& DAMNED BE whatever woman he may choose in the future -- stupid, bullheaded boy--! he would drive any woman to MADNESS, she was sure of it ; old gods know, he was half way there with her ( if not already successful innit. )
but the eyes were hurt, if not for a flicker of irritation that burned hot as embers from somewhere within. && she nearly has the mind to throw her OWN bread at him too. she may have, had her stomach not felt such like an empty, growling pit... ❛ BE STUBBORN AND SICK, then, ‘nd hungry too. ‘nd next time you make ‘at bulls-head helmet’a yours, FORGE IT to your head forever. ❜ she mumbled over the crackling of flames.
also. i just want to throw out a small psa : do not shame people that aren’t talking about it. do not make someone feel guilty for continuing about their blogging and roleplaying as if nothing has happened. you don’t know their story. this could be extremely triggering for them. this could bring back some really ugly feelings and they are doing what they can to look after themselves. some people cope by just losing themselves in tumblr. do not take that away from them.
@ everyone who can be triggered with what’s going on — there’s an extention on xkit titled POSTBLOCK. downloading it will let you BLOCK posts, including reblogs. if you block everything to do with ol/lie and sar/ah, then they wont make an appearance on your dashboard again. PLEASE BE SAFE! your health matters.
My characterization is MINE and MINE alone. This is who I see my character as being. I created these headcanons and I saw different things in my muse than other people who play the same muse so please —
Left orphaned after her father, mother and two brothers are brutally murdered, Arya and her surviving siblings are left to scatter. Disappearing into the underbelly of London, she discards her identity and takes on a new name ; stealing a new one in order to sneak herself onto a plane to America where she is taken in under witness protection and given a new life. Hawkins, Indiana is where Arry Jones is placed under the roof of a new foster home -- a new family, a new education, a new life, but something about this place just isn’t right.
It starts as dreams, ones that leave her in the forest of another world.. a darker world, void of light and with dust in the air && the reek of death in the air. Only, she’s not herself, and though she sees a girl there: running, running, running, she can’t seem to reach her -- something is off.
Who is she? What is she running from? Is she running.. from me?
IDEAS FOR INTERACTION:
Your character is a student at Hawkins Middle School and meets Arya in class, or during recreational periods.
Your character lives in Hawkins, and they interact in the public.
Your character catches Arya in the middle of a fit ( warging into the upside down. )
Your character is a school bully and is confronted by Arya in defense of a weaker person.
Vise versa, your character has been bullied and Arya confronts and or violently defends you from the school antagonist.
and so on !!
( tag -- #▐ ⦙ ❛ ᴛʜᴇ ғʟᴇᴀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴄʀᴏʙᴀᴛ. ❪ stranger things verse. ❫ )
@zokliitsos / GENDRY had been serious when he told Arya to leave him alone, he would not talk to her. And he will not. Sometimes, she might not notice, but she does hurt him quite a lot with her behavior. His blue eyes meet with her pair of grey for a moment, before he simply continues to rip the bread very violently into pieces and eats it more because he needs something to do than for being hungry.
OLDS GODS AND NEW, she can feel his eyes upon her ; && may her gaze flicker only once if only to watch as his is averted. tension be ‘pon the air like thick winter snows, burrowing, burrowing, BURROWING INTO THE BALL OF HER NECK and all at once she can’t stand to look at him any longer--! .. instead, she focuses on her own, stupid little scrap of bread
( though not for long, for irritation p r i c k l e s a warmth onto her ears and forces her again to turn to him: )
❛ I SAID I WAS SORRY, didn’t i--? i didn’t MEAN IT, w'ot i said before ; ‘nd if you keep eating your bread that fast you’re gonna make yourself sick. ❜
❝Yeah,❞ he mumbled in agreement against a hand that was scrubbing at his jaw, covering his mouth. He was AGITATED, not sure what he should be doing next to restore his faith in the island, or maybe have the island restore it’s faith in him. He looked up at her when she spoke again with desperate eyes.❝What can you do?❞ He asked her in a hopeful voice.
❛ I HEAR HIM SOMETIMES, .. JACOB. jus’ like you, i guess, and ben -- or so he says. ❜ a CONFESSION, && perhaps the weight within the bottom of her throat dragging her voice down may have been GUILT. a single step forth, && the child settles herself down into the foliage across from him ; dark brows pulling in close.
❛ maybe if .. he ain’t talking to YOU, he’ll talk to me. .. or something. ❜
spock examines her lightsaber, turning the small, compact hilt over in his hands. 'fascinating. would you say this is indicatory of a conventional weapon in your galaxy?'
A VULCAN APPEARS IN ARYA’S INBOX. | ALWAYS ACCEPTING. // @zherka
&& grey pools shall EYE him ; taking care in noting unfamiliar features before her gaze shall drift to the weapon’s glinting hilt within pale hands to assure he hasn’t TOYED with it ( or broken it. ) though she can’t help but narrow the eyes at his words, she k n o w s what they mean – well, most of them. any anxiety is made clear by FIDGETING HANDS, or the occasional chewing ‘pon her fleshy bottom lip.
❛ NO, I MEAN.. WELL, THEY used t’be.. but they’re NOT anymore. jedis used ‘em, my family were jedis. … they’re DEAD NOW, most of them.. this one is mine, though, my brother gave it to me. ❜
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