farsickness | (no subject)

WHO: Jon Snow
WHEN: The first few days of the month
WHAT: Arrival and settling in
WHERE: Around Gazin
WARNINGS: Just blood for now but it's Game of Thrones, who knows what might come up

[Arrival]

This wasn't exactly what Jon had meant when he wished that he could be somewhere else -- he hadn't enjoyed being in the middle of a battle against a seemingly endless army of the dead, but he knew that he had to be. All of Westeros was depending on the outcome.

It had been a throwaway thought in the face of impossible odds, and then here he was, staring at a sign labeled "Gazin." He has never heard of such a place, but then, he's never been outside of Westeros. There must be a lot of places he's never heard of.

What a sight he must make -- sword drawn, his face and armor covered in dirt and sweat and even some blood. His immediate vicinity is deserted. There's no one to give him any answers, or any other indication of where he is or how he got here. There's only one thing for it. He sheathes his sword and heads in the direction indicated by the sign, in search of someone who can provide some answers. Or a stream to wash off the grime. He's not picky.

[Around town]

He's been here long enough to have discovered that in many ways, this place is similar to Westeros. Similar enough that it hadn't taken him long to get used to the place, anyway. He has also discovered that living as far North as he did in Westeros, he had missed out on things, like markets and taverns. Even the life he would have had without Robert Baratheon's meddling wouldn't have been of those sorts of things -- it would have been sheltered for different reasons. But here, freed from all of that, he can live the life he truly wants to live. Whatever that life is.

Right now he's enjoying that freedom and lack of responsibility by wandering through the town, going wherever his feet take him, before ending up in the tavern at the end of the day with a pint of mead. He's not relaxed enough however to go around unarmed; he's got a sword at his hip and a knife tucked into his belt.

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The blood catches her attention, as does the armor made it look like he had definitely through hell and back. When she sees him, Caitlin holds her hands up and carefully approaches him.

"I can clean up your wounds for you if you want. Make sure that they don't get infected."

Clean. Clean sounds good. A bath is one of the things he'd come in this direction with the hope of finding. He hadn't planned on having help getting that way though.

"Most of this isn't mine." From what he can tell, most of his injuries are bumps and bruises, but there is always the possibility that he's wrong about that. Everything hurts, so it's hard to tell. "Are you a healer?"

Healer. The word threw Caitlin off for a second before she nods, offering her hands out to him. From how he's dressed and the term he used, she shouldn't be too surprised that he called her such. She had seen an apothecary around the town somewhere.

"Dr. Caitlin Snow. Doctors are healers where I'm from."

"Maesters do the healing where I'm from. They're all men." So it's definitely a different place than what she's used to. "I don't think I need any healing, but I will come and find you if I do."

She takes her hands back and looks him over again.

"Then whose blood is all of that?" she asks, her gaze flicks back in the direction he just came. The same direction she came from and she's willing to bet the others that did not belong here also came from.

"...it's from your own Earth," she says to herself. Then corrects, flicking her attention back to him, "your world. Your...kingdom?"

"Yes," he agrees, "although it won't be anyone's kingdom if we don't defeat the army that's invading it." Which is what he had been attempting to do before arriving here. Not by himself, of course; that would have been impossible.

"I've got some bumps and bruises, but I think that's all at the moment."

"An invading army?"

Caitlin took a mental note at that, maybe...there had to be something that brought them here.

"What was the very last thing that happened before you came here?" she asked.

"An army that no one believed existed." The watchers on the Wall had been watching the wrong thing. Although after more than a thousand years, who could expect things not to get a little muddled up?

"Battle. It was hard to tell one thing from another."

Battle. She had just finished a battle.

"And you were suddenly here? Or rather, over there where the crossroads were?"

"Yes. With no indication of how I had gotten there." That kind of travel is not possible in Westeros, even to those very few who can use magic or something like it.