solstice

[evil_isevil]

WHO: Geralt, Ubbe and Arya; OTA
WHEN: December 21st - January 10th
WHAT: Winter Festival stuff
WHERE: Gazin and surrounding areas
WARNINGS: Nudity to start, but will update
Note: Starters for each character in the comment section

Comments

WELP here we go.

[ylgr]

Arya's not the only Stark at the tavern, as it turns out. Lyanna likes it there, especially on the nights of the feasts. It’s fun. Reminds her a little of home. And it is NICE, to not be beholden to anyone – Ned’s there, but he’s always been the most... understanding, out of her brothers. The one least likely to try and control her. Or judge her. (Having Ned here with her is... something she could never put into words how thankful she is for it.)

She’s spending her night nibbling at a plate of food. In between flirting and challenging people to drinking contests. Usually people who are bigger and broader than she is. It’s more fun that way. Her pouch of gold is far weightier than it was before the night had started.

And speaking of winnings...

She finishes her drink and sets it down with a laugh. “Keep going?” she asks the large bearded fellow sitting across from her, her voice carrying the familiar sound of a Stark accent. He chuckles and pushes his mug away.

“Hell no,” he retorts, getting unsteadily up from the table. “You drink like a fish! Here’s yer damn gold.” And he tosses a pouch at her.

She grins, cheekily and scoops it up. Before scooping up his mug and taking a drink. “It’s been a pleasure.”

He mutters under his breath and staggers away.

[iknowdeath]

Arya was hungry and after hearing one of the locals talk about the feast starting at the inn, that was where she heads next. Upon arriving, she grabs a table off in the corner, tucked away enough so anyone coming in would have to walk around a partition to see her, but left her a vantage point to see most of the establishment and the people within it.

It was the accent that first catches Arya's attention; the tone of her voice and cadence of other woman's words are so distinctive. Enough that there is no time sparred in scanning the crowd of people. However, when she does spot her, Arya can't help but feel that there is something familiar about her, even knowing she has never set eyes on her before. Still, her gaze locks and remains fixed, knowing full well it was only a matter of time before getting caught. Only before that happens, the youngest daughter of Ned Stark finds herself calling across a bunch of rowdy patrons, hoping to get the woman's attention.

"I have 5 silver that says I can beat you next," Arya says with a confidant smile.

[ylgr]

Lyanna turns to look at whoever it was that spoke, to follow the voice to its source, and when she does... she’s struck, somehow. At the young woman’s... familiarity. Much as she had been with Jon, she’s almost certain that she’s gazing at another Stark. Another of Brandon’s bastards, maybe? Her brother had never had any problem pursuing those he wanted to bed, after all. Not nearly as bad as Robert. But bad enough.

She grins. “Challenge accepted.” Gesturing to the chair that had just been vacated by her previous opponent, she adds “Take a seat.”