(Untitled)

[thegooddrjones]

Who: Martha Snape-Jones and you.
Where: All over Paris, with some suggestions/closed threads tossed in.
When: All weekend
Warnings: Probably not.
Notes: Old and new CR welcome! New CR makes me happy!

Comments

Saturday during the day-Ayra

[thegooddrjones]

Wandering around Paris, finding Ayra someway.

[dont_tell_sansa]

Arya was having fun. Everything about this land was new and bright and confusing, but Arya was just more determined to learn everything about it. When she'd observed enough to copy, she went walking down the sidewalks, mimicking walks and gaits, and eventually, pausing in front of a big store window. They sold dresses, and their front window was shiny enough for Arya to see herself. Her hair was a mess of knots and mats, and she tried tugging her fingers through them for a moment. When she felt strands start to rip from her scalp, she gave up, and tried to rub the smudge from her cheek.

Stupid dresses. They were strange, but kind of pretty. The kind Sansa would have made, if she lived here. The kind her lady mother would wear. But not her - she hated dresses, and given the way the woman inside was watching her through the window, Arya didn't think she'd even be allowed in.

"Stupid."

[thegooddrjones]

Martha blinked a bit when she saw the girl who was standing in front of the mirror. She'd been about to give her a few euros to go find a hot meal when she heard the muttered 'stupid' in a familiar tone of voice.

Frowning, Martha paused and she turned to look at the girl. "Cat?" She asked, and then she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small bag as she looked to the girl. Martha's arm shouldn't have been able to go into the bag past her elbow, but it did. When she removed her hand, she had a package of wipes and opened it, holding them out to the girl.

"Who's your warden?" There was no recrimination; only concern for the girl who'd someone left running a muck Paris alone for two days.

[dont_tell_sansa]

Arya turned when Martha spoke, and she didn't let her mouth twitch up into a smile, though it wanted to. I'm no one. Her eyes widened when Martha reached into her bag, boggling at the way her arm disappeared. "How did--" She paused to take the package, turning it over in her hand until she worked out how to open it. Even then, she didn't know what she was holding.

"Naoto, but she left." But that was not important. "How did you do that?"

[thegooddrjones]

"They're wipes. They'll get the dirt off your face." Martha took one from the package and then she wiped some of the dirt off Cat's face. Naoto. Martha felt like she should have noticed that before, or offered to be an interim warden for someone who didn't have one.

As for the important question at hand, Martha smiled for a moment. "Magic."

[dont_tell_sansa]

Arya's nostrils flared when Martha pulled out the wipe, and after the first pass over her face, she twitched backwards. "It smells," she said, reaching up to rub her cheeky. Her hand wasn't exactly the cleanest thing, either. "And it tingles. What's on it?" but she was much more interested in the purse, and leaned around to look at it. "Can you do it again?"

[thegooddrjones]

Martha frowned at the twitch, but she didn't chase Ayra's face to wash it any further. "It's got a bit of rubbing alcohol in it. To help with the cleaning. I use them all the time, I promise it won't do you any harm." A part of her wanted to go through and tame Ayra's tangles as well.

Martha held out the purse, and covered the view with her arm. "You can try if you like."

[dont_tell_sansa]

"I thought I was too young for alcohol," she said, eying the wipe. Warily, she reached out for it, running it over her hands curiously. But that was abandoned when the purse came out, and she tried to peer around Martha's arm. "I can?"

[thegooddrjones]

"Too young to drink it, but not too young to use it." Martha shrugged. "You shouldn't drink rubbing alcohol no matter what age you are. It's awful for you." But then Martha focused on Ayra's attention on the bag.. "Yep, but do it quickly so that normal people don't see."

[dont_tell_sansa]

Arya looked around to make sure no one was staring, then leaned forward to shove her hand into the bag. She kept shoving, and before she realized it, half her arm was inside the back. She yanked it back out again, and ducked down to check that the bag really was as small as it looked. "Can I buy one like that?"

[thegooddrjones]

"No, I'm afraid not. This one was made for me, but maybe I'll ask if he can make one for you as well." Martha smiled and then she looked around again. "Alright, Cat, have you got a place to stay? If not we're going to find you a place to stay and something to eat." And a bath. Definitely a bath.

[dont_tell_sansa]

"Who made it?" She managed to squeeze the question out before Martha's, and frowned - only so rub at her cheeks. She was calm as still water, still as stone, and her face didn't control her. "No. Not yet. But there are lots of places to set up a camp." Totally normal. And no baths in camp, baths are stupid.

[thegooddrjones]

"My husband Sev. He can do magic you see." Martha frowned in response to the statement about making camp. "No, Cat, love, you don't need to make a camp. We can get you a room to stay in, so you don't have to forage around. We can even go shopping if you like and pick up some things for you to take back. Is there anything you want or need?"

[dont_tell_sansa]

That was right: Martha was married. It was strange to think about; all the married ladies Arya had known had been...lady like. They didn't wear boys clothes or act like her. They acted like Sansa, always keeping their courtesies.

Martha wasn't like that.

"You mean at an inn? I don't have any gold." And inns can be dangerous. Hotpie had left her at an inn, and she'd killed the Tickler and Polliver at another.

But what did she want? What did she need? "A needle."

[thegooddrjones]

"Yeah, at an inn. Like a hotel,really. I've got room and we'll get you a room there as well, so at least you'll know someone nearby." Martha didn't want to tie Ayra too her, which was why she wasn't offering the additional bedroom in her suite. It wouldn't be fair to the girl when Martha wasn't a warden. However she could give the girl money.

"A needle?" Martha blinked, and then she raised a brow. "A needle? Why? You don't seem the sort to sew, Cat." The only reason Martha could was so that she could do stitches.

"I'll give you some money, don't worry about that. A room, dinner and a money."

[dont_tell_sansa]

She had no idea what a hotel was, but she assumed she'd find out if Martha made her go. Made her - did she really need to be forced to stay at an inn? It might even be safer than sleeping out in the open, if she could lock her door. Maybe she would go. And I could leave, if I have to.

"It's a different sort of needlework," she said with a shrug. If Martha would just give her the gold, and let her go, she could find her own sword. She'd pretend to be a boy again, and tell the armorer she was a page fetching for her master.