Video; 1-800-MURDERS

[ragnarsson]

[The video starts off with some cheesy infomercial music, the kind usually found on a device that will cut your hair better or replace all your kitchen devices with one. The narrator, one Jamie Dodger, accompanies a series of drawings.]

Has this ever happened to you?

[A piece of paper is held in front of the camera, showing a crude drawing of someone being violently stabbed to death. Or maybe it's a plate of spaghetti; regardless of which of them drew it, the truth is that their art skills are crap.]

Well, with the help of this eight-step training process, it won't have to. [Dodger's voice lacks every ounce of enthusiasm these infomercials are known for, which is probably why his own video back in the day had been text-only.] Just follow your instructor's guidance and one day you could look like this.

[And again, this drawing is either... someone standing over a pile of corpses, or maybe just a sack of potatoes and some of them have faces? Who knows.]

Time to meet your instructor - Phil Swift himself.

[The video pans over to Ivar, who has the usual somewhat grumpy expression on his face. It’s clear he doesn’t really get this whole idea, but he’s been talked into it. He’ll humor everyone...for now.]

Say something.

Like what?

Sell the product. [Dodger turns the music off with a frustrated huff.] We're not shooting another take.

Fine. [Ivar gives the camera only the most dramatic of all eyerolls.] You all are idiots. I don't care if you have powers, powers don't stop a knife stabbed in your throat. I will teach you to stab people before they stab you. [He looks off to the side of the camera.] Was that good?

...Sure.

[There's an awkward pause here as the boys stare each other down with silent and mutual distaste, before Dodger switches the music back on and resumes his narration.]]

With our teachings you'll be able to stab unaware enemies - [Ivar slices his axe across a dummy's back that they had set up] - slice moving targets - [Dodger throws a pillow from off-screen, and Ivar catches it with his axe and slams it down into the floor] - and even counter fireballs, all from the comfort of your broken leg throne.

[There's another long moment of silence, as Ivar slowly looks up with a cold fire in his eyes.]

And now, ladies and gentleman, for the finale, you get to see a live demonstration. [He yanks his axe back out and there’s a psychotic grin on his face.] Start running, Dodger.

[The video concludes with the device that music is coming from knocking over and warping the sound of the tune with an eerie lilt, and cuts out with a flash of sparks and a loud pop as Dodger dodges an incoming throwing axe.]

[OOC: Know that there will be a lot of threadjacking going on in this post. Dodger and he are horrible human beings.]

Comments

[private]

[northerndragon]

No, I think you wouldn't like it if I hurt you. Neither would I.

» private

[jelmazmo]

Do you know how the Unsullied were trained? They were stolen from their mothers; if you ask them, it varies whether or not they can remember their lives before. Their names. The Masters would send them out into the market to slay a newborn babe before the eyes of its mother and then pay her owner with a silver coin for the financial loss of the babe.

And other things, to ensure that each one of them would have no fear.

( The look she gives him is implacable. )

Your training wouldn't involve any of that. And I would defend myself in the wars to come.

[private forever]

[northerndragon]

I'm not saying you're a craven.

[The look on his face indicates that she's wearing him down, though he's not entirely happy about it.]

You can defend yourself best from the back of your dragon: I don't want you fighting on the ground unless there's no other way. And I'm not sure how much of any training here you'll remember, when it's time. But maybe you'll know it in your bones by then.

[A heavy, thoughtful sigh. He can't win without her fighting in the air above him, and he can't guarantee that she'll remain on the dragon's back, though the thought of seeing her disappearing under a swarm of wights makes him sick.]

All right.

[jelmazmo]

I know. I'm reminding you that I am not, nor have I been since I left my brother's care.

( Care. The bitterness in her gaze now has nothing to do with Jon. Though she never once shifts her focus from his eyes. )

So I'd thought, too. Until Viserion was shot from the sky. I'll take no chances now, not with either of our lives. My Hand might well have sent you beyond the Wall to die for all I know anymore. We can't count on him.

( He's not happy, but neither is she. This place is foreign to them both, and she won't risk sending him out into the Unknown with this 'perimeter guard' unless she knows how to defend him should the need ever arise.

The thought of losing him, now, as before, is crushing. )

Only upon each other. Especially here.

[northerndragon]

You don't have to remind me.

[But if Drogon is shot from the sky with her on its back, Jon isn't sure that all the training in the world will help her. Still, some training is better than none, as long as it doesn't make her overconfident.]

All right. I'll teach you.

[jelmazmo]

Good.

( Maybe not, and she's dimly aware of the fact. But after what they all saw up there beyond the Wall, she'll take no chances. )

I trust you to do it right. And with my life.

[northerndragon]

I'll do it right, but with luck, it won't come to that.

[jelmazmo]

I hope it never does. But in any case, I'm loathe to see you wander into the Unknown alone in this place.

( I would know how to hack my way to your side if need be. Though she hopes it never comes to that, either. )

[northerndragon]

[She's afraid for him -- afraid for him as he is for her. He hasn't thought to turn it around like that, but now he remembers how she waited for him at Eastwatch.]

I won't be alone.

[jelmazmo]

But not with me.

( Yes, she's afraid for him. His life is worth more to her now than nearly anything; and that is frightening unto itself. )

[northerndragon]

[As things are now, if he were with her, he'd have to protect her, which would snare his attention. She's brave and fierce but untutored. The truth is that they're both safer if she isn't with him, at least when he's doing anything like he'd done on the harder days in the Watch and she has no dragon under her, but she won't hear it.

He attempts a jest, a flirtation with her.]

No. I think you'd tire of me.

[jelmazmo]

( She can see the deflection for what it is, and becalm herself enough to be rational and table the matter for another time.

It's not every day he flirts with her like this. )

If I've not made it eminently clear that I can't get enough of you, then we'd best go back to bed.

[northerndragon]

[The look on his face is now helplessly fond.

He uses a word that feels strange to him, that he isn't sure is the right one, but it's the best one they have for now.]

Come home.

[jelmazmo]

( That same look is reflected upon her face as she gazes back at him warmly. )

As you wish.

( Pausing, her expression softens. Just for that, she's going to bring food too, so they won't have to get up for some time. )

I won't tarry.

( The camera switches off then, the feed going black. )