agogelogs | [CLOSED: KEBECHET PLAYER PLOT] A thousand armies couldn't keep me out

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[CLOSED: KEBECHET PLAYER PLOT] A thousand armies couldn't keep me out

WHO? Everyone involved in the plot to abduct Kebechet from the Regency villa!
WHAT? All the pertinent information is here.
WHEN? Somewhat after the return from the Eclipse and the discovery of the destruction of the COST villa and Grothia's abduction.
ANYTHING ELSE? Each group should write its own starter, but I've linked the pertinent information for everyone so you're not flying blind.

Those who had been abducted by the Regency in Gallipoli managed to escape, but their experiences -- interrogation, intimate psychological torture, and sleep deprivation among them -- left them hungry for revenge. Their tormentor, Kebechet, also made an appearance on the COST network while they were being held, and her insults, manipulation, and disdain managed to anger even more of COST's operatives.

It's not that there's been an uneasy peace since both the Regency and COST have been working on their objectives in Jhashch; it's more that hostilities have mostly stayed at a relatively low buzz, played out in the arenas, or the deaths of the Aranean noble family most sympathetic to COST's cause. But a few things have changed that. A COST operative, Hei, learned that Kebechet has been present on Jhashch, disguised as the meek little shabti secretary who follows Mhic Nathair around (in reality, Kebechet's rank is much higher than that of the woman she pretends is her boss). He wasted no time in passing this information on to one of the abductees, Daenerys Targaryen, the sort of woman who's full of kindness until you give her good cause to turn you and everything around you to ashes.

Much like the Regency just did to COST's villa, and to their Commander, Grothia -- a real shabti herself, escaped from her creators, helping to lead the fight against them, not someone merely acting the role of one of the Regency's clone-slaves.

Using the BCE¹, Daenerys and several of her friends and fellow abductees recruited willing and able help from among other COST members, until they arrived at a plan. Breaking into several teams, they would create a significant distraction near the Regency compound, sneak in, drug and abduct Kebechet... and use PASIV technology to try to get into her head.

After that... well, before Grothia's abduction, when Daenerys approached Grothia for permission for the operation, Grothia had strongly implied that it could only end in Kebechet's death. And Mordred is involved, which makes the chances that Kebechet will walk away at the end almost infinitesimal.

¹ Handwaved.

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[ Her lips twitch, the hint of a smile. ]

I suppose I've enough for us both.

[ She's seen enough death to know she wants no more of it. But Kebechet is here, and she must die. With a quiet exhale, she leans back just enough to catch his gaze. ]

You'll learn.

[He leans his forehead down to hers, heedless of the rest of the people in the room.]

Might be that I will, if I have you to teach me.

Edited 2018-07-06 01:46 (UTC)

[ Her eyes drift shut, and she leans into him, her fingers just grazing the ends of his loose curls. ]

You certainly will, then.

Would that I could, I'd have made you my totem.

Your totem? I don't understand.

[To any outside observer, they're just standing there wrapped up in each other. He puts the palms of his hands on either side of her jaw.]

Edited 2018-07-07 01:51 (UTC)

[ To any outsider, it's likely the most affectionate either have ever been publicly. Dangerous to be doing this here and now. So very, very dangerous, and yet she can't stop herself from soaking up his attentions like a flower showered in sunlight. ]

When you enter the dreams, it's easy to mistake them for reality if the architect is convincing enough. The totems are meant to remind you which realm is real versus the dream.

Are you saying you don't dream about me?

[His expression is as wry as it might be, under the circumstances.]

A way to anchor you to what's real and true.

[ Her look suggests any dreams she has of him are far more pleasant. Even so, she lightly grips one of his wrists, pulling his hand from her cheek so she can press a kiss to his palm. ]

If you forget, you can become lost in those dreams.

I prefer the real you over my dreams of you.

[She knows of some of his dreams... the Wall, the rising Dead, the Night King... but not all of them, not of the burning castles, or of all the things he knows that Ghost knows.]

There was a time when I had good dreams of you. And bad ones, where someone shot an arrow at you and you fell from the sky. Why didn't you use me? You wouldn't have known what was real?

I fell from the sky? Was I riding Drogon?

[ One more kiss, and then she pulls back, aware that this is not an appropriate place for overt affection. ]

It has to be a personal affect. Something only you are familiar with, so that if someone infiltrates your dreams, they cannot replicate it.

You hadn't sprouted wings. Yes, you were on Drogon. Sometimes I dream that the whole world is on fire. Sometimes I dream that it's frozen. And if that's the way of the totems, then I would have been a poor one.

Edited 2018-07-07 22:37 (UTC)

Did Tyrion see fit to make mention of me being struck? Is this why you've dreamt of it?

Do you dream these other things often?

No one can replicate you. They would be the poor ones.

[Before he answers her, her sweet words nearly make him blush. The look he gives her is complicated, abashed.]

Not just him. Mormont, some of the others. It's the fear everyone has. I dream all sorts of things, Dany. About myself, my home, my family, our world, the Army of the Dead. And lately, you.

[ The look she gives him is smug, satisfied. ]

I see. I've flown into battle countless times atop Drogon's back, and not once have I been struck by an errant arrow. Drogon has protected me. He will continue to protect me.

I'd rather not dream at all, if all of mine were about death and the world in flames.

What do you dream about? Other than you, I don't dream of anything else.

I don't always dream.

[ Back to curling her fingers with his. Keeping him closer. ]

I dream of you, and what life might've been like. Sometimes there are hatchlings, sometimes there are children. I dream of flying, with my own wings, or on Drogon's back. I dream of my mother and brother, as well.

I've always wondered about my mother, what she might have looked like or been like, and wished she was a kind lady, gently born. I knew that she was, when I was a boy. Now I have to admit that I know that she probably wasn't. But yours must have been much like you.

[Dany's parents had been brother and sister; it may be uncomfortable, but it's the truth.]

She might still be. Westerosi beliefs and customs are far different from many others across the sea, and even in Dorne, I've heard.

[ At the very least, the idea of a bastard is different. ]

She might've been, but I can't imagine my mother tolerating my father's cruelties if that were the case. I wouldn't have.

Dorne? No, I think she must have been a serving girl or a girl in a tavern somewhere. There has to be a reason my father wouldn't speak of her. The last time I saw him, he told me we'd talk about her the next time we met. Then he was killed. What should she have done? I don't know much, but why did no one ever seem to raise a finger to stop him?

Did he love his wife? Even so, I imagine it's not uncommon for me off at war to find a lover. Perhaps she is of noble birth, or perhaps she's a serving girl. Whoever she is, she must've been extraordinary.

I don't know. No one's told me. Because he was king? Hardly a reason to tolerate a mad man, let alone serve one.

They had just been married. She was meant to marry his brother. My father was never supposed to be the Lord.

[And they both know what had become of his uncle.]

Maybe no one knows what to do when the king is mad, or bad, or cruel. They say the throne took care of the cruel king itself. I don't know what there is to be done when the queen blows up the Great Sept, except that it's only one reason why she can't stay on the throne.

You can learn to love someone.

[ Still, the lack of one's ability to choose for him or herself... she's little love for Jon's father, seeing as he was the Usurper's best friend, but she can understand that. Were her family still alive, she'd have likely married her brother's son. Because they weren't, she'd married Drogo. ]

The games these houses play are what 'took care' of cruel kings. But a queen who destroys in a fit of vengeance? And in reaction to something she herself invited? It's continued because none know what to do.

That will change.

Edited 2018-07-08 21:29 (UTC)

You shouldn't have to. And I was never sure that my father's wife loved anything but her children. I wasn't one of them.

[But before he met her, hadn't he already been aware that he could plant the seeds of that sort of resignation? If he survived the war, a king should marry. And he should marry wisely. And despite the prejudices of the Northern lords, he doesn't think he could have chosen any more wisely than he has.]

It will change. But I was speaking of cruel kings, not mad ones. The Conqueror's cruel son.

[Maegor, he means, Visenya's son who built the Red Keep.

All those Targaryen kings of old whose deeds were taught to him by Maester Luwin... he never really thought he'd need the knowledge this intimately. What bastard boy of the North would ever think he was going to grow to meet, let alone love, the last Targaryen princess?]

Edited 2018-07-08 22:05 (UTC)

Sometimes, one must. She might've loved her husband, one day. Likely not so soon if she'd learnt of you and your mother.

[ But she doesn't say this to dredge up bad memories. Alas, she's unaware of his own thoughts in this moment, but they echo her own about duty and marriage--not that it would prove to be a fruitful thing with someone she didn't love, seeing as she couldn't have children.

With Jon, she hopes just that much more. ]

And I mean the stag's purported child king. You met him?

[ Her look holds a hint of appreciation for his knowledge of her family's history. What princess would ever expect a boy of the North to care of her family's people and their legacy the way she did? ]

[He only nods at the first thing, but at the second, his face takes on a dark, loathing cast.]

I met him. I didn't like him, but I never knew he would kill my father. All our fathers, killed by the lions.

[ Upon the manifestation of that look, she steps closer, back into his space. It's not to shush the look away, for it's a familiar anger in the pit of her belly as well. ]

The lions will be met with fire and blood, my love.

[ Doesn't matter that she thinks it's perhaps best her father was killed by one of the lions. ]

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cw probably groce couple stuff, ew: feelings, jon snow's sad existence, etc.

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cw for Game of Thrones stuff (this time it's not a joke!)

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