exsilium | o1 ✍ sharpe's introduction ✍ voice + video

voice;

Money in cards and saying me rifle’s been changed.

[ Except that’s not actually how he says it, it’s more like: munneh in cards and sayin’ me rifle’s been changed. Sheffield, Yorkshire haunts the streets of Exsilium now, thanks to one Richard Sharpe. ]

The only cards I know of are those given by weasely merchants looking ta fleece more money out of you. But you ain’t asking for money, are you? Yer asking me to fight with me blood and sweat, and you ain’t even decent enough to give me a half-ration of rum, or even a proper King’s shilling.

[ Thud. The sound of rifle on stone ground. There’s a soft shuffling sound and tapping of fingers on the screen of the tablet. The video switches on. ]

video;

Me name’s Richard Sharpe. [ Blond hair, green eyes, a scar on his upper left cheek. His lips are twisted into a scowl, and at the edge of the screen, you can see the edge of his Rifleman’s jacket. Have a picture.

If you met him during the masquerade, he's a lot cleaner now. Face-wise anyway. You can actually see what he looks like underneath the layers of dirt, and his hair isn't just a layer of dust anymore. ]

If yer name's Patrick Harper, I suggest you get yer arse over here before I shoot it off you.

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I'll be there.

[ She closes the feed. ]

[ He doesn't know if the girl will come, but there's no harm waiting. Sharpe sits on the ground, leaning against the wall of the building with his rifle propped against his shoulder and his sword drawn. He's cleaning the latter, looking up periodically to look at the people here. Most of them are human-like, and it seems only the 'Transports' - strange name for a group he's found himself in - are different. ]

[ She arrives quickly, but remains hidden. Watching. Her wolf shadow nuzzles her cheek. The girl smiles faintly. Nymeria has always made her brave. The wolf, easily as tall as a man, pads quietly at her side when she finally approaches. She ignores the pounding of her heartbeat. ]

Old man. [ she says by way of greeting. ]

[ He looks up- and his eyes widen at the huge wolf at her side. She didn't look like an animal tamer to him. But what does he know 'bout such things, especially in an alien place like this? ]

Lass, [ he returns the greeting. ] The wolf ain't part of the fighting, is it?

If she is?

[ Sharpe considers it. ]

S'pose it's only fair. [ Wryly. ] A child and her wolf against a man.

[ It means he's using his pistol, though he's not telling Arya that. ]

I'm woman-grown.

Yer little too small fer that. [ Dry. ] If yer a boy, lass, not even the most crooked recruited would sign you on.

If my old man wasn't dead, I'd be married to someone and popping out sons by now.

[ SHE IS AN ADULT DANGIT B| ]

[ Eyebrow. ]

How old are you, lass? Twelve? Thirteen?

[ She doesn't remember anymore. ]

Thirteen.

[ Go with the bigger of the two. Seems like the smart choice here. ]

[ Slow blinks, and he looks at her, really looks at her. Thirteen and popping out babies? ]

When you from?

[ That seems important. Girls don't marry until they're sixteen or so, and that's early. ]

It's the year 299 after Aegon's Landing.

[ 298 was the last year she was certain of. She figures at least a year has passed since then. Mayhaps two. The Braavosi measured time differently, but she had never paid attention as it had never affected her. ]

[ What. Just... what. ]

I don't know any man named Aegon. [ A little dryly. He rubs the back of his neck. ] What I know is girls like you are no old enough ta be a whore, much less a mother. [ He grins slightly, and stands up. ]

So are you going ta show me how you fight, lass, or will you keep talking me ear off?

You're the one who started asking questions.

[ Wordlessly, she bids the wolf remain behind. Gun or no, she would rather not have to seek help for a man with a limb torn clean off. ]

Aye, I was. [ He watches her action with a raised eyebrow. ]

Isn't the wolf yer weapon, lass?

She's not a weapon. She's my friend. And I'd only let her at you if I wanted you dead. Direwolves can tear a grown man's arm off in a blink.

[ A girl calling a wolf a friend. Now he's seen everything. He swings the rifle up his shoulder and takes the pistol. ]

Faster than a bullet?

A what?

A shot, lass. [ He taps the muzzle of the pistol. ] From this.

What is it?

This a pistol, lass. You've seen a gun before?

No.

[ He slams the hammer back. ] Keep a hand on yer wolf, lass. [ And he aims at her and presses the trigger. A gunshot rings out, white powder scatters around the muzzle, and the shot shoots merrily past the girl's ear. Not nearly close enough to touch, but close enough for her to feel the heat.

The ball lands on the ground. Cracks the pavement. ]

Edited 2012-12-19 04:19 (UTC)

[ Only his lack of intent to harm her saves him, but even so, the wolf charges him. The girl herself had only flinched at the shot. She throws herself in the way; the wolf snaps at her, but she makes it stand down. Furious, she glares at Sharpe. ]

Are you stupid?! You want to die, go hang yourself, but don't go provoking her!

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