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Ygritte

Discussion in 'Registration' started by Ygritte, Dec 8, 2018 at 10:19 PM.

  1. Ygritte

    Ygritte Visitor

    Posts:
    1
    Ygritte
    "And if we die, we die. But first we live."

    [​IMG]
    Played by Noel

    Fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire (GoT TV adaptation)
    Age: 20
    Species: Human
    Gender: Female
    Canon Point: Just as she is shot through with an arrow in S4E9. Her most recent memories will be of her previous life in Pandora, however.
    NPC Companions: N/A

    SKILLS & ABILITIES


    Special AbilitiesARCHERY: Ygritte has proven herself deadly with a bow, and it is her preferred weapon in combat. She is precise, even from great distances and with moving targets. Unless you ask Jon Snow, but we all know how much he knows.

    She can also use other tools in combat such as knives and spears, but is unfamiliar with more advanced weapons even such as swords, with which she is clumsy.

    SURVIVAL: Growing up north of the Wall made survival necessary before all else. The temperatures were nearly always below freezing, and would plummet during nights. The Freefolk lived primitive lives and hunted for their food, while having to defend themselves from enemy groups or wild beasts, of which there were many. From this lifestyle, Ygritte is a hardened survivalist. She requires very little to live off of, and can take care of herself even in wild or uninhabited areas.

    EquipmentYgritte has on her person a short bow made of carved horns, and a quiver of arrows that she crafted from wood and feathers. She also has a small dagger, hand crafted, tucked into her furs.

    WEAKNESSES

    Ygritte is as human as they come, and has all the normal vulnerabilities & mortality. Another weakness is the primitive lifestyle from which she comes; while it has given her a unique skillset, she will be utterly disoriented by all of the new technologies, amount of people, and buildings in Pandora.


    FREEFORM

    The arrow sings through the wind and I know I'm going to die. Die because I love him. I love a kneeler, a crow, so much so that the only words I've been able to get out about him until just this moment are how I'm gonna kill him, flay him, stick him with a million arrows. All by meself, I was, and for a while I really believed I might. Tonight I saw him on the battlefield and had the chance to prove it. I had the arrow notched and the string pulled and I knew if I let it fly it would hit him in that damned pretty eye of his. He had the nerve to fuckin' smile.

    And I forgot. Forget war and killing, just for a second. I hesitated, and I'm gonna die for it; I feel the metal pierce my skin. But I think that'll be alright. If I'm dead I don't have to kill him first.

    I can't even fall, that's how quick it comes. Black.

    What's funny is remembering why I've gotten to live even this long. When we met, Jon Snow was holding a sword to me throat; a sword that he couldn't swing because he'd never killed a woman before. Never done much with one, the baby crow. His mercy, if that's what you'd call it, spared my life. And I suppose I let what I felt for him take it back.

    I don't like rules, but I gave Jon Snow one. Don't ever betray me. As though it would stop what we both knew was coming, that I was on one side of a fight and he on the other. It still surprised me when he did it, though. It still hurt worse than your body parts when they're so cold they've gone past numb. It sure didn't stop me from wanting to put an arrow through his heart, or keep my promise to cut his cock off and wear it around me neck.

    And still my favorite memory, the one I'm holding onto before it all fades away, is climbing that great wall of ice and reaching the top. We stood side by side on it and looked over at the world from the top of it. The north on one side: my north, the true north, blurred with whites and blues and skies that somehow looked cold. Wild. The other side was his world, all golden and fading to green in the distance, a world tamed but not less beautiful to look on, not from there. I kissed him there on that wall, between the different worlds we would have to return to, and it was the freest I've ever felt.

    At least I'm dying free. That's the proudest thing I've got and I thank the gods for it everyday, that I'm of the freefolk and that I know the pain of frostbite and nights when you don't think it could ever be any colder. That I know the sting of knives and animal teeth and what it's like to be hungry-- not it's been hours but it's been dayssince I've eaten, hungry. That I wasn't born some noble lady with a long name in a castle full of slaves, and being a slave meself to fat old men I'll never meet.

    Except I was wrong. I'm not free, this isn't death. I'm trapped. The black has something to it-- there's something pulling, and it's becoming brighter. And the pain... I thought it would leave me but I can feel my blood spilled where the arrow's lodged. The ground is hard and the air is so thick and hot I can barely breathe. I open my eyes and there's people. They're so close, it's so loud, and I can only see more walls, stretching towards the sky, one after the other after the other.

     
    Idris, Thalia and Keira like this.