05-23-2015, 04:50 PM
Jon groaned as his restless, laying form shifted slight across the bed. With a heavy sigh, the bastard buried his head deep into the pillows embrace, trying to block out the outside world for just a few sparing moments.
As soon as Jon had arrived to this section of the complex and the elevator doors had slid open, he had been able to work out and find his situated room with ease. He had been greeted to a fairly peace, harmonical and quiet barracks. But now... not so much. As more and more contestants began to pour in, they brought their mindless chatter and blabber with them, and it was keeping Snow from a very much-needed catching-up session on his sleeping timetable. There must have been points where he was able to briefly doze off and salvage some nice shut-eye, but now was not one of those times. He laid wide awake, his eyelids heavy and burdening, feeling ready to snap shut again at any moment.
Jon had now decided his attempts at some decent rest were futile, though; the Primes outside his door would't cease in making a racket even if he asked them too. That, and Jon had yet to catch an eye for the competition, as well. With so much noise only came so many more opponents, and Jon really didn't know what he'd expect to face off against on the field. If he wanted any chance at surviving this ordeal at all, any bright hope or slight glimmer to get out of all this ruckus in one piece, sizing up the masses would be vital.
He steadily rose from his bed, moving right for his rooms door. He made no movement to quickly slip on his signature fur cloak or his black leather gloves; far too warm in here for that. In every verse he'd treaded through thus far, winter had strayed quite far away, he'd noticed.
But it would come again soon enough, as it always does. For himself, and many others.
Winter is coming...
His families words had never felt so true until right now.
As he neared the door to his room, his hand shot out to turn the handle. Apparently, this place wasn't as high-tech as the shining yet strange facilities of Corucsant had been, and the show-runners must have appreciated they'd be getting competitors from all walks and circles of life, and Jon was relieved at such a fact. Despite having spent some time around it all, Jon still wasn't used to all those highly technical mechanisms and flying box-carts.
He emerged from his room, not forgetting the close the door behind him as he skulked out. He was granted no key to lock the door shut, so he just settled on leaving it unlocked and silently prayed nobody would slip in there whilst he was away, though there truly was nothing in there of interest anyway. His weapons had been stripped from his person before coming up here, so his inventory was truly and plainly barren right now.
He took some steps down the hallway. A strange kind of silence had settled in, now, the hints of chatter and idle conversation seeped through the walls and doors around him. Jon payed it little heed as he lowered his head slightly, moving through the hallways with a quick pace.
For a while, Jon just wandered about sort of aimlessly. He had no idea where exactly he was going, and where he'd end up which each twist, turn and corner. The bastard grunted mentally to himself. If there was ever a dire need for basic instructions in a place, it would definitely be for right here. He toiled and skulked around, until finally reaching the doorway of a more open, spacious room. A couple of chairs were set up to the corner of the room, with a small table resting in the centre of them.
Snow leaned in through the doorways arch, only to be met with the face of another competitor. This one looked up slightly with Jon's arrival, almost as if anticipating it.
Jon was uncertain of what to make of this one. His hair shimmered a bright white shade, his skin an earthly oaken tan. His eyes... Jon almost felt as though he was being deceived in some manner, staring into them. The feeling was unexplainable, but Snow foresaw a certain darkness and rage within those eyes, feeling which had long been sealed away and hidden of purposefully. The man sat in a rather relaxed position in one of the chairs, reclining backwards slightly, his arms resting up the two thin wooden slints on either side of him.
Jon's lips curled and twisted slightly as he stood strong and silent, staring at the man with a stoic, stern and guarded look about him. He dared not to speak first, but rather wanted to hear what the man sat in front of him would say next, trying to anticipate his words.
As soon as Jon had arrived to this section of the complex and the elevator doors had slid open, he had been able to work out and find his situated room with ease. He had been greeted to a fairly peace, harmonical and quiet barracks. But now... not so much. As more and more contestants began to pour in, they brought their mindless chatter and blabber with them, and it was keeping Snow from a very much-needed catching-up session on his sleeping timetable. There must have been points where he was able to briefly doze off and salvage some nice shut-eye, but now was not one of those times. He laid wide awake, his eyelids heavy and burdening, feeling ready to snap shut again at any moment.
Jon had now decided his attempts at some decent rest were futile, though; the Primes outside his door would't cease in making a racket even if he asked them too. That, and Jon had yet to catch an eye for the competition, as well. With so much noise only came so many more opponents, and Jon really didn't know what he'd expect to face off against on the field. If he wanted any chance at surviving this ordeal at all, any bright hope or slight glimmer to get out of all this ruckus in one piece, sizing up the masses would be vital.
He steadily rose from his bed, moving right for his rooms door. He made no movement to quickly slip on his signature fur cloak or his black leather gloves; far too warm in here for that. In every verse he'd treaded through thus far, winter had strayed quite far away, he'd noticed.
But it would come again soon enough, as it always does. For himself, and many others.
Winter is coming...
His families words had never felt so true until right now.
As he neared the door to his room, his hand shot out to turn the handle. Apparently, this place wasn't as high-tech as the shining yet strange facilities of Corucsant had been, and the show-runners must have appreciated they'd be getting competitors from all walks and circles of life, and Jon was relieved at such a fact. Despite having spent some time around it all, Jon still wasn't used to all those highly technical mechanisms and flying box-carts.
He emerged from his room, not forgetting the close the door behind him as he skulked out. He was granted no key to lock the door shut, so he just settled on leaving it unlocked and silently prayed nobody would slip in there whilst he was away, though there truly was nothing in there of interest anyway. His weapons had been stripped from his person before coming up here, so his inventory was truly and plainly barren right now.
He took some steps down the hallway. A strange kind of silence had settled in, now, the hints of chatter and idle conversation seeped through the walls and doors around him. Jon payed it little heed as he lowered his head slightly, moving through the hallways with a quick pace.
For a while, Jon just wandered about sort of aimlessly. He had no idea where exactly he was going, and where he'd end up which each twist, turn and corner. The bastard grunted mentally to himself. If there was ever a dire need for basic instructions in a place, it would definitely be for right here. He toiled and skulked around, until finally reaching the doorway of a more open, spacious room. A couple of chairs were set up to the corner of the room, with a small table resting in the centre of them.
Snow leaned in through the doorways arch, only to be met with the face of another competitor. This one looked up slightly with Jon's arrival, almost as if anticipating it.
Jon was uncertain of what to make of this one. His hair shimmered a bright white shade, his skin an earthly oaken tan. His eyes... Jon almost felt as though he was being deceived in some manner, staring into them. The feeling was unexplainable, but Snow foresaw a certain darkness and rage within those eyes, feeling which had long been sealed away and hidden of purposefully. The man sat in a rather relaxed position in one of the chairs, reclining backwards slightly, his arms resting up the two thin wooden slints on either side of him.
Jon's lips curled and twisted slightly as he stood strong and silent, staring at the man with a stoic, stern and guarded look about him. He dared not to speak first, but rather wanted to hear what the man sat in front of him would say next, trying to anticipate his words.
![[Image: tumblr_nzzfidB5IX1tcnpluo4_1280.png]](http://68.media.tumblr.com/bceb0feb3876c0a578aebfda0bc7b306/tumblr_nzzfidB5IX1tcnpluo4_1280.png)