i like to be called: Whatevs you want to call me

my favourite colour is:  I really like blues and greens but also purples and sometimes yellows but also sometimes black

gender: female

one thing you should know about me: I’m a very slow writer. Like so slow. M’bad

one thing you should know about my muse: Pod’s v protective over the people who have shown him kindness. (Lookin @ you Tyrion and Brienne)

first language: English

second language: I took high school French for four years and can ask where the bathroom is basically?

HIGHLIGHT:

age range: under 13 | 14–17 | 18–22 | 23–25 | 26–29 | 30+ | 70+

am i okay with nsfw?: yes | no | sometimes | but not for this muse (...at least NOT YET... jk)

my favourite/most common thing to rp is: angst | fluff | smut | crack | action | other | idk

oc friendly?: yes | no | depends

rp blog: does | doesn’t | contain ooc posts

ALSO let me just say... BDE. 

Podrick paused to give Sansa a side-long glance before shrugging, uncertain. Chemistry was not his strong suit by any means, despite any proficiency his lab partner might possess. “ I guess it’s my own intellect I’m not so sure of, ” he quickly amended, offering a sheepish smile. Adjusting his safety goggles back into place, Podrick cleared his throat as he glanced back down at the lab instructions on the dark grey table in front of them. As she added the impure solid to the water ( the solvent, he thought. Podrick glanced down at the manual again to double check this ). “ I’ll try not to, ” he added, pulling a hand further from the flask and bunsen burner, as though the material might suddenly spill onto the countertop in front of them. “ I guess now we just WAIT for that to dissolve? ” Reaching forward, he gingerly adjusted the thermometer, turning it to face the two of them.

The clash of SWORDS and grunts from those practicing in the field around them filled the air as it had nearly all day since daybreak. It was certainly COLD there, although at least not currently snowing for the first day in the past several. Sparring had kept Podrick warm, especially against Lady Brienne, whom he was still unable to best despite his full effort. Now that he had stopped to rest for several moments, however, it was hard to again ignore the temperature, worsened by the intermittent gusts of wind that seemed to bite his fingers and the tip of his nose worst of all. Rubbing his hands together, he looked anxiously back towards Brienne, unsure if it would truly be right to take a rest when she herself would not. 

She had even stated that she did not think him any LESSOR for wanting to quit, but at this Podrick shook his head, steeling his decision. Reaching to grab the waterskin from the ground near their feet he took a swig before holding it up to offer her some, as well. 

 “ No, if… If YOU can stay, I should stay. I’ll need the practice, my Lady. ”

His hands were shaking, Podrick noted somewhat numbly as he stared down at the cold stone of the floor. He’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time, or so it had seemed. Almost unseeing, he unsteadily pushed himself up to his feet. He nearly fell, soles of his shoes slipping against the smooth stone, but righting himself finally Podrick drew up to his full height, unimpressive as it were.

YOU MIGHT BE RIGHT

whY The hEck is pOdRick

He paused for only a moment longer than it took for the gravity of the situation to sink in before nodding stiffly at the sellsword’s words, quickly searching for SOMETHING that could help the other man. 

“What HAPPENED?”

There was more blood soaking the other man’s leathers than the squire had initially seen, and the sight had shocked him for half a second longer. But Bronn was certainly right - standing there doing NOTHING wasn’t exactly helpful. He paused, however, UNCERTAIN. He was no maester. There had been plenty of blood and gore the Battle of the Blackwater, certainly, but HE had not had to attempt to treat it. At least the wound didn’t seem entirely life-threatening, for now.

PODRICK looked up in surprise at the voice, lips moving immediately upward into a smile as he caught a glimpse of whom it belonged to. “My lady,” he said instinctively, with a small dip of his head. A small voice in his head contradicted the title as if for Arya herself. Both she and Brienne had corrected him so many times, although it seemed as though the formality would forever be ingrained, despite their BEST efforts. He’d been leaning against a nearby wagon, left empty and momentarily abandoned, as he rested after his earlier practice session with Lady Brienne. As Arya approached Podrick stood straighter, not wanting to seem entirely disrespectful. 

Podrick couldn’t help the small burst of pride that seemed to swell in his chest at her words. His smile widened marginally. He wasn’t THE BEST by any means, but it certainly wasn’t for lack of EFFORT. He felt at least that he had been improving a little each week under Lady Brienne’s direction, step by step in the right direction. Podrick wasn’t entirely sure that it would be enough for the impending fighting, but he supposed that it would have to do. 

⚔︎NONVERBAL STARTERS MEME

He had been traveling with Ser Lady Brienne for nearly a fortnight since her confrontation with him in Maidenpool. Podrick had made it farther than he’d expected, in truth, before being caught following the woman. Despite fears that she would turn him away OR WORSE, she had agreed to allow him to travel with her. Each night since, they had trained.

It seemed that every muscle and fiber of his being seemed to ache from the rigorous exercises which Lady Brienne had him doing, but he embraced them best he was able. He’d told her before that he was thankful for the bruises and the blisters, and HE WAS. It was something to focus on, and every bruise and mar on his skin was another mark of improvement, however slight. He’d be better at fighting at the end of it, or so he could hope. Perhaps when they found Sansa Stark - and then hopefully Lord Tyrion - being able to actually FIGHT and defend himself might be useful. Podrick hadn’t been all that useful in protection BEFORE, but perhaps when they found him again… IF they found him again.

Podrick cleared his throat, eyes staring into the flames of the small fire that Lady Brienne had helped him build as he blinked back moisture furiously from his eyes. The fatigue and exhaustion from the day seemed to have culminated, and Podrick wished for nothing more than sleep. But he kept his eyes open, watching the fire and ensuring that He certainly didn’t need Lady Brienne thinking him MORE a child than he likely already seemed to be. He wanted to be a FIGHTER. Brave like Lady Brienne herself. 

The voice rang out near his ear as Podrick dodged another blow from the wight before him. A slash on his cheek that he’d only just barely avoided being a lethal wound stung dully, but he didn’t mind. He clung to the feeling, attempting to avoid other conscious thought as he simply fought to survive. He dodged, slashing just as Brienne had practiced with him. Can’t THINK, can’t LOOK. She’d be fine on her own. She was SER Brienne now. She’d taught him not to get distracted, hadn’t she?

The man’s yell drew his gaze, however briefly, and as he thrust his weapon forward into another of the undead - or not-dead? - he saw as Edd reached down to save another member of the night’s watch, visible only by the dragon fire as it lit the sky overhead. 

It’s so dark. So cold. No one could have expected this MANY...

Podrick steeled his grip on his weapon, letting out something of a growl as he plunged it into another enemy that had begun to approach Edd from behind, it’s weapon drawn up and forward, seemingly a millisecond from striking. “MOVE,” he simply yelled in their general direction as the other two men regained their bearings BOTH SEEMINGLY UNSCATHED FOR NOW. Then, pushing the corpse out of his way and moving to block another as it lunged at him with its deafening cry ringing in his ears, Podrick continued forward.