one ❀ voice

[unknowable]

[There's no video, because it's too dark in the coffin to show anything anyway. Adam's voice is carefully steady, as if he's keeping himself under control through sheer power of will.]

I saw that Fear said our air supply will be refreshed. I don't know if that's true - I don't know if we can trust him - but I thought people ought to know anyway.

[Not that he necessarily believes anything any of the gods say, but - well. Who knows.]

Talking is a little less impersonal than text. It might help to hear a familiar voice, if any of your friends are buried. There also isn't much to do down here but panic, so if anyone wants to talk - I wouldn't mind.

Comments

Voice

[greywaren]

[He's tempted to respond via text, but there's that whole bit about voices being more familiar than something just written down. So he exhales, pulls his phone up, and replies in a quiet, but determined voice.]

I'm going to find you.

Voice

[unknowable]

[They were fighting, but it doesn't matter. Hearing Ronan's voice is more of a comfort than Adam could ever say.]

If you can't - it's okay.

Voice

[greywaren]

Fuck that.

[Sharply, and with a little vitriol.]

It's not okay. Don't tell yourself that it is.

video

[whichend]

[ Arya's response comes an hour later after Adam's transmission, after worrying about if talking to him will get them both in more trouble.

This is divine punishment, after all, and Arya blames herself for inciting it. ]

Do you want to hear a story?

[ Her voice is a whisper, small and raspy and far away. She wants to apologize, desperately, but she knows it's too late for that now. All she can do is try to make Adam's death comfortable. She owes him that much. ]

video

[unknowable]

[It's hard to really pay attention to the passage of time down there in the coffin. It's dark, there's nothing to mark how the hours pass, so he doesn't care much how long it takes for anyone to respond. Arya in particular - well, he's not happy to know she's buried, too, but at least they can talk to each other.]

Yes. Please tell me a story.

[His voice is quiet too, not quite defeated but not particularly hopeful, either.]

[whichend]

I was not the first to call myself Nymeria.

[ She's admitted to the lie already, why not tell him the truth of that name? ]

Nymeria ruled in Ny Sar, where she had a palace. Then the Valyrians came, with their dragons, and Nymeria and her people had to flee to Abulu, in the Summer Islands. They lived there for a time, but it was not enough. There was little food, little to provide for a strong people.

So she trained her women for conquest. Nymeria became queen of a host of women-warriors, stronger than any man. They slicked themselves with oil and gold and grew their hair long, but their spears were longer. They prepared for battle under the hot sun and harsh rock, and Nymeria trained with them. She was their mother, their queen, their general.

[ She pauses. There's a couple of hitched breaths, as if she's about to cry. She reminds herself that Nymeria would not cry. Arya has to be brave. She has to tell the story. ]

voice

[casperdisaster]

Ronan and I are looking for you.

voice

[unknowable]

Thank you. It's okay if you can't find me.

voice

[casperdisaster]

No it isn't. We need you, and you need us, and we're all we've got right now. We'll find you.

voice

[theresolve]

Our friends will find us. The half that's not buried is showing remarkable organization to get the rest of us out.

[Rainier is a bit better about keeping his voice calm. Then again, he's much older.]

I'm certain I've lived through worse than this but no specific incident is coming to mind, personally.

voice

[unknowable]

I hope so.

[He regrets saying that, a moment later. Of course he wants to get out, but he doesn't want anyone to feel like they've failed him if they don't manage it. He changes the subject then.]

It would be hard to beat being buried alive.

voice

[theresolve]

That it is.

[And he could tell stories of the Deep Roads here, but that is a big bucket of Not Fucking Helping Anything even thinking of it.]

Though one time I did have to defend a camp with only a hangover and a rock with just my smallclothes for armor. That was not a pleasant morning.

voice

[werewolfing]

Hey, Mr. Congeniality, right?

[he remembers adam's name just fine, but it's an easy way to identify himself, too.]

Talking beats the hell out of lying in the dark. Or listening, too, I guess. Also beats the hell out of digging in silence. You like stories? I got a million.

voice

[unknowable]

Adam.

[He recognizes the name and the voice, and corrects Peter more or less gently. There's an edge of terror in his voice, but of course there would be.]

I don't have much to do but listen. I can't dig my way out of here. A story would be nice.

voice

[werewolfing]

Parrish, yeah. I remember.

[peter sounds calm enough, but there's an odd cadence to his voice, words that are slightly more forced. it gives his voice a strange rhythm, and in the background there's the even sound of something metal scraping into dirt, the pattering of soil on soil. somewhere, he's digging.]

You can tell stories, too, y'know. We can trade. It's fine if yours are short. I'll go first, though. You ever seen a faerie?

voice

[isacrowd]

Is that your way of saing you need some company?

[She manages to keep the worry out of her voice, for his sake. If he trusts her at all after that whole 'adventure' with the yetis, then she's not going to break that.]

voice

[unknowable]

I could really use some, yeah. Are you aboveground?

[He'd be happy to talk to anyone, but he does like Z, and he certainly trusts her enough to talk to her right now.]

voice

[unitas]

And what do we talk about? [ Sharon just wants voices, anything to get her mind off the situation. She's spent the last few hours singing every song she can remember, from the best to fucking Barney. ]

voice

[unknowable]

Anything. Tell a story. Tell me about yourself. Tell me about your childhood pet.

[He just wants voices, too. A reminder that this tiny, dark coffin isn't the only thing in the world.]

Voice

[notjustinthemirror]

If Fear kills all of you, then you won't be around to be afraid.

At least you can sleep and kill time.

Voice

[unknowable]

The question is whether the difficulty of bringing us all back is worth the amount of fear it'll give him.

But I guess that doesn't matter, since Fear isn't the one who supposedly brings people back.

Voice

[amos_moses]

Hey, friend. I'm sorry you're stuck down here, too.

[There's a faint rasp to Amos's voice already: not from dehydration, but from the strain of swinging between panic and steadiness and all the not-screaming that entails.]

So what didja want to talk about, mm?

[unknowable]

[He lets 'friend' pass, though Adam would not consider them friends. He's more wary now, though still carefully polite.]

Whatever you feel comfortable talk about. The act is more important than the content.

voice.

[fervence]

Hi Adam! [what's up it's your friendly neighborhood do-gooder and he's not sounding terribly strained by this whole ordeal because.......... because he's lloyd.]

Did you find a gun yet?

[unknowable]

[Well, at least it's a friendly voice. Adam is happy to hear from him.]

I did, actually. But now I'm stuck in a coffin six feet underground, so I can't really use it.