forum across the wall // one on one // closed

Started Sep 29 by @Mojack group

tune

and into the north…

Semi different setup from how I typically do RPs! No big blurb whatsoever this time, what’s gotten into you, Mojack?

I decided that I could no longer hold back the demons and decided to make a RP set in an already established universe that isn’t my own. I’ve actually been considering this for months now, so I decided to finally open the gates and attempt this.

If the meme wasn’t any indicator of what this rp is set in: The ASOIAF universe — aka what some people might be more familiar with, the same universe where the Game of Thrones, the ongoing House of the Dragon and the upcoming Dunk and Egg shows are set in. You don’t necessarily need to be an expert on the books or the shows, but I do expect for whoever joins this rp to have some knowledge on it. The wikis are generally pretty accessible.
I will say as to canon; since show canon and book canon tend to diverge quite a bit, I think there’ll be some of both. As of typing this I haven’t read the books (I have plans to! And I know snippets)

As far as plot goes, I don’t really have any idea of where it’ll go. I have the idea of the setting, but plot? we’ll figure that out as we go, so initially it’ll probably just be our characters focusing on whatever drives their individual selves.

ANYWAYS,

The setting and time period: The Wall, 15 AC. The realm is largely at peace.

The setting is just initial, and could shift. Maybe. Might be difficult depending on who our characters are; in which mine is a Night’s Watch member. so he can’t really leave without permission LOL

I will say, if you intend to have your character be a Night’s Watch member, they will be locked as male, due to only men being allowed in the Watch. Or at least they’d have to be perceived as male. Otherwise, there is little restriction. was originally going to have whomever joined this RP locked in as a Watch member, but I decided against it— you could also be a visitor to the Wall, or a freefolk/wildling prisoner or something. after all, this is a rp. it’s not canon.

what if we were on the wall and we kissed but we were both boys

https://awoiaf.westeros.org/index.php/Gender_and_sexuality

Wanted to also link that as a good resource. the wikis are your friend…use the wikis…. I myself am nonbinary and asexual; I am ALWAYS open to queer characters, but know that in the case of this world, the terminology such as nonbinary probably wouldn’t exist. doesn’t mean that wouldn’t exist — just that the term for it wouldn’t.

RULES

1. Ask before joining — if I do not know your writing style, I will ask for a writing sample with dialogue. Please have one at ready! Do not be offended if I deny you; I am most selective with my limited RPs compared to group RPs or character chats (least selective; open for everyone usually).
2. Activity is not a must. I am not active myself as I am now a college student (times fly by, huh?) If it appears I have forgotten to respond, I may have thought I did, when in reality I didn’t. It could also be possible that it has been a long time that I feel awkward about replying in case the other person doesn’t have the motivation to continue. Please note this before joining!
3. Cussing and violence are expected. Note that as is everything, there is a time and place for it.
4. Good grammar and punctuation appreciated, but I know that everyone makes mistakes, as I certainly do.
5. Mature RPers preferred as a preference. Any sexual content will be a fade to black sort of deal, though I am willing to push things? If that does happen, it’ll likely go to somewhere private to abide by rule 6.
6. All notebook.ai rules apply.
7. One paragraph minimum, or at least four sentences. No one liners. At the very least, give me something to work with and I’ll try to do the same for you.
8. Any questions? Ask!

and the template

Name:
Age: (20-26)
Gender:
Pronouns:
Orientation:

Appearance:
Clothing/style:
Personality:
Background: (as short or as long as you want)
Other:

Oooh i think i might have a perfect character for this setting. May I join? I'm not very familiar with asoiaf so I would very much be relying on those wikis if you allow me in.

sure thing! Do you have any questions at all?

Tysm!! And hmm, right now I only have one question but as we go on I might have more if I can't find the answer on the wiki. I'm planning on my character being part of the night watch. Does it matter which of the three orders he is in?

nope! My character will be a ranger. as you’ve been probably reading, it will impact his duties, but that’s about it.

Alrighty! I'm thinking my character might be a builder. Hopefully that'll give them enough overlap to interact? I'll get the character template fill out and posted later tonight.

sounds good!

Name: Johannan "Johan" Elerib
Age: 21
Gender:Male
Pronouns: He/him
Orientation: Mostly inexperienced in the way of love. He's found himself attracted to someone on occasion, and they have always also been male. (Achillean greysexual & greyromantic in modern terms)

Appearance: He stands at about 5'5". Healthy, well-muscled around his abdomen and arms from his job, otherwise on the slender side. His eyes are icy blue. He has long, dark brown hair with a slight wave to it, but he usually styles it into a braid that he can pin back to keep out of his face. His skin tone is pale with cool undertones.
Clothing/style: Johan appreciates the night's watch uniform, wearing a black tunic with equally black braies and chausses. A belt to hold his tools around his hips, and a simple black cloak draped over his shoulders.
Personality: Action-oriented. Spontaneous. He is almost always fidgeting with one of his carvings or bouncing his leg. Values his space and keeps a wide berth from typical people. Reserved and stoic towards most, but for those he dares to allow himself to get close to, he becomes practically effervescent in the good times. In the not so good times, he pours the intensity of his emotions into his job or hobbies, but isn't so receptive to talking about emotions.
Background: Johan was an unruly and insufferable teenager. Ultimately he was sad, angry with himself, and felt stifled by his upbringing that required him to sit still and keep his mouth shut. He couldn't contain the restless energy in himself to be a well-behaved son of a lesser noble, like his older brother, Leviticus. Instead, he lashed out at nearly everyone but he treated Levi the worst by far. They never fixed their relationship, but a firm hand and patient voice came in the form of a masonry mentor who helped channel Johan's firey emotions into creating something rather than destroying it. As he grew into himself, from 13-18, Johan leveled out under the direction of his mentor enough to voluntarily "take the black" and join the night's watch. He developed a love of swordsmanship during his training, although later he was assigned to be a builder when he took his vows. He's ashamed of the way he acted when he was younger, and carries a deep-seated fear that he will regress despite how much he has learned and grown.
Other: He enjoys a few hobbies that occupy his hands, namely whittling and knitting.

(Here it is! Let me know if I need to change anything.)

looks good! I’ll try to get my guy written up soon — it’s late right now, so likely not tonight. admittedly i was a bit hesitant in making this rp since I wasn’t sure if I’d get any people to join, so i was pleasantly surprised when you did lol.

“likely not tonight” me when i lie
I’ll get a starter up at some point tomorrow!

Name: Colbat Snow
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Pronouns: he/him
Orientation: In modern terms, Colbat would be considered gay. He has never felt attracted to women; an aspect of himself that he has thought about before quite a bit. He would also be grey ace.

Appearance: Colbat is a man standing around 5’7”, with a build trained well by frequent use of the bow. His eyes are dark green, and hair reddish brown, with a slightly wavy texture to it. At the longest it rests just below the base of his neck, and he prefers to keep it out of his face, so to the best of his ability, he tries to tie it. Usually clean shaven, unless he’s been out on a ranging in which there’s not always a convenient time to do so, but he’ll hardly ever let a noticeable beard grow.
His most notable feature is a scar running down the left side of his face, starting around the area of the ear and ending near his chin. It does not go over his eyes. He has fair skin.

Clothing/style: Typically, the uniform of the Watch. It’s important to dress properly for the North, especially with the type of cold you feel on the Wall and beyond. He’s quite fond of his cloak.
Personality: Colbat is reserved, and at times, appears closed off. In part, true— there are a few topics that Colbat does not like to dwell on. But beyond that, he is relatively easy to get along with. He’s not a confrontational person, though it is very easy for him to change his opinion on you (positive or negative); hence he can be at times, judgemental.
He has a fondness for animals, and for doing things the ‘safe’ way, even if they take a bit longer— he’s not a risk taker, unless there’s a situation where taking the risk would be more optimal.

Background: Colbat has noble blood flowing in his veins, but only partially. The bastard of a highborn father and lowborn mother, Colbat never learned who his birth father was, even drawing into adulthood. His birth mother, he only saw glimpses of as a youth, before she handed him off to a small family as just a youth, and he never saw her again.
Part of him thinks that she might’ve been a witch.

The family he’d been handed off to left him with several siblings, none of which were blood, but he formed varying relations with all of them as siblings do. He had two older brothers, and a younger sister.
Aside from his heritage, Colbat was otherwise an ordinary child. Though, things would shift when he was of around nine namedays, and begin to become plagued by reoccurring nightmares— that even as an adult, still continue. While as an adult, Colbat grew to become somewhat resistant of these nightmares, he suffered much more harshly as a youth, experiencing a lack of sleep when the nightmares were at their worst.
Things would shift at 17, when he killed a man. ‘Twas only him, the wind and the victim for witness — the details are cloudy, but ultimately resulted in Colbat taking the Black, knowing that it was incredibly unlikely he’d be able to coherently explain himself, and even then — would a soul believe him?

In the Watch, Colbat understood sword techniques, but his true skill showed best when he had a bow in his hands. Some of his fellow brothers even took to calling him ‘Lightfoot’ after he took his vows, his skills as a hunter of animals, men, and things known. He was assigned to the Rangers, and hasn’t looked back, preferring not to dwell on the past.

Other: Colbat has suffered from nightmares since he was eight. Sometimes, for periods of time, they may vanish; other times, they get worse. As an adult, Colbat is mostly accustomed to them. He hasn’t opened up to anyone at the Wall concerning this aspect of himself.
Colbat is pretty good at whistling and mimicking the calls of certain birds.

Colbat was along a group which had been moved to one of the other castles. He had come from Shadow Tower — which he had been at previously, for as long as he was in the Watch. Up until now, of course.
The journey to Greyguard was not particularly short, but Colbat was used to travelling distances, and found this one relatively simple as the route was easy to follow, the landmarks recognizable. As opposed to the depths of the North, in which things became dangerous. Everywhere was dangerous, but beyond the Wall?

That was something else. And Colbat hadn’t ever gone particularly deep, either. Perhaps that was why he still lived, years later.

His horse moved with the small group as Greyguard came into view. Whilst the realm may be at peace — mostly — the Wall never slept. Its enemies never did. And so when one castle needed skilled men, it was not unheard of. Even the experienced sometimes fell in battle, or to rather ‘mundane’ things like illness. When one could provide, it was important. Especially in an environment like this.
His horse slowed as he came ever closer to the gates, which even at this distance, Colbat noted the presence of men upon it, no doubt already informed that men from Shadow Tower would be arriving any day now. Today was that day. As the gates opened, so did their group of men, about 20 or so strong. It was not a large group, but the men in it were similar in the fact that they had served the Watch for at the very least a year now, likely good at something seeing as they were still around — or just very lucky. Colbat secretly thought of himself as the former, but he wasn’t much for bragging.

When he dismounted his dapple grey horse, his boots hit the ground, and Colbat looked around. Greyguard was different in appearance from Shadow Tower in a few notable ways, but many aspects were also similar. He’d think to himself, he’d have no trouble figuring out where the bunks were, or the mess hall, or the training yard. In fact, he could see the training yard already— eyes skimming it over, he glanced back at his fellow brothers, the ones he had come with, and then his brothers who were stationed here.
Well. Suppose that they’re all stationed here now, aren’t they?

If he didn’t know where something was, he supposed he could just follow people around who looked like they knew where things were. Or he could ask— suppose that it might be easier to use his words, he thinks, leaning against a fence. Beyond being assigned to Greyguard, there wasn’t much in the way of orders he was given. Business as usual, then? Colbat silently muses. He supposes he’ll hang around by the training yard a little longer, see if there’s anything he’s needed for, but otherwise, he’ll go about in finding what his duties are. For a ranger he may be, he wasn’t always out on a range. Sometimes it was about the more mundane, boring things.
That wasn’t to say that at times walking in endless snow could be exciting either.

(Lol yay! I'm looking forward to this story for sure. The starter looks awesome!)

Johan had heard that there would be men from the Shadow Tower arriving within a matter of days. The reception of this news had been greatly varied around him:a mixture of indifference, dread, and the eagerness of anticipating new faces. Johan, himself, was mildly interested at the idea of some novelty joining the monotonous life at Greyguard. Although that wasn't to say that even the most mundane of his duties weren't far more enjoyable than the life he lived before taking the Black.

The new arrivals were out of his mind by the time Johan began his assignment for the day—a relatively short project, stabilizing some steps on a stone staircase that had started to crumble underfoot. With the steps repaired, and a substantial amount of time left in the day, he made his way towards the training grounds.

When the gates opened and interested eyes wandered over to the men from Shadow Tower, Johan was busy in a sparring match with one of his brothers. He threw punches with wrapped fists, and his cloak dragged through the dusting of snow when he dodged low. He focused his attention long enough for what he considered an honorable duration despite the distractions. At least, that was until a watchman he couldn't recognize, who stood off to the side, caught his eye. He froze while he squinted at the man. Oh. That's right. Shadow Tow— An explosion of pain erupted in his jaw as his sparring partner's fist landed. Johan yelped.

In any case, it seemed likely that he’d figure out where he needed to be at some point. Empty hands would not stay empty. Colbat would rather keep busy, not liking to be bored. Most people did not. It was an unpleasant emotion.
His eyes shifted back to the yard, this time looking a bit more as opposed to the previous glance. It didn’t seem incredibly packed at the time, but it was certainly occupied with a few brothers at the moment. Engaged in practice.

Colbat saw the importance in practice. Back at Shadow Tower, he did it routinely, keeping himself occupied and exercising both mind and memory. While he definitely favoured his bow, it was still good for him to know how to defend himself from a melee perspective, in which he focused more on defensive tactics rather than offensive ones. Unarmed — he could certainly hold his own.
He was shaken out of his thoughts by a brief yell— of surprise? His gaze veered in direction of where he had heard it. Colbat was standing quite close to the training yard, making it particularly easy for him to locate the source.

His eyes settled on a man, perhaps around his height (he couldn’t be for certain unless he stood closer), who had let out the sound, and it did not take long for Colbat to determine what had happened, and that there wasn’t any particular cause for concern.
Training yard. Must’ve been caught off guard by his opponent, he thinks, studying the man for a moment longer, clearly looking in that direction.

Johan shook his vision free of stars and rubbed his sore jaw, attention turning back to his training partner—who had a smug grin plastered on his face. "Nestar." He cursed once he'd composed himself after a moment. "That hurt."

Nestar laughed aloud, not too unkindly. "Wouldn't hurt if you were looking at what you were doing. You could've avoided that. Easy." He shuffled one foot back and lifted his arms to resume. He was taller than Johan, at least by a few inches. Older by maybe a decade. Blond hair cropped to the tip of his ears. "Now stop whining and come at me."

Johan grumbled but didn't disagree. He wiggled his jaw back and forth to confirm no injury, and mirrored Nestar's stance. One more quick sideways glance to the man by the training grounds—oh, he was watching them now.

Nestar didn't miss the brief distraction and lunged forward. Johan barely blocked the offense with a forearm, countering with a throw of his own. The fight went on for a few more well-matched moves on both sides until Nestar tapped Johan's dominant foot when their arms were locked, catching the shorter man off balance. Then Nestar danced backwards and Johan skip-stepped forward—too vulnerable to shift this fight in his favor now—up to the point when Nestar finally brought him down to his knees. "You're distracted, Zoklītsos," he chided, but helped his younger brother-in-arms up anyway.

Colbat continued to watch for some time, studying the two individuals, making note of whatever he deemed important. One looked to be around his age — the other, older, perhaps.
That one seems distracted. Colbat had seen him glance in his direction, but hadn’t made the association before. Was it him? It made sense, he supposed. New arrivals, new faces. At least this was only training, where conditions were more forgiving if you happened to look in the wrong direction for too long.

“Lightfoot!”

He was met by only a light tap on the shoulder, but he had heard the approaching steps behind him, even if he had been turned the other way. Looking to the other man next to him — one of the brothers he had come with from Shadow Tower, a man only a couple inches taller and around his age, a few years give or take — Colbat gave a slight nod of acknowledgment, “Anthor.”

Anthor was a man of the North, just like Colbat. Although, the former had grown up in White Harbour, whilst Colbat himself situated further north, in a far smaller town. Village, rather.
“Settling in already?”

“I’ve not even been here an hour, same as you,” Colbat replied, “not even a half of one.” His arms shifted up to his chest as he crossed them.
“Oh.” Anthor blinked. “I suppose that was a stupid question.” His tone was lighthearted, though.
Colbat replied with a slight quirk of his lips.

Anthor’s attention focused on what Colbat had seemed to be looking at previously. He then looked back to Colbat, and said, “Gauging the skills of our brothers from Greyguard?”
“Maybe.” He shrugged. “Just thinking, mostly. Maybe I’ll go train a little myself. Haven’t shot a bow since we left Shadow Tower.”
Anthor hummed, nodded some. “Well, I won’t be staying to watch,” he paused, adding as Colbat tilted his head towards him again, “going to find some of the boys and go inside, probably. Hey, you can join us after you train a bit, yeah?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe,” Anthor repeated with a chuckle. “That’s your favourite word, isn’t it?”

Colbat opened his mouth, but then closed it. After a pause, he chuckled, then lifted his hand in a halfway waving gesture. “I’ll see you later, Anthor.”

After exchanging temporary farewells with his comrade, Colbat turned back, and gave the training yard another scan, trying to locate the— there, ranged targets he could practice with. He then proceeded into the yard, unslinging the bow that he had been carrying — his bow, really. He paused, momentarily, looking down at it, making sure that it was in good condition. He could do a more in depth assessment later.
Once he felt that his bow looked fine, Colbat resumed his pace back to the ranged targets, which was only a few more steps.

Colbat gradually readied himself into a stance. In a more active situation, he’d get ready swiftly, but this was just practice. More forgiving, he thought to himself, borrowing thoughts from just a few minutes ago.
With his breath steady, Colbat drew his bow, eyes on the target he stood in line of. He held this exact pose for a few more seconds, before releasing the arrow.

A thud sounded as the arrow hit its mark. A core shot; had it been a person, it would have been a fatal shot at that. Colbat exhaled, and relaxed his aim.

Johan accepted Nestar's hand to pull himself back up onto two feet, then composed himself by brushing some snow off of his legs and straightening his cloak. "Whatever," he dismissed the accusation with a mutter. It was true, though. He resisted the temptation to glance back at the man who'd been watching, instead fixing his attention to adjusting the wraps around his hands. "I'm just not feeling hand-to-hand like I thought I was, I suppose. One of those days."

Nestar clapped him on the shoulder. "Sure, Little Wolf. Sure."

Johan kept his gaze glued to his hands, stiff and achy from the cold. He flexed them a few times before stuffing them under his armpits so they might thaw. "Mhm." His shoulders hunched over, signaling his retreat into a state his closer comrades might call sulking. No, not sulking, he thought to himself—this was different. It was only cold, and he just needed another distraction or movement to warm him back up. "Let's do swords."

Nestar frowned at that. "Are you sure? With your absentmindedness I don't think blades are—"

"—I'm better at blades," Johan insisted. "Get the swords." A sharp warning glance from Nestar had him adding: "I mean please."

Nestar, though reluctant, conceded and started towards the swords rack.

While his comrade was absent, Johan took the opportunity to look back at the other man. Oh, he was gone. After another scan of the training grounds for good measure, his gaze finally landed on the newcomer standing at the ranged targets. Just as he was about to fire, in fact. Johan's brows lifted at the solid thud, the arrow having made a hypothetically fatal blow. Impressive. He'd been trained in archery like all the others, of course, but the gross majority of his shots were debilitating at best. Perhaps he should work on that more than his swordplay.

Colbat’s eyes hovered on the spot where the arrow had landed for a few moments. He felt like it was an adequate shot. He had just been about to prepare to try again, when he paused, feeling that he was being watched.
It was a training yard, and people did observe quite often. Perhaps it was because he was new to Greyguard, or maybe a different reason, Colbat felt like he had to look. So he did.

His head turned — not slowly, but not fast either, just a speed in between the two. He met eyes with the man who he had noticed earlier. He was sparring with someone else, wasn’t he? Unarmed sparring. Colbat tilted his head ever so slightly. He wasn’t certain of where the other man’s partner had gone, but this one was alone right now, and most definitely looking at him.
It certainly wouldn’t hurt to approach and talk. Especially since he had just gotten here— and this man, for whatever reason, did seem…interested? Impressed by the previous shot, maybe. That was a likely guess.

Colbat relaxed his bow again and turned his body to face the other man. From his spot at the archery targets, he walked over to the one who had been looking at him. With an expression of neutrality (he’d never been very good with expressions), he stopped short, and spoke, “Greetings. You’re from Greyguard — from here, aren’t you?”

He opted not to mention I noticed you were staring at me. He had no clue how to word that properly, and it seemed awkward to say. Colbat felt like what he said came off a bit…better.

Johan inhaled sharply, his arms and shoulders going tense when the man who'd fired the arrow made eye contact. His initial instinct was to immediately glance away, which he did at first, but then considered how much more awkward that could have made this interaction. So he looked back. Since the man had turned towards him now, Johan offered a curt nod of acknowledgement. He'd hoped that would have been the end of their exchange. It was not.

Instead, it appeared his attention had led the copper-haired watchmen into approaching him. With a silent curse, Johan trained his expression into civility as opposed to the one akin to a deer who'd spied a hunter in the trees. He'd been trained for battle, taught to make stones bend to his will, prepared to stare at death and maintain his composure until the very end. Why was this so fearsome? He dipped his chin again as the man began to speak.

Now that he could make out the newcomer's features up close, he noticed the scar first—of which he lingered for a moment too long and silently chided himself for it. The entirety of his visage taken into consideration, Johan decided that he perhaps more than didn't mind looking at this man. So much so that he couldn't catch all of what he'd said. Something about Greyguard? "Greyguard. Yes. I'm from here. I heard about about men from Shadow Tower being stationed here."

Colbat watched the man as he waited for a response, taking into note again — that distracted look, is it me? Is he looking at my scar? Colbat wasn’t particularly bothered by people looking at the scar, as long as they were brief glances — not hard stares. This man did not seem like the latter of that category, thankfully.

With his guess confirmed— of course he was right, he had come with a small group of men, and he knew all of them, if not by face then by voice, by behaviour, by name. But this blue eyed man was not one he recalled from his memory. A new face.

“Aye,” letting slip the northerner’s accent, “I’m one of those men. Suppose I’m from here now, aren’t I?” For the most part, Colbat maintained eye contact. It wasn’t like he was staring directly into the eyes of the watchman at all times, for he did give an occasional glance to the background. When needed, Colbat could probably win a staring contest, but this wasn’t a staring contest. This was just him attempting to get to know a new face, but one he’d be spending time with in the future, now that he was at Greyguard.
He should probably introduce himself.

“My name’s Colbat, by the way. Colbat Snow, ranger.” He maintained a neutral expression, giving his introduction with practiced calmness.

Afraid he might be interpreted as being inattentive, Johan sharpened his focus on the content of the conversation. So this man was a newcomer, as expected. And his name: Colbat. He was a ranger. Johan nodded while he processed the information. He didn't know many rangers all that well. Of course, they were all brothers in arms, and when he went on assignments that brought him across the wall for routine checks of the ice, a ranger went with him. Even so, Johan deliberately avoided unecessary conversation with whomever had been assigned to escort him. Otherwise, the rangers he knew were preoccupied with missions outside camp.

"A ranger, eh? That makes sense," he responded, thinking back to Colbat's impressive shot. "I'm Johan." After recalling Colbat had offered his own full name, "I mean Johannan Elerib. Builder."

As if on cue— "Johan!" Nestar called as he approached the two, bearing a sword in each hand. He held one out to his sparring partner, who took it somewhat reluctantly. Then turning to Colbat, he offered a toothy, affable grin. "Well met, Sir. Welcome to Greyguard. I'm Nestar. Steward."