Helping the Hosts + Predator vs Prey [semi-open!]

[northerndragon]

Who: Jon Snow (northerndragon) and others! Some of this is prearranged but please give me a nudge if you want to plot something; I'm especially looking for people for him to save in the event, on this log or any other.
What: Jon gathers people to help the Hosts and goes out looking to capture them, hopefully without hurting them too much. After the event starts, he will be unaffected. However, if he is in a position to stand between a predator and someone they want as their prey, whether it's on one of these hunts or back in the city proper, he will. If you are tagging in during the event with one of those positions, please make a note of it.
Where: Host hunting: outside the city. Predator vs. Prey: anything that comes up during host hunting, plus anything he's needed for in the event itself.
When: 3/11 through closer to the city move (flexible), covering the Predator vs Prey event. If the event itself gets too hot and he feels he's needed more in the city as a protector, he may set aside host hunting for the latter part of it. Other than that and the stuff set before the event starts, I don't want to be too fussy about the timeline.
Warnings: The usual overall Game of Thrones warning. While Jon himself is a super good guy who fights to protect people who are less able to protect themselves, a blanket warning is important because potentially objectionable or triggering themes (extreme violence, abuse, consensual incest, etc.) are so pervasive in his canon that it's almost impossible to interact with him without them coming up from time to time in tags.

{Starter in comments.}

Comments

[iron_beneath_beauty]

It's hard to ignore that he doesn't draw his sword. Lyanna hesitated with hers, wondering if he might know something she didn't. Choosing the bow she had brought along as well, she readied an arrow to loosen the moment the tentacle came near them.

She looked at him questioningly. "You should be ready for attack."

[northerndragon]

He has a strong stance, and he's frowning, looking around. He could have sworn he saw something edge itself behind that boulder. Not necessarily one of the Hosts; it might as easily be something else.

"I am. But if I go at the thing with Valyrian steel, it's dead. Killing them isn't our task." He shakes his head, his hand at his belt on the handle of his dirk, then adds, "They're right to be afraid. You heard how the Null hurt them."

[iron_beneath_beauty]

She hadn't paid much attention to what was happening in this world, focusing instead on Rhaegar and Jon. When she volunteered to go with him, it was less for selfless reasons and more of wanting to protect her son. The Hosts and Null, she knew nothing of them, only that Jon seemed to be wary of them.

"You didn't have another sword to bring?" She asked him with a hint of amusement. "Use mine. You need to protect yourself and it will be less likely you will kill them." It was better than walking around without a weapon at the ready.

[northerndragon]

Another shake of his head, but he isn't looking at her, he's looking at the rocks for the tentacle he thought he saw.

"I could have taken another sword, but these things can kill. It might be that I'll need Longclaw. It's only -- I don't want to use it first."

Still, he holds his hands out for her sword. Some people in the city, like Sonya, have advantages in catching these things; his would only be an advantage in murdering them. And while he's found a net to bring, too, it may not be enough.

But it isn't hard to understand why they haven't really been given extra supplies for this task, not if the gods intend to move the city again soon.

[iron_beneath_beauty]

"You are honorable." But she knew that already. Her son took after Ned in so many ways, certainly more than she did. While she held honor close to her, it was never to her brother's extreme. Otherwise, she might never have run off without a word.

"There are ways to wound with a sword without killing, sweetling." Still, she would bear in mind that she should aim to cause slight injury, not a mortal blow. If they were attacked, there was nothing to do but to fight back. She wasn't about to let her son be injured.

She handed him her sword, likely smaller than he was used to and lighter as well, better suiting her frame than his. "I'll follow your lead."

[northerndragon]

"I try to be. But our mission, it's not to kill them. It's to help them, even if they don't want to be helped."

That's what Hope has asked for: the creatures are people to the god, and he wants them saved. They don't look like people to Jon, they look like beasts. But he remembers a time when he had gone to the Wall to join the Watch to make a hero of himself by killing Wildlings, and how he had learned that Wildlings weren't much different from the people he'd grown up knowing around Winterfell, just freer.

So it is with the Hosts: much like people, with a few noticeable differences.

He takes the sword from his mother, not knowing what to do if one of the Hosts hurts her. He is glad that she's with him, but she has been dead for all but the first hours of his life. Seeing her die again would hurt him.

"If they wrap one of us, we may be forced to cut them. But not until then."

[iron_beneath_beauty]

She was never a bloodthirsty woman. As much as she enjoyed swordplay and tournaments, it was never the same thrill for her that it would be for Robert Baratheon. The man seemed to take delight in crushing things smaller than him. It didn't take much for her to guess how he'd view this mission and what he'd prefer to do.

But Jon was right and it was better to press ahead without actively hurting anyone. Her arrows were sharp, and she wasn't familiar with the differences in Hosts to them, but she'd do her best to wound.

"You should take the lead," she offered, nodding towards the rock where the Host was hiding. "You might be able to calm it."

[northerndragon]

"I might. Don't think I will. If it knows about its fellows at all, it knows that we took some away, and they haven't come back. But it's been said that they have ways of speaking to each other without words."

He steps forward, towards the rock, one hand up, the other holding the sword.

How can he tell a creature that he comes in peace when it doesn't speak his language, or even understand the signs that seemed universal to him until now?

The creature begins to ease back from behind the rock, and Jon bends to begin to put the sword on the ground between them. Before he can lay it flat, a tentacle whips out and encircles his wrist, tight as anything.

[iron_beneath_beauty]

She pulled an arrow as Jon approached the rock. Whatever their intentions, she wasn't naive enough to believe that they would reach the creature without words. That her son was at risk made her the most uneasy. Too much loss made her expect the worst and never find the strength to hope.

It moves too quickly for her to react before it wrapped around his wrist. "Jon!" Her seized in her throat, the world dimming around her as the worst possible outcome flashed in her mind.

An arrow flew at the tentacle, grazing it first as a warning. But with no response, her protectiveness taking control. Not her son! Not now!

Another arrow shot at it, landing sharply in the tentacle.

[northerndragon]

The nautilus jerks back the injured tentacle -- for the moment. Another one flies at Jon and wraps his wrist like the first did, before he has a chance to move his arm. It squeezes his forearm through his braces. The pressure isn't enough to break a bone, but it's enough to hurt a bit.

He reaches for the sword with his other hand and cuts the tentacle close to his arm, but to his surprise, the force on his arm doesn't lessen. It's like a hand clamped on him, and before he made the cut, one that had been tugging him towards the creature.

It doesn't occur to him to be grateful that Lyanna has called him Jon, for once.

He sets the sword down again and says in frustration, "We don't want to hurt you!" Foolish to say this when the creatures don't understand. A tentacle reaches out, whips the sword away from him. It skitters across the ground and lands closer to Lyanna.

Seven bloody hells. He shakes his head in frustration and resignation, and draws Longclaw.

[iron_beneath_beauty]

It was obvious that the time for talk was over. Jon could lose an arm because of this thing, and despite his appeal, it wasn't about to let go. Her warning went unheeded, mercy couldn't be offered when her son was in danger.

She grabbed her sword, giving it a small twirl before charging towards the tentacle. Another one shot out at her, but she was quick enough to dodge, rolling to the side. It gave Jon enough time to draw his sword.

"Let go of my son!" She shouted, bringing the sword down against the tentacle that had disarmed Jon. The blade didn't cut through, managing a deep wound, causing the Host to scream in pain. Blood shot back at her, wetting her dress and face. She took its distraction to race to Jon's side, trying to pull the tentacle from him, though it seemed to have him in a vice grip.