Who| Sansa and OPEN
What| Sansa arrives in the Capitol
Where| Around the Tribute Center and the Capitol
When| ...Now?
Warnings/Notes| TBC

She feels lost and unmoored, but that's nothing new. Since her father's death, through all the long protracted nightmare of King's Landing, she's felt that way, out of her depth and swept up in things beyond her control. In that sense, it hardly comes as a surprise for Ser Dontos' boat to become a dream, and to wake up somewhere else entirely.

It's the place itself that shocks her, therefore, at least as much as the fact that she's here. She's never seen or even dreamed of anything like this land, all glass and steel and blinding white, even the guards dressed in something glossy and clean and hard that certainly isn't steel armour. She lets herself be guided without argument, meek and mild as any girl could ever be, and feels oddly bereft when they leave her in her new room without even that dubious company.

When it comes down to it, though, she doesn't stay in the room long - but still long enough to wonder at a few of the strange objects scattered around it: the black mirror on the wall that barely reflects, the lights in the ceiling that have no clear flame. Then, feeling the strangeness of it all well up inside her, she knows she ought to get moving. She has to find out where she is, for one thing, and what the allegiances are of its lords. The Lannisters will be looking for her, she thinks, and if she ends up back in King's Landing, what she endured before will seem like tender mercy.

For the rest of the day, Sansa can be found wandering - first out into District 6's common area, then around the rest of the strange building, and at last out into the streets themselves. Her wonder is written on her face, along with a growing unease; she is so caught up in staring up at the sweeping buildings and foreign towers and strange lights that she may well bump into several people, her ladylike grace and manners momentarily forgotten.

If she does drag her eyes away from the city long enough to focus on its people, she will approach anyone who looks as though they might be friendly, bobbing a curtsey and asking politely if she might have a word.