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#61 | |||
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Elite Fan
 
Joined: Dec 2003
Posts: 33,037
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Mwahahaha.
 __________________
"He was...like a storm." |
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#62 | |||
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Elite Fan
Joined: Jul 2000
Posts: 25,980
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I'm having a really hard time with my Tully man/ Hand of the king of someone else wants to take him before I get back on Saturday just let me know.
__________________
[ICON CREDIT: sourburst] |
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#63 | |||
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Passionate Fan
Joined: Apr 2004
Posts: 3,382
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I think I need this all in family tree form.
Because I am now so lost.  |
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#64 | |||
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Master Fan
Joined: May 2007
Posts: 10,140
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Pammie, if Lord Tully is being that difficult for you, don't even worry about it. I think Em's extra male character covers the female/male ration anyway.
AND OMG LIBBY SHE IS PERFECT. PERFECTLY AWFUL. AND AMAZING. This is so creeptastic now. No wonder the next generation is so messed up!  Mama Lannister better be nice to Lady Lorene or  __________________
Woman? Is that meant to insult me? I would return the slap, if I took you for a man. |
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#65 | |||
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Elite Fan
Joined: Dec 2003
Posts: 33,037
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I'M GLAD YOU LOVE HER. I LOVE HER CRAZY AWFUL SELF TOO.
Leigha, basically everyone is related. The end. __________________
"He was...like a storm." |
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#66 | |||
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Master Fan
Joined: May 2003
Posts: 22,457
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No, no, don't be nice to Lorene. I want the conflict.
 MWAHAHAHAA. I still want more characters.  __________________
a bird may love a fish, signore, but where will they live?
All hail Em, The First of her name, Queen of Chris Evans' heart, Mistress of the Marvel Universe and Roleplaying Board's fairest and kindliest Mod ever! |
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#67 | |||
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Master Fan
Joined: May 2007
Posts: 10,140
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OOC: The boyfriend had to work a couple of hours today so I had time to get the first post going.
 In celebration of Maegor and Daena Targaryen’s twentieth nameday, the King has invited the whole of the realm to King’s Landing for a Grand Tourney and a Masquerade Ball. The current setting is a warm summer evening in Great Hall of the Red Keep, where men and women from births high and low have piled into the transformed throne room for a bit of dancing, drinking, fine food and general merriment. The Tourney would be excuse enough for anyone around the Seven Kingdoms to travel to King’s Landing as there are several purses of money being offered to the victors of the various competitive events. Feel free to place your characters anywhere around the ball, masked or otherwise, or anywhere else in King’s Landing if masquerades are not quite their thing. My other characters are all open, so feel free to tag them or request a tag. Jaehaerys, Rosamund and Rowena would all be in attendance for the ball. Lyonel would probably be elsewhere in the city, though that’s not to say I cannot still be persuaded to post him at the ball as well if someone desires a tag from him and can’t find a reason for why their own character would not attend. Daena Targaryen And her lovely hair The world around Daena Targaryen was a glorious blur of colors. The reds and blues and greens and oranges of the lovely gowns of dancers blending together in a kaleidoscope of color. The throne room in the Red Keep, normally so dour and severe, had come alive with music and dance and merriment in celebration of her and her brother’s shared nameday. Fires blazing in the large braziers filled the cavernous hall with warmth as the sound of cellos, flutes and vielles echoed along the red stained stoned walls. At the center of it all was the eldest Targaryen princess, surrounded by a gaggle of ladies whom had all gathered in a circle, hands clasped together as they all spun in a circle. The princess took up the center of the circle, the silks of her black and red gown ballooning outward as she spun around in dizzying circles in time to the music. Daena giggled merrily, collapsing into the arms of one of her ladies in waiting, the mask on her face cleverly shaped into that of a bat. Another of her ladies placed a hand on her arm, her mask a collection of shells, suggesting the princess take a short breather lest she collapse then and there on the floor. Daena’s chest heaved heavily, a thin sheen of sweat gathering on her forehead and along the skin revealed by the plunging neckline of her dress. Her lips merely widened though, a look of wild determination finding her face as a familiar tune began to play. She would pause to take a breath, she promised her ladies, but only after The Dornishman’s Wife finished playing. Daena then took a turn around the dance floor, flitting about from one dance partner to the next with grace and ease. She danced with a Merman from White Harbor, a Huntsman from Horn Hill, a Turtle from Greenstone and a Blazing Star from Starfall before the song had at last reached its conclusion. In the instant the music ended, she turned her back to her final Dornish dance partner, abandoning him where he stood in the center of the ballroom floor with only the slightest nod of her chin to serve as her parting gesture. She relented at last, deciding to at last take a break only after spotting her twin brother at the far end of the hall. Lifting up the hem of her skirts, she quickly weaved her way through the crowd and in her excitement she flung herself into Maegor Targaryen’s lap, nearly knocking over the cup of wine in his hand in doing so. “Beloved brother,” she greeted breathlessly, thoughtlessly snatching up the goblet of wine in her brother’s hand. She was out of breath after all and in dire need of some kind of refreshment. The liquid was spicy on the tongue, Dornish in origin like the song that had just finished playing. “You are late to your own ball.” Dark indigo eyes peered with playful chastisement from behind the slits of her bejeweled mask. She too had fashioned her mask into the fantastical creature that represented her house, onyx and rubies making up the scales that framed the upper portion of her face in the shape of a dragon. “Whatever could have possibly kept you away for so long?” TAG MAEGOR TARGARYEN Tybalt Lannister There was once a time Tybalt Lannister might have enjoyed the spectacle that was currently taking place in the Red Keep of King’s Landing. He could recall a Tourney from years back that he had participated in while he was still squiring for Ser Alistair Whent and how exciting that first tilt had been. Tybalt lasted three rounds in the List before eventually being unseated by a young member of the Kingsguard, but his performance had earned him the attentions of a maiden from House Royce and he had spent the better part of the evening fumbling hopelessly with the folds of her dress in a poorly lit hallway away from the view of prying eyes. Fortunate for Tybalt, as his first sexual experience involving the opposite sex had been painfully awkward. With more Tourneys came more Balls and with more Balls came the opportunity to hone his skills with hand and tongue, the result of which was now fully enjoyed by his wife and his wife alone. Perhaps that was why he found himself to be utterly bored by the spectacle now, finding he enjoyed his current reality far more than any he could conjure up from behind the safety of a mask. Tybalt sat next to his lovely lady wife, the mask his mother had had fashioned for him conveniently left back in their living quarters. The Lannister colors of gold and red were proudly displayed in his ensemble though, a golden lion stitched into the upper right corner of his doublet that left no question as to what House he belonged to. At his right sat the Lady Lorene, a vision of golden ringlets cascading down her shoulders that named her more the Lannister she had become through marriage than the Tyrell she had been by blood. On her lap sat their infant son who matched his father in a doublet of red and gold as well. Though his face remained largely inscrutable, a glimmer of amusement twinkled in his eyes as he watched his young son’s clumsy hands reach unsuccessfully for the nearby bottle of wine on the table. No. There was definitely no other place he would have rather been in that moment. “We may have to keep an eye on that. He seems to already have a taste for fine Arbor Wine,” Tybalt jested quietly, his lips hovering inches from his wife’s face as he moved to brush a loose ringlet of hair behind her ear. His gaze briefly took in the sight of the pale skin on her neck, thoughts momentarily consisting of things better suited for their bed than the public spectacle of a Grand Ball. Not forgetting where he was though, Tybalt sat upright in his chair once more. “Is there anything I can get you?” He asked Lorene, nodding to the noticeably empty glass in front of her. Not wanting to forget the other woman in his life, Tybalt shifted in his seat to glance at the seat on his other flank where the Lady Ambryl Lannister sat. “And you as well, mother?” TAG LORENE LANNNISTER AND AMBRYL LANNISTER __________________
Woman? Is that meant to insult me? I would return the slap, if I took you for a man. Last edited by degausser; 03-21-2015 at 02:14 PM |
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#68 | |||
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Elite Fan
Joined: Mar 2001
Posts: 40,449
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OOC: If I was to get in on this, are there any particular characters that might be needed?
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#69 | |||
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Master Fan
Joined: May 2007
Posts: 10,140
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OOC: I for one would really like the Queen involved in the mix to up the ante with the King's Landing politics. If Pammie is still having trouble with a Lord Tully, that's another option as well. I'd be happy to shoot you a PM as well if you'd like.
__________________
Woman? Is that meant to insult me? I would return the slap, if I took you for a man. |
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#70 | |||
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Elite Fan
Joined: Mar 2001
Posts: 40,449
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Quote:
 And yes please on the PM! |
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#71 | |||
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Elite Fan
Joined: Jul 2000
Posts: 25,980
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yeah. I don't think I can do Lord Tully.
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[ICON CREDIT: sourburst] |
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#72 | |||
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Master Fan
Joined: May 2007
Posts: 10,140
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OOC: Pammie, don't worry about it. Starfield Scribe is going to take him.
__________________
Woman? Is that meant to insult me? I would return the slap, if I took you for a man. |
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#73 | |||
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Elite Fan
Joined: Mar 2001
Posts: 40,449
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OOC: One down! Seven to go!
NAME: Desmera AGE: 28 HOUSE: None; Mistress of the 'main' brothel in King's Landing THEME SONG: "Medicine" - Daughter PERSONALITY: Calm, observant, open, warm, sensual THREE LIFE FACTS: * Her childhood may have began in Flea Bottom, but she remembers little of it. The seventh child of eight, she and three of her siblings followed their merchant father on a ship to Essos, the better to give the two halves of their family a chance to breathe. Only the ship never reached port, and as far as anyone knew, it took with its cargo the whole of crew and passengers. No one realized the six-year-old girl who washed to the shores of Braavos had been one of them, not even the red priestess who found her. * Desmera's memory would return to her in time, though she would have grown four years under the wing of the one she called 'Mother Lady' by then. She learned to worship at the fire, to pray to the Lord of Light, as her benefactor swore He had been the one to safeguard her life. She tended to the priestess, to her home and her needs, and in doing so she learned from her, more than either expected. One morning, Desmera woke to find her mistress gone, and strange men standing over her. It wasn't until she sensed the danger that it came to her. She'd seen them... in the fire. It saved her life. * That she ever found her way to Westeros was very much by chance. She had found refuge in the place, it felt to her, where they would not think to find her. The women at the pleasure house were kind to her, and they protected her; they could only do so for so long. She was fourteen when she began to work for them, and much like with her previous mistress, she felt she was doing what she had to in order to survive. She never felt in danger, because if it ever came, then her Lord would show her the way out. When one Westerosi lordling looked at the nineteen-year-old and saw love, he bid her return to his land with him, and she knew it was her path. The little lord died ill on the journey, but it brought Desmera where she needed to be. The brothel where she found home would fall under her control in a matter of two years, when word of her gift took to spreading. Now she is poised, right where she was meant to land, not so far from the first place she called home. RELATIONSHIPS: TBA TB: Starfield_Scribe PB: Tamla Kari  |
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#74 | |||
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Master Fan
Joined: May 2007
Posts: 10,140
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Rowena Tyrell
It had been many moons beyond counting when Rowena Tyrell had last found herself in King’s Landing. Only she had not been Rowena Tyrell then, but Rowena Hightower. It had been in celebration of another Targaryen prince’s nameday, though she was remiss to remember which one it had been. Had it been Jaehaerys? Her fallen dragon knight, now specs of ash floating in the air somewhere? She was surprised to find she could no longer recall his face, though when she spotted the current prince across the hall she found if she squinted she could almost see him in Maegor Targaryen’s place. All Targaryens looked the same, after all. Golden hair so pale it was silver in the right light, eyes varying shades of violet and indigo. Yes indeed, she could almost see him now. Almost. And then it was gone. Nostalgia was a silly thing, fleeting and fickle it was. Or maybe that was just Rowena? Her mind worked it much the same way her sense of smell did, flitting about from one thing to the next. The table before her had a banquet of food on it. Savory quails drowned in butter, buttered carrots, fish tarts, almond crusted trout, roasted boor, a selection of tarts with varying colorful fillings, pigeon pie. Rowena could barely recall the face of the Targaryen prince she had once been so utterly enthralled with, and yet she seemed to recall with vivid memory the same dishes she contemplated now as being served at the last nameday feast she had attended some twenty five years ago. She wondered if that made her a terrible person, and silently debated the subject as she reached across the table to at last sample a blueberry tart that had been calling her name. As soon as her teeth breached the flaky crust of the tart, she forgot all about her moral dilemma though. The verdict was in: she was a terrible person indeed. To her right sat her last remaining maiden daughter, strangely quiet given the occasion. “Perhaps she was also contemplating the ridiculous amount of food that covered the table, feeding already plump lords and ladies while an entire neighborhood in King's Landing starved, settling for the meat of rodents and the Seven only knew what else in their dreadful bowls of brown? No? It was just her then? "You’re awfully quiet this evening, my love.” Rowena spoke quietly, though the music was loud enough that she needn’t worry about anyone listening in even if she had spoken with her normal timbre. “Anything on your mind?” TAG GEMMA TYRELL __________________
Woman? Is that meant to insult me? I would return the slap, if I took you for a man. Last edited by degausser; 03-22-2015 at 11:32 PM |
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#75 | |||
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Elite Fan
Joined: Mar 2001
Posts: 40,449
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OOC: Okay, lunch took forever, but TA-DA! Profile 2 of 8!
NAME: Lord Axel Tully AGE: 56 HOUSE: Tully; serving House Targaryen as Hand of the King THEME SONG: "Cathedrals" - Jump Little Children PERSONALITY: Honorable, driven, mournful, protective, unrelenting THREE LIFE FACTS: * Some of those living in the vicinity of Riverrun when Axel was just a boy would tell him time and again that his house was experiencing a rebirth, and it would stay with him. He knew the stories, naturally, knew how close his forefathers had come to losing hold of Riverrun for good, just as he knew that they had, in time, regained what had been lost, what could be regained. Never had the words his house lived by been so vital to one of its members it seemed. Axel grew, and as he did he dedicated himself to making sure House Tully never fell again. He was the very picture of honor, a skilled fighter, never cruel, entirely dedicated to doing right by his kin without doing wrong onto others. Of his first marriage, there is little for him to say. Whether he ever loved his Mallister bride is debatable. They were wed, bedded... and bedded as often as was needed, but alas this resulted in nothing but three miscarriages and two stillborn daughters, the second taking her mother along on her way. Axel mourned them all with appropriate grief, though as always he had his house's words on the mind. * Never did this show more than in the years to follow, when he would remarry and, at last, become a father. He'd known for a time that his father sought to match him again, now to a daughter of the Vale, and while he didn't plan on doing anything to see this falter, he did not intend on being marched into a sept to meet his bride. So he rode for the Eyrie, and he made the long arduous climb, and there for the first time, even as he was being guided on the last of his journey, he saw her. He realized then and there that, had he met her only moments before they said the words, he would have felt then as he felt up in the Eyrie. It wasn't just Celyse Arryn's beauty, though of this she was in no short supply. But under that beauty there was something that sank namelessly into his heart and would not be unseated. The first time their eyes met, it was as though she could see it, too, saw how they would be wed and, before long, be blessed with those children that filled them with so much pride. Certainly the years that followed, at Riverrun, were the best and happiest of Axel's life. It was clear to see the pride he had for his son, just as he had for his brother's boy, and the doting love for his dear Rosamund... Then would come the day that would change his life and that of his entire family. He had been away, called to King's Landing at the King's request; he was to be made Hand. He was still in the midst of considering what this might mean for his House, when the small man arrived with the hasty word just pulled from a raven's leg: Return, Lord. Even as he rode to his horse's best, the words he'd read after this just didn't seem right. His wife, his love, was dead, drowned while their Rosamund remained, a wordless witness. He found her as soon as he reached home, and he didn't leave her again. * Leaving behind both Riverrun and his heir to take up the office that had been put onto him had been as much for Axel as it had been for his daughter. He didn't know exactly when his son had changed as he did, though he was content to assume it had come out of grief for his lady mother, and that looking after Riverrun in his stead would set him right again. Neither father nor daughter could look at the place anymore without thinking of what was missing. Now, Axel is today, as he has been for the past eight years he's held the post, an honorable Hand, a great ally to the King. But in his heart of hearts, he is a Tully first, and a father perhaps even higher so. He remembers the words, the first ones that ever mattered to him. Now, yes... it seems they have taken shape in the form of his Rosamund. She will be remembered, she will be the beginning of a new chapter for the Tullys. She will be Queen. RELATIONSHIPS: TBA TB: Starfield_Scribe PB: Peter Capaldi  |
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We’re all stories, in the end… just make it a good one, eh?
