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Discoholic 🪩
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@allyricn-blog
so...i disappeared off of the face of the earth for awhile. i updated my computer and lost my passwords for pretty much everything but!!! i recently found them again! so hello! the next few days are gonna be dedicated to me cleaning up rhoya and making her info more cohesive.
♥︎ for a starter ! !
@steeledstark ♥︎’d this for a starter
“ LADY STARK. “ rhoya’s voice is clear, the dornish accent softened by time spent in the capital. her own voice, crafted by blazing sun and scorching sand, molded from THOUSANDS of years of culture clash and integration- gone now and as foreign to her as the food and dress she found here, so far from home. one more thing that the northern lands had taken. she had HOPED to find a kindred spirit in the flame-haired stark girl. where the north remembered, the south did not forget and she was growing tired of the games lannisters played in baratheon halls. so too, she hoped, was she. “ HOW FARE YOU? “
♥︎ for a starter ! !
♥︎ for a starter ! !
i can’t make graphics but if you want to interact with a priv & sel dornish got oc written by bee then HERE I AM; I’M YOUR’S
LYRA
She doesn’t like Westerosi politics; she never has, though she has learned to navigate them with caution. There are more important battles to be waged than the ones to determine who’s body sits on the ashes of the iron throne. Otherwise she’d happily spend the long night secluded in the north among fires and furs.
“I have, thank you, my lady.” She cannot deny Godsgrace is beautiful. Dorne is in general, minus the arid sands. She hardly knows a life outside of constant cold. She can’t help but think Lyanna would be better suited to this, however, but Lyra is well aware of the limitations of her cousin’s young age. On top of which, there are preparations to be done in the north to help secure Winterfell.
“I also want to thank you for granting us permission to come. To be here, in your halls. House Mormont and to more effect, House Stark, are eager to arrange a more stable common ground between us besides the words on letters carried by ravens. To that – I’ve come to ask for your help.”
“our help.” rhoya echoes lady mormont’s words, voice and face betraying nothing. she’d been born to this, political maneuvering and the grace it took to negotiate. she took it all in stride, as she’d been taught to, emotions sitting far below the surface where she’d hoped they could cause her no trouble. she should’ve known better. house allyrion was NOTHING if not VINDICTIVE. “answer me this, LADY MORMONT. where was the north’s help when my lady elia was slaughtered in her bed? that monster was allowed to walk free because of your lord and he crushed my prince’s head between his hands. ” the lady’s voice was cool as iron and just as hard, despite her placid face. it was not the woman before her’s fault, this she knew. they’d both been but toddling children during robert’s rebellion, but the memories of the dornish were long, and their great house was extinct. “we are not so different, you and i. the NORTH REMEMBERS, but the SOUTH DOES NOT FORGET, nor so easily forgive. dornishmen die when they go north. why should i help the wolf king?”
very hesitant promo
hello, this is secret santa! Just wanted to wish you HAPPY 1ST OF DECEMBER (it here anyways) ! Hope you're doing ok! *sending all of the festive vibes your way* 🎂🎄🎉🎈☃️⛄🌬❄☄
aw, this is so sweet! thank you!
“ Listen to the waves , let them wash away your pain. ”
@allyricn // lyric sc. // fantasy | alina baraz
“all the oceans in the WORLD won’t take this cup from me.” the allyrions had loved their lords. for centuries on end they had served as bannermen to the martells, from the time that the andals had first landed on the southern tip of westeros. through centuries lost and wars innumerable they had followed, loyal unto death. dorne had never been conquered, she remembered her father saying. they served the crown out of respect for the martells, but THERE WERE NO MORE MARTELLS. and so, the flame of the goldfist had died, smothered by the throne. daenerys had lit it once more. westerosi she may have been, but the lady rhoya had the blood of DORNE in her veins and her people had never forgotten elia. if the mother of dragons would have her, she would show her the same loyalty. “-but SERVICE might.”
RICKON (continued from here)
house allyrion. the STARK boy had long ago learned about this. their words sounded like, No Foe May Pass. –––– he still remembers his father telling him this. and deep in his mind, he could see the coat of arms –– he remembers thinking it looked funny. shaggydog and RICKON had travled far, are felt like they never stopped running. it had to be some truth to that, since he could not reacall the last time he truly felt safe. not ever here could he feel safe. so when the woman spoke, it did not surprise him. it only made him feel defeted. no place in the wolrd seemed to be for him anymore. not anymore, not without his family. he wanted his mother, and father – he wished for ROBB to be there with him. BRAN to tall him everything would be okay. none of these things would ever happen. so with a brave face, and eyes ready to sleep he nodded “alright” he shispered.
the boy nodded his assent and rhoya issued a sharp nod back, mouth fixed in a firm line. STARKS were in short supply these days and it seemed like the whole of the seven kingdoms were hunting wolves. he would not be safe here at the edge of the reach where the grass had just begun to grow sparse and yellow. no, rickon stark was far from home and friendless save for the dire wolf that trotted at his side. the lady reached into her saddle bag and produce a hunk of brown bread and a thick wedge of cheese wrapped in red fabric, offering it to the boy. he looked thin and past the point of exhaustion and she felt, not for the first time, a fierce sense of ANGER toward the crown. murderers, they were. she had NOT FORGOTTEN her lord oberyn or her lady elia. they would not do the same to the stark boy. “EAT. when you are done, we ride for DORNE.”
despite the obvious connotations of her nickname, rhoya ‘the goldfist’ allyrion did not earn her title by helping hold dorne in any major battles. she was given this name instead as a joke in her youth because of her penchant for throwing money at her problems.
A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE / GAME OF THRONES COMMUNITY WIDE SECRET SANTA
‘ what is this katya? ‘ you may be asking- - - so come friend, lets sit by the fire && enjoy a warm drink while I explain you the thing…
in the spirit of spreading holiday cheer && positivity all around, im putting on another secret santa this season. first of all, this is about giving back && showing appreciation. it doesnt matter what holiday you celebrate or if you don’t celebrate at all; this is ALL INCLUSIVE for the asoiaf / got rpc.
HOW TO JOIN:
must be following me
must LIKE && REBLOG this post; just likes won’t be considered as joining
must be active && will remain through 25th December
must be part of the a song of ice and fire / game of thrones rp community
RULES:
the person you are to be a ‘secret santa’ for will be assigned on 29th November ( via IM / inbox from me )
anonymously send your assigned partner something to their inbox AT MINIMUM three times a week starting 1st December ; this can be positivity, questions about their muse, headcanon or meta prompts, etc.
between 24th && 26th of December, you will reveal yourself to your partner && send them their ‘gift’ ; gifts can be edits, a promo, icons, a mobile header, some fan fiction && so on ( being a photoshop wizard is NOT required )
if you can’t be active or meet the minimum requirement please don’t join. it isn’t fair to have some people doing the minimum or more && others hardly participating at all. if something happens where you suddenly can’t be as active or know you will have a few days you can’t be here, message me as soon as possible
easy enough, right? lets just get together && celebrate each other, the community && that winter is here!
Dorne is sweltering.
She’s worn the lightest clothing she can and it still feels far too much for the climate; Lyra already longs for the chill of the north. She’s here as an envoy though, and true to form Lyra bears the title seriously. So she endures. And smiles while at it. House Allyrion is key to securing help from the South for the wars to come – if this goes well, other Dornish houses might follow.
Her men are seen to and she’s allowed to freshen up in guest rooms before she sees fit to present herself in the great hall. Her body aches from riding so long, but in a good way she’s more than familiar with; she’s heard tell of the warriors here at Goldfist and a small part of her hopes they’ll be her willing sparring partners for the duration of her stay.
Lyra Mormont, while no proper lady, gives a warm and kind smile.
“Lady Rhoya. A pleasure.”
the obliteration of house martell had left dorne in a state of political upheavel the south had never seen. through rhoynar invasions and targaryen conquerors, the martells had stood, wardens of the south, unchanging. that was over now. at the head of the great hall of godsgrace sat the lady RHOYA. with her grandmother in sunspear attending to negotiations with the other high lords, and her father at yronwood amassing troops with her grand father, she’d been left in charge of hosting the northern delegations. she was no stranger to diplomacy, though what the northern woman wanted, she was not sure she could grant. the door the the great hall swung open and the sleeping great cat at her feet lifted it’s head, regarded the woman at the door and yawned lazily. her guest had arrived. “-LADY MORMONT. welcome to godsgrace. i trust you’ve settled well?”
im hot
H ard to love O bnoxious T errible
SHIREEN
─ were things done different in dorne? on greenstone, gifts were treated with SUSPICION, especially when coming from a stranger one has only just met. lips part to deny earning any respect from the other but she knows that she has accomplished quite a bit for a woman her age - for a woman in westeros, in general. knows that she has earned the respect that she so readily DEMANDS from men yet does not expect from women. in her mind, a woman worth respecting was one who could be both poised and dangerous and she was only one of those things. she still have much learning to do. “i…i suppose it would be RUDE to refuse.” and she did not want to return to the chattering of teeth. the captain would simply have to find another way to return the favour - perhaps a gift from across the narrow sea might find it’s way to the dornish woman’s rooms one day. “i would like to know your name, my lady, to THANK you properly for such a kind gift.”
“-i am rhoya.” she said. “of GODSGRACE.” her name and title carried little weight this far north, leagues away from her family’s seat of power, but it still gave her comfort to say it aloud. it made her stand a little straighter and the wind bite at her a little less. “thank you for accepting. i half feared i’d have to chase you round the harbor trying to warm you.” the dornishwoman was only half joking. she’d taken a vested interest in the well-being of the captain and decided, quite suddenly and entirely by herself, that they were to be friends. “what brings you to the north? seeking fortune or following obligation?”
