𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘴

a starter blog for brokencrownsrp ! all open starters will be reblogged here for member acccess.

[ruinovs-deactivated20230919]

location :  winterfell  grounds  // @brokenstarters​

       HIS  BOOTS  TAPPING  ON  the  ground  in  time  with  the  melody  he  hummed  under  his  breath  greatly  impeded  his  attempt  to  be  stealthy.  a  knife  in  one  hand,  apple  in  another,  the  sharpest  edge  piercing  the  skin  of  the  fruit  &  leaving  it  in  spiraling  curls  onto  the  ground.  baeryn  looked  up  for  a  moment,  before  flicking  his  wrist  &  slicing  pieces  of  the  apple  &  popping  them  into  his  mouth,  still  humming  snatches  of  a  song  with  his  head  bobbing  along.  “  if  you’ve  come  to  ask  more  questions,  i’ve  already  answered  all  the  i  know.  you’ll  simply  have  to  wait  until  i  am  finished  with  my  lunch. ”

[fulminari]

@brokenstarters​​ // open for anyone

                    ˙ ˖ ˙ ˖   the days were draining nadyra of all she had. she lacked the energy   &&   confidence she was typically full of. her mind was failing her ;  nowhere was safe, who could she trust ?  the answer was the same as always      ━━      no one. there were two many people in one place, how could she possibly keep tabs on them all ?  she couldn’t. if it was as simple as that, why couldn’t she sit back   &&   relax for once ? 

her heavy eyelids closed as she leaned against the wall behind her. she takes a deep breath, trying to clear her mind. it was racing with questions. it was trying to connect the dots. but it couldn’t do that if she couldn’t focus on one thing at a time. though, it seems the gods forbid nadyra from having a moment of peace, for as soon as her mind is steady, she feels a pair of eyes burning straight through her. 

❝   haven’t you been taught that staring isn’t polite ?   ❞   she snaps, opening her eyes to glare at the person standing above her. 

[starfll]

                     SHE  HAS  NEVER  SEEN  THE  CORRIDORS  OF  WINTERFELL so absolutely  teeming  with  people . safety  in  numbers ,  she  supposes .   what  has  served  dyanna  as  a  thoroughfare  between  one  location  and   the  next (  she  had  studied  maps  of  winterfell  prior  to  her  arrival  ,  to  ensure  extreme  familiarity  ) is  now   an  obstacle   she  must  overcome .  the   westerosi  lords  &  ladies  walk   at   a  snail’s  pace  . &  in such  close  proximity  that  it  is  impossible  to  pass through  without  a gentle  shove  or the  clearing  of  the  throat . with  a  roll of  her  eyes , she  tucks  a  missive  into  her  bodice   and searches  for an opening.

                                 ❛ pardon me ,  ❜ she  begins ,  seeing  her  pathway  of  escape   just beyond  the  individual , dornish  accent  lilting  off  of  her  tongue .  she   masks  her  annoyance  with  a  placid  smile    ❛ might i pass ? ❜

@brokenstarters​

[ruinovs-deactivated20230919]

open to all / @brokenstarters​

     HOPING  TO  BE PERCEIVED  as  quiet  as  a  church  mouse,  valyria  shot  a  furtive  glance  over  her  shoulder  as  she  crept  through  the  halls  &  down  into  the  kitchens.  the  atmosphere  was  tense  enough  that  one  could  cut  the  air  with  a  knife,  &  the  princess  was  hoping  that  there  wouldn’t  be  anyone  near  that  would  give  her  a  second  glance.  it  seemed  a  lofty  dream  given  the  circumstances,  the  banner  clutched  in  the  hand  of  the  maester.  to  creep  along  as  if  she  had  ill  intentions  was  a  horrid  idea,  but  as  valyria  entered  the  kitchens,  the  warm  fire  to  ward  off  the  chill,  it  was  hardly  given  another  thought.  that  was,  until  she  spotted  another.  “  good  evening, ”  came  her  soft  greeting,  clearing  her  throat  in  the  chance  they  hadn’t  heard  her.  “  i  don’t  wish  to  intrude,  i  only  hoped  to  grab  a  bit  of  refreshment. ”  eating  her  feelings  again.

[fhiosaiche]

𝐖𝐇𝐎    [   …   ]    embry stark   &   open   ( @brokenstarters​ )

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄    [   …   ]    a supposedly hidden passageway within winterfell. 

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍    [   …   ]    days after the coronation and well into the lockdown.

it should be equivocal to business as usual    -    or at least,    that was what he’d been told.    winterfell had always been his home,    what difference would it make if he weren’t allowed to leave it?    the difference it made grew larger with each passing minute,    already as wide as an ocean and threatening to expand each time his eyes waivered to the walls.    to be clear,    embry’d understood why such a thing was necessary    -    the lives of his family at stake,    surely,    no cost was too great;    no task too much to be handled so long as answers were received.    but it’s stifling here.    surrounded by people who know too much about him,    about his affairs   -    people who’d grown tired of his smiles and laughter days ago.    he’d grown tired of them,    too.    he’s never felt so thankful for his knowledge of the grounds,    for untraveled passageways and the ability to slip past others into areas of comfort and solitude. 

soft footfalls,    carefully placed    -    embry’s on a mission for fresh air,    for the crunch of twigs and snow beneath his boots.    one hall and then the next,    a flight of stairs leading down,    down,    down    …    and then a pause,    because it should be empty.    but it isn’t.    forward momentum stopped altogether,    he leans back against the stone wall of the room,    arms crossed over the expanse of his chest before he clears his throat and makes his presence known.    “    you know,    i don’t believe you’re supposed to be down here.    ”    there’s a teasing lilt to his tone,    one that encompasses embry’s being and blossoms into a smile on his mouth.    “    ah,    but it’s just so easy to get lost here,    is it not?    ”

[deeperthanswcrds]

open starter @brokenstarters​ | smol starters

“I find peace in the old Gods. I’ve notice many people coming here to plot and hide but you can’t hide from the Old ones. They’re always watching, all around us.” Anthor would proudly say he was a man of the Rock but he found a strange peace when sitting in the Godswood. Peace and privacy. “Are you lost? Or, more surprisingly, were you looking for me?” He rose from the ground, dusting off his trousers, “either way, I can help you or leave you to your privacy.” 

[mallreat-deactivated20210411]

open. @brokenstarters​

    She enjoyed the weather, the outside purely offered freedom dark walls couldn’t. Yet the events of the coronation were echoing even in the open. No one could imagine such a bold move, Isadora felt bad for the king and queen. Starting a reign with such a bang. Her lips twitched, her mind starting to stir ideas of what was to come. Her gaze slowly lifted from the spot on the ground, lining itself up to anothers. “Oh –” She stood up quickly, offering a more polite smile. “–I hadn’t realized anyone joined… such a nice day after intense nights.”

[madefantasy]

who: brannon lefford & anyone  ( @brokenstarters​ ) when: two days after king edric stark’s coronation where: outside of the small council room, winterfell

brannon stepped outside of the council room, rubbing his temples. they’d all agreed that a short respite was well needed, following the hours of ardent debate and discussion they’d engaged in following the assassination attempt at the coronation. “ is there something i can help you with? ” he asked, addressing them by their correct title. before they could begin demanding that they needed to speak with the king & queen, brannon preemptively put a stop to that with a single raised eyebrow. “ i can assure you, whatever it is that you think you need to say to king edric or queen freyja, you may tell me. ”

[fulminari]

( open ! ) // @brokenstarters​

          ˙ ˖ ˙ ˖   vyla sat with her elbows resting on her knees as she watched her two daughters run around the open courtyard, a thin cloth draped over her shoulders. her daughters, laena   &&   clare, were always so full of energy      ━━      something vyla never had. not anymore. it was rare vyla brought her children with her to work but her mother had fallen ill   &&   she had no other choice but to bring them along for the day. she quickly rose to her feet as she spotted her two-year-old run straight into someone. immediately, she ran over   &&   scooped the child into her arms, apologies falling from her lips.

❝   i– i’m so sorry,   ❞   she sputtered out,   ❝   she doesn’t usually act this way.   ❞   that was a lie. the child loved to run about aimlessly, knocking into everything   &&   anything that crossed her path.   ❝   please, forgive us.   ❞     

[fulminari]

( open ! ) // @brokenstarters​

              ˙ ˖ ˙ ˖   eldyn sat slumped over a table, body heavy with exhaustion   &&   mind riddled with confusion. the events of the night before left him feeling emotions he never knew existed. he’d spent the entire night thinking about what went wrong   &&   by the time he was ready to get some rest, the sun was already beginning to rise. his eyes were bloodshot   &&   his shoulders held a great deal of stress. eldyn’s eyelids were beginning to shut when he heard someone approach him from behind. sitting up, he turned to look at the person behind him.

❝   morning’s come quick, hasn’t it ?   ❞   the fatigue was clear in his voice, eyelids still droopy. if only he hadn’t been interrupted. 

[stormxblooded]

@brokenstarters​

Open To All 

Tristan had never done particularly well when under constraint. Being under lockdown in Winterfell was, undeniably, a constraint, one that had his skin itching and his nerves on edge. Not since he had first returned to Wayfarer’s Rest had he last felt like this, as though there was nowhere to run. He sat in the library now. It wouldn’t be his usual choice of venue, but without a change of scenery,he felt he would grow honestly and truly mad. 

It wouldn’t hold him forever, wouldn’t keep him satisfied for long, but it was enough for now. Tristan sat upon his chair, long legs crossed at the ankles, book in hand. A rare sight. The Lord could not remember the last time he had so much as glanced at a book - perhaps back before he had left the Riverlands the first time around, for reading certainly did not take up much of his time in The Free Cities. 

Tristan heard the tell-tale sounds of footsteps upon the stone floor. There was never a moment of peace in Winterfell, and though he usually preferred to be alone, he was finding himself more and more grateful of that fact. Snapping the book shut, he raised his head, surveying the newcomer thoughtfully. 

“Have you come to tell me they have found the culprits, and we can all go home? I’m afraid my mood won’t much improve unless that’s the case.”

[madefantasy]

who: princess joanna stark & anyone!  ( @brokenstarters​ ) when: the morning after king edric stark’s coronation where: the training yard, winterfell

joanna rose before the sun that morning , her mind still lingering on the event of edric’s coronation. how could it not ? someone had made an attempt on her brother’s life in their own home. winterfell was the place for starks - the place to keep the pack safe. it was the south was dangerous, where the good lords & ladies would welcome you to their home one moment & thrust a dagger through your heart the next. 

the same good lords & ladies that now resided within these halls, plotting her family’s downfall behind closed doors. 

it was why she found herself in the training yard now, swinging her sword at the practice dummies. a vain attempt at pulling her thoughts away from the horrible events of last night & to focus. on what, she wasn’t sure. that would come later. now, she whirled around the yard, her moves careful and deliberate. it was a dance , almost. instead of a lord or lady in her arms it was her steel. instead of embroidered slippers and a ballroom, there were her leather boots, and the clouds of grey dust that billowed in the sky whenever she leapt or knicked.  

joanna spun around, bringing her blade atop the head of a training dummy. “ sorry old fellow. it was nothing personal. but in my defense you were in my way. ” joanna laughed and pried her sword out of the splintered wood. beneath a cloud of dark curls, she saw that someone was watching her.  “care to join me ? i’d love some more practice.” joanna grinned at her audience of one. “ or are you intent on simply watching? ”

[madefantasy]

who: rhiannon allsbrook & anyone ( @brokenstarters​ ) when: a few days after king edric stark’s coronation  where: the kitchens of winterfell

knife in hand, rhiannon traced markings into what would become loaves of bread, turning the flat dough, speckled with dried fruits & nuts, into snarling direwolves. try as she may, she couldn’t push the events of king edric’s coronation from her mind. she wasn’t there - thank the mother. she wasn’t sure she could stomach it. but still, she had regarded winterfell as a place of safety, of refuge. so many did. there was something on the horizon, a disturbance of the peace she had grown accustomed to in the silvery north.

the stories tell of the legendary knights, the kings & princes that waged war against one another. they did not tell of the thousands of unnamed smallfolk that died in the name of the good lords quest for power. she glanced around at the the kitchen, at the countless others bent at work, who gossipped and teased amongst themselves, interrupted by the occasional bubble of screaming laughter. how many of them would survive another war?

would any?

pulled from her musings by the arrival of someone, standing in the doorway of the kitchens, rhiannon made her way over there. “ hello !” she began, addressing them by their title as she swiped her hands on her apron. “ is there anything i could fetch you? ”

[deeperthanswcrds]

open starter @brokenstarters​

On occasion he could look around and see there was something wonderful about the grounds of Winterfell. Something wonderful and haunting all the same, he wondered what ghost called these walls their home. Which ghost walked alongside the living as if their live never ended, how long would it take for them to become the sort of vengeful spirits that left behind sordid tales of hauntings and history that would write them off. Daemon believed that death didn’t end their lives, especially for the men that died out of reach of their Gods. Restless spirits, many lands and fields of battle would forever be haunted by those that lost their lives and cried to open skies for mercy. Begged for their mothers. 

The North allowed too much time for introspection and that kind of thinking could only lead him to memories that made him feel strange. Memories of his brother, memories of being on high seas and fighting men with faces. Taking a pride in destroying pirates and leaving their ships to burn and their sails to be forgotten forever. The cost of losing at sea was far greater but that was just the mind of someone so one tracked. 

“I’m over everything here.” He was losing his patience with the North. Maybe it was the ingrained hatred of Starks. His parents were certain to put into his head that anyone that called themselves a King without the blood of the dragon wasn’t someone to trust. But, in his experience Starks and Northmen were…unpleasant but somehow likable all the same. The weather was softening him. It was official. If he stayed any longer he would find himself starting to like these people. 

[jeyned]

@brokenstarters​

         the sky is pitch, scattered with stars. it’s late in the evening, but the castle remains well alive, guards wary, nervous and angry at their stations, the scullery still busy as every night, and somewhere in a tower, the king’s council is huddled around a table speaking of war and omens. but most of winterfell’s many guests have taken to their chambers, leaving an empty and anxious quiet to settle, across the castle, soft and smothering as fresh snow. she shouldn’t be out, knows better than to be, but the upheaval has stirred up a storm within her ; angry, anxious, and hopeful in turns, terrified and yet curious more than anything. a heavy heart, a mind weighed down, not the sort of thing to bring with her to the bedchamber. so instead, jeyne walks the castle walls, half-hidden in shadow and imagines herself a lion, prowling, looking out into the darkness as if through bars of a cage.

         it sounds better than the truth, anyway. a lion wouldn’t be hiding out in the cold, too fearful, to restless to retreat to its den. lost in thought, in self-indulgent misery and scheming, she fails to notice another’s presence, until a noise startles her from her reverie. she jumps — a genuine spasm of fear accompanied by a rather undignified yelp — and is immediately, crushingly embarrassed.

         “ you shouldn’t sneak up on people like that ! it’s a dangerous venture at the best of times, and besides, it’s rude, ” she blusters, almost scolding, trying to cover her shame with indignation, ignoring the cold fear that still lingers, battering relentlessly at her heart.

[bcautyknxves]

Where: The Great Hall, Winterfell

Open starter for the coronation banquet event!

She entered the great hall with poise and grace that she knew some wouldn't expect of a Greyjoy. She seated herself at one of the many long tables and requested ale instead of wine. Though the great hall was noisy with chatter and music, the people around her who heard her request gazed at her with questioning looks. A Queen drinking ale?

Layna ignored their gazes and started eating the food that had been brought out. The Kraken Queen wasn't very fond of wolves but they knew how to host a celebration, she would at least give them that.

Her ale had arrived and she heartily drank it down just like she did back home on the Iron Islands. The ale was definitely stronger than the one back home. It tasted pretty good. She soon started chugging it as if she were the only one in the room with her cup of ale.

She put her cup down before she wiped her mouth with her napkin. She looked up and saw others staring at her.

She smiled and finally spoke. "Find anything fascinating yet? You all stare so hard, one would think your eyes would pop from their sockets. Ever seen a Queen chug ale before?" She asked teasingly as her smile turned into a smirk.

[araela-baratheon-deactivated202]

Location: Godswood Open starter

Araela smiled at her husband and took his hand to kiss his fingers. “I need to stretch my legs and I will not go far,” she told him. “Try not to hurt any more knights, please? We don’t want to start a war,” The Lady of Storm’s End added with a smirk. Her husband had challanged to any knight who wanted to test his strenght against him and so far he had been victorious but she loved to remind him that he could find his match here in the North. “Southerners are not as fragile as people want t think, specially not House Baratheon,” he told her. Araela just shook his head and took her cloak that one of her handmaidens offered to her. “I’ll be alright, enjoy the charms of this land,” she told the young girl before leaving her tent.

The Lady was no stranger to the cold, but the rumors were true and nothing could compare to the bite of the North and the wind that was now blowing. She pulled her red cloak closer to her and walked around the other tents to then. Her footsteps lead her to a very special place she had been curious to know, the Godswood, having heard so many stories about it. The red leaves of the tree in the center were as red as the fabric of her cloak and she stared at them for a few moments to then looked down and give a small jump when she saw a shadow. “I’m really sorry, I did not see you,” Araela said to the figure that was there. “I did not mean to disturb your prayers.”