// *THE DEMON OF BLACKTYDE

i love her for what she has dared to be, for her hardness, her cruelty, her egoism, her perverseness, her demoniac destructiveness. she would crush me to ashes without hesitation. she is a personality created to the limit. i worship her courage to hurt, and i am willing to be sacrificed to it. she will add the sum of me to her. | menta pyke | lady captain of the iron fleet | dependent | dracaryshq |

[demcncf]

ofkarhxld‌:

The entire conversation felt …. odd, to Alys. She could feel the other woman fishing, searching for something with her not-so-casual conversation, but for what? For a moment, Alys wonders if she’s met the other woman before, but she feels comfortably certain that she has not. Of course, Alys could hardly be expected to ask, to clarify - she could not risk such a moment of weakness, any implication that she is anything less than the perfect little lady. “It’s all beautiful - the Bay of Seals, the Bite. Though it will be many years until their navigable again, I’m sure - everything north of the Neck is frozen by now.”

Alys feels her lips twist at the thinly veiled insult, feeling anger flare. Cold though the North was, her temper burned hot, and she thanked the gods that she’d learned to control it since gaining ahold of Karhold. She refused to rise to the bait, but she couldn’t quite help commenting on it. “Most women have no reason to, in most of the kingdoms.”

Of course this stranger had latched on to her slip; Alys cursed herself again for not watching her words better. “Yes. I had three. They all fought for the King in the North - for Robb Stark,” she explained, words short and clipped. Her discomfort is clear, and she knows her best efforts would not be able to hide it - so, for once, she does not try to. “The Lannisters killed them all.”

          “A shame, but not the end of the world.” Menta sighed, with a somewhat heavy heart. It was a feat that she would truly love to attempt, but the aforementioned political restraints already held her back. At least the ice was a decent excuse, if nothing else.

          Small signs began to give away her frustration, and perhaps a hint of anger, which was exactly what she wanted. And unlike this Northern flower, Menta was unafraid to show it. A mere quirk of the lips at first, but her demeanour continued to shift to match her growing grin. “Then when your Lords leave and your land is attacked, who truly holds the power. You, or your generals?”

          The mention of her brothers being lost hit a nerve within the Iron Islander, and she felt her entire demeanour drop for a moment. “The Lannisters are bastards, I think the entire 7 Kingdoms can agree on that, if little else.” She spat. Not that she had anything personally against the family, but she would much prefer her venom be spent on a popular opinion that she barely held than show true weakness where it mattered. “Robb was a good man though, I’ll give him that much. Foolish, but well meaning.”

          “...My brother died too, you know. Not in the war, he was just incredibly ill. But I know your pain, whatever consolation that might be.”

[demcncf]

“ So have no fear,

and don't look back,

the afterlife awaits ! ”

- Alestorm, Captain Morgan’s Revenge

[machiavellianminds]

“Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt.”

— Sun Tzu

[panicmuseroom]

ʏᴏᴜ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴍᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ɪ ʜᴇᴀʀᴅ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴀꜰʀᴀɪᴅ ᴏꜰ

ᴍᴏɴꜱᴛᴇʀꜱ.

[cambulac99]

[demcncf]

ofkarhxld‌:

With a slight smirk on her lips, Alys nodded her agreement. “The rivers in the North are nothing, compared to this.” Karhold rested on a tributary of the Shivering Sea, and though she had always found the frigid waters beautiful, the Blackwater Bay felt like a whole other beast.

A sinking feeling gripped her stomach at the mention of the battle. Though she knew the carnage laid heavy on her mind, on everyone’s mind, when speaking of the Bay, it was still a topic she’d rather not discuss. Alys was no soldier, but she had known her share of bloodshed, of horrors, and though the idea of battle did not phase her the way it would many others, it dredged up memories she’d rather choke back. Steeling herself, shoulders tensed, she turned to face the other woman.

She must be an Iron Islander, Alys thought, taking in her companion, or perhaps a wildling. Few other women would speak of war with such intimate knowledge. “I must admit, I know little of battle tactics,” she mused, lips pursing. All discomfort was choked down, face schooled as always to hide her emotions. But she had to admit - “if nothing else, wildfire was certainly effective.”

“I am lucky my brothers were not a part of it.” The words slip from her lips as they cross her mind. Her own frankness startles her, for a moment, and then she scoffed. Lucky. As if they had not reached the same fate regardless.

          “You know, I’ve never actually sailed in the North. Perhaps one day I should attempt it.” As much as she enjoyed her title and place, it did come with some restrictions. One of which was being with the fleet as much as possible. If she left and went mysteriously missing, or was gone when the fleet was needed - for whatever reason - then they would be left leaderless. Of course, they could always elect a temporary leader as required, but not only would that undermine her power, but it would also reflect negatively on her as a captain. And despite the restrictions that had been placed on their raiding, which she had studiously followed, the well known flags being seen too far outside of that small area allowed to them would surely raise more concerns than the Greyjoys would like.

          Her reaction was particularly boring. Menta had expected tears, some kind of sentimentality. Perhaps a reply within the same vein, as unlikely as that would have been. That would have at least earned her respect. But instead all she recieved was the same cold, political mask that everyone appeared to wear inland. “Most women do not, shameful as that may be. But at least we can see eye to eye on something.”

          The comment about her brothers was certainly a step in the right direction; or wrong, depending on who was asked. A sudden wave of emotion seemed to run through her, but was halted just as quickly. Her interest was peaked, if not yet satiated. Sut satisfaction seemed to lie within the topic of her siblings. “Your brothers?”

[demcncf]

demcncf‌:

time: evening

event: feast & ball

          Menta had to admit that she always found some level of amusement in these gatherings. Celebrating the coronation of a man nobody believed would truly be a good king couldn’t interest her less. But the tension in the air, subtle and blatant insults biting with every breat,  the over-drinking to compensate from the lack of ‘adequate’ and ‘safe’ topics of conversation. She enjoyed waiting in the corners of the room, sipping at her wine and just waiting for the first blade to be drawn to cut the tension. And if that blade was her own, well, more fun for her.

          Although, such events were far more amusing within the confines of her own culture. Irritatingly, despite her title - and the considerable seat of power she held - her name seemed to weigh far more heavily on her relevance here than it ever had on the Iron Islands. Their mistake, she supposed, to underestimate her, but it was difficult to get much enjoyment out of watching and waiting without an ounce of the fear or respect she felt she was owed, or was in fact use to.

          “If I hear one more smug utterance of ‘Pyke’ then somebody is losing their tongue, royalty or not.”

[demcncf]

thesteelstag‌:

“Uh,” Gendry muttered as his gaze flickered back to the man on the ground. He hadn’t known what he was walking into when he heard the sound of sparring but he hadn’t expected that. “I guess-” He replied. “Impressive.”

          Menta merely smirked before sheathing her blade. Turning to the man currently rolling onto his hands and knees on the ground, she at least extended the curtosy of an arm, which he took. Once he was up, she gave him a quick - if harder than he seemed to have anticipated - slap on the back before approaching the other man.

          “I don’t believe we’ve met. Lady Captain Menta Pyke, of the Iron Fleet,” she grinned, extending a hand.

[onceuponamusing]

““There is a devil in you, my lord!” the servant cried. “There are devils in all of us,” he sneered, “You only fear mine because it calls to the one in you.””

— Make friends with your demons, son; there are no angels here. (Excerpt from Fornever) | m.a.w (via dvoyd)

[dvoyd]

child born                   with a storm    for a soul where the    lightning                              strikes the     sea                  yours is a     savage sort of beauty

but weep not                     for those                     lost          in your wake

like nature, like you, they too               will come back—

                                 ( better,                                               stronger )

[periodi-neri-spettacolari]

Khutulun, Marco Polo season 2

[demcncf]

periodi-neri-spettacolari: Khutulun, Marco Polo season 2

[selvouth]

“He watched war like a spectator watching two masters play a game of chess.”

He watched, and he learned.

[onceuponamusing]

                                           I  AM  BEAST.

                                            I  AM  CLAW                                        AND  I  AM  FANG.

                                         WHEN  I  SNARL                                    THEY  RUN  AND  HIDE.

                                         WHEN  I  HOWL                                    THEY  CRY  MY  NAME.

                                  “ BEAST ! ”

[artemisiatargaryen]

[demcncf]

♔ 「  claudia kim , cis female , she/her , bisexual 」 →  we proudly present MENTA PYKE , the LADY CAPTAIN OF THE IRON FLEET of THE IRON ISLANDS.  they are TWENTY-SIX years old and can often be described as ALERT and ADAPTABLE.  but whispers betray that they’re also VIOLENT and VOLATILE.  many know that their allegiance lies with THE IRON FLEET , however , when their songs sing of A WOMAN BORN OF THE WAVES and THE DEMON OF BLACKTYDE.  fate has currently placed them in kings landing due to THE CORONATION OF THE KING. will they win their game? or die trying?

CHARACTER INFORMATION

FACECLAIM: Claudia Kim

DISTINCTIVE FEATURES: Long, black hair, usually somehow braided; dark brown eyes; athletic; numerous scars & callouses from battle, training and labour aboard ships; 5'10"

FULL NAME: Menta Pyke

ALLEGIANCE(S): House’s Blacktyde & Greyjoy (in name only), The Iron Fleet

TITLE/OCCUPATION: Lady Captain of the Iron Fleet

MARITAL STATUS: Single

SEXUALITY: Bisexual

AGE: 26

CHARACTER ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Neutral

MBTI: INTJ (The Architect)

RELIGION: The Drowned God

RELATIONS: Lord Baelor of House Blacktyde (father), Ji (mother, deceased), Dain Blacktyde (eldest half-brother, deceased)

BIOGRAPHY

                  It seems to some that Menta was born of blood and death, as when she came into this world her mother - a salt wife from Yi Ti of the ruling lord of house Blacktyde - sadly left it. However, this may have worked in her favour. With the lord being her last living blood relative, save her half siblings, she was acknowledged seemingly immediately, and raised alongside her lord brothers as a lady within her own right.

                  However, despite the commonality of such an upbringing among the ironmen, the family was well aware that such sentiments did not span the seven kingdoms. While the typical goal with the only daughter would be to marry her off to another noble house, there were few higher than the Blacktydes themselves who would be willing to wed a bastard. Even those who would may be weary of the implications within the eyes of their fellow nobles. Thus, for as long as she can recall, Menta has been allowed the freedom to do more or less as she wished; to follow the path she chose.

                   This lead to her largely trailing after her eldest brother. Fascinated by his own training as heir, she decided that she wanted to be trained similarly. But she soon found herself tiring of some of the more political aspects. Instead, she found a fascination with battle, swords and sailing. Most of her days were spent training outdoors or in docked ships.

                    While this appeared abnormal to some of their more tender guests, there was little complaint. Having always had strong opinons, and a violent temper to match, the young lady was quickly found to be truly a child of the ocean. Calm one moment, and stormy the next. The slighest offence could lead to injury, and as she was often left to entertain her fellow girls, they would quickly find themselves to be overpowered. Thus, the more physical distractions provided by such training were more than welcome, from both her own family and others.

                    It was this interest that lead to her eventual work on her families ships. And it was a combination of hard work and talent that allowed her to climb up the ranks, until she eventually impressed the Greyjoys themselves and found herself being honoured with the title of Lady Captain, a role she takes very seriously.

[demcncf]

          Finding herself in dire need of a break from the monotony that she had found to be King’s Landing, Menta was somehow able to conivnce some poor soul to spar with her. Their own fault, really, for being foolish enough to do so, but she wasn’t going to complain. Better an easy win then spending one more moment drinking in cesspools or associating herself with aristcrats who couldn’t tell their mainmast from their foremast.

          But those were distractions for later, the biting complaints she would use to get herself through another overly-pleasent dinner. For now, she turned her attention to the sweat that dripped from her brow as she swung her blade once more, ducking away as her partner attempted to counter. Using their newfound positions to her own advatnage, she thrust the hilt of her blade into his stomach, knocking him to the ground and stealing the breath from his lungs. With a chuckle, she took a few steps backwards, twirling her blade with an abundant air of confidence as her tongue ran across her teeth. Lifting the hem of her shirt to wipe away at the moisture that clung to her forehead, the sight of an approaching figure gave her pause. “Come to enjoy the show?”

[demcncf]

ofkarhxld‌:

When she was a girl, Alys’ brothers loved to try and scare her. Harrion would tell her stories of the giants and fairies and monsters of old, of the things that lived beyond the wall. Edd had told her stories of the mysterious red priests and the blood magic of Asshai. But Torrhen - Torr told her stories of war, and those were always the scariest. She wondered, sometimes, if he’d heard of the Battle of the Blackwater before he’d died, if it was the kind of horror story he would’ve told her.

Looking out over the calm waters, as ships came and went at a leisurely pace, it was hard to imagine the water aflame, ships damaged and sinking. It seemed the war had truly ended; life in the capital was slowly returning to normal. Although she hated King’s Landing and longed to return home, a small part of her was comforted by the return to regularity that was so clear within the city. Lost in her thoughts as she watched the goings-on on the docks below, she noticed the presence of another approaching only belatedly. Alys turned, offering the newcomer a quick smile before her attention returned to the scene at hand.

“I don’t believe I have ever seen the Blackwater before,” Alys murmured, voice only barely audible above the sounds of the water below. “It’s beautiful.”

          “What a shame,” Menta replied, the grin on her face reflecting her slight jovial tone as she stepped beside the girl, “it truly is a marvel.”

          She knew that her reply could be left there, but she had just been so bored since docking in King’s Landing, and now seemed the perfect time to stir the pot. The upset of one girl shouldn’t cause too much trouble, now should it?

          “But that battle. Now that’s the true marvel. The Lannisters didn’t stand a chance, certainly not after their king fled. Their use of wildfire, while wasteful, must have been a thing to behold. Wouldn’t you agree?” Finally turning to face who she presumed to be yet another lady invited to the ever-anticipated coronation, her lips remained pointed, as her gaze patiently awaited her reaction.

          Her words were not entirely teasing, however, The Battle of Blackwater had been a slaughter, everybody knew that. But it was always useful to know your enemy, and knoweldge of your enemies tactics was most useful of all. Especially when they were nothing short of a monumental success. She had studied such battles inside and out, as recent as they were, to guarantee she would not make the same mistake, shoud another war break out within her lifetime. Her admiration was from a tactical standpoint, not one of carnage, but so many found it so difficult to seperate the personal from the practical.