GRACELESS.

dependent  oc  for  ironforgedrp.

[evclyne]

myrcella clegane‌.

       myrcella spotted the familiar hairpiece in the other woman’s hands, and a blush quickly coloured her cheeks. how it had come untangled from her hair, she did not know - perhaps a problem in her hairstyling. it had been a long night, and such things were somewhat inevitable. at least the lovely golden leaves had been saved from loss beneath the feet of a hundred guests. ‘ thank you, my lady, ‘ she said, offering a genuine smile in return. she could not recognise who was behind the golden mask, but she was certainly striking, in her dark dress scattered with roses. a tyrell, perhaps - though there were several cousins to the lord, not to mention his sisters, and his wife. she was not quite familiar enough with any among them to recognise her based on voice alone. ‘ i am most grateful ; such a precious thing does not deserve to be lost. ‘ 

             she met lady myrcella’s gratitude with the slight of nod and a polite smile, the perfect image of humble magnanimity, gracious as a lady always should be. “ it would be a terrible shame. would have made a serving girl quite happy, though, i suspect, ” she jested, with a girlish breath of laughter. “ i could --- ” she trailed off, raising the hairpiece in an offer. “ if you’d like, my lady. ” there was no way lady myrcella had done up her hair on her own ; a handful of servants had likely laced her into her great golden gown, brushed and braided her hair, twined the golden wreath with golden locks --- but apparently not with the skill required to keep it in place. she might need the help.

[evclyne]

ashara dalt.

A hissed whisper came from somewhere above Ashara and she craned her neck upward to see where exactly. Her eyes landed on a gorgeous lady clad in a black and gold rose motif. “I- uh- I am eating sweets. Would you like one?” She asked as she plucked a chocolate tart from the plate under the table and held it up towards the woman. 

             she had expected hurried excuses, perhaps a note of embarrassment --- the girl’s honesty catches her off guard and she must purse her lips to hide her laughter. still, she accepts the chocolate tart, popping it into her mouth surreptitiously, with a sparkle of mischief in her eyes. “ it is all a bit much, isn’t it ? ” she inquires, gaze cast around the room, as she shifts her skirts slightly to help keep the girl’s hiding spot concealed. 

[evclyne]

tya lannister.

“Perhaps, but I hadn’t pegged any Lannister for the victory. In fact, I had thought the Tully lad most deserving.”

             the slight arch of a brow, the twitch of lips, a girlish but knowing smile graces her features. “ oh ? ” she prods. “ i must say, i didn’t pay him much mind. which one is he ? ” 

[evclyne]

ashara dalt.

The Harvest Queen and King had been crowned. Ashara hadn’t won it which wasn’t a surprise to her, but it was a little disappointing. Perhaps every girl thought with a little piece of them that they’d win. When the dancing had all but come to an end and Ashara had imbibed entirely more wine than she’d ever had before, the dessert table became entirely too enticing. She picked up a plate of pastries and crawled underneath the draped table to hide and snack until someone tripped over her leg which she hadn’t realized was sticking out from under the table. She pushed the tablecloth back and peeked her head out from under the table cautiously. “Are you okay?”

             intoxicated lords spun their ladies across the floor, growing steadily more clumsy, but evelyne’s head was quite clear, watching the dancers with a mixture of condescension and envy. it was only pure chance, and perhaps the simple water in her wine cup leaving her attention sharper, that let her catch the amusing exchange a few feet away, a lord of the riverlands stumbling carelessly over his visibly annoyed wife --- and then, surprisingly, as the pair shuffled off, a face appearing from behind the table drapings. “ seven hells, girl, what are you doing ? ” she hissed from the corner of her mouth, trying not to betray her amusement, nor the girl’s hiding spot.

[evclyne]

tya lannister.

“Seems almost biased for a Tyrell to win Harvest King, no?”

             “ no more than it would be obsequious for a lannister to be handed that very same crown, wouldn’t you say ? ”

[evclyne]

myrcella clegane‌.

      it was strange, that she might be surrounded by so many people and yet feel so entirely alone. myrcella felt more a spectator than anything, watching the ball pass her by as she tried to remain inconspicuous. a difficult task in her opulent golden dress, but she had no desire to stand out. let others take the spotlight ; she would be happier in the gardens, where quiet reigned. it was tempting to escape this place, and so she began to head for an archway she knew would lead her to fresh air. yet as she saw freedom before her, myrcella heard her name spoken over the noise. she turned, painting on a false smile. ‘ oh, were you looking for me? ‘

             the hall was massive, certainly enough to accommodate all the guests, and yet it had become stifling, uncomfortable, leaving evelyne’s cheeks flushed, aching with the effort of countless false smiles. it was in her search of a distraction that her gaze landed on the lady myrcella, lithe fingers rising to her lips to suppress a giggle at the sight. but she seemed to have the right idea, making a beeline for the massive archway to the gardens, so focused in her escape that she seemed not to notice her delicate hairpiece hanging precariously from her hair, and then, as evelyne watched, tumbling from golden locks to the stone floor below.

             it was unbecoming of a woman of her standing to simply stoop to pick something off the floor, and yet she didn’t hesitate, her mask emboldening her as she excused herself from her husband’s side and followed the path cut by the lady’s great golden skirts. halted at a polite distance, she nodded as if mildly embarrassed. “ forgive me. you lost this, ” she explained with as much delicacy as she could muster, as if she weren’t biting back a laugh.

[evclyne]

since you're the first tyrell family member, could you tell me whose house the former lady tyrell came from? i'm working on an app for a sibling and would like to add that to the info :)

yes, absolutely ! she was from house beesbury in the reach, & her name was elinor. if you have any more questions, feel free to ask !

[evclyne]

( task four,  masquerade attire )

            lady evelyne attends as is expected of her, and dresses visibly with politics on the mind. it is a careful synthesis of her two houses, mindfully chosen ; she wears her husband’s colors, black and gold, but elsewhere boasts the tyrell sigil. her dress is sheer black silk draped over gold, and stitched with trails of roses, the severe bodice balanced by the airiness of her skirts. in loosely braided hair she wears a wreath of gold leaves and blossoms, shiny with pearls, matched by bracelets on delicate wrists. her mask, too, is gilded, its leaves threatening to tangle in her hair.

[evclyne]

wylla stark.

“I do.” Wylla said, stone-faced as only a Stark could be. “And I know your type.” It was impossible not to. Even amongst the smallfolk there are those who believe themselves untouchable. Those who used what sway they had to push down on anyone who would bend to their will. Wylla didn’t bend. “I’ve been shouting at people since I was a babe. I haven’t been offed yet. I’d wager the odds are in my favor, at least in regard to that.” She sneered. “And what house are you supposed to be of? Merryweather? Redwyne?”

             again, evelyne found herself surprised. the woman wielded the names, merryweather, redwyne, with familiarity, an ease more often found in the highborn or wealthy --- not something she would expect from a king’s landing barmaid. brows quirked, she waited expectantly for more, demonstratively drawing out the silence. “ oh, is that all ? i thought you might guess a few more, ” she said, her voice light, as sweet as she could muster. “ but, ” she began again, before the woman could retort, “ as lovely as this has been, i’m afraid i do not have all the time in the world to waste. ” the overwhelming sincerity of her regret was expertly manufactured, though a hint of laughter still lingered in the creases of her eyes. “ do give my condolences to the next unfortunate soul to disturb your ... delicate sensibilities. ” a guard held the door open as she left, in a swirl of skirts and frustration, to continue her search somewhere less headache-inducing.

[evclyne]

house tyrell or house greyjoy?

this or that  —  accepting. 

             her hesitation speaks volumes ; the question is an uncomfortable one, which prods at lingering anxieties, raises questions she’d rather leave unanswered. “ house greyjoy, ” she answers, after a long silence, the admission feeling foolish, however true it may be. “ my loyalty always lay closest to my father, but he’s long dead, and emeric… for all my love of him, i find my husband’s ambitions to be better suited to my own. ”

[veilled-deactivated20160315]

send one for my muse’s reaction to your muse ---

[rytherns-deactivated20170926]

veilled:

alternatively send ‘ + ‘ after the symbol for the roles to be reversed where possible !

✘ = hugging them . Δ = playing with their hair .  ❤ = kissing them .  ₪ = asking them out for dinner . ☀ = giving them a gift of ___ ( asker’s choice ) . ♘ = stabbing them . ♕ = bowing down before them . ♒ = lying to them .   ✿ = buying them flowers . ☾ = being found shirtless . ♢ = reading them a story . ☂ = giving them their jumper to keep warm . ✎ = speaking in a different language . ✏ = teaching them a different language . ▄ = telling them a joke . ♬ = singing to them . ☹ = insulting a loved one . ஐ = slapping them . ✂ = threatening them . ❃ = dancing with them . ▤ = falling asleep on them . ☮ = waking them up after a nightmare .  ♣ = discovering them crying .  回 = patching a wound .  ✮ = stargazing . ▓ = caught stealing their belongings . ☽ = wandering alone at night . ♡ = complimenting them . ≡ = offering a place to stay overnight . ☢ = falling over . ✦ = being well-dressed . ❂ = wiping blood off their face . ◎ = taking care of them while ill . ☁ = being caught in the middle a storm with them . ⇕ = holding their hand . ↱ = being lost with them . ☠ = pushing them against a wall .

[rpmemesyo]

Anonymously or not, tell me who you ship my muse with.

[sadrosegrl]

send in "this or that" asks 🌹🌺🍑

[evclyne]

doreah saans‌.

“and which gods are you referring to? there are so many, so many different faiths too. in fact to some the mere existence of this place of worship is blasphemous.”doreah replied evenly. she was used to the tone that those of noble birth took with the smallfolk. condescending almost always even dressed up in politeness. she did not flinch as her occupation was flung back in her face. she knew who she was, she was proud of it. she had been born in some of the worst conditions a child could be born to and yet she had survived. better yet she had become. something greater than her bitch of a mother could have ever dreamed when she abandoned her to a pleasure house of all places.

“just because i have said these gods care not for me does not mean i am faithless. there are many more religions in the free cities than there are in westeros, my lady.” doreah continued, tacking on the title only as a formality. it baffled her how easily offended the woman was, it was as if anything was bound to vex her. first the noises and now the opinions of a stranger on religion. she refused to apologize or lick the boots of this woman simply because she happens to be in a wretched mood.

            evelyne had plenty of practice in patience, waiting for seasons to turn and old men to meet their end. it was no stretch of her passivity to simply wait the woman’s prognostication out, expression unchanging. if a whore of king’s landing wanted to argue gods, who was evelyne to deny her the slim pleasures that might be derived from a moment’s sense of moral superiority ? the city’s smallfolk almost unilaterally shared the traits ; without much tangible to their name, and carrying resentment twice their weight, persistently seeking an upper hand. she might have admired it, were the woman’s attempts not so transparent, grasping. 

            with a measured, long-suffering inhale, she pressed away her annoyance, her mingled pity and contempt, summoning something closer to weariness. “ i don’t care. ” it still sounded sharper than she might have meant. “ not what other gods there are, nor which ones you keep. you stand here shameless, disrespecting the gods for which this sept was built, keeping people from their prayer because you think you know more of gods than they do, all the while proving you know nothing. if you do not keep these gods, then you have no business here, and should leave. ”

[evclyne]

wylla stark.

“You’re not going to scare me with your little metal-plated guard dogs, lady.” Wylla rolled her eyes. She was surrounded by the tavern regulars. They might be a little drunk and most were definitely not trained to fight, but they outnumbered the guards seven to one. She wagered her odds were pretty fair. Not to mention, Wylla had never had a problem throwing a punch. She didn’t think she could say the same of the well-dressed lady in front of her. “I said, do you have a fucking staring problem? No need to speak anymore, though. You’re whole threatening bit answers me well enough.”

             she was bold, indisputably --- perhaps to the point of foolishness, but despite all her bluster, evelyne had little to no authority here. guards served merely as protection, and she could hardly afford to go picking fights. “ you think i was threatening you ? ” a breath of laughter fell from her lips, but she caught it after just a note. looking suddenly embarrassed, she swiftly composed herself. no, it wouldn’t be worth the time went unsaid but for the slight jut of her chin. “ but if you go shouting at everyone who dares look your way, i am afraid you’ll be worse than threatened rather quickly, ” she warned earnestly, though the hint of irrepressible amusement still lingered.

[evclyne]

lyarra stark.‌

Lyarra had never been in Sept before, she worshipped the Old Gods, not the Faith of the Seven but curious as ever she made her way through the doors. Due to the recent beheading of the traitorous Bloodrider who had attempted to kill the Queen, there was a buzz in the Sept, something Lyarra had scoffed at and muttered to her guards about Southern people being idiots. At the sound of an annoyed voice, Lyarra turned to see where it had come from. A woman who she assumed was a lady by the way she was dressed. “The way certain people act you would think it was a tavern and not a place of worship.” 

“Most people care more about the recent events than praying, I am sorry if my guards and I are bothering you.” 

             the voice of assent somewhere to her left was unexpected, but she met it with a measured nod, straightening her spine. “ right you are, lady lyarra, ” evelyne agreed, even if the northern lady was no less a nuisance. it was a sight to behold, surely, even ( or especially ) after a bloody beheading upon its pristine steps, but the sept was a place for prayer. not a great monument to the satisfaction of northern curiosity. “ no more than .. recent events bother me. ” she feigned admittance, eyes downcast. “ but it was a fool’s errand, anyhow. i don’t know what i expected. ” the twitch of a smile served to assure that she was not so much distressed as amused at her own poor foresight.

[nevcrdie]

❛ Hand me that knife. ❜

             teyron looked at his wife, then back at the man on his knees before him, and then back to his wife ─  nearly deadpanned if it weren’t for the determined glimmer in his eye.   in truth it was more her right than his, despite how enjoyable it would be for him.   so, with a huffed sigh, he twirled the knife in his hand so the hilt was presented to evelyne,   “ very well, do what you will.  he’s yours, ”  then, turning his eyes back to the fishermonger who’d shortly be brought to justice, he smiled cooly,  “ perhaps next time you won’t try to force yourself on one of my wife’s ladies,” then turned to leave, pausing to turn back with a menacing grin;  “ if there’s a next anything for you, of course. ”

( @evclyne )