REMEMBER YOU ARE HALF WATER,

“water does not resist. Water flows. when you plunge your hand into it, all you feel is a caress. water is not a solid wall, it will not stop you. but water always goes where it wants to go, and nothing in the end can stand against it. water is patient. dripping water wears away a stone. remember that, my child. remember you are half water. If you can't go through an obstacle, go around it. water does.” SYBELLE KARSTARK of KARHOLD, thirty2. liege heir wise folk.

[halfvvater]

#halfvvater ──── multi muse blog written by mina for @fyrethrone.

─ KARSTARK, sybelle : introduction / interactions / visual / meta / pinterest.

─ FREY, laryssa : introduction / interactions / visual / meta / pinterest.

[lgcjunyi]

OPEN STARTER: day one of the feast, main hall | 0 / 4

A pity, for she typically loved feasts. The beautiful decors, and charming chatter amongst the richly-garbed guests. The elegant swirl of skirts and the twinkle of jewels under the light. Ah yes, so many people Elarys could appeal to for stories. Her mind would become full of new knowledge and her heart would swell with joy.

Joy.

Her jaw clenched, eyes hard as they bore into the thick folds of the velvet curtains as if the answer she sought was hiding there. Elarys finished what was still in her goblet in two unbecoming gulps before holding out her hand for her wine to be replenished. She was not much of a drinker ordinarily and preferred tea sweetened with honey, but these were trying times.

Who? She demanded silently, lips pressed into a thin line. Who did this to her father? Who was the one responsible for taking away her happiness? Motherless, now fatherless. It felt like a curse to be so unloved.

Her goblet remained empty. Raising her eyes, Elarys realized the presence that had approached was not one of the servants but a guest. "Pardon me," she said, attempting and failing to offer up a smile. "I..." Elarys stared down at her wineless goblet and felt the need to explain her behavior. "...I was told it could help lighten the mood."

[halfvvater]

                      if  they  had  felt  out  of  place  within  the  great  halls  of  karhold  and  winterfell,  it  is  so  much  worse  within  dragonstone,  a  world  away  from  what  they  have  always  known  and  believed.  there  is  nothing  that  appeases  to  them,  and  much  to  disturb  them,  from  the  mallicious  gossip  to  the  mournful  words,  nothing  they  can  actually  near  themselves  to.  to  seek  peace  amongst  the  bustle  is  almost  like  an  impossible  game  of  hide  and  seek,  though  they  are  adamant  in  trying  to  prevail,  somehow. 

their  luck  only  seems  to  run  out  when  word  is  spoken  towards  them;  sybelle  has  half  a  mind  to  take  advantage  of  the  young  princess'  confusion  and  turn  on  their  heels  and  run  from  the  certainly  onslaught  of  emotions  that  should  come  with  someone  that  grieves  so,  but,  somehow,  they  stay.  maybe  it  is  how  pitiful  the  other  looks,  or  because  sybelle  had  been  seeking  for  a  way  to  rid  themselves  of  their  still  full  glass.  either  way,  that  is  offered  to  the  princess,  as  well  as  poor  words  of  comfort.  "or  to  mask  it."  they  do  not  mean  terribly  by  it;  they  have  never  been  one  for  drink,  finding  it  boggles  the  mind  beyond  its  already  present  heavy  cloud.  "although  you  above  all  others  ought  to  be  entitled  to  that."

[farew3lls-deactivated20250301]

OPEN STARTER: day one, evening - tides, of the great feast, in the great hall, amidst the hustle and the bustle. ( 0 / 5 ).

tantalising  aromas  come  from  served flesh  of  meat  and  fruit,  awakening  appetite  within  pearl's  stomach  that  twists  and  turns.  (  though  it  would  be  foolish  to  believe  that  such  appetites  paused  at  the  food  and  drink  served  at  the  actual  feast.  )  looking  outwards  for  that  which  might  assist  them  inwards,  fine  -  gold  goblet  of  deep  red  near  pristine  perched  against  their  right  hand,  they  mused  aloud,  albeit  at  a  conspiratorial  whisper,  to  draw  further  within:  “a  wonderful  way  to  commemorate  someone  who  has  now  been  lost  to  us.”  they  are  cherry  -  plucking,  as  usual,  with  what  words  are  uttered  allowed  ;  upon  first  day,  with  steps  shadowed,  catheryn  would  be  doing  very  little  to  openly  rock  the  boat,  taking  hours  to  gather  information,  to  see  who  lies  where,  and  for  what  reason.  political  and  personal  opinions  mattered  not  when  the  throne  gained  new  ascension;  others  did.  “my  heart  sinks  despite  the  festivities,  though  they be surrounded  by  adoration.”

[halfvvater]

                      "indeed."  tone  is  nearly  a  mirror  to  the  interlocutor's;  although  she  had  her  own  sentiments  towards  those  born  from  dragonstone,  it  would  not  be  the  fallen  prince  the  one  to  pry  tears  out  of  laryssa's  eyes,  so  she  saw  this  affair  to  be  nothing  but  an  opportunity.  the  more  people  she  spoke  with,  the  better  grounded  she  felt  on  their  intentions  and  where  they,  too,  stood  amongst  this,  though  she  knows  there  is  some  need  to  thread  through  falsehoods.  it  is  no  different  alongside  this  lady,  whose  face  she  does  not  recognize  —  that  on  itself  is  enough  for  curiosity  to  peek  through.  "there  is  no  better  way  to  see  how  beloved  one  is  than  to  look  upon  how  their  demise  is  celebrated.  how  saddened  would  i  be  to  have  none  to  mourn  me  when  i  am  gone.  i  am  certain  his  grace  is  contented,  wherever  the  seven  may  have  taken  him.  did  you  know  him  well,  my  lady?"   

[disfunctie-deactivated20241017]

open starter ━ capping at four ( 4 ) muses . main hall , late at night ━ following the first day of the feast .

misery was to dwell within winter made flesh, turning patience into dust & putting bitter end to hopes of fleeting event to take place; for dragons knew little about modesty - or the certitude that problems were not a privilege of their own; but rather there to afflict all westeros. winter was on its way, and there was no time to be wasted with southern dramatics; a detail cregan's father seemed to neglet. perhaps the wisdom of a versed man there to overthrown yet lacking experience - or maybe the acts of a toothless old wolf in the ways of losing his marbles. whichever answer was to be right, stark heir held no choice but obey & await for targaryen ever so slow pace.

such tought enough to steal the sleep from his reach - and lead a restless man away from the bounds of his chambers. in the now empty main hall then cregan sat, lost in frustration at odds with scorching place, a cup of ale stolen from the kitchens & dusk at his feet, in feigned leisure; as it was known the striking beast would endlessly share the mood of his stark. yet, even if somewhat adrift on the horizon of his own mind, cregan was able to notice approaching steps - attention turned to the direwolf more than everything else, for dusk was to suddenly be tense at sudden presence. ❛    do not test your chances at petting him.   ❜ voice a warning, before he even turned to truly see who was his newest companion. ❛    he'll bite, you'll be sad and i'll have to waste my night trying to fish your fingers out of his mouth. not one of us is going to be happy. pet me if need be, but leave the wolf alone.   ❜

[halfvvater]

                      nightfall  does  not  becomes  them,  not  in  here.  at  home,  they  would  find  easy  respite  within  furs  as  they  take  on  the  path  to  another's  eyes,  but,  here,  without  any  familiarity  of  the  north,  they  feel  unease  at  the  possibility  of  leave  their  own  body.  if  its  own  ruling  lord,  a  dragon  in  his  own  right,  has  been  taken  amidst  his  own,  who  is  to  say  they  would  fare  any  better?  besides,  the  heat  is  so  disagreeable  they  take  to  wandering  instead.  knowledge  of  one's  acquaintance  does  not  always  makes  them  drag  themselves  towards  the  other,  but  word  has  already  been  shared  and  cregan's  companionship  is  not  entirely  a  disturbance,  much  less  that  of  his  huge  wolf  —  the  closest  thing  to  home  they  are  yet  to  find  around  these  parts. 

"i  would  not  pet  you.  he  smells  better  than  you ."  words  only  barely  mean  to  be  jestful;  dusk  does,  somehow,  still  retain  the  stench  of  the  true  north.  glance  stays  on  the  direwolf  for  a  moment  too  long,  before  they  raise  dark  eyes  to  its  owner  instead.  sybelle  forces  themself  to  morph  lips  into  something  akin  to  a  smile;  better  than  a  howl  if  they  were  to  speak.

[txrtxrxdmuxsxdpt]

Aenys stood in the main hall, where food was being served to the guests. There was a plate in his hand, with bread and a type of meat. He had to admit, the food here was good but he found the whole situation weird. The prince had just died and here they were, celebrating as if it was another name day. Aenys understood that they wanted to celebrate his life but still, it seemed like a weird thing to do when the pain and grief of the family was still so fresh. Aenys took a goblet filled with wine from one of the servants, nodding at them with a smile before turning around and finding an empty seat at one of the tables. "Is this seat occupied?" He asked to the person who was sitting on the seat next to it.

[halfvvater]

                      although  she  can  not  say  having  the  very  first  targaryen  function  of  her  return  to  be  a  funeral,  at  least  this  one's  guests  are  more  interesting  than  the  last  one's  she  had  attended  (  her  husband  has  always  had  a  poor  taste  on  friends,  after  all  ).  river  green  eyes  look  upwards  to  the  person  asking  for  permission;  surprise  at  the  request  is  swiftly  kept  away  as  she  brings  her  plate  closer  to  open  up  space.  “it  may  as  well  have  your  name  on  it,  lord  velaryon.”  recognition  is  easy,  and  her  smile  is  easier  so.  “if  you  do  not  mind  the  fish.”  considering  where  he  hails  from,  she  doubts  that  will  be  the  case,  just  as  she,  too,  has  taken  advantage  of  the  reminiscent-filled  meal.  “how  were  the  seas?”

[halfvvater]

the king had summoned LARYSSA of HOUSE FREY, LADY of THE TWINS to be judged upon their MEDDLESOME and PETULANT nature, under his justice as the ruler of the seven kingdoms and protector of the realm. while they are notably QUICK - WITTED and SUPPORTIVE, many at court are at odds when it comes to their true nature and place in king’s landing, especially as they remind them of GIRLHOOD, THE SWEETEST ROTTING ACHE & DEFT HANDS PILLING COIN UPON COIN, CARELESSLY BUILT TOWERS OF INDULGENCE & DARK VEILS OF MOURNING CONCEALING GLINT IN SHALLOW POOL EYES. in another universe, far beyond the realms of the red keep, they would have been comparable to JULIA THE ELDER ( domina ) & ROHANNE WEBBER ( asoiaf ), of whom they share an almost uncanny resemblance to. as their true loyalty lies to HERSELF & LYSAERA TARGARYEN, when told of robert’s first rebellion, it was unsurprising how they were IMPARTIAL WITH the insurgence against the crown. with the tides rapidly shifting throughout the realm, there is no telling what fates have in store for them, as when you play the game of thrones, you live, or you die.

i.

full name: laryssa frey title: lady of the twins (by birth), tba (by marriage). alias(es): tba nicknames: lary, lyssa. age: eight and twenty birthdate: tba gender & pronouns: demi woman ; she / they. orientation: biromantic and sexual religion: the faith of the seven languages spoken: the common tongue, some high valyrian allegiance: herself, lysaera

ii.

notable features: big eyes, dimples when she smiles height: 5'2, 158 cm. build: curvaceous. eyes: green. hair: dark brown, nearly black; naturally straight, but wavy due to plaiting. she tends to wear it loose, half-up, adorned with bejeweled pins and most likely following the current fashion of court. during her marriage and her early widowhood, she wore her hair covered in veils of mourning. wardrobe: fashion is generally lavish, with intricate embroidery and rich fabrics; she prefers lively colors, in the shades of blue, pink, yellow. again, for several months now due to her widowhood, she has stuck to darker shades of blue and black, but dearly hopes to "liven it up" now she's back at court.

iii.

father: lord ryford bracken mother: lady lynda frey siblings: two ( all older ). marital status: widowed. children: none. pets: keeps several lap dogs, cats and horses; tba. relatives: house tully ( maternal cousins ), house bracken ( paternal cousins ).

iv.

abilities: none of supernatural value. moral alignment: tba positives: tba. negatives: tba. pass times: architecture, sketching, embroidery, astronomy, gossiping, shopping, dancing, horse riding. wields: knows how to use the crossbow and the bow and arrow but does not usually practice it outside of hunting. inspirations: julia the elder ( domina ), rohanne webber ( asoiaf ), elinor tyrell ( asoiaf ), genna lannister ( asoiaf ), conchita closson ( the buccaneers ).

v.

though one of the wealthiest and most powerful houses of westeros, the frey have often suffered from their reputation as lesser than. such a thing is now seen as something of the past, fact solified by the marriage of one of their daughters to house tully. yet, ruling lady lynda is cunning and well-aware there are yet steps for them to climb; though initially supportive of the rebellion due to the aforementioned blood line, the frey would, at the very end, turn their back on that and claim loyalty foremost to the targaryens, with lady lynda herself helping to barter her brother in law for his surrender to the dragons.

somehow amidst it all, the youngest frey's girlhood is spared. while thousands shake off the mud from their garnments, laryssa resumes life at the river's edge. when the frey are further honored by their timely smart, she is the one chosen to be brought to court. to be made lady in waiting to the princess, even at the beginning of her teenagehood, is exhilarating. in no time, she takes to court like duck to water and, though letters are exchanged often between herself and her relatives at the twins, she grows just a little too affectionated to the princess and her own, likening herself to them.

at fifteen, she receives her first engagement. it is struck by her parents but verified by the queen; such an honor should be enough to liften her spirits to the heavens but, when she hears of her bethroted's passing due to a case of the chills, she is gladdened she shall not have to leave court. alongside the princess, she learns all that seems befitting of a lady with a brighter future and, as she turns her loyalty to lysaera, she is quick to do her bidding, and that of the queen's; she learns how to hear, to create and spread rumors inconspicuously, enjoying to earn her place amongst the turbulation of the court.

several years later, when rumor of an indiscretion on her part reaches her mother's ears, happiness is chased to an end. belongings are packed and no pleading from any part will be heard; she is wedded within the year and kept within husband's keep. to say she hates it is an understanding. life as a wedded lady is a bore at best, and she misses court and those she had left behind there; she does little to try to reconcile with the fact, souring her union further. twice she falls pregnant, and twice she loses the babe until they stop trying to co-exist altogether. it is said she has learned old valyrian magic at court and no life can root in her belly nor love in her heart; the rumors content her, and she may have had a hand in spreading them herself.

one day, luck knocks on her door as her husband breaks his neck during a hunt. by then, she has learned how to put up a show, and acts the part of mournful wife. it's been six months since, and without any proof of quickening, she has received her dower money and quickly returned to court, back to lysaera. she's learned her parents intend to wed her again - - continuing to ensure their dues until there are no steps left to climb - - but she's trying to be confident she can be her own master. it is about time, after all.

[denastudio]

I was always obsessed with the pearlescent pink poker chips in Marie Antoinette (2006)

[psychecreations]

LIAH O'PREY as JULIA THE ELDER Domina 1.05: Plague

[wildcmbcrsupdates]

fionapalomo: Con amor.

Fiona Palomo via Instagram, 03/27/2023.

[andrew-garfielld]

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON (2022-) 02x04 | 02x06

[halfvvater]

the king had summoned SYBELLE of HOUSE KARSTARK, the LIEGE HEIR of KARHOLD to be judged upon their INDRAWN and RESISTANT nature, under his justice as the ruler of the seven kingdoms and protector of the realm. while they are notably NURTURING and BENIGN many at court are at odds when it comes to their true nature and place in king’s landing, especially as they remind them of A ROBIN'S SONG, THE FIRST TO BREAK THE DAWN AND TO JOIN THE NIGHT CHORUS & CONSTANTLY PECKING AWAY AT ONE'S OWN SKIN TO FIND ITS WINGS TO BREAK FREE & RIPPING AWAY AT ROOTS UNTIL TALONS SEEP WITH SAP, A NEVERENDING EFFORT TO NESTLE IN. in another universe, far beyond the realms of the red keep, they would have been comparable to BRAN STARK ( asoiaf ) & ALAIS PELLETIER DU MAS ( the labyrinth ), of whom they share an almost uncanny resemblance to. as their true loyalty lies to THE NORTH, when told of robert’s first rebellion, it was unsurprising how they were IN FAVOUR OF the insurgence against the crown. with the tides rapidly shifting throughout the realm, there is no telling what fates have in store for them, as when you play the game of thrones, you live, or you die.

i.

full name: sybelle karstark title: liege heir of karhold alias(es): the soothsayer nicknames: sybbie (prefers sybelle). age: two and thirty birthdate: the twenty fourth day of the ninth month gender & pronouns: non - binary; they / them orientation: demiromantic and sexual religion: the old gods languages spoken: the common tongue, understands the old tongue better than they speak it occupation: noble, healer allegiance: house karstark, house stark, the north

ii.

notable features: striking head of auburn curls, as inherited from their father; freckles all across their nose and cheeks. height: 5'7, 170 cm. build: tall, curvaceous. eyes: dark brown. hair: curly and voluminous. either it is worn loose, untended for and messy ( i'm talking leaves and branches ) or tied back in plaits to get it out of the way. wardrobe: tends to wear dark shades in practical colors, particularly in shades of grey and black, browns and greens; their wardrobe is hardly befitting of their station, preferably plain of embroidery and adorns.

iii.

father: lord willas umber mother: lady rhea karstark siblings: two ( all younger ). marital status: unwed, possibly betrothed. children: none pets: several. most notably, they tend to their hawks on the mews themselves. relatives: house umber of last hearth ( paternal cousins ), house bolton of the dreadfort ( paternal cousins ), house velaryon of driftmark ( maternal cousins ).

iv.

abilities: skinchanger; tba. moral alignment: tba positives: well - meaning, nurturing, attentive negatives: nosy, unforthcoming, non - committal pass times: herbal lore and the healing arts, sketching, skinchanging, observing people, exploring, napping. wields: a small hunting knife; it is never used for the aforementioned purpose and they only carry it for their parents' peace of mind. inspirations: bran & arya stark ( asoiaf ), alais du mas ( the labyrinth ), alys rivers ( hotd ), lottie matthews ( yellowjackets ), jane grey ( my lady jane ), mr. everdeen ( the hunger games ), tba.

v.

they are a lot as a child. they are wild eyes and dirty hands, muddy - stained hemlines and running, so much running. there is a lot of jesting that they behave more like a hound than the heir of the house, though that is something that is less concerning to them. from the crib, they prefer staying outdoor and chasing animals than learning politics and how to sew. she will grow out of it, their parents assure.

they don't.

the one thing that they are diligent about are tales of the old gods. there are no prayer chant, but there is something otherworldly about the godswood, the one place they seemingly find peace at. it is there they are found at one and ten, passed out against the leaves, body cold and eyes unmoving.

they wake up thirteen days later, blood warm between their thighs and bitter inside their mouth. it is the first time they bleed, and also the first time they leave their body; all fondness towards fauna had been lingering and mutual, yet it had taken this one night on their knees, praying for their father to return from the rebellion, for them to find root in another's body. at first, they enter a mockingbird. night chorus bird is abandoned for a bird of prey along the way, until the winds are so cold they can not help but to nestle amongst territory - - then, sybelle wouldn't know that they had made it to a wildling woodswitch's hut. it would take the entire fornight for them to return to their consciousness, to their own body, back in karhold, with their mother and siblings weeping by their bedside.

it's another fortnight until they recuperate from their first changing. still, curiosity beaks at them and causes them to try to return. teenage years see a change in the outdoorsy child, if only because they decide to spend their days and nights honing this new gift upon bed. the world through beasts' eyes is more enticing than anything karhold has to offer, and sybelle decides to live by that. they continuously return to the old woman's hut, picking up the old tongue, the herbs and the medicine she mixes and hands over to whomever can give her enough coin to make it through another year.

one moon, the old woman passes away. sybelle is nine and ten and the war on the south is lost, not that it seems to matter to them. the world of politics and ruling is uninteresting, though they find new life on the world surrounding them. their favorite beasts to peek into are birds for their nimble frame and the formidable wings ( they do so adore flying ), but they learn to reserve the right moment for it. instead, they occupy their days with learning herblore; the keep's maester is amazed at their "natural" knowledge, but sybelle also learns all that they can from him before setting on to the surrounding areas of the northern parts of the north, then to its middle, then to its souther areas; unlike the wildling, they do not charge for the healing service offered, requesting only bread and salt, for its protection and the roof above their head the old costum entails.

they begin to be called soothsayer, woods witch, wise woman. they can not tell the future, not truly, but years of observing the world from above gives them a privileged vision into the world that is only mildly helpful to them and maesters can not go everywhere the people need, nor are men of the citadel attuned to the way of the north.

they do not grow out of it. lady rhea and lord willas grow more concerned by the day about the future of karhold when its heir's reputation is that of a good woman, yet a seemingly unprepared leader that prefers the company of smallfolk than that of their equal. sybelle continues to themselves only with their wings and their herbs.

vi.

sybelle is unapologetically weird. they do not like to speak and exchange very few words, are more likely to stare at people than give them word, they have very selective tastes and they abhor most, if not all, political matters.

a weakness they have are children and animals. while they do not expect to bear children themselves, they hold affection for any animal and tends to bring in strays from any travelling they do; besides those dearest to them, those are the only people that truly have them loosening their tongues for.

unexpectedly they are rather soft and unwilling to turn to ferocity; such an urge has increased ten fold over the years they have began to skinchange, as they do not wish to be entirely unhuman.

few, if any, know of the gift she carries. excuses (such as laziness and overall weirdness) are easily concocted as they have learned almost entire control of the changing and their own limitations.

an important limitation is that they have not been able to enter the minds of people, nor are they particularly interested in starting to.

they are awfully pious; they believe the old gods have given them such a queer gift with a purpose, and for their goodness they must be reveered and respected. the way of the south, in turn, is to be abominated.

tries to be a vegetarian, but often slips in animal form or is demanded to partake on the meal of the day.

has the ehhh habit of spying on their loved ones to assure their well - being whilst on animal form. don't ask, they definitely won't tell.

most likely has scared away several suitors, but may have a current engagement they may or not be working for. despite their purposeful shortcomings, they understand that karhold one day will be theirs, and to best rule the keep and its lands, they need someone at their side who is capable and understanding.

alternatively, sybelle has considered abdication constantly. it would be the best route for all, but they are still intimidated to bring up word to their parents and, sometimes, they are insecure about shackling up a sibling with such a burden.

[lmaonade]

hey sorry if i was offputting and strange and bizarre and weird as fuck last night i was just being myself

[disease-deactivated20210414]

KATE MACDOWELL / CLAY PIGEONS / 2018

[bearcatrain]

i can be trusted on a nature walk i promise. i promise i will stay on the trail and will not run off into the forest never to be seen again i promise

[thenorthsource]

Locations of The North

[witchesnet]

It's hard to believe that so much has happened in a week.