bellum modernum

tyrell - greyjoy - santagar

[ofsevenkingdoms]

💬 — robb & maron

Robb: you can fight with my siblings about that. you'll probably win.

Robb: not true. i'd have been changed into...many other things by now

Robb: then don't be an idiot who leaves his phone out. women love to snoop

Robb: i'll let you know after our date.

Maron: i could take them all. except the little tiny feral one with the freaky dog

Maron: idk mate, considering how much shit you eat on the pitch, it’s probably bang on

Maron: true, i should probably change my passcode into something more obvious than F-I-S-H lmao

Maron: where are you taking her? 👀 i lowkey need date ideas im so not used to this

[ofsevenkingdoms]

gildedseashell‌:

She had always liked anticipation, but waiting for her last meeting to be over – and waiting for his to be over – was perhaps one of the most telling points about her own patience. Living with her younger brother had made it obvious she’d need to have some patience, but Jeyne had developed more than she’d originally thought. It had all dissolved like sugar into coffee the moment she’d seen Maron again. Still, it was worth the wait, to see him once more, to see the look in his eye that she hoped was just for her, to know that she would be leaving with him and, hopefully, with actual contact information this time. Her own lips curved into a small smile. “That they do,” she agreed, offering Maron another upturn of her lips as he held the door open for her. “I love Pentoshi food,” she told him with a tilt of her head. And how had she not noticed before how much he dwarfed her?

“I don’t mind walking,” she responded with a smile, idly wondering if he honestly thought he’d be going home alone tonight, because if she had anything to say about it, he most definitely would not. “I’d actually prefer it, with all the beautiful Christmas lights around. Last year there was a walk around historic Oldtown, with all these old houses lit up with lights. It was so incredibly beautiful.” Jeyne had always enjoyed Christmas of all the other holidays, if only because she loved the twinkling lights that glistened and glimmered in the darkness. There was something about it that drew her in, transfixed her in a way little else did. “I actually haven’t been able to get any up at my townhouse, which is unfortunate. But I’m sure I’ll figure something out. At least we have a tree.” Jeyne shrugged her shoulders as they walked, taking a moment to readjust her scarf around her neck and cursing herself for not wearing a heavier coat – though if she’d been walking, she likely would have chosen something different.

“Great.” Maron grinned, leading the way across the now-deserted parking lot to the main road that lead to the restaurant he’d been dying to try for weeks now since he’d noticed it opening up on his way to work. “I’ve never been, but I’ve heard it’s amazing - some of my students all went together last week and they couldn’t stop raving about it. I love that part of town, all the old buildings even without the lights - but I guess now that I’ve had a trusted opinion on it, I’ll have to go.” The Christmas lights were mostly lost on Maron, seeing as he’d never been one to appreciate that kind of thing, but when Jeyne pointed them out he found himself noticing the way some of the trees had been wreathed in twinkling lights. He didn’t so much find himself enamoured by the lights, but rather by the way he saw Jeyne appreciating them as they walked by. 

He noticed the way she was wrapping her scarf tighter around her neck, and seized the opportunity to shrug off his own coat and offer it to her. He didn’t feel the cold so much as most people, and he couldn’t bare the thought that she might be uncomfortable on their way to what Maron hoped was a date that sealed him a phone number, a second date, and maybe, if he was lucky, a chance to wake up next to her like he’d already missed out on once. “Here, borrow this.” He smiled, feigning shyness a little in an act that was almost practiced by now, but not entirely ingenuine. “I’m from the Iron Islands, the cold’s nothing. Promise.” Maron joked and held out the warm winter coat, feeling a little uncomfortably like a protagonist in one of those cheesy Christmas movies that Asha’s girlfriend made them all watch when he went over to their place. 

[ofsevenkingdoms]

thearbor-desmera‌:

Desmera laughed, shaking her head as her cousin spoke of Cersei Lannister. “Do you think she’ll win?” she inquired curiously as she considered the elections that were to take place after the holidays. “I’m not certain I like anyone running if I’m being honest.” The brunette lifted her glass back to her lips and it was only after she swallowed that she responded to Loras’ comment about her dog. “That’s precisely why I have to leave him. If I were to bring him everywhere with me, I’d be such a slave to my dog that nothing would get done.” Her nose crinkled in amusement and Desmera rolled her eyes dramatically, thankful that her visitor today was one who understood her just as much – if not better – than most.

She supposed it didn’t really matter to most people what was at the top of their Christmas tree – Desmera liked the tradition of a star, but she’d also seen some finial toppers that looked quite nice, even if she would never got as old-fashioned as having an angel atop it. “Perhaps you’re right,” she drawled, her gaze tightening as she considered the proportion of the tree. Desmera offered Loras another smile and gestured to the storeroom door on the other end of the bar. “They’re in there. I think that we’ll go with something somewhat traditional. Large baubles at the bottom and smaller ones as you move up the tree. Three ribbons cascading down, if the ones I have are wide enough. I certainly wouldn’t want a tree that’s disproportionate.” Desmera poured herself a bit more wine. “What are your plans for the holidays?” Though their grandmother was alive, Desmera’s father had passed some time ago and her mother seemed content to travel the world with her newest – and quite young – boyfriend. And as for her brothers, well… “The twins are going to be in Yi Ti or something like that.”

“I hope not.” Loras sighed, rolling his eyes. He wasn’t particularly interested in politics, despite both his and Renly’s families involvement in it - all he knew was that he didn’t trust Cersei personally, and that meant she certainly couldn’t be trusted much longer with the running of their country. “She strikes me as an incredibly selfish person, and it takes one to know one.” Loras shrugged, and took another little sip from the glass. Desmera was such an efficient person - and she had been ever since he was a little girl, Loras remembered being bossed around fondly when they were children playing together when the Redwynes came to Highgarden to visit. It was hard to imagine her being swayed by puppy-dog-eyes, but then again, Rothko was a very cute puppy dog. 

“I usually am.” He smirked, never one for modesty, as he stood and did as Desmera instructed. One of the many advantages of his chosen profession was that lifting the boxes of baubles was no problem, and blatantly showing off to his cousin that he could carry all of them at once was a very viable option. “I think I’m going to spend the morning with Ren’s family. The Baratheons are... something, but Ren’s gone and bought Stannis a pair of bedazzled cowboy boots and I have to be there to see his face when he opens them. Then we’ll probably head up to Highgarden - mum’s doing her usual big thing.” He explained from behind the boxes as he set them gently down beside the tree. “You should come! Especially if Horror and Slobber aren’t on the agenda.” Loras was a snob, and could confidently say that the company of Desmera’s twin brothers was not high on his list of favourites - hence the scathing childhood nicknames that had never gone away. “I’m sure everyone would be so happy to see you - especially grandmother, and Mar. Unless you have plans...” Loras wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as he opened the first meticulously packed ornament box, wondering if there was someone special Mera was spending her holiday with seeing as the Redwynes had dispersed. 

[ofsevenkingdoms]

drinkup-buttercup‌:

Theon was propped against the side of his bar, glass of wine in hand as he considered the large aquarium fixed into the wall nearby. There was a number of fish gliding about, all a multitude of colors as they darted about a fixture of live coral and carefully picked rocks. The tank was pristine, revealing Theon cared much more for the collection of fish than he let on, and if he wasn’t working his bar counter or doing paperwork in his office, he was found hovering above the aquarium, testing water quality, ensuring the pumps were clean, and the salt water was at an appropriate level. He could proudly boast that he had not lost a single fish that Maron had brought him.

“I named that one after you, cause he’s a dick.” Theon said as he pointed to a yellow tang pursuing another that was significantly smaller than it. Maron had stopped by, and for once, Theon had nothing to really occupy his time. One of his employees was manning the bar, weekly reports were done as was payroll, and now he was lounging with an expensive bottle of wine, which he’d decided to share (perhaps a little begrudgingly). 

“When’s your next outing?” He wanted a new fish. Maybe a red one. 

Eventually he would invest in getting his own boat, something he could take out and enjoy the quiet of the waves for a few days. There was also the desire to get scuba lessons…leading him to believe he might be more like his brother than he thought. 

“Is the little one next to it named after you?” Maron deadpanned, his eyes trained on the fish-tank as he smirked. “Y’know, because it’s small and irritating.” The two of them had had so little in common for most of their lives, but adulthood had been kinder to their relationship than childhood had been, and slowly the two of them had grown a little closer. The regular stops that Maron made by Theon’s bar were testaments to this - he’d never admit it, unless the liquor poured incredibly freely, but he looked forward to coming here whenever he could swing it. What he would admit, though, and did quite frequently, was how proud of his little brother he was for starting his own business, managing it so effortlessly and still finding time to give him shit over a drink. 

“Not for a while, unfortunately. There was a trip planned for the weekend before Christmas, since work would be up for the holidays and I’d have a bit of time on my hands, but uh... stuff came up. So I pulled out.” Stuff being the girl he’d been seeing, and making the most of what time he could find in her busy holiday schedule to spend time with her. “I’ve been seeing someone, so I decided not to go on any research trips this break. But next time, I promise you a red one.” Maybe he’d just go to a pet shop before Christmas and make that Theon’s gift. 

“Are you going to be at Pyke for Christmas?” Maron asked, taking a healthy sip of the wine Theon had deigned to share with him. “Mum called the other day, she said Asha was going, and Rodrik might be coming over too.” He shrugged. “She seemed unconcerned by any of that - seemed like she just wanted to know if her favorite child was coming.” Maron rolled his eyes, because that role was, and always would be, reserved for their mother’s youngest. “Do you know if darling Theon is coming for Christmas? I haven’t seen him for too long and I miss that handsome face of his - can you drop in and check on him for me, Maron? I worry about him, he’s so busy these days.” He imitated their mother almost perfectly, thick Iron Islands accent and all, in a way he’d never dare to replicate in Alannys’ presence.

[ofsevenkingdoms]

gildedseashell‌:

The smile that grew on her face was likely just as shy as Maron’s, but Jeyne was rarely one to feel embarrassed by the forthright nature that sometimes reared its ugly head. “I’m not worried,” she responded, well aware that she should be there to discuss Rollam more than to discuss the vague feelings that had lingered from their night together. Had she ever felt a chemistry like this with anyone else before? Jeyne wasn’t certain but she was certain that she wanted to see Maron again – and as more than Rollam’s teacher. Her eyes met his and the blue was as captivating as it had been before; Jeyne ran her hand through her hair, ignoring the vibration of her phone once more.

Her stomach twisted and Jeyne struggled to define the feeling behind it. It wasn’t quite anticipation, but it was rather close; perhaps Jeyne was simply content in the knowledge that this was going to be more than one night. Her lips curved upwards once more and she nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be back. As soon as I meet with the geography instructor. Rumor has it he gives extra credit if the parents can name every city in Essos.” With one more smile, Jeyne turned and headed to the geography classroom, where it turned out that the rumors were, in fact, incredibly unfounded. She nodded at the right times, however, and when the conference was up, she allowed herself one moment to check her phone and respond to a couple of messages before going back to see Maron.

She waited until the next parent left and then Jeyne knocked on the door frame, her smile less guarded. “I think that may have been the longest half hour of my life.”

“Don’t forget Lhazar - his wife’s from there and he loves to catch people out on it.” Maron called after her, fully aware that the rumour was not true despite games of recall being his colleagues favorite. What followed was the most droll half an hour of his life. He tried to be professional, god he really did, but between constant glances at the clock and total zoning out while Megga Tyrell’s father tried to tell him that his daughter deserved a better grade on a paper she had so clearly not studied for just because he wanted her to get into some prestigious course at the University of White Harbour. It took all of Maron’s willpower not to tell him to fuck off and take the bad grade up with his daughter. He did not have so much of it, however, not to cut in when the clock started to show it was coming up on thirty minutes and assure the man that he was not the kind of man who could be swayed with harsh words when he had harsher words of his own. 

Time was wasting, and Maron had more important places to be. His goodbye to Megga’s father was stilted and quick, as he hastily shoved his papers into the drawers of his desk to be dealt with tomorrowr. “Likewise. Good things come to those who wait though, no?” He joked,  as he grabbed his keys and jacket to head out the door. The classroom was bathed in darkness with a flick of the switch, and the door was locked, and finally, after weeks (and then half an hour), he got what he he’d wanted - a damn date with Jeyne Westerling (formerly known only as hot-Jeyne-from-Asha’s-party). “There’s a Pentoshi restaurant a few blocks away, if you’re into that?” He said, holding open the door for her as they left the school building and entered the now almost-empty carpark. “We could take my car and then double back later, or we could walk - it’s not too far if you’re okay in those shoes.” 

[ofsevenkingdoms]

💬 — robb & maron

Robb: guess i should start planning my funeral now. i'm fucked either way

Robb: you're a dick

Robb: how long do you think you have until you fuck it up?

Maron: can i do the eulogy? i'll make it super heartfelt whilst also being very clear that u died from using ur dick instead of ur brain

Maron: well u know what people say... u r what u eat 😏

Maron: probably until she ever sees these texts lmao

Maron: longer than i reckon you've got until you reach ur expiry date with forrester - what's your call?

[ofsevenkingdoms]

callhercella‌:

ofsolstice‌:

illyrio’s cafe | renly + cella + loras + leonette + margaery

@xwesterosi   @stompingonadreamau  @callhercella  @ofsevenkingdoms​

he had woken up late for brunch, his alarm blaring the latest top 100 song he had heard on set just last week. but it wasn’t his fault - just this once - not when it was starting to snow again outside and he had his arms around loras in the bleak light of the sunday morning sun. but after bundling up and guzzling down a pre-brunch flask of coffee, they had finally made a fashionably late appearance at brunch ( it came with the territory of being them ). it hadn’t taken long after their first date for renly to absolutely adore his boyfriend’s sisters - honestly, how could he not love both margaery and leonette? he had always been fickle and petty about meeting the family, but that was because he had cersei and selyse as sisters. ( he still wasn’t sure selyse knew his name, and she’d married stannis before renly’s tenth birthday. ) so he had taken an immediate shine to loras’ family - plus brunch wasn’t brunch without cella, it never would be. 

“ i’m just saying, ” renly called out over everyone’s debate, shaking his head fondly even as he took a big gulp of his matcha latte. ( he had a mimosa as well, he wasn’t a complete heathen. ) “ that if we took a road trip to sunspear next week, we could all escape the christmas dinners. ” he had spent the first half hour of brunch complaining about baratheon christmases, complete with matching jumpers and the inevitable fight that broke out. last year had been him and stannis yelling at each other from across the kitchen, and it had only ended with him throwing the turkey at his brother and cersei ordering pizza instead. “ think about it! the weather’s sunny, we can chill by the pool - come on, tell me i’m wrong. ” he looked over at the person next to him, blue eyes imploring but there was a smile on his lips. “ you know you wanna go to sunspear. ”

brunch was practically sacred to myrcella. she supposed it was a bit cliche, given her lifestyle, but she was a woman who brunched, dammit, so what if joffrey or her mother sneered whenever she mentioned their standing reservation at illyrio’s. it certainly helped that brunch often followed a night out at this function or that club event - if there was anything she’d learned from her parents, it was that a little hair of the dog was the best hangover cure around. and so she’d arrived at their usual table at their usual cafe - early, as always, looking perfectly put together, as always - with a pounding headache and shades so big they covered half her face. 

( she’d gotten through a mimosa and a half before she’d dared to take them off )

with her uncle’s words, thoughts of trystane martell’s hazel eyes came to her mind unbidden, and suddenly the idea of christmas in sunspear had a certain appeal. certain her uncle knew just what he was doing, she shot him a glare with no real heat behind it. “oh, like you’d ever miss a baratheon family christmas,” she teased, “you’d have to watch joffrey open the lump of coal you give him every year from afar, and is a little sun really worth missing which shade of purple he’ll turn this year?” baratheon christmases, as her uncle had explained to the table, were an absolute nightmare. except, she kind of loved them. nothing was ever quite so interesting as watching her stoic uncle stannis get into a screaming match with someone new each year. even when joffrey got particularly cruel or someone particularly drunk, between renly and uncle jaime (with a whispered don’t tell your mom) sneaking her drinks since before she was truly old enough to be drinking, she could never quite bring herself to hate family christmas. “now - new years in sunspear is a whole other matter entirely.”

Loras was an early riser - he was always the first in the apartment to wake, though he mostly had to wiggle his way out of Renly’s embrace to get to work early in preparation season. Brunch day, was, however, slightly different - he never had the heart to extricate himself from his boyfriend’s arms on a Sunday, which meant they often showed up very late for brunch when Renly had to snooze his alarm so many times and Loras was content to lie there and not aid in his waking in favor of cuddling up in his arms. By some stroke of luck they’d managed to make it here before brunch hour slipped officially to lunch hour, and Loras was filled with joy as he sat around with those he loved, sipping on his almond milk latte and leaning against Renly’s side. 

“Cella is really on to something, we should definitely go to Sunspear for New Years.” Loras pouted exaggeratedly, already scrolling through his phone to look for AirBNBs free over the holiday period. “Oooh, there’s a cute place near the Threefold Gate that looks gorgeous... I miss the summery cocktails with the little umbrellas in them. Besides I’ll need at least three hours in the sun for every one hour I have to talk to Stannis, no offence babe, or Cersei, no offence Cella, at Christmas.” He shrugged, wondering if getting his grandmother to call him during the dinner to pretend there was an emergency was too petty a thing to do - he knew she’d agree, but he didn’t think he’d ever be able to bring himself to be so selfish as to abandon his love with his brother and sisters-in-law. “Tyrell Christmas is far more stress free - you guys should all just come to Highgarden instead. I’m sure ‘Nette and Mar would agree, right?” He smiled at his sisters over the rim of his coffee cup, which he held aloft with his palms wrapped around it for warmth. Christmas at Highgarden was excruciatingly tasteful, perfectly lowkey and an event Loras was sure his mother spent a good month in the run up meticulously organizing - the more the merrier had always been her saying too, even if that didn’t usually mean runaway Baratheons.

@stompingonadreamau​

[ofsevenkingdoms]

thearbor-desmera‌:

“Precisely.” Her tone was sure, as if she was simply stating a fact instead of sharing her opinion in a work meeting and conversation. “And as you’ve seen from my schedule today, there’s a lack of room for bullshit in it.” Her lips turned up as if she was sharing a private joke and Desmera briefly opened the menu to ensure that the salad she preferred – salmon, with Gorgonzola and lemon-dill dressing – was still being served.

A brow arched as she learned the other woman wanted the still life and as Sylva described the exhibition she was curating, Desmera’s interest was evident in her expression, eyes engaged and lips slowly turning up at the corners. “That’s quite impressive,” she responded, pausing briefly to thank the server who poured them each a glass of the wine that she’d ordered. “I agree with you about the Hightower. She’s very adept at using light in a way that encapsulates that time period while also showcasing how people viewed such mundane objects. I’ve encountered many who find her still life paintings to be rather derivative, but I would disagree.”

It was rare for Desmera to agree with others about art so easily and her head tilted to the side as her eyes widened. “I may have something else that might interest you, though it might not fit the parameters of this exhibition. Alysanne Norcross is rather underappreciated, especially her charcoals, but she has a series of six small portraits – all of the same woman, taken from the first six decades of life. They’re meant to be shown as a set, in order, but they’ve never been shown publicly in Westeros before.” Norcross, an 18th-century artist from near Highgarden, was known more for her pencil drawings than anything else and Desmera’s family had purchased the charcoal set from a distant relative of the subject years ago.

Sylva laughed, finding some novelty in Desmera’s matter-of-fact way of speaking. She seemed so sure of every word that fell from those red-painted lips and it was a refreshing change from the um-ing and ah-ing that characterized her art-industry colleagues. The time she’d had waiting had been put to use deciding in advance what she would have - a house-made gnocchi in a roasted capsicum sauce that had instantly caught her eye. When the server came to pour their wine, she took the opportunity to order, wanting to keep things moving when it seemed Desmera had a million things to do in her busy schedule, requesting the gnocchi and then handing over to her company to order. It was the professional thing to do, even if it were at odds with the fact she felt a little as though she’d like to sit here and listen to her talk about art for hours on end. 

She could claim to be many things, but humble was not one of them. The first sip of wine was accompanied by a knowing shrug, and a smile. Sylva thanked the server and then turned back to their conversation, holding the glass aloft on the way to her lips. “This is good - whoever made it really knows what they’re doing.” She smirked, knowing full well who that person was. There was also no attempt made to hide how impressed she was with Desmera’s opinion of the merit of the Hightower - clearly she was not the kind of collector who threw her money thoughtlessly wherever trend and prestige lead her. “As would I. To think paintings of such high skill and beauty derivative seems a crime to me.”  

Sylva’s area of expertise was Dornish art, though she had spent a little time studying the practice of artists from the Iron Islands and the North while still at university - art from the Reach, however, had become an obsessive interest for her ever since taking the job as curator for the Oldtown Museum of Art and getting her hands on the capital of the Reach’s beautiful collection. She’d come across a few works by Norcross in her time here, beautiful, tender pencil drawings of figures one could not help but become fond of. Sylva had a print of one - two women walking in a garden - stuck to her fridge. “I think I’ve read about that somewhere... but I assumed it was lost or buried in a collection without anyone knowing its significance as most of her works are.” Sylva breathed a sigh of excitement, though it was subdued as ever for a woman who wore nonchalance like armour. “I’d love for it to be seen the way Norcross intended it - if I can weave it into the exhibition, I think it would do wonders for putting her more on the map as is deserving of an artist of such high caliber that the history books have so often left out.” She puntuated her pause with a sip from her wineglass. “Of course, that is if you’d be willing to lend it to me- us, I mean.” Sylva corrected, collected as ever despite realising that she was thinking of this all too personally, too fast. 

[ofsevenkingdoms]

💬 — robb & maron

Robb: fucking hell

Robb: which one?

Robb: you're going out with a woman with a child?

Robb: shit, the sex must really be great.

Maron: rodrik forrester he plays number 4 i think

Maron: the kid's her brother. he lives with her so he can go to a good school i didnt stand a chance mate the only thing i've ever done for my brother is vomming in his bar's bathroom and blaming it on u... shes straight up perfect idk

Maron: but your point stands anyway i promise u

[maurawrites]

HERLITO in 1x07

[ofsevenkingdoms]

@ofsolstice

[ofsevenkingdoms]

💬 — robb & maron

Robb: she's way too good for me. even i know that.

Robb: you embarrassed a woman in public and she still agreed to go out with you?

Robb: with your track record, that's nothing short of another one of those christmas miracles.

Robb: not hard to outdo you mate.

Maron: glad we're on the same page as mira's brothers

Maron: one of them plays for deepwood and he's massive so don't fuck up

Maron: oh even worse - i hooked up with a stranger at my sister's holiday party and then she showed up at my parent interviews on tuesday out of nowhere

Maron: we've already been out twice since then so uhhh yeah looks like i outdid u

[ofsevenkingdoms]

💬 — robb & maron

Robb: it was fucking mistletoe. i grew up seeing it all the time. not my fault it didn't have leaves yet.

Robb: fuck you, greyjoy

Robb: not sure i care to be called 'extremely hot' by teenagers but she's not wrong.

Robb: what happened was i got a date. Stark: 1. Greyjoy: 0.

Maron: it didnt have leaves so it was....... a twig

Maron: i still can't believe Mira said yes to going on a date with you but it looks like Christmas miracles really do happen

Maron: Stark: 1. Greyjoy: also 1.

Maron: you really think i'd let you outdo me? not likely

[ofsevenkingdoms]

💬 — robb & maron

Robb: maybe if you had some game your class would prefer to gossip about your...well i wouldn't call it a love life

Robb: you owe me for not telling me how fucking hot mira is

Maron: idk what part of you assumes i'd want a bunch of highschoolers theorising about my personal life but then again this is all coming from a guy who had to pretend a fuckin twig was mistletoe to get a date

Maron: no offence but it never even occurred to me that she'd give u more than a glance

Maron: actually no scrap that, full offence 😈

Maron: what's the full story then? i need this first hand bc the student i heard this from called you 'extremely hot' so clearly she's not a credible source

[ofsevenkingdoms]

stompingonadreamau‌:

The woman seemed pretty hungover, a malady that Mya was all too familiar with, both from firsthand experience and the fact that she saw a plethora of customers just like her each weekend, especially on Sunday’s. At her initial order, Mya nodded her head, curls bouncing slightly as she waltzed to the counter and grabbed a freshly brewed pot and poured it into a mug. She set the steaming cup in front of the woman before calling to the kitchen. “I’m gonna need a hangover special over here!”

Mya gave the woman a smile and shrugged. “You’ll get a heaping plate of fried and greasy. I won’t be offended if you put on those sunglasses, by the way. I have been there a time or two myself.” She joked, simultaneously wiping the next table over and replacing salt shakers and sugars, neatly arranging them. She had quite the nack for chatting and working all at the same time. She was a pretty successful multitasker at this point. “It always seems a good idea at the time, huh?” She continued. “Were you celebrating anything?”

“You are a gods-send.” Sylva sighed, pushing her sunglasses back onto her face and wrapping her cold hands gratefully around the mug. Hungover as she was, she appreciated the waitresses chattiness as a distraction from the clamoring headache pounding between her temples. “To be fair, it was a pretty fun night, but gods, I’m really paying for it this morning.” Such was the price she was willing to pay for a good time. “It was the work Christmas party, unfortunately. There’s truly nothing like getting horrifyingly drunk in front of the people who work for and the people who work for you.”

Sylva laughed, and took a large gulp of her coffee, totally uncaring of the way it burned her mouth. “But I don’t know what I expected. I’ve never been any good at self control.” Especially not when she didn’t have to pay for her own drinks. “The fact that you have a hangover special suggests you’ve probably seen it all in here right?” She chuckles, her voice low and tired after a night of chaos. “Got any cautionary horror stories?”

[ofsevenkingdoms]

@xwesterosi​ - tybolt & maron

Maron checked his phone when it buzzed in his pocket - a notification reminding him he was due now at Tybolt Crakehall’s campaign headquarters opaque over a picture of Jeyne across the table at the vineyard he’d taken her to to celebrate a success for some huge event she was working on. It was a useless notification, he was already there, waiting outside Tybolts office with a stack of papers in his hand to go over with him. With the school year over for Christmas, Maron had had enough free time on his hands to collate some research for the would-be election victor. 

Before he’d given up academia and research in pursuit of less isolating things, Maron had been one of the country’s leading experts in marine biology, particularly the ecology of the Sunset Sea which, as it happened, was the newest victim to President Lannister’s vicious offshore drilling policies. As passionate as he was about helping an old friend, he was even more passionate about preserving such a diverse and unique piece of the world that had been so integral to the culture and way of life in Iron Islands for generations. 

Naturally, he’d welcomed the offer of a meeting when Crakehall’s people had gotten in touch, and when the door to his office swung open, the last appointment cleared out and Maron stood up from where he’d been waiting, he smiled, extending his hand. “Long time no see, Crakehall. Good to see you never developed cauliflower ear like bloody Lyle.”

[ofsevenkingdoms]

@xwesterosi​ - loras & margaery

Loras loved a party, it had to be said. Between the rigorous training schedule at the ballet, and trying to get everything ready for the holidays, there had been remarkably little time for revelry. Even this party, lavish as it was, was more a family obligation than anything else, but that was not to say he wouldn’t be enjoying the evening. He loved his family after all, and any event was instantly better if it was a chance to snatch a moment with his sister. Their lives had gotten so busy, but nothing could ever truly keep them apart for long. 

They had assumed their usual position at a party - standing close together with their heads bent forward in quiet conversation. As usual too, they were the best dressed people in the room, glowing examples of Highgarden’s legacy in the generations after Olenna Tyrell’s time in power. Loras’ vintage dark green velvet coat had been painstakingly tailored to fit him perfectly, and the loose, silky shirt he wore underneath was unbuttoned a button more than was really appropriate for winter, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. The rest of the ensemble was all disgustingly expensive, and mostly picked by Renly, so it was safe to say he felt okay standing next to the most beautiful woman in Westeros - an opinion shared by both an adoring brother and a good number of online gossip sites. 

“How is it that Tybolt Crakehall is so bloody handsome, but his brother looks like a ham sandwich grew arms and legs?” Loras snickered from behind his crystal champagne glass as he watched the man of the hour and his sibling interacting across the room. “It’s awful really.” 

[ofsevenkingdoms]

aryaorarentya‌:

Arya raised a brow in question at her response. It wasn’t unexpected, certainly. Everyone knew that cigarettes were bad. Every other commercial bitched about it. While the health hazard was concerning, Arya was far more annoyed by the smell. They just smelled miserable and the smoke infected everything near it. She could smell a smoker the instant they walked in a room, much to her dismay. “And yet you still do it. Are you a fatalist or something?” She shrugged. “Running from the cops isn’t an interest or niche of mine. It’s simply a byproduct of it.”

“Likewise.” She responded simply, her eyes roaming the apartment complex. “If I were a murderer, I certainly wouldn’t tell you.” Nor would she be running on foot or stopping anywhere until she got to one of her brothers. “I was tagging a new building when the cops drove by. I assume they had nothing better to do tonight, and it was one that recognizes me. It’s not that big a deal.”

“It’s a stress thing - I don’t smoke often, just when life gets... a bit much. Which it currently is with work, and Christmas, and all that shit.” Sylva gave a nonplussed flick of her hand. There were better things to do with her time than give an expose on the intricacies of her coping mechanisms to a judgmental, delinquent stranger. 

“Fair.” Sylva shrugged, and laughed ever so slightly. “The less I know the better when I’m called into court, right?” This girl didn’t seem like a murderer - just someone looking to make a bit of trouble and get the adrenaline kicking. “Oh thank the gods, that’s pretty tame as far as crimes go - I can’t say I find much of a problem in being a nuisance for some rich developer. Art is art whether its on a gallery wall or a slab of concrete, right?” She smirked, and put her hands in her pockets against the cold sneaking in from outside. “The cops recognise you? Fuck, you must be prolific. Done anything big and impressive ‘round here that I might have seen?”