Noah Kahan
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Xuebing Du
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@silentkraken
//ugh I hate to do this but I’m seriously considering deleting this blog. I have so much crap to deal with in real life that it’s getting near impossible to find time to roleplay in general. Add me on Skype if you want to chat it up (kakatary). Otherwise, expect that this blog might disappear in the next couple of days.
//ugh I hate to do this but I'm seriously considering deleting this blog. I have so much crap to deal with in real life that it's getting near impossible to find time to roleplay in general. Add me on Skype if you want to chat it up (kakatary). Otherwise, expect that this blog might disappear in the next couple of days.
Arrachtaigh na Farraige // Mikail & Euron
As they entered the Captain’s Quarters, Euron closed the door behind them and moved swiftly around to the other side where he glanced over the maps that were strewn over the wood. He simply overlooked them as he returned his one-eyed gaze to the man in front of him. He stroked his beard for a moment, debating whether to bring the truth of Euron’s true nature upon the stranger.
He decided to play it out a while longer.
"Have you heard of a man they call Crow’s Eye, perhaps? It’s painfully obvious that you are not from the area, but perhaps the stories from these lands have reached you?" The captain raised an eyebrow.
He did not sit down, even though his chair was a step away. Instead, he stood leaning forward slightly towards the young man. The simple fact that this boy was requesting work from Euron, himself, was evidence enough that he was new in the area and had no idea who Euron truly was. He had no idea that the entire crew were mutes, some against their wills, and that the Silence was notorious for its cruelty.
That Euron was notorious for his cruelty.
The cabin was dim as the sun stretched over the sky outside, so Crow’s Eye took it upon himself to light a candle in front of them.
Mikail didn’t care about the closed door, quite used to being alone with those whom he served. It was nothing new, and yet the way Euron looked at him set him faintly on edge. There was something about the man that said he had things hidden, that there were things he wanted no one to know and would kill for. All the younger man cared about was that he was not the one to be killed. Then again, when he offered his loyalty it was until death, as his King had trained him.
Brows knitting faintly at the question, amber eyes fell closed in thought as if he were perfectly comfortable and safe in Euron’s presence. “Aye, M’Lord. I’ve heard of such a man. A man with no equal upon the sea, able to take anything he wants from anywhere. A man strong enough to command the Iron Isles should he so chose. Strong enough to take it.”
His words fell smoothly, a smile playing across his lips faintly as he spoke. There was a need for power in most every man, more so in those who’d had a taste of it. In those who believed that they had a right to the power, who wanted it enough to take it. And what he’d heard of the Crow’s Eye said he was such a man.
Though if this was him, it was slightly worrisome.
“I hear he’s one to silence his crew, but I believe that sometimes leaving at least one with their tongue intact can be quite a bit more fun.” And there was his offer of service. Having been raised to be a whore, he had no qualms offering himself up if it gave him what he wanted. In this case not only a job, but allowed him to keep his tongue should the man agree.
The flame of the candle licked at Euron's fingers, but he paid it no mind. Instead he went on to illuminate more candles so that the entire cabin was alight. The sun was setting lazily over the horizon and darkness was creeping along. With it, an unnatural chill that rose from the ocean where they were docked. It seeped deep into the marrow of men and gripped at the hearts of those unaccustomed to its sensation.
This man, however, seemed unphased by the night's grasp. Salted, Euron deduced, but foolish.
"Unless, of course, Euron is a man who enjoys his solitude. It's no wonder he calls his ship the Silence. I'm quite certain he doesn't fancy the sound of slaves objecting his orders. No wonder he tears the tongues out himself," he placed a hand on his chin in thought, the shine in his eye becoming more animalistic.
Visions of blood gushing from between his fingers and the mouths of unfortunate souls possessed him and he felt a surge of heat rush south. Euron bit the inside of his cheek as he became slightly lightheaded from the screams that echoed within his corrupted skull. Bracing himself on the desk, the visions cleared away to reveal the young man in front of him.
A smirk overcame the quiver of delight that played on his lips, "What use is a man with a tongue to someone such as Crow's Eye?" There is no man more cunning than I, Euron blinked, adjusting his shirt. The material was cool on his boiling skin having been touched by the oncoming glacial night. No, this man would be more trouble than good.
Low Tide | Euron and Victarion
In his brother’s response, Victarion heard something that did not surface before him often. Gone was Euron’s commonplace smirk, and he made no attempt to work his words into a jape against his younger brother. It left the hulking Greyjoy confused; the terse aggravation was more of his own way than of the Crow’s Eye. Is he upset as well, he found himself wondering. It seemed too… sympathetic of the second son of Pyke. He resigned to the thought that he would never know what made Euron act the way he did.
The Crow’s Eye had not even stopped when he offered the single word of response to Victarion, and continued down the perpendicular hall that led deeper into the keep. It vexed the captain, and found himself wondering what it could have been so urgent that his brother had no desire to act himself. Could he be in the grips of aught that distresses him? Suddenly, he found himself very curious; it pleased him to imagine that Euron could suffer as anyone else.
Unlike the lithe and surefooted second son of Quellon Greyjoy, Victarion was heavy of step and wore his plate more oft than not. His pursuit was not a stealthy one, and the scraping of steel sabatons against stone floor echoed down the halls of the Great Keep. The reaver cringed as his clangor preceded him, but it mattered little in truth. If Euron wished not to be followed, he would likely have offered an acerbic remark which would have pushed his younger brother away, but his course was silent. Apprehension crept into the initial curiosity that had stolen Victarion, but he kept behind all the same.
After a time, he begun to feel that the Crow’s Eye was simply walking until he had once more achieved solitude, and the captain stopped himself in a corridor. ”Is it your fancy to darken every hall in Pyke, brother?” Victarion called down. ”Is this what you do instead of answering the Lord Reaper’s summons when he wishes to speak of us?”
"Lord Reaper," Euron mocked viciously, stopping so abruptly in the hall that the air rushed past him, "if he wished so eagerly to speak with me, he should have considered my counsel before he sent his dim-witted boy to die." The captain turned, abreast to the wall with his one eye looking over the hulking form of Victarion.
There was animosity etched into every movement, every facial expression of Euron Greyjoy. His only desire was to win. Power meant everything to the Ironborn man. He hated to lose. And he hated his brothers for letting it happen.
Euron suddenly found himself in hysterics, spiraling out of control of even his own emotions. His smirk was deep, and his cheeks ached with the tautness of hatred and joy that haunted him, "No, Victarion, brother... it is best that I - we - do not speak to Balon while he is consumed in his current grief. He has lost two sons already -- three if you count the seizure of Theon. It would be wiser that we make ourselves scarce during such times. Surely, you understand this."
Balon has lost his sons, Euron repeated to himself, a blessing in disguise. Another plan began to form in his mind even before he willed it. It compelled him. The thirst for power and the Iron Throne enthralled him. His emotions flared uncontrollably once more.
With a bout of laughter, the man turned away from Victarion, his eye smiling darkly, "Brother, walk with me. I wish to hear your thoughts. Ah, tell me about this wife of yours... I hear talk about how dear you are upon her, and about her beauty and grace. Such a catch for a man such as yourself," Euron chuckled once more, the heaviness around him dissipating.
The sound of the ocean's roar wafted in through one of the windows, and Euron was greeted by the smell of salt as he passed by. It gave him shivers and reminded him of where his true home resided. Losing this one would mean nothing to him. And it would only be temporary, he reminded himself, dark intentions filling his mind once more.
Improvement Meme
I figured a small ‘improvement meme’ would be a fine idea for RPers looking to brush up their skills and topple weaknesses, so here it is. Feel free to use the symbols or go for a more in depth response. Yes, you can send any of these to me too.
☢: You need to work on character responses, they tend to be bland.
✄: Your RP responses are really short/ could have more effort put in!
Σ: You’re messing up your punctuation here and there.
▼: Try to improve your spelling/grammar
☯: Try to open up to more RPers, you’re great, but you’re missing out on a lot of potentially amazing RPs!
▲: Try to be more positive on yourself, there’s no reason to hate on yourself so much.
☠: You need to be more respectful.
✈: You need to improve your action sequences or reactions of characters.
❤: You’re doing amazing, we can always improve but every RP I read of yours is a joy.
✉: Message more RPers and get some more activity going please.
Ⓐ: Fight scenes could use more work.
❥: Romantic Scenes can be awkward, do your best to improve on this, and look out for common pitfalls!
☁: You might want to take another look at your character/characters and work on them a bit more. Every great character has a flaw or two.
✪: Joker *Whatever you feel needs to be addressed*
The Silence's Attack || Euron & Margaery
◤♕◢ Her own ability to remain outwardly calm was surprising even to her. Certainly, the captain could see the fear and regret etched onto her face, she had no doubt. But she had not screamed, had not cried. Under other circumstances, she might have, but Euron Greyjoy was not the type to listen to pleas of mercy or to begging, no matter how desperate. It would do no good. So she remained collected.
Until he grabbed her arm, that was. The touch was rough, unexpected, and it shattered her resolve to remain silent and strong for her people. The reachmen - her reachmen - on the cargo ship were begging for their lives. And they would not be given. The thought, along with Euron’s hand digging into her arm was enough to make a dry sob escape her throat, even as she raised her free hand to stifle it.
Then came the fire.
It was hot, even a fair distance away as she was. The heat rolled across the water and hit her like a blast in the face as the ship that she had been on only moments before was engulfed in flames. The oil built the fire into an inferno, the rushing sound of the flames and crackling of burning wood was deafening, but still it could not drown out the screams of her men. Though soon, even they died out.
As tears broke free at last, rolling down her cheeks silently and causing her shoulders to tremble, she sought to look away, unable to take another moment. But almost as if he could read her thoughts, the Greyjoy held her jaw in place, forced her to watch as the burning ship slid beneath the waves, foot by foot. He was vile, disgusting, and his rough hands were almost as horrible to her as the way he pressed himself to her back.
Her every instinct screamed at her to fight him, but her thoughts reminded her of the rumors of Euron’s cruelty. If he would kill her entire crew for her foolish speaking out, she did not want to imagine what he would do to her should she try to strike him.
❝My father will give you gold for my safe return. Anything you want. Just - let me go.❞
Raven-black hair whipped in the ash-ridden air as embers sizzled into the ocean. His eyes were alight with the satisfaction of his deed, the flames massive in his single blue eye. When the screaming of men ended, it seemed that the ship, too, had an eerie wail, the steam of the water and heat of the blaze splintering wood and making it shriek and snap. The sea would consume it.
Margaery was silent, even as the wreckage slipped further and further away into the distance, sinking into the water with the weight of dead men and treachery. Her shoulders quaked as she witnessed the fire do its work. He wondered if she was frightened. As she should be, Euron smirked, unscrupulously caressing the lady's porcelain face with his thumb.
The air now freshened as they put some distance between them and the remains of her ship. His nose and eyes still burned, however, with the sting of cinders, and he found that he was parched after the entire ordeal. He released Margaery from his hold, even as she implored him for her "safe return."
Euron did not dignify her with a response, but merely made his way towards his quarters. It was just below the quarterdeck, separate and away from where his men slept at night below deck; he preferred his solitude.
Men swarmed about the ship like bees in a honeycomb, checking the sails and setting course northwest. Capturing Margaery had been a slight detour, but would not stall his intentions. The Silence was bound for land. If the maiden was smart -- which Euron believed she would be -- she would have an understanding of direction and navigation. She would soon figure out which direction they were sailing to.
The Iron Islands. Home, thought Euron wickedly.
//I'm home now! Hoping to start work on drafts again tomorrow night. Thanks for being patient everyone!
//Been working on my drafts and I'll have them out soon. At my parents' house so I might not be able to work on them until I get back to Berkeley. If you want a starter, let me know!
Crow's Eye, you call me.
Well, who has a keener eye than the crow? After every battle the crows come in their hundreds and their thousands to feast upon the fallen. A crow can espy death from afar. And I say that all of Westeros is dying. Those who follow me will feast until the end of their days.
Ｅｕｒｏｎ ☠ Ｇｒｅｙｊｏｙ ⊰ ⊰ ⊰ silentkraken
》11 years roleplaying experience 》Multi-verse, multi-ship friendly 》Crossover, AU, independent, and OC friendly 》Mun and muse are 18+ 》Member of {Win or Die} roleplay group
☠ || ʜᴏᴍᴇ || ᴍᴇssᴀɢᴇ || ʀᴜʟᴇs || ᴍᴜɴ || ☠
Crow's Eye, you call me.
Well, who has a keener eye than the crow? After every battle the crows come in their hundreds and their thousands to feast upon the fallen. A crow can espy death from afar. And I say that all of Westeros is dying. Those who follow me will feast until the end of their days.
Ｅｕｒｏｎ ☠ Ｇｒｅｙｊｏｙ ⊰ ⊰ ⊰ silentkraken
》11 years roleplaying experience 》Multi-verse, multi-ship friendly 》Crossover, AU, independent, and OC friendly 》Mun and muse are 18+ 》Member of {Win or Die} roleplay group
☠ || ʜᴏᴍᴇ || ᴍᴇssᴀɢᴇ || ʀᴜʟᴇs || ᴍᴜɴ || ☠
Crow's Eye, you call me.
Well, who has a keener eye than the crow? After every battle the crows come in their hundreds and their thousands to feast upon the fallen. A crow can espy death from afar. And I say that all of Westeros is dying. Those who follow me will feast until the end of their days.
Ｅｕｒｏｎ ☠ Ｇｒｅｙｊｏｙ ⊰ ⊰ ⊰ silentkraken
》11 years roleplaying experience 》Multi-verse, multi-ship friendly 》Crossover, AU, independent, and OC friendly 》Mun and muse are 18+ 》Member of {Win or Die} roleplay group
☠ || ʜᴏᴍᴇ || ᴍᴇssᴀɢᴇ || ʀᴜʟᴇs || ᴍᴜɴ || ☠
//leave something?
█▐▐〖 ℛ 〗 — - ❝ It isn’t hard to understand… Everybody craves something. Just so happens the majority crave a crown. ❞
"You say that... as if it is a bad thing."
A moment to appreciate that in trying to write a reply to silentkraken and all I can see is Euron in a batman cape, outspread, and saying ‘i am of the night’
This is the greatest thing ever. Thank you.
//These gizoogled confessions are the best. I'm dying. xD
"What, exactly, do you think you're doing here?"
Low Tide | Euron and Victarion
The failure of Balon’s Rebellion had hit the Isles harder than most anticipated, and the effects were widespread. Balon had drawn himself up into the Sea Tower and had his meals brought to him, not deigning even to sleep in the lord’s bedchambers of Pyke. Alannys had fallen into a madness from losing her sons, and could be heard wailing into the night from any of the castle’s balconies. Worst of all, Aeron, the youngest and most ribald of Balon’s brothers, had been lost to the sea when Stannis Baratheon smashed the Golden Storm clean in two.
Victarion had not been neglected by the woes that befell his kin either. As the Lord Captain, he had involved himself closely in each ship that fell under his command, loving them more than any man could his wives. He had lost half of the loves in his life outside of Fair isle, when the admiral of King’s Landing trapped him between land and sea. Though he was normally one to sleep on his ship even at port, the Ironborn moved his belongings into his old chambers within the Bloody Keep, for he could not bear to look at the sad and sparse number of ships that floated in the seas around the Botley’s demolished hall. He would have to eventually, he knew; tallies need be made, and shipless captains needed their voices brought to the Lord Reaper, but now was a time for mourning.
Victarion brooded ever more on it as he made his way to the Great Keep to take a meal. I did not waver from the orders I was given, he thought woefully, I followed the plan to the letter… Therein he found a bone of contention. Euron made the plan. There was no real reason to suspect that the Crow’s Eye, but still… He has deceived us all in one way or another, the Iron Captain considered sulkily, and he has always delighted in making a fool of me. He might have deliberated further over whether or not he had been sent to Lannisport and Fair Isle to suffer embarrassing defeat and possible death, but the Storm God had a cruel irony to play. Victarion stopped himself short before nearly walking headlong into the very brother he so mistrusted. Quickly, he left the confines of his mind to address the situation. ”Crow’s Eye,” he announced, unable to keep the sheepishness out of his voice, “you move too silently.” He grimaced at his, as if to attempt to make him feel as though the fault was his. ”I shall not bar your way any longer, Euron; I am leaving to take my meal for the evening.” Go about whatever dark deeds you were planning and leave me in peace, for the love of the Drowned God.
The air of the Islands was filled with disappointment and despair at the recent turn of events that Pyke had found itself in. Everyone seemed to hang their heads in sorrow, mourning for sons that did not return home from the battle and were now in the Drowned God's grasp. Each passing face said this. Each face, except one.
Euron's.
The captain of the Silence was not one to weep for the losses reaped from any battle but this defeat left a sour taste in his mouth. His teeth were clenched, forcing his jaw to set stiffly and his hands naturally curled into fists. The dark mood possessed him so that his smiling eye dimmed and he found his patience was thin. Only moments ago he had smacked a whore around for pouring his wine incorrectly. He excused himself when his hand print began to swell into an angry, red lump on the side of her face.
Boots stomped through the hall in this fiery rage, questions filling his heart with even more embitterment. Why had Balon set his sights so far north to Seagard? And what did the man expect when he sent a boy to take it? Euron growled in response to his own question, his mind going beyond the Greyjoy's initial attacks to the counterattack by the throne. Had Balon not expected Robert to fight back? Half of the Iron Fleet rested at the bottom of the ocean due to his brother's lack of forethought and strategy.
His thoughts halted when Victarion came into view. Euron's mood soured further and he could not repress the scowl that crossed his face. "Good." Euron responded crossly, storming past his dull-witted brother.
It was true, Euron had nothing to lose. No children, no wives he loved, and any man lost was just another man to be replaced. His animosity was bred from the fact that his family had failed. They were too weak -- nay, too stupid -- and had been taken by Greenlanders. Bested at sea and bested on Pyke. The throne had been just within his grasp, but it slipped through his fingers like sand.
He swore he would sit on that throne. Euron would do anything to claim it. Now he would simply need to adjust his plans to accommodate this setback.
