#asobai.start

[saltbcrne]

🦑 — can be on any of the days in whichever public setting most fits your character.

"you've a group of admirers, you know." harlon's voice was quiet, carried over their shoulder by the breeze and only just audible. he aimed for conspiratorial, with his wine - stained lips curled up at the corners, countenance kept light and open, and the mischief in his eyes tempered to a glint. really, he was on his best behavior. "they huddle together just to your left over there, and turn away every time you so much as glance in their general direction, so as to not get caught gawking, i presume." i saw them, though, harlon thought. just as i saw you. he canted his head to the side then, ignoring the few dark strands that fell loose from behind his ear, and gestured at them with the small flower he'd been twirling — one he'd plucked from a display. "have you noticed?"

[altaraed]

contrary  to  popular  belief,  the  death  of  the  princess  regent  gave  her  no  relief  ─  though  seeds  of  animosity  had  grown  between  the  dragons  and  the  heirs  of  the  dreadfort  after  the  northern  civil  war,  barbrey  knew  better  than  to  rejoice  in  the  passing  of  the  only  person  who  had  kept  the  realm  at  peace.  much  like  the  abandoned  marketplace  just  outside  the  gates  of  the  red  keep,  the  rot  that  dwelled  within  house  targaryen  would  soon  manifest  once  appropriate  measures  were  taken  to  mourn  their  losses  and  barbrey,  as  regent  of  house  bolton,  would  have  some  difficult  decisions  to  make.  already  her  advisors  had  warned  her  against  allying  herself  with  the  dragons  of  king's  landing  (  let  us  stick  to  one  rebellion  in  our  lifetime,  they  had  persuaded  )  but  a  voice  that  sounded  like  her  exiled  brother  hissed  at  the  prospect  of  bowing  before  the  new  king.  to  get  away  from  her  advisors  and  her  thoughts,  barbrey  had  decided  to  go  for  a  stroll  through  the  empty  marketplace,  fingers  brushing  against  one  of  the  targaryen  banners,  blustering  in  the  wind,  when  her  gaze  caught  sight  of  another  just  in  front  of  her,  seemingly  as  unaccompanied. ❝  you  ought  not  to  walk  alone,  my  liege.  paranoia  still  grips  the  capital  and  one  might  assume  you  are  up  to  no  good.  ❞  the  wind  carried  her  voice  as  she  called  out  to  them.

open    starter    (    0  /  3  )    +    @warstudy,    @weirfyre.

[inferncls]

CLOSED STARTER ! ERENA REED ( @fearprevails )

❝ do you think we'd see blood today ? ❞ his words were tossed with accompanying warmth , the kind reserved for those who hold familiarity . such is the case with sebastian reyne , the same face of kindness extended to those he happens upon . whether or not it was reciprocated didn't matter , he appeared to have plenty more to spare . especially to those he sees or hear so little of , he can't remember the last time he had seen lady erena of house reed . or if he ever did besides doing so in passing . ❝ whenever a tournament like this is held , it's the bloody matches that leave a mark . i don't recall honor ever having color , and red at that . wouldn't gold or silver be more fitting ? ❞

[inferncls]

CLOSED STARTER ! DORAN SWANN ( @intheweirwood )

❝ finally , lord doran swann . in the flesh . ❞ there were names spoken one too many times , patrons and prominent figures that frequent places they're not supposed to . sebastian isn't one to find solace in those corners , but those he kept for company do , and those he kept for company talk . not even the stretch of land of the reach could stop the wind from bringing whispers of lord swann's name to the westerlands . there is recognition , a familiar silhouette in gasps and breaths that came along with his name . like looking at a distorted image of himself , in another body , in another form . a version of himself that carried swords and marched in wars — interesting is not a word fit to describe it , but for now it will do . ❝ your cavalry has quite a reputation , and so do you . i'm sure you hear that many times . ❞

[inferncls]

CLOSED STARTER ! LOREN LANNISTER ( @lorvn )

the second day is another joyous day for merchants , and sebastian , like the day before chose to be generous . still , the stench of blackwater rush lingers , the wind revealing what has been meticulously concealed in preparation for more festivities in the days to come . had he not taken it upon himself to be fastidious , the details will be lost in the deception . ❝ good morrow , lord lannister . ❞ the bank is now lined with stalls that carried wines of all kinds and other delectables . he applauds the attempt at removing the unsightly displays that typically plagued the area , but certainly not all that is displeasing can be disposed of . the annoyance begins to bloom rapidly , the resemblance is uncanny . even more so at this close of a distance , he'd have rolled his eyes if he could . ❝ this place has been transformed , i almost didn't recognize it . they almost succeeded in cleaning up all the scum — ❞ save some ... he holds his tongue . ❝ nevertheless , the stroll has been delightful . as i hope with yours ? ❞ he maintained the affable façade , flawless and well - crafted . dare he say that he fools himself with the courtesy even .

[inferncls]

CLOSED STARTER ! HARLON GREYJOY ( @saltbcrne )

a semblance of relief settles between his brows . with the joust and the crowning of queens and champions have concluded , so will his sister's nagging about participating . he could not find it in himself to clamor at steeled duels and cheers , like the rest of the other lords and knights , nor did he judged any of them for it . his appetite simply had another face , one that not scratched armors and bloodied blades could keep at bay . on the contrary , nothing still or brimming with life could . he approaches the lord of pyke , with suspicious ease and familiarity , ❝ i heard curious whispers pertaining to the recent tragedy that has struck our good country , ❞ it is in tensed halls of fine silken tongues and velveteen trappings that this appetite thrives — where terror sneaks itself between breaths , greater effort slithers on shaking fingers to uphold faultlessness , and condolences , good - will spill from drying lips . ❝ should anyone ask what i have been doing the night of , or say , inquire about my whereabouts ... ❞ the ocean stirs in his eyes , a collection of low rumblings and blinding mist takes on a cloak of opulence , fine features , and a noble name . the real tourney has just began . ❝ shall i say we were discussing all the trade routes we have explored ? ❞ his hushed words were far from enticing , luring , and entrapping , yet the honey that dripped from each one tasted sweet and decorated with just the right amount of provocation . ❝ or would you rather i disclose that i have been exploring you ? ❞

[inferncls]

CLOSED STARTER ! TRYSTANE BLACKWOOD ( @godbvrns )

the whispers about house blackwood had reach him long before they were called to the capital . assertions in the guise of whispers , that is . a prestigious bloodline with roots buried deep into the soils of westeros itself . his mind began weaving its plans , a forged fateful encounter must take shape , and only an unsuspecting circumstance is necessary for the masterplan . and as the faithful insist at the presence of sheer luck , the gods provide . the perfect moment took a while , but it arrived , not with luck , not with black magic that the blackwoods allegedly dabble with , but with a royal summon . ❝ i don't believe we had the pleasure of an introduction , lord blackwood . ❞ meeting and introductions are the only goals , mimic apparitions in their fleeting state , a gust of wind brushing on cheeks , a whiff of dulcet musk . ❝ unfortunate that it had to be in this time of mourning . ❞ his cordial reputation is a stronghold , quick to dispel suspicions . nothing out of the ordinary with the youngest son of lord caspor reyne working a room , as he does in most gatherings .

[inferncls]

CLOSED STARTER ! ALON HIGHTOWER ( @melicos )

the third day of has proven more eventful than the day prior . the nobles of westeros were not alone in being granted permission to parade themselves to show off . valiancy was not spared in the tournament fields whilst everyone gathered to watch . sigils sewn on banners and carved on armors were put on full display , mounted on proud steeds . there was no shortage on cheers and merriment — too much for his liking but this raw display of violence is a better sight , that's for sure . ❝ were there attempts to talk you in to participate in the joust as well , lord alon ? ❞ in the hands of drunken bliss is where veils fall away , and suppressed desires come to light . the duel between one's self is the superior form of entertainment , and it happens nowhere else but the stands when most are fools to follow the delights of the herd . ❝ in my defense , if i did take part , i would learn less down there than up here . ❞