#freehold

[twogth]

cat spread! These 4 will be stickers soon…. waiting on my test prints 😁

[deadmotelsusa]

The American Hotel of Freehold, New Jersey, pictured in the 1950s and 2024. The property has been drastically renovated and is now a popular wedding venue.

[lostinthewastelandrp]

PRINCESS ISLANDRIEL AERYN (appears 29) Elle Fanning - TAKEN BY LAUREN Nationality: Freeholder/Vatonese Condition: Feyan/Wytch/Were/Vamp/Human-Hybrid – Pyrokinesis/Deathtouch Position: Princess of Vatonis  Alignment: Freehold/Vatonis Starting: Freehold Relationship(s): Emrys Aeryn (grandfather/council member), Aomon Aeryn (deceased father), Sybelle Aeryn (deceased mother), Aouine Aeryn, Endreth Aeryn, Miralas Aeryn (sisters), Findon Aeryn (half-brother), Lada Koskei (stepmother/potential council member), Ziva Xirath (stepsister), Eramis Aeryn (uncle/potential council member), Andarne Aeryn, Ormond Aeryn (cousins), Vida Arion (best friend), Adalet Atamon (believed deceased best friend), Kresimir Koskei (interest)

islandriel sometimes laughs that she is, indeed, a princess of ivory – she cannot be touched

yet, this is no haughty claim of superiority when it comes to islandriel but, rather, an admission of weakness

islandriel, it is said, is cursed

while it took some time for the curse to show itself, she learned too late, and too terribly, just which power was in her multi-hybrid-blood

islandriel was a soul-stealer

her touch is lethal

while all her sisters had received betrothals when they came of age, islandriel, alone, had proven lucky in hers

soon enough coming to share a tender love with her future husband

yet, their love was doomed

the very first time his lips brushed hers, her flame scoured him, burning him from inside out, and leaving him dead at her feet

since that time, islandriel has not dared to touch another living soul for fear of the horrid end they might meet

now, though, faced with the games and those who would steal what little she and her sisters have left...

perhaps now it is time to unleash her curse against all those who would stand against them…

her betrothed has been some time dead, its true, but she will never forget him, or the life they planned together

their dream was to see the world set to rights, and now she’s hellbent on seeing that through both for him and for herself

and -- gifted by her combined hybridization -- as well as a claim, she believes she has the gifts necessary to see this through...

[i35e]

Boro Records, NJ.

[valyriascribe]

The Freehold

In the northern reaches of the capital, where volcanoes spat their fire into the sky, one of Valyria’s famed topless spires; a tall black tower knifing upward into the night, its upper reaches lost in darkness, came into view.

Fire-lit balconies jutted from the spire at dizzying heights, each glowing high from braziers that sputtered embers into the hot winds. The air surrounding the balconies felt oppressive with the heat, carrying the acrid mingling of soot and blood.

From the depths below, drums thundered relentlessly. Dark shadows twisted upon walls of fused black stone, making the dragon gargoyles appear to writhe in ecstatic agony. It felt as though the tower itself were coming alive, while their own were circling the sky, intoxicated by the same madness that gripped those within.

Inside the tower, the air was dark and dreamlike, hundreds of flames guttering in their sconces. Dark shadows danced upon silver-white hair and bare skin, some wet with blood. A dozen dragonlords of the Freehold had gathered here, driven by insatiable appetites for pleasure and excess.

Most were naked, adorned only in jewels. They sprawled upon cushions or lounged against stone pillars, tangled together or entwined with slaves. Everywhere bodies coupled freely, men with women, men with men, women with women; there was no distinction. They took each other recklessly, obeying no law but pleasure itself.

Slaves in iron collars moved among the dragonlords, expressions dulled by intoxication and terror alike. Some would survive the night, and others would not. One slave with vacant eyes knelt as a human footstool for a lanky Valyrian lord, trembling each time he struck her arse.

Near the tower’s center, two male slaves fucked, observed by dragonlords who watched eagerly, pleasuring themselves. Nearby, another dragonlord poured a powder into his cup of blood-laced wine, casting aside his garments as he fixed his attention to a young slave, preparing to claim her next.

On a pile of cushions by the balcony, a silver-haired woman lay locked in a writhing embrace with a handsome collared youth while he pleased her. A few paces away, another dragonlord chuckled as he traced the dagger’s tip along the inner thigh of a whimpering black-haired slave girl, drawing forth a line of blood.

One dragonlord named Kaelar was pounding into a slave from behind. Amid his motions, he raised a cup high and declared loudly, "We know not if this Freehold shall fall into ruin or rise toward redemption. Yet the blood of the dragon runs strong—stronger than any blood in this world!"

One of the dragonlords applauded while fucking a male slave, nicking his body with his blade and licking the blood away.

From atop the dais, the high priest sneered, "Bend down, whore," forcing the woman roughly onto her knees. Her cry vanished under the relentless beat of drums and drunken cheers. As he began thrusting into her, he drew his dragonglass blade across her throat. She crumpled without a sound, blood spilling upon the obsidian floor.

"For Valyria and the Zaldrīz Ārlinta," the priest spat, lifting the bloody knife high as a feral cry erupted from the gathered dragonlords. They raised their cups, their eyes glazed and faces twisted in ecstasy, as above them the dragons screamed uneasily.

Another naked dragonlord called aloud, "Should we set these slaves free? They are the source of our headpain!"

The other dragonlords booed in drunken disdain. "No! Kill them all!" he cried.

The slaves abruptly froze, terror flaring in their eyes, then surged desperately toward the stairs, seeking escape. But guards swiftly formed a line, blocking their path. At the dragonlords' nods, the guards seized the slaves and drew blades sharply across each throat, one after another.

The remaining slaves cried out and also tried to run, but the guards seized them all, cutting them down each one, their blood spilling across the floor.

"What a pity—I wanted that one young," a dragonlord said. "Well, I still can, actually."

"For the Fourteen Flames!" one dragonlord cheered. "This blood shall please the gods, and the Zaldrīz Ārlīnta! May his reign be..." He faltered, groping for words.

"May it show the Freehold cannot be conquered," another finished fiercely.

As the last slaves collapsed lifelessly upon the floor, the high priest barked, "No, do not defile the dead. Their blood is needed for our rites, to ensure the Dragon Reborn…" He paused, and then laughed. "To ensure he is… properly comforted."

The dragonlords began gathering the spilled blood, knowing it would serve their sorcery, ensuring the Freehold’s power.

"For the Zaldrīz Ārlinta!" they cheered together.

Another priest snarled in disgust. "Do not toast his name in celebration, you fools! He shall be our downfall. Better that the council slay every last bastard son born beneath this cursed omen."

High above, the dragons wheeled, their piercing cries roaring through the darkness. Then, as if sensing the horror below, they turned and vanished into the night.

[boxwright]

FREEHOLD - Phil Collins

[aryburn-trains]

Santa gets a few seconds to rest before another child is placed upon his lap, while his ride (NS GP40-2 3022) takes a rest in the background. Santa sat here for two-and-a-half hours visiting with the local children before moving up the line to his next stop. Merry Christmas. Freehold, NJ December 12, 2009

[frankiefellinlove]