#gloriedevent001

[rcslinflcwers]

@maximusgreyjoy

The dress clung to her like it was a second skin and for a brief moment, she regretted the choice. It exposed so much it was hardly proper, far from her usual modest attire. Still, she walked with a confidence that one could only fake. At the very least, she felt more comfortable in the heat, with her back entirely exposed, along with the rest of her body. Her blue eyes scanned the room, desperate for a familiar face in the crowd of highborn. Praying to the Drowned God she adopted to avoid anyone from The Reach. The sight of worn leather armor gave Rosalin a tingling sensation of relief. However, when she usually saw Max her heart raced, this time, it stopped. With a small gasp she walked over to him, hopeful that nobody would notice her. When she reached him, she gave a small smile. Her heart pounded so loud against her chest she was certain everyone could hear it over the chatter. Rosalin wanted to fall into him, to take him, to feel safe with him but--breathing was difficult but she bowed her head slightly before him. “My Lord Greyjoy, I am glad you were able to make it, perhaps we are now one step closer to going home, yes?”

[aliassirensong-blog]

It was obvious from the second that Alia entered the coronation that she was in Essos no longer, she’d been told by a few of her patrons of the continent to the North but she’d never envisioned it being quite so different. She supposed it was the quiet that shocked her the most, the light buzzing of conversations and the gentle strings of harps the only noise to greet her. She suddenly understood why her presence had been requested in the capital, this new ruler had been wise to bring in such a token of the Braavosi culture as it would surely soothe those who had yet to settle. It didn’t take long for the people who had traveled from across the sea to notice such a presence as her, she was alerted to their whereabouts by a series of excited titters that rose above the hum of regular conversation. A bright smile painted it’s way onto her lips as she made her way over to the group of Lords and Ladies, wine was promptly offered to her when she joined the group and she took a small sip as the nobles, who seemed a great deal more lively now that she was there, began to ramble on about this and that. The Courtesan easily fell into the conversation, knowing that her job here was to make the foreigners feel more at home in this strange country she didn’t bother with trying to make her or her kin match the subdued nature of the guests from Westeros.

Soon enough the small group seemed to be having a celebration all their own and it had not escaped Alia’s notice that they had attracted the attention of the other guests as well as the guards who seemed almost nervous, as though they expected one of them to start causing trouble any minute...which knowing the men of Essos and their tendency to grow bold when provoked or prodded was not something she could dismiss as a foolish notion. Kisses on her hand from the men and kisses on her cheeks from the women were bestowed upon her as she said her goodbyes which were laced with promises of returning soon.

If she were back in Braavos Alia would have felt comfortable to simply slip into another conversation with a different group but being in the Capital made her cautious, she’d seen whores here but not Courtesans and while Courtesans were to be revered back home she wasn’t sure how she would be met by the people of Westeros and she had no desire to offend and so the woman slipped away from the larger crowds and found a more secluded place close to where the musicians were playing, she was content to simply close her eyes, sip her wine, and sway softly, taking the music in as reverently as some would a sermon. Being a Courtesan she was used to feeling the gaze of men, and even sometimes women, on her and where some women would perhaps begin to shrink themselves under the weighted gaze Alia paid them no mind. It was only when she heard the footsteps of someone approaching her that her eyes flit open, her amber gaze falling on the stranger “If you’ve come to take me away for disturbing the peace I’d beg of you to at least let me finish this song and my wine” a melodic laugh accompanied her playful tone.

[gloriedgorehq]

the words of murder have grown cold, the unrest among the people grows stronger, for even the crown knows they wish to return home, and like all things, life must go on, must go forward. as previously, the crown and house targaryen, implore you to join them in celebration the coronation of their first born, aemon targaryen. all following details are under the cut, please like this once you’ve seen it.

well, we’re finally at our first event, here are just a few things we’d like to let you know.

this is a dash event beginning 1st of june at 12am gmt+10 and ending the 8th of june at 12am, meaning you have a full week to enjoy the celebrations

EST: 30th of may, 10am until the 7th of june, 10am.

PST: 30th of may, 7am until the 7th of june, 7am.

GMT: 30th of may, 3pm until the 7th of june, 3pm.

an aesthetic portion should be posted for your characters to boost your muse, which you can begin now, if you wish, but all ic interactions should be held until the time the event commences. 

there will be a plot drop included towards the end of the event, with the coronation having begun as we start our event, and the celebrations continued over the course, the entire event however will be no more than two days long ic, though a week irl. 

we’d like you to tag all aesthetic things relating to her muse as gloriedcoronationaes and all your starters with gloriedevent001.

remember to have fun and plot, we can’t wait to see your muses flourish at the celebration of the century.

[daemontarg]

Outside the throne room the air was finally cooling as the sun set over the towers of the Keep, and Daemon had found himself the perfect spot on the battlements, wedged securely into a corner with a book and a pitcher of wine. He had done his duty, conversed with the nobility, chatted as charmingly as he could with strangers, but now he was entirely worn out, and fully intended on drinking the rest of the night away in solitude, if he could manage it -- or at least, getting drunk enough that he could stand another three hours of a crowd.

He settled cheerfully back against the sandstone and opened his book, pouring himself a goblet of wine. He felt as though it was better, anyway, for him to disappear; his temper was growing short, and he often came across as cold and aloof rather than simply tired, as he usually was. He didn’t want to give rise to rumours that he was seeking more power than he had. Lost in his thoughts as he was, he turned a page too hastily, and slashed the tip of his finger. “Damn,” he muttered, to himself, popping it in his mouth to catch the blood. “Ow.”

[pxppybaratheon]

@kingsgvards

Poppy had intended to find her brother when the familiar golden breast plate had caught her eye, and while her lips had curled into a smirk in the hopes that she could tease Edwyn, she found herself instead looking at a rather unfamiliar face. Blinking away her surprise, she snatched a goblet from a passing tray and offered it up to the taller man. “Drink? Surely you can take a moment to relax Ser - after all, one drink wont hurt.”

[gloverbrandon-blog1]

It wasn’t that the Red Keep frightened Bran -- he would never admit such a thing; besides, he had fought wildlings and worse, a place held no fear for him. But he was certainly not comfortable here, that was for sure, and it showed in his posture and the cautious way he surveyed the crowd in front of him. He had never been one for parties -- at least, not parties like this; he liked very much to drink and brawl when the opportunity came, but that was in the North, where people were plain-speaking, plain-eating; not here, when he barely knew where he stood. He kept one hand resting on his hip, where his sword would have hung, though of course it was forbidden to carry weapons in the King’s presence -- the new King.

“Does it ever get any colder down here?”

[pxppybaratheon]

@lvciyas

Her feet were beginning to ache from the amount of dancing she’d participated in, the pain only slightly dulled by a dull buzz of wine through her bloodstream. Poppy found herself endlessly grateful when her partner departed to seek out drinks, the Baratheon girl retreating to seat herself at the nearest table. “I’d forgotten how wonderful such parties could be.” She murmured to the person seated beside her. “Everyone dances quite well, but their styles are all unique - its lovely.”

[maximusgreyjoy]

@lcreleis

Spotting the head of familiar red hair nearby, Maximus moved from his spot observing the Iron Born to approach. “Little Red.” He greeted, lips quirking into a smirk as eyes took in the dress she wore. “Tell me they haven’t conned you into being a southern lass with the frills and giggles.”