#godbvrns

[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 .

[intheweirwood]

closed starter for @godbvrns - trystane blackwood

Alarra made it a point never to bet against family, and she was glad of that fact as the number of knights and lords remaining in the tourney dwindled with her brother still standing. She tossed a newly-won coin his way as she approached him between matches, amusement curving her mouth as she entered the tent. “Your share of the wealth you’ve won me today.” It would have been her duty to perform pride in him regardless of how well he did, but thankfully, he’d done well enough that no performance was required. “I suppose you did learn something in King’s Landing.” 

Part of her wanted to promise him half of all she won if he managed to knock Varian Dayne flat on his back during the next melee, but Alarra knew better than to poke at that particular wound. What had once been a friendship more akin to brotherhood had faded over the last few years and she knew it was not solely because of her own complicated relationship with the lord commander. No, whatever came between Trystane and his old friend was something different, an ache that she could not fully understand and would not address here. 

Instead, Alarra chose an easier target. “There’s more in it for you if you make the Bracken boy…” Her voice trailed off mid-sentence and her expression went blank, vacant. For a moment she could feel the wind moving through soft fur, could smell all the awful scents of the tourney as if they’d been amplified tenfold, could hear like nails on a chalkboard the scraping of sword against sword – and then she was inside of herself again, as if she’d never left. 

This was why she normally kept Scout with her. When they were together, at least, she was still present and could maneuver back into conversation without losing track completely. Now she did not know how long she was away, nor whether her brother had spoken. “Well,” she tried to carry on as if the pause was intentional, “be creative. As long as he wishes he never left home.”