#plotted roleplay

[aestherjeanne]

— 🐍 welcome to 𝑻𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑻𝒀 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑺𝑶𝑵. go ahead and take a deep breath , get a whiff of charred roses, and the lingering iron scent of rebellion smoke. wipe the soot from your eyes and the blood from your knuckles.the war is *over,* but the smoke hasn't cleared. in the capitol, ambition is the only currency that matters, and in the districts, survival is the only game worth playing. the capitol is rebuilding, flashing its teeth at the districts while the elite play god in the halls of the academy. somewhere in the rubble, legacy is being forged — and you’ll either be the one holding the knife or the one bleeding out in the arena. our gates don't open for the unworthy, but now that you're here, know this: panem is a machine, and it will grind you down to fuel its ascent. the war may be over, but the dark days has only just begun. we've signed the papers, now we just have to pay the price ... one tribute at a time. the new world order doesn't care if you're ready to sing; it only cares if you can bleed on cue.

+18, a dark days & tbosas era rp exploring the brutality of the early games, capitol politics, and the fading songs of the covey and the dimming hope of the districts.

open for applications

[lastxdragon]

CS: Stranger in a strange land rp

PRIVATE ROLEPLAY: DO NOT REBLOG IF YOU ARE NOT MY PARTNER.

@crazedvikings​

╣❦╠ ƈօռզʊɛʀɨռɢ ֆȶօʀʍ ❧

Sieges take days to give a semblance of order to them, even with experienced warriors like the Unsullied. All the while, the city and those within, know what is happening. Supply lines slow, then stop. Guards on the parapets talk, spread rumors and panic. When the Dothraki joined the encampment, some people began slipping out of the city - a few here and there, some families, some soldiers, all afraid of the ‘savages’, of the ‘dragon queen’, but they are given food and shelter at the rear of the encampment. Daenerys arrived with her dragons in the second week to learn that close to 20,000 refugees had fled the capitol.

That evening, another 500 slipped out of the city and in the morning, Daenerys decided to fly Drogon high over the Keep, getting a sense of where the strongest defenses were staged. Her mind was on tactics and as Drogon began banking towards the harbor, out of the corner of her eye, Daenerys saw an odd flash of green that billowed and swelled. Her dragon swiveled, his massive wings buffeting against the wind as he fought to rise higher quickly, but the blast hit like a wall of stone, and as he rolled in the air, his dazed rider lost her grip, tumbling to the water. Luckily, her Ironborn pulled her out and she woke a day later in her tent.

Within a week’s time, a makeshift harbor had been set up and Daenerys was back on her feet, more or less. From her large command tent which also served as her personal quarters, Dany directed the efforts and it was there that Missandei told her of travelers who had arrived by ship. The leader wished to meet with her and, at Daenerys acceptance, her scribe went to the opening, directing him inside. “Your Grace, may I present Ivar Ragnarsson,” Missandei translated back to the man, standing ready to act as interpreter. “I present to you, Her Grace, Queen Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, good sir.”

[ironreaversoulstealer]

@serasarc​

This wasn’t how it was suppose to end. It wasn’t like he could do anything  either, trapped like a rat really. Disgusting even to his mortal mind. Sheer stubbornness was why he’d even been lasting so long in this game of cat and mouse. This was no game for him, it was simply torture. It felt like the very fraction he was of his family, what he had of his father was being ripped away. It was agonizing, drawing short noises of pain from him every second he spent in this thick fog that swarmed the forest. Really every second was more blood being split, really he wasn’t surprised that more demons began to occupy the area, searching for his ‘mortal’ blood. It’s only then that the dirt becomes futile, the air suddenly surrounds his body and the next thing he knows is his body aches, face down in the dirt and on his side. 

He’d been caught, thrown into the air and he’d landed on his side. Blood staining the Robe of the Fire-Rat, which wasn’t new but it felt terrible deep down to have the precious accessory. Really he should have been paying more attention, not focusing so much on trying to get out. He should have just waited it out, hid in the trees or something. His muscles strained, pushing his front half of his body up to glance. To see the writhing monstrosity of the demons body, ugh tentacles really? Was that just becoming mainstream now? Disgusting.  It’s the fact something cold runs through his entire body and he can’t move. Something rips away from him and it’s like his body has gone numb. He can feel the limbs coil around his torso, lifting his limp frame into the air. A glance down reveals the gaping jaw with saliva dripping from horrendously sharp teeth, the fog was coming from this thing. It...paralyzed him. He’d fought against geese with more empathy and skill than this thing, using dirty tactics to get what it wanted. He could hear the whispers, the other demons gathered around to see if they could scavenge anything of his soon to be dead body.

Instead the limb suddenly coils around his body so fiercely feeling and movement comes rushing back and a guttural scream emits form his throat. It feels like a rib popped or snapped, his body writhing in agony as he can’t move to try and appeal his injury, it’s targeting his earlier wound. Small fractions of it’s limbs gripping into his flesh and digging deeper into it. It feels like it’s going to tear him apart from the inside out! A choked noise escapes him as blood drips from his wounds, his injuries and mouth. It was doing everything it could to get every last noise out of him until he finally perished. He couldn’t even stop his body from reacting, from each agonizing noise drawn from his throat until finally it’s a mangled choke, nothing left as he’s finally dropped. To the jaws of death waiting below him.

[belongingsought]

CS: Living dead in space RP

PRIVATE ROLEPLAY: DO NOT REBLOG IF YOU ARE NOT MY PARTNER.

@wearenotthesameasyesterday​

╣❦╠ ahead not behind ❧

The last of the Praetorian guards fell and Rey wiped the sweat from her eyes. Smoke from the fires was putting a haze into the air, but she and Kylo - Ben? - were both alive and that was a relief. He had killed Snoke, his Master, to save her life. Another minute or two and Snoke would have killed her. The pain had been unbearable and then gone. She’d only had a heartbeat to understand, but Rey was a survivor of Jakku and she jumped to Ben’s side to fight the guards. Now, he was watching her, as she was watching him, both breathless and tired. He started to say something, his dark gaze softened, his gloved hand reaching out to her and in that moment, Rey saw moment in the corner of her eye.

“What the kriff…” she murmured, glancing away from Ben now. All around the throne room, almost all of the guards were… they were in various stages of rising. Not all of them - the one that Ben had speared through the head with her lightsaber did not stir, but… kriff! Snoke! The top half of his body was moving, his arm dragging toward them. Their heads flopped with the staggering movement of their bodies and horror filled her. “Ben…” Rey stepped closer to him, breathing hard. There was no way they could do another battle like that so soon after just finishing. A low, raspy moan came from one of the guards and the rest joined it, making the hair on her arms stand on end. “They’re… they’re dead, how…”

“A ship. Can we get to a ship?” Rey asked, igniting her lightsaber while her free hand took his. The first fight with the guards had been a desperate battle for survival, but now she was frightened. One of the guards lumbering towards them had a smoldering crater where his chest had been. Snoke… that monster was dragging the upper half of its body towards them, mouth gaping to show jagged teeth before clamping down again, snapping its maw at them, its eyes a milky white now. She took a step back, giving his hand a tug.

[lastxdragon]

CS: We’re all mad here RP

PRIVATE ROLEPLAY: DO NOT REBLOG IF YOU ARE NOT MY PARTNER.

@dragcnlxrd​

╣❦╠ ƈօռզʊɛʀɨռɢ ֆȶօʀʍ ❧

“You’ll do your solo at 11, then the stage band is on for 30 minutes. It’s that indie group whose tape you listened to a month ago. They’re becoming really big over in England. Then the Grey Wolves, and then you’re back on with the Dragons,” Missandei tells her as she finishes braiding one strip of dark red ribbon into Dany’s long silver white hair. Her right hand woman ran Targaryen Enterprises for her, with only a few issues laid on Dany’s lap. Daenerys had followed in her late big brother’s footsteps, taking his place as bassist in the popular Red Dragons after the loss of her family.

She was already in costume, a fringed tie-dyed half-shirt and bell bottom jeans with embroidered flowers rising up from the cuffs to her knees. A thick leather belt, boots, and a tie-dyed trailing headband rounded it out. She added a thick cuff of bracelets on either arm and lined her fingers with various rings, before slipping on big-rimmed sunglasses. Dany checked her image in the mirror, turning and then giving her hair a ruffle to messy it up. Her only prop was a bottle of Southern Comfort and Dany took a deep swig from it before standing.

The limo ride over to the Bowery Ballroom from Targaryen Tower was a relatively short one for 10 pm on a Friday night in the city. She could hear the party was already in full swing as she was escorted in through the backstage door to the stage back area. The stage band was almost done setting up and the announcer went out to do his shtick about the charity party, then he was announcing Dany. With her wireless mic, she strode out onto stage as the opening notes of ‘Piece of My Heart’ began, belting out the throaty song at the edge of the stage where she sang to the party goers.

One caught her eye. Sharp jawline, high cheekbones and soulful eyes. Daenerys strode from one side of the stage to the other singing before moving back to the edge, where she finished the song, singing to him and ending with a wink. Loud clapping rose up as she strode backstage as the English took the stage and, as they passed her in the corridor, Daenerys gasped. The man from the crowd was their lead singer! After two songs, she texted their manager to add the group to their tour starting in a week’s time. It was short notice, but Dany was confident they would accept. When their set ended, Daenerys waited for the man, licking her lips as he approached. “Not bad,” she teased, leaning against the wall. “I hope you can go the distance.”

[lastxdragon]

CS: Arranged marriage RP

PRIVATE ROLEPLAY: DO NOT REBLOG IF YOU ARE NOT MY PARTNER.

@ourfuryroars​

╣❦╠ ƈօռզʊɛʀɨռɢ ֆȶօʀʍ ❧

The last year under Master Illyrio’s roof had been better than any shelter they had found before, with the exception of Ser Darry’s little manse - at least to Daenerys. Viserys soaked up the false adulation that greeted him at every turn, increasing his bloated ego and paranoia at the same time. He left her alone most of the time, unless he had grown angered - then he spat angry words at her before using his fists. Over time, Illyrio seemed to grow more adept at curbing Viserys’ perceived insults and Daenerys stayed out of her brother’s path.

Illyrio’s large compound had a library and Dany was often there, reading when the fat Magister found her one evening as dusk fell. She didn’t like being alone with him, but this night, he did not speak down to her. An arrangement had been made when she had been just a babe, one that would afford her brother, as heir of House Targaryen, two powerful armies - one here in Essos and one in Westeros. Daenerys silently noted the distinction of ‘heir’ and wondering why, but what he said next shocked her. Through this agreement, she was betrothed to Ser Jaime Lannister, and had been for many years.

Even Viserys had only just been told when the host from the Golden Company arrived in advance of the wedding. Her husband-to-be was waiting to meet her in the courtyard, but first she must be made ready. Illyrio snapped his fingers and four of his slaves entered, tittering as they gathered her up, whisking Dany to the bath where they washed her hair until it glistened in a shimmer of silver. One brought a silken gown of the barest violet and she submitted to being dressed, her thoughts a roil of fear and confusion.

Daenerys knew of the Golden Company, the fiercest army in Essos, unbeaten and honorable to their contracts. It was said that the Leader had to beat the previous one to become Commander and that the more armbands of gold, the richer the man. The door opened and Viserys stepped in, glowering as the slaves hurried away. She froze as he reached out, sliding his fingers down the slope of her shoulder and the swell of her breast. “I need you to be perfect today. You don’t want to wake the dragon, do you?” Viserys murmured darkly. Daenerys cringed, shaking her head with a whispered ‘no’. He smirked and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her along as he crossed the manse to the courtyard.

The sun was low on the horizon, casting a golden glow on the sand, but it was the man talking with his fellows that had Daenerys’ attention. He had to be the leader. Strong and handsome with a confident stance of almost a swagger. Golden hair and masculine profile. Viserys cleared his throat, tightening his grip on her arm, turning her skin white where his fingers pressed. “Commander. I present my sister, Princes Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen,” he announced firmly, emphasising ‘my’ as he pushed Dany forward.

[lastxdragon]

CS: Raising Lightbringer RP

PRIVATE ROLEPLAY: DO NOT REBLOG IF YOU ARE NOT MY PARTNER.

@ourfuryroars​

╣❦╠ ƈօռզʊɛʀɨռɢ ֆȶօʀʍ ❧

Taking King’s Landing had been far easier than anyone had anticipated. The Usurper’s widow had spent years decimating the Great Houses through deceit and conflict, causing untold hardship and devastation to the small folk of each Ward who were now left without nobles to protect them. With her armies surrounding the capital and her fleet blocking the bay, it was only a matter of night falling before the gates were opened to her men. But it was finding Ser Jaime Lannister in the throne room that was the biggest shock, with his sister's body next to a glowing pot of wildfire. He was a broken man, keeping to his rooms on the far side of the Keep or only in his brother’s company. 

Even now, nearly three months after her coronation, there were workers crawling carefully beneath the city to bring out pots to be destroyed, but that work was done in secret. What few Lords were left had little choice but to fall in line with Daenerys new laws, based off those of Dorne, since many did not have males to give titles. Now many a noble Lady headed a Great House and House, but the one thing her Great Council and Houses would not stop harping on was the fact that Daenerys showed no interest in marrying. Everything seemed to be going according to her plans and that’s when the snow began falling, her Visions shifted to a handsome, silver-haired man she knew to be her brother, Rhaegar.

On the 6th day of snow, a raven scroll was brought to Daenerys. An ancient threat had awoken. When she went to the throne room the next morning, a red priestess awaited - the one from Meereen, Kinvara - the sorceress bringing a message of sacrifice and sacrilege. She must desecrate her eldest brother’s ashen remains to resurrect him for the coming darkness could only be beaten by the two of them together. Rhaegar’s interpretations of the prophecy had been inaccurate due to mistranslated Valyrian (what Westerosi Maesters read ‘heir of the King, they thought only of males).

But Kinvara pressed on. She claimed that both Rhaegar and Daenerys were prophesied. Azor Ahai and Lightbringer. Daenerys was Azor while Rhaegar was Lightbringer embodied. After much convincing, Rhaegar’s ashes and fragments of bones were brought from the crypt to the Dragonpit during the dead of night. The Lord of Light, the Red God, lived in flame and Drogon’s dragonfire lit the pyre upon which Rhaegar’s remains rested, along with one each scale of her dragons. When the fire stretched to the heavens, Daenerys stepped into it, a Valyrian steel knife in one hand. Her gown evaporated as the flames danced around her. The red priestess’ song rose high above the crackling and that was Daenerys’ cue to cut a small lock of hair and draw the knife across her palm, casting both hair and blood onto the bones. 

A whirlwind of fire rose within them, clattering them for a moment before they began to knit together, dust and ash consolidated and a form began to take shape. Dany held the vision of Rhaegar in her thoughts and the silver-white hair among the bones began to lengthen. Smoke rose, obscuring her vision for a moment, and when it cleared, Rhaegar lay before her - her brother every bit as otherworldly handsome as in her visions. “Wake Rhaegar Targaryen,” Daenerys spoke the words the red priestess had instructed even as the flames began to die. “The last dragon commands thee, awaken.”

[lastxdragon]

CS: Fighter in the pit

PRIVATE ROLEPLAY: DO NOT REBLOG IF YOU ARE NOT MY PARTNER.

@ourfuryroars​

╣❦╠ ƈօռզʊɛʀɨռɢ ֆȶօʀʍ ❧

“Try the locus, my sweet,” her betrothed encouraged Daenerys once again, but she merely shook her head, trying to quell her stomach as yet another contestant was brutally slaughtered in front of her. Dany hated having to reopen the fighting pits, even with the limitations she had brokered to govern the matches, but it had been the only way to ensure the peace - along with marrying Hizdahr in the coming days. As much as she loathed him, it was for the protection of her people and Daenerys knew she had no other choice. The brand of justice she had let Ser Barristan press upon her had tied her hands in dealing with the Sons of the Harpy.

The crowd cheered as two new contestants entered the pit, but only one drew Daenerys attention - the younger man with long curls the color of a raven, finely-wrought muscles and soulful dark eyes. Watching him observe his opponent was like watching Drogon hunt and Dany didn’t hear what Hizdahr said next as she brought her hands together in a clap to start the fight. Twice, her heart leapt into her throat as the raven man was almost hit, but he moved like the wind and all too soon, stood over the corpse of his opponent. She could not explain it, but suddenly Daenerys was standing and calling for his freedom. His master rushed out, claiming his slave’s worth and before she could stop herself, Daenerys ordered the man paid.

Ser Barristan gestured for the winner to come up to the Queen’s box, but just then, howls erupted across the arena and the gold mask of the Sons of Harpy seemed to appear everywhere at the same time. Both her Knights guided Dany and Missandei down and away from the Box, away from the Harpy’s stabbing Hizdahr and the others who had moved too slowly. The dwarves she’d freed earlier were hurrying out to the middle of the pit after them and there was the fighter as well, fighting off Harpy’s that were chasing them. The rest was a blur. Drogon appeared from the sky, spears flew and metal clashed, dragonfire turned some to ash, but more raced forward.

Ser Jorah spotted a way clear, but Dany turned to her dragon, feeling his pain. Daenerys tried to pull a spear from Drogon’s shoulder, but there was the fighter to help, tugging out several spears from the dragon without fear. She knew, however, that Drogon would not stop, not until all the people in the arena were dead, and the only way to stop him was to get him away. Dany reached out and gave the man’s hand a squeeze. “I must get him away. Please help Missandei,” she pleaded, then she was scrambling up Drogon’s wing to hold on tightly as her dragon took a few running steps and leapt into the sky. As the ground grew more distant, Dany could only pray her people would be all right.

The next time she saw a familiar face, it was in Vaes Dothrak as she was on the path to the Khal’s meeting tent. A hand had covered her mouth and then, in the flickering light, she saw Ser Jorah and the fighter. Dany stopped them from killing the girl with her, sending her away with the promise of silence and then she quickly demanded that they wait in safety for her. Her plan was too mad to explain. It was only later, as the flames behind her danced and the Dothraki horde knelt enmass that Daenerys knew her gambit had worked. Drogon landed behind the horde with a deafening roar, but it was the fighter who brought Daenerys a silken robe. She took his hand and let him guide her down to where Ser Jorah rose from the sand. “You both risked much coming here, but I am glad to see you,” Daenerys offered with a smile.