#banter thread

[spookcataloger]

A Phantom Fart (2017)

[kingkatsuki]

Specifically thinking about long distance relationships today.

So tell me how you and your f/o would first meet online?

[stelliferousduo]

;;ooc: Big thank you to everyone who has shared my sentiments in regards to RP being a hobby & not a responsibility.

Tbh it's still wild to me that we need to have this discussion period. Or maybe I'm just a boomer who comes from the old Tumblr RPC where people mostly did quick RPs and reacted to each other on the dashboard.

It was a little more chaotic, yes. But also incredibly fun and it allowed us to write in between school/work/etc. since most replies were only like a 1 to 2 paragraphs.

[astarab1aze]

"Yer such an ass'ole, Azar. Why cain't ya give me an 'eart transplant? Could use a new one. I swear, this shit's broken or somethin'. Gabs said m' 'air looked funny an' I ain't felt nothin'. Girly coulda ripped m' 'eart out fer free an' sure, I'd be dead, buh I wouldn've felt it. Is it a money thing? 'ow much I gotta pay? Azar, Azar, Az, Azzy, Azarrrrrr matey, bruh. AZAR--"

@malafxde

[gravesung]

❝ i can’t help but feel the strangest twinge of disgust as i look upon you. ❞ (loid at geto bc occasionally i like to start shit just to feel something)

baldur's gate 3 starters | ACCEPTING.

❝ HOW FASCINATING. WHEN I LOOK AT YOU, i feel nothing at all. ❞

[rememberences]

who: @jackarchibaldgrafton

to label the air that surrounded them as tense would be a serious understatement; the vale apartments within the city of kings landing were swarming with more knights of the vale, called upon from the reserve force they had left to camp some acres from the keep of hayford. graham royce had seen lord after lord, alongside the queen and the hand; there had been meetings of three, four, five, six or even ten people in a room as it became abundantly clear what it is they needed to do. graham royce was not one to avoid conflict, his sole condition being that the conflict was rooted in legitimacy and reason.

and so, when the sound of the chairs filled the room for what felt like the seventh time today, he briefly made eye contact with the master of ships, who had been delegated the responsibility of further amplifying the fortifications of their coast. for they had seen what tactics the lysene adopt in attack. that, and they would not risk the lysene taking advantage of their troublesome history with the mountain clans. "lord grafton." graham called, straightening from looking over the map on the sprawling table before him - he saw the man pause as he looked upon him. "i must ask you of something between us." graham indicated, wordlessly indicating to both of his brothers that he would speak with them privately.

there was something to discuss; specifically about the order and the direction that had been given explicitly by jaehaerys targaryen to ravella herself. one directly about axell. though graham knew and understood the nature of warfare, what it unleashed even in what seemed like the calmest of men, there was a gut feeling in his stomach that he sought to confirm. and what was perhaps worse, was the fact that this conversation came not with the threat of a consequence: but rather a fully understanding of the brother he felt as though he walked eternal separate paths with. "what has been the nature of our men in the making of our presence known upon the people of the sisters?" he asked.

[spookcataloger]

Caught on camera (2012)

[dancingshores]

setting : the coronation events of jaehaerys ii, a pair of lords and unlikely third party play a game of cards together ; @nicholaslannisters @percival-templeton

the coronation events of the new valyrian king had been intriguing, to say the least, for the dancer of salt shore did not often find herself beyond the borders of dorne, unless she needed to be. though she was not necessarily needed here, she enjoyed the opportunity to see places outside of her own homeland - a kite drifting wherever the wind should take her. curious, hazel hues scanned the great room before her within the red keep, it was not quite obvious in the open, but not hidden away, either. tables were set up, with nobles sat around them playing various games.

zahra hadn't a clue what the rules of any of these games were, she saw dice thrown, cheers and jeers, laughter as wine seemed to flow through all of their veins. she tended to indulge in her curisosity, especially in such a, what seemed to be, relaxed environment. bangles rang as if they were signaling her approach as she stood near the table where only two lords sat with cards in hand, perhaps preferring the more intimate game, though she would inquire anyways. "is there room for another at this table, my lords?" lips pulled upwards into a friendly grin as she looked between the two, awaiting their response only a brief moment before taking the empty chair, anyways.

[modwyr]

anyway the reason i was on eder's wiki is because i was reminded of the fact that his parents are still alive. and i think it would have been fun if they showed up in deadfire following eothas and eder had to confront all of That with them.

[withbeasts]

@petitsdieu liked x.

the world is spinning. he's made it at least to his apartment, the tile floor of the kitchen, resting a cheek against the cold of it. his eyes close for a few minutes.

" -- the fire escape is not quiet. " he doesn't open his eyes. the footsteps were easily recognizable, and not a threat.

even with his chest sore and his body heaving, he goes for another joke, " did you want to come make the final blow? "

[wyldewillow]

open starter / gardens at highgarden

since arriving at highgarden, willow had taken to wandering around the gardens. she never ventured too far into them but she liked following the cobbled paths close to the keep. hugo and sam were outside as well, sitting under a tree while reading their books, and she was keeping an eye on them. she preferred to know where her sons were at all times. it was control fuelled by a deep fear of losing them. in some strange way, willow believed if she knew where they were or had eyes on them, nothing terrible could happen to them. no one could hurt them. not without being assaulted by a maddened mother at least. suddenly her line of sight was blocked by a dark-haired man coming up to greet her. a knight. willow was pleasant enough in her greeting, she sent him a tight-lipped smile and made a remark about the weather, fully expecting he would move on. but then he offered her his arm to walk with her around the garden and suddenly every second he spent in her presence annoyed her.

willow blackwood was many things ― but patient was not one of them. the knight, whose name she had not bothered to ask because she did not care, was blocking her path and her way to her sons. she had lived the last thirteen years in mourning, she rarely wore anything but black, all for the purpose of avoiding situations like this. she wanted the world to see a heartbroken widow, a woman still living in the past and refusing to move on. she had strived to get rid of any suitor that had presented himself throughout the years. and in all those years willow had learned an important lesson. the faster you got rid of them, the less likely they were to stick around like bothersome flies on a warm summer day. "i am quite capable of walking on my own, ser, as you can see i have two perfectly good legs." her tone was as icy as the look on her face. "might i suggest you offer to parade another around the garden instead? ser garland perhaps?" he reacted with indignation, as they always did, and then they waited around to see shame in her eyes, but they were always left disappointed as willow simply stared them down. she felt no shame, no regret, she felt nothing but anger at him getting in her way. her anger was easy to provoke, it was always there bubbling away in her chest, eager to be unleashed. the knight left with a huff while muttering about rude ladies. she ignored him and instead her eyes immediately went to the tree her sons sat under. they were still sitting in the shade reading their books and she let out a sigh of relief.

[astarab1aze]

"Ma cherie, 'ow many times ya gon' keep comin' back 'ere 'fore I gotta chew ya up an' spi'cha out? This ain't no place for a pretty thang like ya, c'mon, darlin'... These wastes o' skin ain't worth th' time, let alone th' ocean o' filth ya gotta walk on t' sit down wit' 'em."

@vulpesse

[pastafossa]

i swear i’m working on the chapter, but matt decided to do the Hands On Hips Dad Pose (TM) at peter and now he’s giving Noble Superhero Advice (TM²) so i’m just gonna - i gotta let him do his thing or he’ll be even more grumpy later, it’d be a whole thing, jane’d have to spray him with a water bottle or he’d go idk assault a litterbug or something, so

[sunoflegend]

general tag dump since i lost the old one !

[lunarscaled]

lyric & saint: developed dynamic. complications of kids who were not wanted and are catalysts of different fates they cannot escape. red & blue character color trope. love and care as an amalgam form, not strictly romantic or familial or platonic, but simply existing.

lyric & sukuna: lyric will probably not shut up until they are dead

[casimirtully]

setting: riverrun, the riverlands. during the seven winter feasts. on the night of the first feast, some hours after the candle ceremony, the king and lady bracken find themselves in close quarters in the vibrant and lively great feast hall. @briannabrackens

Casimir couldn't let it go.

For a countless number of reasons, the River King had wished The Seven Winter Feasts to remind each of his subjects that The Trident's currents rushed through all of them. Just as one success was a success for all, so was one loss a loss for all. The Trident was not a great river without its forks -- they came together, and were stronger that way. He'd intended the feasts to represent that, as they always had. Casimir had wanted them to mean something again -- all his lords, all in one place.

So when Brianna Bracken had shown up in a gold ensemble that was not what had been within the chest delivered to the Bracken's quarters, he couldn't let it go. He'd kept quiet -- professional -- during the ceremony, and her bow. There had been laughter crinkling the corners of her eyes, he was sure. But now there had been whiskey, and two of his lords were no where in sight. Ben and Ronan were no where to be found. It was looking for them that brought him to Brianna -- and he couldn't help it.

"Lady Bracken," he said, nodding his head in greeting. A smile on his face. Nearby, a feaster -- Lord Terrick -- caught his gaze, stopping before the pair, though he did not remain long. Casimir smiled broadly at him, and clapped the man on the back. Asking after his children, his harvest -- before Lord Terrick bowed, and moved on.

Still smiling, Caismir looked to Brianna again, though his tone has... changed, different just so. "You’ve lived here all your life, haven’t you, Lady Bracken?” A rust colored brow moves upward in question.

This time, it is a much elder lady who cuts them off, and his tone is different again. In a similar manner to Lord Terrick, Casimir cupped the elder Lady Bigglestone's hands, and after kind words and laughter she, too, moves on.

In their own conversation again, he continued. His eyebrow quirked a second time. "Couldn’t miss the chest outside your quarters. It’s old, and very large.” He imagined her now, stepping over the heavy thing. Jumping over it, even, instead of asking servants to bring it into the Bracken quarters like a lady. “The chest with the Candle Maiden’s dress.” A long look, and though he smiles, his voice becomes more deadpanned. “The dress the Candle Maiden wears every year. To An Chéad Fheis."

“The feast your family hosts. Nearly every year. That you have attended, nearly every year.” He crosses his arms over his chest, and despite his cordial appearance, he found himself tense. His tone gave him away -- Casimir was annoyed. "Have you thrown it in the river?"