#myr speaks!

[myrquez]

someone on here pointed out smth that really makes me laugh, which is that all these months ago bezz called marc’s riding style dirty, and now he’s admitted on multiple occasions to observing marc’s style and learning from him. he called him MAESTRO. and the fact that vale openly discourages and hates marc’s riding style makes it even funnier i know he’s going to pop a vein when he realises

“alora marco vie qua n’attimo. we need to talk”

no but fr i fear valentino is probably on antibiotics rn, literally 2 seconds away from a huge meltdown bc first it’s pecco being Such a Normal Person (hug, handshakes, civil interactions) to marc, then it’s luca generally being so nice and saying marc is the one that should step on the 2nd ducati seat. and then fuckin BEZZ, his strongest soldier when it comes to the Rosquez Great War, goes out on live tv and decides to hit us all with the Oh Marc is Doing Great we all Look up to Him he’s a Maestro I followed Him to Learn how to Ride into that Corner yadda yadda yadda

marco you better sleep with one eye open at the ranch bc he’s gonna be PISSED. he’s gonna cut off your curls and revoke your special left earring

[socketsuspension]

need to fuck my best friend again so bad. need his fingers in me and my mouth on him and all the rest of it urghhhh

[heehoothefool]

I don't have much in the writblr on my page atm but I'm always looking to change that, this account and my other account @theworldoftomalyr do frequently mention my novel series wip Gilded Fate and have some stuff on both <3

Looking for writeblrs!

My dash has been a bit dry as of late, so please interact with this post if you're an active writeblr and I'll check your blog out! Some of the things I'm looking for:

fantasy or historical fiction

tragedies/bittersweet endings

blogs dedicated to one or a few wips rather than many

participation in writeblr ask/tag games (i do my best to ask back!)

unique settings that I haven't seen before

If you're interested in what I write, come check out my intro post here 😊

[littjara-mirrorlake]

From my in-progress homebrew D&D 5e supplement, Plane Shift: Mirrodin/New Phyrexia: playable Myr!

They've been beloved in playtesting, with no fewer than three myr PCs appearing in the party over the course of a 3-year campaign. They are one of two new playable races in Plane Shift: New Phyrexia, along with the core-born Phyrexian.

Constructed Resilience and Sentry's Rest are abilities that previously appeared on the Warforged in Eberron: Rising from the Last War, and Regenerative Repair is a less restricting version of the ability Healing Machine from Astral Adventurer's Guide.

Text from the image under the cut!

Metallic, beak-headed myr inhabit Mirrodin, scampering at the feet of larger humanoids and largely considered below their attention. Few know of their true origin as creations of the mad wizard Memnarch, designed to be mechanized servants and his eyes across the plane. Following Memnarch’s fall, the myr found themselves with sapience and free will, though their core values of duty, community, and knowledge remain.

Myr Traits

Type. You are a Construct. You are also considered a myr for any prerequisite or effect that requires you to be a myr.

Ability Score Increase. Your Intelligence score increases by 2, and your Dexterity score increases by 1.

Age. As constructed creatures, myr don’t grow old in the traditional sense, and they are able to live indefinitely if well-maintained. You are immune to magical aging effects.

Size. Myr average about 3 feet tall. Your size is Small.

Speed. Your base walking speed is 25 feet.

Constructed Resilience. You have resistance to poison damage and immunity to disease, and you have advantage on saving throws against being poisoned. You don’t need to eat, drink, or breathe. You also don’t need to sleep, and magic can’t put you to sleep.

Darkvision. Your constructed senses grant you superior vision in dark and dim conditions. You can see in dim light within 60 feet of you as if it were bright light, and in darkness as if it were dim light. You can’t discern color in darkness, only shades of gray.

Bonus Proficiencies. You gain proficiency in one skill and one tool of your choice. The tool you chose is integrated into your body and cannot be removed while you live.

Networked Minds. You can communicate telepathically with other myr within 120 feet of you.

Sentry’s Rest. When you take a long rest, you must spend at least six hours in an inactive, motionless state, rather than sleeping. In this state, you appear inert, but it doesn’t render you unconscious, and you can see and hear as normal.

Regenerative Repair. If the mending spell is cast on you, you can expend a hit die, roll it, and regain a number of hit points equal to the roll plus your Constitution modifier (minimum of 1 hit point). Spells such as cure wounds and spare the dying which restore hit points or preserve life, and normally don’t affect constructs, function as if you were a humanoid.

Languages. You can speak, read, and write Common and one other language of your choice.

[mattastr0phic]

The Combo is what you get when Clef wears Myriad's amulet for extended amounts of time! (not to be confused with short term contact, which only shares their minds with each other.)

During long term contact, Myriad can envelop Clef's upper body, warping its liquid flesh into any limb from a form recorded in SCP-963 or any simple shape, often used as a sharp weapon. Meanwhile, Myriad's consciousness sits alongside whoever is in charge, only able to control its own slime in contact with the body and see through their eyes.

Bit more lorewise down under!

The two ran tests on their combination in private, to keep themselves from being taken advantage of again. It was difficult, needing to keep Myr's id band intact while navigating each others' minds and bodies, but eventually they're fluid enough together that it's a reliable last resort.

While connected, Myriad practically becomes another individual next to the Chord, though temporary. During one of their tests together, they're reunited with Ukulele, who they haven't been able to speak with since their retirement as field agents. With all that was unsaid between them suddenly clear in their shared minds, it's everything to them.

Love as close as it can get.

[myriamas]

❂

there was no describing the level of familiarity she felt in the presence of sunspear's most known dancer; it was all too clear that there was not an inch of the princess regent that required any sense of defence or suspicion whilst sat alongside zahra sand amidst the seemingly endless flows of the reach's gardens.

the way in which myriam sat beside her on a small bench nestled within the gardens of highgarden made it momentarily appear as though there was no major difference between the women, especially when she brought her ankle to the bench to momentarily fix her anklet from digging into her skin.

"aacha? but who else will dance for the bloodroyal when you are gone?" she mused, her tone intentionally casual, though if one looked at her expression it were cleared painted with hues of mischief. her head tilted ever so slightly, leaning upwards to allow the light dupatta which remained over the head of her thick cascade of silky hair to drop. it were not as though she did not notice the sight of the lady of salt shore, twirling in her golden skirts seemed catch the man like a hook, and reeling him in the middle of the ballroom.

"i fear the sword of the morning will be insulted should we ask him."

it were almost as though there was no social difference between the two women, in any matter: whether it be social standing, title or even caste; and if one looked twice, one would have realised how similar the pair seemed to appear. not only in their relaxed posture or the way their body language was open to one another, but rather the way they actually spoke to one another. the dialect they used was informal and casual, not in the way that it appeared inappropriate, but in it being the language used by those whose hands truly held up the realm.

at her comment regarding lord yronwood, myriam lept to her feet with a sudden burst of energy as bright as the sun, appearing as though the day had already gotten away from her. as zahra promised, myriam extended her own pinky out, as though they were doing the most solemn of oaths. the pair laced them together, before myriam straightened to her full height, fixing the bottom of her skirts. "i would find you, zahra ji." the term ji was used in reference to people with respect, or could be utilised playfully; in this case, myriam truly meant both. she opened her mouth to say something else, when she heard the sounds of approaching martell guards - footstep after footstep after footstep.

myriam only gave a knowing glance over to zahra, almost as though to wonder what else could happen now, before she brought her hands together in a show of goodbye. "make sure you see me before you leave, teek hai?" myriam of godsgrace turned on her feet and made her way towards the guards, greeting them closer, turning back over her shoulder to call back to zahra sand.

end of thread.

the gardens embraced them with the scent of flowers and the soothing murmur of water, creating a sanctuary within the bustling court. zahra’s guarded exterior seemed to loosen in myriam’s presence, revealing a woman who, despite the complexities of her role, cherished the connections that transcended the political intricacies of the position of the princess consort. the offer was more than a business transaction, of that she was certain, or perhaps hopeful of. she did not think the offer would be given to just anyone, there was a level of trust that was extended to her, and she knew it would be unwise to allow that to pass.

“today it is, then.” zahra responded, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. her voice carried the weight of experiences untold, yet in myriam’s company, there was a subtle vulnerability that lingered beneath the surface. she appreciated myriam’s efforts to tether her, to not let the winds she allowed to carry her do so as easily as she often found them to.

the mention of the powers that surrounded them brought the dancer’s mind back to the intricacies of politics that surrounded myriam’s position. she appreciated the woman’s relaxed nature in her presence, feeling the same semblance of peace around her as well. though perhaps there was an inkling feeling of guilt that pricked at her like a thorn upon one of the many roses that surrounded them. she knew so much more than she spoke of, and yet, she wondered if the other would find joy in the discovery of a familial connection, or distress in finding there was more in her life unknown to her. would she even believe her?

and so she put such thoughts to the back of her mind. perhaps there would be a time to speak of it. zahra was simply happy for the natural connection that seemed to be forming between the two.

a melodic laugh left her at myriam’s quip, giving a playful shrug of her shoulders. “what’s a dance if not having an element of surprise?” she asked, tone lighthearted, suddenly feeling the sticky heat upon her neck as well as she moved dark tresses over one shoulder to allow the little breeze that blew to cool her off. “oh yes, everything is well. there are just some things i’d like to sort out, and i think i may depart before the rest of the court.” though she would not be far from her own haveli, she wanted to ensure things were going well there before she would be away from it even longer than now. often zahra checked in to ensure things were going over smoothly. the lifeline she had created for herself and built upon her own two feet was of great importance to her.

“i promise, i will not stray far.” she added with a grin.

[soylent-crocodile]

Myr (Monsters)

(Silver Myr by Kev Walker)

(I FUCKING LOVE MYR! They're cute, they're iconic, they're interesting bits of worldbuilding... I HAD to make 'em! Mercifully, I've separated Mirrodin from New Phyrexia, and created the Plane of Steel, a fun little plot hook roughly referencing Mirrodin's creation. If you want to make these native to the Plane of Metal- new to PF2- or simply old machines of a dead culture, feel free.

Also, this will contain rules for Mana Myr, which I spiraled off the five colors of Magic, but expect more myr in the future!)

Myr are mysterious creatures native to the Plane of Steel, an artificial plane ripped from the Plane of Earth and turned into a vast network of self-sustaining machines. Myr themselves are the most common denizens of the plane, servitors to an unknown master and performing upkeep on their more complicated cohabitants.

Myr have been imported from the Plane of Steel in rare quantities, and serve as a rare treasure on the Material Plane, loyal servants infused with magical energy. Some, however, fear inviting such mysterious creatures into their homes, especially paranoid wizards and watchful politicians, as it's a known fact that myr are vulnerable to scrying- and it's a distinct possibility that their master is still watching.

Myr are unique among constructs in being easily repairable once slain. Upon reaching 0 health, a construct with the Myr subtype is not destroyed; rather, it turns inactive, and will reactivate upon being returned to positive hit points. However, a myr that reaches -20hp is destroyed as usual. Additionally, the knowledge of how to create myr has been lost or well-hidden, and they lack rules for construction. Fortunately for myr, they are capable of reproducing themselves, although attempts to study how they do so have not succeeded in creating animate constructs.

There are thousands of different kinds of myr, most being only slight modifications on a basic design; what is presented are some common archetypes and a few notable variations.

Mana Myr

(Myr Moonvessel by Danny Orizio)

Among the most common servitor myr, mana myr work on the machinery that makes up the bulk of the Plane of Metal, and these servitors are attuned to one of the eight schools of magic. Of the myr of the plane, it is the mana myr who are most desired, and those who find themselves in possession of multiple, or let them reproduce, sell them for exorbitant prices.

Each school of magic produces a myr of a different color. Even though they are all made of the same substance, the magic forged into their bodies makes them appear as one of a variety of colors; the mana myr of each school of magic is named after a metal or mineral it resembles.

This small humanoid construct has a strange head shaped like a heavy beak. It resonates with magical energy.

Misc- CR1 LN Small Construct (Myr) HD2 Init:+2 Senses: Perception:+3 Stats- Str:8(-1) Dex:15(+2) Con:- Int:4(-3) Wis:14(+2) Cha:14(+2) BAB:+2 Space:2.5ft Reach:0ft Defense- HP:21(2d10+10) AC:13(+1 Size, +2 Dexterity) Fort:- Ref:+4 Will:+2 CMD:13 Special Defenses: Construct traits Offense- Slam +2(1d3-1) CMB:+0 Speed:25ft Special Attacks:  Feats- Lightning Reflexes Skills- Perception +3, Spellcraft +0 Spell-like Abilities-  Share Memory /at-will Make Whole 1/day Special Qualities- Mana Servant, Scrying Focus Ecology- Environment- Any Languages- Common (Can’t speak) Organization- Solitary Treasure- None Special Abilities- Mana Servant- A mana myr is designed as a vessel for magic. When created, it is infused with magic from one of the eight schools of magic. When used as a focus to cast a spell of that school, the spell is cast at a +1 caster level and with a +1 DC. A mana myr registers as strong magic of its school when viewed through Detect Magic or similar spells. Scrying Focus- Myr are perfect vessels for scrying on. They get a -5 penalty to saves against spells with the Scrying descriptor, and magical sensors made to scry on a myr and its surroundings get a +5 bonus against rolls to perceive it. Additionally, myr- and any object or creature they are in contact with- are not protected by spells such as Nondetection and Screen.

[syrma-sensei]

→ A Lioness's Home.

gif credit

pairing: daemon targaryen x lannister!reader.

rating: domestic fluff.

word count: 1.3k.

a/n: this is a sequel to my "a true victory" and "a dragon's glory". however, you need not to read the prequels, but it's preferable, though. the events of this fic take place during the ten-years time jump, but the plot doesn't necessarily follow the canon agendas.

masterlist | AO3

WITH WEALTH, DRAGONS, AND VALYRIAN BLOOD, you and your family found a fine living in Lys. And perhaps more than just fine living. Daemon and you are called the prince and princess of Lys; an honorary title given by the Lyseni people after the triumphant war led by your husband against Myr and Tyrosh over the Disputed Lands.

While Daemon was claiming yet another glory winning a war, you were claiming your own by preserving the free city's economy in maintaining the integrity of the trading path between Lys and Lannisport.

Lord Jason Lannister was more than thrilled and willing to help his sweet sister, and Ser Tyland couldn't be happier that their sister did not forget about her two lion brothers who love her immensely. Furthermore, Lord Tyland saw that in helping you, thus your husband, to ascend to power in foreign lands, it would push the dangers of the newly-reformed Triarchy away. The pirates of the Triarchy, as it seemed, did not wish to yield yet even after their gruesome loss in Stepstones at the hands of your husband and House Velaryon several years ago. Securing power in Lys would prevent the pirates to rise again, as your small family already owns three dragons, and the Lyseni people's favour.

When you were in your sixth month of pregnancy, with a very large bump in your belly, Daemon took you to the dragonpit to choose a dragon egg for your child together. You chose that special moment to tell Daemon, sheepishly, that he needed to pick two eggs and not only one. Your husband arched an eyebrow, letting the new information sink, then a wide and satisfied grin adorned his handsome face.

You suspected it during your fifth month, and the maester confirmed your qualms when he visited you for your monthly check-ups. You asked him not to speak to your husband of the matter, for you wanted to share the happy news with him in private and on distinctive occasion.

Taelon was the first to be born, his birth was easy, coming out without much fuss. Daenesya, however, was the one hard to deliver; your battle in labour continued for several hours before you finally heard her screams for air. Daemon never left your side during the whole process, encouraging you while you cried and screamed through insufferable pain. He dried your sweat and whipped your tears away from your face, reminding you that you're his fierce lioness and you could do it, while the Septas around you told you to hold your breath and push.

“Well done, my brave girl,” Daemon said proudly while holding both babies in his strong arms. “Well done.”

Daemon was true to his words and when your children's first name day came, the four of you took residence in Lys, where you were welcomed and treated with great hospitality.

Taelon and Daenesya are the epitome of exact opposites. Upon the first look, one would immediately say that your twin children are the mirror of one another; silver-gold long hair, and their eyes are amethyst flecked with emerald. However, one is quiet, calm, and leisure, and the other is unruly, chaotic, and headstrong. But both are of dragons and lions in spirit.

Your son's egg hatched after two years of his birth and gave him his precious Darkfyre. A beautiful dragon, with navy blue scales tinted by light cyan frames. His burning flames are of blue colour. Daenesya, on the other hand, her egg hatched after a year of her birth, and she was gifted her best friend Aeksyas. She's larger and wilder than Darkfyre. She has silver scales and golden eyes, and her flames are dark red. Daemon explained to you that dragons take after their riders, and you see it with your own eyes.

“Dracarys!”

Red and blue fire weave together, and from the purple flames Daemon emerges from while mounting Caraxes. A cheered applause acclaims from around you as your husband and children give them a dragon show. Among the spectators, you're the loudest and rowdiest; a proud wife and mother, watching her family proudly showing off the discrete dragonblood they have.

It's true that the people of Lys have the reminiscent of Valyrian blood, but the Targaryens are the only ones who are capable of taming dragons to their will in the Known World.

Nevertheless, your eyes are a tad more focused on your husband more the children. Daemon never ceases to mesmerize you with his riding skills, and the correspondence he has with Caraxes. The two share something really special, and you're never tired of watching over and over again. There were some times when you, eagerly, mounted Caraxes with Daemon for a ride. It was such a thrilling experience you don't mind to try it again. But in such occasions, you let the Targaryens do their thing while you stand their with charmed audience.

After a while of strutting their talent in the sky, the trio, led by Daemon, take their land on the ground. Everyone clapps for them, including you, before the three usher their mounts to the caves they've turned it into their own Dragonpit.

“Daemon, darling,” You say when the latter emerges from the cave pit, “You were marvelous up there,”

Daemon encircles an arm around your waist, pecking you lips. He smells of dragon and fire.

“Did you see Darkfyre's flames, mother!” Taelon gushes from behind, his face is slightly smudged by dirt and soot.

“Oh, I did, and they were magical, my cub!” You crouch a bit to whip his face with your handkerchief.

“Mother, did you see how pretty Aeksyas's wings are?!” Daenesya shrieks as she takes her father's side, clinging to his arm.

You chuckle amusedly, “She's the most beautiful dragon I've ever seen, my sweet.”

The four of you head to the carriage that's waiting for you to go home.

•••

After the three of them washed the dragon stench off of them, the four of you had supper. Then came Valyrian class for Taelon and Daenesya. The twins reluctantly escorted the maester to the library. And the two of you are left alone.

“Caraxes would be always my favourite dragon.” You whisper your secret to your husband as you reach the roof of your palace. It's where you and your husband spend some quality time together away from everyone's eyes. You sit on the padded floor, with your husband's head in your lap.

Daemon guffaws, “That would break Dani's heart; she thinks Aeksyas is your favourite, and she brags about it before Taelon.”

“Oh, really?” You arch a brow, “Wonder where did she get that idea from?”

Your husband smiles privately and leaves you with no answer, but you know him better. Daenesya is his favourite, and you can see why, she's practically the little version of himself.

You stroke his face gently, “I was thinking, husband,”

“What is it, my love?” He drawls as he relaxes into your touch.

“What do you think of visiting Westeros?”

His violet eyes snap open, and he gazes up at you, puzzled, “You want to go back there?”

“I do, but only for a visit,” You continue, “I'd like the children to see their homeland and be introduced properly to their kin. Also, I want to show my family off in court.” You smirk, flicking your hair behind your back.

“You little minx, you want a revenge, do you not?” Daemon returns your smirk with a sly one of his own.

Your grin grows wider, “Great minds think alike, my dragon. Yes, it's exactly what I want. I want to crush everyone who's belittled me in the past. If it pleases you, of course, my prince.”

There's a satisfied grin on the dragon's mouth, a proud one, even, “I do not mind at all, my fierce lioness. And let the small folk write songs about our love and how it conquered all...”

You chuckle giddily at him before pecking his lips, “Thank you, husband,” You grab his hand and kiss it, putting it against your cheek, “But know that it's neither Westeros nor Essos is my home...”

Daemon raises an eyebrow, “Where might it be then, my love?”

“You,” you answer with a pacing heart, “You're my one and only home...”

[ashblooddragons]

La Danse Macabre (Prologue/?)

Series Masterlist

The Red Keep

116 ac

Rhaenyras pov

I throw my head back as pain shoots through me. I feel like my body is being split in two, the searing scorching pain has already made me spill the contents of my stomach and I can feel my belly roll as another threatens to rise. 

Fourteen hours, fourteen hours, is how long this babe has been torturing me. And no one seems to care for my pain. 

“Push, Your Grace!” The Midwives scream as the most experienced of them leans between my opened legs accessing progress as she pushes on my belly to move the babe along.

“I am!” I scream at one of the midwives right next to me. A small frail girl, mousy brown hair, large blue eyes that soon have tears filling them. 

I can't find any sympathy as another shock of pain rolls through me. As I scream and push with all my might there is a knock on the door before it opens to show my Good Mother, Princess Rhaenys. 

“Move.” She says to the girl I yelled at not even a mere minute ago. She kneels next to me, taking my hand in hers. She goes to speak but I beat her. 

“I am never laying with your son again! Not if this is the reward I'm givin!” 

My words seem to amuse her if the tic of amusement on her lips is an indicator.

“I will be sure to inform him for you.” 

I can't even respond as another contraction takes over. I do don't care how loud I am as I scream and push with all my might. 

“I see the head! A few more big pushes, Your Grace!” The old midwife says as she adjusts to catch the babe. 

I hold my breath and push with all my might. I know I am crushing Princess Rhaenys hand though I cannot find any care. 

With one final push, all the pain goes away and I slouch back against the bed. After fourteen hours of labor, the pain is gone. But it is not the pain leaving my bones that brings a joyful smile to my face, it is the resounding cries of a babe. 

“A girl, Your Grace.” A midwife says as she wraps my daughter in a blue and golden embroidered blanket. 

“A girl?” I ask, tears coming to my eyes as they put my little girl in my arms. 

I knew it was Laenor's child, but looking down at her I wonder if Laenor put his clone within me. For her skin, a warm brown with those wild white curls matches him perfectly. 

I'm so lost in my little girls every move that I don't hear the midwives cleaning up, nor them letting in my husband. 

“I hear we have a little girl.” I hear Laenor say before I feel the bed dip under his weight. 

“Yes.” I whisper as I touch my little girls cheek. 

I don't care if he wishes to hold her, I have not had enough of our daughter yet. For each moment I catch something new. The way her skin feels like the finest silks from Myr. That her lips frown when I try and take my finger from her little grip. How her eyes flutter with each sound as if she is curious but would rather have sleep after a strenuous task. Or the dusting of freckles on her nose and cheeks. There is so much to learn and so little time.

“May I meet her?” I hear Laenor ask as he holds his hands out already looking at our little girl in complete awe. 

Now you know how I feel. I think as I hand him our daughter as the midwives stitch me up. 

“What should we name her?” He whispers as he marvels at what we made.

“I always wanted a Visenya, but-” I start but he finishes my sentence.

“She is no Visenya, for how could something so pure be a war queen?” 

“Exactly, which is why I think you should pick.” This seems to surprise him as he looks at me wide-eyed, but he quickly calms looking back down when our daughter grumbles and smacks her lips in frustration. 

Being a babe must be truly hard. I think bringing a smile to my face. 

“Valaena, she was the mother of the Conquers. She was said to be kind, and gentle. A Velaryon at that.” He says before looking back at me hopeful. 

“I can think of no better name.” I say with a smile before leaning closer to him to look down at our daughter.

“Our little Valaena.” I whisper before kissing her brow and taking her in again.

Special thanks to my bestie @sugutoad for making the header for this fic! I swear I'd be lost without you girly!

TAGLIST: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @classicsimpforaaronwarner @sachaa-ff @mmogurl @thelastemzy @themoonlitquill

[baelontargaryen]

BOOK DAENERYS MOMENTS || inspired by this meta

“My brother visited Pentos, Myr, Braavos, near all the Free Cities. The magisters and archons fed him wine and promises, but his soul was starved to death. A man cannot sup from the beggar’s bowl all his life and stay a man. I had my taste in Qarth, that was enough. I will not come to Pentos bowl in hand.” “Better to come a beggar than a slaver,” Arstan said. “There speaks one who has been neither.” Dany’s nostrils flared. “Do you know what it is like to be sold, squire? I do. My brother sold me to Khal Drogo for the promise of a golden crown. Well, Drogo crowned him in gold, though not as he had wished, and I . . . my sun-and-stars made a queen of me, but if he had been a different man, it might have been much otherwise. Do you think I have forgotten how it felt to be afraid?” Whitebeard bowed his head. “Your Grace, I did not mean to give offense.” “Only lies offend me, never honest counsel.” Dany patted Arstan’s spotted hand to reassure him. “I have a dragon’s temper, that’s all. You must not let it frighten you.”

— Daenerys II, A Storm of Swords

[myrquez]

imagine vale riding with the boys at the ranch. and suddenly you he notices. it’s very subtle. you have to really focus to notice it in real time without telemetry. but it’s there. a subtle difference in the way bezz is braking. and he KNOWS that braking approach and style. he’d know it anywhere. he spent years observing it.

and now he’s trying not to fall of the bike when the realisation hits him. marc is ruining his favourite daughter

oh DEAR. this is what he has being seeing in his nightmares every night since he was a young newly christened father and franco just a little baby on a minibike. every. night. even now. it still haunts him. and when it happens, again, he knows. and this breaks him.

what he has to do now. scream? cry? revoke the left earring privilege? reenact the whole little mermaid’s but daddy i love him scene with him? call a priest?

or just pulling a valentino rossi psychological warfare on him and tell him he sucks. that left hand corner was shit. even luca on a honda could ride it faster than him. even giulietta on a trycicle could rode into that corner better than him. find yourself again marco this isn’t YOU

[socketsuspension]

the way petnames that sound like they could be said by some older vampire are just… so lovely to me.

like someone referring to me as my love, or (my) darling, or beloved? absolute peak.

[elliegoose]

doing a funny thing and making my one of my lancer groups fight themselves.

the player team comp is:

MYR-CALLA the pegasus

LAVENDER MENACE the balor

ANARKITTY the gorgon

VEIL the dusk wing

and C'LAMITY the raleigh, who is an alt of the pegasus player (c'lamity won't be in the fight but i needed five enemies)

therefore, the corresponding enemy comp is:

CARMILLA, a complete rewriting of the rainmaker that doesn't have any rockets to speak of (i just wanted to used its base stats and a couple of the base traits). i wrote in the mimic gun as a new weapon, wrote in the omnigun as a new trait, dropped both the missile pods and the javelin rockets, and added the scout's marker rifle. it also has chronotorus from the exotic template to approximate the abilities of the sisyphus NHP.

PURPLE ANNOYANCE, a lurker with the exotic template's regeneration ability

COMMUNIST FELINE, a sentinel with the horror's terrifying trait and the archer's suppress and impending threat reaction options

CURTAIN, a hornet, which is already just a dusk wing

C'TASTROPHY, a slinger, which is already just a raleigh

[diamondperfumes]

Culture is a central aspect of Dany's arc. As such, it is a central feature of interpretations of her character, whether such interpretations are positive or negative.

The majority of ASOIAF fans dislike Dany's relationship with culture. What I find interesting, however, is that ASOIAF fans end up rejecting Dany's place in every culture she's part of.

Dany was born on Dragonstone, and immediately fled to Braavos when Rhaella died. When Viserys and Daenerys were forced to leave the Sealord's Manse, they traveled through the Free Cities: Lys, Myr, Tyrosh. Dany speaks Valyrian with a Tyroshi accent/dialect. Six months before the events of AGOT, Viserys and Daenerys land up in Illyrio's manse in Pentos.

Dany unequivocally adopts Dothraki culture as her own. She worships the Dothraki Horse God, speaks Dothraki fluently, wears the hrakkar when she wants to be comfortable, prefers her Dothraki riding leathers, painted vest, and medallion belt to the Meereenese tokar (and wears such an outfit when she wants to project strength), wears bells in her hair, considers Dothraki funeral rites for her own eventual death, loves horse riding, and sees herself as part of the Dothraki land. She is a Khaleesi of her own Khalasar, and also foreshadowed to be the Stallion who Mounts the World.

Dany spends time in Qarth, recovering from the perils of the Red Waste, figuring her leadership style out as a beggar queen, before she is kicked out of the city. There she meets Quaithe, who recurs as an ambiguous guide and mentor in her arc. She also receives various prophecies from the Undying, before they try to devour her. Xaro becomes an ally, and then enemy, and she learns important lessons from him. She gets her three-headed dragon crown, wrought in jade, ivory, and onyx, from the Pureborn of Qarth.

Dany conquers Slaver's Bay, moving from Astapor, to Yunkai, to Meereen, before ruling Meereen as Queen. She tries to free slaves and abolish slavery in each city. She wears the Meereenese tokar, speaks Ghiscari in court, marries Hizdahr zo Loraq in the Meereenese fashion, re-opens the fighting pits, trains her child hostages as cupbearers, and tries to be the "queen of rabbits." The bulk of the exploration of her leadership style and ideology is in Slaver's Bay.

Dany wants to reconquer Westeros on behalf of the Targaryen dynasty, and idealizes Westeros as a beautiful land. She names the habitat Drogon carves out for himself as Dragonstone.

Dany longs for the house with the red door and lemon tree. The two places she admits to being happiest in are Braavos (the house with the red door) and the Dothraki Sea. She once wanted to be a sailor. She has dreams of living a simple life with Daario. She also wants to be queen.

Dany speaks Ghiscari, High Valyrian, Tyroshi Valyrian (and likely other Valyrian dialects, like Pentoshi Valyrian), the Common Tongue, and Dothraki. She worships both the Faith of the Seven and the Dothraki Horse God. She has a connection to R'hllorism. She's lived in various Free Cities, the Dothraki Sea, Qarth, and Meereen. She's been through the Red Waste, Vaes Dothrak, Astapor, and Yunkai.

ASOIAF fans reject every one of Dany's relationships to these locations and cultures.

She is considered entitled, and imperialistic, for wanting to reconquer Westeros. Most theories of her dying center around the futility of conquest, the violence of House Targaryen, the selfishness of holding on to its name, the fact of her exile, and even that she is "foreign" to the land and culture. Many point out that she doesn't know "anything" about Westeros, that her father was Aerys II, that her family are "oppressive conquerors," and that her family lost the throne. Some will come up with convoluted reasons to claim that Jon Snow or Young Griff are ahead of her in the line of succession (so the throne belongs to a Targaryen, just not her). She won't "respect" Northern independence, Dornish independence, Ironborn independence, etc.

She is considered violent, tyrannical, and a threat to Westeros because of her connection to the Dothraki. She is accused of being an enabler of slavery and rape for being Drogo's wife, and then a she-Khal. The stallion who mounts the world prophecy is used as "proof" that she will go mad, or that she will burn Westeros to the ground in her conquest. She is accused of romanticizing Dothraki culture. She's blamed for what happens to the women of the Lhazarene village, particularly Mirri. Phrases such as "she is a white woman whose arc is propped up by the suffering of women of color/characters of color" are usually located here.

Dany is accused of not really caring about slavery because "she didn't do anything about it in Qarth," and stayed in Xaro's manse as a guest.

At the same time, Dany is seen as a white/Westerosi character "imposing her foreign/Western values" upon Essos. She is accused of "trying to civilize" Dothraki culture and "appropriating/mimicking" it. The phrase "white man's burden" is usually thrown around here. She's accused of raping Irri, her arc being built on Irri and Jhiqui's suffering, and the Dothraki being painted as "savage" for her own trauma. She is mocked as naive and ignorant for not appreciating the beauty of Qarth and wanting to return to Westeros in spite of being there, accused of being unfair toward Xaro in expecting an alliance from him, accused of being a cultural imperialist for burning down the House of the Undying.

Her time in Slaver's Bay receives the lion's share of the critique. She ruins its political economy. She destroys the region. She profits from slavery while claiming to be antislavery. She causes the freedmen to face poverty, violence, murder, rape, and suffering. She doesn't do enough against rapists and looters. She chooses fire and blood over the Meereenese peace, which is seen as a negative. She colonizes Slaver's Bay. She is like the US in Afghanistan or Iraq––invading for selfish reasons and then leaving, causing a rightwing insurgency to grow. She commits war crimes by torturing the wineseller's daughters and crucifying 163 Great Masters of Meereen, leaders of the city.

Yet the irony of this is captured in how people criticize her presence in Meereen: she is accused of ruining the city as an imperialist and is then criticized for wanting to sail away to conquer Westeros. So essentially, she has no place in Meereen, but she is also a bad person for wanting to leave it for Westeros.

As a Targaryen, and a Valyrian in general, her presence is seen as oppressive to both Westeros and Essos. Westeros because of the Targaryen conquest, Essos because of the legacy of the Valyrian Freehold. She's criticized for being "allies" with Illyrio Mopatis, a slaveowner, and people theorize that Braavos will hate her for being a Valyrian with dragons. Yet she is also criticized for not resettling in the house with the red door (presumably in Braavos, no?) and instead wanting to conquer Westeros. She is "too stupid" to appreciate how "beautiful and advanced" Essos is, and too focused on idealizing Westeros, but she is also too Westerosi/white/foreign to Essos.

In other words, for ASOIAF fans, Dany does not deserve to belong to any culture. Seeking a place in Westeros means that she is entitled, selfish, privileged, and oppressive. Being a Dothraki Khaleesi means that she simultaneously romanticizes slavery and is trying to civilize brown people. Conquering Slaver's Bay is an act of imperialism from a Western tyrant seeking resources, but leaving Slaver's Bay is an act of imperialism from a Western tyrant fleeing a war they started. Staying in Qarth means that she romanticizes slavery, but not fitting in there and idealizing Westeros means she is like an American tourist in the Global South, who cannot appreciate the real value of where she is in favor of a backwater Global North (Westeros). Being Valyrian means she is inherently responsible for slavery, and thus does not belong in Braavos or Westeros, but if she lives in Qarth, the Free Cities, or conquers Slaver's Bay to abolish slavery, she is trying to make Old Valyria rise again. She ruined Meereen and will burn Volantis, but she will also burn King's Landing and maybe even Sunspear.

If I ask ASOIAF fans what culture she belongs to, or which continent she should be part of, doubtless I will get multiple answers. But those answers will end up contradicting themselves. The reality is that these are not scattered rejections––the people rejecting Dany's place in each culture will, at different times, reject all the places Dany occupies in said cultures. Someone who on one day says Dany is a backwater white person who can't appreciate the beauty of Qarth will on the next day claim that she is reviving the violence of the Targaryen dynasty upon Dorne and the North by planning to invade Westeros. Someone who will wax lyrical about how she is a white woman whose arc is built on the suffering of women of color, and thus that she is a Nazi, or white supremacist, will on another day call her a rape enabling slave profiteer for being Drogo's wife and a Khaleesi.

Perhaps this is the natural conclusion of a character who is intentionally written as stateless and homeless. A nomad, an exile, a diasporic teenage girl, who longs for various "homes" and has different ideas of "home" in her head. But what does it say about ASOIAF fans that they reject her relationship with every culture? They don't want her in Essos or Westeros. We don't know what's west of Westeros, as we never hear the outcome of Elissa Farman's voyage. Doubtless the same fears people have of Dany living and thriving in Essos or Westeros would apply to any lands west of Westeros too. So where do they want her? There is an answer to this, which only a few ASOIAF fans are honest enough to admit: that Dany should have died in childbirth, or on the journey to Braavos, or on the Dothraki Sea, as Illyrio intended. Sadly, most ASOIAF fans are not brave enough to admit that their rejection of Dany's various cultural "places" is actually just a disguise for their dissatisfaction at her existence in the narrative.

(Whether or not that dissatisfaction is merited, whether or not it is motivated by genuine, "progressive" literary reasons, is another conversation. ASOIAF fans are indeed free to be upset about her presence as a character, or to theorize that she will be a villain because of her cultural statelessness. Right now, though, this post focuses on the question of "what culture could Dany be a part of without being a threat." The answer, for most ASOIAF fans, seems to be that Dany, child of storm, was born a threat to the entire world of ice and fire).

[paeliae-occasionally]

HI PAE PAE! 👋👾🙇‍♀️

how was laith’t (i’m not trusting myself with that spelling) impacted by paeliae’s death?

Great question! It is true that Laith’Tielere highly honoured Paeliae, in the way that any society honours a rare good politician. The caveat here is that Paeliae didn’t just die, he died carrying a peace treaty and ending a war that had been tearing Tielere apart for years. Like genuinely if the treaty didn’t happen, Tielere probably wouldn’t exist today and even now it is much less prominent than it once was.

When news of the Accords came out, Paeliae was treated like a saviour who single handedly saved the lives of everyone who lived in that city, so obviously his legacy was loud and long lasting.

So Tielere became a minor city under the control of Myr, but Myr honoured Paeliae like a god or a folk hero. There were friezes on temples of him speaking to Azhan and statues in all of the major cities of him carrying the treaty. There were a whole bunch of Paeliae cults who would pray to him to end their conflicts or to guide politicians into wise choices.

In the inauguration of new members of the Miras council they would read a section of one of Paeliae’s philosophical writings and would be told to go and serve as well as he did. He was seen as a role model for any politician or leader to base their decisions off. The council also was revered as speaking with Paeliae’s authority.

While most of this was considered legend by the people, his influence did cause democracy to continue in Miras for all of the hundreds of years that it ruled.

It got a little weird but his writings were really important to the development of Myr and likely did more good than harm.

Thanks for the ask!

[thevelaryons]

I know Aurane only serves himself but what does he actually want to achieve?

My guess is that he either:

1. really wants to experience the pirate life

2. is planning on declaring for one of the Targaryen claimants

During the small council meetings in AFFC, Aurane is the one bringing up dragons (Daenerys) and the Golden Company (Aegon):

“One last thing, Your Grace,” said Aurane Waters, in an apologetic tone. “I hesitate to take up the council’s time with trifles, but there has been some queer talk heard along the docks of late. Sailors from the east. They speak of dragons …”

— A Feast for Crows, Cersei IV

“Whilst we await Lord Walder’s death, there is another matter,” said Aurane Waters. “The Golden Company has broken its contract with Myr. Around the docks I’ve heard men say that Lord Stannis has hired them and is bringing them across the sea.”

— A Feast for Crows, Cersei IV

Ironically enough, Dany's admiral, Groleo, also speaks to her of dragons:

“Those ships are strangling us, and all my admiral can do is talk of dragons,” Dany said. “You are my admiral, are you not?” “An admiral without ships.” “Build ships.”

— A Dance with Dragons, Daenerys V

Well, Groleo is dead by the end of ADWD. Though I would just count this as among the moments of Dany and Cersei being narrative foils of each other.

Then there's also the instance of one of the leaders in the Golden Company, Lysono Maar, wishing to enlist the service of a pirate fleet to help them (in reaching Dany):

“I slipped into Volantis myself, posing as a trader, to learn how many ships might be available to us. The harbor teems with galleys, cogs, and carracks of every sort and size, yet even so I soon found myself consorting with smugglers and pirates. We have ten thousand men in the company, as I am sure Lord Connington remembers from his years of service with us. Five hundred knights, each with three horses. Five hundred squires, with one mount apiece. And elephants, we must not forget the elephants. A pirate ship will not suffice. We would need a pirate fleet …”

— A Dance with Dragons, The Lost Lord

There just so happens to be a pirate fleet hanging around in the middle of the Narrow Sea. Could mean something. Could mean nothing.