#ravasz

[morewoe]

closed for @ravasz

The  blood  on  her  hands  was  drying,  congealing  in  the  cool  breeze  as  she  stalked  the  hallway.  Scythe  lives  up  to  her  name,  a  weapon,  because  what  else  was  there  to  do  but  revert?  Shed  lion's  cloak  and  strike  out  into  the  night  armed  with  little  more  than  a  dagger  and  the  desire  to  harm.  Ostensibly,  should  anyone  ask,  she  is  there  trying  to  protect  those  who  found  themselves  without  weapon,  that  is  the  excuse  she  will  give  when  she  is  inevitably  asked,  so  when  she  sees  Martyn  Stark,  she  cannot  simply  walk  on.  No,  she  stops,  flexes  stiff  fingers  around  the  blade,  and  clears  her  throat  to  make  herself  known.  "Your  wolf  could  make  short  work  of  these  attackers.  I  would  not  like  to  be  on  the  receiving  end  of  their  claws  or  teeth."

[egyedembegyedem]

[disrcpairs]

“  a  feather  gave  you  amusement  at  the  ball  ?  was  it  that  terribly  dull  for  you  ,  lord  stark  ?  ”  wishes  to  make  it  a  jest  ,  yet  youngest  rose's  expression  gave  away  the  fears  .  to  have  not  enjoyed  the  ball  due  to  her  mother's  influence  a  difference  to  guests  that  did  not  enjoy  their  time  in  highgarden  .  “  what  more  do  you  enjoy  aside  from  singing  ?  ”  voice  lowers  though  none  that  mill  about  pay  them  attention  ,  yet  alyssa  had  not  forgotten  promise  to  the  wolf  lord  .  it  does  not  stop  her  from  keeping  the  distance  between  them  out  of  respect  and  neck  cranes  to  look  up  into  the  branches  in  search  of  the  elusive  kitten  .  “  i  know  when  games  are  not  tipped  in  my  favor  ,  lord  martyn  .  if  we  are  to  play  a  game  it  would  need  be  one  where  i  am  not  fated  to  lose  .  ”         

"A feather--" They nodded, as if it didn't sound as funny as it did, swallowing the laugh back down. The last thing they wanted was for her to think they would laugh at her. Even though she was very funny, aided by half a dozen cups of wine or not. Any restraint he managed to hold himself to was all but gone once she spoke again, laughing along. "Believe it or not, a feather gave me much delight at the ball. Short lived, but it did amuse me. I've always been rather restless, even as a child, so I would need many activities to tire myself out. Which is why I've so many hobbies." He'd never really thought about it that way, but it definitely made sense. They would do anything to keep their ever-racing mind at bay. She bumped into them, just as they'd expected, turning to have hand reach out, but stopping halfway in the air. "...Must've hidden somewhere. How about we play a game while we search for him?" Hand rested by his side again before he stepped off the road, looking up at the branches of the trees. "The game is quite simple: the first one to apologize loses. And the winner gets their wish granted."

[ofdutyx]

closed starter for @ravasz

footsteps  were  quick  as  the  youngest  florent  moved  swiftly  through  the  bushes,  hoping  her  late  arrival to their secret spot  would  not  be  met  with  too  much  disdain.  but  when  she  broke  through  the  final  barrier  and  saw  her  painting  partner  was  still  there,  melessa  let  out  a  soft  sigh  of  relief.  "forgive  me,  lord  stark--"  she  began,  rushing  to  set  the  shoulder  bag  (  which  was  filled  with  her  paints,  brushes,  and  a  small  canvas  )  she  carried  onto  the  soft  grass that filled the clearing.  " there  were  candy  cap  mushrooms  on  the  way  and-- "  though  her  voice  was  quiet,  her  words  were  rushed--almost  panicked.  but  she  reached  into  the  pocket  of  her  cloak,  withdrawing  a  handful  of  the  mushrooms.  " my  soul  ached  at  the  thought  of  passing  them  up. i thought we could enjoy them together. "

[dearorphic]

🫂 laina and martyn uwu

[...] She thinks he's annoying, but affectionately but, also in a way that leads her to underestimate him. They're both cruel, the difference is that Laina believes herself above their antics because she's seen them before. It's all superficial, until it isn't.

And maybe I kind of like the idea that they're both navigating the court under pretenses made to defend themselves too. Not a lot of ppl see beyond Laina's toxic positivity and think it's not legit.

Competitiveness between them also sparks her outrage when she hears her own plans have been encroached upon, whether in the pursuit of a kiss with someone or in the affections of another - he's already a step ahead of her. Am I saying this rubs her inferiority complex the wrong way? yeah.

" The Moon Prince and the Sun Maiden? Should it not be the Moon Wench and the Sun King ? " " Perhaps the Moon King, and the Sun Wench then. "

But it also makes her affectionate, it makes her vulnerable in a way only her family has seen and knows of her. Because again, she's been born to keep everything and everyone at a distance as shown with her betrothed, her siblings, and all her crushes she puts on a pedestal like shiny little trinkets and treasures. Laina is forced onto the stage with Martyn.

Laina dotes on Martyn, for play and as practice and as casually as her whims allow. Only because of the way they interact, it wouldn't ever be anything more than just them playing at them being Dorne's brave knight, or a her being a beauty whose kisses he steals. All that, just to know its a fun game to be forgotten when another comes along and makes it serious for the both of them. As she doesn't take him seriously, and thinks he doesn't take her seriously either.

" My bravest knight? You mean my brother. " " Not at all. " " I'll only believe it when you bring me his sword, you insufferable pup. "

[wcrfcres]

no gasp , no scream , and no fight left in her body . only a confusing kind of calm takes over , even as martyn called out to her . her vision lost i ts vividness , no longer were her eyes able to focus on the scene unfolding before her . or rather the path leading to the carnage he spoke of in great detail . her eyes were only on the northern lord , his attempt to ease their way into the great descent to the unknown laid upon by the stranger . dyanna braces herself for the pain , for the tugging and ripping at the body she had treated most sacred above all things . the images that graced her mind were horrific , a chilling end to a beauty she been long proud of . the seconds that stretched far in between felt longer than they should . with her breath held , they felt like agonizingly longer . ❝ dusk ? ❞ the feeling was far worse than falling in a dream , and the laugh . the awful laugh that taunted her back to reality . when the fright disperses and it dawned upon her what foolishness she was lured into . frustration swirls beneath smooth , flushed skin , hand raised harshly brushes past martyn's cheek . not entirely a slap , not a punch either , but nonetheless heavy handed . ❝ you are hateful , martyn stark . ❞ dyanna brings herself back to her feet , shame and frustration crumpled at the hems of her skirt . urge to touch the direwolf had been fought , instead stern steps taken to leave the presence of the annoying lord .

"I-I... I don't know--" He lied, no, acted in his role of the frightened, useless and pathetic little liege flawlessy, even with the amount of laughter that was tickling the bottom of his throat already, threatening to erupt at any moment. His character for the play was frozen in place, the actor all but enjoying the lady's hand pressed up to his chest like that, but one could only tell if they took the time to really search his eyes. It was admirable to see the lady still hadn't run away, and Martyn was more than grateful, for the great finale was about to begin. "Lady Dyanna, watch out!" He hopped in front of her again, but only halfway, so that she would have the perfect view as the great beast lunged from the shadows, sharp canines on display as amber glinting as the direwolf came into the candlelight, greeting his companion with a low rumble and a nudge of his head. "There you are, Dusk!" Martyn gasped between laughs, fingers running through the fur of the direwolf to give him an affectionate pet. "Apologies, my lady, he has a tendency to make an entrance."

[paciember]

A hatalom megragadása

Ez a vita sorsfordító pillanatot rögzít, és ma már több okból sem lenne lehetséges. Nincs már Baló, nincs már szabad sajtó, de nincsen Orbán sem, aki leül egy nyílt vitára, amelyben képes profi módon kommunikálni és érvelni. Hogy mindebben mennyi a hazugság, az főleg most látszik, 18 év után, amikor már mindenki számára - ideértve a híveit is - nyilvánvaló, hogy tudatosan és rendszerszerűen elkövette mindazt, amivel itt a politikai ellenfelét vádolja. Az örömében fickándozó bonviván tenorja után az elhízott, nehézfejű és gonosz despota fejezte be a politika erkölcsi kiüresítését. "Persze, hogy hazudik, mert egy ravasz róka; de hát nem erről szól a politika?" Senki nem hisz már semmiben, követői a pénz után mennek, hitelessége a szemükben is legfeljebb annyi, mint a javíthatatlan bűnözőé, aki unalomig ismert, kiszámítható trükkjeit süti el újra meg újra. És ha mindaz meglenne, ami nincs, akkor látszana, hogy mennyire hiányzik az az újságíró, vagy egye fene, politikus, aki képes lenne szembesíteni mindezekkel a pofonegyszerű, nyilvánvaló és letagadhatatlan, megsemmisítő igazságokkal. Üres a színpad.

[kepeslajoska]

A kis ravasz feltalálta magát. Felismered?

[crimsonsbled]

all  night  shirei  tossed  and  turned  ,  unable  to  sleep  .  she  blamed  it  on  the  storm  brewing  outside  but  her  gut  had  told  her  it  was  something  else  .  lightning  illuminated  her  chambers  but  in  the  distance  ,  there  was  something  more  .  “  what  has  happened  ?  ”  ruling  lady  jumped  out  of  her  covers  ,  brows  furrowed  with  worry  .  "  you  are  worrying  me  .  .  .  what  is  it  ?  "

𝗰𝗹𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗿     :    @steelfyre , @ravasz , @sunlaid

[wcrfcres]

conversation no longer confined within glances , not even those within earshot . notes skipping and voices falling on him like snow offered questions , sought his opinions even when its owners were focused elsewhere . his face numbing by the minute , warmth vibrating beneath thin layer of skin , and he swore another sensation swims and hums beneath it . ❝ aren't you dim - witted , martyn? are you? ❞ sense of balance trickling just above his nape , falling off his shoulders as his head felt like a door with loose hinges , one gust of wind away from knocking down . though he bit his tongue when confession almost slipped , hand reaching to cover his mouth to stop it and the laughter that bounces at the back of his mouth . ❝ you won't duel me , will you? you'd hurt me because you're a mushroom ? ❞

❝ i have no idea what you're talking about , ❞ truth that resonates with his entire being , at least parts that remained capable of entertaining his senses . they are dwindling in number , but he could still feel the bullets of sweat , smell the heavy , perfumed air and whiffs of tarts and arrays of dessert on a nearby platter , and his hand on his bestfriend's shoulder . stance not dependent on the way he leaned on him , but a guide of sorts to remind himself which is upright and which is , well , not . one thought passes by his mind , like hunters who ride swiftly during a hunt . martyn's words were the same . if not mumbled , thoroughly distorted that confusion fuses with frustration on his face as he tried to make sense of it . and it takes him some few minutes to respond , ❝ you won't kiss me , you won't dance with me , but you'd pass notes to strangers? how can you call yourself my friend , lord stark? ❞

"It applies to me more than it does to you!" A bite back, just because they could, to keep their banter up, a game that was played between two friends without the promise of it ending any time in the foreseeable future. They knew Alaric had far too much to drink when he had that endearing smile on his face, along with that frown on his forehead whenever he was overcome by possibly the most interesting of thoughts only a man whose brain was seeped in enough wine could come up with. There was a high-pitched laugh that slipped out of Martyn as he turned to look at his friend, muttering and smirking to himself as if the conversation he was having in his mind was more amusing than the one he was having out loud with his friend. "Did'ya just call me a mushroom and dim-witted at the same time? I think by northern standards I ought to duel you now... but I've got better things to do." He turned then, shaking his head. He will get him back for this later.

At least, that was what he thought before his height was insulted as well. He turned back around, again, grabbing his friend's tunic by his collarbone and pulling him down to his level to look him in the eyes. "Joust winner or not, you'll be sorry if you keep this up, Mormont." His tone was a lot less threatening than his words, more like a parent lecturing a naughty child. Or a wolf scolding a drunken bear. Martyn smiled and let go of his foolish friend, looking down to arrange the messages in his hand when Alaric thought to utter a secret no one else should've heard, and his head shot up, a free hand swatting at the other man as he shushed him. "As if I'd want to kiss a blabbering oaf like you ever again!" He whispered, carefully looking around to see if anyone ha caught wind of what they were talking about. "...I can't believe it. Why am I the responsible one here? I've become you and you've become me."

[morewoe]

closed for @ravasz

As  far  as  Gysella  had  been  led  to  believe,  the  North  was  full  of  frosty  personalities,  too  predisposed  to  being  glum  or  foreboding  to  put  much  stock  into  liveliness,  the  people  a  reflection  of  their  harsh  landscape,  or  perhaps  the  other  way  around.  In  a  way  it  reminded  her  of  home,  practicality  placed  above  indulgence,  and  and  such  had  been  rather  overlooked  in  her  mind,  more  than  happy  to  find  herself  further  south,  where  tempers  ran  warmer.  Had  the  middle  Stark  not  been  informed  of  such?  Too  loud,  too  jovial,  she  had  seen  him  in  different  lights,  and  none  had  endeared  them  to  her.  And  yet  there  seemed  no  gain  in  outward  disapproval  to  any  member  of  a  great  house,  with  one  rather  large  exception.  Sickly  sweet  smile  pulls  at  lips  but  does  not  quite  meet  dark  eyes.  "You  certainly  are  a  hard  one  to  miss,  Lord  Stark."

[regalxpoise]

"you cannot live your life in fear, or you will forsake the best parts of it.” From @ravasz

She looks up from her empty goblet, exhaustion so deep her violet gaze is dimmed to a murky color. The corner of her mouth quirks, nearly impressed with Martyn. He was right. “I’m just so tired.” Aelora murmured, “And not from the wine.” Her voice cracked, and the young Targaryen bowed her head slightly, Martyn would never know her restless nights, the constant ache of knowing and witnessing with no real to power to do anything. To understand anything. “Fear is easier to curb than anger.”

[disrcpairs]

“  that's  an  impossible  scenario  .  my  ideas  are  carefully  crafted  for  success  —  all  of  them  .  ”  failures  unspoken  of  ,  reminders  rewritten  in  history  and  glossed  over  .  “  yet  can  you  charm  them  well  enough  for  them  to  give  two  poor  ,  bored  ,  un  -  inebriated  northerners  a  sip  or  two  ?  ”  dramatics  to  over  shadow  the  sadness  of  losing  potential  friendship  ,  a  .  .  .  crush  that  would  never  amount  to  anything  .  known  yet  still  hurtful  to  the  ego  .  “  what  did  lady  bolton  do  to  you  ?  ”  curious  as  to  if  it  was  a  family  wide  dislike  or  if  barbs  were  extra  pointed  towards  her  for  sole  offense  of  awe  .  “  who  have  you  upset  today  ?  was  it  intentional  or  accident  ?  ” 

"Except the ones that aren't." The usual quick paced dialogue between the two siblings brought a sense of comfort to him, one that was much needed, a breath of fresh air in the midst of the festivities hosted only as a thin veil used as a feeble cover over deep wounds. "I reckon any other drink that isn't from here should work." His gaze kept shifting from one guest to another, all the while listening to his sister. He couldn't help the bitter smile that tugged on his lips as she recalled upsetting others, whether it was with intention or not. "If it helps, I've also upset a couple of people today." He gently nudged Arya in the side as they walked, before moving an arm around her for comfort. "Us Starks have a tendency for being blamed for another's bad mood. Do not take lady Redwyne's sourness to heart. She just needs to put her grief somewhere. As for lady Bolton... well, she had it coming."

[dearorphic]

🫂 for robert and marty ✨️

[...] Prideful Robert Karstark was raised differently than his brother, Jon, in the heart of the North where survival was paramount and the winds of winter were made holy. There was no beauty, nor eye for art beyond the wall. Only silence. Which makes Martyn a force he hadn't expected, but never dismissed as to what he settles for. Robert is always watching Martyn, out of concern and in stern guidance, for he believed that Martyn would be lost without it.

" Your brother has settled for this instead of diplomacy, Martyn, how would you have settled the disagreements between the two trading houses who seek passage across our waters? "

Old habits die hard, and Robert saw to it that whenever Martyn was around him during a house council hearing he would seek out his opinion, which then would lead to a long, tireless tirade and a lesson on why it would or wouldn't work. Keeping an eye out for Martyn has made him develop a keen awareness of where he could be, which is eerily scary but necessary for young Martyn's tutelage.

" You'd be a disappointing bard, Martyn. You want too many to appreciate it is you crafting them a tale, when they already know who you are. What they don't want you to know, is that your stories are terrible. "

He does not appreciate the foolishness of Martyn's story's, especially the ones that are self-deprecating or belittling to his own self. Where Martyn is the winter sun, Robert is the biting cold. It's like oil and water, there's bound to be miscommunications between the two, the difference is that Robert can't see beyond his lens as a patriarchal figure. Like, love is there, for sureee.

[insooth]

open starter ft. lady vereena caron. location: the grand ballroom || the hour: afternoon of the day after the ball accepting (4/5) – @ravasz, @crvwncd, @dearorphic, @disrcpairs, +1

“I see the stage remains set." Though shades of mundanity overtook the dramatics, now that the show was over, the picture of grandiosity was clear enough, enthralling all of the court to heed the whims of a select few. It would be disingenuous to say she simply 'didn't mind' missing the ball, and she had her own restless reasons for that, but– regardless, the notion of such a conniving little dance arrangement did not sit well with her. "No flourish spared for the spectacle." Slender fingers reach for one of the uncanny Tyrell blooms woven around a pillar, trailing through hardened, gold-dusted petals – token of the bold lavishness their hosts flaunted. A huff in soft amusement escapes her before she clasps at the stem and plucks it off with a deliberate twist. Its scent, brought to face, detestably sweet, as her wince betrays. Distaste not entirely wiped from semblance as violet orbs flicker at the liege in the room with her. “You were here for it, I'm guessing, my Liege. Did you dance to the Ruling Lady's tune?"

[wcrfcres]

perhaps he had been wrong about the lord of winterfell , of the extent of his influence . expectation set too high for a mere pup , nasty habit but a risk he's willing to take anyway . if he wanted to be careful , he'd consult his dead father or his vain sister . but neither are satisfactory choices , both unable to add value to his plans — not then , not now . hope was held onto with the glint of interest gwyneth had for the stark lord . but he was right to anticipate disappointment ! he assumed hesitation . from what he's heard , martyn stark had a penchant for making a scene , putting his larger - than - life personality in full display , for the court to see and talk about . he can only assume here is a much bigger stage for him to play jester now , compared to the frozen wasteland he calls home . ❝ you're most welcome , lord stark . ❞ dornish lord goes through with chosen façade , equally pleasant and painstakingly interested in the mundane , as is every lord in westerosi court . no one can be that interested to listen to another person . most are probably taught to sit down and smile , and know nothing else . ❝ perspective is a good thing to have . though i must say , you must like seeing things from a higher point of view . don't you , my lord? ❞

How amusing it was, to force pleasantries out of others. Usually it was the other way around, which was why Martyn could tell the slight stiffness behind agreeing smiles and complimentary words. They had half a mind to give the lord a twirl to show the full view of their garments, along with their accessories, yet they decided against it. Instead, they laughed, and whispered a pleased "Thank you!", seeming as if it was the most polite and agreeable conversation between the two. There was a glint of something in lord Garin's eyes that had Martyn both curious, and somewhat taken aback, and the question coming from him afterward blew a horn of warning in his mind. The smile that climbed his lips was slow, but he decided to tell the truth. "In the near future? Not if I can help it. After so much traveling under these circumstances, one simply longs for home. For the far future, however... I suppose I've always wanted to see the Eyrie. The view must be incredible! Or perhaps, I would like to visit the Wall again. Seeing such a thing gives one perspective, y'see. Last time I was only a boy, I can barely remember it..." Hopefully, some dull story about their childhood would throw the lord off whatever scent he found himself catching onto.