#touney

[jujujumping]

Flore Giraud & Ulisca du Touney in the 1,40 GP qualifier at the Championnat de France, Thursday 20th April 2023 (📷 Héloïse Thebault)

[bugtypetournament]

BUG TYPE TOUNEY

[opmilfzine]

✨ MILF TOURNAMENT: Round 4 ✨

It's time for Round 4 of our touney - cast your vote in the next 24 hours! 🥂

Vote here on Twitter:

✨ Big Mom vs Stussy Buckingham

✨ Gerd vs Morley

---

Thank you for the boost! 🥂 @opfandombase @opzinebulletin @onepiece-polls

[zeloinator]

I’m gonna tag the wol touney stuff with ZeePropaganda and wolparty starting now! If ya dont wanna look at that stuff then thats what to filter! 💖💖💖

[oldirishpanda]

I just got done applying everyone cross your fingers for me to get into this tourney! #touney #tournament #pestily #legend #100participants #chancetoshine #pvp #dogtags #collect #crossfingers #tarkov #tarkovcommunity #tarkovmemes #escapefromtarkov #escapefromtarkovmemes #escapefromtarkovclip #gamerlife #game #3hours https://www.instagram.com/p/CENBTSYhiE3/?igshid=11t306qo764aa

[cashcowspokertv]

#p4b #poker4breakfast #rooster #cashcowspokertv #cashcowspoker #tour #touney #tournament #corona #virus #wsop #goodrun #rungood #rungoodgear #poker #grinders #p4b&cashcows #💵🐄♠️ https://www.instagram.com/p/B9zJmFcAzWD/?igshid=bdfwgq1iscki

[doedipus]

Removing my limiters and asking direct questions about wtf is gonna happen with Wednesday night fights now that the series e qualifiers are finally over

Like, we still don't know whether we can start allowing Mexican and Canadian entrants again, or if we can switch back to a best of 3 format

Plus it's unclear whether the actual series e games will interfere with our guilty gear +r brackets or if we're expected to shuffle shit around and/or run more stuff

[jostsaying]

Ryan Graves Bowen Byram

🤝

Players in the Avs system leading in Plus/Minus

[sare11aa11eras]

Lyanna’s “oh shit” moment @ the tourney of harenhal

[brinnanza]

I usually skip the interview round in jeopardy, but I happened to catch one where alex trebeck called this woman out for calling him the devil on a previous appearance (because he was trying to tempt her into going for a true daily double) and now every time he does that “well you COULD make it a true daily double ;)” I’m like, “this is why that woman called u the devil alex!!!!”

[stinkyhyena9000]

Sing Character Tourney

Sorry for the bit late postage, but here comessssss

Round Seven!!!

Below is the link to the polls to vote on your faves!

Ryan vs Porsha [ x ]

Meena vs Ash [ x ]

Click "Keep Reading" for me pretending to me a sports commentator (once again), plus stats

Previous Post [ ← ] Next Post [ → ]

In a fight between father and daughter, Porsha and Jimmy Crystal face off! In the end, Porsha sends Jimmy skedaddling away, winning by an astounding 15 votes! moving Porsha onto the next round. Jimmy: 1 vote (6%) | Porsha: 16 votes (94%)

Ryan and Nooshy have an argument over who's a better partner for Johnny (C'mon guys! He has two hands to hold! You can both date him). Ultimately, Ryan wins in the end by a close 1 vote, moving him onto the next round! (Who knows, maybe he'll get to see Johnny in the end). Nooshy: 8 votes (47%) | Ryan: 9 votes (53%)

I forgot to write this entry 'till a day later, but Ash beat out Miss Crawly by an outstanding 13 votes. Ash moves onto the next round. Miss Crawly: 2 votes (12%) | Ash: 15 votes (88%)

In an amazing turn of events, #MEENASWEEP seems to be making a return in this here touney. Meena has managed to defeat Suki by an impressive 13 votes, moving her onto the next round!! Let's go Meena!! Meena: 15 votes (88%) | Suki: 2 votes (12%)

Here's here picture of the bracket for y'all who are interested

[sethmacenzie]

The Dead Layds club and why Lyanna is a bad example

@joannalannister Some may be aware of the dead ladys club in asoiaf, if not: https://joannalannister.tumblr.com/post/162408885186/the-dead-ladies-club

and a lot about that is true, that is important, it isn’t that I don’t agree with the post, a lot of it is absolulty true.

But reading it I noticed that Lyanna is always (not just by https://joannalannister.tumblr.com/ mentioned first) and that just makes no sense to me. Honestly I’d put the unnamed princess of Dorne first, because all the other Ladys have at least something and she doesn’t even get a name.

But on Lyanna Stark:

The only POV that actually knew Lyanna we have is Ned Stark. There are other people alive who knew her, but not like her own brother and we don’t get POVs of course.

And Ned does not like to talk or even think about his family members, understandable it causes him pain to think of them. But from all his dead family members Lyanna is actually the one we know the most of in terms of personalitly. There are 2 dead women and 2 dead men in his family and Lyanna Stark is the one we actually have knowledge about her character from her brother. To cover the other first: Ned does not talk about his mother, she is dead and that is it. (good fit for the dead ladys club, even if I think that there is no neccessity for her to get more pages). She died sometime between Benjens birth and the War of the 5 Kings, the exact moment isn’t known, but considering that Ned’s children and Cat don’t know her I’d say she died before Cat and Neds wedding 283AC (so Ned would’ve been just 20 years old, too young to loose both parents without it leaving deep wounds). And information about her is purely context information. Then there is Rickard Stark. We know his story (prelude to Roberts Rebellion) but the only character information we have can be based on his reaction to his dauhter getting abducted and his son imprisoned which was ...normal? Like what are supposed to do but go and get them back, that does say he cares like a normal person about his family (considering the Starks in general are one of the more functioning familys in Westeros not something surprising). Then we have Brandon Stark. Who we have 2 POVs about, counting Cat who actually knew him in. Who we actually have some information on. Because Ned talks about him and Lyanna to Arya, mostly it not being a good idea to be so hot-blooded and having wolf-.blood (which Ned considers the thing that led to their early graves, hey Ned isn’t perfect when it comes to sexism either ok). We know about his looks from Cat and Barbrey and about his personatlity aswell, a lot of it actually coming from Barbrey who isn’t even a POV character. And what we know isn’t that positiv, which I take part of his wolf-blood personality trait. (See fucking Barbrey, demanding the head of the crown prince.) The postiv things we know about him are the typical Stark traits about making things fair, right and honest, something at core all Starks share (making the fight against Littlefinger fair, offering him to yield, going to save his sister): But most of the information we have on him are from 1.Background information about what happend (Lyanna, his death, etc.), so just the storytelling. 2.From Cat who knew him for w short while. 3. From Barbrey who hooked up with him and was in love with him (still is). We nearly get nothing from Ned about him. Because Ned doesn’t like to think about his dead family members, he remarks that he wanted none of what he has (Cat, Winterfell, Hand of the King, Brother in Law of the King) because he never wanted his brother dead of course. And lastly Lyanna: Lyanna is the dead family member Ned thinks about the most. Which is why we have the most information about her from all his dead family members. He’s the only POV who actually knew her and we get so much more from him about her than about his brother, father of mother. She is in his mind so often, probably because she is his little sister and he was there when she died. People who didn’t know her always talk about her beauty (especially Robert). But those who knew her always mention that she was wild, she is often described to have a resemblance to Arya in character, more rebellious. Ned states that if Lyanna had been allowed to carry a sword she’d have done it,she had a strong will, that she was beautiful but “he had “iron underneath” and it’s multiple times stated that she loved to ride (getting called half a horse herlsef and a centaur) Lyanna knew that Robert was whoring around and didn’t like it, said to and even told Ned that he wasn’t going to change, she attacked men with touney swords when they bullied Howland Reed and is believed to be the Mystery Knight, who deafead the exact 3 men who bullied Howland. We have no knowledge if she knew Howland before that attack, but she defended him because he was her fathers man and she tended to his wounds later. She was a caring person with a strong sense of right and wrong and had no issue opening her mouth about it. She poured wine of Benjens head when he made for of her for crying about the sad song that was being played. She loved flowers and music.

And we needed none of those things for the canon that is currently infolding. Lyanna could’ve been the perfect little lady Robert imagined and it would not have changed a thing of the plot that is happening right now. But she wasn’t. Like both her nieces she wasn’t a picture perfect lady the men wanted her to be and we know that from context. And yes she died. She was 16, she got a fever, she (we all know it, even if it’s not in the books yet) gave birth way to young. And yes 16 is too young, even at 16 the body is still developing and not properly equipped to handle childbrith yet. Having children too young is one of the major reasons women die in childbrith in our world. And in her death she sill made Ned promise her something (Jon’s savety), she was strong, maybe her body did give out because she got pregnant at 15 from a man which a family history of stillbirths due to incest and was barely 16 when she gave birth but it doesn’t make her a lesser chacaters. JoannaLannister also mentied that we don’t know what Lyanna felt about what happend from getting the crown of beauty and love to her death and we can’t know that. Because everybody involed is dead.There aren’t any people to ask. The Kings guard members that were involved are dead (Jamie wasn’t there, we have no knowledge abour Barristan being involed), Rhegar is dead (and might not be the best guy to ask anyways) and Lyanna the only person who actually knew what she was thinking is definitly dead. If we know more about the events we’d know too much (aka Jon Snows parentage) for the story to unfold and we don’t have any POVs so far that could give us any insight whatsoever anyways.

Long Story short. I don’t think Lyanna should be part of the Dead Ladys Club, because we have 1 POV character who actually knew her (and in general doesn’t like to think about his dead family members) and we have so much information about her that isn’t just plot related, which is a really gread thing and makes her a well fleshed out character for someone who’s been dead for 14 years at the beginning of the story.

[e-of-the-hat]

Hello, thanks for sharing the Merlin ask game! Here are a couple questions: 7 and 14.

7. Fill in this scenario: Character A gives Character B a thoughtful gift. What's the gift?

Mordred, realising that Merlin doesn't seem to like him that much, gives Merlin a book of druid customs and things he leant about nature/magic as a child.

14. Who would you rather see in another episode? Pick one: Elena, Mithian, or Annis?

Elena, I would love to see an episode of her just besting Arthur and all the round table knights (and knights in general) at jousting/a touney/horseriding/etc.

[l-reeny-l]

When your landscaping project is interfering with the fishing touney ^^'

[leecario]

I’m at stopbutton for an ultimate touney

Me and my partner won our first round but it was against a kid who cried during the set so I’m not feeling so right

[wind-in-the-weirwoods]

Knight-Errant

I’ve somehow gone over the 500 follower mark on this Jonsa sideblog and I’m thankful for every one of you. This community is wholesome as hell and really helps get through the slog of my personal life

To that end, here’s the rough draft of an AU fic I’m working on where Ser Barristan Selmy went North instead of East, looking to escape assassination attempts and serve the realm by exchanging his white cloak for a black one (the irony is not lost on him). The continuity I’m working with is a combination of book and show elements, things that make sense to me personally, and ofc shades of Jonsa (which I believe is canon but we’re not there yet folks) so please don’t think too hard about timelines and contradictions and such

I’ve got about seven chapters in various states of readiness but this is the one I think will most appeal to anybody seeing this post. It’s a fun project to work on and I’ll keep plugging away until it’s ready to be put on AO3 when all is said and done. I want to emphasize that this is a rough draft (I wrote it in about an hour before posting it here after noticing my followers count went over 500 and started yelling) so there are totally some typos and what have you going on

Anyway check it out I hope you enjoy it

A single horn blast rang through the courtyard. Arstan Whitebeard set his mouth in a firm line and stepped outside to watch the gates open. The big, oak doors had just been repaired from the giant’s break-in that morning and creaked open achingly slow.

Arstan stared down at the horses and riders as they entered. It was as an odd a grouping as he’d ever seen – a straw-haired knight in battered armor, a squire in what looked like faded Lannister red, and a tall girl in grey just behind them. They coaxed their horses into the courtyard warily, looking around at the men of the Watch and wildlings that crowded Castle Black.

Snow fell gently but persistently. Old wooden boards creaked beneath Arstan’s boots as Dolorous Edd and Jon Snow joined him on the balcony. They hadn’t expected any wandering crows or supplies caravans. These newcomers didn’t have the look of messengers.

Edd tapped his gloved fingers nervously on the bannister, but Arstan noticed Snow had gone oddly still. His eyes rose to the young man’s face and saw him staring intently at the three arrivals.

Snow shuddered and hurried to the stairs, wordless. Arstan and Edd were just a step behind him, brows furrowed. What was this?

Tormund gaped open-mouthed as the knight dismounted and helped the lady down. They turned to face Snow at the bottom of the stairs and Arstan started – he knew them. That was no knight, but the lady of Tarth. Her skill at arms in touneys had reached him in King’s Landing. Her squire was familiar but he couldn’t place the boy’s face.

The girl in grey was Ned Stark’s daughter. Taller than Arstan had last seen her, but he remembered her from the last weeks of his service at the capital. Arstan felt his face pale and hoped his beard was enough to keep him from being recognized. Surely he would not be found out after all this time?

Arstan’s gaze flickered from the girl and back to Snow, who had paused at the foot of the stairs still as a statue. Stark’s daughter swallowed uneasily, eyes only for Snow. Her bastard half-brother, Arstan realized. The snowflakes whirled gently between them.

Stark’s daughter – what was her name? – hesitantly stepped forward, timid. Snow mirrored her, arms loose at his sides. Then she lurched forward, mouth opening into a wordless cry. Snow rushed ahead and she leapt into his arms as they embraced.

They stood there, reunited. Arstan numbly thought that Snow hadn’t have expected to see his family again since joining the Watch; what misfortunate had brought the Stark girl here? They still stood there before the befuddled onlookers, quietly rejoicing. The lady of Tarth bowed her head in relief. Tormund was still gawking at the her in her armor.

After a long moment the two Starklings broke their embrace. Snow shouted for firewood and blankets; Edd waved at the gatekeeper to close the doors. Ser Davos ran over from across the courtyard, arms beckoning in question.

Arstan followed them back up the stairs but stopped outside the hall to give them some privacy. What had just happened?

***

He didn’t find out until the next morning when they broke their fast. Snow and Stark’s daughter gathered at a table in the mess hall with Edd, Davos, Tormund, and Brienne, the lady of Tarth. Arstan stood at the doorway as they broke bread and talked.

The tale the Stark girl – Sansa, her name was – told was hard to hear. She did not linger on the abuse she’d suffered from Lannisters and Boltons and Littlefinger but Arstan noticed Snow’s shoulders tighten. She’d won her freedom with the help of a dead man, and Brienne led her safely here.

Someone knocked hurriedly at the door. Arstan turned unbidden and opened it, a hand passively resting at the hilt of his sword. One of the stewards waited outside in the cold, scroll in hand. Outside a grim-faced Bolton man waited patiently on a dark horse.

Arstan’s face was a mask as he took the scroll, nodded to the steward, then shut the door and crossed the room.

“Letter for you, Lord Commander,” Arstan murmured. Snow turned, sighed, and accepted the scroll with a pink wax seal. Sansa’s mountain lake-blue eyes lingered on Arstan’s face before turning down to the message.

“I’m not Lord Commander anymore.”

Arstan stepped back to resume his watch near the doorway. Snow broke the seal and looked the letter over silently.

Sansa’s eyes flickered up at Arstan again and returned to Snow. The old knight felt his blood run cold. Snow snatched the message up roughly and bowed his head, breathing deeply.

“To the traitor and bastard Jon Snow. You allowed thousands of wildlings past the Wall. You have betrayed your own kind. You have betrayed the North. Winterfell is mine, bastard.” Snow paused, breathed, and read again. “Come and see. Your brother Rickon is in my dungeon.”

At that Snow started. His eyes lifted to meet his half-sister’s and he continued, “His direwolf’s skin is on my floor. Come and see. I want my bride back.” Snow did not change his tone. “Send her to me, bastard, and I will not trouble you or your wildling lovers. Keep her from me and I will ride north and slaughter every wildling man, woman, and babe living under your protection.”

Tormund grunted and shifted his weight, staring down at Snow to gauge his reaction. “You will watch as I skin them living.” Snow scanned the next line, began to read it, and stopped, staring at his half-sister. Sansa stared back at her half-brother and reached across the table steadily, taking the letter for herself.

She began to read. “You will watch as my soldiers take turns raping your sister. You will watch as my dogs devour your wild little brother. Then I will spoon your eyes from their sockets and let my dogs do the rest. Come and see.

“Ramsay Bolton, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North.”

The table broke out in discussion. They spoke all at once about the Bolton bastard’s succession, how many fighters the wildlings had, and whether any of the surviving Stark bannermen remembered their oaths. Whether the message even spoke truly.

Sansa’s hand shot across the table and seized Snow’s, pulling him towards her inexorably. Snow froze, eyes wide. Arstan himself was taken aback by the gesture.

Her tone was steely as her eyes pierced into Snow’s. “You’re the son of the last true Warden of the North. Northern families are loyal.” Her knuckles whitened around Snow’s fist. “They’ll fight for you if you ask.” She breathed quickly, licking her lips, and she continued to implore him. “A monster has taken our home and our brother. We have to go back to Winterfell and save them both.”

Snow still sat hunched over the table, eyes the size of dinner plates. He nodded.

Sansa did not let go of his hand as she turned to Tormund. “You’ll help us?”

The big wildling scoffed in response, eyes burning. Ser Davos and Brienne were spoken for. Edd sat on the bench alone, defeated. He had no dog in this fight. The Watch took no part.

Sansa looked up over Snow’s shoulder, eyes searching for Arstan. He frowned, throat dry.

“Will you ride with us, ser?”

Edd jumped and Snow jerked in his seat, eyes questioning.

Sansa surveyed them both in surprise. She hadn’t expected that reaction. “They don’t know?”

Arstan took a moment to respond. His shoulders slumped, and he answered in a low voice, “They don’t, my lady. I left that all behind me.”

“I remember you,” Sansa said slowly, gently, “when you were dismissed.” Her stern face turned to a small frown. “They were awful to you. I’m sorry I said nothing against it.”

It was an ugly memory. He didn’t remember her standing amongst the courtiers before storming out, but the girl spoke truly. “It wasn’t your place to defend me, my lady.”

“I should have still done something. Have you taken your oaths truly?”

Snow’s eyes danced back and forth in thought. Edd interrupted them, “Arstan swore his service to the Night’s Watch, same as me. But not as a knight. You’re anointed?”

“I was shamed,” Arstan answered quietly, “and a wanted fugitive. I didn’t want goldcloaks or knives in the dark bothering the Watch.”

Snow entered the conversation. “Arstan swore to serve the watch. If you’re not Arstan then who are you, truly, ser?”

The old knight thought hard, memory reaching back days and months and across the years. There lay Snow in a drift, ruby-red blood fallen and pooling where he’d found him. Ruby-red blood spattered on his breastplate from dragging Robert away from the dying boar. Loose rubies in the bubbling Red Ford around the ruin of a prince he’d sworn to protect. A white cloak and silver sword thrown down in anguish and fury before the Iron Throne, the same spot where an atrocity in ruby-red cloaks had been offered.

He’d failed before. He wouldn’t fail again. Robert and Rhaegar and the children were gone, there was no saving them. But here was his saving. A knight was nothing without a lord to serve, and any man would have loved to serve Lord Stark. The blood rushed back into his face and he felt hot despite the cold outside. Lord Stark’s children needed a knight to serve them.

He knelt and they stood, Sansa walking around the table and bewildered Edd and Tormund. He bowed his head and spoke confidently, earnestly.

“I am Ser Barristan of House Selmy, formerly of the Kingsguard.” Someone muttered Barristan the Bold in shock and he ignored it. “Dismissed by King Joffrey Baratheon, fugitive of his justice.”

Barristan looked up at the Starklings. Sansa was graceful, eyes dancing. Snow was dark, still processing the revelation. Barristan unsheathed his sword and offered it hilt-first. Snow took it uneasily and Barristan thought of the same trepidation Rhaegar had worn when he’d first sworn his service. He said the same words again.

“Lady Sansa,” he began, then added gently, “Lord Snow, I offer you my service. I will shield your backs and keep your counsel and give my life for yours, if need be. I swear it by the old gods and the new.”

Snow was hesitant and unsure. He’d never been taught the words. Sansa spoke surely, “And I vow that you will always have a place by my hearth and mead at my table.” Her mouth set in a hard, thin line. “And I pledge to ask no service of you that might bring you dishonor. I swear it by the old gods and the new.” She turned to Snow and beckoned him forward. He returned the sword and grasped the knight’s forearm, lifting him to his feet

“Arise, Ser Barristan. We welcome your service.”