hislcrdreyne

[hislcrdreyne]

🎬

[hislcrdreyne]

Michael Fassbender / Prometheus

[hislcrdreyne]

[hislcrdreyne]

[hislcrdreyne]

[hislcrdreyne]

Wanna re-write our story? No problem!

Role-playing can become quite tedious at times. You have all the inspiration in the beginning & suddenly the muses have an established relationship and all we write is the same, or nearly the same stuff over and over. I don’t mind. But others might lose muse over it. They crave variety. If you ever want to just drop an already existing relationship, re-write a period or an entire story of our muses’ lives, feel that it would help your creativity— I’M OKAY WITH IT!

And if we wrote 5 different scenarios that were all born from 1 mutual plot we started a year ago- It’s different experiences. And that allows our muses to experience all kinds of emotions and grow. Maybe one story ended badly and it left you without any ambition to continue and yet you liked the general storyline but didn’t foretell it might end that bad. NO PROBLEM! We will simply re-write it. I am a-okay with it. We don’t have to stick to lame stories, threads that bore us…

…let’s re-write our story!

[hislcrdreyne]

[hislcrdreyne]

@lastxdragon

when daenerys’ army emerges from beneath the rock, interrupting the prisoner’s prayers, the lannister forces inside the castle are easily swept up in the raging tides of unsullied. apparently jaime hadn’t told them his plan called for them all being slaughtered so the ironborn might have a chance to destroy the dragon queen’s fleet. it’s all so obvious by the ease the castle is overthrown with, along with the sight out the barred window of his cell; ships with black sails burning, casting ashes to the wind.

where does that leave him? rorric paces anxiously in his cell once the fighting stops. decisions need to be made, war doesn’t take prisoners and he’s a traitor to a cause that was never his own. a deserter of the lannister army, condemned to hang in the morning because he didn’t want to die fighting their wars any longer. a noble act to be sure, but a treacherous one that he would make again. betraying half his lineage was worth backing a different ruler’s claim, for the good of the realm.

he waits alone with his thoughts, wondering if this is a sign of answered prayers from his mysterious god of death, the stranger. seconds crawl by and each feels like an eternity, but they continue and soon minutes have passed, the anticipation is swelling and surging within him. if only he believed in luck and mercy, he could hope for the targaryen queen’s audience. since he cannot bring himself to, he’ll demand it instead.

the redhead retrieves the bowl they’ve been feeding him in and begins banging it against the bars of his cell. “over here!” he shouts, trying to draw any sort of attention his way from daenerys’ forces. “i’m a prisoner of the lannisters, i demand an audience with the queen! consider it a last request.”

[hislcrdreyne]

[hislcrdreyne]

i’ll get to any plotting or starters i owe sometime this weekend.

[hislcrdreyne]

a few favorites from The Swim Reaper

[hislcrdreyne]

natural // imagine dragons

[hislcrdreyne]

watchre·:

@hislcrdreyne

❛  I can feel the weight of the world. ❜      heavy. hopeless.     across the seven kingdoms, widows weep for their dead husbands, and orphans their dead fathers.    war  had  stripped  the  land,  leaving it desolate and dark;   a tomb for fallen lords,  kings,  knights,  even women and children.   wearing a crown had lessened the load none upon jon’s head,   burden only growing heavier with each passing day.   he turns to the man at his side, who has certainly wielded a sword and knows what it means to watch the light go out of a man’s eyes.   ❛ my father always promised winter would come …  yet now i wonder if it will ever end.  ❜  

lyric sc.       /       ZAYDE WOLF: king

“then you must be doing it right.” the damage done by the wars of powerful men does not escape him, nor does he blame jon for being part of them. rorric firmly believes that jon can be a great king, he’s already a good one, but he is a young king. someone his age is often near sighted and must look further to the future. “of course it will. for every beginning there is an end, and no matter how long it lasts...winter will end. as long as you can keep the people united, they will survive this winter like all others. you have to believe there's an end. make them believe it.”

[hislcrdreyne]

[hislcrdreyne]

hislcrdreyne·:

hislcrdreyne·:

plotting call

click the heart if you want to get something going plot-wise.

[hislcrdreyne]

Michael Fassbender for by John Russo for Vanity Fair Italia, January 2017.

[hislcrdreyne]

tofeelthecold‌:

Meereen had been a place that she wanted to keep as a free city. Daenerys wanted all the cities to be free cities and to abolish slavery in all its forms that festered and thrived on this side of the narrow sea. Slaver’s Bay was well known but she was trying to change it. What she had expected was the push back of those that resided in the city. It had been on the council of those she trusted that she reopened the pits even if she thought them cruel and barbaric.

Dany had made a show of attending because she wanted to show her support of this form of entertainment. It was another gesture that her councilors thought would show her interest in making the cities better without taking everything that they enjoyed away. She didn’t like this, the senseless death that was for nothing more than a few moments of glory and fame for the winner.

She watched though, her violet eyes on every movement as she spoke with Tyrion, Missandei, and the others that were with her. There was a variety of people that participated but the lithe figure of a red-haired man that was part of the current participants that caught her eye. Unlike the foes he was up against there was something different about him and she wasn’t sure what but there was. Watching him fight he was different, it seemed as if he was using others to his advantage, to keep himself alive. That was admirable and her eyes watched the movements.

When the tiger was released into the pit she gasped and was about to halt the fighting but then she saw him battle against the great cat. He moved like a man who had done this before and his blades were true and at the end of it all he was the last alive. That was something admirable and she wanted to learn more about the red-haired man. He had skills that could be valuable in times a war and she had to wonder if he was a free man or one of the slaves that lived outside of the walls and reach of her laws in Meereen.

“Ser! You have won a magnificent victory!” she called, standing and moving to the end of the platform that she was seated at. If Grey Worm and the rest of her guard and companions would allowed it she would have gone down to speak to him but she doubted they would. So she waited, watching his kneeling form and wondering if he was alright.

Emerald eyes raise at the sound of a voice, and he sees his master urgently flailing his arms and gesturing as if hefting something up, but he understands it’s his own signal to rise to his feet. With fingers still wrapped tightly around the hilt of his sword, he presses it to the ground, pushing himself up to stand tall as he approaches the Queen’s platform. He realizes it’s her voice that pulled him from his place in the dirt, giving him the strength to approach. Once he gets close enough he tucks the sword into his belt so that it sits against his waist and he doesn’t cause offense by being armed so close to royalty.

He scans the platform and when his eyes catch the sight of a blond dwarf he must look entirely dumbfounded to find Tyrion Lannister here. There’s hesitation on his tongue. It isn’t his place to ask a lord of his business, and so he pushes it aside before bowing his head, lest he forget his position. “I thank you for the congratulations, your Grace, however I am no knight and so I fear your praises are wasted on the likes of me. Don’t get the wrong impression, I’d love to become one some day...but a slave is not his own man, let alone a knight. In which case I’d like to apologize if the entertainment I provided was inadequate for you or any of your party.”

Rorric had won his own life and still he apologized for it. His master had taught him well, yet only because the red-haired man had locked away his pride. He could play the part of slave rather well if his life and eventual goals depended on it. That didn’t mean he wasn’t a man of opportunity, and any chance to have these chains of servitude cut, was worth fighting and risking his life for. Even if it was entertainment to most.