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"I have come to expect certain standards in my upkeep. One of them being plenty of time, with you." She hears the words back, and knows that only a few short years ago she would have been blown away by them. The woman who valued her privacy, her alone time, more than almost anything in this world. Not much had changed with her, and yet everything was different. She leans into his touch, another thing that would stun her past self to silence, that now felt as natural as breathing. "And you should know by now that it is not a suggestion." Her hand slides over his, the glint of her wedding band catches the light. She had gone for subtlety tonight, rather than excessiveness. Her golden lion was enough of a prize for her, wrapped around her like a cloak. "And if I say room service instead? What then?" She laughs, knowing exactly where that would lead, and it would not lead to her hunger being sated. "No, I kid. We look too good to deprive the world of us, even for a single night. I did see what looked to be a decent enough restaurant, on the way from the airport."
There was never a dull moment with his dear wife--one of the many reasons it was she who had stolen the Lannister away. It took some restraint to hold back a full smile, though one did begin to creep at the corners of his mouth. "Is that so?" He mused, a laugh threatening to rumble from his chest. "So demanding," he sighed playfully, tongue clicking against his teeth in mock scolding. But he would move to slip behind her, large hands moving down the bare expanse of her arms. "Are you suggesting we indulge in dessert before dinner? My my--aren't we gluttonous." As he let himself press against her back, Gerion moved his arms to encircle his wife's waist. A light kiss pressed against a shoulder, another following at the base of her neck, and finally ending just beneath her ear. "It just so happens I am starving. And what kind of husband would I be if I let my wife catch a chill?" His arms gave a firm squeeze, a low laugh being slightly muffled as he nuzzled into those perfectly scented locks he cherished so. "I'll even let you decide the restaurant."
#𝔠𝔞𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩 𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔞𝔨 𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔢 - gysella + gerion lannister#𝔠𝔞𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩 𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔞𝔨 𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔢 - gysella#𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔰𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔫 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔰 - alternate universe#ofdutyx
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"Oh, with." Bloodthirsty in a courtroom and outside of it, there was no use for a meal that didn't have meat for her to sink her teeth into. "A bit cliche, in my opinion. I mean, we know it's cold, we've all had to brave the snow. No need to beat us over the head with a winter menu." Or maybe she was just looking for things to pick at. A ski resort would never be her first pick for the limited vacation days she had, spending more energy trying to keep warm than enjoying herself. But she also wouldn't have picked a vacation with the entire extended family, and half of King's Landing, either. The last thing she wanted to do was run into a client. Or opposition.. "But I doubt there's anything nicer in that village. I suppose it's hard to mess up, isn't it?"
doubtful that the chef or restaurant had been granted five stars, though decor certainly tried painting the image, but so long as the food was decent and the heat remained on then lioness would remain docile. perhaps she'd even do the little restaurant a favor and post a picture or two on her story - if they understood how to aesthetically plate a dish. ❝ with meat or without? ❞ long, manicured nail tapped against the tablecloth as emerald hues scanned over the menu. ❝ some of the soups sound interesting. perhaps as a first course. ❞
#𝔠𝔞𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩 𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔞𝔨 𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔢 - gysella + alicent lannister#𝔠𝔞𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩 𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔞𝔨 𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔢 - gysella#steelfyre#𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔰𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔫 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔰 - alternate universe
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"I think I went past charming a while back." He muttered. All he wanted was to be able to set traditions that his kids would look back on, something he'd missed. Make the holidays something magical, like out of the movies. This was less movie magic, and more tragic. "I think that's a far better idea." He laughed, sliding the monstrosity he had been working on into a bin and grabbing one of the disks. He wasn't an artist by any stretch of the imagination, but maybe he'd have better luck. With a paintbrush in hand, he almost instinctively started on the design he knew better than the back of his own hand, the Tully Inc. symbol, the trout something he could identify blind. "After this, I think my expectation of gingerbread houses has come back to earth. Who knew all of this was so hard? At this rate, I'm thinking of telling my kids Christmas isn't celebrated in the Riverlands." He didn't look up from the disk, tongue pinned between his teeth as he concentrated, but even then he couldn't stop his gossip-mongering self from prodding. "So, we've been here long enough that surely you've heard something interesting. I keep getting dragged away from anything that even looks like it might be worth listening in on. Have you met anyone interesting?"
doe eyes dart between brother and his creation , not wanting to speak , lest uncertainty seep into her words . arushi attempts a more in - depth look , but gains no insight from it ; this ornament really could be anything . " aren't the handmade ones kinda … supposed to be bad ? that's , like , part of the charm , " she ventures . ' rustic ' would be the word to use with anyone else , but she doesn't want to completely hide the truth of her thoughts from amos . " maybe you can do one of these wooden disks instead . no glue required . " she holds up her own , with a half - painted christmas tree at its center .
#𝔱𝔬 𝔲𝔫𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔡 𝔴𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰 - amos + arushi tully#𝔱𝔬 𝔲𝔫𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔡 𝔴𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰 - amos#𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔰𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔫 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔰 - alternate universe
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[ ✉️ ↣ priya ]: you sound like my father (derogatory) [ ✉️ ↣ priya ]: i mean, you could go full hollywood with it, and cut power to the lodge, commit a brutal and violent murder while everyone's panicking and then feign innocence when the lights come back on? [ ✉️ ↣ priya ]: not that i've thought about doing that. [ ✉️ ↣ priya ]: but you'd also be able to play innocent really well. bat those eyelashes at people and they're in the palm of your hand
𖥻 𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗮𝗴𝗲𝘀. 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘥‚ priya fowler.
[ 💌 → gysella ]: law is law, you're telling me you're only good at one thing ?? such a disappointment [ 💌 → gysella ]: definitely an entirely hypothetical situation - no witnesses seems like something i would have already accounted for, would seem like bad optics for character witnesses [ 💌 → gysella ]: but if it's so common, wouldn't people catch on to that rather quickly ...
#𝔠𝔞𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩 𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔞𝔨 𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔢 - gysella + priya fowler#𝔠𝔞𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩 𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔞𝔨 𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔢 - gysella#𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔰𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔫 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔰 - alternate universe
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[ ✉️ ↣ little fish ]: you better promise then, because with the seven as my witness we're not doing any travel for christmas next year. everyone can come to us. [ ✉️ ↣ little fish ]: can't you spin it like you're down to earth? it's ✨ quirky ✨ [ ✉️ ↣ little fish ]: am I doing that right? [ ✉️ ↣ little fish ]: I've already accepted it'll be a full afternoon of back and forth so your both happy. I'll still take that over another board meeting
[ 📲 king salmon ] : so dramatic [ 📲 king salmon ] : as if i won't visit u and ur beautiful perfect wife and ur gremlin [ 📲 king salmon ] : and fishing can still be our thing !! just on the dl . not much synergy with the brand™️ ya know [ 📲 king salmon ] : ooh yeah good idea . much better than asking a rando [ 📲 king salmon ] : just remember that angles exist !! these are going on the gram so they have to be good
#𝔱𝔬 𝔲𝔫𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔡 𝔴𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰 - amos + arushi tully#𝔱𝔬 𝔲𝔫𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔡 𝔴𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰 - amos#𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔰𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔫 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔰 - alternate universe
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"That's an option, too." She can't say that she's never taken advantage of the return policy, or reading during work so she's technically not taking the book home, or sneaking a few titles upstairs to her apartment to pass the time, but that felt like one of the only perks to her job, and she was more than happy to share with fellow readers. "I haven't, but I've seen a lot of reviews. Seems like it's really snappy and fast paced, and I'll never turn down a story with dragons." Her own writing crossed the genre barriers, from contemporary to fantasy to sci fi, and everything in between, but when she read for pleasure she always came back to fantasy. "A few people I follow on TikTok absolutely love it, and I've generally always loved their recommendations. If you wanted to go a bit lighter but still lean into snappy, there's Assistant to the Villain. Very funny, and an easy read to dip in and out of if you've got lots of plans." Myra pulled it from the shelf. Then, because she couldn't help herself, her hand flicked over to her own book. The printed title held her nickname, rather than the full, and she hoped there was enough distance not to look like she was peddling her own titles, though that's what she was about to do. "Never Trust The Light isn't bad, either. It's a bit dark and sarcastic, but the magic's pretty fleshed out if that's your jam."
doe eyes widened at the suggestion , the thought of buying the books , reading them , and then returning them felt illegal. not to mention the fact that clumsiness held baratheon in a grip , the chance that she wouldn't drop it in the snow , or spill a cup of hot cocoa was slim. dark brown tendrils swept across her back as she shook her head , an apologetic look crossing features. “ i could never , it just feels wrong. “ the idea alone was enough to stress baratheon out. ” i think i would sooner pack them up and ship them back home. ” at least that way there would be tracking , gods forbid the package got lost in transit. iliana followed close behind , listening to all that was being said as she let her gaze fall on the respective sections. “ that's really a wonderful idea. ” there had been more than one occasion she herself had been drawn towards nothing more than the cover of a book and wound up with something , unexpected. not to say she didn't end up enjoying it , but it was nice knowing what you were getting yourself into. gloves were removed , shoved haphazardly into pockets as she browsed the shelves , fingertips running along spines until they stopped on a copy of when the moon hatched. “ I've seen this book everywhere . . . have you read it? ”
#𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔦𝔰 𝔞𝔱 𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔡 - myranda#𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔦𝔰 𝔞𝔱 𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔡 - myranda + iliana baratheon#𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔰𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔫 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔰 - alternate universe#unbowcd
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"Oh, I think I know just the thing." Myra skidded into the back room, pulling out a box and dumping it on the counter with a thud, moving at the speed of light to redeem herself. "They're basically Love Island, but rich kids. Each book's a different couple. Probably more fitting with King's Landing than Winterfell, but it's all snappy dialogue and spice. A little basic for me, but I've rotted my prefrontal cortex with the darkest of dark romance, so, milage may vary."
Face splits into a wide grin, leaning on the desk. "And if I said yes? What then?" She reaches down under the desk, where her own copy laid. The best part of working in a bookshop, having first dibs on everything that came through. "I just finished it. You could borrow my copy, if that curiosity is eating you alive."
"myra, of course i trust you." tyana holds her hands out, palms up, waiting for her friend to take them. "i want to try it out again, but maybe later. i think my head's been too cluttered with all the marketing i had to do. right now, maybe something more . . . snappy? like a . . . reality tv show, but a really good one that keeps me on the edge of my seat." her lips press tight, a hint of shyness crossing her features. “also, i'm not asking because i think it should be here, more so because i'm curious, just . . . is a copy here? a kraken's day?”
#𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔦𝔰 𝔞𝔱 𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔡 - myranda + tyana baratheon#𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔦𝔰 𝔞𝔱 𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔡 - myranda#𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔰𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔫 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔰 - alternate universe
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It's a beautiful lie, but she treasures it anyway. Responsibilities always pulled them apart, threw blocks down their roads, made her swerve at the last second when all she wanted to do was collide into him. It was good. Motivating. She let it power her, let it light a fire that she channeled into her books, romances and daydreams that expanded into books, brought her notoriety in her secluded corner of the internet. Her characters bore many names, many descriptions, but when she really thought about it, it was the same brown eyes she imagined. The same name that sat on the edge of her tongue, just daring to be spoken. What was she waiting for? Nothing, really. Nothing would ever be more perfect in that moment. But she was so scared of disrupting the status quo that it kept her frozen, no matter the weather. "Until some crazed fan comes up to you for an autograph and I have to beat them away with a stick. And I will, believe me." Gods help anyone who thought they might interrupt their time. "I'll have to come to a concert one of these days. Could I be the most annoying and beg for a backstage pass?"
Hold me, Alaric Mormont. Never let me go. There is no way to joke through that, though. No way to play it off. Maybe after one too many of those ciders, she could stumble and pull him towards some of that mistletoe... After all, it's a holiday tradition, and who was she to forsake that? It would be harmless fun, a joke... Except that made her heart hurt. She didn't want stolen moments or played off jokes. She wanted... Everything. "Of course I do. But what do I get the man who is more than capable of getting anything he wants? Everything else falls a bit short to adoring crowds, I'd think. Unless you want the ugly sweater I tried to knit." She knew exactly what she wanted for Christmas, something that couldn't be wrapped with a bow and put under her tree. But this was all getting too serious now, bordered too close on confessions she dreamed about making, and she was a coward at heart, swerving the car towards a safer route. "I got Martyn a bedazzled vape."
ever so often he forgets to breathe whenever she is around. air becomes trivial, and he feels more inclined to chase every if only to be reminded how a lifetime's not enough to marvel upon her. cup taken into his own hands, warmth spreading across his fingers, steam tumbling over darkened surface. he looked forward to this every year, made time for ever single journey to the white covered slopes to see myranda karstark. he had nursed these feelings tumbling within him for what felt like forever, as if another lifetime's worth of emotions spilled over to this one. and no song he's ever penned could define, describe, and expound the yearning he feels for his closest, most dearest friend. he feels a great deal of emotions, the joy of being a friend, of being kept close, of exchanging more than just names and memories, and the desperation to be much more. ❝ we have nothing but time, myra. ❞ and he tried his best not to let the excitement show, for it not to creep into the smile that pulls on his lips. but it dances within him, swings across the strings of his guitar and the blots on the lines of paper for another masterful confession disguised as a song in an album.
she held his gaze, did not allow for him to look elsewhere. they were amidst a crowd, all of whom falling into the background and dwindling into a hazy, color-smudged details in a scene. ❝ well, that's why i'm here. i'll be whatever you need me to be, and hold you... ❞ and he is pulled into a frenzy, heart racing as he feels her hand in his. brought more comfort than anything in this world. alaric allows himself to fall, if not more than he already does, lets himself be taken to wherever she pleased. ❝ accountable... hold you accountable. do you have me in that christmas shopping list of yours, hm ? ❞ his words tumble, later tone teasing to take attention away from the way warmth blooms in his cheeks.
#𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔦𝔰 𝔞𝔱 𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔡 - myranda + alaric mormont#𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔦𝔰 𝔞𝔱 𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔡 - myranda#wcrfcres#𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔰𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔫 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔰 - alternate universe
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"I'll stop worrying when you stop saying concerning shit with no context." She pushes herself up to sit on the counter, legs dangling below her. She kicks her knock-off uggs back and forth, and sits with that for a minute. "I'm not sure I really believe you. But I've got no evidence to the contrary, so I guess it'll have to do. But I'll expect new music the second everyone goes home, then. You'll have no excuse, and I'll have something new to play on the overhead system. The playlist is getting a little stale." She sighs. From this vantage point she can see the display she was meant to straighten up, the shelves she was supposed to restock, a fucking single-use coffee cup sitting on a table. Animals. "Or, we could collect the usual suspects and flee this place like the sky's falling. Go somewhere without celebrities and their fucking people, and the goddamn journalists looking for any sort of scoop."
One tattooed hand slapped against his chest, as if he was shot right through his heart, over-dramatic as ever at being cursed out by his own cousin. One weak huff, and he'd almost doubled over in his act, but managed to hold himself up still. "You're totally getting credit. Myranda Karstark: Lyricist. Sounds pretty fucking metal." Pen paused in cold hand, inhale taken through nose, slow and deep, as if he was trying to delay his answer. He glanced up after a moment with a smile. "I mean... that it's been put on pause, because I can't find a moment's fucking peace at home lately now, can I? I've got a lot of ideas here and there, but I need some downtime to put things together into a proper bloody album. That's all. Stop worryin'."
#𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔦𝔰 𝔞𝔱 𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔡 - myranda + martyn stark#𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔦𝔰 𝔞𝔱 𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔡 - myranda#𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔰𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔫 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔰 - alternate universe#ravasz
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"Every family is their own flavour of fucked." The more she travelled, the more people she met, that fact always remained true. Even the ones that looked perfect from the outside. Perhaps especially true, in those. "Oh, what I wouldn't give to go back and be your friend back then. Imagine the chaos you, me, and a stolen liquor cabinet could have caused." People could call Rhaenys whatever they wanted, as long as they weren't in Gysella's earshot, but she would always call the Castamere dragon a friend. That was a rarer thing than any of the jewels in her case, for someone who didn't play well with others. "And I will drink to that!" Gysella popped the corks on both, passing over the white in exchange for a glass. "Oh, that would piss me off so bad. I certainly hope he's making it up to you at every opportunity. I'd offer to take the kids for a day, but I don't have a lot of wisdom to pass down beyond knots, knife throwing, and tax evasion." She shrugged, filling her glass well beyond the proper amount. "Gerion and I are still firmly in the practicing stage. Though... I wouldn't be upset if something came of it. I would like a little mini-me to unleash upon the world." Her mother had often wished that fate on her, and Gysella could only hope.
❛ or we pretend we're preteens , mix them together and call it rosé , then raid our parents liquor cabinets and refill the bottles with water in hopes that they wouldn't notice . ❜ not that her parents ever did , or if they did then they didn't care . sardonic though the afterthought , rhaenys banished it with an airy chuckle – mostly about the shitty rum . ❛ and why does that not surprise me , gysella ? i suppose one of the perks of growing up in a family like my own , the dysfunction meant that we could steal the good stuff and they'd sooner just replace it than have to actually parent ... and the people wonder why i'm such a bitch . ❜ a smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth as she retrieves two glasses from the cupboard in answer to her quandary . ❛ fortunately for you , you do not yet have children under the age of ten who will be up at the ass - crack of dawn . furthermore , i will have to be the one who deals with that because baris gave the nanny christmas off – so i'll stick to the white , thank you , i'm getting too old to be mixing my colours . ❜ offering the glasses , violet hues observe friend , head canted in a sudden flare of curiosity . ❛ speaking of children , any ideas on when you may be starting a family ? if you want one of course . ❜
#𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔰𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔫 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔰 - alternate universe#𝔠𝔞𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩 𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔞𝔨 𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔢 - gysella + rhaenys targaryen#𝔠𝔞𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩 𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔞𝔨 𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔢 - gysella#vi0light
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closed for @steelfyre
"The restaurant isn't half-bad. Small mercies, I guess." She certainly wasn't one for snow sports, you wouldn't see her skiing any time soon, and even the thought of ice skating made her exhausted. No, she was certainly more accustomed to the fine dining experience, the warmth of heaters and climate controlled rooms. And any excuse to break out one of the dresses she'd insisted on bringing was worth it. "I had a peek at the menu before we even left Casterly Rock, and I've been dreaming about the arancini ever since. What do you think?"
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"I suppose I had too high hopes for it. It's a ski resort all the way in the North, and yet I thought I'd get the same amount of work done as I do in my home office." Foolish, really. Taking a step away from the business at such a turbulent time would likely haunt his dreams for decades to come, but he couldn't turn down the opportunity. "Don't get me wrong, though, I'll be sampling every dish that's served. And it has been a rather long time since I had the opportunity to ski. What about you, coming out to the pistes?" He laughed at that, at the thought of one of his board members calling, to be greeted with Varric instead of himself. He'd pay money to watch that play out, in all honesty. "Maybe they'd give me some relief, if someone put the fear of the Seven in them. This may shock you, but I am not often thought of as an intimidating figure."
“oh, gods, no. nothing is ever toned down, is it? it must always be a show. if i get lost, i'm not sure who to blame either. terrible customer service.” varric loved to be cross, and sharing these spaces with amos, who was also struggling with the internet connection, provided him the perfect chance to stir the pot a little. just because he could, oh, why not? didn't the grinch give christmas back in the end or however the plot goes? “they have a dozen ore-durves …” pronounced incorrectly on purpose, “but not a strong enough speed to load a browser page. it's unbelievable.” he sighs. though it would be nice to continue filling out paperwork for his boss, and check on the installed cameras. what? a man who guards must know what's going on! he levelled his gaze. “no, no, i wouldn't want to break the simulation by answering your calls. what would they think if they heard me snarling?”
#𝔱𝔬 𝔲𝔫𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔡 𝔴𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰 - amos#𝔱𝔬 𝔲𝔫𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔡 𝔴𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰 - amos + varric royce#𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔰 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔤𝔞𝔯𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔯𝔰 - act II#flamedreamt
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closed for @ichorsveined
"Okay, so... I have one for Gerion, one for Rhaenys, one for each of my in laws... I think that's everyone." She had initially sat down at the gingerbread table as a joke, mostly to watch as people attempted and failed to build houses. She had quickly abandoned that idea as she found the little men, decorating each in a simple likeness. She pointed at each with glee. "I've been using gumdrops for the eyes, and that is a rather unsettling effect. Handing these out is gonna be fun. You made anyone?"
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closed for @nob1es
"I could think of some wild story explaining this." Amos limped back from the bar to his seat, hand tight around a whiskey tumbler, a double because he doesn't have any meetings until tomorrow afternoon. Even lightly injured, he cannot help but try to brighten the mood. "But it was that damned lake. I was doing great with the skates, until very suddenly I wasn't, and then I'm on my back looking up at the sky and wondering how that happened. I'm hoping I'm not the first nor the last here to be a little overconfident in my skating abilities."
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closed for @proelium
"So, I won't claim to be the greatest cook in the world. But baking is more science than art and if you can follow a recipe, in theory nothing should ever go wrong." He looked down to the pie, fresh from the oven, steam still rising. He'd spent an almost embarrassing time on it, but when would he ever have such time and resources at his fingers again? "Blueberry. The lattice was a pain to get right, but I think it was worth it. Now, do you think they have ice cream around?"
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closed for @ichorsveined
"This isn't turning out." Amos looked to the ornament in his hand, covered in more glitter than he ever thought he would be, glue drying on his fingers as he tried to hold it in place, but the pieces soon clattered back to the table, leaving him no closer to his goal than he was when he sat at the table. He sighed, hands resting on the table. "I thought it would be a nice tradition to start, handmade ornaments. It looked a lot easier when the kids were doing it. You can't even tell what this is supposed to be."
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