๐‘Œ๐‘‚๐‘ˆ ๐‘Š๐ผ๐‘ ๐‘‚๐‘… ๐‘Œ๐‘‚๐‘ˆ ๐ท๐ผ๐ธ (Game Of Thrones RP)

For roleplayers who want to write longer detailed posts using advanced language and grammar. Anyone can create a topic here, but joining these RPs is by application-only so that RP owners can control the literacy level they're comfortable with. All content must remain child-friendly at all times.
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๐‘Œ๐‘‚๐‘ˆ ๐‘Š๐ผ๐‘ ๐‘‚๐‘… ๐‘Œ๐‘‚๐‘ˆ ๐ท๐ผ๐ธ (Game Of Thrones RP)

Postby quitting pls delete » Sun Oct 31, 2021 4:56 am

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            Twenty years ago, the Lannisters took the Iron Throne by
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๐‘Œ๐‘‚๐‘ˆ ๐‘Š๐ผ๐‘ ๐‘‚๐‘… ๐‘Œ๐‘‚๐‘ˆ ๐ท๐ผ๐ธ (Rules)

Postby quitting pls delete » Sun Oct 31, 2021 4:56 am

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            Follow all CS rules, first and foremost. You can have as
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๐‘Œ๐‘‚๐‘ˆ ๐‘Š๐ผ๐‘ ๐‘‚๐‘… ๐‘Œ๐‘‚๐‘ˆ ๐ท๐ผ๐ธ (Allegiances)

Postby quitting pls delete » Sun Oct 31, 2021 4:57 am

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            HOUSE TARGARYEN
            โ—‹ Daenaera Targaryen (Honeycomb)
            โ—‹ Saenyx Waters (Radio.Active)

            HOUSE LANNISTER
            โ—‹ Edwin Lannister (Woodland)
            โ—‹ Reserved for kitsune.
            โ—‹ Nikolai Lannister (Baenerys)

            HOUSE BARATHEON
            โ—‹ Silas Baratheon (Baenerys)

            HOUSE MARTELL
            โ—‹ Corbus Martell (Vampirique)

            ๏ปฟHOUSE TYRELL
            โ—‹ Orpheus Tyrell (Radio.Active)

            HOUSE GREYJOY
            Here

            HOUSE STARK
            Here

            HOUSE BOLTON
            โ—‹ Salezare Bolton (Radio.Active)

            HOUSE MORMONT
            โ—‹ Ursa Mormont (Woodland)

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            โ—‹ Delphi Clegane (Vampirique)

            HOUSE TULLY
            โ—‹ Cressida Tully (Baenerys)

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            HOUSE ARRYN
            โ—‹ Demelza Arryn (Baenerys)

            HOUSE BAELISH
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๐‘Œ๐‘‚๐‘ˆ ๐‘Š๐ผ๐‘ ๐‘‚๐‘… ๐‘Œ๐‘‚๐‘ˆ ๐ท๐ผ๐ธ (Staus)

Postby quitting pls delete » Sun Oct 31, 2021 4:57 am

๐Ž๐๐„๐ / ๐‚๐‹๐Ž๐’๐„๐ƒ
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001

Postby quitting pls delete » Thu Nov 04, 2021 11:17 am

    ๐ถ๐‘‚๐‘…๐ต๐‘ˆ๐‘† ๐‘€๐ด๐‘…๐‘‡๐ธ๐ฟ๐ฟ
    head of house martell // located: the eyrie // tagged: demelza (mentioned)

      Corbus paces about the High Hall, attempting to calm his nerves. Guards watch him warily, their hands gripping their weapons in poorly disguised distrust. The Dornish prince hasn't been here in ages; not since his doomed betrothal. The old castle remains unchanged; the walls are still that calming blue-veined white marble and it remains fitted with rows of slim fluted pillars and a blue silk carpet. It truly is a beautiful residence; no wonder the Eyrie is regarded with such high respects. Not only is the castle's defensive position unmatched, so is its quiet beauty and sense of history. The only thing that has changed, as far as Corbus can tell, is the number of inhabitants. It is no secret that House Arryn has been plagued by mysterious deaths over the last several years. All possible heirs, except for one, have met their ends under...odd circumstances. Corbus finds himself about to meet with that one surviving heir; his ex-fiancรฉe Demelza Arryn. If the prince had any other choice, he would be back in Dorne, soaking up the sun and eating the recently ripened fruit. However, there are important matters to be discussed, and Corbus has no other option than to meet with the Lady of the Vale.

      War is on the horizon. The entirety of Westeros knows it, though there are still some that deny such a claim, instead choosing to continue on in ignorance. House Martell has long kept its true allegiance to the Targaryen's a secret; voicing such sentiments had gotten Corbus' father killed during the rebellion and left the then sixteen year old prince unexpectedly thrusted into a position of leadership. Since then, Corbus has worked hard to gain the trust of the Lannisters. Whether or not he has been successful cannot be determined; the Lannisters are a shady bunch at the best of times. The best the Dornish ruler can do is hope; hope that his silver tongue and expertly woven lies have tricked the Lannisters into a false sense of security. Then again, all that work may not matter soon, if the rumors of a Targaryen heir are true. Corbus still has not decided what will be done in the event of another war; the matter is hardly black and white. While the Targaryens could easily reclaim their throne, the Lannisters could defend their stolen power just as easily. Picking the wrong side could mean the destruction of everything Corbus loves; his family, his people, his beautiful Dorne. Jumping into a decision without careful consideration is out of the question.
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demelza // 001

Postby baenerys » Fri Nov 05, 2021 12:19 pm

x
    โ†ชโ†ช ๐ƒ ๐„ ๐Œ ๐„ ๐‹ ๐™ ๐€
      xxxlady paramount of the vale // mentions: n/a // tags: corbus
      xxxIt was rare to have a visitor in the Eyrie; even more so for such a visitor to be from somewhere as far away as Dorne. Since she had returned home to claim the Vale as her own, the gradual decline of the Arryn household inhabitants meant that the keep was quiet and peaceful more often than not. The friends of her siblings no longer came to visit, and she herself seldom left the Vale - the nobility of Westeros were nothing more than a pack of wolves at each other's throats, and she had no interest in the politics of it all. She was comfortable in her life as Lady Paramount; she looked after the Vale, its people and its land, one as hard and coarse as the other. Her time was filled with those duties - and some days, she painted scenes of the valley below, or practiced her old water dancing forms. Beyond that, Demelza Arryn lived a quiet life, free from the complications of other human beings and the inevitable disappointment that they would bring.
      xxxThe arrival of Corbus Martell was not a particularly welcome one. She did not rush to meet him; though she had received a raven a few days prior announcing that he'd be due to arrive on her doorstep, she made no fuss to look about him. Instead, she watched from her high chamber's balcony as his horse thundered up the last stretch to the Eyrie. Her handmaiden twittered about the Prince's arrival as Demelza swept through her chamber, smoothing her blue silk skirts and ensuring that her tightly-woven hairdo was perfectly placed. To the outside world, the Lady of the Eyrie was a well-presented, pleasant, but quiet woman; of course, a neat facade.
      xxxAfter she deemed it a suitably long while for Corbus Martell to have waited for her, Demelza glided along corridors and down stairways until her footsteps echoed in the vast expanse of the great hall upon the raised dais. After silently settling herself onto her high chair, the lady looked up and pursed her lips in mild distaste at the sight of the man before her. A man indeed, not the scrawny boy that had stood on that exact same tile all those years ago, seeking her hand in marriage.
      xxxAnother noble would have greeted somebody of such high social standing with a curtsy and pretty words, but Demelza was not the type; instead, she tilted her head and arched a brow. "What brings you to the Vale?" she said, her voice loud and clear in the echoing hall, "Gods - is it our anniversary? Did you return after twenty years to reminisce?"
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002

Postby quitting pls delete » Fri Nov 05, 2021 1:15 pm

    ๐ถ๐‘‚๐‘…๐ต๐‘ˆ๐‘† ๐‘€๐ด๐‘…๐‘‡๐ธ๐ฟ๐ฟ
    head of house martell // located: the eyrie // tagged: demelza

      Corbus gazes upon the woman, keeping his posture straight and his jaw tightened. He had dressed himself in his finest clothing for this occasion and, while he keeps telling himself it is for decorum, in truth he wants to look good for her. The fabrics are varying shades of orange and yellow, adorned with embroidery depicting sharp-fanged vipers along the collar and sleeves. His beard has been freshly trimmed and an impressive blade hangs from the hilt at his waist. Those feelings, which bloomed all those years ago, still haven't entirely faded twenty years later. Demelza was supposed to be his princess; the mother of his children. Gods be willing, after this visit, that situation will be amended. He hasn't seen her in nearly two decades yet she is just as lovely as the first day he saw her. Calm and collected as ever, she almost resembles a statue, albeit far softer draped in her fine fabrics. What a princess she would have made! He clears his throat, doing his best to regain his composure. "I'm afraid not, my lady." His voice is pleasant and clear, echoing loudly off the walls. He has plenty of experience with public speaking that, when combined with his naturally extroverted personality, gives him an aura of confidence.

      "I'm sure you have heard the rumors circulating throughout Westeros in recent months." Corbus takes a small step forward and he notices the guards tense in the corner of his eye. Let them try attacking him; they cannot compete with a Dornish warrior. "Stories tell of silver-haired westerners astride mighty, fire-breathing beasts. While I would typicaly ignore such stories, the prevalence of them lead me to believe they speak the truth. If this is the case, war could be on the horizon, and I believe an alliance between our houses could be greatly beneficial." The prince meets her gaze, eyes unwavering. She will not listen to him if he shows any hesitation. Gods, the chances of her taking up his offer are already astoundingly low. "I know you rejected my proposal all those years ago. However, I would hate for you to lose what you have fought so hard to gain." He knows she had something to do with her siblings' deaths; all of Westeros knows it. There is no point in dancing around that fact. "I'm here to once again ask for your hand. If you accept, you will maintain control of the Eyrie. I will not take it from you. You will also become the crown princess of Dorne and mother to the future heir. In the event of war, Dorne's soldiers are yours to command." With his guidance, of course, but that is a given.
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demelza // 002

Postby baenerys » Sat Nov 06, 2021 2:28 am

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    โ†ชโ†ช ๐ƒ ๐„ ๐Œ ๐„ ๐‹ ๐™ ๐€
      xxxlady paramount of the vale // mentions: n/a // tags: corbus
      xxxShe observed the Prince from her high perch. It was evident that he had dressed in his best clothes, finely embroidered with tiny vipers baring their fangs, and he was well-presented, neat and tidy, prim and proper. Time had been kind to him; the man that stood before her was both alike and unalike to the boy she had known as a teenager. Still the same kind eyes, though darker, wiser. She had not trusted him twenty years ago, and she was not about to trust him now, not as he stood in her home with a blade at his hip and a lack of specific reason for his presence.
      xxxThe tightening of his jaw brought the smallest hint of a smirk to curl over her lips. Still, he continued to speak in confidence, taking a step forward that caused her guards to step forward too in front of her. She raised a hand in dismissal; her Braavosi blade leaned at the leg of her chair, and. He always did have a way of speaking that made people want to listen. Demelza kept her mouth in a tight, straight line, and blinked mildly at the mention of Targaryens. Of course, she had heard the rumours, whispers through the Saltpans ships that docked by the Vale. Whispers of dragons did not stay secret for long. Her expression hardened further still at the notion of alliance. Since she became Lady Paramount, she had not nurtured any relationships with the other great houses, preferring to keep to the confines of the Vale and her closest neighbours in the Riverlands. Frankly, she had no interest in the fools and flatterers that were the nobility of Westeros. Was Corbus Martell a fool, a flatterer, or something far worse?
      xxxHe continued on, without hesitation. Under her stony gaze, he did not falter or quake as lesser men did. Proposal. Despite the surprising statement, Demelza maintained her cold expression, merely letting an eyebrow arch ever-so-slightly. What you have fought so hard to gain. At that, she promptly frowned. Most people in Westeros pitied poor Demelza Arryn; cursed from birth, a plague of misfortune following her family. Nobody but the people in this very keep truly knew what all had transpired since Corbus Martellโ€™s last visit two decades ago, but she could see it in his eyes and hear it in his tone of voice that he at least suspected something to be amiss.
      xxxโ€I should like to hope that you would not take the Eyrie from me. It is my birthright.โ€ At that, she stood up and dismissed her guards from the room entirely. They hesitated for the moment, shooting dagger glares at the stranger before brushing past him and heading for the doors. When they were alone, Demelza spoke again, poison on her tongue. โ€œWhat do I care for Dorne, a desolate desert a hundred leagues away? My heart belongs to the Vale. I was born here and I will die here. What use are Dornish warriors on the other side of the continent when the dragons or the lions come?โ€ She had stepped down from the dais as she spoke, and now, scarcely an armโ€™s length divided them. Her cold blue eyes pierced him. โ€œYou asked me once before for my hand in marriage, and my father answered on my behalf. So, I shall give you my answer now. I will not marry you, Corbus Martell, because such a marriage would be a political move for power, and nothing more.โ€ Her eyes softened, just ever so slightly, but her words were still sharp as steel. โ€œAnd we deserve to be loved.โ€
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003

Postby quitting pls delete » Sat Nov 06, 2021 10:31 am

    ๐ถ๐‘‚๐‘…๐ต๐‘ˆ๐‘† ๐‘€๐ด๐‘…๐‘‡๐ธ๐ฟ๐ฟ
    head of house martell // located: the eyrie // tagged: demelza

      Corbus nods, a sadness shining in his dark eyes. It is the answer he expected; knowing it was coming does not make it hurt any less. Still, he knows showing such weakness will only make him appear more pathetic, so he forces his facial features to remain neutral. He takes another step towards her, closing the distance between the two. He hopes she does not see it as a threat. If he is to fall by any woman, Demelza Arryn would be the one. "I know you don't love me; you never have. I don't hold that against you. Just know that my feelings for you have not wavered in all these years. I ask for your hand not just for political gain; I ask for your hand because I genuinely cannot think of a finer wife." His words, which some would believe to be flattery, are truthful. "I have held off marrying in hopes that you would change your mind. While duty will force me to eventually take another as my bride, I mourn for whomever that is, for I know my heart will not solely belong to her." He sighs, shaking his head.

      Corbus reaches into his pocket, fishing around for a moment before pulling out a silver ring. The piece of metal is beautifully crafted, clearly a labor of time and love by some Dornish craftsman. It is adorned with a falcon, the sigil of her house, the phases of the moon carved into the band. The inner band has House Arryn's words, As High As Honor, written on it. "I had this made for you. It is yours regardless of your answer, though I had hoped it would serve as an engagement ring." He gently takes her hand, placing the ring in her palm. He curls his fingers around hers, closing her palm before taking a step back. "If you ever need me, all you need to do is send a raven. While you have turned down an official alliance, you will always have a friend in House Martell. Now is not the time to be making enemies, after all, and we should hold fast to good relations as best we can. Should the lions come, Dorne will aid you." The prince bows his head slightly as a sign of respect. His pride has been wounded, yes, but that is no reason to treat the woman any less kindly.
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โš˜ URSA (post no. 1)

Postby woodland » Mon Nov 08, 2021 2:44 pm

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โš˜
    โš˜ ๏ผต๏ผฒ๏ผณ๏ผก ๏ผญ๏ผฏ๏ผฒ๏ผญ๏ผฏ๏ผฎ๏ผด
      ๏ผฌ๏ผฏ๏ผฃ๏ผก๏ผด๏ผฉ๏ผฏ๏ผฎ;; casterly rock, delphi's quarters---------๏ผด๏ผก๏ผง๏ผง๏ผฅ๏ผค;; cressida, delphi

      every muscle in her body screamed at her to run home. with all her will-power, she promised to herself that a moment of embarrassment is worthwhile to find opportunities in the future. since her disasterous fail at stealing the heart of a certain wealthy lion, she's tried to forget ever since. she navigated the grand hallways with ease, as much as she had tried to expel her memories of this wretched place, everything was still fresh in her mind. the place was swathed in riches from the floor to ceiling and ursa payed no attention to it, for the most part. she stopped for a moment to clear her mind and ran her hand along some velvety curtains, knowing all too well that the fabric would sell more than two of ursa's dresses. she poked her head out the window for fresh air and collected herself once more. 'only a couple more corners to go' she told herself.

      a sense of relief passed over her as she turned the smooth knob and entered delphiโ€™s guest quarters. at least in this lionโ€™s den, she knew she had a safe space that resided in the company of her two companions. in delpi- a shield. in cressida- a sword to brandish her enemies. "hello my dearests" ursa announced as soon as she entered the threshold. with not a second to spare, "what lovely gowns have you prepared for me today delphi?" ursa had already started to peel her drab grown off her body, giddy for an exchange of finer fabrics. she perched herself on the bed next to cressida watching intently on delphi's selection for her. what of it on this day? pearls on a velvety blue sea? a watery smooth canvas with delphi's exquisite needle work? an airy drape that accentuated her figure? aside from a handful of fine furs and a few gifts here and there, ursa processed few fineries. as it was with people of the north, clothes for even people of her station were often understated to say the least. there was no point in detailed cuts or interesting fabrics if they meant nothing to stand the test of the northern wind. when in the southern kingdoms, ursa made sure to go all out.

      ursa sprung to her feet before delphi held her dress up. like a lover, she embraced the gown like a new infatuation. the maid aided her in fastening the gown on. she gingerly slipped one foot through, "how goes it at riverrun? any new gossip with the two of you?" 'entertain me so that my thoughts don't slip elsewhere'. the maid expertly slipped the sleeves on to her one by one. trained hands laced the fastenings to best fit her body. from the fit, it was clear that ursa was not the owner of the gown. her body was slightly too angular for delphi's elegant mold. the waist was tight, the chest was a little loose, and the hemline ever so short. least to say, delphi had a killer body amongst the three. her proportions were prefect. cress's gowns were always the more comfortable ones to borrow; course they also reminded ursa of other proportions she was lacking. a curious glance at the vanity mirror, ursa was beyond satisfied with the nearly finished outcome. in time she stepped aside and listened to cress's news, allowing the maid to invest her services elsewhere. ursa smoothed a wrinkled bit at the hem of cress's gown.

      when they were all fitted accordingly, ursa whisked the maid out the room, relieving the woman of her duties for at least a few hours. closing the entryway, ursa opened the conversation to a more serious topic. "what news do you all know of a targaryen in the south? whispers reach me at the pace of honey when i'm so far north". ursa quietly sat cressida down on the vanity table, letting her clever fingers work her thick tresses. a couple tucks here and there, twist from time to time. ursa listened with such intent that she forgot that she was absentmindedly working a northern-style. her lips pursed for a moment before gently clawing out the progress to start anew, this time working in the style that best represented the riverlands. "if i'm not mistaken, i also heard whispers of a silver haired ghost? haunting the hills of the stormlands. of course, details get muddled when most of my information is supplied by the merchants at the docks". ursa started on delphi's head, taking note to keep it simple with her: just enough pieces of hair pulled away from the face, but nothing too flashy to detract from her natural beauty. she couldn't help slipping a couple of tiny white blooms after cressida had slipped a bundle of flowers in her hand. she mischievously placed the last bloom ever so slightly off-centered, just in case a brave gentleman were to want to fix delphi's hair. as for herself, she made her hair in a simple coil along her back, adorned with a ribbon that matched the color of her gown.

      peering at the large mirror in the corner, she made a final assessment on herself. the being that looked back at her was as most
      ethereal as she could have made of it. she wanted to be taken seriously on this outing. head high, unbothered by what cruel gossip was in store for her. 'ready?' one of the girls inquired. for a moment, she shrunk on her way towards the door. shaking her head, she grabbed cressida's hand and responded in the most confident tone she could muster: "ready"
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