flashes of lannister traits don’t often bring good tidings - at least not anymore. but shireen’d like to think that despite myrcella’s other familial bonds, that despite whatever feelings she herself has about one cersei lannister . . . she can still enjoy the warmth of her cousin’s gaze. “ ‘cella !! ” she calls from her perch at the bar, dark eyes scouting out the world around her now focused on a familiar, friendly face. “ come have a drink with me, won’t you? ” she hasn’t been much for gambling, and if she’s going to dump money into margaery tyrell’s foundation she’d rather get something from it . . . a night of drunken enjoyment that leads to a hangover in the morning was better than losing countless coins at blackjack. “ something fruity, maybe? pink and pretty like a - oh, i’ve got it! ” twisting back in her seat to face the tender behind the bar, shireen holds up two fingers, grinning wildly. “ two french martinis! ” @ofgoldstag
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He didn’t want to be there. In fact, the very last place he wanted to be was mingling with King’s Landing’s elite. How pathetic this whole thing was, so soon after the murder of his mother and they were all pretending like nothing had changed. Just another ordinary evening in King’s Landing, another boy orphaned without a second glance. As he sipped from his complimentary glass of champagne (slowly, he wasn’t willing to give money to anyone or anything that he couldn’t completely trust) - he let his eyes wander the room. Enemies, all of them. Unless someone could prove themselves a friend.
“ robin. ” acknowledgment as shireen swirls the glass in her hand, an eyebrow raised in appraisal; shifting to place her back against a wall. it was strange to see him here, had it been her father murdered she’d likely not show her face in public, ‘less it were to burn everyone to the ground in a fury of vengeance. she doesn’t know kindness well, an alien emotion on the best of days, but she can act through it. traverse it as best as she can. “ you’re very brave to be here, pequeño halcón. ” at the very least, she’s honest, though she doubts it accounts for much now. “ i’m sorry for your loss, as is my father. ”
✦ ▓ AND WHO GOES THERE? oh, it’s just [ SHIREEN BARATHEON ]. some say [ HER ] resemblance to [ DANNA PAOLA ] is almost uncanny, but the [ TWENTY-THREE ] year old has been in the capital for [ TWENTY YEARS ]. many suspect that they are the notorious [ CAPO ] of the [ BARATHEON ] family: perhaps that has made them [ CALLOUS ] && [ JAUNDICED ] of late, when they used to be so [ DEXTEROUS ] && [ ASTUTE ]. during the daylight hours, [ SHIREEN ] can be found working as a [ UNIVERSITY STUDENT, MAJORING IN ARCHAEOLOGY ], but when night falls over king’s landing, they are best remembered listening to [ PARASITE EVE BY BRING ME THE HORIZON ]. may the gods be with them in these dark streets. ( mowgli. 24. cst. she/hers. )
STATISTICS.
full name: shireen adelita baratheon.
moniker / nickname: la reina de ciervos.
gender && pronouns: cisfemale, she / hers.
dob && age: october 31, 1997. 23.
zodiac sign: scorpio.
ethnicity: mexican.
sexual orientation: demisexual.
romantic orientation: demiromantic.
mafia affiliation: newly placed capo of the baratheon syndicate - this was done at the behest of her father, stannis, the current chief.
occupational history: shireen has worked many an hour in her father’s presence, acting as his unofficial assistant, secretary, and shadow. she is currently attending university, majoring in archaeology with a minor in history - she is also a part - time librarian at the campus library.
financial status: new money, secured by questionable means - the legality of the comfort of her family’s bank account doesn’t trouble shireen in the slightest.
PHYSICAL APPEARANCE.
face claim: danna paola.
height: five feet, two inches.
physical build: petite, muscled.
eye colour and shape: brown, round.
hair colour and style: brown with varying degrees of lighter caramel / blonde highlights throughout. shireen tends to let her hair do whatever it pleases, as she doesn’t care much to tame it.
usual expression: detached.
accent and speech style: shireen has a slight spanish accent to most words, coming from her stay in mexico during her formative years. her voice is known to be poignant, always bordering on a little too harsh.
clothing style: like the past thirty years vomited in her closet - she prefers a vintage, hipster style.
jewellery and accessories: shireen is often found wearing wide - rimmed glasses ( used for reading only, and not worn during physical activities ), and is known for her minimal style of a few earrings on her ears, and one septum ring.
FAMILY:
father: stannis baratheon.
mother: selyse baratheon, nee florent.
siblings, if any: none.
extended relations: two paternal uncles - robert & renly, three full paternal cousins - joffrey, myrcella, & tommen, many half cousins via robert’s infidelity - with edric storm being the one that shireen knows best. many florent aunts, uncles, and cousins.
significant other(s): none.
children: none.
household pet(s): one black, male sphynx cat named osiris.
FAVOURITES.
colour: red.
weather: an evening thunderstorm.
food item: bacon macaroni & cheese.
beverage: blueberry redbull.
time of day: midnight.
television genre: historical non - fiction.
PERSONALITY.
hobbies: softball, reading, cooking.
pet peeves: misrepresented historical figures, historical inaccuracies, reading on a device screen over a book, clinginess.
phobias: severe illness, death.
allergies: strawberries.
mbti type:
enneagram type:
positive traits: dexterous, astute, pragmatic.
negative traits: callous, jaundiced, taciturn.
morning routine: shireen wakes around ten am - showers, then is out the door for her eleven am class. breakfast is usually acquired along the way, an energy drink and whatever was in the warmer at the local convenience store.
beauty routine: incredibly simplistic - she’s not one to delve into new things very often; she doesn’t believe herself to be creative enough to do much more than some basics: foundation, concealer, eyeliner, mascara, and maybe some lipstick if she’s feeling particularly colourful.
sleeping habits: poor. how shireen manages to run on such little energy has always been a mystery to those around her. she’s fitful when she sleeps, tossing and turning, and generally only manages around five hours tops most nights.
living space && home: shireen lives at home with her parents still - out of the ease it provides her to do so, not because she necessarily enjoys it. her room is spotless, decorated very minimally, and with many a bookshelf filled with research books, biographies, and things of the like.
the only child of stannis and selyse baratheon, shireen’s conception was at best a calculated step at strengthening a partnership - not a mishap of love, but an event that happened in spite of love not being a primary component in her parents’ marriage. she was a quiet child, not prone to fits or much crying; she stared at the world with the same cold as steel look her father did - had learned from a young age that listening often bore more fruit than speaking. and the glimmer of pride in her father’s eyes as she trailed behind him, learning and taking in; asking questions when it was necessary, when she needed the explanation and his foresight but never interrupting.
it’s been said, perhaps more than once, that stannis baratheon is an emotionally stunted man; incapable of providing the nurturing environment a child needs to thrive . . . and for the most part, shireen couldn’t precisely stand to correct them. but it could be said about both of her parents, and at the very least, her father held her in a high regard despite the regular chill emanating from his exterior. maybe she’d never known the warmth of a father’s hug, but she could easily recall proud smiles and gentle pats upon her shoulders - that was more than what could be said about selyse. it isn’t that she doesn’t think her mother cares for her . . . but if shireen had to guess, she’d wager that she’s a constant reminder of the loveless, passionless past twenty odd years. and really, she’s not sure she can really blame her for that, except it would’ve been nice to have a mother who cared. deeply. who radiated warmth and concern and interest in her daughter.
shireen found solace in other ways - her father’s right hand man, davos, never lacked for a kind smile and radiated fatherly warmth; it was no surprise she stuck to him, like a moth to a flame. he and his wife marya became a secondary family - a set of parental figures who did care, who loved and doted on her like their own, right alongside their boys. it was with the seaworths that shireen learned of her love, and skill, with baseball. which, gender norms insisting, turned into her passion of softball. a pitcher with a mean curveball, strong arms that leant to more than a few home-runs; it was a way to focus her pain. her anger. but it was at home, at her father’s side, that she discovered her love of books. of learning, history and uncovering the past.
her teenage years were spent full and busy, bouncing between practices and studying; following along after her father and davos, learning and involving herself in the family syndicate at a young age. shireen was bled into the baratheon mafia at seventeen, despite the disgruntling of her mother who swore she was not ready. but she had been, it was clear they needed her - that her father needed more levelheadedness at play, considering the way things seemed to unfold with her uncle robert. he was a foolish man, of that she was certain. and she’d not let his actions ruin what her father had tried so hard to keep together for him. shireen was ruthless, but calculated in her actions. she became known for the donning of an antlered mask, often times the last thing seen by those taken out by her before things go dark.
when her father insisted she shift into the role of capo, self doubt crept in - her mother’s voice once again cutting through to say how idiotic it was to give such a rank to a dumb, thoughtless girl. but shireen had spent much of her life watching stannis make moves, leading when robert was busy; making decisions when decisions needed to be made and could be life or death. if she wasn’t ready, if she wasn’t capable - who would be? it’s been an interesting transition of the past few months, her time now split between university and ensuring that those she is in charge of know their place - know what is expected of them. but oh, how she enjoys the power - the attention her presence now garners. it’s captivating and delicious, and she never intends to let it go.
whatever her father’s relationship is with melisandre, the newest and most grating presence in her life, shireen doesn’t trust it. doesn’t trust her. and maybe it’s misplaced jealousy, ill-harnessed and chagrined because she craves his trust and care. being an only child has left her with a slew of complexes, the need for attention being one of them; that stannis has now let yet another person into their fold is troubling for her at best. concerning because she cannot read what melisandre’s intentions are, or figure out how both her mother and father seem to be mystified by whatever she whispers into their ears. and how no one else seems to care or believe her that something’s up.
the ciervos crew. members of the baratheon syndicate, specifically led by shireen for jobs. not quite handpicked but ultimately cultivated and bonded until they all found a common trust for one another, shireen wouldn’t trade any of them. they are her backbone, people she has come to adore and care for and would protect with her life.
true friends stab you in the front. her father has always said not to leave loose ends . . . leaving someone alive is occasionally considered thus. shireen hadn’t meant to let them live. metal of her bat brought down onto their features, she could’ve sworn she’d finished the job. and then she’d seen them out, weeks or months later, recovered . . . and her blood ran cold. she isn’t certain if they know it was her, if they do they haven’t shown their hand yet - but every interaction has her growing even more paranoid.
