#tyrran

grace  stares  at  vann  for  so  long  it  feels  like  his  eyeballs  might  burn  out  of  his  head  .      is  this  some  sort  of  test  of  his  spirits  ?      to  make  sure  he  hasn't  gone  insane  from  isolation  or  otherwise  ?      this  guy  is  one  head  taller  than  him  and  twice  as  wide  ,      and  he's  cracking  jokes  .

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤreally  ,      really  good  jokes  .

❝        wow  .      that's  a  really  good  idea  . actually . that's ...        ❞        darn  .      why  did  he  think  of  that  !      the  rocky  road  mcflurry  .      crap  ,      that's  genius  .      it's  so  genius  he  knows  he  doesn't  need  to  mark  it  down  .      his  brain  will  do  all  the  remembering  for  him  ,      aside  the  awed  impression  that's  branded  in  his  brain  the  way  they  brand  horses  back  on  earth  .      like  a  giant  cold  brand  right  on  his  frontal  cortex  .      imagine  ,      for  a  second  ,      a  mcdonald's  mcflurry  .      specifically  the  mcflurries  from  earth  .      now  imagine  if  those  mcflurries  were  made  out  of  all  the  vitamins  the  researchers  had  learned  how  to  synthesize  for  him  .      not  all  of  them  ,      obviously  .      rocky  has  to  eat  ,      too  .      even  if  the  taste  won't  matter  .

❝        a  flurry  named  after  rocky  himself  .      we  could  make  it  rocky-colored  .      the  sprinkled  chunks  on  top  could  be  rocky-colored  ,      and  then  the  whipped  topping  could  be      …      off-white  .      i  don't  know  .      eridians  don't  know  what  color  is  .      i'll  tell  them  myself  .      ugh  ,      and  the  taste-testing      …        ❞        he  lifts  a  finger  :      habit  now  ,      in  both  his  own  mind  and  eridian  culture  .      accidentally  ,      of  course  .        ❝        i've  gotta  ask  him  how  he  feels  about  all  this  .      you  want  to  try  one  ?      i  mean  ,      once  they  figure  out  how  to  make  it      …        ❞

 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪ ㅤ*ㅤ MCDYLAND'S MENU ???  /   𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 .

non-verbal actions.

the moment ser vann   (   vann.   stupid hedge knight.   unworthy of his mere presence —   )   turns away, aerion sees red.   it flares hot in his chest like flames about to burst from his throat, an inhuman snarl bubbling up in its place.

“ do not — ”   he lurches forward, eyes on vann's scarf before that acidic touch redirects and grasps at his arm instead, nails digging in.   the knight it too well-protected to reach skin, but by the seven does he wish he could.   his teeth are bared, and like many an animal experiencing fight-or-flight, his pupils are blown wide enough to swallow those pale irises whole.

it's a ridiculous sight, the way he's all encompassed by vann's shadow, how miniscule he looks in the darkness of their makeshift camp. were vann to leave him here, the princeling wouldn't know which direction to take, too far from home now.

“ do not turn your back on me, knight.   you will sorely regret it if you do. ”

𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒. — accepting!

ASHFORD WAS A PLACE SHE ENJOYED BEING—AT FIRST, BUT AFTER THE SECOND DAY, THINGS BECAME OVERWHELMING. The first day had been calm, fun even but as soon as the second day rolled around, things had taken a turn for the worst and... she wanted no part in it.

The chaos had become a headache, no amount of hiding away within castle walls did her any good. Somewhere between the first two days of wandering around either watching puppet shows, eating food or buying trinkets that had stories attached to them for a high price she met a hedge knight.

Conversation with him was easy, albeit awkward at first, even if she preferred the company of animals rather than people. Vann—she had learned his name to be—and Ayldri had become fast friends & somewhere along those lines, she had practically begged him to take her somewhere that had nothing to do with egotistical Targaryen princes slaughtering horses & breaking legs ( or fingers ).

The answer had obviously been a yes, despite it being very much a rule they were both breaking; more so him than her. The Dornish princess was just happy to have another friend & someone who wasn't going to make a hassle about anything that had something to do with responsibilities pertaining to the future.

“Would you have preferred to sit there and watch an animal suffer because Prince Aerion's sadism knows no bounds?” Ayldri asks, with a tone that had been matter-of-factly, her horse snorts in response as Ashford Castle slowly grows in distance. “I deal with the Targaryens enough outside of tournaments...” She continues with a dramatic sigh, letting go of the reigns & leaning forward.

Her family would eventually find out, sure. Hopefully by then, they would be back & nobody would have to worry, let alone be in trouble. Although, she even promised to dress like a commoner, which took very little convincing, Ayldri had been the one to bring up the idea herself; traveling with a Princess already brought enough attention.

“I've never met anyone as tall as you.” Granted, nearly everyone was taller than her, she just hasn't come across someone who was as tall as the trees in Winterfell. “I bet even the most seasoned knights are afraid of you.”

Bday gift for a pal in my DnD group! It’s his character Rolen, a paladin of Tyr, brought back from the dead.. >:)

positivity time !  ( always accepting! )

VANTO THE THINGS I COULD SAY!!! we hit it off So quickly after becoming mutuals, I think we went through several weeks worth of plotting in a single day or two, which is absolutely delightful to me. you bring so much good energy to the roleplay sphere and it's been a wonderful experience plotting and writing with you. your muses are so fleshed out and so loved, it's clear as day to see, regardless of if they're canon or original. your graphics are gorgeous and your entire aesthetic theming across all of your blogs blows me away. you're so inspirational to me & I can't help but get excited when I get a response from you, whether it's ooc or ic.

genuinely so glad you found my hades, and that you've gone on this aerion adventure with me too. it's people like you that make me glad to have returned to roleplay because it really feels like a collaborative effort with what we build together.

 hearing him scoff makes her smile some, finding his response more entertaining than the horror show that ruined an event meant for a nameday.

she was convinced most men forgot who the spectacle was for in the first place. not that she could partially blame them; just only earlier before her last minute decision to talk a hedge knight into traveling with her somewhere that had nothing to do with shattered shields or drinking did her brother remind her that this was ALL for lord ashford's daughter.

ayldri was beginning to doubt such a thing from the moment aerion decided to take things to an extreme.

“i find that hard to believe, ser.” she replies, highly doubting the fact that none are scared of him. maybe impressed by his height, that she could believe, but seeing him & not be fearing?

she's looking at him again, her horse continuing its desired pace, a soft hum as her response, though it's laced with a tune that made her curious as to what he was talking about—then it hit her. the obvious fact that she had no knight to guard her.

her father's fault really. . .

“my brother usually is the one who takes that spot.” but due to him taking part of the lists, the Prince of Sun & Stars was not present to look after his little sister & for once, she thought he deserved to be lifted of such a daunting responsibility. it was also a chance for her father to find someone capable of handling the task of looking after his daughter.

“but if this journey ends well, then i shall talk my father into making you my sworn sword.”

a collection of morally complex prompts.

the softness of ser vann's voice is at odds with the severity of his expression, the way he stares down at the princeling.   it gets under aerion's skin in the worst way, fingers twitching at his sides.   something about vann's judgement rankles him.   something about this man not favouring him makes his insides coil.

it'd been this way ever since the ashford tourney, anger and hostility blooming into something..   else.   a fixation, an obsession, an urge to both bite and drive his blade into the knight.   an ever-pressing need for his attention, perhaps even his approval.   his jaw twitches, pupils contracting into slits.

“ do you think your opinion of worth to me, knight ? ”   a lie, hot and acidic on his tongue.   but how could he ever be honest ?   he couldn't begin to understand himself even if he tried.   the way vann is looking at him makes him want to hurt someone.

“ a glorified septa at my father's behest.   I'm not your hound to call to heel and you would do well to remember your place. ” 

(   stop looking at me like that   )

@tyrran sent : did you really think it would be that easy?

all good things in life do not come with ease; they do not fall into your lap like overripe fruit from an orchard tree. eden did not expect it to be easy, like child's play, but she was not expecting this, either. she stares at him now, flagrantly dumbfounded with her mouth hanging agape, eyes as wide as a full moon in the starlit sky. shocked enough that she's got her clawed hands curling against her chest, fingers brushing against strands of obsidian black hair as they flow in the wind.

" are you toying with me? " she says at last, sounding as shaken with disbelief as she looks. the hunger has made her reckless, pink eyes so pale they appear nearly white, reflecting back the moon's bright light. perhaps her footsteps were not soft enough — stealth has never been her specialty; perhaps she struck too soon, gave too much warning. eden crinkles her nose, looking quite indignant for someone who just tried to eat him. " you are. you're making fun. " a pause. " are you? "

inbox prompts / always accepting.