#wintercolourss

Was Octavia happy to be here? Absolutely not. After what happened to her with Declan, the desire to meet his family was pretty much nonexistent. But this was a family dinner, everyone would be present, and both Octavia and Brooklyn knew it was better to attend, so she dressed up in a nice royal blue dress, straightened her hair which was usually held in a ponytail because of work, and had some natural make up on, since Octavia didn’t like putting much on her face to begin with, but she had to because some of the bruises were still fading away.

The champagne and photographies on the walls invaded a small gallery in Manhattan. The music was singing in the background, while different artists and aficionados were walking around those white walls. This was Spencer’s first exhibition, his most personal collection, a concept he never thought he would dare to expose to the public. The man opted for a very formal outfit, having his white shirt slightly unbuttoned and a black jacket. Davies didn’t bother with his thick beard and messy hair... it was probably his signature. He was chatting with different guests, as invitations were sent to all his contacts in the fashion and editorial industry.

Soon... his eyes captured a familiar face that forced a smile. “Excuse me a moment...” he said abruptly, but with a soft tone, to his interlocutor. Every step he took forward was calculated, a little shy but eager. He was just a few meters away from his object of desire. The place wasn’t extravagantly big, so it only took him a few seconds. “Hey...” he claimed, still holding his glass. “If this is your way of asking on that second date...” he teased, as they never went out for a second time. “You might be in the right place” Spencer concluded with a friendly tone. “I’m glad to see you...” he kept a grin on his lips.

In over a year, Aegon Targaryen had flown from Dragonstone with his sisters and vowed to take over the Seven Kingdoms with fire and blood. The day of his landing at the mouth of the Blackwater seemed distant. He had led a most successful campaign ever since. The lands of the Blackwater were under Targaryen rule, as were the Riverlands and the Stormlands. But before he could move on to the more isolated kingdoms of Dorne, the Vale and the North, he had yet to conquer the Reach and the West. He had every reason to suspect, this was the battle that would define it all. The night before the balance was to be tipped for good, the dragon lord stood alone inside the tent of command, studying his army’s moves one last time and still conflicted as to what would be the best strategy. His thoughts were interrupted when Rhaenys, his youngest sister-wife and only love, entered the tent, being the only one he had instructed the guards outsite to let through should she appear. A fleeting smile crossed the man’s face at the sight of her.

“This is it, Rhae. This is the battle, our biggest challenge. Even more so than the Riverlands. The Reach is the heart of the Seven Kingdoms. It is the most fertile territory, without it, we have no control over crops and livestock. As long as we do not rule these lands, we will always be dependent of them. As for the western lands...” he chuckled “It is said that mud in the west is yellow, because of all the gold. We must have control over those mines as well. Just imagine the income they would provide to our rule”.

The dragon lord pressed his lips together and leaned over the table, analyzing the vast map extended in front of him, and the tiny wooden figures that represented the troops, both their own and their enemy’s. “Our scouts report an army like no other. The joined forces of House Gardner and Lannister. Fresh for the fight, while our troops have grown weary. Even the dragons are tired. And hungry. We will soon run out of livestock to feed both them and the army” he sighed “But we must win this battle. Otherwise, we might as well give the entire war for lost”. That was a thought Aegon could hardly stomach. He was a victor, he accepted no defeat, he never hard. His father had taught him that much. For all the honor of his house, he could not loose. They were the last dragon lords of Old Valyria. The legacy of an entire civilization was at stake.

“I fear we might be beyond the powers of diplomacy now, are we not?  Have the ambassadors you sent returned yet?” he asked, his eyes never leaving the maps.

Paul was shuffling in this suit jacket, not used to wearing something so restricting normally. Still, he had to admit he brushed up well when it called for it. He arrived outside Alma’s apartment building with a box of chocolates just to say ‘thank you’ for accompanying him to his cousin’s wedding. He went to her door and gave it a little knock before taking a step back to wait for her to open it.

Going out alone was nothing new for Grace. She actually loved going alone and it meant that she could at least do whatever she wanted. Going out with others always meant that she would have to keep others in mind. The blonde was seated at the bar, martini glass in her hand, her fingers playing with the stem of the glass. Her gaze had found the other blonde near the end of the bar as well and Grace would lie if she would say that she hadn’t caught her attention. The fact that she hadn’t come close to the other yet was only because she wanted to know if she was here alone or not.

After having watched her for a while, Grace was pretty sure that the blonde indeed was alone at the bar. She took the martini glass into her hand before she moved over to the other end of the bar so she could join the other blonde. “Since I’m not one for pick up lines, I’m just gonna ask directly if I can get you something to drink. I’m Grace.”

3. which muse is the trickiest to get into character for?

Rafael. He is my most sporadic muse. It is actually kind of annoying.

4. Is there a muse that not a lot of people roleplay with?

I’ve been experimenting with new muses and some have been successful and some have not. I’m debating changing the roster and experimenting with others. We’ll see.

5. If you HAD to choose, who’s your least favourite muse?

Probably Rafael because I find it most difficult to find his muse. I love him though but he is super touch and go and it really annoys me because I rarely have muse issues.

10. which muse is the most fun to write for?

Bjorn. I loathe the tv canon character by now. He’s terrible but I LOVE my version of Bjorn. He is sensual, strong, oversensitive and a touch temperamental. Big dumb baby boy. 

what sort of things does your muse look for in a partner?

Warmth and caregiving tendencies. He wants to feel special and adored but he also wants to feel like he provides something his romantic interest. He wants to feel important in their lives. In his most kinky version, he has Master tendencies and likes to have his rules followed and provide structure to his lover. Ivar wants to feel central. 

what sort of things does your muse AVOID in a partner?

Ivar is not interested in someone who plays games or tries to provoke his jealousy. In most of his verses, he prefers to be his lover’s primary romantic interest. Brats need not apply. He isn’t interested in them.

does your muse believe in soulmates?