Chat

[WanderingJester]

The latter.

Great, gives me a chance to let Martyn (and hopefully see Dalton as well) gregor'd someone.

 

[SirDerpingtonIV]

Oh my the rp is still going?

 

[WanderingJester]

@Hypnos would the rain affect the melee grounds at all?


@Leusis Oh, the humidity must be increasing the power level of Roland's grumpiness ten fold with his old aches.  We might just see him annoyed enough to hop the stands and beat all these young whippersnappers down in the melee himself! XD 

 

[Hypnos]

@Hypnos would the rain affect the melee grounds at all?


@Leusis Oh, the humidity must be increasing the power level of Roland's grumpiness ten fold with his old aches.  We might just see him annoyed enough to hop the stands and beat all these young whippersnappers down in the melee himself! XD 

Might be a bit slippery for the horses but the show must go on.

 

[Mion]

Might be a bit slippery for the horses but the show must go on.

I assume Dalton is allowed to dismount himself?  

 

[Hypnos]

I assume Dalton is allowed to dismount himself?  

If he wants to get trampled by a fucking horse, of course he can.

 

[Mion]

If he wants to get trampled by a fucking horse, of course he can.

So you would think falling off a horse and them getting trampled would be better?

 

[Hypnos]

So you would think falling off a horse and them getting trampled would be better?

I think if he leaves horseback with a substantial number of people still on the field it's pretty much over for him.

 

[WanderingJester]

Might be a bit slippery for the horses but the show must go on.

I assume Dalton is allowed to dismount himself?  

So you would think falling off a horse and them getting trampled would be better?

Lance has a point here.  If the rain's coming down hard enough, I'll likely have Martyn and the rest start dismounted as well.  No need to get agincourt'd by riding with full plate into the mud.


Edit: So, @Hypnos mud or no mud on the pit?

 

[Hypnos]

Lance has a point here.  If the rain's coming down hard enough, I'll likely have Martyn and the rest start dismounted as well.  No need to get agincourt'd by riding with full plate into the mud.


Edit: So, @Hypnos mud or no mud on the pit?

Probably a small amount of mud. But it's only a light drizzle, nothing too bad.

 

[WanderingJester]

Probably a small amount of mud. But it's only a light drizzle, nothing too bad.

So, guess we don't have to worry about it turning into a cluster**** in the mud where everyone's the French from Agincourt? 

 

[Hypnos]

So, guess we don't have to worry about it turning into a cluster**** in the mud where everyone's the French from Agincourt? 

It should be fairly safe for horses to gallop upon.

 

[WanderingJester]

...and I see where Rory's face claim comes from, though I am disappointed at how the Lord of Suffolk is a goody two shoes and somewhat unsuited for his charge (Tywin would've slaughtered those rebel leaders without a second though).  Thank you, Tudors.


Also, yayz, @JustJazzy is back, even if it's just for a little bit :') 

 

[Mion]

Looks like Dalton is going to need some last minute horse riding training.

 

[clarinetti]

*Peers in*


Hey folks, how's it going? Pardon my absence the past few weeks: on top of school/work, my computer died on me >_< 


@Hypnos


I don't know how much farther the RP have progressed, but I should have time this week to complete the CS for review, if that's alright with you and you folks are still willing to have me.

 

[WanderingJester]

*Peers in*


Hey folks, how's it going? Pardon my absence the past few weeks: on top of school/work, my computer died on me >_< 


@Hypnos


I don't know how much farther the RP have progressed, but I should have time this week to complete the CS for review, if that's alright with you and you folks are still willing to have me.

We'll be happy to have you, and it hasn't progressed too far IC tbh.  Happy you're here  


Hope the situation with your computer sorts itself out quickly, I know that sucks especially when you're at school :/  

 

[ACHA]

Might have a post up in maybe 3 hours xD

 

[clarinetti]

We'll be happy to have you, and it hasn't progressed too far IC tbh.  Happy you're here  


Hope the situation with your computer sorts itself out quickly, I know that sucks especially when you're at school :/  

Aw shucks, warming the cockles of my heart over here. Feeling is mutual, happy to be back with you folks 


Well, the situation has indeed been sorted out: couldn't save the computer, but at least was able to recover the data from the hard-drive, so it could have been worse. Such is life after all: now I'm ready and looking forward to getting back into the swing of things ;p

 

[Mion]

*Peers in*


Hey folks, how's it going? Pardon my absence the past few weeks: on top of school/work, my computer died on me >_< 


@Hypnos


I don't know how much farther the RP have progressed, but I should have time this week to complete the CS for review, if that's alright with you and you folks are still willing to have me.

Everyone here is generally quite busy so the rp moves quite slow.  But we also have people who stick around so it evens out.

 

[WanderingJester]

@Hypnos My Braevira senses was tingling

 

[Hypnos]

@Hypnos My Braevira senses was tingling

How much was it for a Braevira Pt. 2?

 

[WanderingJester]

How much was it for a Braevira Pt. 2?

How much was it tingling for a Braevira Pt 2?


As much as Spidey wanted to join the Avengers.

 

[Hypnos]

How much was it tingling for a Braevira Pt 2?


As much as Spidey wanted to join the Avengers.

I want a novel length version of that Braevira story that you wrote for the last RP. It needs to happen.

 

[WanderingJester]

I want a novel length version of that Braevira story that you wrote for the last RP. It needs to happen.

Oh, for sure!  I'm working with Gabe and George on it right now!  We're going to launch it along with A Dream of Spring and Half Life 3!  It'll be the biggest video game/literary release ever! 

 

[Hypnos]

Lukan cautiously walked towards the double doors, where several guards stood. Some of them had horned helmets of the Baratheons, while the others had the winged helms of the Targaryens. Every single one looked as serious as the Stranger himself. Beside them, an herald had a list held in front of him, as he called out to each of the peasants standing in line. Since midmorning when Lukan arrived, the man had not looked up from the said list, only taking sips from a nearby cup on a small table that he sat at. Now it was the afternoon's closing, nearly the evening, and Lukan finally arrived at the front of the line. Standing on sore legs, the craftsmen nervously rubbed his hands together. It was a habit of the carpenter since his childhood. Their Graces had taken a bit of time off for lunch and other meetings, and have now resumed to hold console with the lowborns. While many of King's Landing found the conclusion of their meetings with the rulers of Westeros satisfactory, all of them agreed that the very meeting was daunting, to say the least.


Suddenly the Herald's voice spoke up again, his voice cutting through the chamber. "Lukus Varkson?"


Lukan looked up at him, "Lukan Varkens perhaps?" The Herald narrowed his eyes and peered closely at the scroll.


"Ah yes, a smudge, Lukan Varkens. On you go then." The middle age carpenter gulped, before steeling himself and walking forward. Two of the knights in front of the doors grabbed the handle and pulled, allowing the lowborn into the throne room. Truth be told, while he had been there for a good part of the day, Lukan had not been bored. The man had never even step foot into the Red Keep before, let alone into the antechamber of the throne room, or the throne room itself. Walking as though a wrong step would cost him his life, the carpenter went with his head and shoulders low forward. Along the way, he saw two older men to the side. One had a seahorse on a sigil on his chest, while the other had sharp blue eyes and a maester chain around his neck. The Seahorse Lord was rubbing the bridge of his nose, while the other maester gritted his teeth. Both men looked as though they wish to be anywhere else in Westeros at the moment.


Continuing forward Lukan finally caught the Iron Throne. His eyes widen at the sharp weapons that made up the massive seat, as well as the size of the thing. Realizing that he was staring, the middle aged craftsmen quickly dropped to the ground, but not before spotting two figures sitting on the seat, somewhat intertwined. Prostrated, Lukan heard a woman's voice reach out to him. "You may raise." Understanding, the man moved to get up, but for some reason his instincts told him to to stay down. After another moment, the woman's voice reached him again. "I said, you may raise." Again, he attempted to move, but years of living in Flea Bottom taught him to trust his instincts, especially in perilous situations. The man continued to bow face first to the ground, and the woman's voice, now clearly irritated, spoke once again. "You would ignore your Queen? I command you-"


Then a man's voice cut her off, from the same direction. "You may raise." Knowing that he had permission now, the carpenter rose to his feet, and looked up. There, seated on the Iron Throne, was a well built, but somewhat bored and broody light haired brunet young man. On his lap sat a clearly annoyed and scowling dark hair young woman. In front of him, Queen Kuvira Targaryen and King Braedon Baratheon sat, though the Red Dragon's death glare made Lukan nearly frozen where he stood. Somehow though, the man thought that her ire directed less at him but more at the person whose lap she currently sat on, despite her best effort to ignore the man that was, quite literally sharing the throne with her at the moment. The carpenter blinked at the two for a moment, before realizing that he should begin his request. He opened his mouth to speak, while seeing an old man with a cane next to the Iron Throne, a white and blue sigil depicting a falcon on his chest along with the chain of the Hand around his neck, and bags under his eyes. "Hail, Your Grace, Queen Kuvria Targaryen, first in your name, Dragon of the West, Queen of Westeros. Hail, King Braedon Baratheon, first in your name, Stag-"


Her Grace waved her hand impatiently, cutting the middle aged man off. "Yes yes, I know who I am, I've heard that said hundreds of time today, what is it you want, lowborn?" King Braedon narrowed his eyes behind her, clearly upset that his titles were cut off, though he said nothing to the woman on his lap. Lukan, confused, opened and closed his mouth a bit for a moment, before deciding to look over to the Hand of the King and Queen. The old man gave a tired nod along with spinning his hand at Lukan, telling him to get on with it. Lukan, taking the man's instruction, turned back towards the royal couple, still confused and not a little bit afraid, swallowed and spoke again.


"Your Graces, the Ironwood prices for King's Landing have tripled since Lord Bywater seize control of all the supplies coming into the city. I implore your Graces, in your mercy and wisdom, please decree that no one man should be allowed to control all of the Ironwood entering King's Landing. Without our own sources of Ironwood from the North, we more humble folks can't raise our own living, and provide the royal forces with competitive prices for your shields, weapons, ships and other carpentry works. Please, have mercy your Graces. Many of us have children to feed!" He fell down again, begging on his knees with hand grasped before him.


Queen Kuvria looked unimpressed. "You would dare ask me to restrict my vassal from his income? You have some nerve carpenter." Lukan's blood froze in his veins. That was it, he was going to be executed in the Red Keep right then and there. He wasn't even highborn, which meant that if the Queen of Westeros wishes it, she wouldn't even need a trial to kill him right then and there. Petrified, the craftsmen stared at the Dragon Queen, who seemed to be relishing him writhing in his own fear. "I am a merciful queen however, so I think I'll only take your hands, rather than your life for the offense." Lukan's eyes widen. His hands was all that kept the food on the table for his wife and three children. How would they live after this? Queen Kuvira, with eyes like a predator about to devour her prey, smiled intimidatingly at him. "Very well, by the power invested in me as Queen of Westeros and the Iron Throne, I-"


"By the power invested in me as King of Westeros and the Iron Throne," Lukan quickly darted his eyes over to the man whose lap the Queen sat on, and had cut her off. Queen Kuvira, scandalized that someone would interrupt her, seemed to have broken her own rule and stared incredulously at him, with a gaze mixed with disbelief, hate and disgust. "I, King Braedon Baratheon, hereby decree that no one man may own all of the supplies of Ironwood imported into King's Landing. Anyone attempting to control the flow of goods will be subject to a fine of 500 dragons and possible imprisonment in a year. So I say, so shall it be." Lukan, despite his previous fears, felt a smile come on to his face.


"Thank you your Graces, Thank you so-"


"Gelgin! Tell the imbecile in the room that the Queen of Westeros will not be interrupted while she makes a decree, nor will she allow some half wit, insolent little runt of a deer make some decree in her stead." Queen Kuvria practically barked those words at the Hand standing next to their throne, and the tired man just looked back up to the couple. Sighing, he spoke.


"Your Grace, Queen Kuvira would like you to not interrupt her when she's speaking, as well as consult her before you make any decree concerning the realm."


Turning to the Hand, King Braedon lean his head on his fist, and replied in his almost bored voice. "Please inform of the pathetic excuse of an impotent ruler that is our bitch queen that I can do what I please as King of Westeros, and so long as her irrational and quite frankly ludicrously stupid method of reigning over the Seven Kingdoms stands, I will continue to interrupt her little childish tirade until such a day when something sensical comes out of her mouth, or the Wall falls in the North and Long Night comes again." He yawned, before continuing. "Knowing her, we better get our winter wears ready."


Lord Gelgin closed his eyes for a moment, as though considering the merit of possibly throwing himself off the Tower of the Hand for a moment, before opening them again and looking at the Dragon Queen. "Your Grace, King Braedon would like you to reconsider your method of dealing with your subjects, and offers to handle some of the more troublesome responsibilities that comes with sitting on the Iron Throne as to allow you to focus on some studies and can come back a wiser ruler for Westeros to praise as you deserved to be."


If the Hand looked to calm and deescalate the situation, his plan was going poorly. The Queen looked more infuriated than ever, and practically spat out her next words. "Well you can tell the whoreson that he can shove his consideration right back up his arse, and while he's at it, he can bugger himself in the rear with a poison spear to push it through. Also, tell him that between the two of us, he's the one that's impotent, though I suppose he's never had much to work with in the first place, what with that tiny splinter of a prick between his legs. I'm quite starting to suspect that it might be a favor to him if I had him turned into eunuch. At least he would be able to properly bed a man that way."


Lukan looked at the Hand, who seemed to really lean towards the one time flight off the tower at the moment. The Lord of the Vale turned to the King and spoke, "Your Grace, Queen Kuvria would-"


Braedon didn't even let him finish this time, "Let me guess, the wench would have me sodomized with a sword? Or was it castration by fire again? You can tell the crazy insignificant dragon peon with a vagina that so long as I'm King, she will shut her mouth and let me fulfill my duties as King to the people. Else I have more than a half a mind to ship her off to Baelish's nearest brothel and personally pay for the first hundred man, dog or horse to ride her as much as they please."


Even before the Hand could open his mouth this time, Queen Kuvira exploded. "You tell that insufferable, arrogant, flea ridden, pox carrying, waste of a Stormlord's turd that he would do well to remember that I am the Queen of Westeros, and as such he would be lucky if he could so much as smell my horse's shite, let alone be in the same city as me. Let him know that I will take great pleasure in his death, and, unlike his miserable piss lord of a father, I will personally make it as slow and painful as possible. Perhaps a slow roast over fire while he's impaled on a spit and rotated a dozen times? Or should he be keelhaul first, then left out to dry and then burned alive? I know of a wonderful ship my Uncle Baelor has." She began to giggle, unhinged.


Apparently that struck a nerve with the Baratheon, as the King sat up straight now, extending himself. Unfortunately this only served to push the two closer together, to the pleasure of neither as Lukan could see. "You tell her Hand, that I still have enough men in King's Landing and access to enough resources that I can tie that wench, no, pig of a wench, along with every other dragon down on a rack for every man and animal in the city to take, before incinerating them all in wildfire in King's Landing. I would take great pleasure to watch from the deck of a royal vessel of mine in Blackwater Bay as her pleads for mercy turns into screams of anguish, as she watch her family raped and killed first, then her and every last stone of Targaryen power broken."


"You tell him that if he doesn't shut his fat mouth, I will have the royal guard defenestrate him from the Tower of the Hand, while his privates are tied to a rope secured to a weight at the top."


"You tell her that if she insists on this conversation, I will make her clean every last privy in the castle with her tongue."


"YOU TELL HIM THAT HE COULDN'T RULE IF THAT MEANT SATISFYING THE LOOSEST WENCH IN THE SEVEN KINGDOMS!"


"YOU TELL HER THAT SHE IS THE LOOSEST WENCH IN THE SEVEN KINGDOMS!"


"Why you!" With that Queen Kuvira spun around in her seat, and attacked the King's face with her mouth. In his defense, King Braedon returned a counter attack with equal ferocity, even as the Targaryen straddled herself on top of him and imprisoned his waist with her legs. The two continued to attempt to suffocate the other with their mouths, as Lukan watched the stunning, startling, and somewhat terrifying scene unfolding in front of him. The Hand facepalmed, and after a moment of rubbing his brows, looked back up at the lowborn.


"Well, there you have it carpenter. A royal decree stating that no man can monopolize the Ironwood trade in King's Landing. I suggest you go before this gets more graphic." He nodded to the door, and Lukan, coming back to his sense and remembering what he came for, quickly bowed with quiet thank yous to the Lord of the Vale, before hastily retreating away from the sound of increasingly wet kisses on the Iron Throne. Just as he passed the Lord of Driftmark and the Grand Maester, he heard one of them muttered to himself.


"Calm down Baelor, just another hour today and you can kill that old piece of leather next to you. You can do this." Reaching the double doors, Lukan took one last look back at the Iron Throne, and saw that the royal couples were in the process of destroying each other's clothing, with the Hand rushing forward. The words of the Hand chased Lukan out of the throne room.


"NOT ON THE IRON THRONE YOUR GRACE! REMEMBER THE CUTS FROM LAST TIME. THEY STILL HAVEN'T HEALED PROPERLY!"

^ A work of art