Posts : 3802 Beata Bucks : 12385 Join date : 2013-03-14 Age : 25 Location : Fire's Pants/Seattle, WA
Subject: Screenshot dump Tue Jul 29, 2014 8:17 pm
Introducing Frenya Greyjoy, only living trueborn child and heir to King Euron Crow's Eye, the one true Queen of Salt and Rock, Daughter of the Sea Wind, Lady of Blacktyde and the Seastone Isles, and Lord Reaper of Pyke.
She enjoys long walks on the beach, deep conversation, holding hands, romance novels, destroying her enemies, brutally executing entire families, pina coladas, and getting caught in the rain. Call me.
(they were promptly executed, except for my husband Maron, whom I ransomed) (and that was the second time I completely obliterated an entire family) (I did this two more times in the following years) (the moral of the story is to not fuck with little girls) (no godless man may sit the Seastone Chair, bitch)
(I divorced Maron in favor of his nephew because lol) (also got pregnant at 16-17ish) (while leading a rebellion against the heir of the first King whose family I murdered) (and that was the third time I obliterated an entire family) (don't fuck with little girls)
(honestly wasn't paying any attention to Essos or mainland Westeros this whole time because I was too busy getting pregnant and executing high-profile prisoners) (but here's a random patch of North where Meereen was) (shit is fucked) (RIP Daenerys)
Falcon
Posts : 728 Beata Bucks : 11620 Join date : 2013-03-14 Age : 32
Subject: Re: Screenshot dump Wed Jul 30, 2014 8:51 am
Is A Song of Fire and Ice a romance novel?
Sleepy Bottom Pillow
Posts : 3802 Beata Bucks : 12385 Join date : 2013-03-14 Age : 25 Location : Fire's Pants/Seattle, WA
Cersei was kneeling before the altar of the Mother. Joffrey's bier had been laid out beneath the Stranger, who led the newly dead to the other world. The smell of incense hung heavy in the air, and a hundred candles burned, sending up a hundred prayers. Joff's like to need everyone of them, too.
His sister looked over her shoulder. "Who?" she said, then, "Jaime?" She rose, her eyes brimming with tears. "Is it truly you?" She did not come to him, however. She has never come to me, he thought. She has always waited, letting me come to her. She gives, but I must ask. "You should have come sooner," she murmured, when he took her in his arms. "Why couldn't you have come sooner, to keep him safe? My boy..."
Our boy. "I came as fast as I could." He broke from the embrace, and stepped back a pace. "It's war out there, Sister."
"You look so thin. And your hair, your golden hair..."
"The hair will grow back." Jaime lifted his stump. She needs to see. "This won't."
Her eye went wide. "The Starks..."
"No. This was Vargo Hoat's work."
The name meant nothing to her. "Who?"
"The Goat of Harrenhal. For a little while."
Cersei turned to gaze at Joffrey's bier. They had dressed the dead king in gilded armor, eerily similar to Jaime's own. The visor of the helm was closed but the candles reflected softly off the gold, so the boy shimmered bright and brave in death. The candlelight woke fires in the rubies that decorated the bodice of Cersei's mourning dress as well. Her hair fell to her shoulders, undressed and unkempt. "He killed him, Jaime. Just as he'd warned me. One day when I thought myself safe and happy he would turn my joy to ashes in my mouth, he said."
"Tyrion said that?" Jaime had not wanted to believe it. Kinslaying was worse than kingslaying, in the eyes of gods and men. He knew the boy was mine. I loved Tyrion. I was good to him. Well, but for that one time... but the Imp did not know the truth of that. Or did he? "Why would he kill Joff?"
"For a whore." She clutched his good hand and held it tight in hers. "He told me he was going to do it. Joff knew. As he was dying, he pointed at his murderer. At our twisted little monster of a brother." She kissed Jaime's fingers. "You'll kill him for me, won't you? You'll avenge our son."
Jaime pulled away. "He is still my brother." He shoved his stump at her face, in case she failed to see it. "And I am in no fit state to be killing anyone."
"You have another hand, don't you? I am not asking you to best the Hound in battle. Tyrion is a dwarf, locked in a cell. The guards would stand aside for you."
The thought turned his stomach. "I must know more of this. Of how it happened."
"You shall," Cersei promised. "There's to be a trial. When you hear all he did, you'll want him dead as much as I do." She touched his face. "I was lost without you, Jaime. I was afraid the Starks would send me your head. I could not have borne that." She kissed him. A light kiss, the merest brush of her lips on his, but he could feel her tremble as he slid his arms around her. "I am not whole without you."
There was no tenderness in the kiss he returned to her, only hunger. Her mouth opened for his tongue. "No," she said weakly when his lips moved down her neck, "not here. The septons..."
"The Others can take the septons." He kissed her again, kissed her silent, kissed her until she moaned. Then he knocked the candles aside and lifted her up onto the Mother's altar, pushing up her skirts and the silken shift beneath. She pounded on his chest with feeble fists, murmuring about the risk, the danger, about their father, about the septons, about the wrath of gods. He never heard her. He undid his breeches and climbed up and pushed her bare white legs apart. One hand slid up her thigh and underneath her smallclothes. When he tore them away, he saw that her moon's blood was on her, but it made no difference.
"Hurry," she was whispering now, "quickly, quickly, now, do it now, do me now. Jaime Jaime Jaime." Her hands helped guide him. "Yes," Cersei said as he thrust, "my brother, sweet brother, yes, like that, yes, I have you, you're home now, you're home now, you're home." She kissed his ear and stroked his short bristly hair. Jaime lost himself in her flesh. He could feel Cersei's heart beating in time with his own, and the wetness of blood and seat where they were joined.
But no sooner were they done than the queen said, "Let me up. If we are discovered like this..."
Reluctantly he rolled away and helped her off the altar. The pale marble was smeared with blood. Jaime wiped it clean with his sleeve, then bent to pick up the candles he had knocked over. Fortunately they had all gone out when they fell. If the sept had caught fire I might never have noticed.
"This was folly." Cersei pulled her gown straight. "With Father in the castle... Jaime, we must be careful."
"I am sick of being careful. The Targaryens wed brother to sister, why shouldn't we do the same? Marry me, Cersei. Stand up before the realm and say it's me you want. We'll have our own wedding feast, and make another son in place of Joffrey."
. . .
In other words, yes.
Sleepy Bottom Pillow
Posts : 3802 Beata Bucks : 12385 Join date : 2013-03-14 Age : 25 Location : Fire's Pants/Seattle, WA
Sorry. I was rather fond of you, but a Greyjoy must always sit the Seastone Chair. You Harlaws are getting uncomfortably powerful anyways.
That was rather easy.
My son by my first husband Maron (Qhored Harlaw) controls the High Lordships of Great Wyk and most of Harlaw. I, his mother, control the High Lordships of Pyke and the Seastone Isles. My dear upstart father-in-law, who I let govern peacefully these last few years while I forged marriage ties and popped out Greyjoy heirs, only controlled the province of Stonetree.
Qhored didn't join my war, but it didn't turn out to be necessary. After I beat Tarle a few times he conceded to my demands and abdicated for my son, Norne Greyjoy. All hail the Iron King.
(Tarle was released from Norne's dungeon soon after, thankfully. I didn't want to have to kill the man. He still likes me too apparently which is lol.)
My hope is that once Frenya bites the dust, I'll be able to change the succession laws for kingship as Norne. Fuck Kingsmoots.
I'm getting a little worried about my son Qhored's heirs (as they will inherit both the High Lordships of Harlaw and Great Wyk), but right now I'm just too happy about the Goodbrothers getting quadruple-fucked. Fuck the Goodbrothers.
Also there's a civil war in Westeros or whatever.
(the Stormlander dude won, I believe) (I don't know what happened to the Queen) (WAR OF THE USURPER 2.0 WOOTWOOT)
EDIT: oh shit
EDIT2: Qhored died of pneumonia and now that father-in-law I usurped has all his old titles.
FML
Stormi The Slenderman
Posts : 597 Beata Bucks : 10306 Join date : 2014-01-26 Age : 25
I declare war on god damn fucking Tarle Harlaw, because he was now in possession of half the country and was being an all-around asshole, making political maneuvers to name himself heir to the Iron Islands. Our numbers were about even, but I managed to prevail because Frenya don't take no shit. I name my husband Andrik as Lord of Harlaw and Great Wyk, Tarle fucks off to my son's court in Stonetree, and everything's good.
I now own the islands of Pyke, Blacktyde, Orkmont, Old Wyk, Saltcliffe, and Lonely Light. My husband now owns Harlaw and Great Wyk. When Andrik dies, those titles will pass down to our son, Norne. My son Tarle Greyjoy (bad name now I realize, I guess the AI named him after his dickhole grandpa) has married the last Farwynd of Sealskin Point and their children will inherit lands on Great Wyk. Norne's children by his aunt will come to rule Harlaw. For the first time in over 40 years, maybe 50, the Iron Islands will be one, stable, united kingdom under Greyjoy rule. After that, I can focus on our true goal: the Iron Throne and the rich lands of the mainland Westerosi. It'll take years of planning and careful maneuvering, but nobody on the Isles could even think of opposing us now, so there's no distractions from ―
Annnnnd hello Tarle Harlaw. Revolting again, I see. The Merlyns of Pebbleton backing you? Greaat.
Technically it was my husband leading the war against the Merlyns, but I did all the work, because my husband is a massive pussy. During the war Frenya personally killed two important commanders. My husband captured the last Merlyns and put them to death, and what-do-you-know, becomes the new Lord of Pebbleton. Great Wyk is even more under our control, and Tarle Harlaw has fucked off to the Riverlands.
Well, that's fantastic. Now we can finally ―
guess what
three guesses
i'll give you three guesses what happened
did you guess that tarle harlaw swore fealty to the lady paramount of the riverlands and usurped my husband's title as lord of harlaw
so there is this ugly riverlander blue where my beautiful greyjoy black once was
and so that he has the backing of one of the most powerful people in westeros if i want to say anything about it
did you
'cause if you guessed that you'd be right
I immediately declare war. Riverlanders are pussies. Ironborn stronk. Frenya destroys the army they send over, defeats the Reachmen from the Arbor that come over to the Lady Paramount's aid, and then lays siege to the holdings they took on Harlaw.
And then my game crashed.
FML.
tl;dr fuck in-laws
Last edited by Sleepy on Thu Jul 31, 2014 9:28 pm; edited 1 time in total
Lilac Admin
Posts : 695 Beata Bucks : 11278 Join date : 2013-01-07 Age : 1008
The Iron Throne throws its support behind the Lady Paramount of the Riverlands. Frenya dies of natural causes at the ripe old age of 46 before she can drive the invaders from our shores. Her piece of shit imbecile son takes over, but without Frenya, the war is lost. Tarle Harlaw dies as well, but his son still rules most of the island.
Soon after, the Stormlander king on the Iron Throne lays claim to our holy islands and invades again. Norne is too much of a pussy to drive them back. Everything Frenya worked for, for nearly 50 years, crumbles into nothing. The game begins to bug out at this point. The proud ironborn are reduced to thralldom. Tarle Harlaw's ghost laughs at me from the deepest pit of hell as all my vassals begin to plot against me. Everything's gone wrong. I'm so done with this game. Even if my dynasty survives, it'll all be for nothing. I don't have the strength to revolt against the Iron Throne and I can't make any alliances on the mainland because everybody despises my religion and my culture.
The Old Way is dead. The Iron Kings of Salt and Rock are gone. Also, Aztecs are invading. Fucking Aztecs. I'm not even joking.
Frenya didn't die for this shit.
I'm done. I hate Frenya's failure of a son. I hate the Westerosi that quash my people under an iron heel. I hate how everything's beginning to glitch. I hate my vassals. I hate the god damn Harlaws.
I'm not going to let the Greyjoy name live on in shame, though. I'm going out with a bang.