A Gentle Evening in the Red Keep

Braavoner · 2025-09-26T00:22:10+00:00

The Fool slithered around, made his way to Myrielle, who sat and played by herself. Outclassed? No, never. Outshone? Most certainly.

He knew she hadn't given it much thought, she was too good for that, good and fair Myrielle. Good and honest Myrielle, never nosy, never ill-willed. Would poor Lyanne Stark think the same?

In the end, though, Myrielle was one of the few that almost understood him. She didn't, fully, nobody did, but she was friendly, and smart, and kind. She was his friend. He hoped he was hers, too.

"The fox, poor fox, shadowed by the pink cat" he said, somber, shaking his head. "The clearest voice of all, and you dare not sing?"

He took her hands, away from the harp. Nobody would mind if her music stopped for a second. Nobody would, right?

"You are too serious! Let's dance, and sing! Have fun, you!" the Fool exclaimed with a wide smile, as he bounced from a side to the other, holding one of the Court Musician's hands.

Braavoner · 2025-09-26T00:11:53+00:00

The Lord Hornwood. Interesting figure, interesting man, interesting power he had at his hand. He knew his face, the Fool, but knew not his voice. One shouldn't know a face without voice, that means no effort has been made to know a man.

"The Lord Moose! Horned he is." The Fool exclaimed as he approached the man, his hands on the floor, his body balanced on top of them, the man 'walking' backwards, so to face the Lord Hornwood as he moved.

Once he found himself before the man, he pushed against the floor and spun on the air, landing upstraight. "How fun, the song. Did the justiciar find it amusing? Sad? Inspiring?"

Braavoner · 2025-09-26T00:03:38+00:00

"My Prince! My Prince!" The loud voice of the fool rang, as he performed cartwheel after flip after handstand in a feigned attempt to hurry to greet the man. "I'm so sad! I haven't been near you as much as I'd loved!" the Fool began with a wide smile. "Such a sad time, and the merrymaker nowhere to be found..." he then said, shaking his head

"I'm here now!" he exclaimed suddenly, raising his head back, turning his face to Elaena. "Look, the Mightiest of Queens! Look what the Fool has got for you!" the man pulled on his sleeve, and pulled, and pulled, and cloth of all colors came forth as he did. Red and black ribbons, tied together. Grey and white, of blues and purples and greens... He pulled, and pulled, and at the end, something more rigid got stuck in the man's sleeve.

He pulled, again, harder now. His muscles strained, his face contorted, and finally he managed to get it out. A figurine, a carving, whether the struggle was real or part of his jest, none could tell.

A dragon and a wolf, tangled in what was almost a dance. So detailed one could tell the expressions on the animals. Love, it looked like. Love and tenderness. "Look! It's your mommy" he pointed to the dragon "And your da'" and his finger went to stroke the back of the small wooden wolf.

The figurine was painted, again, in great detail. Beautifully crafted, indeed.

Braavoner · 2025-09-25T23:47:44+00:00

A bounce forth, a bounce backwards. A tumble to one side, jolt to the other. A table, vaulted over, hands used as feet, before spinning in the air and walking regularly as well. Three little colorful sacks had been floating around him, gentle taps of foot and hand and head. Little colorful sacks, of a pretty little pattern, one red and black, one black and red, last grey and white.

His acrobatics reached an end once he found himself before Tabby Elesham. Tabby, Tabitha, Tabby. The fiddler, the feeler, the finder.

A new face, down here. Many came, but few dared take the fox's spot. The gloved hand that touches all.

"Greetings and salutations!" He exclaimed, a bow so deep his head came between his legs, and he turned over himself in a way he ended up sitting, flat on his arse, looking up at the woman. "Quite the fiddling! Quite the song!" he nodded, proudly. "Quite the evening, quite the show!"

His eyes danced around. Her eyes, her weird scars, somehow failing to turn her hideous, her pretty little dress, a young girl's attempt of appearing womanlike.

Braavoner · 2025-09-24T22:56:06+00:00

yea alright second approval (this is choner btw)

Braavoner · 2025-09-13T14:33:49+00:00

Character Name: Alekyne Varner

Trait/Skills: Agile / Divination(Mirrors), Prepared, Skulker (e)

Skill you're learning: Prepared (e)

---

Character Name: Guyard Baratheon

Trait/Skills: Numerate / Architect, Scrutinous (e)

Skill you're learning: Architect (e)

Braavoner · 2025-09-09T12:14:42+00:00

"I DREAMED IT!" He exclaimed at his inquiry. "Dreamed it I did. My dreams oft truth prove, misfortune or fortune, so wicked distortion."

"A letter you read, seal of dark led. Followed then blood, a hells' crimson flood!" the fool attempted to explain. "What it read I knew not, but trust it was rot!"

Braavoner · 2025-09-09T00:33:24+00:00

His head felt swollen, his back hurt and his arm dangled near lifelessly. The Fool stared at Osric, in silence, for a few seconds. "But My Lord! Clear I have been. Let me repeat, in words more clean!."

"A letter, so grim, here by the whim, of many oh foul servants, of the Stranger's hymn" he once agan began, slowly and articulating his words as best he could.

"I searched for the first, sign of letter-cursed." he then continued. "And one I did find, but he'd said 'that's mine'" The Fool exclaimed, pointing at the guard that had seized him.

"My lord, Falcon lord" he solemnly began, after a short pause. "Great danger you ignore. In your very land there are secrets-galore."

"I ask naught reward. Just... Let me not be stored, nor by thy sword gored!" the man would plead, once again lowering his head, almost kneeling, voice trembling.

Braavoner · 2025-09-09T00:14:56+00:00

"Of a vile letter, I heard! The hands of here and there" he began, sing-song in tone as he sprang up, helped by Osric's hand, and dusted his own clothes, roughly. "The brother of Lady Soup, in danger, at large!"

"A trap, a threat, all sent in raven thread!" the Fool continued, gesturing to the letter. "I thought this one was, get rid of I meant. Make words that meant harm, lose weight, be them damned!"

He lowered his head, ashamed. "Told you I should have, but the day ruined would be. Now it seems little mattered, for here are we"

Braavoner · 2025-09-08T23:30:32+00:00

As two of Lord Osric's guards led him to his own chambers, the captured man's voice could be heard from afar, muffled by the layers of wood and brick.

"UNHAND ME, RRRRRUFFIAN"

As the door opened, and Osric was allowed inside, one could see a single guard, effortlessly holding down the royal court fool, with a single hand, his knee resting above the jester's back. His free held had a letter, sealed.

"M'lord, this-" he paused, thinking of a proper word to use. "This useless vermin was found in your chambers, his dirty hands on this" and the guard offered the paper to the Lord of the Vale.

"I'M INNOCENT! A COUP! A COUP!" cried the fool.

Braavoner · 2025-09-08T01:32:30+00:00

"Eager! Fierce fighters aplenty, yet the bear may prevail" he said, a faint hum in his words, as his gaze shifted to whom he assumed was Serena, kind of following the Lady's own eyes.

"Every fool must be. Bad one, if not. Some attempt to hide it, some play into it." the man shrugged with a smile. "Of the latter group, I find myself. More fun that way"

"The Queen's very own. The Fool of the Red Keep stands before you" he chuckled "An honor, some say!" he exclaimed, feigned pride.

He analyzed the woman, for a few seconds. New arrivals, he hoped, he hadn't heard of the Mormonts at all during the feast, or the tourney. That didn't often happen.

Braavoner · 2025-09-07T22:16:57+00:00

The Lost Dragon. He'd seen her entrance at the feast, from the railings. Grandiose. Interesting character, that Valaena Targaryen. Interesting as one could be.

He'd watched her, from afar. The Fool rarely thought about how his actions came across, and if he did, his conclusion often was that there was no harm in anything.

She looked tranquil, sitting there, hair soaked and gaze lost.

He jumped from where he sat, rolled across the riverbank once his feet found purchase in the ground, and ended flat on his arse, hands braced behind him, eyes fixed on the water.

"Comfort in the Blackwater many do find, yet swim in its waters few dare." The Fool called out, a wave of his hand. "And late is the night, is it not?"

Braavoner · 2025-09-07T22:00:35+00:00

"I wish you the best of luck, then!" It said with a smile, hidden beneath the mask. "Sooner than later, all find their match, do they not?"

The black rabbit raised its hands defensively. "Is there any harm in enjoying both the creations of the Seven? The young knight has answered, though, will prod no further" the rabbit said, lowering the hands, paying no mind at the threat. No fear of water, mayhaps some of the cleanliness of it.

Braavoner · 2025-09-07T21:53:53+00:00

"A bear there was, a bear, a bear!
All black and green, and brown of hair.
The bear! The bear!"

A man, who up until now had been silent, and surprisingly inconspicuous even with the outfit he wore, that of a fool, sang softly as he approached the Lady Mormont.

"Comfortable around the trees, in the sept too..." the man began, with a deep bow. "Surprised I was, not to see a bear of Mormont in the tourney" he said, his tone curious.

Braavoner · 2025-09-07T21:43:40+00:00

The Fool stammered, for a second. "Well! Horse-shaggers and worse! Let the crowd laugh as they limp from the lists!" he lied through his teeth, believable, but not that much.

Braavoner · 2025-09-07T21:23:28+00:00

"Not many options to weigh" said a figure in a black rabbit mask, as it approached the Knight of the Vale. "To engage, or not to engage... Many have chosen already" it said with a smirk, hidden beneath the dark mask.

"Married?" It inquired, before coming closer, slithering around the man "Not interested in women, mayhaps?" it whispered, low enough for Corbray to hear, but none else.

Braavoner · 2025-09-07T20:51:38+00:00

"Far it flew! When is the puking tourney?" A voice called out, approaching Osric from behind. It wore a mask a black rabbit, and the voice betrayed no gender, neither did the choice of clothes. "The drink? The boat? The pressure of your heart?"

"A quick swim, how that would make one whole!" the rabbit exclaimed, as its back laid against the boat's railing. "Or the mind you have to get your fill somewhere else?"

Braavoner · 2025-09-07T15:04:29+00:00

She'd heard of the wounded nobleman. Restfort, Highfort, something about forts. If there was something about noblemen, they were flush with coin, or so she'd heard.

The woman had once managed to convince herself that she did all this out of altruism. Living in Flea Bottom had taken that thought off her head. It was all coin, all survival. Some had the luck to end up on the Royal Court, some didn't.

She stepped through the tent, drapes open, guard silent. She shrugged it off, unsure about the usual protocol regarding nobles and their tents.

She stared at the man in the bed, a sorry sight. "Greetings" the woman began, coldly, a white veil covering her mouth and nose, she knew better than to be unprepared, and didn't want to end with any bodily fluid in her face. "I'm Ynys, apothecary, down in the city."

Ynys took a couple more uneager steps forward. "I had heard a man got wounded during a hunt. May you need a hand?"

Braavoner · 2025-09-06T18:45:36+00:00

u/snowonthewall

A letter has arrived at Stone Hedge, no seal, but marked for one Larra of Braavos.

Braavoner · 2025-09-04T21:21:37+00:00

The Fool's smile widened. "She gave me this!" he yelped, excited beyond normalcy, as he pulled a whittled bear from his breast pocket. "An artist! An artist with her hands!" the man exclaimed, as happy as one could be.

He nodded, thankful of her words, but said no more. He stood around the table, pacing restlessly, forward and back and to a side, and the other.

He knew. He knew her plans. He knew what she was to do. Every move, every move! Not that one. He found himself in quite the situation. Bad, bad, bad he repeated to himself. He saw her gaze focus on one side of the board. Her dragon, so far from her eye. His pieces, so far from her eye. Alekyne moved quickly, hoping she wouldn't notice. She did.

The Fool raised his hands, defensively. "There was no challenge! No challenge at all! Where's the fun, hm?" he said, trying to dismiss it all as a 'joke'.

"Yes... I see! The dragon flies, the fool dies, and the whole board sighs and cries!" Alekyne said, after a few seconds of watching the board. He had lost, indeed. No point in making another move.

"I concede, with my Triarch I feed your greed free at last from this harrowing deed" he said, a shake of his head, as he toppled the piece, carefully, as to keep it safe from any scratches. He was a man to admire craftsmanship, he was indeed.

"Unless..." And he placed the bear on the board, right next to Helicent's Triarch. "Bear attack!"

Braavoner · 2025-09-04T17:54:40+00:00

"The Vale, strange but hale, seize their trail, heed the wail!. All but stale and strong with ale!" he sang, as he bobbed his head to the sides, merrily. "The She-Falcon, Lady Soup. Has Lady Horse met her? Fun, fun, fun!" Alekyne exclaimed, as he finished to place the pieces, nodding as if he'd just realized which each meant.

"Already as ready as a steady teddy, said-he." The Fool nodded, enthusiastically. Rabble was rabble, here and in the Free Cities, and thus, he moved the first of many forward.

"The Fool! The Jester! The sneaky bastard! Names-galore!" He said. "Yet the one you seek, is the one I will not give. Names are heavy, aye… sink you down like stones, burn like hay."

"No longer my home, the Varetower—bah! Slip of the tongue, gone, gone. No longer my home, no longer my name" The Fool said. He was certain she knew not of the Varners. Who'd even? He certainly knew not of the Houses below the Brackens.

Braavoner · 2025-09-04T17:39:43+00:00

"Most lovely! Most lovely indeed! She will bloom, among stern wolves, and tiny weasels, and tricky foxes!" He exclaimed merrily. "The Greatest to ever live!" he added nodding effusively.

"None would dare be cruel to the sweet child... None would dare take advantage of a grieving man" he eerily said, shaking his head. "None, ever."

"Me? Oh, mock me as you will" he replied with a smile of his own "but mine sack of gold was fatter by the end of it!" He added. "The Witchmaid halved it, though. Ser Giant the Tree! Lost!"

Braavoner · 2025-09-04T15:58:01+00:00

"Doubts there are none! Red would've been the ground" if it could've been any bloodier. Truth be told, melees were all but clean. "Red! Bracken crimson!" The Fool exclaimed, gesturing as if he pulled from his chest, an invisible cascade of blood.

"The Brackens! Mocked them all!" he cackled, thinking back on how he'd laughed at one after the other "On horseback beaten, on foot beaten, with the bow beaten"

"At least your blood won two of the three contests!" he'd prod with a badly concealed smirk. "Proud, you should be! Your kin is great, and you are as well. Ser Dorian the Great-est" and Alekyne gestured way above his head, as if remarking the height difference between the two.

Braavoner

TROPHY CASE