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maskormenacelogs2017-08-25 03:17 pm
jalan) wrote in maskormenacelogs2017-08-25 03:17 pm
Entry tags:
closed.
WHO: Daenerys Targaryen and Jon Snow
WHERE: De Chima
WHEN: Immediately!!
WHAT: Discussing charitable efforts.
WARNINGS: Terminal do gooding.
Dragon wings briefly eclipse the sun, and Drogon's landing on farm ground is heavy enough to be felt up through the soles of anyone standing near.
Practiced, and more so every day, Daenerys climbs down the slope of his wing as the dragon settles belly-flat against the earth. She is dressed for the day in pragmatic materials, something tailored for her in lieu of modern cuts and textiles, save for the sunglasses affixed to her face. Her hair is bound back into a silver braid that would make a Dothraki warrior envious, and she tugs it free of her collar as she moves towards the property itself, Drogon having given it some distance upon landing. As if curious, he follows, the spidery step over step of his wings giving his gait a lurch as he scents the air with the opening and closing of his nostrils.
Kings everywhere you turn. Between her burgeoning friendship with one and the revelation of another, whom she would count as a friend since she first arrived, her desire to move past what had so bothered her comes as this: an inquiry of interest in his pursuits, a mutual expression of mutual assistance, and then, a request to see what's been done with the place. Beyond mild approval, Daenerys has yet kept her thoughts to herself, pending judgement.
She takes off her glasses, folding them between her hands.
WHERE: De Chima
WHEN: Immediately!!
WHAT: Discussing charitable efforts.
WARNINGS: Terminal do gooding.
Dragon wings briefly eclipse the sun, and Drogon's landing on farm ground is heavy enough to be felt up through the soles of anyone standing near.
Practiced, and more so every day, Daenerys climbs down the slope of his wing as the dragon settles belly-flat against the earth. She is dressed for the day in pragmatic materials, something tailored for her in lieu of modern cuts and textiles, save for the sunglasses affixed to her face. Her hair is bound back into a silver braid that would make a Dothraki warrior envious, and she tugs it free of her collar as she moves towards the property itself, Drogon having given it some distance upon landing. As if curious, he follows, the spidery step over step of his wings giving his gait a lurch as he scents the air with the opening and closing of his nostrils.
Kings everywhere you turn. Between her burgeoning friendship with one and the revelation of another, whom she would count as a friend since she first arrived, her desire to move past what had so bothered her comes as this: an inquiry of interest in his pursuits, a mutual expression of mutual assistance, and then, a request to see what's been done with the place. Beyond mild approval, Daenerys has yet kept her thoughts to herself, pending judgement.
She takes off her glasses, folding them between her hands.