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"A Game of Bones is [...] terrific reading. You must [...] read it." - George RR Martin, NYT best-selling author
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Dec 6, 2012 05:49
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"I came." - Wild Cards editor, George RR Martin
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Dec 6, 2012 06:12
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gently caress, I would do it too, if I had money to visit your filthy meth country. Aside: I need more references to throw in these chapters, godamn, light em on up.
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Dec 6, 2012 08:43
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SaviourX posted:Aside: I need more references to throw in these chapters, godamn, light em on up. This book is sorely lacking in Lady Gaga and Electric Avenue references.
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Dec 6, 2012 08:55
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In It For The Tank posted:Did you guys know that you can pay $275 to eat dinner the GRRM in the New Year? Ugh, then you'd have to watch him eat..
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Dec 6, 2012 11:08
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I like to imagine his entire jaw dislocates and emerges from his mouth like a Goblin Shark.
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Dec 6, 2012 11:35
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The dinner will feature trenchers full of GRRM's special white sauce, saved up for months for this one event.
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Dec 6, 2012 14:50
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Dinner With GRRM posted:...finish with a themed dinner featuring dishes from Martin’s “A Song of Ice and Fire” series. ...hrm.... A Wiki of Ice and Fire posted:At the wedding of Ramsay Bolton to the the fake Arya Stark, Lord Wyman Manderly asks Abel the Bard to sing about the Rat Cook after he serves three large pork pies. 
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Dec 6, 2012 14:56
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GRRM's fetish is feeding his last victim to his next one.
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Dec 6, 2012 18:30
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But if he eats them, wouldn't it just be a poo poo pie?
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Dec 7, 2012 03:45
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I... I couldn't part with Jaime after all. He'll always be the one and only Kingslayer for me.
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Dec 7, 2012 05:57
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There are no avatars like him. There is only him.
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Dec 7, 2012 13:31
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SaviourX posted:gently caress, I would do it too, if I had money to visit your filthy meth country. Im sure I could come up with some horrible ones. Just quotes or names and places too?
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Dec 8, 2012 04:12
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I made lemoncakes today. Somehow I felt enlightened. I'm not sure exactly as to what though.
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Dec 8, 2012 05:16
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Some more inspiration for those still writing their chapters (e.g. not GRRM): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RL6SveKUgbM Nine of Eight posted:I made lemoncakes today. Somehow I felt enlightened. I'm not sure exactly as to what though.
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Dec 9, 2012 03:22
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Whores go to King's Landing to receive exposition. We've known that for two silly seasons.
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Dec 9, 2012 04:14
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I have no idea how I'll sit through The Hobbit this weekend without Arwyn fisting Eowyn in the background while Gandalf explains what happened to Thorin's father.
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Dec 10, 2012 16:46
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thornghost posted:I have no idea how I'll sit through The Hobbit this weekend without Arwyn fisting Eowyn in the background while Gandalf explains what happened to Thorin's father. I have no idea how you'd sit through a three-hour long production of one-third of The Hobbit even if Arwyn was fisting Eowyn in the background. How can you satisfactorily split The Hobbit in THREE? 
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Dec 10, 2012 17:20
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Tom Bombadil is half of the first movie. I am not joking.
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Dec 10, 2012 17:27
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whowhatwhere posted:How can you satisfactorily split The Hobbit in THREE? With incredibly slow pacing. The first movie is just going to be the dwarves showing up at Bag End and ends with Bilbo deciding to go with. Roll credits.
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Dec 10, 2012 19:15
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whowhatwhere posted:I have no idea how you'd sit through a three-hour long production of one-third of The Hobbit even if Arwyn was fisting Eowyn in the background. Wow, I thought they were only splitting it in half. I guess they're going to treat the troll and goblin bits a bit more weighty than they were in the book, at least as far as I remember it.
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Dec 10, 2012 19:50
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whowhatwhere posted:I have no idea how you'd sit through a three-hour long production of one-third of The Hobbit even if Arwyn was fisting Eowyn in the background. Lots and lots of long, slow, lazy scenes of Hobbitown with light streaming through round Hobbit holes. Think "gauzy".
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Dec 10, 2012 20:50
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redshirt posted:Lots and lots of long, slow, lazy scenes of Hobbitown with light streaming through round Hobbit holes. Think "gauzy". Woah woah woah woah woah. Woah. I'm pretty sure we invented light streaming through windows. If Peter "King Kong" Jackson thinks he can get away with ripping off our best idea, he's got another thing coming.
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Dec 10, 2012 20:53
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IRQ posted:Wow, I thought they were only splitting it in half. I guess they're going to treat the troll and goblin bits a bit more weighty than they were in the book, at least as far as I remember it. The first fifty minutes are just introductions, cooking and hobbit lore. Then we get to the party scene. Now this takes quite some time because the dwarves love to reminisce about the good old days in Erebor and the horrible injustices wrought by Smaug. Talk turns to the tragedy of Khazad-Dum that left them in this state of constant diaspora. This features several flashbacks and musical numbers, filling in the corners with cakes (possibly lemon) and vast quantities of wine and ale. Finally, in the thrilling third act we see them loading the animals with provisions and it is revealed that Bilbo's pony is actually Bill's grandsire, Bill. As he makes his parting words with his wife Sheila he asks that in case he does not return and the foal she is pregnant with is male that she name him Bill. As the party walks away, sunlight streaming through the windows of the stables it is revealed in more pony conversation that Bill may not have been with Sheila during her last estrus and the lineage is uncertain. Preview edit: thanks a lot thornghost, just for that I'll have you know 27 ponies died in the making of this post.
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Dec 10, 2012 22:40
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syscall girl posted:The first fifty minutes are just introductions, cooking and hobbit lore. Then we get to the party scene. Now this takes quite some time because the dwarves love to reminisce about the good old days in Erebor and the horrible injustices wrought by Smaug. Talk turns to the tragedy of Khazad-Dum that left them in this state of constant diaspora. This features several flashbacks and musical numbers, filling in the corners with cakes (possibly lemon) and vast quantities of wine and ale. Finally, in the thrilling third act we see them loading the animals with provisions and it is revealed that Bilbo's pony is actually Bill's grandsire, Bill. As he makes his parting words with his wife Sheila he asks that in case he does not return and the foal she is pregnant with is male that she name him Bill. As the party walks away, sunlight streaming through the windows of the stables it is revealed in more pony conversation that Bill may not have been with Sheila during her last estrus and the lineage is uncertain. There is a part of me that wishes for this to be truth.
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Dec 10, 2012 23:55
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Can we stop having this circlejerk about the work and adaptations of an overrated famous fantasy author obsessed with long-winded travelogues and food descriptions and go back to discussing GRRM?
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Dec 11, 2012 04:07
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Well, it makes sense to discuss "The British GRRM" in here I suppose, at least until the next chapter of A Game of Bones is completed.
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Dec 11, 2012 04:16
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I am totes down for having the Soothern Centaurions be some major elements in GoB 2, guys. These are things that will be written. I paid for this godamn degree, and I'm gonna use it. e: Chapter 6, in a few hours. SaviourX fucked around with this message at 06:06 on Dec 11, 2012 |
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Dec 11, 2012 04:51
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KA-BLAM Longish, less ridiculous, but here we go! (Chapter 17 is on deck. That leaves 12 and 22, and 18 has two versions and is almost done.) -------------------------------------------- Chapter 6 - Kate Kate awoke to the sun streaming through her bedchamber’s massive windows. She felt an emptiness inside her as she once again turned to see an expanse of bed where her lover should have been. He was far away, sleeping beneath stone forevermore. And yet, a gnawing hunger gripped her not for food but for something, someone. She pushed it away and rose to face the day, resolute in a way that often felt false to her, but strong nevertheless. As she stood in the sun her thin nightgown hinted at a figure that was once proud, her breasts like a figurehead plowing forward through the seas of life, now a little weathered from the storms but still enough to turn a man’s head. The prime minister’s quarters were vast and well appointed, if a bit masculine for her tastes. She wanted to redecorate it in the style of Autumfall, rich reds, bright yellows and somber browns and the forest motifs and painted birds of her house that Nathyn had so graciously allowed her to bring into their home but there was no time for that now. She was on the King’s business, and perhaps if she put that to rest she could focus back on her family and their halls. Hanging her gown on the dressing shade she sat before her wash basin and sponged herself clean with the warm water the chambermaid had brought before dawn. As she rinsed the salt of the night off of her tawny skin she felt her pores tightening, her aureola pebbling up. She took a deep breath and composed herself as she pushed the hunger down again and dried herself with a rough towel. She could feel the beast clawing within her as she fought to control her breathing. It'd been caged and cowed for so long now but it was growing hungry again. And as its hunger grew, her own diminished. As its imaginings waxed stronger and stronger in her mind, and in her loins, thoughts of physical sustenance became anathema and every meal since she'd lost Nathyn was a chore. But she had much and more to do of a day as the responsibilities weighed heavily on her slender shoulders, so she dutifully dressed and walked into her salon and went to table. She ate her porridge with currants. She ate her marbled toast with salt butter and she ate her summer sausage, but only for the strength to persevere for her family. The monster inside of her however cared nothing for bread and jam, nor for eel pies or figs. It wanted none of the succulent meats and cured fish laid out before her. It longed for meat of a different kind. Gods, she thought, it had been so long. Kate said her morning prayers to the Victor and then brushed her auburn hair until it shone. She went over and over the details of Lord Protector Leyman’s tedious dispute over fishing grounds in preparation for her meeting with him in the afternoon. And when a knocking on her chamber door startled her from some mid-morning ponderings, she was happy for the interruption. “Yes, enter,” she said. Some distant, tittering girl part of herself laughed at her wording. One of her borrowed handmaids pushed wide the door, ushering in who she assumed was Lord Leyman himself, though with all the layers of plain, unembellished leather and dark hair so astray, she couldn't be sure. He looked as though he had rode hard for a day and a night, though he had been at court the entire week. He gave her a cursory smile and that was it, that devilish moustache, the glint in his eye that spoke of no little cunning, and perhaps of his prowess, if the court ladies were to be believed. “Lord Protector, greetings,” she said jovially, “I hardly recognized you. Would you like to reschedule? Go to your chambers, perhaps? ” She thought it was a kindness, but the look he gave her as she finished, crossed between disbelief and irritation, made her question her etiquette. “No. Now is fine, for all the good it will do.” He paced over to the sideboard. “Apologies. It has been a... brisk day already. You have wine, yes? May I?” Kate found herself softening somewhat. She realized she had been standing by the door, hands clasped in front of her dressing gown. “Yes. Yes, please.” She took a step, thought better of it, then took a more languorous step, letting her backbone slip. A bit of hip, a brush of hair, even if the Lord Protector wasn't paying attention, she knew how to melt men. She sat next to her table and smiled brightly. “It's not the best I could get, given these conditions. But I think we can sweeten the bitterness of this dispute a little. Can you tell me some more about it?” The man licked his lips, grunted assent. He stood looking out at the sea for a long moment. As he walked over, he had the good grace to smooth his hair back and sit crosswise from the breeze, so that his heady stink blew out into the sunlight. “My lady,” he started. “I can't pretend that you are some great negotiator, or that your husband's line are grand peacemakers. I won't bother you with this ridiculous issue. I won't ask you to try to be something you're not. And I most certainly won't let you see my true feelings towards the Bowyers and the Steerhorns and their petty loving little feud. Beg your pardon.” Kate lounged back in her chair, uncomfortable, but appearing demure. She laughed and said, “Now Lord Leyman, you can be excused some frustration. The northerners barely ever have the tact to watch what they say. Not that most northern ladies expect them too. Now, if you'll grab the flagon and bring it here, I'll at least listen to what you have to say.” He nodded, beard glistening with man-dew, bringing to mind rough boys toying and taunting at each other. Kate wasn't interested in that so much as their taut, muscular bodies as no doubt they grabbed and pinned each other, as they circled and pounced. Leyman did as asked, though a bit stiff-legged. He wasn't scowling as much when he returned, carrying the wine and another goblet. “The Bowyers,” he started in, “as you imagine, started off tending to the business of archery and hunting in my lands. However, ever eager to expand, they moved into the coastal areas of the Steerhorns some years back. They too, as you would expect, weren't into the business of fish. Theirs has always been a dark lot, though. Men tell stories of how the Steers love to make their enemies 'squeal like pigs,' whatever that might mean. Now, there's also a third party that,” he stopped, taking a particularly big gulp of wine. “You know, forget it. This mess is convoluted as it is. You have the King's ear now, true, but even if everyone comes to table or is given judgment, it just... I can't see it working.” He breathed out slow, then took another deep drink. He brushed his hair away again, exposing his fine, fine features. Kate's monster growled, and she decided to try a new tack. “My Lord, you seem very tense, even though this is just talk. Can I ask you to at least dress down? There's no need for your arms in here, where we are friends. If you'll allow me,” she reached out, touch the smooth leather on his hands. “If you won't let me counsel, at least let me comfort.” He mulled the thought over, making faces at his cup. “I suppose, though I fear I'm in need of a bath. Either that, or have my body worked over by knuckle artisans from farthest Wu.” “As it so happens,” Kate said, absently plucking at the tips of Leyman's gloves, pulling them slowly off. “A matron of mine, one of them anyway, learned a method or two from some of those very massage artists.” She stood and smoothed her skirt, refraining from tugging a non-existent braid. Leyman gave her a curious look, then reached for the straps and buckles that kept him so shielded from the world. Kate beamed inside, however small this progress was. Maybe she was not so old yet. Just more refined, more... mature. As he loosened his armor, she thought of what oils she had on hand. There was plenty of seal pup, more than enough to go around, as it was both northern delicacy and useful relaxant. There were some vials of southern horsewood, known for its uses with virility. And then there was the tiny bit of 'tiger's tile', from the far reaches of Wu. Was it time? Could she be forgiven by Nathyn? Leyman kept his soiled doublet on, looking more nervous than angry now. His arms bulged. Kate made her choice. “Please, continue, sir.” She said, as she went to get the oil. “We can't, well we can't do this halfways. No no, as in Wu, you must get down to your small-clothes, or as they have a saying, 'drop zem draws, hit zem flaws'.” “My lady, I hardly doubt-” “No, I insist. This is my chamber, be assured it's fully my discretion. If you please.” She motioned. He stood and took off his doublet and shirt and Kate fought the urge to look away, though she did stifle a gasp. “What else would you have me do, erm, my lady?” The man said, fumbling with his boots and breeches. If physically perfect was a vision of the Victor himself, Leyman would be close behind, sharing the company of few men. It took Kate a moment to reposition. “We need to set you on a relaxing board, though I don't have one. The mattresses are too soft, so it will have to be the table. I will place some cushions. You may continue with your troubles, if you like. I will listen.” She left the oil and set up the table, clearing it and laying it out as best she could. She made no promises about its suitability, but motioned to it, anyway. “We can start with the sorest areas. Sitting or lying.” Leyman thought for a second, then promptly prostrated himself, face hanging over the edge, a hardened, but sweaty mass. “It's court really, my lady. I miss being back by the sea. The daily rides to the wharves, going out on skiffs when needed, playing 'catch the deadliest' with the lads. My home is master of my heart. Gods, listen to me.” “Go on. I miss hearing of adventures.” Kate leaned over, trying not to lick her lips. She opened the bottle of Wu oil and sniffed. A strong herbal scent came out, rich, sticky, and green. It was to be used sparingly, but there was only enough left for one man. It would do nicely. She started with his broad shoulders and thick neck, diving right in, working carefully, but not playing about. “I understand my duties here, but, oh, gods. Ahhh. There's just nothing like the salt and sea breeze that, oh my lady, that, drat.” “Breathe through it,” was all Kate had to say. “You are not half bad. At any rate, we live off the ocean and the rivers that feed it, so I understand its import, but these lords protest too much, ask too much, and share so little. Oh, that's good. I haven't, ow, been able to move that arm too well lately. Oh!” Kate smiled. She moved on down to his back, but leaned over top him on purpose. For her modest dress, she still had a bust going, and here it caressed by his ribs, brushing his sides. She held her breath, but he did not recoil in propriety. The oil filled the air, lighting her senses up. Between her legs felt lit up as well. “Your skills are amazing, and I thought you had been such a, unhh, kept woman, before. I swear, if more men here took to delights such as these, there wouldn't be so much ruckus about the small stuff. Myself included, I suppose.” He sounded sheepish. “I don't think my hands could work that much. Even with the help of several others, we would be busy for months alone just with your feuding lords!” She hoped that wasn't over the line. Leyman chuckled at that, and she felt relieved. Relieved and very, very warmed by the sight of his rippling frame. She finished up his legs, down to the calves. “Turn about, please.” He obliged her, but a bit slowly. She moved over by his head, noticing he seemed more flush. His hands fluttered, and she saw him adjusting his breechclout. She tried not to laugh and merely propped his head up, worked at his neck. Things were silent a moment. “My lady, maybe I should-” “Not at all. This is quite, you've got a fine, well,” and before she knew it, her hands were gliding down his chest, not working, just feeling. He spoke quietly, his face right next to her side. “You would like me to stay?” “By the Voracious, yes.” Then one of his arms reached up, was at her side, trying to move her closer, closer to his thick body. She stepped over, so her hip caressed his cheek, and his hand could grab at her gown, press her flesh. Trying to maintain a bit of her practice, she rubbed at his chest and belly, trying not to look directly at his bulging cloth. “You smell just as I imagine a warm brook surrounded by blossoms in the north might,” Leyman managed. “And if you would permit-” Kate shushed him. “Now Thayor, enough. This brook is all yours.” And with that, she practically launched herself onto the table, swinging one still-shapely leg over his face and neck, letting the gown cover him. She grabbed at the clout, made a fist, and heard him gasp. Good. She worked his cock from there, feeling him jump and bounce under her, barely making a sound except for his sharp breaths. For a moment he didn't move, just taking it all in. “My lord, please. I have been alone so long. Please,” she said, and swayed her mound at him, above his face. Thankfully, he found himself and gripped her legs tight, pulling at the tie on her underthings. She groped at his lean, taut legs and found the tiger's tile still potent on his skin. He folded his arms about the small of her back and pushed her oval office-first down toward his face. A few licks followed and she nearly burst out with laughter, but caught herself. She followed quickly with a genuine moan. He was probing, uncertain, but oh gods, anything was welcome. Off came his wrapping, and, eyes wide with surprise, Kate took his entire girth in her mouth. She rubbed at him with one hand, licking and sucking along. Behind and below, Leyman tried to stay focused on her nub and yearning fuckhome, trying to lap eagerly while groaning in delight. They slurped at each other, the heady plant scent surrounding them until Leyman used his strong hands to lift her for a moment. “Kate. My lady, quick. Quick, please...” She looked back and gave him a long lick down the shaft. “What?” “I want. Can we.” She stroked him quick and writhed in his arms. “Yes?” “Ride. Ride me, oh gods.” “Of course, my Lord Protector,” she said, giving a wink. Folding her legs up and under her, moving over his body, hovering her oval office just over his commendable size. She took one hand to guide it, but brushed it instead, teasing at her hole. “I never thought we would be this good of friends. It pleases me. Does it please you?” He made some garbled noise. “Well?” “Yes,” he panted. Then she slid all the way down, feeling him push at her, firmly parting her likes waves of grain. They hosed against the table hard, the wood creaking more and more. Leyman grabbed her hips a while later and nearly spun her around, so her breasts and hair came swinging about, her face wrought with pleasure. He thrust with vigor, while she controlled things, letting his cock out every now and then to drive him wild. They kept on until she reached her peak, letting everything out into tingly whiteness. Then she rode him, sliding in and out as she recalled men liking, and he soon gave in, releasing a shower against her furry mound as she felt him spasm. They heaved against the table and the cushions that remained. Leyman was in danger of passing out, so Kate got up over him, kissed him, then started to clean up. He looked embarrassed as he dressed, picking up the pieces of his kit. “Lord Leyman,” Kate started, looking him right in the eyes. “This can just be our time. I wanted to do it. It's quite alright.” “I know. My lady. You've given me some relief, it's true.” “Good, then. Perhaps we can be of use to each other more often.” He smiled, a young, boyish, shy smile. “At least I can face those others with a little less weight upon me.” Kate looked up, thought for a moment, then said: “You know, I have heard it said that many of your lands have been exchanged by intermarriage, and that most of your women are more responsible than the men when it comes to arranging things. Maybe you're talking to the wrong people?” Leyman eyed her closely. “Yes. Something to think about, I suppose.” Kate smiled, then gave a squeak when a knock came at the door. “Oh drat, other business. It must be later than I thought. Lord Leyman,” she nodded. Then, quickly, she went over and kissed his scruffy cheek. “My lady,” he said, and they went to the door. A handmaid was there with a messenger and a list of appointments. The Lord Protector put on his stern face and marched out. Kate saw to her other duties, looking over the lists of impatient lords that were trying to reach the ear of the king. Some of them she knew. Some she had seen likely seen in court. Most probably had some secret or... tension that she could ease somehow. Her hunger still lingered. She would have to restock some oils.
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Dec 11, 2012 09:16
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OMG. Is the finish line actually in sight?
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Dec 11, 2012 09:21
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All this talk of the Hobbit makes me wonder what Tolkien would think of GRMM's books had he lived long enough to read them. It's probably for the best that we'll never know.
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Dec 11, 2012 09:24
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That was well wrought, SX. Thanks for leaving my 500 or so words in.
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Dec 11, 2012 10:03
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Vigilance posted:All this talk of the Hobbit makes me wonder what Tolkien would think of GRMM's books had he lived long enough to read them. It's probably for the best that we'll never know. "This bozo took the basic tenets of fantasy and made it all about rape, incest, and disturbingly long scenes of pedophilia and dwarf/prostitute sex. And he took out half the racism and xenophobia! This poo poo sucks!" - JRR Tolkien's ghost
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Dec 11, 2012 10:15
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"Also, that scrub has no children to carry on his mighty legacy, what a fool!"
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Dec 11, 2012 20:51
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Any thoughts on if we will see Uncle Benjen again? I figure if he is an Other, he will make an appearance just to freak people out and not many characters stay dead.
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Dec 11, 2012 21:58
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Benjen is in fact Coldhands. It turns out Coldhands is actually a Dread Pirate Roberts thing, which is why the elf said he's very old.SaviourX posted:"Also, that scrub has no children to carry on his mighty legacy, what a fool!"
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Dec 11, 2012 22:03
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Urdnot Fire posted:Benjen is in fact Coldhands. It turns out Coldhands is actually a Dread Pirate Roberts thing, which is why the elf said he's very old. I guess that would work. Bran didn't see Coldhands' face, so we haven't had an identification other than his hands. Thanks
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Dec 11, 2012 22:10
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SaviourX posted:KA-BLAM Go, SaviorX, go! We're now at 44,163 magnificent words. That's 176 pages manuscript! I'll update the list of completed chapters.
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Dec 11, 2012 22:58
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Urdnot Fire posted:Benjen is in fact Coldhands. It turns out Coldhands is actually a Dread Pirate Roberts thing, which is why the elf said he's very old. Will he show Ty his things?
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Dec 11, 2012 23:05
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Thulsa Doom posted:Will he show Ty his things?
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Dec 11, 2012 23:06
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