not so much pleased (introduction)

[redviperofdorne]

There is a heap of red-armored (though only lightly) man on the grass outside the Mansion, swearing a blue streak and slowly dragging himself back to his feet. He may have misjudged, just a little, and gods his face hurts. Rubbing a hand over his face, relieved to find it all in one piece, he rises into a crouch and stares at the house with ill-

Comments

[goldnhand]

Jaime is doing his new favorite thing, steadily becoming a pronounced habit: wandering around the landscape brooding. It's a skill, hey.

He's coming around the side of said house to find someone in easily recognizable armor at the door. o hai Oberyn, we were just talking about you.

Jaime looks oh so very not impressed with the :| fais and the raised eyebrow when he says, "My Lord Martell."

[goldnhand]

Jaime is a better man than to comment on that. Totally. Whatever he needs to tell himself to get through the night, really. So instead he says, "I think whether I pardon it or not has little baring upon the world at large." 'Cause, c'mon, let's be real here guys.

[redviperofdorne]

"Probably not. But the question stands."

Oberyn wouldn't be mad if you mocked his recent demise. But he might be a little irritated. And we know what irritated vipers do.

[goldnhand]

They stab you with poisoned lances.

Oh, excuse me.

Allegedly poisoned lances.

"There were words, and a wolf, but it didn't end in tears, as it were." Which isn't strictly lying, shaddup conscience.

[redviperofdorne]

Allegedly! Allegedly, please, that's very important.

"How surprising. How did you manage that?"

[goldnhand]

"Because a king is only as good as the army he has behind him. Which is still in the Seven Kingdoms, note." Something Robb did not quite learn in life, and in death... well, Jaime doesn't know, maybe he'll find out.

[redviperofdorne]

"I see." Oberyn examines him for a few moments, and then his mouth quirks in a smile. "And I'm sure you're handling all of this very well, Ser Lannister."

[goldnhand]

If it were possible for Jaime's glare to get any flatter...

He wonders if that was a pointed comment. Has he seen his hand yet? Harumph. Jaime crosses his arms at his chest, so if Oberyn hasn't, yet, well... now he has. "The same goes for you, of course, Ser Martell."

Manly man contest of posturing. Totally not a pissing contest, oh no.

[redviperofdorne]

Of course not. Would never indulge in one of those. And yes, he did notice, and yes, it probably was intentional. Oberyn is just that nice. And not in a good mood at the moment either. "Wrong title," he points out, "I have not, thankfully, ever been knighted. On the other hand," hahaha, "I do still have both of them, so that may be an advantage."

[goldnhand]

Jaime's stare is flat and unsmiling and then... it changes completely. Which is always a bad sign, but usually for him more than anyone else. We have gone from Goldenhand to Kingslayer; initiate foot-in-mouth, stat.

He shrugs, smiling pleasantly. "I suppose. Then again, a hand is a small price to pay for a beating heart, knighting notwithstanding. I suppose it's a matter of perspective." You'll have to tell me all about that being dead thing, Oberyn. 'Cause, remember? You're dead, ha-ha.

[redviperofdorne]

His eyebrows rise, just slightly, though his gaze does chill a little. "How surprising. I seem to have one still, at least as far as I'd noticed. Martells, as I believe Ser Clegane has discovered to his misfortune, are hard to kill."

[goldnhand]

Lannisters, on the other hand/nose, are difficult to keep in one piece.

"A beating heart, yes. I don't doubt it." Rabid condescension? Check. You know what he means, Oberyn.

Stop tempting me to pick up Loras D:

[redviperofdorne]

Look at that wicked eyebrow! "Was that intended to be a slight, Ser Kingslayer?" Infamous epithets? Check.

Whyyy would I ever tempt you to do that? :D

[goldnhand]

Jaime stopped being hurt by that epithet long ago, but it stings oddly anew, here; no one's called him that in days, and he'd forgotten how the old wound sat, as it were. "Prince, we are men of high houses; I do like to think we are above that." Oh, irony, old friend.

D: D: D:

[redviperofdorne]

Do eeeeeeeet

"You like to think a lot of things, I'm sure," a bit dryly, "How many of them are true?" But he backs off, a little. He doesn't really want to make enemies fresh off the boat, as it were.

...not really.

[goldnhand]

<< >> Maybe tomorrow.

Oh, yes, because the Lannisters and the Martells were always on such great terms, especially after that whole spectacufail in getting Tyrion not-arrested.

Jaime shrugs, "If you're eager to call yourself a lesser man, by all means."