Give me a character & i'll give you a sample of how i'd play them.

        ’ i would much prefer to call my brother lucky,

                    it is not every day that a tyrell finds themselves betrothed        to such an eligible companion. odd, perhaps                            … but i am certain he feels most LUCKY                             to wed her grace. mayhaps it is becoming a trend,             however, for i had certainly never thought                                             to be given the chance to love a                                  true king, lest not so closely.’

           ’ lucky, perhaps, yes.

                the tyrells have had quite the stroke of luck in                  recent times. you were, after all, married to                 a known generate. i cannot bare to imagine                 the anguish you must have faced. ‘ 

        ❝ — Fortunate it is then, that you share not  that of which fate has cast unto I. Death however I fear lingers  yet far off in regards to myself; and to you as well.            Though advise you I would to not cast so much favor unto Ser Meryn;        a sellsword could well best the man with ease— should it come to time        in which your life stands in jeopardy— Ser Balon Swann would prove        a    w i s e r   option.❞                          Ser Meryn would not    d  a  r   e   risk the chance                         that still skill remained to me, despite the maiming.                         It is reputation alone which dismisses his thoughts                          of   c h a l l e n g i n g     I.

             ❝ Ser Balon, hmm? 

                Perhaps you are right, Uncle Jaime, but if you recall: it is                 the duty of the Hand, alone, to advise me. Unless you are                 interested in challenging Lord Tywin for the title, I would                 ADVISE that you respect my decisions in regards to loyalty. ❞

                            Sense, clearly, had been crippled by pride in their                 fruitless discussion     more plentifully riddled in cheap swipes                 than by wit.

                 ‘ i have not,

     your grace. buti am certain it is of irrefutable          interest, & i would be most pleased                     should you choose to show me                   what you speak of. ’

        ' mm yes,

                    irrefutable, indeed. the beginnings               of the wedding plans for your dear             brother & the queen regent, cersei.

                        an odd match, wouldn't you agree? '

     C astiel has always been one of humanity.          It is intriguing to the angel the ways of man.          So he watches, the strong, the weak and all          who fall in between.

     H e has come to find those who are smaller        have a steadier punch, their attitude fiery.         Yet the little muscle they have makes such        punches as fierce as a small child’s smack. 

     T he stronger strut. confidence in their step.         It’s but a farce for the weakness he’s come         to see. This one so far he’s noted no difference. 

         B lue eyes watch. Not caring for the clothing             he wears that matches not the date of this             era. He sees no reason as to why he should.

         As disdainswells     though vapid his complaints     prudence is nigh             lost: slipping from the already fickle grasp between finger & thumb. A             KING is never wrong, though, his guards are told (though advice is received              in the bitterest contempt, for they of all men know better.)

            A true king might know better than to JUT his hip in self-assurance before             any man who holds the power (but not the authority) to slice from belly to             throat, but it is what the young monarch does regardless. Though, asinine              griping is halted only at the barbaric boom of Ser Balon, calling out a rather             peculiar addition to the Kingsguard, clad in ill-suiting garb not even fit for a             peasant.                        Arms were soon upon him. 

       The question of punishing the knights who stand guard at the door          would serve a later hour; perhaps Lord Tywin could deal with it, as tedious          and rather mundane chores seemed to fit quite well with his stoic calm.          Joffrey however, could not give a single care to whom will be getting the lash,          but rather, as he prays on the piece of MEAT in feline fervour, he responds          only to the rather blank eyes in the other man's skull.  

                                     ' How did you get in here, plebeian?                                   my KIngsguard may be fools, but you don't                             strike me as anything more. '

               ' oh?

                and you believed this was a message worthy                 enough to come straight to the king with? '