[hider=The Rogue Pair]

[hider=Seyzen]
[color=Pink]
Seyzen
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[color=Pink]Age:[/color] 52 (11 BC)

[color=Pink]Appearance:[/color]
[img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1015883418506109019/1099064026434117642/latest.png[/img]
A tall man, he is often seen with pale windswept short hair and a handsome face. Dark eyes and tanned skin. Though his appearance changes often.

[color=Pink]Description & biography:[/color] There isn't really a place to tell where Seyz began his life. Perhaps he was a nobleman's bastard son, an orphan of traveling performers, or maybe a pirate's get from Lys. Seyzen though found himself on steps that led to black and white doors, found himself training to be no one. He had been young then, perhaps a boy of fourteen or so. He learned how to use the secret poison just as he learned the different weapons. Staff, sword, dagger, bow being a few of them. It was his daggers that he excelled with, those and that sweet poison that made death the final sleep. The greeting of the Stranger. One of the Faceless Men.

In truth, Seyzen was one of the many orphans from the mercenary bands that roamed the Three Cities. His father was an exile from the Vale and his mother a whore who he had favored, perhaps even loved, until he was slain. The woman took another man and Seyzen became one of the many children about the camp at around the age of ten. Two years later he was forced to journey with one of the Faceless Men after his mother bought the death of one of the band's quarter master. The man had killed Seyzen's older sister and the leader would do nothing about it. So Seyzen was the price for justice. He did not mind, it was a fair cost for he too wanted revenge and this would grant him a better life than what his mother could give him. That had been when he was fourteen.

When he was six and thirty, he screwed up. Seyzen knew he had. For years he denied himself the pleasures men could find. Drink, drugs, the wiles of men and women, the feel of wealth. For what was it worth when death came for someone? He had been a good assassin and priest of the ManyFaced God. But then he met Vorsha, a Lyseni woman and she plied him with all the pleasures of the world. They were nothing to him, or they should have been. He was there to bring her the gift of the ManyFaced God, but Vorsha had sunken hooks into him. For years ago when Seyzen had been someone, a boy with another name, he had been too fond of drink and drug. It dulled the pains of hunger and the pain of beatings met out by the mercenaries. He slew Vorsha, but not with the gift of sleep. A dagger across her throat then he fled the whore house where she worked stealing away her trove of jewels, drinks, drugs, and her servant.

Since then he trained the servant, a young girl who he called Surreal, for through the haze of his withdrawal and recovery she had remained by his side. He taught her the ways to fight and kill. How to burglar a house and steal valuable trinkets as well as secrets. Theirs was not a partnership. Seyzen was the master and she the apprentice and servant. When a man's skills could not get him in somewhere, Surreal's womanly whiles were employed. He cared for the girl in the sense that a man cared for a good hound or horse. A tool to be used or a pet. He wandered from Lys across the Stepstones and Three Cities for a few years before making his way into Dorne and up through Westeros. It had taken him four years to kick the use of drugs, but drink and good company still held sway over the man. He had thought to return to the House of Black and White and entertains it, but with trouble stirring in Westeros and that damnable need for the poison that would make the world surreal once more? He is worried he would lay down and sleep, letting the candles soothe him into the final gift.
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[hider=Surreal]
[color=Red]
Melissa Blackwood
|| Surreal ||
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[color=Red]Age:[/color] 24 (19AC)

[color=Red]Appearance:[/color]
[img]https://avatars.mds.yandex.net/i?id=2ba3d43346297ce0fc51b853ef94f69d026580fc-7012004-images-thumbs&n=13[/img]
A slight woman of small stature, Surreal isn't the sort to take on someone straight on. Her body is scarred from the years since she was taken from her family. A sharp face with lively green eyes and short red hair, she longs to grow it secretly, but long hair isn't tolerated by Seyzen. Perhaps she could be charming with her dimples and curls, but Surreal has seen too much. A wine-colored birthmark covers her shoulder like a pauldron, something she keeps hidden.

[color=Red]Description & biography:[/color] [i]"I don't really know who I am. I remember pain and screaming, wetness and red coating my hands as I was torn away from my mother who grew cold. A bag of coins passing over my head. That's been my life, coins passing over my head while I did as I was bid."[/i]

A scion of House Blackwood, her mother had been visiting family in the Riverlands while her father remained at Raventree Hall. Not that Melissa Blackwood could recall that. Those memories of so long ago were drowned in the following years of terror and pain. Her mother's escort was attacked and they were wrapped in ropes and hauled across the land, passed over to men on ships. It would have been an adventure if the child had not known her mother's fear and pain. It was then days and nights blurred. All Melissa could recall of her mother was a cold body and red blood while she was shoved into the hands of men who took her off a ship and into a place of beauty.

Beauty that was a lie.

She was a servant then, a slave to Vorsha. A pleasure slave of Lys, who charmed men with promises that they were her only lover. A falsity that all seemed to accept. Mellisa spent several years with the woman and learned how to listen to the secrets and how not to listen. Her old life was stripped away and she felt those precious memories of a family fading. The beauty of Lys was a lie and there were only false smiles and pain behind what the painted walls and silk as far as Melissa saw. The girl though also saw blood. Vorsha had been seeing a handsome blonde noble man, a new customer who had taken eagerly to the pleasures she offered. He had spent weeks lounging about Lys, and Vorsha had begun to worry that she had overdone things, something Melissa could tell the woman she had a tendency to do. Melissa had the bruises of Vorsha's fan to prove it, but when she withdrew the drink and drug so suddenly? The man had turned violent and Melissa could not ignore the screams that had come from Vorsha's parlor. Finding the man standing there with a knife and Vorsha's blood staining the silk and white marble? It was again the passing of coins overhead while a body grew cold and she was spirited away.

This time it was not to a plush life among silk. She had never thought that life plush but now she did. Gods how she missed it. The man had stolen them away to the Free Cities where back alley taverns and alleys themselves became dens where they could sleep and food was what they could steal. The wealth that Seyzen, as the man called himself, stole was spent on drink and drug. With new languages to learn and unable to ply any sort of trade, the girl remained with the man. Dangerous as he was with his rages for more drugs and drink. She stole him food and drink and suffered with him as he broke free of the drugs which he did.

He named her Surreal, not even asking her for a name she had almost forgotten. A name she did forget as Seyzen began to train her in the art of languages, customs and his art of thievery and murder. Failure was not tolerated, and consequences were severe. Surreal learned quickly how to use bow, daggers, staves and- when they travelled through Dorne- spears. He taught her of the Faceless Men and how to be no one, a training as ruthless as anything Seyzen himself had gone through. An apprentice to Seyz, she learned under the man. Followed after him like a loyal dog and took his orders. There was nothing else to do after all. Seyzen was the one who knew what they were doing, where they were going. She just was a tool to further his end.
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