STATUS:
Lets change this status for once. Still always down for potter stories, but branching out! Started a new year with a new writing journey. Should be interesting.
3 yrs ago
Current
Lets change this status for once. Still always down for potter stories, but branching out! Started a new year with a new writing journey. Should be interesting.
2
likes
6 yrs ago
I'm sort of an addict for Harry Potter. If you ever want to do an RP... I will be down almost 99% of the time. :D
8 yrs ago
RIP Alan Rickman, best actor for the best character.
Hey Squash! One of the easier things to do I found was to go to the CS post of someone and then at the top right there's a 'raw' button. That will basically copy a fully coded copy of their CS and then you can just edit your character stuff in, instead of theirs.
Afternoon Flirtations [Present time for Gwen flashback for Ashton]
Arranging to find Beylee and Sasja wasn’t that hard. Sasja Reed was a small thing and very pretty. She’d be where Beylee was, attempting to talk Mathias into them squiring for him. Gwendolyn rolled her shoulders anticipating that Beylee was going to annoy her till her temper flashed. Looking around and not seeing Luci or Quinn right away Gwendolyn sighed and thought they had gone to lay down for a nap much like their Uncle was doing at present.
Catching sight of a page Gwendolyn beckoned him over. “Have you seen Lady Beylee or Lady Sasja recently?" She smiled as he nodded.
“I ‘ave. They be o’er at th’ lists wi’ th’ gian’ in fur." His accent was thick and utterly adorable.
“My thanks." Gwendolyn handed the boy a groat and he grinned while running off.
Sighing, Gwendolyn knew that she’d have to go get the girls. If she remembered correctly, which she almost always did, then she'd have to go past the Redwyne Pavillion again. While part of her did want to stop in and enjoy herself more she knew it would disappoint her Uncle. Disappointment and or disapproval was far worse than him being upset at her. Swiftly walking in the direction she needed to go, Gwendolyn made her way to the lists in between tents. Picking up her skirts she dashed looking in between tents in case Beylee and Sasja had given up on nagging Mathias.
Seven hells, why were there so many pavilions strong? Barely did Ashton manage to jump and dodge the variety of straps and ropes all tying down fabric of all colors. He needed a break. He had traversed these tents many times already, having been at Summerhall for some time already and being present when the first tent came up. But everyday now more and more added to the flood of color on the grounds.
Stumbling, much like he had earlier near the lists he looked for feet and giggles but he heard nothing, it was his own clumsiness. Luckily he was able to keep his feet, a testament to his training, but his head was still spinning as he mentally tried to remember his shortcuts through the maze.
Sighing, and with great internal strife, Ash turned to continue on his way toward his 'secret spot' which was little more than a tucked away hill where he liked to watch the sun set and relax for a small moment or two before he got to work on getting things prepared for the next day.
She had barreled into someone. Of all the luck trying to catch a glimpse of either of the cousins. This is what she gets for being even close to disobedience. Not to put too fine a point on it but she was in between tents and no one would check back here for a while. She had turned a corner and ran right into a solid wall of muscle.
Gwendolyn's breath left her in a rush as she tripped and was on her way to the ground. She was going to hit hard when suddenly a solid pair of arms wrapped around her and her descent to the ground was halted.
There was a soft 'oof' followed by a quick inhale and gasp as Ashton realized someone had just run straight into him. And judging by the dress it was a Lady. "Oh! By the Seven, are you quite alright?" Ash exclaimed as he suddenly had a five foot ten woman in his arms, preventing her fall. It wasn't every day when a woman would just sort of fall into your lap, or arms in this case, and it never happened to Ash. In fact he was quite positive he had never even dreamed of such a scenario happening. His younger brother perhaps had, but that was because he was in Essos.
"Um." He looked around to see if anyone was watching and raised an eyebrow. When he was certain she wasn't going to fall and he couod habdle her weight he chuckled. "Got to watch that rope there. Whoever put that tent up decided to use way more ropes than was needed. I'm Ashton by the way, Ashton Hightower."
Gwendolyn stifled a giggle as she sat up and looked up and up and up at Ashton. “Pleased to make your acquaintance My Lord or is it Ser Hightower? Excuse my lack of a curtsy but I find it rather difficult to curtsy while being held. I’m Gewndolyn Carmyne." She smiled up at him.
Automatically, Ash straightened and pulled her up with him to her feet while smiling. “Just Ashton or Ash. I’m the third born and still a squire so i'm not really anything important.” He shrugged off any remaining awkwardness and finally got a look at the person he ran into. His cheeks were burning a bit as he did so, embarrassment now taking the place of awkwardness. “I er- hope that you’re enjoying the uh." He looked around again, finding the words to describe the busy pavilions. “Uh, city of tents?"
Gwendolyn brushed off her dress and shook out his skirts. “It rather seems like a city doesn’t it? Well Ash you can call me Gwen. A squire is still something." She tapped her lip. He sounded like he was a poor sheltered lad. Accidents happen because Ashton definitely wasn’t capable of having engineered their meeting. She needed to put him at ease.
“A city without a repository of knowledge is such a shame. I suppose that a tent city is too fleeting to include one of those. But such is the price we pay for watching men bash each other on horseback with sticks. Skills used in war made to entertain." Gwendolyn shook her head, her hair swaying back and forth. She itched for a comb, she was sure there was something in her hair; a piece of grass, a twig something. Rather than dancing about like a rasher of bacon being cooked she stayed still. “Oh I’m sorry I just insulted what you’re working toward in life. I didn’t mean… oh bother."
"Gwen it is then." His goofy smile widened a bit as he rhymed and then shrugged as she mentioned that he was at least something. "I suppose I really can't complain, I was lucky enough to be born into the family I was and to be trained."
As she spoke he found himself nodding along with her and quickly put out his hands and shook them in a rapid gesture of negative. "No, no you're right. I've always found the tourneys to be weird. They're nothing like real combat, but all you can do is train and try and prepare as best as you can. I see it, if anything, as a way to meet new Knights and a very good opportunity to learn. From them, my defeats, my victories. Everything."
He realized he was talking. A lot. And the Hightower had to blink at that. He never spoke like this to anyone, let alone a relative stranger. But, his filter was gone. "You should come to Oldtown. It has a rich history and the Citadel is one of the greatest areas of education in the 7 kingdoms. You may be too pretty for it though." He smiled as he said it but when his brain caught up to his words the smile became one of embarrassed horror.
Gwen raised an eyebrow. “You think I’m pretty? And what am I too pretty for?" She smiled at him, teasing him. He was endearing.
Sputtering a bit, Ash quickly tried to explain. "Oh! I just meant that you'd be the prettiest Maester or uh, scholar there. And that it would be a shame that no one else got to see it since you'd be inside and reading all the time like my brother Leo." The lad had no idea that he was being messed with, the poor squire was entirely out of his depth and was feeling the rush of adrenaline. "So, what exactly were you doing running through the tents instead of the perfectly good worn travel path out there? Are you also an introvert who despises social interaction?"
Gwen smiled at Ashton. “Well you see I was on my way to find my cousins. So I really needed to find them, but I didn’t want to be obvious because I didn’t want to wait for an escort. Unless you’d like to escort me? Older or younger brother? You don’t enjoy reading? What about riding?"
The questions came in rapidly and Ash barely could prepare one answer before the next question was fired. He let her finish and then attempted to go one by one. "I hate reading, or at least normal reading. I struggled as a child so the Grand Maester developed a way for me to read as I trained. He called it a sort of meditation. As for your escort, I will be delighted my Lady and do so solemnly swear that you will not run into anyone else on my watch. As for riding, I do plenty of it here with my Knight, Ser Ryon Dayne, the Sword of the Morning. Oh, and older, I'm the third born son. I'm only older than my youngest sibling, my brother Gerold. My twin doesn't count." As he finished speaking he was heading off towards the lists.
Gwen walked with Ashton in the direction she was hoping to go. At least she remembered from the walk-about she had done with her Aunties. “It must be nice having siblings. I had one but he and my mother died when he was born. And with me being the oldest they sent me to my grandmother’s family, the Starks. Ser Ryon Dayne is your Knight? Only the best of House Dayne carry the title. You must be proud of your Knight. Tell me does he win tournaments often? I should think that if I bet on him that I could see a great return. Do you think he’ll win? If he does not, whom do you think will? Does he carry a Valyrian steel blade? I would like to see another at some point and compare it to Ice."
Looking over at him as she followed. Gwen had noticed the sword, rather hard not to when she was positively itching to test it out, and this was a ploy to see it without coming out and saying that she’d like to see it. Southern men didn’t like women that were ‘too’ interested in blades, or bows, or anything that didn’t fit in their ‘women’s things’ box. Box ha. More like thimble. She would also need to be careful. As Heir to a house she would need to make a solid decision on whom to marry or her Uncles would do it for her. That much was evidenced by her Uncle’s comments this afternoon.
Glancing up at the sky Gwen noticed that it was probably about a quarter of an hour since she left the Stark tent. She’d better hurry or someone would come looking for her and Beylee and Sasja. If they were with Mathias it was not an issue but Ashe… by the Seven that boy. She still remembered the time he tied a stick to a goat’s forehead and called it a unicorn then ran it around the courtyard. Uncle was furious but he couldn’t hide the twinkle of laughter in his eye. She smiled widely flashing her dimples at Ashton, she knew it would make it easier for her to get her hands on the sword. She didn’t want to take it, she just wanted to see it.
The more excited Gwen seemed to get Ashton matched equally and he answered her questions easily. "I'm sorry about your mother and brother, and yes Ryon is my Knight and also the best in my own opinion. I suppose I'm slightly biased but I trust him unconditionally and am proud. As for tournaments, he's not showy so he doesn't enter them all the time, just enough to get some practice in. We've had to deal with bandits though and of course tensions have been rising on the borders. I hope to be like him and the Dragonknight, that's my goal anyway. Pretty lofty sure, but shouldn't goals be lofty?"
As the conversation moved to swords, Ash couldn't help but look to Vigilance. He smiled a bit and even as she was talking took it and respectfully offered it to her. "This isn't as storied as Dawn but is still Valyrian steel. This is Vigilance, the Sword of the Tower." Ashton wasn't like most Southern lords, a fact that he had been aware of most of his life. He was happy to see someone enjoy quality craftsmanship. He wasn't concerned she would go out and steal it, or hurt herself as she seemed quite capable. When she smiled at him, his stomach did a backflip and he gave an exaggerated swallow while his eyes widened. He had already been handing the sword over so all it served to do was knock the poor boy off his feet. This time, luckily, not literally.
Taking Vigilance from Ashton she treated it with the reverence it deserved. Taking a good look at it Gwen noted that this was an amazing sword. "Thank you. It's beautiful." She stepped closer. Ashton was harmless, he was a gentleman. Not that it was bad or wrong but rather boring. But boring was fine. Boring, she had the upper hand.
Gwen reached out and grabbed the sheath at his hip to the sword. She fitted the sword in and slowly stepped closer as she simultaneously slowly slid the sword back into the sheath. Her lavender gray eyes sparkled with mischief and excitement.
Ash was no stranger to court, he had been plenty of times and had watched his father countless times. He knew about the game but was probably one of the most abysmal players of that game in Westeros. Mostly because he didn't care. He had no ambitions other than to be the absolute best swordsman he could be and to strive to the tenants of knighthood. Girls however, scared him. Not his twin, she didn't count and now standing here with Gwen, Ash was entirely under her power and he knew it. As she stepped closer, Ash held in his next breath and looked down to her. He didn't have to look down much, being only a few inches taller than she, which he found he liked.
Eventually he croaked out. "Thank you. So are you." He smiled then, his brain not exactly functioning correctly. There seemed to be some sort of interference.
That warm smile bubbled up and Gwen blushed at the compliment. "Thank you. You're not bad yourself." She attempted to keep it light and fun. "I should let go of the sword and step back…" Stating the obvious as she watched Ashton. "Blue. Like the sky on a clear day." She murmured about his eyes.
Ash was hooked and he couldn't help but blush as well. "Guess training pays off…" He considered for a few moments and thought about what his older brother once said about women. 'Don't think, just do. If you try and think you'll screw everything up like you usually do.' And so, Ash didn't think. As she murmured about his eyes and before she could actually step back, whether she ever intended to or not, Ash closed the short distance and went to kiss her quickly.
The kiss came as a surprise and Gwen gave a little sound of surprise as Ashton kissed her. She had never been kissed before. His lips were soft and warm. Letting go of the sword fully, her hands found his sides. She didn't know what to do. No one mentioned what you're supposed to do now. This wasn't covered in a book or lesson that a Maester had given her.
Were bells ringing somewhere? Or perhaps lightning had struck him. Ashton wasn't sure but his first kiss had surely sent the Hightower into a shock. His skin filled with gooseflesh and heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. He had closed his eyes but opened them, irises widening as he felt her hands on his sides. He wasn't sure what to do next and his rational brain started sending all the what ifs. He leaned into the kiss just a moment before breaking it and looking at her. "I… sorry. I-..."
Blinking Gwen looked at Ashton in a bit of a haze. "Sorry? Sorry!" Her lavender gray eyes snapped with temper. "Of all the things to say to a girl after her first kiss you picked 'Sorry'?! Why did you do it then?"
Blinking, Ashton opened his mouth to speak before closing it again even as a perplexed expression shot across his face. "I-er. I only meant… I should have…" Wincing. He realized big brother was right, thinking only resulted in him looking stupid. "I'm not sorry actually… I just felt like I should've apologized for just randomly kissing you, but I'm not. Honestly, I think that was the first time I did something outside of the practice field without regretting it. And I'd like to do it again."
Gwen blushed and touched her mouth, her temper falling away. "Oh… again? I…" Now she didn't know what to say.
"You certainly don't have to. You seem to be quite intelligent. But you have the final say, and I'll respect whatever decision you make." He glanced over toward their path to the lists and was glad that it at least appeared to be empty.
Ashton was giving her time to think. Gwen appreciated the time normally but she found in this situation she didn't want time to think. That scared her. She took a step back. "While I wouldn't mind, I think not having been caught by anyone the first time is pressing our luck after that." She blushed deeply. "My Uncle, Brandon Stark, will not be pleased if he finds out. Nor any of my male relations. I'd rather they didn't for your sake."
Ash nodded slightly and sighed softly. He had a feeling that he had enjoyed the moment a bit more than she and while it may have been just because of the wine he recognized his position and an honest retreat was needed. "I suppose you are right, My Lady. It wouldn't do for either of us to be the talking points of gossip tomorrow morning. Please, allow me to continue my escort of the Lady to the lists." He offered his arm and straightened fully while offering a small smile. "And I thank you greatly for the small sliver of time I managed to have with you."
Biting her lip Gwen reached out. Ashton pulled away from her and that hurt. Perhaps her meager attempt at protecting him was not what he wanted. Violence because of her behavior was not something she was keen to witness. She was trained to protect herself and while she knew she didn't have to rely on others it was nice to have someone offer to be there. She curled her hand into a fist then relaxed it. "You have my gratitude My Lord." She curtsied and put her hand lightly on his arm as propriety dictated. "I would have it last at least a while longer."
As Gwen reached out Ashton sighed and gave her a soft smile. "I'm not the best at this, and I'm afraid that I'm not exactly your type anyway, not that I know you have one. I just… I REALLY like you, and I hardly know you. And I'm afraid because of it. I don't trust my own actions or emotions. Please don't think less of me for it. And the last thing I want to do is to cause you any distress or grievances with your family." His eyes were soft and clouded with confusion, curiosity, and a small bit of longing.
As they walked to the lists Gwen replied. “As you stated we hardly know each other. I don’t think less of you Ashton. Truly you have risen in my estimation. You could have ignored your gentlemanly behavior and blamed it on myself for being there. Truly this gladdens my heart and do you want to know a secret?" She leaned in to whisper to Ashton.
With a raise of his eyebrow, Ash listened and walked. He was careful this time, not wanting to fall AGAIN as that seemed to be something that was becoming a habit. "I suppose secrets are to be shared by those who can trust each other… I can trust you?" He looked at her then, his eyes now searching and seeking with their glint, sunlight just catching his face.
Tilting her head Gwen didn’t flinch from the question. “I am willing to be the one to share my secret. I do not need one in return." She smirked and paused them in their walk. “No you’re right I do need one in return. However I will collect it at another time. I enjoyed our kiss more than you think."
Grinning, she let go of his arm and winked at him over her shoulder, tossing back at him. “Am I escorting you or are you escorting me?"
There was a distinct lack of any mention of trust. And yet, Ash couldn't help but be drawn in. The promise of another meeting both exhilarated and terrified the Squire. "I am glad that I did not make a fool of myself then. As for the escort, I made a vow to see you safely there. A Knight does not break their vows." He caught her stride and leaned toward her more closely. "And I vow that when I fight in the melee to come it will be your beautiful face that spurs me forward."
Raising her eyebrows. “For shame Ser Hightower! It should be the Queen of Love and Beauty you fight for, not I." Gwen tried to look serious, she really tried but the sparkle in her eye and the slight knowing smile that lightly pulled her mouth up just the slightest gave the game away.
Ash chuckled a bit, this time letting go of any potential mask. It was a light smile, showing his own dimples and perhaps giving back as good as he got finally. "Any who even attempted to name someone other than yourself for that title doesn't see what I see, My Lady. Now, the lists are right. Around. This corner." He gestured to the last pavilion, a ghastly green and tan and then sighed.
Gwen laughed freely, the music of it sweet and pure causing more than one male head to turn her way, all of whom she did not notice. “Whoever told you that you are not enough is more than incorrect Ashton Hightower. I fear for their soul for they have committed a grave sin against the Seven."
She didn't know it, but she had just given Ashton the largest compliment of his life. He stood at the very edge of the last pavilion and simply glowed. "Thank you Gwen. Hope guides me. It will be what gets me through the day and night. The hope that after you are gone from my sight that we will see each other once again."
Dipping a curtsy Gwen blushed prettily. “I can but count the hours Ashton."
Ash gives a full bow, his eye glinting as he straightens and turns, going back the way he had come.
Gwen and Ashton run into each other
Bit of flirtation
Scandal!!!
Escort
Will he or will he not be gobbled up by wolves? Or will the tower stand strong? Find out next post… (Maybe)
No one knows where I live... And I like to keep it that way but here it is. - 1.0, 2.0
_______________________________________
____________________________________________________________________________ L I K E S
✔ALL Music ✔Performing ✔Football, both watching and playing ✔Hanging out with friends ✔Meeting new people ✔Composing ✔Swimming ✔The Beach ✔His dogs ✔The Ocean at night ✔Video Games (League of Legends) ✔Parties ✔Football Practice ✔Marching Band ✔Watching TV with friends ✔Watching movies with friends ✔Staying somewhere other than his house ✔Dancing ✔Musicals
D I S L I K E S
✘Chinese Food ✘Japanese Food ✘'Rich foods' ✘His parents ✘Bee's ✘Spider's ✘Overuse of text speak ✘Being 'forced' to sing like a trained animal ✘Waking up ✘Stuck up teachers ✘Math! ✘Fake people ✘Bullies of any kind
____________________________________________________________________________ P E R S O N A L I T Y
The kind of guy that likes to have friends, but while he knows everyone and considers everyone a friend he's the guy that has an inner circle that he keeps very close to himself, and entry is highly regulated. Then within that circle, there's only one or two that he can trust explicitly. The friends that he can speak on his deepest and darkest secrets. A creative genius when it comes to music and expressing himself through the arts, Riley has been writing songs and composing songs since he was in middle school. When truly upset and out of control only music can soothe him. It's his go-to coping method for just about everything in his life. Riley is exceptionally friendly and very out-going. With everything that goes on inside of himself, he sees it as a job to make everyone else feel better than he. He memorizes names and goes out of his way to greet everyone he passes to ask how their day has gone. He's commonly written a simple song for someone having a bad day and keeps a large stack of singles to treat his friends to their favorite candy or soda. He's always been empathetic and intuitive, able to tell how someone is even if they say they're 'ok'. He's built a reputation for being someone that you can talk to and that whatever you tell him doesn't go anywhere but him. He's loyal to a fault, likes to goof around and make people smile, and when you ask Riley something you can bet that it'll be the truth. Whether you like the outcome or not.
____________________________________________________________________________ B I O G R A P H Y
Riley was born in London, England to Alexander and Ava Revels. Alexander, Riley's father, was a renowned archeologist, professor, and holder of a fortune found from historical finds and his family's already exuberant wealth. Ava, Alexander's wife, and Riley's mother was the Australian counterpart to the academic professor. Ava was old money, the family coming to Australia from England sometime after World War 2. Ava was a philanthropist who began funding the expeditions of one Alexander Revels. And on one fateful treasure hunt, the two fell in love. Eventually they 'settled' down in Long Beach, California where they build a large manse on the Naples island and had Riley.
Riley was raised from birth truthfully by Felicia, a maid that made the trip from Australia to America to help Mrs. Revels. Riley rarely got to see his parents who became addicted to the nightlife of LA. They were constantly gone and bought other properties so they didn't have to come home often. No other children were in the cards and when Riley was 5, he overheard his mother tell Felicia that Riley was more a mistake than anything. Those words stuck with Riley and while he wanted to nothing, and was spoiled beyond measure Riley hated it. Instead, as he grew and under Felicia's guidance Riley grew to be a loving and empathetic child. He himself was hurting, which was made worse in his elementary and middle school years but he learned to hide his pain well, hiding under a desire to see others happy. Riley thrived in social situations and while his desire for attention from adults meant that he acted out and was the 'class clown' so to speak he was otherwise a great child in school. He received top marks in everything but Math where he struggled.
An area where he certainly didn't struggle was in the arts. His teacher in elementary school noticed the affinity for music and pushed the boy further into music. In middle school, he was allowed to take Band and he fell in love with the Violin. During middle school, Riley learned how to play the guitar, violin, cello, saxophone, clarinet, and could read and write in both treble and bass clefs. The band director at the middle school also introduced Riley to musical theory and during both the spring and winter concerts of his eighth-grade year, Riley co-wrote the arrangement with the director.
Highschool was instantly different. His freshman year he spent mostly with his music and getting to know all the new children that came from all the surrounding middle schools. He continued his habit of being nice to people and trying to make their day while offering advice or just listening to people that just needed an ear and a pat on the back afterward accompanied by a happy smile and an endorsement that it will get better. He was decently well liked and between his music, his love of making others laugh, and his still reigning class-clown title Riley has managed High-school thus far. But who knows what Senior Year will involve.
____________________________________________________________________________ S C H O O L I N F O
G R A D E Y E A R
12th grade
G P A & A V E R A G E
3.8 / A in everything but Math. No Honors or AP classes
F A V O R I T E C L A S S
Orchestra
E L E C T I V E C L A S S E S
Chorus and Marching Band
E X T R A C U R R I C U L A R
Marching Band (Saxophone section leader), Orchestra (Violin First Chair) Tenor in Chorus, Theater, Gaming Club, Football (Wide Receiver)
T R A N S P O R T A T I O N
∞ 2021 Honda Civic Type R that he traded his new Camaro for (It was a present from his parents).
P L A N S A F T E R G R A D U A T I O N
Riley plans to attend either Julliard or Berkeley School of the Arts. He hopes to make it broadway and continue composing.
____________________________________________________________________________ A F T E R - S C H O O L I N F O
E M P L O Y M E N T
Volunteers at the Middle School where he came from. He helps the students with various instruments. He also teaches Violin and Piano to wealthy children who homeschool.
F A V O R I T E P L A C E S
∞ Band Room ∞ His roof, watching the boats and water surrounding Naples ∞ The Beach at night ∞ Long Beach Towne Center Movie Theater
R E S P O N S I B I L I T I E S
∞ Tutor for Piano and Violin ∞ Section Leader in Marching Band ∞ Wide Receiver for the Football Team
____________________________________________________________________________ O T H E R
Aymeric Landon Miland ∞ Landon (He prefers to go by his middle name in America) ∞ Emmy (Only extremely close friends) ∞ Miland ∞ Lady Killer (though he despises it) ∞ Leonardo Di Caprio ∞ French Prince Charming (Mostly due to his still present French Accent.)
____________________________________________________________________________ L I K E S
✔Talking to People ✔Being part of a team ✔Playing Sports ✔Watching Sports ✔Hanging out at the Beach ✔Being a Leader ✔Languages ✔Busy work ✔Schoolwork ✔Teachers ✔Coaches ✔His brothers ✔His Aunt and Uncle ✔Exercising ✔Working Out ✔Memories of his parents ✔Watching Movies ✔Work Ethic ✔Honesty
D I S L I K E S
✘Rap music ✘Guns ✘Any reference to gun violence ✘Breaking Down ✘Memories of his parents ✘Peer pressure ✘Being allergic to so much ✘Heights ✘Being called Frenchie ✘Naysayers ✘Letting his team down ✘Anyone who doesn't give 110% ✘Cheaters/Bullies
____________________________________________________________________________ P E R S O N A L I T Y
At one point Aymeric or Landon as he prefers to be called in the states was an extremely nice bundle of energy. He radiated warmth and happiness and was almost always in a good mood. He made friends with everyone, could talk to anyone without issues, and wasn't afraid of anything. And even though he struggled with medical complications most of his life he never once quit or let it get to him. This energy and passion helped him overcome many of those childhood ailments including early Asthma which went away when he turned nine. Unfortunately, things changed after what he calls the darkest day. Aymeric and his parents were shopping in Cumbria, England. The family was visiting a national expert in childhood asthma when they were randomly targeted by a shooter wielding a shotgun. Both of Aymeric's parents were killed.
After this incident, Aymeric closed in on himself. He suffered from PTSD and loud sounds scared him constantly. Without that bubbly personality, his health also began to diminish and a heavy cloud hung over him. He and his brothers were sent to California to live with their mother's brother. Aymeric would go to school, doodle on his work, ignore everyone, and then come home where he went to his room and remained. When he reached Middle School he only participated in Gym because of the gruff and wizened Football coach who was in charge of physical education. Aymeric found that when he was being active he was able to get rid of the memories plaguing him and he could think for the first time in years. The coach recruited Aymeric to play Football for him and the young man took to it. It was here that Aymeric became much more Athletic, a competitor, dedicated, and loyal.
Fast forward to current times and Landon is a mix of damaged and healed. He still struggles at times with PTSD, and will still break down when certain memories come rushing past him. He hides it extremely well however with a large focus on sports. He now plays every single one he possibly can, and found that his schoolwork can also help. He sees a therapist twice a week and with the man's help Landon has become a true leader on the field, and someone that any teammate can be happy to have around. Landon hesitantly flexes his personal skills and likes to introduce himself to new people and make new friends. For those that already know him or are friends with him know that he's one of the most loyal people you could met and would do ANYTHING for you.
____________________________________________________________________________ B I O G R A P H Y
Aymeric was born in London, England to British mom Susan Cresswell and French father Renault Miland. Susan, a member of the British parliament had taken to Renault who served as an ambassador for the French Prime Minister. The two fell in love and Renault agreed to leave his country and move to England. Their love was true and soon enough came Aymeric, their first child. The joy of his birth was tempered with complications with first the pregnancy and then Aymeric's health right after. He suffered from a number of issues including stridor, asthma, and seizures. But, despite this Aymeric grew, and while one might consider a boy so sick to be starved of energy. It was the opposite, and Aymeric became a true bright light in the darkness for his parents. He guided them and as if through the pure power of will Aymeric defeated every single disease.
To be sure, Aymeric's parents took him to a specialist in the Cumbria province. The specialist confirmed what Aymeric's doctors had said. The boy was clear of symptoms and had beaten back the disease before it had clawed its way forward. It was a time for celebration and the three of them, the other two members of their family Corbin and Astor having remained in London with family friends, went out to lunch to eat. They then left and hailed for a taxi... A taxi drove by an active shooter that had been driving about the province and committing violence. When the Miland's approached the gunman pointed a shotgun at them and fired twice. The first shot hit Susan and clipped Renault who took the full brunt of the second shot after he shoved Aymeric into a ditch at their left. Both of Aymeric's parents were killed. The constables couldn't console the grieving boy and he didn't stop crying until he passed out from exhaustion.
At first, the Miland children were going to be sent to France, to live with Renault's family. But instead, it was decided that they would be sent to California, to Susan's brother Wyatt and his wife Claire. They were well off already but the insurance payments of a British public servant and Renault's family's gifts none of the three boys would want for much of anything... It was placed in a trust with Aymeric, the oldest receiving the largest share. Wyatt and Claire were also not exactly hurting as Claire served as a pediatric surgeon, and Wyatt ran a computer manufacturing business with his father. Aymeric was eleven years old by the time he arrived in America, a year before middle school and two years after the incident. He was a silent and numb child at first, his whole fifth-grade year and it seemed to anyone that tried to be friends with him that such would continue into the sixth grade.
And it might've had it not been for Coach Frank Long. Long served a triple threat role within the middle school. He was the Physical Education Teacher, the Head Football Coach of a national level team, and helped in the IT department. The man was a no-nonsense gruff man but he also had an eye for potential and was good at spotting pain. He used sports to first get Aymeric, now Landon to talk to him, and then recommended a therapist to Wyatt and Claire who they instantly used. Landon became obsessed with sports and he joined the Football team in his sixth-grade year and surprised everyone, including Long when he began outperforming the starters near the end of the season. Long continued to mentor the boy and coached him in the off-season where Landon also played every other sport he possibly could. One day Long found that Landon was failing most of his classes and after a very long heart to heart explained to the boy that grades were just as important, if not more so than quality play. Between that and finding out that diving into work helped him process Landons grades began to get better and better until right at the end of sixth grade he was on the AB honor roll.
The rest of Middle School went about the same, Landon getting better and better at all aspects of his life. If anyone had known him before they would just realize that he was healing and becoming more like himself from before. Long continued to coach him specifically and the now young man led the school to the national middle school championship and won it as the quarterback. In addition to Quarterback, he also played shortstop in baseball, shooting guard in basketball, and center forward in soccer. Exceptionally Athletic and with a natural leadership quality Landon not only excelled himself but raised everyone around him by being genuine a true team player. He was also the second-highest grade in the school, and it was apparent that Frank Long had truly helped Landon perform a 180.
Then came Highschool. Delbrook Academy was definitely a change but Landon stuck to a simple strategy. Just continue to do what he did best. His Freshman year he was top of his class, and was one of the most promising Football players in Southern California, with scouts already being told of the young man. (With help may or may not come from a certain Middle School Coach.) Sophomore year, Landon had to sit out of Fall and Winter sports but was able to at least participate in Baseball and Swimming in the Spring. His Junior year he was the Varsity starting Quarterback and performed quite well despite only having one real target on the receiving corps. The team was first in the state, yet fell in the first round of nationals. Throughout all of this, he continued to be either at the top of his class or in the top five of his year.
Now that Senior Year has come everything is looking up. New talent has come up from the JV squad, including three new receivers, and another rising star running back. Landon has truly begun feeling healed, still struggling but now beginning to believe that he truly can become better. He's also realized that he has pushed himself far too much and that stress has become a best friend to himself. He knows he needs to temper himself but there's so much that needs to be done. And if that wasn't enough, Landon has finally healed enough to start taking notice of his sexuality and the many classmates of his at the high school. Sure, it might be a bit late, but better late than never right? The pressure is on, lets see how the year turns out!
____________________________________________________________________________ S C H O O L I N F O
G R A D E Y E A R
12th grade
G P A & A V E R A G E
4.9 / A+ Average, all Honors and AP classes, no free periods.
F A V O R I T E C L A S S
Calculus
E L E C T I V E C L A S S E S
Quantitive literacy
E X T R A C U R R I C U L A R
Football (Captain and Quarterback) in the fall, Basketball (Shooting guard) in the winter, Baseball (Captain and Shortstop/Pitcher), and Swimming in the Spring.
Landon is sort of taking it by ear, but with the combine truly testing him this year he hopes he will have enough scores and grades to get a full scholarship to play College Football. Preferably at Alabama or USC. If that doesn't work out he has considered something in the mathematic field.
____________________________________________________________________________ A F T E R - S C H O O L I N F O
E M P L O Y M E N T
Assistant Offensive Coach at his old Middle School.
F A V O R I T E P L A C E S
∞ Football Stadiums ∞ School ∞ The Beach ∞ Home
R E S P O N S I B I L I T I E S
∞ Captain of the Football and Baseball teams ∞ Coaches Middle School Ball ∞ His Grades
____________________________________________________________________________ O T H E R
Complicated. Everything was oh so difficult. Addam Hightower, heir to House Hightower and Oldtown sat in his tent leaned forward, and pinched the bridge of his nose. In front of him, laying half opened, was a letter. Addam looks up at his Aunt, Celene, who was also sitting quietly with a thoughtful expression on her face as she was leaning forward and staring at the letter. Finally, Addam breaks the silence. "Guessing at loyalty is going to be impossible. And each person we poke is a potential threat. We have to assume the Lannisters will ally with the crown. The Lord Paramount of the West is friends with the king, they have history. The Iron born are wild card and could attack anyone. Bringing them into the plan is not the right move."
Celene sighs and gives a slight shrug. "It's not the worst play, the Lannisters are wealthy and Tytos has rebuilt. The mines are flowing again and should the Rock empty their lands it'll be easy pickings. The Lannister fleet is also more or less easier to defeat than a combined Redwyne and Hightower flotilla. But don't focus on what moves your father is making, instead focus on the plan already in motion. Your job is to ensure the triple Alliance and all marriages are finalized. Anything less than that and nothing else matters. Alicent knows her role, to ensure the Redwyne boy is taken with her, you must do the same for Lord Tarly. He is a proud man, and rightly so he will be watching you closely to make sure his daughter weds correctly. Everything comes down to you. No pressure." Celene smirks and leans back before winking over at Addam who gave a roll of his eyes and groans. His hands no longer pinched the bridge of his nose and instead rubbed his eyes. He was tired, the travels hadn't helped matters.
"I understand Aunt Celene. I will make the House proud." He didn't think his sister, Alicent would struggle either. By all words, the youngest son of House Redwyne should be a decent match and someone that his sister could be happy with. The Lord Tarly though was a different huntsman. And Addam would be lying if he wasn't nervous. Just as he was about to speak again a page entered wearing the Hightower livery.
"Apologies my Lord, My Lady, but we will need to be off if we're to make Summerhall by tomorrow morning. Addam smiled softly and nodded before shooting a look at his Aunt.
"Thank you Lyam, we'll be out shortly." The page bowed and left leaving the two Hightowers alone once again. No words needed to be spoken, both knew what they needed to do.
Lazy, and wasting precious time. Ashton could hear his one-time teacher even now while he lay upon the grass of Summerhall, letting the sun's rays gently caress, and cradle him in their warmth. A smile ghosted at the young man's lips as he thought about Otho's face if he came across Ashton in this place at this moment, and what colors of rage would manifest. Still smirking, Ash slowly leaned up and moved his arms behind him to support his weight as the sun started to ever so slowly disappear and surrender to dusk. It was the Hightower's favorite time of day and he always allowed himself this little sliver of personal time. When the sun finally set, Ash sighed in contentment and with a groan began to stand up, his muscles instantly protesting after having been still for the last hour. He attempted to alleviate their distress with a cat-like stretch and even gave a small yawn. Slowly the muscles relented.
Setting off from his hilltop perch, Ashton slowly walked back to the main Castle ground and started a mental list of things to do before sleep. Sharpening blades, shining armor, cleaning leather, collecting letters for Ryon and himself, bringing up supper, cleaning clothing, and making the beds with the fresh linens he had washed earlier that day. It was hard work surely but Ashton never once complained, finding the word a fair trade for the knowledge and training he got in return. Besides, by this time he and Ryon were good friends and so Ash wasn't in the greatest of hurries to be Knighted. He'd get it when he got it and not sooner.
Stumbling, Ashton glanced behind himself to see a foot sticking out from a pavilion and rolled his eyes as he heard snickering. Some young lords making trouble and trying to trip people. Not a smart move really, but Ashton wasn't a guard nor their family and so simply continued on his way. Now that so many were making their way to the celebratory tournament more and more pavilions were being set up and serving to cause Ashton's journey to and from his hilltop refuge to take longer and longer as the maze grew. Briefly, he realized that his brother and the entourage from Oldtown would be arriving either tonight or early in the morning. It would be good to see his brother after so long.
Eventually, Ashton made it to the main Castle and waved to the guards as they allowed him passage. Ash was for the most part a very shy boy and awkward when not discussing combat or knightly topics. He didn't speak much and didn't make many friends though he was slowly trying to do better by remembering names and simply being nice. "Evening Rolf, Malak, hope you're doing well?"
The two guards smiled back and gave quick nods before replying. "Can't complain, don't have tent city duty." They gestured towards the pavilions and Ashton nodded in understanding before heading inside and making a beeline for Ryon's room.
He made the bed, collected the dirty clothing that he could find, and then took them and his own to the washing woman. He then ensured supper would be brought up and then retired to his Knight's room to begin the process of cleaning sword, and armor.
Ryon made his way through the corridors of Summerhall effortlessly. Perhaps because of the grimace he currently wore, or perhaps because he had become as well known in this castle as the sword he carried. Dawn. The fabled sword that he had been the first to wield in decades. It was a heavy burden to bear. And having welcomed in the rest of his family - family that he rarely saw in the past few years - that burden was heavy on his mind and the cause of his grimace.
Lord Ormond was in good spirits and had wanted a meeting with his daughter and the Prince. Ser Ryon had interceded on Dyanna’s behalf; Seven knew she did not need her father suddenly interested in her welfare or haranguing the Prince for some kind of favor. It had been pleasant at least to see young Arron and Eldon again. The boys had truly become men, and Ryon had been all too happy to have an excuse to take them around the tents and pavilions that had been sprouting up ahead of the tourney start. But then Eldon had pulled him aside to share the more worrying news out of Starfall. Vorian grew more unstable of late. The heir had refused to come north and had become deluded with conspiracies that Ryon acted to usurp him upon Ormond’s death. Rubbish of course.
Instead, having shown Ormond and his cousins where they would stay, he made his way to gather his squire. It would be good for Ashton to have time away from duties and with company closer to his own age as well.
Even before entering his rooms, Ryon was certain he was correct. He could hear the familiar sound of work being done. The boy was relentless at times in his duties. And while it was something that Twilight Star could respect, it was also a source of something to jest about.
“Ashton, how many times have I told you, don’t start a bit of work if you’ll need to end it early to have some fun.” In rounding the corner into his rooms, the knight had rubbed the grimace from his face and plastered on the care-free smile he used with others. “My cousins have arrived at last and are quite eager to meet your acquaintance again” He leaned against a wall, at ease, arms crossed lightly against his chest. He waited for the squire to look up before he continued. “And of course, by meet your acquaintance, what they mean is to have their old cousin buy them rounds of drinks down at the Redwyne pavilions.” He laughed, a quick and hearty noise. “Somehow they think I’ve become as rich as the Prince their sister married. But if I am buying for them, surely I am buying for you. Come on now.” He snapped his fingers dramatically.
Even before Ryon showed himself and spoke his jest, Ash could tell that he was there. It was one of the things about Castles, you could hear when someone was coming for the most part and Ryon wasn’t exactly trying to be sneaky. Ryon would see Ash’s back when he entered fully, the squire bent at the waist as he shined his boots. The rest of the equipment of both squire and Knight were neatly organized to Ash’s left, an obvious ‘clean’ pile. “Just finishing up, so if anything it was perfect timing. Oh, your practice shirt is going to need to be resewn, it tore during the wash I was told. I have your backup ready for tomorrow in case you need it.”
That was Ashton, always ready and prepared and going above and beyond to the best of his ability. He took his job seriously, and he supposed going out and mingling was a part of that job. The young man finished his task and then slowly turned, a wide grin on his face. Ash knew that Ryon was aware of his squire's weaknesses and as with all good mentors always attempted to strengthen them. "I suppose I should go and change into something a bit more appropriate then if we're going to go out and be festive. You know I can't dance though so don't even try to trick me into it."
With his smile growing ever wider Ashton headed for the doorway, preparing to go to his room, which wasn't far, to change. It would be good to see the younger Daynes. And it would be a good chance to stretch the more social muscles.
— —
Eldon and Arron were not well accustomed to being outside of Starfall, and though they were men grown, they acted like children at their first summer fair. It was a flaw mostly laid at Ormond’s feet, but Ryon thought reluctantly, him having left before he was done training them had not served them well. They had run ahead at least, to gather drinks with Ryon’s silver for the group of them.
For all that he had said about not having grown rich, Dyanna had seen fit to ensure that her cousin was taken care of for his station, or perhaps the Prince had not wanted his wife’s family and sworn protector to look anything but the part. Ryon stalked the grounds now wearing a fine lilac robe, open to reveal the crisp linen tunic beneath. His house sigil was finely embroidered in cloth-of-silver across his shoulder. The knight would rather be in a practice shirt and trousers, but if Dy could will herself into the pageantry and gowns, he could certainly bear to don a more formal attire as well.
He clapped his hand to his squire’s back. His squire was getting rather old to be a squire, but taking on a squire as the Sword of the Morning had felt as though much more was required of his charge. “I’ve prepared you as much as I could, so tell me, are you ready for what lies ahead?” He spoke jovially though with a weighted undercurrent. Placing well in the melee would surely satisfy most as cause to knight the lad. It felt lacking for the untapped potential of the boy though.
As Ashton walked into his room his gaze unconsciously moved to his things. The content they were all organized and ready he tried to figure out what to wear. He certainly did not want to overshadow his Knight. But he was also the son of a powerful House so it couldn't be too simple either. Knowing Ryon's wardrobe helped matters and Ash figured he would go with a dark blue silk tunic with the High Tower embroidered in silver along with a dark gray cape that was clasped below his neck by a glittering diamond tower, another sigil of his house. The chain going from shoulder to sigil was also silver. Simple, yet elegant Ash figured it fit well enough.
He buckled on Vigilance, as he never let the blade out of his sight, and then headed back out. Upon seeing Ryon, Ash was content that he had made the right choice in his outfit and nodded politely before falling into step beside the Dayne. He wasn't certain where exactly they were headed but the Redwyne tent was always supposed to be the most popular. Briefly, Ash remembered his latest correspondence with his father and brother, the latter of which was supposed to be arriving the following morning. They were seeking an alliance with the Redwynes and Tarly's while the Reach figured out what to make of the new Tyrell paramount…
The lad was brought out of his thoughts on the matter by Ryon asking him a question and Ash took a breath in to buy some time before frowning. "I'm ready, all I can do is my best and follow your training but there are some very experienced Knights competing. I'm excited but nervous, I know I still have a lot to learn." Some other young men, squires to other Knights might have been arrogant and cocky. But Ashton always considered his potential opponents his equal or better and realized that the art of swordsmanship was constantly evolving and changing. One was forever a student and there would always be someone better at some point.
"Either way, I just want to make sure I don't disappoint you or my family." Ashton shrugged and then blinked rapidly as the mass of torches and lights suddenly came into view as they reached the edge of the tent city.
Ryon had always appreciated his charge’s outlook, perhaps it reminded him of himself. But the young man sometimes needed a stronger push. He glanced to the lad’s side, knowing Vigilance would be secured round his hip - much the same as Ryon always carried Dawn. It was not just protection or pride. It was duty, a heavy weight and reminder that they did not serve themselves or even just their families.
Ryon’s face turned serious. “Your family has already bestowed you with your Valyrian steel. You will do your best, and you will always learn. Just remember that it is a foolish man who confuses the Warrior for the Stranger and seeks to tempt Them to prove themselves.” His hand still rested on his squire’s shoulder, and he allowed his friendly smile to return. “You’ll make us all proud I’m sure of it. Now then, my other young charges are not so responsible as you. Shall we find them and make sure they don’t mar my family’s name?”
Ashton stared up at Ryon as he spoke. It was a teaching style that the Hightower squire had come to appreciate. Serious, yet understanding, and then right back to simple friendship. Mentally, Ash was taking notes should he ever have a squire of his own someday. As they stood at the edge still Ash remembered the important conversation he was supposed to have with the Dayne.
"Yes, let's go and find them but uh.. I have to ask you something. It comes from my father and not me but I am duty bound to ask." He went quiet for a second and then just grit his teeth and went for it.
"My father is attempting to consolidate power in the Reach. He is aiming to support Daemon should he ever make a bid for the Throne and he was curious where you stood. As he could see about having you become Lord Dayne." Ashton made a face as he finished as if he had just eaten something exceptionally sour and sighed. His shoulders sagged and a defeated look crossed his face. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to bring it up…"
Ryon's face darkened immediately. Surely they had spoken of the realm and of politics, but this was treason thrown to the open. He furrowed his brow, his eyes narrowed, in an uncharacteristic way. What foolishness did the Lord Hightower have to make his son approach his knight with such things.
The Twilight Star pressed the bridge of his nose between finger and thumb. "Your father gave you an impossible task, I will not hold this against you, but you will listen closely and we will never speak of this again." He paused, lips pressed tightly. "I am not and never will be heir to Starfall. I have no desire to add the weight of lordship to my shoulders, you understand?" Had Vorian actually heard rumors of this? It would perhaps go to explaining how serious Eldon had seemed. “Beyond that, my beloved cousin is sister-in-law to our king. She has born children to his brother. I would not betray them for anything.” He had pointedly avoided speaking the Blackfyre’s name. Seven, how he hated this positioning and angling.. “Tell your father…tell him that I wish House Hightower continued prosperity and a bountiful future.” It was an inelegant non-answer, but Ryon had no taste for these affairs.
Ash had shrunken back when he noted Ryon's initial reaction. But he steadied himself, he knew his Knight well and had never seen him lose control. Ash had told his father pursuing Ryon as a potential ally was folly but Lord Hightower wanted to cross every t and dot every I before making his final play. Even Ash didn't know any plans, he had simply been asked to find out about Ryon and Maekar. There was probably a hidden message but Ash was unintelligent about such subtle maneuvers and was abrasive in his words. He said what he meant, meant what he said, and always kept his word. He had ambitions to be another Aemon the Dragonknight, to serve as best he could.
"I'm sorry Ryon.. Er, Ser Ryon. I didn't want to ask but my family was insistent. And I knew you would understand that I'm not exactly the best at… Well speaking." It was a known weakness for the Hightower, which was odd, considering how good the rest tended to be. "As you said, we will speak no more of it." As if to punctuate his words Ash moved forward into the throng, waiting just a bit for any final words from his Knight.
Ryon worked to smooth away the frustration that still bristled underneath. “Ash…” He forced a smile across thinned lips. “I think it best we go find my cousins - and several bottles of wine. A final night of revelry before you need to be sober for the challenges.” His voice held an edge to it, and he remained unsettled as they crossed the grounds. Perhaps things were more dire than he had assumed. Unconsciously, his hand rested on Dawn.
Arron and Eldon had quickly found themselves a corner of the Redwyne pavilions to set up with bottles of wine, a smattering of food already picked over, and two women on their laps, when Ryon and Ashton found them. “Go on now, have some fun Ash.” Ryon patted his squire’s shoulder. “I should settle up with what these two fools have gotten themselves into.”
Eldon and Arron looked up from their cups and their women. “Ah here he is, our famed cousin, the Sword of the Morning himself! Ser Ryon! And his Squire of Hightower, Ashton - at long last.”
Ryon gave the group a half-smile, his head nodded in response. “Eldon, Arron - you’re to get Ashton drunk as a boiled owl, and if you haven’t found the lot of yourselves stumbling out of tents in the morning with your trousers lost, you haven’t tried hard enough tonight.” He picked up a half full goblet of something and knocked it back in one long gulp. “And Ashton, I still expect you for training come the morn.”
The Heir of House Hightower, his aunt, and only sister travel to Summerhall for the tourney while discussing the plots of the current Lord. Ashton Hightower spends some time with his Knight in preparation for the big tournament and also has an awkward moment neither one wishes.
House Hightower is truly an ancient House House that has existed since the dawn of days when they were kings. They founded the city that eventually would become Oldtown, one of the five cities of Westeros, and they allied with the Andal invaders instead of fighting them which led to the Hightowers adopting the faith of the seven. Oldtown was chosen to house the Starry Sept which was to be the center of faith in Westeros until the Great Sept was built in King's Landing. Also housed within their city is the High Tower itself which is the tallest building in Westeros. Interested in trade, and knowledge the Hightowers helped found the Citadel where all of the Maesters of the realm train.
History has shown the Hightowers have a talent for playing to their strengths despite being bannermen. They serve loyally but aren't afraid to move to a winning side if they feel their chances are better. They were loyal bannermen to the Gardeners but did not march with them to the fields of fire, and when the Tyrell's were raised as the new Wardens the Hightowers transferred that loyalty to the Tyrell's with no resistance. Slowly they gained favor with the new rulers of the Seven Kingdoms and eventually served as Hand to the King to King Jaehaerys and Viserys. It was around this time that the House fully mobilized its power to support Queen Alicent Hightower during the Dance of Dragons.
In recent times the Hightowers spend their days learning from the mistakes of the past. A much more serious sense of what could have been resounding within them. The family is strong, united, and is once again looking to make a name for themselves in the Kingdom. Jon Hightower has recently passed, and his son, Lord Ryam Hightower has now taken hold and has already enacted many new changes. The City Watch was given better training, equipment, and greater power while mercenary commanders were brought in to help drill a standing force of five thousand troops. Beyond that, messages were sent to find allies new and old as the new generation of Hightowers add to the rich history behind them.
House Members:
Ryam Hightower (47, born 155 AC), Lord of the Hightower, Beacon of the South, Lord of the Port]
Septa Tredare (69, born 133 AC). Septa of the Hightower, chief advisor to Lord Ryam.
House members
Name: Addam Hightower, Heir of the Hightower, Heir of Oldtown
Age: 25 (born 177 AC)
Appearance:
Decently tall at exactly six feet, Addam is, like most of the Hightowers, a good example of looks being deceiving. He has medium-length brown hair that is usually styled to the right and is one of the few children of the current Lord to boast brown eyes. Appearing lanky and thin those that spar with him quickly realize that he is all hardened sinew, and exceptionally wiry. Handsome, with a quick and bright smile his features seem perfectly proportioned. Addam is fond of simple dress when not in his armor, preferring coats emblazoned with the Hightower sigil. His weapon of choice is the hand-and-a-half sword which he wears on his left hip opposite a gauche knife on his right.
Biography:
The firstborn child, Addam came quickly after the marriage celebrations of Ryam and Alys. As a baby and young child, Addam seemed destined to be a perfect firstborn child. He was patient and respectful, intelligent and perceptive, and cared more about making his mother and father happy.
When he was six years old he began training with various Maesters of the Citadel where he learned math, history, and so much more. A bright child, Addam managed to retain the information but never fell in love with the prospect of finding more knowledge. Not that he had any time to study more anyway as he was also passed to Otho Hightower, the brother of the boy's grandfather who commanded the City Watch of Oldtown and served as Master at Arms. Like his studies, Addam was decent at martial skills and found he had a talent with a dual-bladed style using a traditional longsword and a gauche knife. He was also a talented rider.
Addam grew up knowing that one day he would more than likely be the heir to Oldtown and so always carried himself with pride and distinction. He became a seasoned diplomat for one so young and went on a tour of the realm when he was six and ten to meet other Houses and to perhaps even find a young lady to court. Thus far it seems that his efforts bear no fruit but the young Hightower doesn't worry, instead figuring that when the time comes he will do his best to reassure his betrothed that he would do whatever he could to make her more comfortable and would truly care as he went about his duties as a husband.
When his father became Lord Hightower, Addam easily slotted into the role of heir. He sits at his father's side during meetings, discreet conversations, and open council sessions and has taken a heavy hand in the administration of the workings of Oldtown. Recently he has been tasked with standing up a ready and drilled force of men with the help of foreign officers. All the blocks are in place to ensure a smooth transition should anything happen to Lord Ryam.
Name: Leo Hightower
Age: 20 (born in 182 AC)
Appearance:
Tall, lanky, and thin Leo stands at six feet exactly but unlike his older brother does not boast the sinew of a warrior. His features are softer and sharper though it's subtle. Curly dark brown hair is usually untameable though he only has to run his hands through it a few times to get it to fall decently. He never lets it grow too long so it never covers his eyes which seem to change colors with the light from light blue to light green. He is always devoid of weapons as he was never any good with them and is instead accompanied by two guards at all times. Leo is fond of the fashions of the realm and can often be spotted in the latest colors which he has easy access to in Oldtown. While not a fighter, Leo does have good balance and is an excellent dancer, singer, and musician.
Biography:
An inquisitive child even as a babe, Leo has always been obsessed with the hows, and whys, of the world. His nose was almost always stuck in a book after he learned to read and he showed a natural aptitude for maths, history, and even more advanced learning. Scores of Maesters were brought in to help sate the boy's thirst for knowledge and Leo ate it up. On the other side of the coin, however, Leo was not much of a swordsman and abhorred training in the yard. He would run away for hours, hiding in some nook or cranny for hours with a large tome to read and escape physical training. Despite this, he grew tall and thin and developed an appreciation for exercise at least after reading about its benefits in a Maesters recording.
Leo was named after the Lord Paramount of the Reach and Warden of the South, a man recently deceased but still a gesture from Ryam, Leo's father, of the loyalty of House Hightower. And many times Leo considers how his namesake would take him. This pressure to do well has always existed even as a second-born son and Leo is hyper-aware of his flaws while rarely acknowledging his strengths. Luckily his family is always there to remind him of his idyllic memory, intelligence, and quick wit.
When he was ten while visiting the docks he was witness to a Brawl. He was protected, after his house guards were swallowed by the mob, by two unlikely men wearing simple leathers and rapiers. The two men ensured no harm came to the boy and afterward swore their swords and lives to Leo. Cosimo and Phario had been one-time merchants, one-time mercenaries, and often guards for Volantene highborn and so the Braavosi easily transitioned to the guarding of Leo. Now the three are hardly seen without each other and some have taken to calling them the triarchs.
Keeping with his tradition of not training, Leo has never been knighted nice shown any interest in starting the process. Nor has he shown interest in joining the Citadel as a Maester. He instead serves as his father, and older brother's left hand. Advising and offering his insights into issues plaguing the family. Routinely he can be found in the library, a study, or walking the city.
Name: Ashton Hightower, Blade of Oldtown
Age: 19 (born in 183 AC)
Appearance:
The tallest of the Hightowers just so happens to also be their best swordsman. Six foot two, Ashton is a merging of his two elder brothers. His features are sharp yet soft, and almost chiseled they are so precise. Quite handsome, Ashton has been known to cause a few double-takes and has had many a maiden attempt to woo him. His hair is a softer lighter brown than his brothers and it even takes a soft shine when in the sun. His eyes are a piercing bright blue which shines brighter when he is thinking or concentrating. Those eyes become cold and calculating thoughts in combat which is where Ashton thrives. Exceptionally quick, and intelligent Ashton develops his fighting style after analyzing the style of his opponent. The Valyrian sword Vigilance is always on his left hip even with the lad being ambidextrous.
Biography:
Born third, his parents were now quite used to the routine. However, fate is never happier to twist those routines. Ashton was born exactly five minutes before his twin, Alicent. And the expected easy delivery was made complex. Luckily the skills of the Maesters and the Fortitude of Lady Alys, Ashton, and Alicent's mother, a tragedy was averted. The twins became the delight of the High Tower and were showered with visits, fawned over by servants and Highborn, and served to cause smiles from the citizens of Oldtown. The twin delights they began to be called.
As they grew the twins were inseparable and while attempts had been made to give them their personalized learning it was hopeless and so Lord Hightower ordered that a merging of learning would have to take place. As such, Alicent was present during Ashton's martial training and Ashton was present during Alicent's lessons with the Septa. The two caused a great stir but still the twin delights often just caused smiles and small chuckles. Ashton was fiercely protective of his sister and often would get into fights to defend her honor from perceived insults from the other boys.
As the twins grew older, however, they did begin to form their own identities and begin to separate. A good thing as it was when Ashton was twelve that he was sent to Squire for Ser Ryon Dayne, the current Sword of the Morning. It was still difficult to say goodbye but to this day Ashton considers it one of the best moves he could make. Ashton flourished as a Squire, trying to always go above and beyond what was expected. He was a patient and attentive learner and took to the intricacies of being a Knight well. He was a natural talent with the sword, and while he would be trained and was proficient in most weaponry it was the sword where he was the most deadly.
His style of fighting is not flashy or glory-seeking, instead serving as exceptionally efficient and patient. Ashton never made the first move, instead always watching and adapting based on what he saw his opponent do. He never underestimated his opponent and when he was beaten he always attempted to speak with the opponent after and learn from the defeat. Now at nineteen, he was an exceptionally dangerous swordsman wielding the Hightower Valyrian blade, Vigilance.
More than willing to wait for his moment, and not in any rush to leave Ryon's side, Ashton has still yet to be Knighted and continues to serve the Dayne in his duties as a Knight. He has also struck up friendships with other Knights, though for the most part keeps to himself as he's somewhat awkward in social situations.
Name: Gerold Hightower
Age: 18, born 184 AC
Appearance:
The shortest of all of the Hightower lads Gerold still stands at a respectable five foot nine. A rogue at heart, Gerold has long light brown hair which falls to just his shoulders. His eyes are a deep blue that you could get lost while staring into and he is very thin. Preferring speed over all else Gerold prefers the Rapiers and the water dancing styles of Braavos. Extremely talented in the art, Gerold physically represents the form with easy-flowing movements and speed. He is handsome, but his cockiness and arrogance are always shown on his face with a smirk that many have said they wish to smack off the boy. Gerold is usually seen in a simple white linen shirt sprinting down the docks after playing a prank on someone or challenging some poor merchant to a duel. He can be respectful however and cleans up well, being an impressive and charming noble son in court settings.
Biography:
Born to the Hightowers on a bright summer day, Gerold was destined to be a firecracker. Doted upon by all Gerold learned quickly how to use his charms to his advantage. A prankster, no one was safe from the young lad when in the High Tower and he had to be watched constantly when guests visited as even they could be potential targets. Gerold always got along with the regular people more so than other highborn and he had countless friends in Oldtown where he would run off to and away from his lessons.
Gerold became Streetwise and worldly, combining his charm and wit with shrewd experience. He adopted a cockiness and was the instigator of numerous fights. Despite this, he truly loved his family and always regretted his wayward ways. More than one time he wished he had been born a simple commoner.
Eventually, a compromise had been settled. Gerold was to be betrothed to the Sealord of Braavos's daughter and live in Braavos itself. And within that city, he truly thrived. He was taught the art of water dancing and took to it like a fish to water. A natural fencer Gerold has become more Braavosi than Westerosi and fits into the crowd. He has grown to be a competent diplomat for his age and while his arrogant smirk remains, it is now serving as more of a mask instead of a weakness. Within Braavos he remains, awaiting the time that his betrothal is requested by his father to the King.
Name: Alicent Hightower
Age: 19, born 183 AC
Appearance:
The only girl of the bunch, Alicent has grown up surrounded by the males of her House. She routinely snuck out of her lessons with the Septa to watch the boys in the yard or escape into Oldtown with her Twin and whatever guards got unlucky enough to be stuck with the twin terrors. Alicent grew up athletic, mirroring her brother's inability to sit still for extended amounts of time. She trained with Rapier, knives, and shortswords while also developing a routine of running during the mornings Alicent can dead-eye throw a knife at a target, fight with one or two blades, and focuses on footwork and dodges. Through this, she managed to lock her excess energy much better and easier than her Twin. Alicent had light brown hair and soft green eyes. She has been trained in courtly matters and is a cunning player of the political games. She can easily navigate her way around situations with a smile and nod, feigning ignorance and always hiding her true strengths.
Biography:
The second half of the twin delights, or twin terrors if forced to guard them, Alicent's upbringing mirrored Ashton's for the most part. Alicent attended martial lessons with her brother where she found a talent with knives and shortswords along with a knack for evasive techniques. Unlike Ashton however, Alicent also paid attention to her studies from the Septa, only occasionally sneaking out. When Ashton was sent away to learn in Dorne, Alicent took it hard and retreated into the libraries and practice fields. She did her duty to her family but was not happy with her parents. She mostly interacted with them through her other siblings and instead preferred to make friends with the other nobles in the Hightower, or those visiting.
She developed a love of history, particularly the histories of the Lords and Ladies that came before her. She poured through notes, letters, and journals from the past and used them to develop a cunning political understanding. She eventually forgave her parents and took her place as the only female child and also her father's shadowy hand. While Leo advised on serious things, and Addam become the second opinion of Lord Ryam, Alicent became the advisor on practical matters, and political matters, and began to develop a knack for dealing in information. She was well known in Oldtown proper and had much clout with the common people, handling issues, giving out food, and overall making the city a better place. In return, she was given quite a bit of information and she has only just started sending those information gatherers out into Westeros.
House Hightower is truly an ancient House House that has existed since the dawn of days when they were kings. They founded the city that eventually would become Oldtown, one of the five cities of Westeros, and they allied with the Andal invaders instead of fighting them which led to the Hightowers adopting the faith of the seven. Oldtown was chosen to house the Starry Sept which was to be the center of faith in Westeros until the Great Sept was built in King's Landing. Also housed within their city is the High Tower itself which is the tallest building in Westeros. Interested in trade, and knowledge the Hightowers helped found the Citadel where all of the Maesters of the realm train.
History has shown the Hightowers have a talent for playing to their strengths despite being bannermen. They serve loyally but aren't afraid to move to a winning side if they feel their chances are better. They were loyal bannermen to the Gardeners but did not march with them to the fields of fire, and when the Tyrell's were raised as the new Wardens the Hightowers transferred that loyalty to the Tyrell's with no resistance. Slowly they gained favor with the new rulers of the Seven Kingdoms and eventually served as Hand to the King to King Jaehaerys and Viserys. It was around this time that the House fully mobilized its power to support Queen Alicent Hightower during the Dance of Dragons.
In recent times the Hightowers spend their days learning from the mistakes of the past. A much more serious sense of what could have been resounding within them. The family is strong, united, and is once again looking to make a name for themselves in the Kingdom. Jon Hightower has recently passed, and his son, Lord Ryam Hightower has now taken hold and has already enacted many new changes. The City Watch was given better training, equipment, and greater power while mercenary commanders were brought in to help drill a standing force of five thousand troops. Beyond that, messages were sent to find allies new and old as the new generation of Hightowers add to the rich history behind them.
House Members:
Ryam Hightower (47, born 155 AC), Lord of the Hightower, Beacon of the South, Lord of the Port]
Septa Tredare (69, born 133 AC). Septa of the Hightower, chief advisor to Lord Ryam.
House members
Name: Addam Hightower, Heir of the Hightower, Heir of Oldtown
Age: 26 (born 176 AC)
Appearance:
Decently tall at exactly six feet, Addam is, like most of the Hightowers, a good example of looks being deceiving. He has medium-length brown hair that is usually styled to the right and is one of the few children of the current Lord to boast brown eyes. Appearing lanky and thin those that spar with him quickly realize that he is all hardened sinew, and exceptionally wiry. Handsome, with a quick and bright smile his features seem perfectly proportioned. Addam is fond of simple dress when not in his armor, preferring coats emblazoned with the Hightower sigil. His weapon of choice is the hand-and-a-half sword which he wears on his left hip opposite a gauche knife on his right.
Biography:
The firstborn child, Addam came quickly after the marriage celebrations of Ryam and Alys. As a baby and young child, Addam seemed destined to be a perfect firstborn child. He was patient and respectful, intelligent and perceptive, and cared more about making his mother and father happy.
When he was six years old he began training with various Maesters of the Citadel where he learned math, history, and so much more. A bright child, Addam managed to retain the information but never fell in love with the prospect of finding more knowledge. Not that he had any time to study more anyway as he was also passed to Otho Hightower, the brother of the boys' grandfather who commanded the City Watch of Oldtown and served as Master at Arms. Like his studies, Addam was decent at martial skills and found he had a talent with a dual-bladed style using a traditional longsword and a gauche knife. He was also a talented rider.
Addam grew up knowing that one day he would more than likely be the heir to Oldtown and so always carried himself with pride and distinction. He became a seasoned diplomat for one so young and went on a tour of the realm when he was six and ten to meet other Houses and to perhaps even find a young lady to court. Thus far it seems that his efforts bear no fruit but the young Hightower doesn't worry, instead figuring that when the time comes he will do his best to reassure his betrothed that he would do whatever he could to make her more comfortable and would truly care as he went about his duties as a husband.
When his father became Lord Hightower, Addam easily slotted into the role of heir. He sits at his father's side during meetings, discreet conversations, and open council sessions and has taken a heavy hand in the administration of the workings of Oldtown. Recently he has been tasked with standing up a ready and drilled force of men with the help of foreign officers. All the blocks are in place to ensure a smooth transition should anything happen to Lord Ryam.
Name: Leo Hightower
Age: 23 (born in 179 AC)
Appearance:
Tall, lanky, and thin Leo stands at six feet exactly but unlike his older brother does not boast the sinew of a warrior. His features are softer and sharper though it's subtle. Curly dark brown hair is usually untameable though he only has to run his hands through it a few times to get it to fall decently. He never lets it grow too long so it never covers his eyes which seem to change colors with the light from light blue to light green. He is always devoid of weapons as he was never any good with them and is instead accompanied by two guards at all times. Leo is fond of the fashions of the realm and can often be spotted in the latest colors which he has easy access to in Oldtown. While not a fighter, Leo does have good balance and is an excellent dancer, singer, and musician.
Biography:
An inquisitive child even as a babe, Leo has always been obsessed with the hows, and whys, of the world. His nose was almost always stuck in a book after he learned to read and he showed a natural aptitude for maths, history, and even more advanced learning. Scores of Maesters were brought in to help sate the boy's thirst for knowledge and Leo ate it up. On the other side of the coin, however, Leo was not much of a swordsman and abhorred training in the yard. He would run away for hours, hiding in some nook or cranny for hours with a large tome to read and escape physical training. Despite this, he grew tall and thin and developed an appreciation for exercise at least after reading about its benefits in a Maesters recording.
Leo was named after the Lord Paramount of the Reach and Warden of the South, a man recently deceased but still a gesture from Ryam, Leo's father, of the loyalty of House Hightower. And many times Leo considers how his namesake would take him. This pressure to do well has always existed even as a second-born son and Leo is hyper-aware of his flaws while rarely acknowledging his strengths. Luckily his family is always there to remind him of his idyllic memory, intelligence, and quick wit.
When he was ten while visiting the docks he was witness to a Brawl. He was protected, after his house guards were swallowed by the mob, by two unlikely men wearing simple leathers and rapiers. The two men ensured no harm came to the boy and afterward swore their swords and lives to Leo. Cosimo and Phario had been one-time merchants, one-time mercenaries, and often guards for Volantene highborn and so the Braavosi easily transitioned to the guarding of Leo. Now the three are hardly seen without each other and some have taken to calling them the triarchs.
Keeping with his tradition of not training, Leo has never been knighted nice shown any interest in starting the process. Nor has he shown interest in joining the Citadel as a Maester. He instead serves as his father, and older brother's left hand. Advising and offering his insights into issues plaguing the family. Routinely he can be found in the library, a study, or walking the city.
Name: Ashton Hightower, Blade of Oldtown
Age: 19 (born in 183 AC)
Appearance:
The tallest of the Hightowers just so happens to also be their best swordsman. Six foot two, Ashton is a merging of his two elder brothers. His features are sharp yet soft, and almost chiseled they are so precise. Quite handsome, Ashton has been known to cause a few double-takes and has had many a maiden attempt to woo him. His hair is a softer lighter brown than his brothers and it even takes a soft shine when in the sun. His eyes are a piercing bright blue which shines brighter when he is thinking or concentrating. Those eyes become cold and calculating thoughts in combat which is where Ashton thrives. Exceptionally quick, and intelligent Ashton develops his fighting style after analyzing the style of his opponent. The Valyrian sword Vigilance is always on his left hip even with the lad being ambidextrous.
Biography:
Born third, his parents were now quite used to the routine. However, fate is never happier to twist those routines. Ashton was born exactly five minutes before his twin, Alicent. And the expected easy delivery was made complex. Luckily the skills of the Maesters and the Fortitude of Lady Alys, Ashton, and Alicent's mother, a tragedy was averted. The twins became the delight of the High Tower and were showered with visits, fawned over by servants and Highborn, and served to cause smiles from the citizens of Oldtown. The twin delights they began to be called.
As they grew the twins were inseparable and while attempts had been made to give them their personalized learning it was hopeless and so Lord Hightower ordered that a merging of learning would have to take place. As such, Alicent was present during Ashton's martial training and Ashton was present during Alicent's lessons with the Septa. The two caused a great stir but still the twin delights often just caused smiles and small chuckles. Ashton was fiercely protective of his sister and often would get into fights to defend her honor from perceived insults from the other boys.
As the twins grew older, however, they did begin to form their own identities and begin to separate. A good thing as it was when Ashton was twelve that he was sent to Squire for Ser Ryon Dayne, the current Sword of the Morning. It was still difficult to say goodbye but to this day Ashton considers it one of the best moves he could make. Ashton flourished as a Squire, trying to always go above and beyond what was expected. He was a patient and attentive learner and took to the intricacies of being a Knight well. He was a natural talent with the sword, and while he would be trained and was proficient in most weaponry it was the sword where he was the most deadly.
His style of fighting was not flashy or glory-seeking, instead serving as exceptionally efficient and patient. Ashton never made the first move, instead always watching and adapting based on what he saw his opponent do. He never underestimated his opponent and when he was beaten he always attempted to speak with the opponent after and learn from the defeat. Now at nineteen, he was an exceptionally dangerous swordsman wielding the Hightower Valyrian blade, Vigilance.
More than willing to wait for his moment, and not in any rush to leave Ryon's side, Ashton has still yet to be Knighted and so continues to serve the Dayne in his duties as a Knight. He has also struck up friendships with other Knights, though for the most part keeps to himself as he's somewhat awkward in social situations.
Name: Gerold Hightower
Age: 18, born 184 AC
Appearance:
The shortest of all of the Hightower lads Gerold still stands at a respectable five foot nine. A rogue at heart, Gerold has long light brown hair which falls to just his shoulders. His eyes are a deep blue that you could get lost while staring into and he is very thin. Preferring speed over all else Gerold prefers the Rapiers and the water dancing styles of Braavos. Extremely talented in the art, Gerold physically represents the form with easy flowing movements and speed. He is handsome, but his cockiness and arrogance are always shown on his face with a smirk that many have said they wish to smack off the boy. Gerold is usually seen in a simple white linen shirt sprinting down the docks after playing a prank on someone or challenging some poor merchant to a duel. He can be respectful however and cleans up well, being an impressive and charming noble son in court settings.
Biography:
Born to the Hightowers on a bright summer day, Gerold was destined to be a firecracker. Doted upon by all Gerold learned quickly how to use his charms to his advantage. A prankster, no one was safe from the young lad when in the High Tower and he had to be watched constantly when guests visited as even they could be potential targets. Gerold always got along with the regular people more so than other highborn and he had countless friends in Oldtown where he would run off to and away from his lessons.
Gerold became Streetwise and worldly, combining his charm and wit with shrewd experience. He adopted a cockiness and was the instigator of numerous fights. Despite this, he did truly love his family and always regretted his wayward ways. More than one time he wished he had been born a simple commoner.
Eventually, a compromise had been settled. Gerold was to be betrothed to the Sealord of Braavos's daughter and live in Braavos itself. And within that city, he truly thrived. He was taught the art of water dancing and took to it like a fish to water. A natural fencer Gerold has become more Braavosi than Westerosi and fits into the crowd. He has grown to be a competent diplomat for his age and while his arrogant smirk remains, it is now serving as more of a mask instead of a weakness. Within Braavos he remains, awaiting the time that his betrothal is requested by his father to the King.
Jedi Knight, Heir to House Darklyn, 'Rulers' of Denon
Homeworld:
Denon
Appearance:
A young man with an even younger face. Skai is routinely thought to be younger than his already young twenty-five years thanks to his baby face and dimpled smile. Skai's ginger hair is brushed to the right and reaches to his ears while his neck area is kept clean. He has blue eyes and fair skin, which is littered with freckles, particularly on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. He is tall, standing at 6'2" though he seems to be averagely built. He has three different outfits depending on the situation at hand. A set of simple Jedi Robes, an elaborate dark blue and gold suit, and armor.
Some kids had nothing, were born into a terrible situation, and dealt with constant loss and tribulations. Skai was not that kind of child, in fact, he was the opposite. Born into the powerful political family that ruled the planet of Denon, Skai never was lacking in anything growing up. His family and more so, the very planet were very pro-Imperial as Denon was once a stronghold world for the Empire and one of the more famous Generals, General Veers came from their planet. However, the Denonaise were always more diplomatic, being situated on two hyper lanes. It was thanks to that diplomatic expertise, that the Darklyn family and Denon were welcomed back into the new Alliance. And while the political landscape of the galaxy slowly settled down, Skai was found to have Force Sensitivity while he and the Darklyn family visited Coruscant to celebrate the reopening of the Jedi Temple and revivification of that Order.
Skai ended up joining and studied as one of the first of many new Padawans. Most of his time was spent diplomatically, but due to his aristocratic nature and upbringing that was something he was naturally talented with. Most of his time was spent studying Lightsaber combat. He has recently graduated and due to the influx of Padawans has already been asked to consider if he was ready to take one of his own.
Powers and Abilities:
BASIC ABILITIES: -Diplomacy -Investigation -perception -Piloting -Lightsaber Combat -Squad Based Tactics FORCE ABILITIES -Telekinesis -Force Valor -Art of Movement -Tutaminis -Force Stun LIGHTSABER FORMS -Makashi -Shien -Ataru
(Additional note. I have Skai as about to receive a Padawan. Probably in his first post. If anyone WANTS that spot, please let me know. If not, I plan to play them as a secondary character/npc)
∞ Sunny; a black-spotted Bengal cat ∞ Poe; Raven from Apollo ∞ Gyr; Hawk from Apollo
O T H E R
∞ Detailed Relationships
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____________________________________________________________________________ L I K E S
✔Anything and everything to do with music ✔Studying and researching medicine ✔Organization, order, control ✔Trying new and different things. He'll try anything at least once ✔Training with his Spear and Shield or bow ✔Helping others succeed, caring for injuries ✔Any kind of gaming. (Is always the healer or support) ✔Sunny days in any temperature ✔Playing Chess against children of Athena ✔Talking people through problems or issues ✔Watching medical dramas, or binge watching them ✔Any and all forms of coffee. None of that decaf though
D I S L I K E S
✘Disrespect of medical facilities ✘Anyone who says "I'm fine" after an injury without treatment ✘All who wish harm on others for no reason ✘Decaf coffee, why ruin coffee? ✘Disorganization, especially in the medical tent ✘Medics who think they're children of Ares ✘Consuming alcohol or drugs not related to medicine ✘Chasing down campers to force them to take medication ✘Being told he doesn't care about his patients ✘Talking about his past before camp ✘Google medical degree self diagnose experts ✘Total Darkness
____________________________________________________________________________ P E R S O N A L I T Y
Though so is everyone when you get down to brass tacks. Lukas is a mesh of a few of his biggest influencers. His mother, his step-parents, teachers, and the campers of Half-blood. He's a very affable person, willing to give anyone a moment of his time to talk to and listen to what they have to say, although he doesn't go out of his way to talk to others unless they look like they could use the company. He plays at the edges of conversation, attentive and polite but non-engaging until directly addressed. He likes to find his place in a conversation before jumping in and taking stock of everyone else first. He doesn’t like the spotlight, preferring others to shine.
He's the honest type, not to a brutal level but he was raised to tell the truth and doesn't see the good in telling someone a lie. However, he isn't naive and can navigate white lies well enough. For the big stuff, he has a simple philosophy. He would rather someone tell him the truth than spare his feelings. To him, if he found out later it would make the situation worse knowing a friend told him something to protect his feelings.
As stated before Lukas prefers to skirt the edges of conversation which means he neither likes nor covets being the center of attention and as a result isn't really very assertive nor a push-over. Neither a leader nor a follower Lukas does his best to articulate his opinion on a situation and is very comfortable allowing someone else to make the final call, though he will argue his points if he believes in them strongly enough. He's a bit of an enigma with those things and can make larger groups complicated for him if there’s not a regimented pecking order.
Lukas had a brief run-in with depression during his younger pre-teen years where he spent a lot of time on the street hustling and doing what he could to get by. He suffered greatly and was forced to grow up quickly. It used to be one of his greatest flaws and he still sometimes struggles with it though now he is a lot more secure about himself and focuses on that instead of the past. This also can be a detriment as he closes off when he does this, hyper-focusing on one issue to get through whatever triggered him.
Speaking of closing off, Lukas is quite an escapist when it comes to things he can't control. He was raised, when he was finally escorted to camp, in strict rules settings and when he was a young teen he rebelled heavily at every rule possible. He matured out of the tantrums and rule-breaking quickly though and instead started using music as a form of escapism when the world got too stressful or the walls started to close in. He has since evolved into using daydreams, and a form of meditation by watching others succeed.
Lukas skirts the line for the most part when it comes to his outward show of agreeableness. While overall cooperative, he can get quite competitive as well, a need to prove himself manifesting from his childhood along with a shot of not wanting to let his family down. He's tactful and edges over the line to be too agreeable, as he does care a bit too much what others think of him and how he presents himself. He's used to bullies, but it's the people that seem like they're friendly that he focuses on. What do they really think of him? This feeling isn't overwhelming but always in the back of his mind as a thought during social engagements.
He is a very neat person, taking pride in the organization, cleanliness, and structure of all his activities. His room is almost always spotless and that is mirrored in his appearance, work, sports, and really all of his doings. While not to the level of someone with OCD, Lukas does have a system and can be thrown off if that system is disrupted or disturbed. He can often time be seen tidying up the Apollo cabin or the medical facilities.
Lukas is also an extremely sympathetic person, and his ability to be empathetic is far beyond his years. He respects even those that bully him or have bullied him and does his best not to judge. Temper sometimes gets the better of him and he will defend himself but he tends to feel bad about it later and always tries to mend broken fences instead of leaving planks laying on the ground. He's highly analytical and likes to think of the many reasons why something occurred instead of allowing his emotions to boil over. He's not perfect though, and when he does lose control it takes a bit to regain it, almost like a solar flare. He’s extremely neutral, trying to make all sides of an argument feel like they’ve ‘won’ and his ability to mediate is unnatural.
Speaking of anger though, Lukas for the most part rarely does get angry. A combination of his empathy and analytical mind. Throw in a few other ingredients such as his escapist attitude and control over himself and you have a relatively stable and cooled-down person. Don’t let that fool you, however, though hard to do if you do manage to piss off this child of Apollo, you had better prepare your aloe vera and sunblock because you will get burned.
There’s a lot of dueling factors with his personality. He’s calm and pacifying while also being brave and assertive. He’s fun and lighthearted while also being intelligent, logical, and grounded. He’s laidback while also being responsible and hardworking. He’s insecure but not melodramatic. He’s very caring and protective but not pushy.
____________________________________________________________________________ B I O G R A P H Y
In Germany, there is a lovely city of Cologne and within that city exists the neighborhood of Deutz. Within this neighborhood resides the Cresswell family, a family of professors, archaeologists, researchers, and academics. The Cresswell family prided themselves on being multi-cultured, boasting bloodlines to Norse, Greek, and Roman figures in history. This rich bloodline is what prompted the family business to be so heavily engrained into studying that rich history. One member however was going to get so much more. While on a dig in Greece, Claire Cresswell would meet one of the most charming and beautiful men she had ever met. She was entirely swept off her feet and after a few more drinks, some final comments, and an entire night spent under the stars and well... The rest is history.
Claire ended up becoming pregnant after the engagement. She knew that the child was special, knew somehow that the man she had been with was someone more. She was proven correct when the God visited her in Germany, a surprise visit to spend more time with this mortal he quite enjoyed time with. He hadn't been surprised to see she was pregnant and the two spent the entire week together, other than his quick absences to deal with 'business'. Knowing all of this made Claire not only grateful but willing to be a single mother with the promise of Apollo visiting when possible. She wasn't naive and knew that it would mostly be a solo job but so long as her child knew their father she would be content.
Lukas was born eight months later with no complications and radiating health. The doctors were even perplexed at how easy the birth had gone and studied the case for years to come, finding nothing. Lukas was moved to the Cresswell Manse a week later and began living life, which for a baby meant three things really. The picture of health followed him, and he grew from baby to toddler to pre-schooler. Lukas was a bright and energetic child, always having the energy to do some activity. And once he learned to walk, it was over for the poor young mother and the other members of the family, forced to chase the boy around the park.
Life was good but like all other good things, it eventually had to come down. Lukas was eight years old when Cresswell Manse caught fire and destroyed so much. Lukas was helped out by his nanny but his mother, along with most others perished from the fire or complications of smoke inhalation soon after. Out of the five Cresswell family members living in the Manse, one survived and was recovering from heavy burns in the hospital. Care of Lukas was transferred to a cadet branch of the family in New York.
The change was striking for the once carefree and life-loving boy. He took to silence mostly, keeping his thoughts to himself only speaking if directly spoken to or questioned. Slowly, ever so slowly he began to heal. It took three years to get back to a semblance of what he was but once again the fates seemed to be against him. His Aunt and Uncle were killed in a car crash by a drunk driver on their way home from a show in the city. Lukas was once again taken from the home and placed with a foster family until other arrangements could be formed. On the first night, the eleven-year-old ran away. It was a mistake of course, but for young Lukas, he just needed to getaway.
It took time to adjust to life on the street. It was the worst time in his life, but he got through it. He was arrested on his Twelfth birthday and taken to the county juvenile center. Instead of the foster agency coming to get him, Lukas was given to his father... The introduction to the God of the Sun was a complicated mess of emotions and Lukas blew up on the God, almost literally, his powers beginning to manifest now that Apollo claimed him fully. It was quick which would tell anyone who knew young Demi-gods just how pissed off the boy was. All Apollo did was to place a hand on the lad's shoulder and suddenly everything seemed so much better. Apollo spent the rest of the day talking and speaking before meeting with his sister Artemis and a few of her huntresses in Central Park. Father and son take a final moment before the huntresses escort him to Camp Half-blood.
Once at camp, Lukas kept mostly to himself, becoming a rebel and bucking rules. A problem child he gave more than one Councillor and instructor headaches and had many people worried about him. But time is the ultimate healer and the routine of camp life helped scar over the rough patch and year after year Lukas got better and better. Even now, at Seventeen years of age, he hasn't totally gotten rid of everything. But with maturity comes closure and better ways of coping. Lukas just hopes that it's enough.
____________________________________________________________________________ D E M I G O D I N F O
C A B I N
Cabin Eleven ⧿ Apollo (God of prophecy & oracles, music, song & poetry, archery, healing, plague & disease, & the protection of the young)
S T A T U S
Full-Time Camper
T I M E A T C A M P
Four Years ∞ Has collected four beads ∞ Arrived when he was twelve
R E S P O N S A B I L I T I E S
∞ Head Medic of the Infirmary
W E A P O N S
∞ Alvitr and Goldscale - Spear/Shield combo (Disguased as a watch) ∞ Heartstrike - Recurve Bow (No disguise)
Biokinesis : ۵ Inheriting his father's ability in Biokinesis, this is Lukas's strongest ability by far. Within Biokinesis he is proficient in three sub-categories. First is the control and formation of disease: With this sub-power, Lukas can eliminate disease from a patient he is able to touch or inflict them using the same method or by creating a physical application for his arrows. He is also able to create new diseases. His second sub-power is Hemokinesis: Lukas is able to slow or quicken blood flow, can stop it with intense concentration, and can change its makeup. Essentially allowing anyone to be a universal donor. He has also been known to use this power to calm exceptionally tense situations by lowering blood pressure and 'relaxing' people. His third and final sub-power and by far the strongest is Vitakinesis: His ability to heal is influenced by more than just his father, his Norse Legacy coming into play to strengthen the potency. With a physical touch, Lukas is able to sense current ailments and injuries on his patient, and then with a whispered prayer and music, he can restore the patient back to optimum health, without scarring or residual damage. This ability is Lukas's most used, explored, and trained power. When healing his skin gains a slightly golden hue and his pupils turn to a golden amber color. It should be noted that Lukas's healing lowers in potency during the night or within locations such as the Underworld cut off from the Light. Within these locations, his healing takes a toll on his own life force.
Archery : ۵ Like most other children of Apollo, Lukas's Archery is on point as is his ability to shoot a basketball, throw a football, baseball, or any other ranged projectile. He is nowhere near on par with his siblings when it comes to his power, however, but ahead of many others. His bow is his go-to weapon should he be required to fight.
Musical Aptitude : ۵ Lukas has the ability to pick up any instrument and instantly know how to play it. He has perfect pitch, a deep knowledge of musical theory, and an amazing singing voice that all comes naturally to him. He hardly needs to practice. His aptitude also allows for anyone who listens to hear what they would like even if he was singing or playing something else entirely. This ability is also known to be able to induce slight emotion based on the hearer is feeling at the time and what they hear.
Photokinesis : ۵ A limited power for Lukas, but one that at times can be potent. The general application is that Lukas always seems to have a natural tan whether he spends time in the sun or not. His skin has a golden sheen of health surrounding it and can appear bronze-like in direct sunlight. His hair can sometimes be described as sun-like or 'waves of gold'. The active application is Lukas's ability to store the sunlight in his body and release it in a large burst around him. Lukas has no control over this power whatsoever and it has only manifested in times of emotional turmoil for him, or when he grows angry.
____________________________________________________________________________ O T H E R
Lukas is a multilingual individual & is fluent in not only English, but also German, Greek, and is learning Spanish.
Can't stand Snakes due to a Curse on the Apollo kids.
Is known to be able to quote any Monty Python skit from memory with voices.
Secretly loves playing tank roles in games.
Goes above and beyond for the younger campers.
He loves performing for people.
Will randomly break into song, usually Disney-related.
____________________________________________________________________________ L I K E S
✔Gaming (Computer generally) ✔Star Wars ✔Listening to music ✔Swimming ✔Running ✔Lord of the Rings ✔Game of Thrones ✔Training ✔The Cold ✔The Norse Pantheon ✔Hunting ✔Traveling
D I S L I K E S
✘Manticores ✘His actual father ✘Most of the Greek Pantheon ✘Feeling and being weak ✘Freezing, and in-action ✘Being constantly on the run ✘Being ignored ✘Any reference to his mother ✘Speaking about his past ✘Being alone ✘Those that prey on the innocent ✘Judgemental people
____________________________________________________________________________ P E R S O N A L I T Y
____________________________________________________________________________ B I O G R A P H Y
To Be written.
____________________________________________________________________________ D E M I G O D I N F O
C A B I N
Cabin Fifteen ⧿ Morpheus (Greek god of Dreams, Son of Sleep)
S T A T U S
Full-Time Camper
T I M E A T C A M P
None ∞ Has collected no beads ∞ Yet to Arrive
R E S P O N S A B I L I T I E S
∞ None as of yet
W E A P O N S
∞ Krasa - Celestial Bronze Spear, applies sonic and kinetic energy on impact, painful vibrations on human targets, a booming blast against monsters (Disguised as a large pen) ∞ Verja - Celestial Bronze Shield, impact resistant (No disguise) ∞ Twin Throwing Axes ∞ Twin Throwing Knives ∞ Boot Knife ∞ Back Up Axe ∞ Two-handed axe ∞ Armor
Mystiokinesis : ۵ While able to use magic for anything to a lesser extent than many other demi-gods, especially the children of Hecate, Korbin's ability seems to be mostly defensive, wards and runes that protect himself from harm, negative magic, and annoyances. In addition, Korbin has a powerful command over the Mist, able to use it to prevent mortals from seeing or remembering anything.
Odikinesis : ۵ A strange manifestation of the power gifted by Odin, Korbin's ability could really be described as something else entirely. For Korbin, it's all about calming people down with the ability or bolstering his allies fighting with him. His Odikinesis is specifically tailored to countering others manipulating his emotions while still inspiring others. This ability also tends to work directly with Korbin's Hypnokinesis and when in tandem can even drain children of War.
Hypnokinesis : ۵ As the child of Sleep itself, Korbin's only power and most despised, despite its power is hypnokinesis. Korbin can put an individual to sleep instantly with a single touch. The type of sleep, the duration, and power can all be manipulated but he has no power over dreams themselves. Another manifestation of his power is an aura around him that drains and tires out anyone that comes into it that wishes harm on the Demi-god. This power has been shown to affect even powerful monsters. When working in tandem with Odikinesis, the power can even drain and exhausts the children of War. Korbin can also activate this ability at will to affect even those that do not wish him ill will and is always active while he is sleeping. This has caused his cabin in Norway to be routinely left alone due to the potent effects.
Telumkinesis : ۵ Yet another power gifted by Odin, Korbin's manifestations of this power are simple in nature. The first is complete control over standard Norse weapons. This includes axes, knives, swords, shields, and bows that would be Norse or Viking in nature. Korbin understands and can use any of these weapons to a high skill level and can manipulate them in the air. The second manifestation is the ability to protect his own weapons from other Telumkinetics. It becomes a battle of wills, but with Korbin's other abilities, when he senses his weapons being attacked he can sense the direction and location of the attack and respond if needed.
____________________________________________________________________________ O T H E R
Korbin is a multilingual individual & is fluent in not only English, but also Italian, French, and Old Norse.
Has known of his abilities and history for ten years.
Korbin has been fighting monsters hunting him for the same ten years. Helped by his mother.
He is entirely ignored by his real father, Hypnos.
Is Extremely more mature than his age suggests, but he loves trying to just be a kid.
Suffers from PTSD.
Has a deep bond with his adopted father Odin, and his wolf gifted by the Norse god. The Wolf and Korbin are dangerous when fighting together.
Routinely speaks with, is helped by, and protected by Odin. Their relationship is extremely close.