Personality: Al is a somber man, cynical to the extreme. He clearly cares little about mincemeating when speaking his opinion out loud and spares no one of his verbal lashing. His usual gruff demeanour is only a consequence of how war-scarred and emotionally numb he is, having grown a thick shell to protect his sanity over the years. Beneath all that, however, lies the once gentle nature of a man who wanted to do what was right for others, and that he would protect the weak with his own strength. Having said that, kids and generally youngsters are exempt from his cynical demeanour, and he has always time to lecture the young about the ways of the world.
Appearance: Albert is a grizzled middle aged man, with graying sideburns on his otherwise brown hair. Despite the surgence of wrinkles and the scars that pepper his entire face and body, he is still a bit of a rough handsome devil with blue eyes. Of average height and constitution, he usually wears a checkered sweater with a shirt, jeans and boots whenever he's off duty. On duty... well whatever his current chief says he has to wear. He carries a butterfly knife at all times, a gift from a fellow comrade-in-arms.
Background: Albert was born in some small town in North England. For the most part, his childhood was humble, but pretty uneventful. Just daily routines and chores, and perhaps the odd troublemaking or two. Born the eldest of three, Albert also learned from an early age the responsibility of protecting and teaching the younger. He mused in his infantile behaviour, that perhaps his calling in life was a teacher. However, when the Starbursts happened, his entire world vanished in a single night. His town was ravaged by monsters when he was on a field trip with many others as a teenager. His entire family perished.
The shock made him reconsider his calling in life, and after he hit the legal adult age after being put under estate care, the young man jumped in the armed forces as a sniper, who were bearing the strain of trying to hold the monsters off all while waiting for the Epics to take them out. Over and over again, he tossed himself in the battlefield with his many comrades, knowing that he could not win, only buy time and act as a human shield for the civilians to be spared of the brunt of the clash of monstrous beings versus the Epics. He never faltered. He never truly surrendered nor despaired. The hellish battlefield, and seeing comrades being replaced by new faces over and over again only made him more resolute. His rank ballooned up, mainly because field promotions were abundant in such a chaotic scenario.
And then, just as he was about to break, he managed to do the impossible. He managed to take out monsters with only his grit, his men, and decidedly inferior firepower. The events were rare and isolate enough to be noticed, much less alter the course of the war, but the deed had been done. Sooner than later, Albert was approached by his superiors, and decided to lend him to other places and battlefields in the world, usually where the worst situation was.
It was then when Albert broke. He broke two things. First of all, the preconception of Epics as untouchable, and second of them, the world record on sniping distance, as he put away a maddened Epic with a single headshot far from his reach. For his gruesome deed, the propaganda machine churned out a name for him. Gungnir, spear of Odin. He always found that nickname too pretentious, but he conceded, if only because it would lift up the spirit of his comrades in arms.
However, the victories he had won were phyrric, and in the end, the reality forced the governments to shut down the insane operations that had ordered Albert to do, specially after the show of power by the High Epics in Manhattan, which drove deep the point on how badly outclassed normal people were. Albert was relieved from duty, and with great honors. But the man couldn't stay idle. All those years in the battlefield, and knowing that somehow, the battle still raged on.
It was then when he heard about a certain ECPD department in Manhattan that could use people like him...
@AtomicNut Accepted. I would consider making Gregor blonde to emphasize his Lannister heritage and to make it more likely that he is a known bastard. Also we don't have very many blondes in the RP haha.
Who's available for a collab? We need to get moving on some pirate action.
There. Blonde. Happy?
Edit: Also if collab is on the weekend, I can help.
@AtomicNut It looks good, my question would be how Gregor would know that Tyrion is his father since he was born before the end of the series and he had no acknowledged bastards by then. And it seems unlikely for him to be stripped of a chain for sleeping with someone. Qyburn was stripped of his chain for performing unsanctioned experiments and plenty of Maesters use whores. It'd make more sense if the shame simply forced Gregor to abandon his chain. Maybe he didn't even complete a chain and gave it up because of the celibacy.
Okay, i added a couple of events.
He doesn't truly know that Tyrion's his father. Just that he's born from a Lannister nobleman.
Also he quit the chain cause the thrill of adventure and women.
Name: Ser Gregor Hill "the Sly" formerly Master Gregor. Age:27 Affiliation: Formally no one. Informally, House Lannister. Appearance: It would be forgiven if one would believe that the father of Gregor would be Jaime Lannister. Like the renowned knight, he has a rather striking appeareance, with the vibrant green eyes of the Lannisters and a fair face, crowned by golden hair which he keeps neatly shorn. He also posseses a small, trimmed goatee. His bone structure and build are also similar, if a bit shorter and thinner than the renowned Kingslayer. Sir Gregor prefers to dress in comfortable, somber clothes, a throwback to his studies as Maester, but he finds no trouble in donning armor when he needs to. He even has designed his own crest, a red book trespassed by a golden sword. Profession: Bon-Vivant, hedge knight, former maester. Equipment: Gregor owns a worn and used half plate with no decorations, as well as a longsword. He also owns a steed and a kite shield with his personal coat of arms. Skills: Gregor is a trickster, and he knows it. Of quick wit and tongue, he knows how to answer japes with japes, offer some food for thought, and even woo ladies. Being the son of Tyrion, he also shares with him an unquenchable thirst for knowledge as well as a keen eye for administration. Unlike Tyrion, however, it seems that Gregor takes very much like his uncle, Jaime Lannister, having inherited a good sword arm, for when every trickery he knows doesn't cut it (many people are surprised by this fact). He is fond of his iron link (War mastery), Yellow Gold link (Math and finances) and Silver(medicine) links he earned as a maester, and although he also knows how to handle ravens aswell, he professes a reluctance to deal with the little beasties who defecate on everything and everyone. Unlike his father, he's completely hopeless at Cyvasse, funnily enough.
Biography:Gregor was born in a brothel in the Westerlands, due to a certain well known propensity of Lannisters towards women of dubious morality, and his mother being one of the usual picks for them. The choice of his name was rather ironic, as if somehow they were trying to name him after the Mountain in a phenomal bout of bad taste. Being baseborn, he became acquainted with manual labor pretty soon in his life, and while he still continued to live in the whorehouse, it was trusted of him to find another way to feed his mouth. He became a gopher for the different businesses in the neightbourhood, thanks to his good memory and intelligent dispostion. This caught the attention of a charitable Maester who was on his way to Lannisport, and offered him to take the young lad as apprentice in the Citadel, claiming his wits were a rare find.
And thus a new era for the Hill bastard opened. Gregor claimed that when he arrived at the Citadel everything seemed shiny and wonderful, but as years passed it would dull its luster into apathy. Gregor nevertheless was a model student, and rarely complained. He diligently applied himself to his tasks, discovering his love for the gold and the sword along the way, as well as finding extremely useful the ins and outs of the human body. However, as he grew, he also found out that apples don't fall too far from the tree. He craved the company of the fair gender, and his cravings only went worse as time passed. Inexplicably, he found himself most attracted to the one forbidden fruit of Oldtown, the novices of the motherhouse.
One day, it all shattered in tiny pieces. Emboldened by his feat of forging the Maester's chain at a young age and harried by the constant bullying of his peers while he was training, he decided to cave in to his base desires and target a novice called Rhaenys. The poor girl had no chance. The combination of not seeing a lot of men in her life, her innocence, Gregor's looks, and his quick tongue made the woman all but pledge her eternal love to the newfound maester and offer her maidenhood to him. However, when the deed was done, she could not keep her mouth shut when pressed, and Gregor's punishment was to be sent to Skagos, a remote place in the lands of Westeros. The Faith of Seven insisted in more punishment, but they were rebuked.
The young man was at a fork in the road of his life. On one hand, he had talent to be a maester, but on the other, the thrill of seeking the opposite gender was an intoxicating drug to him. He wondered what to do, and if Skagosi would truly even have some fair women to woo. Sunken in his thoughts, he was approached by several cutthroats on his way out of the ways of Oldtown, no doubt a gift from the scorned Septas. They thought he was an easy prey, one of those bookworms and pencilpushers. They understimated his sword arm. And before they knew, three of them laid dead, two more clutching their wounds. Gregor didn't hold back when he defended himself, as his blood-stained clothes attested.
When other people arrived at the commotion Gregor was in a state of daze. Surrounded by the three corpses of the people he had killed, with the rest of the thugs running away from him, a bloodied blade on his hand. It struck like a revelation upon him. He could simply not part with the thrill. The thrill of discovering new things, but also the thrill of seducing a fair maiden, and the thrill of clashing blades. He decided he could not abide to choose one, and he would rather have all of them. Smiling, he took out of his chain from his neck, uttering an apology to the other Maester that had assisted him to reach the gates and was on his way back to the Citadel, but had returned upon hearing the conmotion. Gregor weakly smiled saying that perhaps a maester's chain wasn't what he fancied in life, and he left.
Suddenly turned a vagabond with little on his own, he struck an odd friendship with a hedge knight, Ser Milford the Rat, which was perhaps, even poorer than Gregor himself. Both exchanged tales of their lives, and realized that they could help eachother. Milford would coach Gregor's sword arm and grant him knighthood to let the young man earn a living, and in turn Gregor would use his medical knowledge to alleviate the ravages of old age of the man.
The mutual association was short, even if fruitful, and after knighting Gregor in the celebration of winning some prize in a tourney, the old man died of a massive hemorrhage due to drinking too much. Gregor buried his mentor under a tree, using parts of his belongings as gravestone, but he kept the horse and the prize money. Of course, given his situation, he knew he had to do something to avoid losing all again, as money attracted all sorts of bandits. He decided to head for King's Landing, a massive hub of commerce on its own, a place where he could also earn some coin as knight... and most important, a place where Lannister nobles lurked aswell. After several financial moves, he managed to buy a modest whorehouse to become a financial tether and base of operations (and also to satisfy the cravings of the flesh), all while he waited for a chance to gain information about his past.
Notes: He also owns a brothel in King's landing. Tyrion would be proud.
Recent History: Split between several sides of the war, and being unfortunate enought to support the wrong king during the tide of the war, House Florent was left in tatters and humilliated, as even Brightwater Keep had been granted to the Tyrell. However, in the brink of sheer dissolution, Brightwater Keep was rightfully returned to their owners, after the two long wars. The late lord Alekyne Florent managed, at the cost of his lifespan and premature aging, bring together the different quarreling factions within the house, and entrust it to his son, Alester Florent (named because of his grandfather). The house of Florent has seemingly crawled back to a position of power, but still the ravages of war are present in their numbers, a mix between R'hllor worshippers, traditionalists who do not want to let go of their grudges, Targayen supporters and those who want to turn a new leaf and even bury their grudges with the Tyrells. The house now boasts a reputation for hosting former war refugees and even outcast magic users as well as former Stannis supporters.
Family Members:
-Lord Alester Florent the Younger(20), ummarried -His sister, Lady Irise Florent(10)
-His kinsman Lady Mella Florent(26), priestess of R'hllor
-His kinsman Ser Colin Florent "Old Colin"(72) Castellan of Brightwater -his son Ser Merrell Florent(37), Knight of the Green Hand
Name: Alester Florent "the Younger" Aka "Les" Age:20 Appearance: Alester is a lanky man, with the characteristic ears of the Florents, and rather unimposing facial features. He cannot grow a beard, and he has prominent bushy eyebrows. His hair is dirt brown, and he usually keeps it short but unruly. His facial structure is rather thin. He does have some sort of pale blue eyes and a pronounced squint. He usually dresses rather well, and he wears a winter fox's pelt draped on his shoulders. He owns a rather functional plate with plain features save a prominent Florent coat-of-arms on the chestplate.
Role: Lord of Brightwater.
Equipment: A satchel with his diary and writing materials, his trusty full plate, a well made sword with a fox head in the pommel, a well crafted Oaken shield and the Valyrian Dagger Knightslayer
Skills: Alester was born with the curse of overflowing talent when he should have been mediocre so that his rule doing the impossible would have been short. A gifted polymath, in another day or era he would have become a mighty Hand of the King or King himself, but in the current form, every ounce of his talents is drained to keep House Florent together. A genius with the sword, but surpassed by those with less obligations and better trained, and a veritable scholar, but without the almost endless repository of knowledges of Maesters. Alester does know how administer his power and finances, as well as being a shrewd tactician. But above all of them, Alester knows how to hide his talents well, and exploit his inherent lack of charisma to let others think they're leading him. He is also hopeless when it comes to poetry and courting ladies, aswell.
Biography: Alester, the only born children of Alekyne Florent (as his father was too busy trying to herd the bickering foxes), was put under strain even from an early age as a desperate attempt to make him the glue that bound the entire house together. His childhood wasn't even such, and he was constantly lectured and instructed. He nevertheless never bickered, nor lashed out once, for he was a perceptive child, and he was fully aware on how truly dangerous the house could become should he mistepped even once. The young Alester learnt to shut in his true intentions and emotions from an early age, only showing his true nature in front of his parents or the few servants he trusted. Dismissed as a weak and meek heir by many, few were too also those who paid heed to the young fox strutting around the keep, immersing himself in books in the library or watching the house men-at-arms and trying to emulate them.
Encumbered by the burden of duty, young Alester always wished to be an errant knight, having to answer no one and having no one at his charge, and on his tenth birthday, spurred by the jealousy he felt towards his newborn sister Iris, he plotted escaping the keep to live adventures in the Seven Kingdoms. And thus one day, he escaped the keep, by disguising himself as smallfolk servant. Of course, this kind of behaviour became more difficult in the long run, as he not only had to evade the men his father had sent to retrieve him, but also pretend to be a commoner. He was bound to fail eventually, and he did, after two days he was returned to the keep, and scolded. His father was furious at the betrayal, and unable to cope with the pressure, he eventually pleaded to his knees for the young man not to fail to become the cornerstone of the house. Seeing such a hardworking man crumble before his eyes shook Alester, and he understood how grave his duty was, and how he would have to face it rather than wishfully thinking in evading responsabilities. He would also never feel jealousy of his sister again, and understood his duties towards her.
However, at the same time, his short experience with the smallfolk removed a cloth of innocence before his eyes. Seeing how in the end, they were not so different, just perhaps uneducated an on the other side of the balance of power made Alester be fond of treating his servants well, and try to treat everyone with courtesy and attention, irrespectively of their station. This had the side effect of etiquette eventually loosening, and servants and other people in the keep casually calling him "Les". He however would never allow to be called Les by people whom he had any sort of reservation and disrespect. Likewise, he would always spare a smile towards his sister, not matter how tired he was.
On his fifteen birthday, Alester learned he would have yet another sibling soon. But that never came to pass, as the baby was born dead upon delivery, and his mother perished aswell. Alester was devastated, but not as much as his father, who started to shut himself in, and sooner than later, the young man had to resort to become a lord in all but in name as he tried to cover from his father's declining will to live and health, taking to himself the burden to educate Irise aswell. He also had to decline things like marriage proposals, knowing full well he would never be able to dedicate as much time as he did so. He also started to attend social gatherings as a his duty, and he also tried to appear compliant with the Tyrell rule. He however, secretly resented the fact that he and his talents were chained by his duties all the while people like Ellion Tyrell could get all the adventures and women he wanted.
But the world was never fair, and he could never put his own selfish desires to that of House Florent. Swallowing that fact, however made him cynical and bitter in the inside, and robbed that of his sleep. He became more and more insomniac and manic, training like possessed and devouring books like if there were no tomorrow, as a way to quell the rage that built inside him. Bitterly, he finally understood what was killing his father, and he would probably one day suffer the same fate.
Alester's role became more evident when Alekyne, prematurely aged due to the strain died just before Aemon's wedding, and the entire House had to make haste to proclaim the new lord and bury the old one. Alester recalled that there were more power hungry stares than actual tearful faces in his father's funeral.
Name: Mella Florent Age:26 Appearance: Mella, surprisingly does not resemble much a Florent at all, and her father, Axell Florent, even less. A woman of rather elegant features and tall, her chest is rather small and modest, but she has rather pronounced hips and well-shaped legs, which she doesn't hesitates to show off with her dresses. She has a oval face with high cheekbones, and full lips. Her eyebrows are rather fine, and her nose small. She does possess, however, the large ears typical of all Florents, whose tips poke out of a well groomed hair of the color of embers. Her bangs often cover one of her haunting green eyes at times. Mella dresses in red robes, like all priests of R'hllor, but she has a touch of elegance in the form of white fox fur in the sleeves, as well as a belt made with fox tails. She also wears exquisite red gloves underneath the sleeves. Her skirts are often parted to show her legs. Role: Representative of the R'Hllor Faction, Headache of Alester. Equipment: Mella carries several books with rites, as well as a small ornate brazier to perform divinations and other sorceries. Skills: Mella was born as a noblewoman, but she embraced the faith of the Lord of Light from a young age. Mella is rather persuasive and charismatic, and does have her fair share of forethought (although she is often too haughty to display much wisdom). She has an encyclopedic memory, and knows the various rites of the Fire Priests, which allow her to perform the magical feats her faith is known for. She is able to use the fire to perform clairvoyant feats, entice people with glamorous illusions, and even conjure small flames. Mella is also versed in the Old Tongue, which she learned from her own mother.
Biography: Axell's parting shot even before he left this world by choking on a chicken bone could have not gotten any better even if he planned it. Begetting a child by House Redbeard and then abandoning this world, he ensured the orphaned child, Mella, to be both a legitimate member of Florent as well as a faithfully indoctrinated priestess. The priests wasted no time in filling the easily impressed brat that she had a special lineage, from a King Beyond the Wall no less, and that her father had become a Hand of the Queen (even if self appointed) as well as resenting that it was Alekyne the one taking the reins of the house, for he appeared meek and pliable. Thus, young Mella never had a good disposition towards her elder cousin and would incense the faction of her brothers and sisters of faith with outrageous comments.
Alekyne wished to punish her, but being close kin, he was all but powerless. Meanwhile, Mella had taken a liking to the R'hllor faith, very much like her own mother, and began to take the path of a priestess even at an early age. However, Alekyne did get a small victory, when he managed to make her change his newborn son's diapers and act as her nanny as a creative punishment. Having to do the role of a servant managed to curb the haughtiness of the young kid, but would eventually bite Alekyne in the back as Mella would then use this event as leverage to get things granted by Alester much later on.
Mella blossomed spectaculary as a teenager, becoming one of the fairest people of the Keep. This empowered her and made her feel like the mouthpiece of R'hlllor in the frequent gatherings. Few if any dared to rebuke that fact, she truly had a sweet way with words and an intoxicating charisma. However, she soon found that while charismatic, this did not make her the actual ruler of the keep.
It was just a phrase spoken out of place, on the death of her cousin, Lord Alekyne. Even though she was half distraught herself. Alester simply seemed to rebuke the comment, but then grabbed the priestess by the neck, and squeezed the air out of her throat, words whispered like daggers. He had no intention to become a kinslayer nor let the blood flow, but she had better wisen up or else, he claimed to say as he tossed her to the ground, adjusting his clothes. Mella, even though she had been overcome by fear saw a chink in the armor.
A chink she could exploit, and perhaps make Alester a great follower of R'hllor by igniting all his rage inside towards the heathens of the kingdoms...
Name:Colin Florent, AKA Old Colin Age:72 Appearance: An old man whose age is shown rather strikingly, he has a few strands of white hair in his balding head, and a haggard white beard. Couple with vivid blue eyes and the archetypical Florent ears, his face seems a bit caricaturesque of an old man, but despite this, he still has great pride in his strides. Despite his age, he maintains a good excellent shape, except perhaps for a limp in his left leg due to the war ravages and the missing middle finger of his right hand. He wears a well-worn Florent armor nearly all the times, and he almost never parts with his sword.
Role: Still the Castellan of Brightwater.
Equipment:A well crafted cane, a masterwork sword, and a full plate with floral symbols as well as a fox face engraved on the chest. He rarely carries his shield, unless there's a dire warning of battle, and he owns an old horse.
Skills: Colin is a tough uncompromising man, who has survived the war from the wrong side essentially being defiants to all things to come. Cunning and vindictive, he spends his remaining days defending and making sure Brightwall keep is kept in perfect condition, and as such he's good at administration, logistics and instructing the knights. Age has caught up to him, but he's still rather capable at fighting if he's pressed.
Biography: Colin Florent was the younger brother of Alester Florent Senior, and he has served him and his sucessors as Castellan of the Keep. An stubborn man, his ordeals under Garland Tyrell's florent and posterior appropiation of said Florent possesion have made him even more stubborn and determined, but also rather cynical and dismissive of their liege lords. He doesn't dabble in politics usually, as he could probably not resist choking any Tyrell at arm's reach, and is content with doing whatever keeps him alive.
Managing the keep.
Colin, in recent years, has begun to show a certain soft spot for Alester, and he's one of the few people who can steal sincere words amidst all the verbal abuse that Colin has to deliver, and while he does not approve of some of his policies, like being on good odds with the Tyrells or maintining those crazy R'hllor worshippers, he nevertheless suports the young lord.
Name: ser Merrell Florent, AKA the Green Fox. Age:37 Appearance: Merrell is a rather well-behaved fella which is of average height but rather well built, witha fair face that is starting to show the signs of age with expression wrinkles and some gray hairs. He has dark green eyes, hidden by rather bushy eyebrows, and keeps his hair somewhat long and gruffy, in order to hide his Florent ears. He rarely parts with his Greenhand armor, which he has customized with a simple somber painting of the House Florent sigil.
Role: Greenhand knight.
Equipment:A masterwork sword, a full Greenhand plate with a somber House Florent sigil on it, as well as a shield with an equally small nod to his House on it. He is the owner of a rather fickle spotted mare. He also carries a wineskin whenever he goes, to have a small drink everytime and now and offer others aswell.
Skills: Merrell Florent is a placid, tranquil man, which is rather slow to anger and patient. Even in the most dire circumstances, he rarely breaks decor and acts sensibly.Merrell is also an experienced even though not excessively talented knight, and he usually accepts being second fiddle without much fuss. His experience and cool disposition make him an excellent tactician and strategist, although he can't do rouses speeches as well as others. He is also, like his father, very logistics-wise, and almost never forces nor overstretches the army under his care, trying to keep them running efficiently as best as he can. A self-confessed wine lover since his knightship in the Arbor, he's rather wine cultured.
Biography: Merrell Florent saw the war from the perspective of house Redwyne, at the Arbor. Initially, he could do very little but watch helpless as the war tore his parent House. He nearly drunk himself to death as a teenager for that very fact. During said brush with Death, his thoughts somehow began to make sense. It was stupid to fight and rage against what one had no control over. Instead, one should seek an even mind, and try to control the things one could to assure a better future.
After his stint, he became a rather dilligent, calm man, who was knighted eagerly by the own Redwynes before being sent back to his house. Finding it in shambles, Merrell spared no effort in being one of the conciliators, and one of the few people who tried to mend the dysfunctional family together. Alekyne, seeing the healing potential this could pursue, convinced Merrell to become one of the GreenHand knights under Garland, in order to smooth the otherwise rough relations with the liege house. But Merrell was not fooled by this being a pretense of recognition towards the Tyrells, merely a convenient thing to uphold now that peace and reconstruction were needed.
Merrell Florent has since then, devoted himself to the tasks of being one the spokepersons of the Florents among the Tyrell, and following Alekyne's death, he sought to be also a man of confidence of the young heir, seeing the potential the young lad could bring to the Florents.
It was granted to Garlan because half the Florents ripped themselves apart in a pretty bitter war (ie. going with Stannis), and in that sort of situation, I imagine Garlan wouldn't have half treated him well or would have killed him when coming to basically claim it :P . He is a pleasant person most of the time, but if someone is in his way, Reachman or otherwise, I'd imagine something would have gone down.
maybe i should list colin as dead then. Easier and less sheets.
i think imma chuck florents in the bin and just play someone who bought the Baelish lands at bargain bin price. Very small house and less problems.
Or just make old Colin all cranky and antagonist against Garland (he refused to step down as Brightwater castellan when the castle was granted to the Tyrell) and his son being more sensical.
@AtomicNut I'd still like at least a bit of an overview for Colin and his son. Colin is a book character but there's very little known about him. Even just lines about his loyalty or his reliability would be fine.
-groans- This is why I played no houses until now. Tempted to just bin it and play another separate character.