I never know when I will get online, but I usually get on most days of the week and weekend. I am pretty active on here so you will see me around a lot.
Writing Levels
Adept
Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
Male
Female
Transgender
Primarily Prefer Male
Genres
High School/College, Scifi, Modern, Magical, Horror, Romance, Yaoi, Yuri, Slice Of Life, R Rated xD, Modern Fantasy
Fantasy is my #1; I will give almost anything a chance if it has strong fantasy elements. Post apocalyptic, superhero, alternate history, science fantasy, some supernatural, romance, and a few fandoms (especially Game of Thrones) are also likely to catch my eye.
There are some other players who have only watched the shows, so you should be fine.
Also, this is an alternate universe game, so spoilers aren't really an option. None of the cast of the canon Game of Thrones exist in this alternate universe version. Jon Arryn did exist in a very different capacity, but he was the only one and his death was the starter event for the plot, so that leaves zero canon characters. :P
That was fun to write. Tell me if you need anything changed. I didn't add much about her relations with the other Boltons, mainly because there seems to be none active at the moment? There's a Lord and his mother I think and if their creators want to think up of something to connect us all I'll be happy to discuss it.
Character Sheet:
[fieldbox="Our Blades Are Sharp, red, solid"] Name: Edana Bolton
Personality:
Edana Bolton is a self centered person who masks her actions with the pretense of "doing it for the good of the family". She's unlikely to do anything that doesn't come with a hefty boon and to her the Bolton name is just that - a name. Who she is and who she will be as a person is much more important to her than family history. Despite how little she cares for her heritage, Edana is not someone able to be bought out by anyone. Along with her self centered nature comes pride and she will not work with anyone she deems lower or equal with herself. One must come grovelling at her feet to forge an alliance.
Often being described as having an appetite larger than her stomach, Edana's pride and greed demands her to be the best at everything she fancies. This leads her to believe herself to be more fit to rule over Dreadfort than the current Lord. She isn't completely stupid however so while she may not start a rebellion any time soon Edana does the little things in order to prepare such as treating the common-folk with more kindness than he. She doesn't take time to review her own errors and is prone to blaming her problems on the weather, other people, luck, and more.
Lastly Edana is a typical Bolton in that of her cruel, sadistic, and vindictive nature. She actively enjoys watching other things suffer be it a prisoner or a dog. It puts her in a position of power that she relishes. Ambitious to the point of throwing her own friends and family off a cliff, Edana is one never to be never satisfied with her share. She's easily envious of others despite her relative good standings and is extremely possessive of those she deems as hers.
Other:
Edana has a hidden love for the arts, particularly music and dance. Though she one day aspires to be a renown bard, she does not practice out of embarrassment.
A more secretive and violent skill she hides is one of House Bolton's oldest traditions - flaying.
Special Weaponry: Though she uses a wide variety of weapons, Edana is most often seen wielding a one handed axe and sword. The blade of the axe is hooked and curved, making it ideal for disarming and entangling her enemies' weapons.
Pets: Edana keeps no pets but she utilizes bloodhounds for hunting.
Allergies: Fish. Though what kinds of fish remain unknown as Edana refuses to touch so much as a fin after discovering her allergy.
Writing Sample:
It was a bad omen for Edana Bolton's hunting party to come back empty-handed. Not for the young heiress -if anything, she was more excited- but for the prisoners of the Dreadfort. They'd heard the baying of the hounds and had gotten ready long before a sympathetic jailer had whispered a warning to them. It was a common enough routine that they'd already assumed their positions before Edana's footsteps echoed in the hall. On their hands and knees while looking straight ahead they waited silently - Edana was fond of picking screamers.
"Gentlemen, gentlemen! And how are we all today?" The young Bolton whistled appreciatively upon viewing her playthings' states. "I see you've all learned some manners since last time." Her keys jingled with every step rather ominously, the everyday sound now like a demon's bell signalling their fate. "I had quite the hunt today Rodrick, did you know that?" Stopping in front of a disheveled looking man, Edana began twirling the key-ring on her finger. She could taste the shameful relief in the room mixed with the prodigious fear of the now slightly shaking Rodrick.
"I saw a big and healthy buck. If the party wasn't there no one would have believed me. It's a shame the wind blew my arrow off mark. I'd imagine it to be quite tasty, wouldn't you? I would have had the cook bring you lot the leftovers, you know." As if on cue the men choked out a hoarse,"Thank you Miss Bolton," which she accepted with a gracious smile. Edana crouched down to meet the unfortunate Rodrick's eye before reaching out to stroke his stubbled cheek. There was an uncomfortable silence in the room before she spoke again.
"You know Rodrick I always wondered," she pinched his cheek, "do cannibals look at men like we with deer?" A shudder ran through his body before a plea croaked out of his mouth - a plea which she promptly shushed like a mother would with her child asking for sweets. "No, no! That's enough of that from you. I thought you learned your lesson Rodrick! Didn't we go over this, you and I? No," she punctuated each word with a painful squeeze of his lips, "talking. back. to. Mistress. Edana! Now say it with me - you must remember it this time, understand? N-" "N-no talking back to Mistress Euh... Eu-Edana. No talking back to Mistress Edana. No t-" A splattering liquid caused her to back up away from the cell to witness the poor man relieving himself. Whether it was from fear of what was to come or if he'd completely lost his mind she did not know.
She surveyed her ruined boots and wondered how many more screams she could wring out of the broken man. Not worth the effort she thought as she witnessed his emasculation as he muttered the phrase over and over and over. "Oh enough already Rodrick. It's a harmless mistake really." She pat his head, tousling his matted hair. "I know, I know. It's hard to memorize things sometimes. But you really must do better." He was openly whimpering now which signaled to Edana that her time in the dungeons was almost over. She flipped through the key-ring before brandishing the one to Rodrick's cell. Kneeling back down to his eye level, she hugged him as best she could through the metal bars.
"It's all right. It's okay. I'm going to make you feel all better now. Mistress Edana will let you come on a hunt," Rodrick half gasped and half howled, "on a hunt with her. We'll hunt deer and boar and quail and teach you how to eat regular meat again. Okay? I'm here to help you Rodrick. To re-civilize a brute like you. But in order for me to do that you have to be willing to help yourself." Edana unlocked the door with a flourish and promptly attached a rope leash around his neck. The man stayed comatose for a moment as if kneeling and sniffling would get him out of the trip. He then crawled slowly forwards at Edana's beckoning.
The Bolton smiled, satisfied with her hard work before laying a piss covered boot on his head. "You've forgotten something darling. Think of your new friend that'll be moving into your home soon. It's not nice to leave that," she gestured towards the puddle, "there is it? You know what to do. Clean it up." Edana had found that no matter how resilient a man's mind was, that there was a certain threshold that could not be passed. Once it came to that extent, a person would shut down and be willing to do anything to prevent any more harm from coming to them. She'd often wondered what would happen if one were to force the mind to accept what was happening to them but her experiments so far had resulted in a lot of graves and nothing more. Once Rodrick had finished lapping up after himself, Edana let him lead her to the exit. The hounds had begun baying again and once again the saying in Dreadfort had struck true - there was no such thing as Edana's hunting party coming back empty-handed.
[Fieldbox=The Lost Prince, darkred]Name: Requiem Dominus Mortalis Age: 23 House: Martell Night's Watch: No History: During his youth, Requiem, then under a different name that he's long since forgotten, was sent away for a special type of training. He was sent to learn how to be a spy. His first assignment was learning how to be a sailor. Unfortunately for him, and fortunately, the ship he was working was taken by pirates. Rather than killing him, he convinced them to let him work for them instead. He traded his highborn knowledge for their combat skills and ship's knowledge. After a time, he left the ship, taking residence with a friend of one of the pirates who taught him the skills of conning people, and quickly made his way through the ranks of the group, until eventually everyone liked him. Their master died, and he was elected their new leader, even though most of them were more skilled than he was, with wide varieties of skills and faces. Despite all of this, he never forgot his family ties, and he doubts that he was forgotten either. Occupation: Pirate/New leader of a small gang of professional con artists.
Night fell in the great capital, and once again, Requiem prepared them. Each had their own specialty, but though each was specialised, they all relied on eachother. Kaydin was the primary worker for the night, with his unique gift for blending in with the ministry, nobody ever suspected him of anything. Ironic given that he didn't believe in any of them. Their goal in this case was to claim a sacred text worth a fortune to a collector already acquired. Of course, they weren't going to give the collector the real book, but they didn't need to know that.
The others were prepared, and though there were some misgivings about the setting of a fire in a temple, they were dedicated to their craft, and everything was in place. To Requiem, the greatest sacrifice was the bottle of wildfire that they had set aside for just such things. They were only waiting on one more key component. Morrigan was running a bit late however, which was mildly concerning.
Then, a knock came at the door, twice, then thrice, then once, then thrice again. A sigh of relief broke through the group. Requiem stood and opened the door. "You're late. I hope there weren't any problems." He said, although his tone showed his concern.
Morrigan smiled back in kind to his concern, and let drop the bag. "The body was heavier than I was expecting, but I got to it before the Sisters did. I placed some fake wolf tracks around the body though, so nobody should be too concerned, although a wolf hunt will probably come up. Something else we might take advantage of."
Morrigan was probably the one best suited for violent deeds, both for her lack of compassion, but also due to her natural innocence. She was well into her mid twenties, yet despite this, appeared as though she were only around the age of fourteen. It was this appearance that made her the best for infiltration in most places. Dressed in rags, she appeared little more than a beggar girl. Blending in smoothly. Dressed in finer clothes, she matched a noble's child, and could walk high society. In this case, she was dressed as an initiate of the Wives of the Stranger.
Their plan was just about set. Byaka had the papers and ink that matched the time period, and with the body and the wildfire, nobody would suspect a thing, at least until the book was used again, which they doubted would be for another ten or fifteen years.
"Alright. Let's get this done."
Skills: Highborn Horse Riding: 10 Reading: 15 Running: 20 Writing: 10
--------------------------- Dual Wielding: 30 Thrown Weapons: 10
--------------------------- Acrobatics: 15
--------------------------- Disguise: 10
--------------------------- Diplomacy: 15 Interrogation: 5 Leadership: 10 Tactics: 10
--------------------------- Sailing: 15
_________________ Special Weaponry: A Pair of Black Steel Falcatas Called The Lost (Likethisbut Black), and a Throwing Knife Attached To A Rope. Pets: A Raven He Acquired In A Northern Venture and a small black spiky lizard he found basking in the desert sun.
Allergies: Slight Intolerance of Bright Lights. They don't really cause him damage, but he has a hard time adjusting to the light. Other: Prefers to wear wide brimmed hats when possible, and also has a pair of tinted glass non-convex glasses (Essentially sunglasses) [/fieldbox]
So... I kinda wanted to be a desert prince, but at the same time, if that doesn't work, I can work this backstory and stuff with just about any house, or make him houseless with a noble's upbringing. Whatever works best for the story. Also, as a note, I'm still trying to get back into writing, so it's not very easy for me yet. As such, if you think it's been too long since I've posted, just like... Jab me or something, and I'll try to respond immediately.
Name:
Anastasia "Ana" Regalus Tyrell Age:
23 House:
Tyrell Night's Watch: (Yes/No)
No Highborn/Low: High Great House: Tyrell Appearance:
Occupation:
Writing Sample: It was a lovely evening - dark, yet enlightened by the moon. It was a perfect night for a walk through the city. Afterall, this was often the only way Ana ever saw the place she called home. Often, she was too busy or it was considered unsafe for her to walk the streets of HighGarden. Slipping off her clickety-clackety shoes, she let her toes dig into the soil and rock beneath her now bare feet. Oh how good it felt!
She picked up the edges of her dress and began vaulting between buildings, pretending as though she were hiding from someone or something. How she loved to play games. Giggling lightly to herself, she continued this charade for some time. Before she knew it, she was at the edge of the premises. It was time to turn around and head home.
Home. She never considered it home. However, she did grow up within, so it was her home. She'd always dreamt of adventure. Perhaps fighting as a kingsguard, or slaying a dragon - though those are extinct, though some disagree. One day, she wanted to leave this beautiful place and become a warrior. Ana's dream was to be useful, not useless. Beauty and looks only could do so much. Then it was time for a dagger to finish the job.
Name:
Anastasia "Ana" Regalus Tyrell Age:
23 House:
Tyrell Night's Watch: (Yes/No)
No Highborn/Low: High Great House: Tyrell Appearance:
Occupation:
Writing Sample: It was a lovely evening - dark, yet enlightened by the moon. It was a perfect night for a walk through the city. Afterall, this was often the only way Ana ever saw the place she called home. Often, she was too busy or it was considered unsafe for her to walk the streets of HighGarden. Slipping off her clickety-clackety shoes, she let her toes dig into the soil and rock beneath her now bare feet. Oh how good it felt!
She picked up the edges of her dress and began vaulting between buildings, pretending as though she were hiding from someone or something. How she loved to play games. Giggling lightly to herself, she continued this charade for some time. Before she knew it, she was at the edge of the premises. It was time to turn around and head home.
Home. She never considered it home. However, she did grow up within, so it was her home. She'd always dreamt of adventure. Perhaps fighting as a kingsguard, or slaying a dragon - though those are extinct, though some disagree. One day, she wanted to leave this beautiful place and become a warrior. Ana's dream was to be useful, not useless. Beauty and looks only could do so much. Then it was time for a dagger to finish the job.
