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Priscilla Edwards

0 · 360 views · located in Tibera

a character in “The Price of Blood”, as played by Magical_pineapples

Description

Princess Consort Priscilla Edwards

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Name: Priscilla Boleyn Edwards
Rank/Title: Lady Edwards, Princess Consort to the King of Falor
Gender: Female
Age: 16
Orientation: Heterosexual
Kingdom/Alliance: Whatever her father tells her it is

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Hair Color: Chestnut brown
Eye Color: Brown
Height: 5'5"
Weight: 125 lbs

Description: She is a petite height but well-built and sturdy. Priscilla is not what her peers would consider delicate. Her penchant for sweets may become a problem for her lush curves later in her life. However, the roundness of her form and the smallness of her waist draws the eyes of many admirers. Her hair is a soft chestnut that falls in natural waves down her back. Her wide, dark eyes are often seen rolling in jest, causing her to appear a bit dim. Her plush pink lips are often open with a tongue at the roof of her mouth in a state of perpetual boredom and confusion.

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Personality:
{Childish, Decadent, Vindictive, Dramatic}
The daughters of nobility are meant to be three things and three things only: Charming, beautiful and fertile. Beyond the mask that society requires, there need be nothing underneath. Priscilla is no exception. She is a beautiful vase with nothing inside and she lacks ambitions to be anything more It makes her the perfect tool to be used by her father. But when she opens her mouth, another story is told. A childhood among sycophants and ambitious courtiers has left her with a skewed vision of herself. Every joke was met with laughter. Every catty remark was met with praise. And every display of skill was met with applause. Priscilla was the jewel of her household and no one dared to tell the silly thing the truth.


Hobbies: Dancing, singing, playing music (although she cannot play well) and collecting exotic animals
Habits: Biting fingernails, eye-rolling, gestures frequently when talking

Likes/Loves
  • Herself
  • Music
  • Exotic animals
  • Telling others what to do

Dislikes/Hates
  • Being told what to do
  • Noxious smells
  • Being kept out of the loop
  • Tedious conversation
  • Strategy

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Place Of Origin: Falor
History:
There are two histories of Priscilla Edwards. The first and foremost is that Priscilla was born a priceless jewel of her family. As a baby, she was happy and charmed even the hardest of hearts. Her lovely curls bounced about her head and her eyes sparkled. She only grew more beautiful the older she became. As a child, she excelled at everything she touched. Tutors had an easy time with their intelligent student. Priscilla mastered languages, history and finances. She owned a room the moment she stepped on the dance floor. Music was a special talent as she had a voice of the angels and a golden ear. Her family adored and doted on her. She was the perfect daughter and would soon become the perfect queen.

The other history is far too real. Priscilla was born to serve only one purpose and it was the serve the will of her father and further his ambitions. She was a fitful baby and left entirely to maids and nurses. Rarely she was presented to her family and met with indifference. As she grew older, she sought for the approval of her father and constantly fell short. Her fingers were clumsy on the harp and hit sour notes. Her voice cracked. She was a distracted student and had a moderate level of skill in the ballroom. She never grasped the two-faced nature of court and believed the compliments thrown at her. She is easily manipulated and desperately wants the attention of her father, but failing that, will accept it in other places.

Face Claim: Hanna Mangan-Lawrence

So begins...

Priscilla Edwards's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Celia Ulfricdottir Character Portrait: Christoph Edwards Character Portrait: Priscilla Edwards Character Portrait: Lucas Navigne Character Portrait: Nicholas Brigham

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Nicholas sat, utterly bored out of his mind watching the tournament. Christoph sat to his right, Priscilla on his left and Lucas stood behind himself and Christoph. His interest in the jousting tournament was casual to say the least. Had Nicholas had his own way, he would not be wasting his time watching, but this was one of those occasions where he was required to act a certain way. The Lannisters might be the hosts, but the tradition had always lain with Falor and he was not about to let that be forgotten by being absent. His attention wandered, along with his gaze, through the crowds watching the jousting, through the nobility, the peasantry, down to the squires. He gave a half-smile, thinking that he surely had more in common with those squire boys than he did with the kings he sat among.

"I pity the man who must face that mountain of a man," he heard Christoph say, bringing his attention back to the jousting, "And I pity that horse that must sit beneath him."

Nicholas looked up to see the man known as The Mountain mount his horse. The poor boy facing him didn't stand a chance. This was one of the times that Nicholas was glad he was exempt from competing. As a king he wasn't allowed to compete. He couldn't help but agree with his brother-in-law. "He is going to die today."

Nicholas took a sip from his goblet and shifted in his seat, moving away from Priscilla and more towards Lucas, his attention on the jousting as morbid curiosity made him watch the unequal match. He stiffened slightly as a collective gasp echoed around the arena. The Mountain's lance slid up and under the young knight's armour, piercing his throat. Nicholas stared at the bloody scene, somehow unable to draw his eyes away. He looked to Christoph for some sign that this was quite a normal affair, turning to Lucas would have been to obvious an indication of his discomfort.

The tournament continued and before long the wooden divider was being torn up. The archers came out. He was surprised to see a woman among the competitors. She must be Princess Celia Ulfricdottir. He had heard talk of her, but this was his first opportunity to see her. From all accounts, she was intelligent and kind; a good woman who would make a good queen. His eyes drifted to Priscilla. True, she was pretty enough, but there was little more than air between her ears in his experience. Not for the first time, Nicholas found himself wishing Christoph had another daughter he could marry, one that knew her own mind, or was actually in possession of one. From the corner of his eye, he saw Lucas shift slightly. Nicholas looked up, and saw Lucas's attention was not on the archery tournament, but elsewhere in the crowd. He followed Lucas's line of sight to a girl sat reading. He suppressed a mischievous smile and sat back in his seat, waiting patiently for the archery to begin.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Christoph Edwards Character Portrait: Alistair Lannister Character Portrait: Loras Edwards Character Portrait: Cassandra Lannister Character Portrait: Rosalie Lannister Character Portrait: Priscilla Edwards Character Portrait: Lucas Navigne Character Portrait: Nicholas Brigham Character Portrait: Tyrion Lannister

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Christoph looked straight back into the eyes of the Imp with a hint of, perhaps, condescension. It wasn't because of his height that Christoph looked at him in such a way. He would have addressed any of House Lannister similarly. In fact, out of the entire family, Tyrion was perhaps the one he liked the most. The Half-Man's mind was nearly as sharp as Christoph's own, and perhaps it would achieve the acuity of the Count's by the time Tyrion reached his age. The younger man's response was unexpected enough to evoke a laugh or two. Even Christoph let out a soft laugh, but it also sounded vaguely like a scoff.

"I am quite certain that if he were able to best The Mountain, even the men might line up, also hoping to -- how did you put it? -- 'taste his cock'." The boy, of course, was not as lucky as Tyrion had mentioned. Christoph hardly shuddered as the lance lodged itself into his neck. "What a shame." He looked to Nicholas as the boy looked at him, searching for some reaction. "This is why, of course, men like you and I shall triumph. We think before acting so rashly." Christoph looked into his empty goblet and sighed before slowly standing.

"I shall take my leave now, Your Majesty. I have matters to attend to before tonight's masquerade, and it appears many of our companions have also left." He moved by slowly and stopped before Priscilla to lean down and kiss the top of her head. "Enjoy the rest of the competition, dearest," he said with a smile as he stood upright again. With that, Christoph left the stands and made his way back toward the palace.





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To say the least, Cassie had been shocked when her mother so suddenly grabbed her by the arms. She was simultaneously upset at the harsh way her mother addressed her and the way her mother's cheeks glistened with tears. Wasn't she happy? Everyone else in the audience seemed to be smiling and enjoying the day. Subconsciously, her bottom lip began to tremble. Still, despite being yelled at, her mother's kiss managed to bring a smile back to Cassie's face. "I love you too, Mother," she replied, wiping hurriedly at any tears that had managed to appear in her eyes.

When Loras appeared, however, she suddenly grew quite again as if afraid of embarrassing herself before the young knight. She even moved quickly behind her mother as if afraid to face him. Before she could peak out at him again, she felt her mother's hand on her hair and heard her suggestion. With a quick nod and a even quicker curtsey to the knight, she ran off towards the bushes, just far enough away so she could not hear them.

She shot a glance back and saw the knight handing her mother a rose. It was something out of a fairy tale, except her mother was a queen, not a princess. She was married, with a daughter, and princesses were supposed to marry knights that tried to woo them. For a moment, Cassie prepared to run to them, to warn them of this predicament. It didn't seem fair letting poor Loras waste his time courting her mother when her mother was already married.

When she looked back again, they had been replace by her uncle. In her hands, she had begun to form a miniature bouquet of white daisies with a few wild flowers.

The third time she looked up, Tyrion and her mother had moved toward a bench by themselves. She followed them, smiling gleefully as she worked her way through the grass. She placed the bundle on her mother's lap and clambered up beside her on the bench, kicking her legs once more as they dangled in the air. In the eyes of a child, parents could do little wrong. To Cassandra, her parents were the epitome of perfect human behavior. They weren't, of course, and that would mean that one day she would come to a startling revelation. Until then, however, she simply began to speak about the different flowers she had encountered with eagerness.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Celia Ulfricdottir Character Portrait: Ronan Ulfricson Character Portrait: Genevieve Hansdottir Character Portrait: Christoph Edwards Character Portrait: Renly Arryn Character Portrait: Alistair Lannister Character Portrait: Ulfric Bjornson Character Portrait: Corianna Ulfricdottir Character Portrait: Annabelle Waldorf Character Portrait: Loras Edwards Character Portrait: Cassandra Lannister Character Portrait: Rosalie Lannister Character Portrait: Priscilla Edwards Character Portrait: Lorelle de Croismare Character Portrait: Lucas Navigne Character Portrait: Nicholas Brigham Character Portrait: Tyrion Lannister Character Portrait: Elanor Lannister

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OOC: "Here ye here ye! Come one come all. The good ole' Royal family Lannister of Tibera has put forth their 4th annual Masquerade ball at dusk. So, ladies and gents grab your masks and prepare to see identities be revealed.."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Christoph Edwards Character Portrait: Loras Edwards Character Portrait: Priscilla Edwards Character Portrait: Lucas Navigne Character Portrait: Nicholas Brigham

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Overall, Christoph had never been physically gifted. Truly, the only physical pursuits he had been gifted in were horse riding and dancing given his lithe shape. Even at his age he continued to move easily about the dance floor. Each movement was calculated, as per usual, but to the time of the music this time rather than to his own, personal motives. Or, perhaps, this was merely part of a larger scheme as everything seemed to be to the Count. His partner, presently, was a noble woman from Ostwall. She moved about in a very ungraceful manner, stepping on his feet multiple times before the song ended.

Regardless, when the song was over, he bowed graciously to her and praised her ability. Then, of course, he moved off of the floor to take advantage of the privacy the masquerade provided. A passing servant handed him a goblet of wine which, unlike his earlier drinks, was not watered down. He would have to remember, therefore, to limit his consumption, for it would certainly would be unwise to become intoxicated so early in the night.

After sipping from the wine, Christoph readjusted his mask. The fact that it was a masquerade, while being helpful for concealing oneself, certainly would result in stress on the guards. He noted that Lucas had been on edge since he, Christoph, Priscilla, and Nicholas had entered the masquerade. In the long run, he hoped that stress would keep the Boy King alive for the night. These were, of course, quite dangerous times, and Christoph couldn't help but feel uneasy. In truth, he would not grow calm until Priscilla married the young king.

His attention, however, turned to the other Captain of the Guard, his own son. It had been, until this morning, two years since he had last seen Loras. The boy had been seventeen, not even a man, and now he was Seabel's Captain of the Guard. As the next song began, Christoph moved up behind the young man, who had entered with Seabel's royal family.

"How quickly a man grows in just two years," he remarked aloud before drinking again. "I did not have time before to congratulate you on your performance today." Christoph looked to his right, toward his son. The difference in their heights was noticeable now. "Have you seen your sister yet? I am certain she's eager to catch up with you too."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Celia Ulfricdottir Character Portrait: Christoph Edwards Character Portrait: Renly Arryn Character Portrait: Alistair Lannister Character Portrait: Annabelle Waldorf Character Portrait: Rosalie Lannister Character Portrait: Priscilla Edwards Character Portrait: Lucas Navigne Character Portrait: Nicholas Brigham

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Nicholas adjusted his mask, grateful for the thin veil of anonymity it granted him. When it came to balls, Nicholas was willing to endure them. In most case he actually ended up having fun, in spite of what most people expected. Although he would probably have more fun if he wasn't engaged. He had already danced with Priscilla that evening. She wasn't by any means a terrible dancer, far from it, and she followed his lead well, it was just that there were far more interesting people for him to be spending his time with than his future wife. Lucas seemed determined to be his constant shadow at the ball, despite Nicholas's protests that he would be fine for one evening. It appeared that Lucas disagreed with him, as he often did when it came to personal security.

"You are allowed to have fun at these things you know," he said to Lucas, "Consider it a night off, you've earned it. Besides," Nicholas grinned impishly, " How are you to find the girl you were admiring earlier if all you do is act as my living shadow?" Nicholas looked around the ballroom, moving further into the crowd when he spied Christoph talking to his son. Where was Priscilla? He couldn't see her anywhere.

Nicholas looked up, slightly surprised when someone bumped into him, "I must implore for your forgiveness," the girl curtsied. When she straightened up, Nicholas vaguely recognised her as Celia. The girl Lucas had been admiring earlier, he assumed she was Celia's lady-in-waiting, was not far behind. "There you are, miss, I hope I haven't worried you too much with my absence," she said quietly.

Nicholas gathered his composure, "No, not at all. There is no need to implore me for anything, no harm was done and no offence was caused," Lucas was still acting as his shadow. Nicholas turned to Lucas, looking at him pointedly, "If you'll excuse me, m'ladies." He took his leave of the group before Lucas could protest, blending into the masked crowd so Lucas couldn't follow. Nicholas took a goblet from a passing servant, sipping from it as he observed the crowd. He spied his sister among the dancers with her husband. Rekindling their relationship as brother and sister was seeming ever more unlikely. It had never been a wonderful relationship, but following her marriage into the Lannister family, things had become decidedly sour. His eyes scanned the ballroom again, searching for Christoph and Priscilla. That was his original intention, instead his eyes fell on a boy whom he hadn't seen before. Nicholas might have known him, but with his face half covered it was difficult to tell. Although that meant that the boy wouldn't know who Nicholas was either. And in that single thought Nicholas knew why he liked masquerades. People did not treat him any differently because he was a king. In this place, he was just like everybody else.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Christoph Edwards Character Portrait: Rosalie Lannister Character Portrait: Priscilla Edwards Character Portrait: Evelyne Spyre

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He had always been good at leaving unnoticed. As much as he enjoyed being in the midst of the action and seeing it first hand, Christoph also despised being in such close quarters with so many people. Christoph moved with ease through the people though, weaving in and out and still managing to get a sip of his wine in every once and a while. The beverage had begun to go to his head, he could tell. It only added to his unease at the moment, for he knew he needed his wits during the celebration. Change was coming, and he wanted to be one step ahead of it.

A passing servant received the empty goblet as Christoph placed it on his tray. With that, he moved toward the staircase. Rosalie was there already, looking back at the crowd. "Good evening, Your Majesty," he said as he walked by, bowing his head to her before mounting the stairs.He wished he could have said something in that moment to convince her that his son was the better match for her. Something, anything. He couldn't though, and he knew it. Christoph could plot all he wanted to, but in the end, Loras had to figure this one out.

As he moved down the hall, his thoughts turned to Priscilla. Of course he adored the girl, she was his daughter. He wished she were as cunning as he and Loras, but it did not detract from his love for her. But Nicholas's apprehension was nearly tangible. An awkward air hung about the two. While Christoph had never been an expert in relationships, having never settled in one for too long, he knew those matters would have to be taken into his own hands. He would manage.

Christoph was still half-lost in his thoughts when he opened the door and then locked it behind him. Not to keep Evelyne in, but rather to keep others out. He would stand no chance against an opponent at night. From the rug near the hearth, his dogs looked up, ears pricked intently, before they settled back down once more. His eyes fell on Evelyne then, for he had almost forgotten she would be here.

"I do hope you were not too bored up here, by yourself," he said, pulling the mask off before placing it on top of the dresser. "Politics takes precedence, of course." He was half tempted to pour some of the spiced wine he had brought with him, but he thought it unwise given his current state. Instead, he began to pull the rings from his fingers and remove the outfit he wore over a more plain shirt and breeches.

Christoph then turned back to her and took a few steps in her direction until he stood just in front of her. He reached out and cupped her jaw in a hand so that he could easily tilt her head back to look up at him. His other hand took up a stray strand of hair that he then tucked behind her ear. "You possess a unique sort of beauty, Evelyne," he remarked. "Very rarely do I find a woman with such an exotic look about her." He moved his hands then so that they braced against the duvet, allowing him to lean down and press his lips, which had curled into a smirk, against hers. Soon, his hands cupped her face rather than rested on the bed as he moved his head so as to better kiss her.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Christoph Edwards Character Portrait: Renly Arryn Character Portrait: Priscilla Edwards Character Portrait: Nicholas Brigham Character Portrait: Tyrion Lannister Character Portrait: Evelyne Spyre

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Nicholas rolled out of bed, his good mood dampened only by the fact they were going on a hunt today. If he saw Renly during the hunt, he would have a lot of explaining to do. Not that he didn't want to see Renly. He did, very much so. But he would just like to be prepared before he saw Renly again. And this, he reminded himself, is why being King was such a nuisance. You find a...

Nicholas sat up straight. What was Renly? They were certainly more than mere acquaintances, and yet 'friend' did not seem the right word for what they were. Nicholas fancied he could still feel the warmth of Renly's lips against his own. No, 'friend' was certainly the wrong word to use and yet Nicholas could not think of a suitable word to describe his relationship with Renly. 'Paramours' seemed too grand and romantic. He doubted a small kiss was enough to grant such a title. Anyway, when you were king and found a new companion, there was always the little voice wondering if they just wanted to get close for the power that came with being favoured by the king. If they didn't know he was a king, as was the case with Renly he assumed, then that doubt faded but there was the inevitability of being discovered.

Nicholas shook his head, clearing his thoughts, though thoughts of the taller boy lingered. He looked out the window and saw raindrops trickling down the glass. And they were still going to hunt in this? Perhaps it would clear up. That wouldn't be so bad. It would be a little muddy underfoot, but Raiden could cope with a little mud. Nicholas dressed himself and headed down to the stables to collect Raiden, collecting an apple from the bowl in his room before he left. If any of the people he saw on the way to the stables found it odd for the boy king to be so fine a mood, they didn't say. Nicholas found Raiden already saddled. He stroked Raiden's face before mounting the stallion. Riding out to the hunting tent, he found that the rain had indeed cleared. The scent of the damp grass was hanging in the air as Nicholas rode down to the hunting tent.

Reaching the tent, he dismounted, handing Raiden's reigns to a nearby servant. Seeing Christoph, he headed towards his advisor, curious as to the identity of the woman sat beside him. Nicholas couldn't recall seeing her before.

"I do hope someone puts me out of my misery if I'm ever that daft," He heard Christoph say.

"Well, that shouldn't be too long then Christoph," he laughed, taking a seat beside him as Tyrion passed by. While Christoph spoke to Tyrion, Nicholas let his eyes wander, searching for Renly. He was disappointed when he saw no sign of Renly, and Priscilla was notable by her absence, "Is Priscilla not joining us?" he asked Christoph.