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Simon Priestas

"I want to see my brother become something, and the rest of the world can burn before I'd care about it first."

0 · 494 views · located in Tibera

a character in “The Price of Blood”, as played by Zoey26123

Description

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"Even though my brother keeps secrets from me, I take care of him just as much as he takes care of me."




The Basics



ImageImageFull Name:
Simon Alexander Priestas

Nicknames:
His brother celled him Simmy growing up

Gender:
Male


Age:
17

Rank/Title:
Prince;Nephew to the king of Ostwall

Sexual Orientation:
Heterosexual

Kingdom/Alliance:
Ostwall




What's on the Outside




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Hair Color:
Brown
Eye Color:
Brown
Height:
5'11"
Weight:
150 lbs.
Tattoos:
None
Piercings:
None
Scars:
Various ones on his back, stomach, and one above his right eye
Description:
Simon looks exactly like his brother. The only way to tell them apart is how they act. Simon has brown hair, a square jaw, and brown eyes. He stands at 5'11" and weighs around 150 lbs. He appears to have an athletic physic and is strong though not as much so as those who train every day. Because Simon trains around three or four times a week, he is strong and very good with a sword though he doesn't appear like it. Simon has a scar right above his eye that his barely visible. He also has various scars on his back and stomach from a certain fight he was in.




What's on the Inside




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Personality:
{Outwardly: Weak, Overprotective, Loving (towards his family), Curious}
{Inwardly: Caring, Loving (towards his family), Curious, Dreamer, Guilty}
On the outside, Simon appears to be too weak to stand up for himself. He really just doesn't care. He won't stand up for himself if he doesn't think it is worth it or will benefit him. He is very good about not caring if he is insulted but can't stand it when his family is mentioned. Simon is always overprotective of his brother and will always try to talk him out of a stupid idea that he is bound to come up with. He loves to study and will always read in his spare time, even at parties.

On the inside, he isn't much different other than the fact that he can't help but always hope for a good future. He openly cares for his family and will help them as much as possible. He also likes to be caring towards other people who are nice or show kindness to anyone else, even if they are from an enemy country or have said some rude things to Simon, however, if any insults towards Guy are thrown about, then the individual who declared them will wish they had never needed assistance. Though it was not Simon's fault, he feels the guilt of the twins' father's death weighing on his shoulders. He believes anything bad that happens to those he truly cares for could have been prevented if only he had paid more attention to it.

Hobbies:
Reading
Simon is constantly reading, he will always have a book on hand and would rather be reading at a party than really socializing. He can't stand it when he doesn't have a book around and will promptly find one. He is always up for reading no matter where he is or who he's with.
Riding
Simon loves to ride horses with his brother. The two could ride for hours. Simon loves horses and always takes care of his own horse instead of making the stable hand do it as he has always taken care of his own horse.
Studying
Simon is constantly studying. He has a private tutor that he shares with Guy though Simon is more prompt with their work. Simon loves to learn new information is always doing extra research when he can.
Habits:
Humming/tapping
Simon loves to hum, he may not be very good at it, but he always hums when he's thinking. Along with humming, he is constantly tapping his fingers, feet, and or his writing utensil.
Staring off into space
When Simon isn't reading, and is just sitting around with nothing else to do, he zones out and will not react to anything unless he snaps out of it or he is touched by someone else in order to get his attention.
Oddities:
Panic Attacks
If Simon gets too much going on, he will have a panic attack which consists of him breaking down. He can't help but go into a mode where he won't respond no matter what except to his brother. He can't eat, won't respond, and goes into a state of unconsciousness after the hyperventilating. This only occurs in highly stressful, seemingly hopeless situations such as the time his father died. These panic attacks didn't start coming until after his father died however.

Likes/Loves:
  • Studying
  • Swords
  • Training
  • Reading
  • Books of any genre
  • Most Foods
  • Riding
  • Diplomacy
  • His brother
Dislikes/Hates:
  • Running
  • Sweating
  • Rudeness
  • People being horrible to his brother
  • Being ignored
  • All the girls his brother dated without any feelings for them
  • Fire
  • Training too much
  • Soreness




What's Done Is Done




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Biography
Place Of Origin:
Ostwall
History:
Simon and his twin brother Guy were born in an estate on one of Ostwall's peninsula. Simon and Guy grew up without their mother as she died in childbirth. Their father was often not around them as he worked a lot leaving the boys to grow very close to each other. The two grew up running around the estate and helping around the house for lack of wanting to do anything else. The boys fell in love with horse back riding and would skip lessons with their tutor in order to be out riding.

Guy and Simon were out visiting a nearby town when Simon saw a girl and fell for her the instant he saw her. Simon would disappear for hours on end while Guy was in town waiting for his brother to show up. The girl Simon was with actually was just using him to try and get to Guy who had had a habit of gambling and was believed to be a hustler.

Simon was jumped by the girl's friends and the Simon was nearly killed when Guy came in and helped his brother out with some friends. When Guy got his brother home and Simon was able to respond to people, he was not able to recall what had happened after getting beaten up. Guy took on a persona in order to try and keep Simon away from girls by taking all of them for himself. Guy solemnly trusts any girls and usually hates any that interact with Simon while Simon hates every girl that swoons over Guy for Simon knows it's only for Guy's looks.

The two grew close again and were out riding one day when they saw smoke in the distance. The rode towards it, fearing for they knew where they were heading. As they emerged over a valley, they saw their estate in flames taller than they'd ever seen before. They ran forward to help resulting in Guy's leg getting burned and Simon having to pull him out. Few people made it out of the fire, not including the twins' father, Pristas leaving them orphaned. The two rode to their uncle's household in order to find some family for he was all they knew of.

AS they arrived, they developed a loving memory of their uncle as he provided the boys with a life that was as easy as possible with both parents gone. The two were able to store away to pain of loss and indulge themselves in studies upon discovering their love of reading. Guy took up a variety of art skills and was very good at it while Simon continued to study in depth, hoping to assist their cousin Ronan rule the country one day by being an adviser or diplomat. Simon works hard to be able to be close to his brother's level with a sword in order to give him "a proper sparring partner that would know his every move and act almost as a mirror," Simon once claimed.
Happiest Memory:
Riding with his brother out in the fields near the estate they lived on.
Saddest Memory:
Their father dying and seeing the remains of their home. Also the fact that the cause of the fire was never identified.




Face Claim:
Dave Franco

So begins...

Simon Priestas's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ronan Ulfricson Character Portrait: Genevieve Hansdottir Character Portrait: Ulfric Bjornson Character Portrait: Guy Priestas Character Portrait: Simon Priestas
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Her hair, now cascading down her shoulders, was far easier for him to weave his fingers through. As one hand continued to stay wrapped about her waist, he ran his other hand's fingers through her golden hair. Ronan's lips seemed to subconsciously yearn for her as she pushed him back for a moment, for they remained slightly puckered.

She was, quite honestly, quite brilliant. Yes, he was intelligent, but Genevieve had a certain cat-like slyness about her that Ronan often failed to possess. But he was convincing, a man who could easily talk his way out of the deepest pits. And that was why they would easily be able to kill Ulfric.

"It's perfect," he breathed, grinning like a small child might grin having been presented with a long-awaited gift. And to Ronan, that was precisely what it was. He had awaited this moment for too long now. Two years, perhaps, Ulfric had lived alongside the man who plotted his murder. And the old man thought nothing of it. "It's exactly what we've waited for, my darling." She may have felt the quick jerk of a laugh he gave while kissing his jaw.

There was a moment where he merely looked down at her, absolutely captivated by the moment. By her beauty. By her plan. By the justice that he would serve. It was a long-awaited justice, one he knew would be incomparably sweet to him. In the next moment, he had picked her up in his arms and swung her about for a heartbeat in a loving embrace.

And then he released her on the bed and followed her down on to the plush covers, his lips connecting with hers once more as the ignorant old fool went about his business without, as far as Ronan knew, any knowledge of what was going on behind the closed doors of the bedroom.








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The fool was once more lost in his thoughts, far too overwhelmed by what he had seen or what he had thought he had seen. He could only pray to the Gods that it was the latter. He needed someone to turn to. Freya. But she was dead, and she would remain dead. He had never been close enough with his children to confide in them, something he slowly, in this moment, began to regret.

But there was a voice to his side, and once more he was pulled out of his reverie. He had forgotten about the hunt, quite honestly. It was a welcome escape from the formality of the rest of the celebration. And it would provide a moment, he prayed, to confront Ronan about his concerns. "It would be rude to not attend, Guy," he replied. "It is a sacrifice I am certain you and Simon can make for the day."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Celia Ulfricdottir Character Portrait: Ronan Ulfricson Character Portrait: Ulfric Bjornson Character Portrait: Guy Priestas Character Portrait: Simon Priestas
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Simon had gone to bed rather late for whatever reason. Guy had stayed downstairs dancing the night away with various women and eventually taking a break before resuming his dancing. How Guy was a wonderful dancer, yet horrible sympathizer was beyond Simon. Simon had sat back and enjoyed his book up until a women had asked him to dance for whatever reason and he was forced to stand and do a dance with her, then the next lady who asked, then the next one. Simon was almost positive the ladies had just mixed him and Guy up.

ImageNow Simon stood anxiously next to his horse, carefully adjusting the saddle while waiting for his brother to show up. Simon had been told by Guy what Ulfric said, yet he wasn't even here himself yet. Soon the hunt would begin and his brother hadn't even showed up to participate in activities with those who were staying behind. Groaning, Simon mounted his horse. The squire that stood nearby with Guy's horse looking around, not anxious, just curious as to where the noble had gotten.

Simon looked up to see his uncle and his cousin converse nearby before leaving. Ulfric called something to Celia that made Simon furrow his brow, confused as to why Ulfric would say something along those lines. Simon considered joining them, but figured it wouldn't be too good of an idea. He was still sure that Guy would come forth and show himself with a rumpled look to him and a large smile on his face. Everyone else had arrived it appeared. Guy was literally the last man to show up, if you thought a seventeen year old as a man. If a fifteen year old was a king, why not consider a seventeen year old a man?

"Guy, where are you?" Simon mutters under his breath as he turns his horse in a circle, trying to spot his brother from the castle in the distance. Perhaps he had just slept in too much and was still sleeping. That's what he'd been telling himself for the past hour as he had gone through the motions of preparing for the hunt without his brother. Simon did hope that their uncle didn't get mad at Guy. It had been rather clear.

Simon saw a familiar face in the crowd and smiled slightly upon seeing the squire assisting him during their stay at the castle approach. He didn't look too happy about his news. "Sir, your brother, he told me to tell you he will meet you in the woods," The squire states, bending over to catch his breath. Simon groaned softly again. What was Guy up to? He saw a few people getting ready to begin and followed them, hoping Guy would be true to his word, Simon took off on the hunt with a few others, bow in hand.

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Guy stood from his seat he had taken to stare at the partially blank canvas. The rain had fallen causing a spider web outside on his balcony to have drops of rain running along the strands. He had resigned himself to capture the beautiful image before it dried or the spider came to tear it down. He didn't know what he'd do if the spider showed up, perhaps kill it since he didn't like spiders.

ImageGuy was currently trying to figure out how to start. Should he paint the web starting with the droplets or the web itself? And how would he capture the web itself when it took him adjusting his view of the web in order to see the delicate strands. He sighed and decided it was time for a break. He had set everything up, so his break wasn't done after entirely nothing, just mostly nothing. He looked out the window, beyond the web to see the hunt commencing.

He didn't have any plans on joining his brother. Sure he had said he'd join, and his uncle had told him to join, but that didn't mean he wanted to, or would. Perhaps someone other than his brother and cousins would try to defend him. It wasn't like he was entirely alone in the world, just mostly, like his preparation of the painting. His brother would be mad, and possibly ignore Guy for a day or two, then he would forgive Guy and the two would love each other again and resume studying and practicing together in their spare time.

Guy resumed staring at the canvas before picking up the paintbrush nearby and gently beginning the work, deciding it best to begin with the web itself, then add the water droplets on as if they were gently placed there by himself, with his own fingers, not his paintbrush. Guy watched with a smile as his web began to take shape. He was pretty sure his shirt wouldn't ever be clean again thanks to him using it for a rag rather than an actual rag.

Guy looked at what he had so far and smiled. On the canvas sat a well put together web that didn't look exactly the way he wanted it to, but close enough. Nothing he ever painted looked exactly as he wanted it to, it just wasn't possible considering he couldn't capture every single aspect. He always saw the painting as incomplete yet everyone else who had seen his work, his brother and servants, thought they looked identical to the real life model. In Guy's eyes however, they looked like trash and he wished he could just dump each and everyone of them. He would have had it not been for his not wanting to waste the precious paint and canvas.

Guy slowly set his brush down and moved to lay on his bed before remembering his shirt and instead moving to lean against the door frame yet again. If he could, he'd trap his brother in here and let him read and study to his heat's content while Guy painted. He didn't really love anyone in a romantic way, and sometimes wished he did, but shook his head, pushing the hopeful thoughts away. He couldn't, not yet, not until his brother would finally find someone worth loving and love her and then, well, not consider any other ladies at all.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ronan Ulfricson Character Portrait: Renly Arryn Character Portrait: Simon Priestas
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ImageSimon had followed along in the hunt, not really paying attention as he thought of his brother. Where was he? Sighing, Simon raised his bow as he saw a target and fired quickly and efficiently, taking down his target. A nearby boy ran to retrieve the prize though Simon hardly felt like celebrating. He was about to turn back and just go back to the tents when he heard a horrible sort of cry.

Simon moved towards the sound, seeing his cousin, Ronan, and his half cousin, Renly. Upon hearing Ronan's decree, Simon froze, ice taking over his veins. His uncle, dead? It wasn't possible, he was such a strong man of power, not even he could be felled, right? Simon shook his head as he stared at his cousin, finally noticing the blood on his face.

"No... You... Uncle..." Simon whispers looking towards where Ronan came from but not wanting to go see the horrible sight should Ronan be telling the truth. Why wouldn't he though? His father was dead. Simon felt something break in his chest, his second father, was gone. He had to tell Guy, no he couldn't tell Guy, it would break him.

Ronan looked as heartbroken as Simon felt. Simon let his bow drop in front of him in the saddle, not allowing himself to dismount for fear his legs wouldn't hold him. "That... How?" Simon manages through his stupor, wondering how this disaster could have come to be.

Simon breathed deeply, trying to recuperate. The breath was ragged and he felt more like he was breathing in glass rather than air. He looked to his cousin, finally realizing what this meant now. It was both good and bad he guessed. Good because it wouldn't be entirely chaotic with an heir, bad because Ulfric was dead, and Ronan didn't really like Guy.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ronan Ulfricson Character Portrait: Renly Arryn Character Portrait: Ulfric Bjornson Character Portrait: Simon Priestas
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โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€
๏ผฒ๏ผฅ๏ผฎ๏ผฌ๏ผนx๏ผก๏ผฒ๏ผฒ๏ผน๏ผฎ
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"He shed a lake of blood and murdered a king
for a cold, lonely throne."
โ€• Jayne Castel

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No sooner had Renly heard the wail, he bolted in the king and prince's direction, slapping the reign's hard and driving his heels deep into his destrier's side. The second he made it into the trees, he dismounted with a skill and ease he didn't even know he possessed, and was on the ground and running before his horse even had a moment to catch it's breath. It was then, as he rounded the bend of an oak, the sight spilled out before him like some horrible farce of a stage play with Ulfric's name freshly written on the playbill in a spattering of blood instead of ink. Renly didn't know how to react, he felt as if he were falling over himself to read the act descriptionsโ€”but there was nothing there, nothing there but a facsimile of a son's face in pain and mourning hovering over the king. Ren's knees trembled and his body shook, wracked with shock. This was the man who offered him a home and a future, a man he didn't know too well, but one that had be unfailingly kind in his own stoic and quiet sort of way.

"Renly! T-the King...h-he's...he's dead." Ronan voiced, the sound of it hollowed and empty. The young ward stumbled over to the body instinctively, his legs catching on one another and tripping him up so that he just fell short of the corpse, face biting into a hard forest floor not softened by it's blanket of dampened leaves. He scrambled forward after that and pressed a trembling set of hands to the wound, hope still alight in his big blue eyes that had a sleepless night scrawled in bruises under them and were beginning to well up with tears.

Other shouts came in rolling waves, voices crying out like bands of seagulls squawking senselessly. He recognized Simon's somewhere a midst the white noise, Ulfric's nephew. He was asking the wrong questions, How? He should of been offering to help. Ren's clothes were now black and slick with blood as he still tried to keep pressure on the injury, and he began to wonder why it was him on his knees and not the king's son, Ronan. Did no one care about saving him? Renly was in denial, trying to save that which was already gone. A lost gust of wind offended the taciturn trees like the trembling premonition of the horrible future that prowled at their heels. Everything had changed. Renly should have followed after them, this was all his fault.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ronan Ulfricson Character Portrait: Renly Arryn Character Portrait: Simon Priestas
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Dismounted now, Ronan watched the mournful Renly. It was difficult to stop from breaking out into a gleeful smile, difficult to maintain a face full of grief and mourning. Instead, Ronan settle for an expression of nothingness as if he had been broken by Ulfric's death. He hear another voice as he and Renly approached the corpse. Simon, he noted, hearing one of his younger cousin stammer and struggle for words to explain the situation. Ronan had not intended for either of the other men to follow him, but it certainly seem to be negatively affecting him. In fact, perhaps it would simply better his situation.

He wiped crocodile tears from his eyes as he stepped towards the fallen ward of his father. Renly would be his ward now, wouldn't he? A smart boy, most certainly, but he was too clever at times, and though Ronan himself had never been a stupid man, he couldn't help but be concerned that perhaps the young ward might prove to be more of a challenge than an asset. He was king now, however. Should the boy turn out to be too much of a burden, he would be cast out.

Simon's stammered question brought him to his senses once more. Ronan wiped the blood on his face as he wiped once more at tears he was still struggling to summon. The blood wiped across his face too, giving him the appearance of one of the ancient chieftains in modern Ostwall. He took a moment to gather a shuddering breath. "He wished to carry on our hunt by foot," he began softly. "I didn't...he didn't even..." Ronan gave himself a moment, lip beginning to quiver as he began to force himself to think of truly sad moments. Celia dying. Corianna dying. Genevieve dying. Freya dying. He wept wholeheartedly.

"T-the boar...he came up from...behind," Ronan started, the sobs truly causing his lower lip to quiver like a babe. In that moment, perhaps he would look weak, but in the long run, he would prove that he was not. He would make certain of that. "He hardly had time to react...and I tried to pull the v-vile thing from him, b-but...the damage had been d-done."

He slowly turned his attention back to Renly then, feebly and hopelessly attempting to staunch the bleeding with his hands. The front of the boy was drenched in the blood that had once coursed through Ulfric's body. Renly was making him look emotionless, fake...weak. Before he knew what he was doing, Ronan rushed forward and gripped the teenager by his shoulder. The sudden move would, most likely, catch Renly off guard and send him falling on to his back. "He is dead, damn it! Your sniveling won't bring him back!" Ronan cried as an ominous wind blew through the trees. Even through the treetops, it was easy to see that the storm was returning. Unlike his new ward, however, Ronan saw little symbolism in it. "We need to...his body must move." He spoke coldly, and the facade dissolved as a few raindrops pattered against his head.

Ronan wrapped his arms around Ulfric's chest and hefted his body upwards, hoping one of the others would seize his legs. When he tried to place the corpse over his own horse, the black stallion grew restless. He turned then to look at Ulfric's dun mare, who, when he draped the body across her back, accepted the burden knowingly, as if she could tell that she was weighed down for the last time by the man who had once ridden her into battle so many years ago.

One of Ronan's gloved hands seized the reins of the mare, and the other gathered up his stallion's reins as the sad procession made their way back towards the tents of the other nobles. As they walked past, some nobles who must have heard the cry from Ronan began to emerge from the woods, and they gasped or whispered amongst themselves, unable to process what they were seeing. Those from Ostwall began to weep or gaze after their king blankly. Those from the other kingdoms simply refused to believe in the death of Ulfric Bjornson, a man that the song writers claimed to be immortal. Occasionally, they stopped for Ronan to readjust the body as needed, but otherwise, the party went uninterrupted. Not by sound, nor movement, for a somber mood had fallen over what had once been a joyous occasion.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ronan Ulfricson Character Portrait: Christoph Edwards Character Portrait: Renly Arryn Character Portrait: Lucas Navigne Character Portrait: Nicholas Brigham Character Portrait: Evelyne Spyre Character Portrait: Simon Bjornson Character Portrait: Guy Priestas Character Portrait: Simon Priestas Character Portrait: Priscilla Augusta Edwards
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Simon stared at the sight in horror, feeling something like regret and guilt even though he had not killed his uncle. He listened to Ronan's story, not believing this was how his uncle died. He believed Ronan, but was in disbelieving that his might uncle would fall in such a way. "Ronan," Simon begins upon seeing his cousin growing colder by the second. He didn't like that he was speaking to Renly that way, he didn't like it when he spoke like that to anyone.


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Simon moved forward to help his cousin lift his deceased uncle, holding back the feeling he wanted to go crawl into bed and sleep forever. Simon grabbed the reins of his horse as they passed her, helping Ronan guide Ulfric's body on Ulfric's horse. Simon walked solemnly, his face devoid of any emotion. Where was his brother? Simon breathed deeply, not making eye contact with anyone as they moved forward. He hated it, he hated everything at that moment if he was going to be honest with himself.

"Ronan, have you seen Guy this morning?" Simon mutters under his breath, wanting to know if anyone had seen Guy at all. He knew Ronan and Guy had something against each other, but he had hoped the two might at least know each other's whereabouts on such a large day as a hunt.

Simon saw his uncle's arm fall off from where it had been on his chest causing Simon to turn away for a moment. The man who had taken him and his brother in, the one who had practically raised them, their father's brother, gone.

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Guy smiled as he stepped back, looking at the web with drops of dew hanging off it as if it was hanging in his window. Guy looked out to see storm clouds brewing and frowned, pulling his painting inside but keeping the windows open. He liked the humidity storms brought. He studied his painting again, frowning now as he saw that he hadn't caught the light, he had neglected the light! He'd have to start over. He sighed and tossed the half dry painting on his bed.

Guy heard a rush at the door then saw a servant barge in. "Prince Guy," He begins, out of breath and looking horrible. Guy instantly knew something was wrong, something had happened. Was the storm worse than he had figured it would be? "Is Simon alright?" He demanded, fearful his twin might have broken himself should he have gone on the hunt. Simon had figured his brother would have just stayed in bed, not go on the hunt without him. Now he wished he had gone. "No, sir, you're uncle..." The guard hesitated, as if he wasn't quite sure what to do.


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"Well?" Guy presses, moving to grab his vest. "You're uncle... you should come see him," The guard finishes. Guy nods, pulling on his boots and grabbing his cloak as well as Simon's. He had left it in Guy's room after their ride outside yesterday. Guy followed the guard, walking quickly. What could have happened to his uncle that had caused such behavior? He probably was just sick or had pulled something, wanting to have Guy around just so that he felt a little better.

Guy followed the guard until they were outside where the guard pointed to the tents. Guy saw his brother, his shoulders hunched, looking rather unhappy. Frowning, Guy accepted his horse from a nearby squire he looked relieved to be going back into the stables. Guy felt bad for making the kid stand outside for so long, but dismissed it as he mounted and rode towards his brother. He saw something on Ulfric's horse, perhaps his cloak. As Guy rode closer, he slowed, seeing people were crying or staring at Ulfric's cloak. "Simon... What's wrong?" Guy asks as he dismounts, approaching the small procession where he spotted Renly and Ronan as well. Simon's head sprung up, staring at Guy with something Guy had rarely seen from his brother.

"Where were you?" Simon asks, staring at his brother. Guy looks at his brother with surprise. "What do you mean? Simon what's wrong with uncle?" Guy asks as he walks forward, offering Simon his cloak.

Simon takes it only to throw it on the ground, furious at his brother. He needed an out, he couldn't let it out on Ronan or Renly and there was nobody else around that could take his anger but his brother, even if it was a little hard now. Simon looks around incredulously, then walks forward to grab his brother by the vest. "Don't you get it? How can you not see it? That's him, that's him right there, Guy. He's gone," Simon declares, pushing his brother towards Ulfric's body before turning and leaving, having a hard time taking the horror.

Guy looks at what he thought was Ulfric's cloak but catches sight of his uncle's pale hand. "Oh my God," He whispers, looking around and realizing what had happened. He wanted to fall on his knees, but withheld, staring at the body, then Ronan on the other side of the horse, then back at Ulfric.

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Lucas noticed the disapproval from the count and his friends. Lucas nearly ignored Christoph altogether had it not been for Priscilla coming over. He couldn't believe the girl was sitting with her father, in his lap. He couldn't remember the last time he had sat in his father's lap, he couldn't remember the last time he had talked to his father about something like that.

His attention was caught when he spot the king of Ostwall was shown to be dead. He moved closer to his ward, standing right behind him. They had been apart too long, he was afraid now more than ever that he wouldn't be able to keep Nicholas safe, especially when one of the strongest king through the world was found dead, killed.

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: Corianna Ulfricdottir Character Portrait: Annabelle Waldorf Character Portrait: Loras Edwards Character Portrait: Cassandra Lannister Character Portrait: Rosalie Lannister Character Portrait: Lorelle de Croismare Character Portrait: Lucas Navigne Character Portrait: Nicholas Brigham Character Portrait: Tyrion Lannister Character Portrait: Elanor Lannister Character Portrait: Evelyne Spyre Character Portrait: Guy Priestas Character Portrait: Simon Priestas Character Portrait: Priscilla Augusta Edwards
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The King's hand brushed lightly against the scar that still graced his left cheek -- a bitter-sweet reminder of how he had come to stand here beside Genevieve. His coronation, given the lack of spiritual leaders in the widely-diverse Ostwall, was headed by one of the eldest chieftains within the kingdom's borders, a man of a staggering seventy-seven years. Ronan's hair and beard had grown out to appear more like his people, from whom he required approval. The thick fur of a bear, draped about his shoulders, only helped further that image and reflect the symbol of his father. The pelts seemed to weigh him down greatly. They most certainly were the reason beads of sweat had begun to form on his brow. Or perhaps they came from the worry that, somehow, they'd trace the murder back to him.

The death of Ostwall's monarch had brought the festivities to a screeching halt. Ulfric's burial had been a ceremonious one, and the kingdom had grieved for months, meaning the current coronation had been unable to occur until now, two months later. In the mean time, Ronan suddenly found himself in the shoes of a man he had only, until then, dreamed of becoming. He played the part well, and Genevieve had as well. It was only when they were behind closed doors that she lost her air of nearly-constant mourning. Even then, he had not permitted her to be joyful in public until far after he had announced his plans to wed her.

Ronan moved his hand to brush at his brow then, and as he looked up at the chieftain before him, he noticed Celia just a bit off, holding Volundr. His son. He could never acknowledge the boy as his own, for the kingdom believed he had been the child of Ulfric and Genevieve, but Ronan told himself that the young prince should rightfully bear the surname of Ronanson. It pained him that it should be otherwise.

The chieftain stumbled over his words, causing Ronan to look back at him. Ostwall, unlike the other two kingdoms, had never truly adopted the more traditional concept of coronation until Ronan had insisted upon modernizing the nation. The chieftain had little idea as to what he was doing, and the words on the page made little sense given the fact that he was just barely literate. His stammering ended soon, thankfully, and he moved on to the crowning of the royals. The crown that was placed upon his head was nothing more than a thick band of iron with ornate patterns carved into it. The real beauty and power laid in the heavy chain that was placed about his neck, further weighing him down.

It was a relic dating back to times before even Falor had been unified when the clans of the North would give the chain to the strongest chieftain in the land. Over time, the simple chain had been added to in terms of links and precious stones until it hung heavy enough that it was only used for ceremonies. This, of course, was one of them.

As Genevieve went through a similar ceremony, receiving a less burdensome crown and chain that he had had created, for up until this point, the consort of the king of Ostwall had no political say. Though he had most certainly received the approval of the others in his kingdom, he knew they hardly approved of this action. Nevertheless, he turned around to great his people, hand reaching for Genevieve's as he did so. The chieftain cleared his voice once more before speaking in his thickly accented voice.

"I present to you King Ronan Bjorn Ulfricson, first of his name, and his queen, Genevieve Hansdottir of Falor, first of her name."




The proceeding festivities were a welcome change for all in Ostwall, having been in a period of nearly perpetual mourning for two months. A mixture of traditional and foreign instruments played, inspiring many to leave the banquet table in order to dance. Ronan, a bit too drunk by then to gracefully find his footing, resolved to stay at the table where he held the one month old Volundr in his arms. The King brushed a finger along the boy's cheek, laughing as the young prince gripped it and inspected the calloused finger with fascination.

"It's wonderful, is it not?" he remarked, looking out on the crowd of nobles, local and foreign, who occupied the hall. "It's ours now." Ronan continued to look about, meeting the gaze of a few nobles who watched the pair closely, with judgement visible in their eyes even from at the royals' place at the table. He knew they spoke about him and Genevieve quite often. It was most certainly scandalous for anyone to marry their widowed stepmother, let alone just months after her husband's death, but there were no laws regarding marriage in Ostwall.

Propping the small child up in his lap, Ronan gripped his tankard of ale and sipped from it for a moment, positioning it afterwards so that it attempted to block out the gossiping nobles. It hardly helped, however, and he simply turned back to Genevieve with his arm once more around Volundr.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ronan Ulfricson Character Portrait: Renly Arryn Character Portrait: Nicholas Brigham Character Portrait: Guy Priestas Character Portrait: Simon Priestas
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Guy and Simon had stood beside each other during the ceremony for Ronan. Both were even thinner than before. They stood close to Ronan but not very close because their title wasn't as high as some other people's titles. Guy and Simon had been rather surprised upon hearing that their cousin was going to wed their aunt after their uncle had just died. It was a rather strange outcome, but it had happened before.

Their child, or perhaps it was Ulfric's son, it was a ratehr confusing mess, was extremely close to Ronan. The twins liked him, but weren't sure about anything and often kept to themselves for the most part over the months of mourning.

The two stood side by side, looking up at their cousin, both with different feelings. They matched with their coronet they had been told to wear. They had both not wanted to really attend, not telling the other, but did knowing they had to.

Simon looked to Ronan, for the most part respectfully, but also somewhat unapprovingly, covering up the latter emotion extremely well. Guy, on the other hand, might as well have held a sword at Ronan's throat for all he was hiding his emotions. He knew his cousin knew he was not entirely trusting of him. He would have to talk with Ronan about his curiosity. There was just too many coincidences. Simon had been the one to teach him there was never such a thing as a coincidence.



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Upon arriving at the party, Simon looked around for his brother. Wondering where he might have gotten to. The two of them had tried avoiding the party but had yet again been told to attend by some advisers. Simon saw his brother sitting at the banquet table, sipping from a glass of wine as he watched people dance.

As he made his way over to his brother, he heard his cousin talking to his son. "It's ours now," He stated in a way that caught Simon's ear but not enough to really think about it more than that initial second. He continued his approach to Guy, leaning against his chair and picking at a lock of his brother's hair that rested inside the dreadful coronets both didn't like wearing.

Guy and Simon, though originally not talking to each other because of their anger and grief, were closer than ever now. The two had made up after Guy had gotten into a brawl in one of towns upon hearing some idiots complaining of how weak some of the royal family had been in response to the death. Simon had been looking for Guy so they could go to a meeting when he found his brother losing the fight. Simon had gone in to help his brother and the two had walked out relatively okay, but both knowing they couldn't fight like that had again.

"How're you doing?" Simon asked softly as he watched the dancing on the floor continue. Guy shrugged. He still didn't really want to do anything these days except stay in his room. Simon had found his brother wrecking his artwork the day before. They had really bad days on occasion and Guy had had one the day before. Nearly all of the artwork in his room had been destroyed. He had just about torn apart a beautiful painting of a spider web when Simon had caught him and wrestled it away.

Guy took another sip of his wine then set the glass on the counter. He ran his finger over the rim as if considering his words, then looked up at Simon. "Everything is so different. I don't like it. I feel like I can't walk down the hall without having to look over my shoulder for something to come get me. It's just really hard," Guy said simply. Between the two, Guy had more bad days and was taking everything worse than his brother.

"I know, and you know things always get better, slowly," Simon said softly, ruffling his brother's hair. They didn't like the sentimental feel, but it did make them feel better. "Why don't you find a beautiful girl to grab for a dance?" Simon asked his brother with a hint of mischief in his voice now. Guy smiled slightly, looking over the crowd. "I'm afraid no female can match my own beauty," Guy announces rather overdramatically. Simon rolls his eyes before taking up Guy's wine glass and sitting beside him, taking a sip for himself.

"Are you ready for the trip to the town tomorrow?" Simon asks, knowing Guy had been planning a trip to town for weeks to pick up supplies. Simon had feared his brother wouldn't go after his episode yesterday, but was relieved to see Guy give a strong nod, looking as if his thoughts were elsewhere even though he was listening at the same time.

"I think I'm going to retire, I'm rather drained," Guy admitted quietly, standing and looking down at his brother. Simon nodded, taking another sip of wine. "Alright then, see you in the morning after your trip to town," Simon said with a smile and a tiny wave. Guy returned the gesture, then moved to leave, hoping Ronan wouldn't ask to speak with him as he walked past the new king.