Throneland: Original Character challenge
Oct. 5th, 2011 04:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
meridian_roseOriginal character for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
throneland: Melisandre Rivers
Wiki: 504 words
Melisandre Rivers was born to a minor noble, Lysandre Martell, whose family had fallen on hard times, and who sacrificed the last of her lands to marry her blacksmith lover, Theomar Rivers, to the simultaneous disgust and delight of her cousin who inherited her lands.
Theomar died shortly after Melisandre was born, leaving the impoverished former lady to raise Melisandre and her older brother, Reed, alone. Melisandre helped her mother with sewing to make ends meet. Reed tried his best, but he was no blacksmith, and he turned his hand to farm labouring, with no better success.
Her mother died when Melisandre was fifteen. Her brother was determined to find her a husband and bethrothed her to his closest friend, Rickard Merryweather, the best match he could make.
Reed then left to take the black. Melisandre, by now a competent seamstress, was determined to make the best of things, and to do her part to earn her keep. That they both missed Reed was the only thing Melisandre and Rickard ever had in common. He was never cruel or mean to her, but nor did Rickard ever show her any affection. In fact, their marriage was never consummated and Rickard left unexpectedly one day saying he had to follow his heart and join the Night's Watch.
Melisandre was taunted by some of the villagers, while pitied by others, for having 'driven her husband celibate'. The last straw was when she briefly courted a traveller to the village only for him to confess that he too was bound for the Wall.
Determined to prove her worth sexually, and to gain control over her own life instead of relying on men who kept deserting her, Melisandre set herself up as a whore. On her second job, the customer become violent and gave her a jagged scar on one shoulder. Whores, she was told, by anyone still talking to her, ought to be kept by a master who would manage her affairs – quite the opposite of what she wanted.
Melisandre sold the last of her mother's jewellery and used the money to move out to a new town where no-one knew her. Here she purchased an inn that had fallen into disrepair, and reinvented herself as the whore, Melissa, under the protection of the fearsome Reed Merryweather.
This monstrous man – seen rarely, and only in the dimly lit office at the back of the whorehouse, always wearing his voluminous cloak – had, she told everyone, given her the scar on her shoulder as punishment for her disobedience. He'd been injured while a soldier, and spoke only in a hoarse whisper, and preferred to keep his scarred face covered. He'd killed many men, and Melisandre made sure to tell some gory stories to customers to keep them in fear of her 'keeper'.
Eventually Melisandre took one of the new whores, Alaria, into her confidence; Alaria's help made it easier for Melisandre to greet people as 'Reed Merryweather' in her office. So far, no-one else has caught onto the deceit.
Family Tree
Drabble: 393 words
Title: At Your Service
"Good evening," Melisandre said cordially. Politeness, even to the most rowdy customers, could sometimes remind them to behave with a measure of decorum. "I am Melissa. Can I help you this evening?"
The taller man nodded. "I want blonde. Skinny. Nice ass."
His two companions giggled but Melisandre nodded and beckoned to Alaria. "Alaria, I think, will suit your requirements."
Alaria put on her best smile and hooked her arm through the gentleman's. Only Melisandre caught her eye-roll as they went past.
"And you gentlemen?"
The one with dark hair gestured. "I'm not choosy."
"Not after so much wine you're not," the third man agreed. "He's right. Just give him another jug of ale and a pair of tits to suckle on a little and he'll be no bother to you."
Melisandre caught the eye of her youngest whore. This man seemed to be a congenial drunk, an easy evening's work, and well within the inexperienced girl's capabilities.
Now just the third man and Melisandre were left.
"Is it true you run this place for Merryweather?"
A talker. Marvellous. Melisandre bit back a sigh. "Yes."
"And he gave you a scar?"
She lifted the sleeve of her gown. He peered it at intently.
"You should find someone who values you rather than decreases your worth," the man said.
"None of my customers have complained about the mark," Melisandre said. "Most find it rather intriguing. In fact, one of her customers was so obsessed with it that he only ever slept with 'Melissa' and spent hours licking and suckling at the scar.
"Merryweather's a hard taskmaster, eh? Is it true he pulled off some horse thief's head with his bare hands?"
The thing about legends was that they took on a life of their own. Melisandre hadn't heard this one before.
"Broke his neck," she amended, always aiming for realism. "But these things become exaggerated in the telling. He did behead several men in battle, so he tells me."
The man nodded and stroked at his beard. "And are you available, Melissa?"
She could say no; as the madam of the whorehouse and the fictional Merryweather's right hand, she could be on front of house duty whenever it pleased her to be. Yet there was something in this one's eyes that pleased her.
"For the right price," she said, "I am at your service."
Online resources used
http://rumandmonkey.com/widgets/toys/namegen/14783/
http://rumandmonkey.com/widgets/toys/namegen/14796/
http://pickaface.net/
throneland: Melisandre RiversWiki: 504 words
Melisandre Rivers was born to a minor noble, Lysandre Martell, whose family had fallen on hard times, and who sacrificed the last of her lands to marry her blacksmith lover, Theomar Rivers, to the simultaneous disgust and delight of her cousin who inherited her lands.
Theomar died shortly after Melisandre was born, leaving the impoverished former lady to raise Melisandre and her older brother, Reed, alone. Melisandre helped her mother with sewing to make ends meet. Reed tried his best, but he was no blacksmith, and he turned his hand to farm labouring, with no better success.
Her mother died when Melisandre was fifteen. Her brother was determined to find her a husband and bethrothed her to his closest friend, Rickard Merryweather, the best match he could make.
Reed then left to take the black. Melisandre, by now a competent seamstress, was determined to make the best of things, and to do her part to earn her keep. That they both missed Reed was the only thing Melisandre and Rickard ever had in common. He was never cruel or mean to her, but nor did Rickard ever show her any affection. In fact, their marriage was never consummated and Rickard left unexpectedly one day saying he had to follow his heart and join the Night's Watch.
Melisandre was taunted by some of the villagers, while pitied by others, for having 'driven her husband celibate'. The last straw was when she briefly courted a traveller to the village only for him to confess that he too was bound for the Wall.
Determined to prove her worth sexually, and to gain control over her own life instead of relying on men who kept deserting her, Melisandre set herself up as a whore. On her second job, the customer become violent and gave her a jagged scar on one shoulder. Whores, she was told, by anyone still talking to her, ought to be kept by a master who would manage her affairs – quite the opposite of what she wanted.
Melisandre sold the last of her mother's jewellery and used the money to move out to a new town where no-one knew her. Here she purchased an inn that had fallen into disrepair, and reinvented herself as the whore, Melissa, under the protection of the fearsome Reed Merryweather.
This monstrous man – seen rarely, and only in the dimly lit office at the back of the whorehouse, always wearing his voluminous cloak – had, she told everyone, given her the scar on her shoulder as punishment for her disobedience. He'd been injured while a soldier, and spoke only in a hoarse whisper, and preferred to keep his scarred face covered. He'd killed many men, and Melisandre made sure to tell some gory stories to customers to keep them in fear of her 'keeper'.
Eventually Melisandre took one of the new whores, Alaria, into her confidence; Alaria's help made it easier for Melisandre to greet people as 'Reed Merryweather' in her office. So far, no-one else has caught onto the deceit.
Family Tree
Drabble: 393 words
Title: At Your Service
"Good evening," Melisandre said cordially. Politeness, even to the most rowdy customers, could sometimes remind them to behave with a measure of decorum. "I am Melissa. Can I help you this evening?"
The taller man nodded. "I want blonde. Skinny. Nice ass."
His two companions giggled but Melisandre nodded and beckoned to Alaria. "Alaria, I think, will suit your requirements."
Alaria put on her best smile and hooked her arm through the gentleman's. Only Melisandre caught her eye-roll as they went past.
"And you gentlemen?"
The one with dark hair gestured. "I'm not choosy."
"Not after so much wine you're not," the third man agreed. "He's right. Just give him another jug of ale and a pair of tits to suckle on a little and he'll be no bother to you."
Melisandre caught the eye of her youngest whore. This man seemed to be a congenial drunk, an easy evening's work, and well within the inexperienced girl's capabilities.
Now just the third man and Melisandre were left.
"Is it true you run this place for Merryweather?"
A talker. Marvellous. Melisandre bit back a sigh. "Yes."
"And he gave you a scar?"
She lifted the sleeve of her gown. He peered it at intently.
"You should find someone who values you rather than decreases your worth," the man said.
"None of my customers have complained about the mark," Melisandre said. "Most find it rather intriguing. In fact, one of her customers was so obsessed with it that he only ever slept with 'Melissa' and spent hours licking and suckling at the scar.
"Merryweather's a hard taskmaster, eh? Is it true he pulled off some horse thief's head with his bare hands?"
The thing about legends was that they took on a life of their own. Melisandre hadn't heard this one before.
"Broke his neck," she amended, always aiming for realism. "But these things become exaggerated in the telling. He did behead several men in battle, so he tells me."
The man nodded and stroked at his beard. "And are you available, Melissa?"
She could say no; as the madam of the whorehouse and the fictional Merryweather's right hand, she could be on front of house duty whenever it pleased her to be. Yet there was something in this one's eyes that pleased her.
"For the right price," she said, "I am at your service."
Online resources used
http://rumandmonkey.com/widgets/toys/namegen/14783/
http://rumandmonkey.com/widgets/toys/namegen/14796/
http://pickaface.net/
no subject
Date: 2011-10-05 05:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-05 05:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-06 05:19 am (UTC)I love it that she's both Melissa and Reed. :D Tricky :D Love smart women! :D
BTW why do I have a feeling this man knows about her scheme? He just seems interesting and Melisandre thought so too... So... Does he? :D
no subject
Date: 2011-10-06 07:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-07 11:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-06 10:04 pm (UTC)I like the idea that one of her motivations in setting herself up in the brothel is to prove that she doesn't drive men celibate. :D
She's probably assured of meeting Tyrion one of these days, isn't she?
no subject
Date: 2011-10-07 12:39 pm (UTC)Tyrion would be her dream customer - tips well, chance of a noble seal of approval - or possibly Pris's Tyronicus, who'd discover her secret, but would probably think it amusing and not tell anyone.