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 [PREMADE] Franklyn Flowers

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annabell



Posts : 22
Join date : 2013-01-06

PostSubject: [PREMADE] Franklyn Flowers   Wed Jan 09, 2013 8:13 am


An Eye for an Eye…


Name:
Franklyn Flowers

Nickname:
The Brown Apple
The Bastard of Cider Hall

Age:
26

Gender:
Male

Species:
Human

Allegiance to House:
House Tyrell (only by birth)
Golden Company (later in life)

Role to House:
Brothel Guard

Personality:
Franklyn Flowers better known as the Bastard of Cider Hall or the Brown Apple indeed hones up to his stained reputation for beneath the apish appearance goes a man with a temper most foul and a mind set on revenge towards his mother’s misfortunes. Franklyn is a man with a lot of bottled up anger and resentment towards the lordship of Cider Hall who can be certain of sarcastic remarks and demeaning gestures towards them. This hatred for the Red Apples of Fossoway is an all consuming fire fueled inside of him devouring his every thought and believes. That anger gets expressed with harsh actions towards any soul unfortunate to cross his path on unfortunate terms; in the Cider Hall brothel this generally goes for the patrons who don’t pay for services received or lay hands on the girls in an inacceptable manner. Physical violence defined by his preference to inflict gruesome pain over death are his main tools of dealing with issues though discretion does prove to be a strong ally in his skill set. Franklyn is a man who prefers handling matters silently and behind closed door to ensure to harm comes to his mistress and employer who brought forth another side to the Bastard of Cider Hall. The Brown Apple shows a remarkable kindness and protectiveness towards women especially the brothel workers and courtesans from Cider Hall who enjoy his fierce protection…

Physical Description:
One can’t deny Franklyn Flowers relation to the red apples of Fossoway as he bears their striking resembles; built robustly with broad shoulders, modest posture and wavy long chestnut hair Franklyn might as well be the spitting image of the late Ser Bryan Fossoway, fallen hero at the Battle of Blackwater Bay. With a subtle olive skin complexion and a natural tan from working outdoors on different occasions some might even call Franklyn a handsome lad who’s guised by a heavy brow and the combination of the chin strip and mustache facial hair. He’s a well-groomed man who’s appearance fits the environment he roams night and day standing guard at the prestigious Cider Hall brothel. Dark hazel brown eyes and peculiar scars seen from underneath his shirt up to his neck lend the Bastard of Cider Hall a rather mysterious intriguing appearance that extends in his preference in wardrobe; blacked boiled leather detailed with crimson silks make for his daily choice in clothing yet the quality is rather surprising for a man of his lowly standard. Red in the Reach is viewed as a rich man’s colors for the dye is most expensive and reserved only to high nobles who can afford such luxuries; still Franklyn wakes up and goes dressed in that black and crimson uniform his mistress had ordered made for him…

Powers and Abilities:
With a questionable youth, it comes to little surprise that Franklyn mastered several dubious traits and talents more often found in thieves than in guards; from a young age the Brown Apple begun to fiddle with locks and vaults quickly discovering the secret to how pins and counterweights inside those mechanisms operate. By the age of ten there wasn’t a door in Cider Hall to be found that didn’t yield to his talent with picks and needles to pry open locks without leaving a distinct mark behind. His days working for a local butcher also taught him about anatomy granting him a rare insight in how a body functions but most of all how to inflict the most harm without killing or permanently marking a person in a visible manner. He knows where the nerves come together beneath the skin and where bones are most fragile to fractures and such knowledge comes in handy for a man in his profession. For a human he can be remarkably stealthy, sticking close to the shadows and going unnoticed through the masses until the moment to strike is most opportune…

Strengths:
• Fighting: thuggish brawler
• Stealthy & Thievery
• Protection

Weaknesses:
• Women
• Human Kindness
• Red Apples of Fossoway

Weapons of Choice:
Bloodbane is the name of Franklyn’s sword, a crude improvised weapon bought from a traveling merchant passing through Cider Hall. The slender blade only two and a half inches in width though 46 inches in length is designed in the popular Estoc fashion both edges sharpened and the guard oversized for optimal hand protection. Carved from a solid block of bronze the handle is rather detailed in design with a spiraling grip similar to serpent scales to welcome his hand while a broad symmetrical guard blocks accidental blows towards the hand. The pommel is a crude hexagon cylinder out of solid bronze with blunted edges and a small pike extension for heavy blows that inflict a maximum pain while doing minimum damage. Franklyn once bought this sword for a handful of silver though for such a price the quality of the steel is questionable; along the blade though some stains are shown on the surface of the sword where the polish broke…

Armor of Choice:
Underneath his uniform Franklyn goes guarded by a crude chainmail vest constructed out of three layers of tightly strung rivets. It’s a basic luxury found in the wardrobe of the common sellsword of Westeros so there’s little worth mentioning about this armor. On the other hand the set of vambraces he wears is worth a second glance; lavishly decorated steel with a flowery design guard his wrists yet this splendor is hidden beneath his thick leather gloves. These trinkets were a gift from his mistress for a past debt she owed him…

Background History:
Two Years Ago…

The Cider Hall brothel was a popular place just outside of the town where a lavish slice of paradise remained in these dark times; the girls walked around in promiscuous dresses that left little to the imagination while feeling flattered by the crude unmannered comments from patrons of this establishment. The teasing slaps to their rears were often answered with tempting giggles aimed to lure their amorous suitors to their chambers whereas bold kisses are what make these men spend vast fortunes on a girl’s touch. Franklyn however walked these paths for a different purpose than the common guest present here on this sunny summer day for the Bastard of Cider Hall merely continued his years’ tradition: visiting his mother. Working as a washerwoman for the brothel ensuring that sheets and towels of this establishment were always crisp clean, Harriett Flowers was a lowly maid who’s beauty faded in comparison to the girls working the clients here. Her slender figure and narrow face hinted towards her former attractiveness though since the day of Franklyn’s conception she never liked the idea of being appealing for men. His steps blindly guided him through the marble corridors, past the gallery where nude portraits of brothel girls hung on display until Franklyn found the hideaway door leading to the basement. Like always he found his mother standing there bend over the wooden barrels filled with warm rose scented water doing the linens and bedding just like his bastard of a father had done. If his mother’s tale of woe was true Ser Bryan Fossoway had come down those steps two decades ago when his mother was working, pinned her down and raped her till blood and seed were spilled; as a further reminder of the physical abuse that man had brought upon her Harriett found herself with child; nine months later Franklyn Flowers was born and Harriet became the mother to the Brown Apple…

After the monthly visit to his mother, the pleasantries of nonsense conversation being exchanged between parent and child, Franklyn decided like always to linger in the brothel a few more hours; never to touch but always to watch the Bastard of Cider Hall found himself a seat on the white oaken bench in the gardens. He liked it here in the gardens where ponds and lavish flower beds seemed to sooth his often troubled mind; Franklyn lately felt his anger taking control making him fear that the next time he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back from killing the man who’d raped his mother. Every day he worked in the butcher shop in Cider Hall with a heavy cleaver in hand chopping the meat for the man who’d raped his mother who personally came to insult him every day when collecting his order. Every day he’d be reminded of being a bastard and there was nothing he could to that wouldn’t bring shame and embarrassment to his mother. As he sat there on that bench, the sun falling like a warm kiss upon his face as the wind caressed his skin, Franklyn could find his calm again. Then his peace was disturbed by a scream of distress coming from the gazebos, a woman in need of help calling out yet none of the other men present bothered to pay attention. Franklyn ran as fast as his legs could carry him, Bloodbane drawn and ready when he found two Fossoway guards pin down a blond brothel worker dressed in a refined pinkish gown. He’d seen this before, guards raping the brothel girls knowing they’d have nobody to listen to their pleas and just like that the Brown Apple was given the opportunity to exert some vengeance. The crude steel dug deep into the first’s neck before carving a path through the cuirass of the second in the deathly ballad of sword versus flesh. Franklyn showed not a second of hesitation in killing these guards, not a moment of remorse when he spilled their blood to save a lowly brothel worker from the gruesome offense of rape…

The Present…

Franklyn sat on a white oaken bench outside the Cider Hall Brothel, the flowers fading in color as trees begun to shed their leaves to triumph over the coming winter; the winds had gone colder in the past couple of days and patrons of the establishment became getting dressed in pelts and furs to shelter them from the frigid breeze. The Bastard of Cider Hall didn’t mind the cold though, his uniform proudly worn as ever when he heard the clicking of heels across the white gravel paths that wandered through these gardens. Light like a whisper could he hear this person approaching though the mere absence of weight to the step spoke to Franklyn of a woman, not a man moving towards him. “Still looking over these gardens like you did two years ago? What lady in distress will you save this time Franklyn? What woman will now extend that excuse you so desperately want to take another life?” That voice that greeted him was all too familiar to the man for when he turned around, Franklyn laid eyes on that same blonde woman he saved two years ago; not the same girl though, that much he knew now for in the past years he’d seen this lowly brothel worker climb the hierarchy in this establishment faster than anyone. In a month after that day she’d become one of the most desired courtesans of Cider Hall, men traveling from remote corners of Westeros to visit that haven residing between her legs; Franklyn had watched her grow and blossom when just a couple of months ago she took over control of the brothel and became Madam. The next day she’d come to Franklyn requesting him to watch over her girls like he’d done for her in those two years past and he’d not braved to refuse her offer. Guard of the Cider Hall Brothel. The mere notion of that title brought a smile to his face but then again it might just be the hand the Madam had laid in his lap. “So tell me my love, how fare our girls here today? Have they made us rich again so that I can reward you?” And with those words she’d unhooked the coin purse from his belt and sudden her head in his lap to repay him for the day’s work he’d put in this establishment. Franklyn didn’t desire money for his services only that treasure that men paid fortunes for having for a single night; his head fell backwards when he felt those lips around him as another day of work in Cider Hall was about to come to an end with a happy ending…

Additional Pics:




…A Tooth for a Tooth


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