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House: tully
Blood Status: highborn
Mini Icon: https://i.imgur.com/cXyoWgC.png
Nickname: scalebane
Age: 25
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Plotter: http://realmoftheseven.jcink.net/index.php?showtopic=411
Profile: http://realmoftheseven.jcink.net/index.php?showtopic=293
Occupation: lord
OOC Name: kvas
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Joined: 2-October 17
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Last Seen: Dec 4 2017, 09:42 PM
Local Time: Jan 21 2018, 08:15 AM
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Aimeric Tully

Riverlands

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Nov 9 2017, 10:41 PM
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family. duty. honor.
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Some hours had passed since the aftermath of the council meeting. Aimeric had tried all manner of things to get his mind off the event: drinking, letter-writing, pacing … but the mere look of a cup of wine made a noxious flutter pass through his stomach. So he moved onto ale, and ended up wholly drunk for his effort, and yet that did not settle him. When he put in his attempts to write with a sheaf of parchment, he found that he had nothing to say. His father would know of what had happened soon enough, as would all of the realms, and Aimeric had little motivation to console or conspire or do much of anything at all. <p>
So he settled on pacing, fitfully passing between throes of mournful regret (<i>and how I did nothing but stand there! Fool, blithering fool!</i>) and drunken musings, wandering through the Red Keep like a very limping and impotent shadow. He must have been a bit more intoxicated than he'd realized, for he caught a strange lingering scent of familiar perfume, and he remembered how he'd numbly gathered up sobbing Sybelle Arryn into his arms while the dying king gave out his last breaths. Was she close, or was he simply lonely and inebriate? <p>
Someone tapped his shoulder. Aimeric whirled around, blinking in shock, only to be faced with a young and slightly nervous looking young woman. Her face had a vague familiarity, and Aimeric recalled an earlier night, where he might've caught a view of her in profile, dancing in the warm yellow light of a tavern. <p>
<b>“Lady Arryn would like to request your presence, my lord.”</b> She handed him a small folded note, which smelled strongly of her lady's perfume.<p>
<b>“Is that so?”</b> Aimeric shook his head, smiling wearily. <b>“Perhaps I overstepped, in my actions. I wasn't thinking … how bold, I must have appeared, and how crude.”</b><p>
The girl raised an eyebrow at him. <b>“My lady did not seem angry with you, Lord Tully. In fact, I may like to imply the opposite, if I may borrow some of your boldness.”</b><p>
Aimeric laughed, but recovered enough of himself to at least tsk a bit teasingly at the handmaid. <b>“Don't encourage me. I'm a scoundrel, honestly.”</b> He popped the seal on the note, gasping. <b>“Oh, that is lovely. Isn't her handwriting sublime? And the neat little phrasings, too! What a gift, to rest my eyes on such an elegant bit of writing.”</b><p>
The handmaid couldn't help but laugh at him. Aimeric didn't fault her for that – he would laugh at himself all day, if he didn't have the displeasure of having to conduct himself with a sliver of dignity. And, he was becoming aware, he was so, so drunk. <p>
<b>“I'm glad it pleases you. She rewrote the thing half a dozen times.”</b><p>
<b>“Did she? I'm so flattered, to receive such attention. Yes, I must meet her. Will you tell her that? Ah, I'm so pleased. This is just the thing to distract me from all the void and chaos of brooding on one's mortality, and just when it was growing so tiresome, as well.”</b><p>
<b>“E-excuse me?”</b><p>
<b>“Yes, don't listen to me,”</b> Aimeric said, bowing deeply to the girl. <b>“I will find this sitting room where she waits. Thank you, dear girl. I wish that the rest of your evening is thoroughly enchanting, with sweetness in every hour, and so forth.”</b> He gave her hand a chaste kiss goodbye. <b>“Until we next meet, or until I suppose Sybelle tells you how I've overstepped myself yet again. Good night!”</b> And from there he walked off – partially certain he was able to remember what sitting room Sybelle was referring to. <p>
Eventually he came upon it, and rapped at the door. At first, he wondered if perhaps he'd come upon the wrong room (it wouldn't shock him, to make such a mistake in this condition), until he heard her voice – and he opened the door, stepping in to greet her.
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</div><a href="http://shine.jcink.net/index.php?showuser=8549"><span style="font: bold 8px/20px calibri; opacity: .5; text-align:center;">BY MITZI</span></a></center>

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Oct 22 2017, 07:56 PM
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<center><div class="thealtar">
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family. duty. honor.
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<img src="https://i.imgur.com/UThr6TW.png">
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The courtyard was a green and lush thing. It circled a small lily pond, which hummed and burbled gently against the noise of the evening in a watery murmur. It nearly reminded him of the godswood of Riverrun, sans the glorious frowning weirwood, but it was a sweet garden nonetheless, and offered a pleasing reflection of the setting sky. Aimeric smiled and hummed at the blooms as he passed them, his gait quick and excitable, even despite the slight limp that accompanied him.<p>

He bumbled out to the edge of that mossy pond before realizing he'd come across a man at his lonesome, slumped contemplatively near the water. He'd nearly blended in with the greenery, hunched over like that. Another reveler who had come for fresh air? Maybe. From what little Aimeric could see from under the hood and high collar, they looked somewhat dour.<p>

Not that it stopped Aimeric from chatting, who was nearly off his heels with drink and giddy amusement.<p>

“Oh, dear Seven, I hadn't realized I wasn't alone. Such a fine night, isn't it? Full of fortune and fortuitous circumstance. Interesting people. Ah, hold on - ” Aimeric hefted the half-empty (well, he was being generous with this measurement) bottle of Dornish red to the stranger in offering. “Can I offer you a drink? You ought to take it away from me, really.”
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</div><a href="http://shine.jcink.net/index.php?showuser=8549"><span style="font: bold 8px/20px calibri; opacity: .5; text-align:center;">BY MITZI</span></a></center>

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Oct 15 2017, 03:54 AM
Start a rumor about the character above you! Feel free to pass it on IC for fun if you wish.
Oct 5 2017, 05:47 PM
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The inn was moderately full, and graced with pleasant music. It was even more incongruous, then, when Aimeric spotted a very sullen looking woman in the corner of the room, twisting a handkerchief in her lap while the meal spread across the table went untouched. After a moment's hesitation, Aimeric approached, sitting across from the woman, though he was careful to leave a certain distance between them.<p>

Her clothes were fine blue silk, and at her ear, a half-moon in silver. And despite the frown fixed on her lips, Aimeric couldn't deny that she had a sort of contemplative tenderness, something deeply thoughtful in her eyes that seemed so reflective and sweet. The Arryn girl. What was her name? He knew it was melodic, silvery, lilting, it fit pleasantly on the tongue ...<p>

Aimeric greeted her quietly, extending a hand. He remembered the name when her slender, soft fingers slipped into his, and he gave her hand a brief, chaste kiss. <b>“A delightful surprise, Lady Sybelle Arryn. Are you on your way to the Harvest Feast as well? All the realms are surely blessed that such an enchanting lady such as yourself has left the wings of the Eyrie to visit us … and yet you look so sorrowful. What is it that plagues you?”</b> While his tone was light, there was a softer note of concern in his voice, only somewhat masked by the pleasantry.
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</div><a href="http://shine.jcink.net/index.php?showuser=8549"><span style="font: bold 8px/20px calibri; opacity: .5; text-align:center;">BY MITZI</span></a></center>

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Oct 5 2017, 01:28 AM
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The forest was deep and silent as Aimeric and his two companions rode on. It struck him that the road was surprisingly empty, with naught but the autumnal wind to adjoin them. Though he didn't dislike Ser Hans and his squire, Edwin, they were new to his service and they had little to speak of as they traveled together. Hans was an older man, grey-bearded and sullen, where Edwin was barely out of his boyhood and could hardly lift a sword past his shoulder.<p>

Surely not the most adept of guards, but Aimeric embraced them with respect nonetheless, knowing that their house was rather short on hands as it was, such that the matter of his traveling party was of little consequence.<p>

Aimeric sighed and ran a hand down the mane of his steed, which had begun to sway nervously, its pace becoming somewhat erratic as they approached a particularly wooded stretch of road. <b>“Easy, sweet creature. What troubles you?”</b> he wondered, petting its soft silver coat. It wasn't like his Bitterling to be very anxious. He gave a look to Hans and Edwin, who both seemed to understand something was amiss as they both reached for their blades.<p>

An arrow whistled through the air like the drill of a wasp, sinking neatly into the flesh of Aimeric's side. He felt the pain like a flashing stab as Bitterling reared and shook him from its back, terrified. Aimeric managed to pile off the horse and just barely escape the next arrow, which sailed past his ear, thankfully clear of his head. <i>My dear father's face, when I lose the other eye,</i> Aimeric thought to himself as he backed away into the darker edges of the wood. Hans and Edwin appeared to be confronting their enemies head on – a troupe of bandits, Aimeric understood.<p>

While the man armed with the crossbow fortunately seemed to have lost sight of Aimeric, he was free to fire upon the Tully guardsmen with abandon. Aimeric looked between Hans, the squire, and their fearsome attackers, and it was clear they were no match. The bandits had what looked like half a dozen in their party, and sadly Hans and Edwin were only two, quickly being outpaced upon.<p>

Aimeric hissed and clasped at his wound, which was bleeding rapidly through his tunic and cloak, blooming out from where the shaft of the arrow was sticking neatly out of his side. It wouldn't do to simply lay there and bleed, but his men were going to die for what trifling valuables they held, if nothing happened.<p>

In the corner of Aimeric's eye, he saw a flash of golden hair. Gritting his teeth, he descended deeper into the dark wood, a hand clasped under the arrow so he might not jostle the thing, and called out. The man was almost close – he could see that he was wearing hunting leathers, with some sort of weapon with him, Aimeric hoped.<p>

<b>“Excuse me, whoever you may be. Please, I need your help. There are bandits on the road, my men are in danger,”</b> Aimeric bit out, grimacing as a swell of blood gushed through his gloved fingers. He staggered on his feet, clutching the dark limb of a tree for support. <b>“My house will repay you kindly, stranger, if you would come to our aid.”</b>
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