Post by King William Leverich II on Mar 24, 2012 13:19:03 GMT -5
King William Leverich II
" Lord, Christ, have mercy on our souls."
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Player Name: Gabby
Years Roleplaying: Three years in general, just six months forum RP though
Gender: Female
Contact me: PM
Anything else?: Hopefully I won't fuck this up too bad, even though I haven't a clue about Phantom. Er, Leffs, request to write in current-time?
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Basic Information
Age: Died at age 45 on the 23 of May, 1521
Canon or OC?: OC ghost (taken from OC guide)[/size]
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Appearance
Body type: One might say that William is one hundred percent average. He’s right at average height to weight and though not terribly skinny, isn’t anything close to fat. He is very tall, of course, taller than most, but one wouldn’t describe him as a giant. Being a king, he does hold the reasonability of walking… kingly. But after a few centuries, well, one must relax somewhat, so he’s only slightly stiff.
Eye color: Blue, very blue.
Wardrobe: Posh, very posh. He is a king, after all. However he doesn’t like to wear things like robes and all that malarkey. No, he looks formal, but not… dressy. He wears button downs and suits and things. Sometimes when he’s feeling particularly lazy he might wear a t-shirt and jeans, but it’s not entirely often; most people who’ve ever know him have really only seen him in buttons downs.
General Appearance: William is tall, and kindly, and looks his age. He’s Caucasian, but not exactly pale; his skin’s slightly sun-browned. He’s medium-length hair, dark brown and wavy, though sometimes he grows it out just slightly.
Played By: Hugh Grant
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Personality
He’s trusting, which can be a bit of a weakness, but in his mind, everyone is good until they’ve done something bad. In turn, he’s also very forgiving. He’s not stupid – he knows people aren’t all good – but he doesn’t like to believe that people can’t be redeemed. He’s a funny chap: he likes to joke around. His casualness is another one of his not-so-kingly features. He lets people close to him call him Will, and doesn’t care what anyone’s social standing in. As long as they’re kind people, he wants to make friends with them. He might be described as slightly shallow, or oblivious, but that’s not quite true. He knows all about the suffering of the world, and though he’s suffered some himself too, he’s really never let that get him down.
He can play keyboard quite well, and sing to, though he mostly just hums to himself when he’s bored. He’s pretty awkward with kids, though it’s not like they don’t like him. He loved animals, and always has a bunny or bird or some other animal he’s rescued of the streets on the verge of death as a pet. He’s a bit eccentric really, sometimes to the point of being hyperactive, and his cheeriness is good at ticking people off. But he likes to do things, and can’t stand sitting still for long periods of time. He was good at work, when he was king, but he far from liked it. Sometimes he starts to become depressed with his situation, can’t stand that fact that he might never move on, but he’s optimistic enough that those moods never last all that long.
Dreams and Goals: He wants to know what’s keeping him here still, yes, but he’s not exactly looking for it. Subconsciously, he’s afraid of what there might be.
Strengths: Quite musical, very generous, generally amiable, optimistic, intelligent and a quick thinker.
Weaknesses: Sometimes doesn’t take things seriously enough, far too easily trusting for royalty, easily tricked, can’t swim.
Fears: The fact that he doesn’t have the ability to sleep, large bodies of water (for fear of drowning, not the water itself), sheep (he doesn’t know why, they’re just strange!).
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The Past
History: He was born to William Leverich I and Margaret Elizabeth on March 24, 1496. As the only successor to the throne, there were a number of threats to his life as a child. However all were adverted without his knowledge, and he grew up well, Roman Catholic and intelligent. The troubles of Europe passed him by, hidden from him under his father’s will to protect him, and he became greatly disturbed when he saw as a teenager what the world actually held. He felt the strong need to give charity, and became known as William the Charitable at one point, as a joke. He was coroneted as king at age twenty-three in 1519 when his mother died of fever (his father died the year before during a raid). Though he was saddened by the death of both of his parents, he took up duty as king with honor and ruled famously.
Unfortunately, his trusting character allowed one man to get too close: Marcus William Lemmings. Marcus was his chief advisor, and around the same age as William, give or take a few years. The two were very close friends, the closest, William thought, until one day, he found himself being betrayed and killed by the very same man on 23 May, 1541. Having never married and no siblings to take over the throne, power went to his cousin, James Masters III. James had ultimately convinced Marcus that he would make a better king than William and had bribed the advisor with the promise of riches. Marcus had gone along with the plan and thus, William’s death.
RP Sample
They’re alone, like they always are. Standing in the chapel, above the entire castle, just looking out at the sun set across the land. The bright rays shine through the glass walls, pushed together with perfect architecture and forming a tall, thin prism. William has a hand on the glass, not caring about smudging it.
“Another day’s gotten away from us, old friend,” he says softly. He looks to Marcus, tracing his advisor’s face with lines in his head. “It’s funny how it happens so quickly.”
“Hmm,” Marcus hums in agreement. William chuckles; he knows Marcus has never been one for words, not particularly. “It’s funny, you know? That we have the same name.”
William looks up, wondering what Marcus is on about. “Sorry? I suppose so, yes.” He smiles, “Why do you say that?”
“We’re all the same in the end, you know,” Marcus continues, and the look on his face is something William’s not seen before. It’s worried, troubled… darker.
“Marcus?” William asks, after a too-long pause. “Is something the matter?”
“We all die in the end,” Marcus elaborates, and William is confused. He knows it’s true, but he’s not sure why Marcus is telling him this now. “We all have the same fate in the end.”
“That’s true,” William concedes, but he is worried where this conversation his heading. “Sorry, but why do you say that? I mean I know it’s true, but…” he trials off, looking at Marcus expectantly.
Marcus sighs, a hard, heavy sigh. “I really thought I’d be spending the rest of my life with you, like this,” he says, ignoring William’s question and raising several more.
“Well, aren’t you?” William asks, concerned now. “You’re not leaving, are you?”
Marcus gives a sad smile, a grimace, and then suddenly everything’s moving so quickly, and there’s a knife in his chest where his heart should be, and Marcus is saying, “No, but you are. I’m sorry, but it’s for the best. My family needs this.”
William feels his whole body shaking with fear and physical hurt and the sting of betrayal. “Marcus, what…?” He tries to gasp out, and he can feeling the sharp metallic taste of blood on his lips.
“Go to sleep,” Marcus says softly, and his smile scares William. He thought he knew this smile, this man, and even when turning himself into a murderer, his advisor is being assuring. It makes him terrified of what’s to come, if sometime so unsuspected can happen in seconds.
“I can’t die, not yet,” William murmurs, but already darkness is closing in on him and he knows he’s going to die. He almost refuses to believe that it’s because of the man who’s cradling him so gently in his arms. “I can’t go yet.”
And then he’s gone.
And then he’s back again.
“Another day’s gotten away from us, old friend,” he says softly. He looks to Marcus, tracing his advisor’s face with lines in his head. “It’s funny how it happens so quickly.”
“Hmm,” Marcus hums in agreement. William chuckles; he knows Marcus has never been one for words, not particularly. “It’s funny, you know? That we have the same name.”
William looks up, wondering what Marcus is on about. “Sorry? I suppose so, yes.” He smiles, “Why do you say that?”
“We’re all the same in the end, you know,” Marcus continues, and the look on his face is something William’s not seen before. It’s worried, troubled… darker.
“Marcus?” William asks, after a too-long pause. “Is something the matter?”
“We all die in the end,” Marcus elaborates, and William is confused. He knows it’s true, but he’s not sure why Marcus is telling him this now. “We all have the same fate in the end.”
“That’s true,” William concedes, but he is worried where this conversation his heading. “Sorry, but why do you say that? I mean I know it’s true, but…” he trials off, looking at Marcus expectantly.
Marcus sighs, a hard, heavy sigh. “I really thought I’d be spending the rest of my life with you, like this,” he says, ignoring William’s question and raising several more.
“Well, aren’t you?” William asks, concerned now. “You’re not leaving, are you?”
Marcus gives a sad smile, a grimace, and then suddenly everything’s moving so quickly, and there’s a knife in his chest where his heart should be, and Marcus is saying, “No, but you are. I’m sorry, but it’s for the best. My family needs this.”
William feels his whole body shaking with fear and physical hurt and the sting of betrayal. “Marcus, what…?” He tries to gasp out, and he can feeling the sharp metallic taste of blood on his lips.
“Go to sleep,” Marcus says softly, and his smile scares William. He thought he knew this smile, this man, and even when turning himself into a murderer, his advisor is being assuring. It makes him terrified of what’s to come, if sometime so unsuspected can happen in seconds.
“I can’t die, not yet,” William murmurs, but already darkness is closing in on him and he knows he’s going to die. He almost refuses to believe that it’s because of the man who’s cradling him so gently in his arms. “I can’t go yet.”
And then he’s gone.
And then he’s back again.
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