Post by LORD VARYS on May 21, 2019 18:52:57 GMT
LORD VARYS
GENERAL INFO
NAME: Varys
OTHER ALIASES: The Spider, Master of Whispers, The Eunuch
AGE: no definitive age
GENDER: male
BIRTH PLACE: Lys
CURRENT LOCATION: Winterfell
OCCUPATION/TITLE: Master of Whispers
ALLEGIANCE: Daenerys Targaryen
FACE CLAIM: Conleth Hill
THE STORY
✖ You are born a slave-- you have nothing and you are nothing. You are sold, which is to be expected, but this time, something's wrong. Your new master hands you a strange liquid and orders you to drink it. Well practiced in the art of obedience, you let the liquid trickle down your throat and it begins to paralyze you. You can't move, nor can you speak, but you can feel every bit of the castration-- a level of pain you have never previously experienced. You barely manage to remain conscious as you're thrown out onto the street, weak and alone. You have become the victim of Black Magic and you will hate the thought of it for the rest of your life. Being an Eunuch is far from the only feminine quality about you. Your demeanor is gentle and you walk with grace. Your hands are soft, despite your place in the lowest of social class. With time, your hands become sticky and you learn stealth. You are feminine and you know how to take care of yourself. You are a master thief.
✖ Master of Whisperers You learn that stealing information is far more useful than stealing materials. You build yourself up from dirt, cunning and manipulative to those around you using false identities. Your name becomes well-known, and although people know not to trust you, they cannot avoid falling victim to your disguised charm. Your growth as a man revolves around deceit, and eventually your skills are recognized. You are no longer nothing. You are a member of the Small Council for the Mad King.The king is dead, but you aren't going anywhere. Robert Baratheon allows you to keep your position, and you are untouchable. Your appearance only works to your benefit, earning you snickers and underestimation. You are capable of more than people think and you are happy to keep that to yourself. Your reputation is nothing to you. All that matters is serving the realm, no matter what the cost.
✖ The Spider Alone, you are capable of acquiring any knowledge. With aid, you are capable of such much more quickly. You are a spider-- master of webs-- and your webs are everywhere. You have created an extensive network of spies from which no man can escape, and you are as powerful as ever with accordance to your own definition of the word. Your little birds have a wingspan reaching from Westeros to Essos, making no distance too great for your ears to reach. You protect your birds in exchange for their secrets, seeing each of them as a reflection of your own origin. They come from nothing, and you raise them from the ground.
✖ The Imp Kings are dropping like flies but you remain intact, for no man can fill your position as well as you. You continue to serve King Joffrey though you are more interested in his Hand. Your first impression of the Imp is no better than anyone else's, but it isn't his size that irks you. He stands before you with arrogance and responds with hostility when you provide him with the truth-- you are aware that he is hiding a whore. The warning alone is more than you are accustomed to providing, and he still responds with a threat. The threat means nothing to you-- you are not disposable, and you are not afraid. But Tyrion is an intelligent man, something you admire. He proves this intelligence in presenting a plan to identify who is spying for Cersei. Together, you manage to out and rid of Pycelle, and you must admit that you are impressed. A large mind sits in a small man, and he has gained your respect. You continue to work with the man and the fondness you develop toward him has you blind-sighted. Credit has never mattered to you, though you feel irritated when Tyrion is robbed of it. He has won the Battle of the Blackwater, and you inform him that in lieu of reward, he has been stripped of his position on the Small Council. You have seldom felt such empathy for another man.But you are still a man of self-preservation-- a man of intelligence-- not a man of loyalty. You try to help your friend to the best of your ability but Joffrey has been killed, and Tyrion is being tried. You testify against him-- your only weapon is information and the information you have acquired is incriminating. What you believe does not matter-- what matters is the argument you are able to provide. You may be useless during the trial, but you later help to free your friend and send him off to Essos. You intend to say goodbye, but your decision is made in an instant. You are going to Essos.
✖ Mother of Dragons You convince Tyrion to go with you to Meereen because Daenerys Targaryen is the only hope for their crumbling world. You lose track of the little man, but your little birds remain everywhere, and you meet him again in Meereen, a smug visage on your face. You seek out the Sons of the Harpy with Tyrion, but are surprised to find that they have destroyed Daenerys's ships. You eventually organize a meeting of the Masters, and a pact is made. This helps to stabilize your wild surroundings, but it is not enough. You seek out the Red High Priestess, despite your hesitance. You do not respect her ramblings, but she mocks you and dismisses your skepticism. You dislike her, but she has agreed to support Daenerys, so you are satisfied. You return to Westeros to find support, and soon you find yourself in the presence of the Mother of Dragons. You assert that your allegiance is with her, and you stand tall as she sails back to Westeros. A new war is about to begin, and you ready yourself for chaos to unfold.
THE WRITER
NAME: Jem
TIME ZONE: GMT-5:00
AGE: 24
PRONOUNS: she|her(s)
