Alasdair Locke

Ruling Lord of Oldcastle

[alasdairlocke]

isolda-brax‌:

“See? You just proved my point.” She chuckled before looking over at Alasdair once more. He really was handsome, there was no doubting that. She was not sure of his intentions but he was a fine person to spend time with. “It is how I made most of my money. Though there are a few who do want to hear that. One of my girls specializes in that. She does not see as many people as others but she makes more. It is something she wanted to do and we both have benefited from it. Though it is good to know you are not one to waste your money on things that you do not need to.”

“I never tried to disprove it.” He grinned. “You and I are both far too intelligent to trust anyone’s word. Though I suspect you have more skill reading body language than I have.” And that was a skill he was proud of. While keeping up his image of the laughing joker, Alasdair’s blue hawk-like eyes could catch the slightest twitch of the mouth or tilt of the head that betrayed someone’s true thoughts. “I wouldn’t say that. I have been known to make a few drunken purchases that I’ve ended up regretting. The gown for my sister that I accidentally bought two sizes larger. She took that as a rather serious insult.” He rubbed the back of his head, where his auburn locks hid the scar from the vase she had thrown at his head in response.

[alasdairlocke]

stvrmbringers‌:

She hadn’t meant to end up in this man’s room, she’d been hoping to catch Lord Rickard Stark, her need to find out a little bit of her friends future husband put more curiosity in her. “Ah lucky I’m not a child then. Imagine if it had been a small one who’d entered the room.” Perhaps that would be a better excuse than the one she held now. “I was looking for someone else sadly. As much as my company would be much preferable to being alone.” 

“Luckily there aren’t many children roaming the halls unsupervised at this hour.” Any parent who wasn’t watching their child like a hawk in times like this didn’t deserve to be a parent. Alasdair had made certain that his nieces and nephews had guards with them at all times, and for once his sister didn’t disagree. “Who were you looking for?”

[alasdairlocke]

howlingwilderncss‌:

“pity. i could have used something to admire.” mei drawled, glancing over at him — unashamed in how she ogled. a delicate tinker of laughter followed: amused despite her best interests. she didn’t answer his question, nor did she sit down. instead, her gaze stayed flickering around his rooms, hands idly brushing over a particular trinket: before picking it up and fiddling with it idly.

a heavy sigh broke past mei’s lips and she glanced over to him. “since you’re so intent on talking business…” she shrugged carefully. “there is a particular lord i need introducing too. i believe he is a vassal lord sworn to your house?”

Alasdair didn’t mind being ogled; in fact he welcomed it. He was aware of his good looks, but was not vain to the extent that he shied away from situations that might affect his appearance. There were too many occasions where he had returned home covered in mud, blood and sweat for him to be concerned about that.

“And you wish to use me to make that connection.” It was a statement, not a question. Alasdair half-reclined on the bed, leaning on one arm to prop himself up. “And for what purpose do you need this introduction?”

[alasdairlocke]

greeneyedreed‌:

Ascar had been trying to find his brother’s quarters, as childish as is was he just wanted to feel safe with his brother after the Maester released him. His head was heavily bandaged, his arm in a sling and his eyes had large purple bags under them; but the mental and physical fatigue of his vision was even greater than he’d thought. So much so he’d ended up knocking on the wrong door and was slumped against the frame when the Lord within answered, clearly dressed for bed. “O-oh,” he blearily blinked up at the man, had they met before? “I’m sorry, I just…” he closed his eyes a moment, “I was looking for Lord Reed’s chambers.” he said quietly.

He looked familiar, but it was hard for Alasdair to place him. The bandages and bruises did a lot to disguise him until Alasdair suddenly snapped his fingers. “Now I remember! You’re the one with the flute.” They had met briefly once when Alasdair had interrupted his music practice. “So what happened, did you trip down the stairs or something?” Those old steps had been worn smooth by the years of feet walking them, and even though he felt as sure-footed as a mountain goat, even Alasdair struggled to keep his footing.

[alasdairlocke]

what age do you want for your wc? xx

She should be younger than Alasdair, who’s 34, so anything between 24-32 is cool!

[alasdairlocke]

isolda-brax‌:

“Accents can be faked. You would be surprised how often people have one accent but say they are from another place. I am taking you at your word and your accent does support your statement. If you are lying, you are very good at it.” She chuckled before letting her eyes move over him for just a moment. “I do say it to many of them. But I rarely say it when there is not money involved. Either for my girls or myself.”

“I mix truth and lies together so often that no one ever really knows if they can trust what I’m saying or not.” He said with a wink. “Makes things more fun.” It also helped to keep him covered from deception or betrayal, although anyone who truly knew Alasdair knew his weakness was a beautiful woman with a sharp tongue and fire in her eyes. “I expect there are many men who would pay to hear that they are not repulsive. Fortunately the gods blessed me enough that I don’t need to waste money on compliments.”

[alasdairlocke]

lordsrickard‌:

“I’m surprised you do.” He rolled his eyes but there was a hint of a smile on his face, “Sadly I don’t offer that kind of companionship.” He hadn’t been able to speak with Alasdair yet, he’d arrived not to long ago and he’d tried to make time to meet with all of the Northern Lords who ended up here. “I do apologize for the late visit, I just wanted to ask your thoughts.”

“Are you implying that I get naked at the earliest opportunity?” Alasdair grinned. It wasn’t an entirely inaccurate accusation. But he waved the lord in with a casual gesture of his scar-flecked hand and closed the door behind them. “It’s fine. I doubt I would have gotten much sleep tonight anyway.” He glanced towards his bed, knowing the assortment of weapons he had hidden underneath in case of an attack in the night. “My thoughts on what specifically?”

[makomoriz]

[always-a-pleasure]

[tindysgifs]

[alasdairlocke]

isolda-brax‌:

“Pleasure,” she said with a smile. She gave a quick glance around the room, happy to see no sign that she needed to leave. “So, Alasdair Locke…where is it that you are from? I do not recognize you and I always remember the handsome ones.” She smirked before sitting down, never letting her persona drop. “And there are very few who live here who have not come to see me.” 

“Does my accent not make it clear?” He chuckled. “The North. Oldcastle to be specific.” It was information that was obvious when accompanied with his name, and he did not intend to let flattery trick him into revealing any information that might be used against him. In the aftermath of a murder, such a thing was foolish. “Handsome am I? You must say that to all the men. It’s just fortunate that this time it’s true.”

[alasdairlocke]

howlingwilderncss‌:

“depends on the type of visit.” mei drawled, brows arching as she glanced over the redheaded lord. ( men weren’t usually where she kept her eye. it was really only of sheer necessity she even associated with them — her past dalliances proving all the more why they deserved to be wiped from the seven kingdoms. then again, she’d met her fair share of horrible, cunning women, too. maybe humanity in general was doomed and the gods were waiting for the right moment to curse them down. )

slipping inside, she glanced around the room, bored expression overtaking her face. it was like so many other rooms belonging to lords — a little messy, opulent and more space than any one person could know what to do with. “and you’re lucky i care little for your state of undress. but, by all means — if being trouser-less would make you more comfortable. do not let my presence stop you.”

“I suppose it does.” He closed the door behind her and leaned against it, eyeing her with an expression of bemusement. The reason for her visit was still unclear and he could only assume she would soon bring the reason to light herself soon enough.

“I think the trousers can remain on for now.” He chuckled and took a seat on the edge of his bed, a wave of his hand at the other chairs in the room a silent suggestion for her to sit if she wished to. “Now, was there something in particular you needed me for, or is this simply a late night social call?”

[alasdairlocke]

of-retience‌:

His first comment gave Nyssa pause. That was it? All the highborn had done to earn this response was be a good man? The blonde had know many of those in her time – Men simply trying to get back to families, murdered in the name of entertainment… People hadn’t mourn them; people cheered. “Many good men fall in the streets every day, I don’t see their deaths grieved so vigorously.” She replied, attempting to keep the bite that would have laced her words at bay. This man was a noble after all, it would not do her well to besmirch of one to another. “Ah, and is that how you see yourself, my Lord? As a liberator of woman from lesser men.” Of course he would, these noblemen all fancied themselves God’s gift; as if they weren’t simply one of many – Still, Nyssa would play along, if only because it was better than trying a failing not to speak ill of the dead. “I can imagine many a maiden fair have fought for your favour.”

“Because the world is full of injustice. Good people die every day, but some are mourned while others are not. Not everyone feels loss the same way.” A person’s death could be seen as a tragedy worth weeping over or a celebration deserving of a raucous party - it depended upon a person’s relationship to the deceased. “I wouldn’t call myself a liberator, just an honest man. It is not to everyone’s tastes.” He’d had a fair number of women swoon over him, but Alasdair’s own tastes were for the women who could hold their own. He liked a sharp tongue and a will of steel over a simpering doe-eyed beauty, but that was probably due to his Northern roots. He was not the only man from the North who preferred a woman forged in flames. “Well now you’re just trying to flatter me.”

[alasdairlocke]

captainmarden‌:

                    “There are other taverns available.” Marden shot back, but she otherwise made no effort to prevent his actions. As little desire as she had to spend any extended amount of time with the Locke, she also had few reasons to protest. Although, if he gave her some more then she wouldn’t complain. It might even make her evening a little more interesting - break up the dull monotony that had been drinking and attempting to ignore the pitiful wails of those who pretended to be so effected by the deaths of men they hardly knew.

                    “Yet you’re still talking.” Her tone was one of boredom as she tilted her head back, opening her mouth to catch the last few droplets of her ale before practically slamming the bottle down onto the table. Catching the attention of a nearby barmaid, the drink was soon replaced, and Marden’s gaze lingered on the woman’s retreating form for far longer than what was considered ‘proper’ before returning her attention to her second ale of the evening.

“None with ale as good.” He quipped back. One of his first orders of business upon arriving in the capital had been to work out which taverns were worth frequenting, and he’d sampled the drinks on offer in almost every establishment in the city. This one had the best ale, buts its proximity to the keep meant that it was often crowded. But people could be entertaining.

He rolled his eyes at the unnecessary force she used to slam her bottle down, but caught sight of her gaze lingering on the barmaid’s retreating form. He knew that look. He’d leered after the woman himself until someone had pointed out her behemoth of a husband behind the bar. “I wouldn’t risk it. She’s happily married and her husband doesn’t take kindly to people eyeing up his wife.”

[alasdairlocke]

isolda-brax‌:

The man in front of him was much more attractive than Lord Richard. With all the confusion, it would not be hard for her to say that she had not been able to get into the Keep from her place in King’s Landing. She thought about it for a moment before smiling. “I think he could wait for a little while.” She took a step into the room, smile still on her face. This was a turn of events that could be something good or bad. Ask her again in a few hours. “I am Isolda Brax,” she said, holding her hand out. “And you are?” 

Alasdair raised one copper eyebrow at her decision to keep Lord Richard waiting, and the corner of his mouth quirked upwards in a half-smile. “I’m sure he’ll be terribly disappointed. But his loss is my gain.” She was certainly a prettier distraction than he had been expecting. At the very least he could just enjoy talking to her. He took her hand into his and his grin widened. “Alasdair Locke.”

[alasdairlocke]

isolda-brax‌:

Isolda had been called to the rooms of one of the regulars of the brothel. Trouble was, the directions he had given were not the best. And with the castle on high alert, she knew she had to find him quickly. She knocked on the door that she thought was correct and couldn’t help but smile at the sight. “Well…you were not who I was expected. I apologize, sir. Do you happen to know where Lord Richard’s rooms are?” 

A simple wrong room misunderstanding. It was a shame, since he had been hoping for a distraction. Not from the threat lurking inside the castle since he had been prepared and on guard for that since day one, but a distraction from thinking about Morwenna. Each of these deaths was more gruesome than the last, and they all brought back the memories of his sister dying in his arms. “Lord Richard is down the hall and to the left.” His usual jovial attitude hid any trace of the inner torment he was trying to suppress. “Why, am I not good enough company?”

[cliffpantones]