( firstborn. )

Indie Karl Whitehill from Telltale's Game of Thrones  written by Cassie please read rules before interacting ( sideblog to 'terrarosas' )

[serpentii]

she was quite aware of his presence;  he lingered in the darkness like an unwanted presence. he would whisper DEMON at gryff but she knew better,  karl was no saint. if hell was a person, it was HIM…  she remembered the first time she met him, young and naïve, but the second their hands shook  —  everything about him unfolded in her eyes. he played a dangerous game,   one he would not win in time.   delicate fingers encircled a goblet, lips touched the cool surface before she took a careful sip.

it hardly phased her that karl did not like her.. like father, like son. though, ludd rarely hid it unless he was around her brother or her father. karl was far more calculated in how he acted but it was no secret to her that his dislike of her stemmed from the time she spent with ebbert and torrhen. gryff was the final straw, it seemed;  not that he had ever shown much of a likening to her.

           ❛ hm ? boring me, you say ? only one. ❜

the smile she shared with him was radiant; though,   he’d deserve nothing of her kindness, she still held a modicum of respect for the eldest whitehill. he was better than their lord after all… hazel eyes lifted to matched his evenly, not a flicker of defiance within, merely warm and bright.

    ❛ i quite enjoy the attention, my brother dotes far too     much on me and i can only suffer so much partiality. ❜

[gcldenscaled]

Only one.

A smile she wore ( he hated that fucking SMILE of hers, wanted to tear it from her pretty face ) but words were barbed. She could play games with everyone else, but it was HIM who saw through. HIM who knew something else lay beneath the brightness and the sunshine of her eyes. Was she dark like him? He had yet to discover the Degore’s true intent, but he craved such answers.

Edie annoyed him — though he’d never admit it aloud. Admitting would be a weakness, a hole in his steely, mechanical demeanor. He would not allow her to wiggle though, to pierce him. The armor he wore was as strong as her SMILE.

“Of course you do.”

Of course she enjoyed the attention. She was a woman after all, and wasn’t that what all women desired? The attentions of every man in the room? Ebbert — that frightened rabbit of a boy – was drawn to her kindness. Torrhen had also fallen prey, though Karl’s hold on him would never be shaken. He knew it would not be.

Karl stepped closer to her — he wanted to see those eyes up close. To see if he could catch the lies they held. Edie did not scare easily. She was a Degore after all. Raised to be a Warrior. Not a special woman by any means, but one he could not underestimate.

“This’ll be your home one day. I want to make you feel as comfortable as I can. So if you enjoy my brother’s mindless chatter then I will not keep you from it, but that smile of yours is so pretty. I’d hate to see it tire from such things.”

[poshbogan]

Visit Original Link

Sara Bareilles - Sweet As Whole

But I’m sick and tired of your poisonous ways You’re a toxin wasting perfectly good space And I say what I think ‘Cause it’s more economic than drugs or a drink

[gcldenscaled]

my body reacts to angry harys --- like there’s an alarm going off in my head

YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP !!

[sxmethingtoprxve]

@gcldenscaled - ouch, just very ouch, gryff muse has thrown itself off the cliff, damn karl, very savage, hit exactly where it’d hurt the most

[morethanjustwords-archive]

@gcldenscaled, you’re going to regret pulling that shit. Meet me in the pit, motherfucker, if you have the balls (you don’t though, such a shame they turned grey & fell off). 

[gcldenscaled]

“ how cute --- i may lack balls, but i have more brains than either of you idiots combined ”

[sxmethingtoprxve]

His oldest brother’s voice always tends to send shivers down his spine, making him freeze. He wishes it wouldn’t but he can’t help it, it’s almost become instinct.

He can’t stop being afraid, even with Karl suffering from greyscale, his brother can still terrify him.

Gryff wants to say is this the day Karl dies and Gryff can finally be free of him, but he doesn’t, because he knows what those words would bring.

      “No…what…what day is today?”

He hates that his voice sounds small and weak.

[gcldenscaled]

“You know poor Mother did not die so instantly.”

Karl remembers the day — Ebbert had refused to leave her side, only once Father had forced him out of the room. Torrhen was despondent. Gwyn — only a child. Karl took to looking after her while the others were occupied. He did not see MOTHER ill, did not know she’d died until Father gathered them to announce it.

“You made her SUFFER, Gryff.” He spits the word like venom, though his eyes remain dark — any sort of real emotion lacking. “And today is when she was finally allowed to DIE. How could you do such a thing to this family? Are you even sorry?”

[stillawhitehill-blog]

Gingerly he dabbed a damp cloth between the space of his nose and upper lip, wiping away both the dried flakes of blood and the still wet droplets. Karl’s words reached his ears, there was hardly any incentive to answer a question with already known answers, his gaze lowering to the basin of water. Instead he focused; was his nose broken? Fingers danced along skin, squeezing the bridge of his nose. A sharp hiss of air, whilst it hurt it did not feel broken.

“He is angry over nothing more than rumors.” He stated, tone heavy with a thick sort of despair as he held his tongue from freeing a list of many reason’s, drilled into his head, as to why he would be beaten like a crippled pup.

Ebbert wished for nothing more than to retreat to his room, to hide away beneath a pile of books and parchment; to be drawn into studies the way Torrhen or Karl was with sword. To double check, even triple check his nose for a break. For a broken nose was the most worrying to the aspiring healer, not the rising welts or split lip.

[gcldenscaled]

“Rumors?”

Now this piqued his interest. He often heard Father barking his damn head about something having to do with Ebbert — knew he disliked him the least out of all of them ( even the DEMON had found its way into the FUCK’s favor ). Ebbert lacked skill with a sword, but made up for it with his intelligence. How could Father not see brain as useful a skill as brawn? —- Perhaps because the old bastard had none.

“What sort of rumors, brother?” Karl stood still, head tilted as he inquired. He wondered if Ebbert would divulge such a thing, or if he’d stay quiet, continue to MOPE like a child. “You know if someone is making a mockery of this family I will not stand for it.”

He refused to be made a fool of.  

[gcldenscaled]

@stillawhitehill

The FUCK was always doing this --- taking what was not his and doing what he liked with it. The annoyance Karl felt had nothing to do with bruises or split lips or welts, but with Father taking his playthings and breaking them. After a beating neither brother wished to do anything other than sulk or hide --- leaving Karl to be bored. 

“How have you angered Father this time?” 

An attempt at softness: concerned crease of the brow, mouth curved into a slight frown. Only his eyes appear uninterested as they linger on his brother’s bloody nose. 

[gcldenscaled]

@morethanjustwords​

“Oh. It’s you.”

A glance over his shoulder at the other before turning away, unimpressed. His presence usually means Karl is about to be yelled at — something he hates. Once again, the DEMON must’ve cried to his trusted hellhound, siccing him on Karl, perhaps hoping some harm could be done. In the end, Gryff was just as bad as they were — only he lacked the balls to deal with them himself.

“Have you come looking for a fight then?” Blue eyes stare straight ahead, interested in everything but the man behind him. Would Harys have the gall to attack a dying man with his back turned?

“Maybe come back another time — I’m not in the mood to deal with you today.”

[gcldenscaled]

@vxicefromhighpoint​

Gwyn ---- 

Out of all of them it was SHE he loved ( as much as Karl could love another ). Dear sister, perfect from birth. MOTHER did not like when he held her, but the woman could do little to keep him away. Gwyn was HIS to protect --- no one else would ever be allowed to or else he’d snap their neck, crush their bones beneath a tightened, unwavering grip, tear their flesh into bloody fucking ribbons...

“Sister ... “ 

Condition is bad today --- enough so he’s forced to stay in bed. The drapes are drawn, drowning the room in darkness, the only light coming from a low, flickering fireplace. It casts an orange glow across both their faces --- Gwyn’s much prettier than his. There’s a desire to reach out and touch her hand, but it’d not be wise. Does not want Gwyn’s prettiness to be ruined, or for it to be his fault. 

“I have something for you. A present.” 

[gcldenscaled]

karl would hate greta. like. hate her. 

she’s a doormat, she poses no challenge to him. torrhen has affections for her but he sees no reason why. at least with every other woman he can pick out a valuable trait or asset they might have, but there truly is nothing special about greta. he doesn’t understand that torrhen likes her because of how she makes him feel, how she’s good with his children, how she makes things seem a bit brighter. not valuable things to karl at all. they’re more intangible, emotive things he doesn’t understand. 

he’d probably take pleasure in tormenting her, startling her, telling her things about torrhen she doesn’t want to hear --- like the things he made him do to gryff when they were kids. 

if she was around when he was dying, he’d probably request for her to sit at his bedside for hours knowing it makes her upset, but she’s too nice to deny him. 

[gcldenscaled]

@serpentii​

He’s a shadow behind her --- observing silently. It’s unpleasant when the Degores come to visit. If he were fourthborn filth like the DEMON then perhaps he could get away with staying in his room. Instead he hovers off to the side with a blankness in his expression that hides contempt. When EDIE is here he is ignored. It’s a feeling he does not like, does not wish to entertain. Torrhen strays from his side to HERS, and that he cannot forgive.

What is so special about her, Karl wonders idly, gaze steadily fixed on the lady in question ---- no shame in being caught staring. She is no different than any other, yet Torrhen and Ebbert and even the DEMON are drawn, trapped in her goodness and her smiles. Women like that annoy him. No doubt Torrhen sees MOTHER in her, a vain attempt to grasp something that no longer existed.

Only HE is immune to her charms, her wiles. Only he can look at her with disdain. It is something he takes pride in.

“I hope my brothers aren’t boring you, lady Edie.”

A smile appears, almost gracious if it’d only reach his eyes. No matter the inflections he tricked his voice into, his eyes would give him away. Nothing behind them, he’d heard MOTHER once say, a worried whisper to Father when she thought no one else around to listen.

“They must be quite exhausting at times --- pulling you this way and that. Everyone fighting for your attention.”

[gcldenscaled]

[1:19:34 AM] Cassie: karl is the sort of bitch who'd make torrhen choose sides like all the time [1:20:00 AM] Jake: "it's me or your baby, torrhen" [1:20:01 AM] Jake: "baby" [1:20:07 AM] Cassie: " : ( " [1:20:26 AM] Jake: karl gets pissy again haha [1:20:31 AM] Jake: GIVE ME WHAT I WANT [1:20:38 AM] Cassie: he's torrhen's other baby [1:20:54 AM] Cassie: "torrhen come sit with me in my dark room in silence" [1:21:03 AM] Cassie: "it'll be so much fun." [1:21:08 AM] Cassie: all said with a deadpan voice [1:21:24 AM] Jake: "actually i think bab has pooed herself so i need to sort this before it seeps through to my hands" [1:21:41 AM] Jake: "but, uh... you have fun with that"

[badgersighted]

The Brothers Whitehill.

[lord-of-the-barrens-blog-deacti]

Torrhen winced as Karl’s expression changed, the cracked, disfigured skin shifting around his face. He couldn’t let his brother near Roslin, he couldn’t let her be infected. She was perfect how she was and now he had her he couldn’t let greyscale take her away from him.

Scowling, he shielded the babe further and shot his brother a look. “Doesn’t matter who the mother is,” he muttered under his breath. 

“She’s nobody. Besides, if I did tell you who she was you’d hunt her down and fuck her just like you did with Isabel and Alanna.” The thirdborn was finding his footing now. Gods forbid, but if Karl took offence Torrhen would easily be able to dispatch him. In that state, the eldest brother was weak and broken, but Torrhen still didn’t want to hurt him. Karl was supposed to be his friend, why didn’t he understand?

“You can tell father if you want.” he grunted. “I need to get used to having a child. She’s staying, like it or not - as much as I can tell you want things to be just like old times, this baby is off limits. She’s not Gryff.”

[gcldenscaled]

A frown then at the mention of the two women. Was he still upset about that? Painting him the villain though his precious IsabelandAlanna had not rejected Karl’s advances. Women were not pure like Torrhen wanted to believe. Every woman was not MOTHER.

He’d learn someday.

“Father will take the news better if he heard it from me anyway.” His words are laced with malice though his expression hardly changes. Face had always been unreadable even before the greyscale began eating away at it. “I’ll tell him how kind you’re being by taking the bastard in.”

Ludd had accepted Alanna into their home all those years ago — though Karl was sure MOTHER had something to do with it as well. A weakness for children was something Torrhen and her shared in common.

“And don’t worry, brother, I won’t harm your child. I’m sure you wouldn’t leave me alone with her anyway — it’d be a shame if she contracted this.” Fingers gingerly touch peeling skin, fresh flakes drifting to the floor like snow. “Though they do say it’s easier to cure in children.”

[lord-of-the-barrens-blog-deacti]

Fucking blew it.

Torrhen had been hoping to bring the babe to Ebbert or Gwyn so they could check her over for any signs of illness or other maladies before letting the  likes of father or Karl know about it. With Gwyn and Ebbert, he’d have people on side to vouch for the baby.

He was lucky he hadn’t run into Gryff, because that would have seven different hells in itself, but Karl was hardly any better - his piercing, icy stare bore into the skull of Torrhen’s daughter, prompting him to shift the blankets around the babe as if to shield her face.

“This is…” he gulped. “This is Roslin. Snow. My daughter. I’m going to be looking after her because her mother can’t. Hopefully that’s not a problem, brother.”

Though it seemed it might be.

[gcldenscaled]

“What sort of mother is unable to look after her own child?”

Eyebrow twitches as his brother shifts blankets to hide the babe from him. The bastard was already turning him soft. This would not do — not at all. What possessed Torrhen to do such a thing? If he were thinking he’d have left the creature with its mother and be done with it.

“Who is she? Some tavern whore?”

Leave it to a whore, shoving her unwanted child onto another. And Torrhen had fallen for her lies as quickly as he’d fallen into her bed. Women could not be trusted — his brother should’ve known that.

“It’ll only become a problem if the whore comes sniffing around for hand-outs.” Karl considers reaching out — touching the babe. It’d be rather funny if she ended up like him. All cracked and shattered, peachy flesh turned black and rotting. Would Torrhen love her then? “Who shall tell Father? You or I?”

[gcldenscaled]

@sxmethingtoprxve​

“ G r y f f...” 

Hands clasped behind his back, Karl leans forward, looking the DEMON right in his eyes. Seeing the fear there pleases him --- to know this monster is afraid of something. The mottled skin of his cheek cracks further as he smiles, pointed wolf teeth a glint of white. 

A tilt of his head as he says, “Do you know what day it is, brother?”

[gcldenscaled]

@lord-of-the-barrens

“What is this?” 

Blue eyes slid in the direction of his brother, lingering for a moment on the bundle of something in his arms. The question was posed, though Karl already knew the answer. A baby --- a BASTARD. He’d smile if the right side of his face had not been frozen in place. Not one of happiness for the younger, but of mocking. What sort of idiot claimed their bastards? Torrhen was a fool, but Karl had not realized the true extent of it. 

The Whitehill stood, careful in his movements as he approached brother and bastard. Inside the blankets was indeed a baby --- pink and blonde and small enough to crush between a man’s own hands. 

( At least Torrhen had the good sense to sire a girl. )