Post by RICHARD PLANTAGENET on Apr 17, 2010 21:13:51 GMT -5
Hi, my name is Nessie and this is my second character. Something you should know about me is I am in the process of memorizing parts of the play; I’ve got Act One, Scene One off pat and am in the process of memorizing the final soliloquy before the Battle of Bosworth. That’s my favourite soliloquy after Clarence’s dream speech and, of course, ‘Now is the winter of our discontent…’ .
Canon: The Tragedy of Richard III – William Shakespeare
Custom Title: Why, I can smile, and murder while I smile.
PHYSICAL
Age:
48
Gender:
Male
Appearance:
Richard’s eyes are cold and grey, the sort of eyes that seem to bore into one’s soul. He is proud of the fact that, during the numerous melancholy occasions in his life his ‘manly eyes did scorn a humble tear’, even as a child he did not cry as much as expected. A certain Lady Anne has changed all that though…or so he claims.
Height:
Richard had always been shorter in stature than a man of his age aught, mostly due to his irregular birth and thus far slower rate of growth. At present he stands at five foot ten.
Body:
Richard’s ill fated body has been a source of great displeasure and discomfort, not just to himself but to others around him who are afraid of him due to his appearance, or take pleasure in ridiculing him for it. His left arm is withered up and all but useless due to a stroke he had as a baby. His left leg is in a similar state, as he suffered a gunshot wound to it when he was in The Gulf War. The ‘normal’ features of his body are also quite unusual; his skin is particularly pale as he’s prone to picking up illnesses, especially colds (a fact he despises but can do little about as it’s a result of his early birth). At times he has difficulty breathing, particularly when he is afraid. But he’s not a man to scare easily and so this only happens on very rare occasions.
Other distinguishing features:
Richard’s other distinguishing features aside from his obvious physical ailments would be his pronounced limp and his rather large nose, often sources of ridicule along with his other physical setbacks in political cartoons and articles.
Wardrobe:
As if in an attempt to make up for his own lack of looks, Richard tends to deviate towards clothes of a very fine cut, tailor made if not designer. Though he isn’t one to flaunt a brand name he is clearly as well dressed as he can afford to be (and considering the amount of money he has, that’s very well indeed). He is mostly seen in suit and tie ensembles, his favoured look being a red tie with a black suit. He is also accustomed to wearing long black coats, even in the summer. When the occasion calls for it he wears his military insignia with great pride. On the occasions that his leg is causing him particular discomfort, Richard is forced to rely on a walking stick.
[/ul]
Play By: Ian McKellen (who, incidentally, played Richard both onstage and in the 1995 World War II-esque film version)
PERSONALITY
General personality:
Where to start with Richard’s personality? The problem is, he seems to have so many. He’d an adept actor, playing, among many others, the roles of loving brother, thriving wooer and pious and devout Christian. His power of self transformation is something that he delights in; his ability to change his image when the situation calls for it has come in useful on many occasions and, as such, not a lot of people are really sure what to make of him. He can make people trust him, make them think they know his heart when in fact they only know his face.
Only in his dreams does Richard stop acting, and when this happens his identity seems to fall apart. He has never been one for pleasant dreams, it seems that almost every night he’ll wake in a cold sweat, with a cry or fear or trembling in terror, having relived some of the most painful moments of his life.
The real Richard, if he does indeed exist inside the man’s chameleon shell, is a proud and embittered man, grasping for power like a man possessed. He has always been jealous of his older brothers (even simple, plain George) simply due to their power and their looks, hating them for being fair of feature where he was not; the black sheep, the odd one out, the outcast.
“I am myself alone.”
Despite his hatred of his brothers and apparent self loathing at his own appearance, at times Richard manages to seem quite full of himself. He regards himself as superior to those around due to his ability to dissemble and his particularly cunning mind. Everyone around him; they’re just actors in his show.
If all the world’s a stage, Richard considers himself one of the star vehicles. He’s intelligent, shrewd, cunning and duplicitous…and he’s about to stage his greatest masterpiece yet.
Quotes, frequently used expressions:
N/A
Likes:
Dislikes:
Strengths: Determination, Powers of persuasion, A way with words
Weaknesses: Ambition, Pride, Stubbornness
BACKGROUND
Family:
Richard Plantagenet (Father, deceased)
Cecily Plantagenet (Mother, still living)
Edward (Oldest brother, still alive much to Richard’s displeasure due to Edward’s disdainful treatment of him)
George (Older brother, despite the fact that George is the sort of man who wouldn’t hurt a fly, Richard loathes him too).
Education:
He was educated in his younger years by a man who shared his name; Richard Neville. He taught Richard English, Maths, Science, History, Politics and, most particularly, the sort of skills needed to fight in a battle, whether verbal or with a gun. When he regained as normal a lifestyle as he was likely to have whilst in New York, Richard continued to be privately tutored (his mother did not want him to attend a public or even a private school due to his appearance, which she seemed to regard as a blight upon her family). Richard attended university and graduated with an advanced degree in Law.
Occupation:
Richard is a prominent figure in the New York City Government due to his older brother Edward’s position as the Mayor. He, Richard, resides as the Comptroller; he’s third in the line of succession to becoming Mayor after his brother George (who is the Public Advocate; second in line but with little enforceable authority).
Worst past experience:
Without a shadow of a doubt his worst past experience would be the ambush during the Gulf War. He never fully recovered from his injury and walked with a very pronounced limp ever since. Even now, twenty years after he sustained the injury, his leg still causes him a degree of pain.
Best past experience:
Richard’s life hasn’t exactly been a bundle of joy and laughs. He has many fond memories of his years at Middleham, although those recollections pale in comparison to the more recent traumas of his experiences in war. Killing Henry of Lancaster did give him a great deal of satisfaction; he felt no guilt or remorse, just a sort of grim, detached sort of pleasure at having the man disposed of. The reward for killing him, the respect he finally gained from his usually egotistical older brother, was certainly worth the blood on his hands.
Image:
Richard is generally disliked or mistrusted by those he meets. It’s as though he has an aura of disquiet about him, something sinister. He can persuade people to overlook this, however, in his way, if he so desires. Despite his admittedly lacklustre appearance, Richard is quite full of himself, proud almost to a fault. This is a trait often picked up on by others; he is very determined and generally refuses to back down from a challenge or a threat. His limp and his withered arm give some the idea that he’s an easy target for attack; this is quite the opposite. He may not look it but Richard is very powerful, both in body and mind. This disquieting wealth of intelligence and strength make many who meet him ill at ease. Even his own family, particularly his mother, sense there’s something not quite right about Richard. Edward generally treated his youngest brother with disdain and scorn throughout his life, whereas George, for all his good intentions, still seemed to regard Richard as a curiosity akin to a spider in a glass bottle.
History:
Richard was born to Cecily and Richard Plantagenet on the 2nd of October 1962. However his birth was not a happy occasion with smiles and presents in abundance, quite the opposite. Richard was born three months premature and as such the birth was an ordeal for both him and his mother; it was considered a miracle that they both survived. Richard was placed in an incubator almost immediately and had to undergo months of various tests and surgeries to keep him alive. He only weighed one pound and seven ounces.
During the months he was undergoing tests it soon became evident that Richard was going to suffer, not just through them but throughout his whole life. Many problems arose with his lungs and subsequently his breathing and a stroke late in February robbed him of the use of his left arm.
To the great surprise of all present it appeared that Cecily did not care whether her third son lived or died. Instead she lavished her attention on Richard’s older brothers; George, aged seven and Edward, aged ten. Richard was left to fight alone.
While Richard struggled for life, in the land outside aristocrats and elites struggled for power. The Yorkists and the Lancastrians were rival factions from opposing governmental parties, whose power struggle stretched back at least a century. Their disputes usually took place in the form of fierce debates, double crossing, changing loyalties and digging up as much dirt as possible on the opposition, but every once in awhile these battles of words would turn to physical ones, brutal and bloody brawls which threatened to bring England to its knees. Since the aristocracy was in disarray the lower, middle and even higher classes did as they pleased; the crime rate soared, even among the most civilized of districts.
When Richard was at last discharged from hospital in the late summer of 1963, another such battle was taking place. Richard, along with his mother and brothers, sought sanctuary in one of the Yorkist strongholds, Middleham, while his father went to help his faction in the battle. It did not end well; the Lancastrians won that round and Richard Plantagenet Senior was killed.
Richard the son, however, had little knowledge and understanding of these events until he reached about five or so. At Middleham he had made a firm friendship with one Francis Lovell who also resided there; a friendship that would last throughout his life. He and Francis were under the tutelage of Richard Neville, a very influential Yorkist politician who took pride in telling the young boys of his military exploits. From him Richard seemed to inherit a love for violence and, withered arm notwithstanding, was more often than not to be found playing at ‘war’ with Francis, with Richard always on the winning side.
Always.
The real battles occurring outside the sanctuary of Middleham continued to grow worse, and changed Richard’s life forever in the process. When he was only eight years old a major Lancastrian victory saw almost all of the Yorkist strongholds in ruins. The majority of the faction fled the country, Richard and his family included. Richard soon found himself in New York, his faction’s new sanctuary. The Lancastrians appeared to accept the decision for the Yorkists to take power elsewhere and a seemingly firm treaty was signed.
For the next two decades of his life Richard was able to live out his life in a relatively normal fashion. He continued his education and was discovered to have a very intelligent and witty personality, if one was willing to look past his outward appearance. Outward appearance is important to everyone, but to Richard it meant more than to most. He was generally dismissed due to his so called ‘deformity’ while his handsome older brothers basked in glory. It was during these twenty years that Edward ascended as Mayor of New York City and appointed George as his Public Advocate. Although Edward knew Richard to be vastly more intelligent than many of his peers he was reluctant to favour him and instead gave him the position in the government’s city planning department, causing Richard to resent him even more than he already did, if that was possible.
Eight years later and the Yorkist/Lancastrian true still appeared to be holding firm. Richard was growing restless and, for lack of a better word, bored with the continually peaceful and mundane dealings about him. Hungry for the bloodshed he’d been taught to long for and revel in by his Middleham tutor Richard signed himself up to fight in the Persian Gulf War.
Despite his obvious setbacks, Richard proved himself an able fighter and played an increasingly important role in his division. On one occasion he spearheaded an air strike; one outcome of which was the destruction of an oil refinery. Richard was not and has never been a man to admit to fear, but the billowing plumes of black smoke which seemed to envelop the sky and blot out the sun dissuaded him from continuing with the air raids. This didn’t mean he was simply going to give it all up; he was determined to stay and fight, if not for his homeland of England than for himself, and the glory he hoped to get from the experience. He was not, he told himself, to be afraid of shadows.
He may not have shown his fear, he may have tried to forgo the emotion altogether. But to his disgust it returned to him only a few weeks after the air strike, when he and a small group of his men were on a scouting mission. They were ambushed by another small group like themselves and fierce fighting ensued despite the lack of numbers and impressive weapons. During the skirmish Richard, despite his best efforts to detain his attacker, was badly injured- the shot to his left leg caused him not just physical pain but an emotional agony that he was to bear for the rest of his life.
The injury was major enough to put him out of action. Despite his protestations, threats and curses, Richard was shepherded back to New York City, his body on crutches and his mind no less stable.
The welcome home was not one he had expected. In his absence the Lancastrians had taken the opportunity to flout the treaty (they appeared to have recognized Richard’s military prowess where his own supporters did not) and a large division of them had come to New York in an attempt to make Henry, their current leader, Mayor of the city (that and his position in England to boot). The campaign was headed by Henry’s ambitious wife Margaret due to Henry’s frequent bouts of insanity, brought on by the struggles and brutal fighting he could not face.
The Lancastrian attempted coup was short-lived. Henry was imprisoned by Yorkist forces and his supporters all but fled. While those in highest authority tried to decide what to do with the partly mad leader of the opposing party, Richard decided to make their decision easier. On the 22nd of May 1991 Henry was found dead in his cell, and rumours abounded that it was Richard who had had the deed done.
When these rumours were discovered to be true Edward, once again the Mayor and very grateful for it, took it as a sign of Richard’s unwavering loyalty and rewarded him with the position of New York City’s Comptroller.
Richard was pleased…for the next few years. Civil wounds were stopped and peace seemed to live again. Ten years on and things haven’t changed. Richard, now forty eight, is a man of war trapped in a time of peace.
And he’ll do anything to escape it.
THE SAMPLE
In Character Sample:
Richard was in one of his particularly bad moods, one of the foul ones it took something either particularly exciting or particularly gruesome to get him out of. He was currently engaged in drumming his fingers in his desk with the sort of savage ferocity one would expect to find in a caged animal and his breathing was quick and sharp, as though he was struggling to remain calm, resisting the urge to throw something.
“Why is it,” he growled, thinking aloud. “That when my beloved brother decides to fall ill everyone’s tripping over their feet to fluff his pillow, fetch him drinks and soothe his fevered brow with cool cloths, yet when I arrive home from a flaming war with a leg that looks and feels as though it’s been mauled by a pack of wild dogs no-one comes to my aid? When I’m in pain it’s all one big laugh but when Edward so much as gets a paper cut…”
Here he broke off and, unable to restrict his fury to words any longer, picked up the nearest book and flung it with all his might at the wall opposite.
It was just his luck that the door should open at that point, just as the book smashed against the wall and fell to the floor, suddenly limp and frail where it had seconds before been strong. Just like Edward.
Richard rounded on the man who had opened the door, making no attempt to mask his anger at being interrupted in his rather violent contemplations.
“I…I’m s-so sorry to d-disturb, s-sir, but it’s E-Edward. H-he w-wants to s-see you…” the man stammered, clearly afraid Richard was going to throw another book his way.
“Why?” Richard snapped. The less time he spent in the company of his big-headed older brother the better, especially if he was sick. Richard was more apt than others to picking up illnesses, particularly contagious ones.
The man’s demeanor seemed to change; it was clear he had important news to impart as he straightened up a little and unconsciously smoothed out a crease in his suit jacket.
“The doctor has just been to visit him again and I’m afraid the diagnosis is not good.”
The man paused, and Richard took the opportunity to mull over what he’d said. This news was more interesting than he could have hoped! Inwardly he smirked and almost chuckled with a sort of demonic pleasure, but outwardly he kept his face and his voice as calm as though he and this messenger were discussing the weather rather than the Mayor’s illness.
“Well?” Richard said, a little impatiently.
The man’s nervous look returned but he carried on speaking, his wide, scared eyes trying to look anywhere but Richard’s.
“I’m a-afraid there’s n-no easy way to s-s-say this, sir. E-Edward h-has c-cancer…and it’s t-terminal… H-He hasn’t long left to l-live…”
It was difficult, so very difficult, to hold back a triumphant smirk. Richard had to bit the inside of his cheeks to stop himself doing so. Edward didn’t have long to live…Edward was going to die…
One could almost see and hear the gears in Richard’s devious brain began to whir and spin, ideas and schemes forming, plots and plans, inductions dangerous…
What if, what if, what if…
“Interesting…” he muttered.
The man looked confused. “Begging y-your p-pardon, s-sir?”
Immediately Richard’s jovial mood was gone, to be replaced once again by his characteristic bad temper.
“What I said is no concern of yours. If Edward wants to see me take me to him, or would you rather we stood outside my office all day and discussed what I said which, might I re-iterate, is none of your business?”
The man seemed to quail.
“I-I’m s-so s-s-sorry sir…r-right this way…”
As the man turned on his heel and Richard began to limp painfully after him, he allowed that smirk to cross his face. He could not live, he hoped…yet he couldn’t die until Richard had put another scheme in motion…
He’d been formulating this elaborate plot for years, the ultimate power game. Now, it seemed, he’d finally get a chance to play it.
And win. Richard always won.
Richard Plantagenet
Elite
Elite
Canon: The Tragedy of Richard III – William Shakespeare
Custom Title: Why, I can smile, and murder while I smile.
PHYSICAL
Age:
48
Gender:
Male
Appearance:
Richard’s eyes are cold and grey, the sort of eyes that seem to bore into one’s soul. He is proud of the fact that, during the numerous melancholy occasions in his life his ‘manly eyes did scorn a humble tear’, even as a child he did not cry as much as expected. A certain Lady Anne has changed all that though…or so he claims.
Height:
Richard had always been shorter in stature than a man of his age aught, mostly due to his irregular birth and thus far slower rate of growth. At present he stands at five foot ten.
Body:
Richard’s ill fated body has been a source of great displeasure and discomfort, not just to himself but to others around him who are afraid of him due to his appearance, or take pleasure in ridiculing him for it. His left arm is withered up and all but useless due to a stroke he had as a baby. His left leg is in a similar state, as he suffered a gunshot wound to it when he was in The Gulf War. The ‘normal’ features of his body are also quite unusual; his skin is particularly pale as he’s prone to picking up illnesses, especially colds (a fact he despises but can do little about as it’s a result of his early birth). At times he has difficulty breathing, particularly when he is afraid. But he’s not a man to scare easily and so this only happens on very rare occasions.
Other distinguishing features:
Richard’s other distinguishing features aside from his obvious physical ailments would be his pronounced limp and his rather large nose, often sources of ridicule along with his other physical setbacks in political cartoons and articles.
Wardrobe:
As if in an attempt to make up for his own lack of looks, Richard tends to deviate towards clothes of a very fine cut, tailor made if not designer. Though he isn’t one to flaunt a brand name he is clearly as well dressed as he can afford to be (and considering the amount of money he has, that’s very well indeed). He is mostly seen in suit and tie ensembles, his favoured look being a red tie with a black suit. He is also accustomed to wearing long black coats, even in the summer. When the occasion calls for it he wears his military insignia with great pride. On the occasions that his leg is causing him particular discomfort, Richard is forced to rely on a walking stick.
[/ul]
Play By: Ian McKellen (who, incidentally, played Richard both onstage and in the 1995 World War II-esque film version)
PERSONALITY
General personality:
Where to start with Richard’s personality? The problem is, he seems to have so many. He’d an adept actor, playing, among many others, the roles of loving brother, thriving wooer and pious and devout Christian. His power of self transformation is something that he delights in; his ability to change his image when the situation calls for it has come in useful on many occasions and, as such, not a lot of people are really sure what to make of him. He can make people trust him, make them think they know his heart when in fact they only know his face.
Only in his dreams does Richard stop acting, and when this happens his identity seems to fall apart. He has never been one for pleasant dreams, it seems that almost every night he’ll wake in a cold sweat, with a cry or fear or trembling in terror, having relived some of the most painful moments of his life.
The real Richard, if he does indeed exist inside the man’s chameleon shell, is a proud and embittered man, grasping for power like a man possessed. He has always been jealous of his older brothers (even simple, plain George) simply due to their power and their looks, hating them for being fair of feature where he was not; the black sheep, the odd one out, the outcast.
“I am myself alone.”
Despite his hatred of his brothers and apparent self loathing at his own appearance, at times Richard manages to seem quite full of himself. He regards himself as superior to those around due to his ability to dissemble and his particularly cunning mind. Everyone around him; they’re just actors in his show.
If all the world’s a stage, Richard considers himself one of the star vehicles. He’s intelligent, shrewd, cunning and duplicitous…and he’s about to stage his greatest masterpiece yet.
Quotes, frequently used expressions:
N/A
Likes:
- Discord
- Power
- Having the upper hand
- Watching and reading plays/ Theatre in general
- Classical music
Dislikes:
- Times of peace
- Those who judge him from his outward appearance
- People who get in the way of his route to power
- Dogs (they always bark at him for no apparent reason which drives him crazy)
- Small children
Strengths: Determination, Powers of persuasion, A way with words
Weaknesses: Ambition, Pride, Stubbornness
BACKGROUND
Family:
Richard Plantagenet (Father, deceased)
Cecily Plantagenet (Mother, still living)
Edward (Oldest brother, still alive much to Richard’s displeasure due to Edward’s disdainful treatment of him)
George (Older brother, despite the fact that George is the sort of man who wouldn’t hurt a fly, Richard loathes him too).
Education:
He was educated in his younger years by a man who shared his name; Richard Neville. He taught Richard English, Maths, Science, History, Politics and, most particularly, the sort of skills needed to fight in a battle, whether verbal or with a gun. When he regained as normal a lifestyle as he was likely to have whilst in New York, Richard continued to be privately tutored (his mother did not want him to attend a public or even a private school due to his appearance, which she seemed to regard as a blight upon her family). Richard attended university and graduated with an advanced degree in Law.
Occupation:
Richard is a prominent figure in the New York City Government due to his older brother Edward’s position as the Mayor. He, Richard, resides as the Comptroller; he’s third in the line of succession to becoming Mayor after his brother George (who is the Public Advocate; second in line but with little enforceable authority).
Worst past experience:
Without a shadow of a doubt his worst past experience would be the ambush during the Gulf War. He never fully recovered from his injury and walked with a very pronounced limp ever since. Even now, twenty years after he sustained the injury, his leg still causes him a degree of pain.
Best past experience:
Richard’s life hasn’t exactly been a bundle of joy and laughs. He has many fond memories of his years at Middleham, although those recollections pale in comparison to the more recent traumas of his experiences in war. Killing Henry of Lancaster did give him a great deal of satisfaction; he felt no guilt or remorse, just a sort of grim, detached sort of pleasure at having the man disposed of. The reward for killing him, the respect he finally gained from his usually egotistical older brother, was certainly worth the blood on his hands.
Image:
Richard is generally disliked or mistrusted by those he meets. It’s as though he has an aura of disquiet about him, something sinister. He can persuade people to overlook this, however, in his way, if he so desires. Despite his admittedly lacklustre appearance, Richard is quite full of himself, proud almost to a fault. This is a trait often picked up on by others; he is very determined and generally refuses to back down from a challenge or a threat. His limp and his withered arm give some the idea that he’s an easy target for attack; this is quite the opposite. He may not look it but Richard is very powerful, both in body and mind. This disquieting wealth of intelligence and strength make many who meet him ill at ease. Even his own family, particularly his mother, sense there’s something not quite right about Richard. Edward generally treated his youngest brother with disdain and scorn throughout his life, whereas George, for all his good intentions, still seemed to regard Richard as a curiosity akin to a spider in a glass bottle.
History:
Richard was born to Cecily and Richard Plantagenet on the 2nd of October 1962. However his birth was not a happy occasion with smiles and presents in abundance, quite the opposite. Richard was born three months premature and as such the birth was an ordeal for both him and his mother; it was considered a miracle that they both survived. Richard was placed in an incubator almost immediately and had to undergo months of various tests and surgeries to keep him alive. He only weighed one pound and seven ounces.
During the months he was undergoing tests it soon became evident that Richard was going to suffer, not just through them but throughout his whole life. Many problems arose with his lungs and subsequently his breathing and a stroke late in February robbed him of the use of his left arm.
To the great surprise of all present it appeared that Cecily did not care whether her third son lived or died. Instead she lavished her attention on Richard’s older brothers; George, aged seven and Edward, aged ten. Richard was left to fight alone.
While Richard struggled for life, in the land outside aristocrats and elites struggled for power. The Yorkists and the Lancastrians were rival factions from opposing governmental parties, whose power struggle stretched back at least a century. Their disputes usually took place in the form of fierce debates, double crossing, changing loyalties and digging up as much dirt as possible on the opposition, but every once in awhile these battles of words would turn to physical ones, brutal and bloody brawls which threatened to bring England to its knees. Since the aristocracy was in disarray the lower, middle and even higher classes did as they pleased; the crime rate soared, even among the most civilized of districts.
When Richard was at last discharged from hospital in the late summer of 1963, another such battle was taking place. Richard, along with his mother and brothers, sought sanctuary in one of the Yorkist strongholds, Middleham, while his father went to help his faction in the battle. It did not end well; the Lancastrians won that round and Richard Plantagenet Senior was killed.
Richard the son, however, had little knowledge and understanding of these events until he reached about five or so. At Middleham he had made a firm friendship with one Francis Lovell who also resided there; a friendship that would last throughout his life. He and Francis were under the tutelage of Richard Neville, a very influential Yorkist politician who took pride in telling the young boys of his military exploits. From him Richard seemed to inherit a love for violence and, withered arm notwithstanding, was more often than not to be found playing at ‘war’ with Francis, with Richard always on the winning side.
Always.
The real battles occurring outside the sanctuary of Middleham continued to grow worse, and changed Richard’s life forever in the process. When he was only eight years old a major Lancastrian victory saw almost all of the Yorkist strongholds in ruins. The majority of the faction fled the country, Richard and his family included. Richard soon found himself in New York, his faction’s new sanctuary. The Lancastrians appeared to accept the decision for the Yorkists to take power elsewhere and a seemingly firm treaty was signed.
For the next two decades of his life Richard was able to live out his life in a relatively normal fashion. He continued his education and was discovered to have a very intelligent and witty personality, if one was willing to look past his outward appearance. Outward appearance is important to everyone, but to Richard it meant more than to most. He was generally dismissed due to his so called ‘deformity’ while his handsome older brothers basked in glory. It was during these twenty years that Edward ascended as Mayor of New York City and appointed George as his Public Advocate. Although Edward knew Richard to be vastly more intelligent than many of his peers he was reluctant to favour him and instead gave him the position in the government’s city planning department, causing Richard to resent him even more than he already did, if that was possible.
Eight years later and the Yorkist/Lancastrian true still appeared to be holding firm. Richard was growing restless and, for lack of a better word, bored with the continually peaceful and mundane dealings about him. Hungry for the bloodshed he’d been taught to long for and revel in by his Middleham tutor Richard signed himself up to fight in the Persian Gulf War.
Despite his obvious setbacks, Richard proved himself an able fighter and played an increasingly important role in his division. On one occasion he spearheaded an air strike; one outcome of which was the destruction of an oil refinery. Richard was not and has never been a man to admit to fear, but the billowing plumes of black smoke which seemed to envelop the sky and blot out the sun dissuaded him from continuing with the air raids. This didn’t mean he was simply going to give it all up; he was determined to stay and fight, if not for his homeland of England than for himself, and the glory he hoped to get from the experience. He was not, he told himself, to be afraid of shadows.
He may not have shown his fear, he may have tried to forgo the emotion altogether. But to his disgust it returned to him only a few weeks after the air strike, when he and a small group of his men were on a scouting mission. They were ambushed by another small group like themselves and fierce fighting ensued despite the lack of numbers and impressive weapons. During the skirmish Richard, despite his best efforts to detain his attacker, was badly injured- the shot to his left leg caused him not just physical pain but an emotional agony that he was to bear for the rest of his life.
The injury was major enough to put him out of action. Despite his protestations, threats and curses, Richard was shepherded back to New York City, his body on crutches and his mind no less stable.
The welcome home was not one he had expected. In his absence the Lancastrians had taken the opportunity to flout the treaty (they appeared to have recognized Richard’s military prowess where his own supporters did not) and a large division of them had come to New York in an attempt to make Henry, their current leader, Mayor of the city (that and his position in England to boot). The campaign was headed by Henry’s ambitious wife Margaret due to Henry’s frequent bouts of insanity, brought on by the struggles and brutal fighting he could not face.
The Lancastrian attempted coup was short-lived. Henry was imprisoned by Yorkist forces and his supporters all but fled. While those in highest authority tried to decide what to do with the partly mad leader of the opposing party, Richard decided to make their decision easier. On the 22nd of May 1991 Henry was found dead in his cell, and rumours abounded that it was Richard who had had the deed done.
When these rumours were discovered to be true Edward, once again the Mayor and very grateful for it, took it as a sign of Richard’s unwavering loyalty and rewarded him with the position of New York City’s Comptroller.
Richard was pleased…for the next few years. Civil wounds were stopped and peace seemed to live again. Ten years on and things haven’t changed. Richard, now forty eight, is a man of war trapped in a time of peace.
And he’ll do anything to escape it.
THE SAMPLE
In Character Sample:
Richard was in one of his particularly bad moods, one of the foul ones it took something either particularly exciting or particularly gruesome to get him out of. He was currently engaged in drumming his fingers in his desk with the sort of savage ferocity one would expect to find in a caged animal and his breathing was quick and sharp, as though he was struggling to remain calm, resisting the urge to throw something.
“Why is it,” he growled, thinking aloud. “That when my beloved brother decides to fall ill everyone’s tripping over their feet to fluff his pillow, fetch him drinks and soothe his fevered brow with cool cloths, yet when I arrive home from a flaming war with a leg that looks and feels as though it’s been mauled by a pack of wild dogs no-one comes to my aid? When I’m in pain it’s all one big laugh but when Edward so much as gets a paper cut…”
Here he broke off and, unable to restrict his fury to words any longer, picked up the nearest book and flung it with all his might at the wall opposite.
It was just his luck that the door should open at that point, just as the book smashed against the wall and fell to the floor, suddenly limp and frail where it had seconds before been strong. Just like Edward.
Richard rounded on the man who had opened the door, making no attempt to mask his anger at being interrupted in his rather violent contemplations.
“I…I’m s-so sorry to d-disturb, s-sir, but it’s E-Edward. H-he w-wants to s-see you…” the man stammered, clearly afraid Richard was going to throw another book his way.
“Why?” Richard snapped. The less time he spent in the company of his big-headed older brother the better, especially if he was sick. Richard was more apt than others to picking up illnesses, particularly contagious ones.
The man’s demeanor seemed to change; it was clear he had important news to impart as he straightened up a little and unconsciously smoothed out a crease in his suit jacket.
“The doctor has just been to visit him again and I’m afraid the diagnosis is not good.”
The man paused, and Richard took the opportunity to mull over what he’d said. This news was more interesting than he could have hoped! Inwardly he smirked and almost chuckled with a sort of demonic pleasure, but outwardly he kept his face and his voice as calm as though he and this messenger were discussing the weather rather than the Mayor’s illness.
“Well?” Richard said, a little impatiently.
The man’s nervous look returned but he carried on speaking, his wide, scared eyes trying to look anywhere but Richard’s.
“I’m a-afraid there’s n-no easy way to s-s-say this, sir. E-Edward h-has c-cancer…and it’s t-terminal… H-He hasn’t long left to l-live…”
It was difficult, so very difficult, to hold back a triumphant smirk. Richard had to bit the inside of his cheeks to stop himself doing so. Edward didn’t have long to live…Edward was going to die…
One could almost see and hear the gears in Richard’s devious brain began to whir and spin, ideas and schemes forming, plots and plans, inductions dangerous…
What if, what if, what if…
“Interesting…” he muttered.
The man looked confused. “Begging y-your p-pardon, s-sir?”
Immediately Richard’s jovial mood was gone, to be replaced once again by his characteristic bad temper.
“What I said is no concern of yours. If Edward wants to see me take me to him, or would you rather we stood outside my office all day and discussed what I said which, might I re-iterate, is none of your business?”
The man seemed to quail.
“I-I’m s-so s-s-sorry sir…r-right this way…”
As the man turned on his heel and Richard began to limp painfully after him, he allowed that smirk to cross his face. He could not live, he hoped…yet he couldn’t die until Richard had put another scheme in motion…
He’d been formulating this elaborate plot for years, the ultimate power game. Now, it seemed, he’d finally get a chance to play it.
And win. Richard always won.
