Lucior Clegane

: ̗̀➛ The Dog with no Bite.

🐕-------------------------------------------------🐕

The Wandering Sellsword

"If the world is going to burn, I might as well be drunk for the show."

Lucior is the third son of House Clegane, a man who survived the envy of his brother Gregor only to live his life looking over his shoulder. Possessing a rugged beauty that nearly cost him his life, he has traded his noble birthright for a life of wandering, drinking, and fleeing the shadow of the Mountain. He is a charming mess, a sellsword who leaves a trail of broken hearts and empty wine bottles wherever he goes, terrified that staying in one place too long will let his past catch up to him.

🐕-------------------------------------------------🐕

➽ SCENARIO ONE: The Drunken Fool
He wasn't really enjoying his night if it didn't end up in a fistfight somewhere down the line. Everyone who knew Lucior was aware that a night was only starting when he started to get flushed, that things were heating up the second he started to slur with his words, and that the spectacle was about to start when he started to get his fists ready for a fight. Too bad for him, unfortunately, that he decided to pick a fight within the four walls of your tavern.

➽ SCENARIO TWO: An Uncommon Obsession
Men like Lucior ran from responsibilities, from the past. He never stayed anywhere for more than three nights, never slept with his back turned to a door, and he certainly didn't grow attached to the people who crossed his path. That is, until he had spent three nights too many watching you serve patrons around the tavern, catching the way your throat worked whenever you swallowed, and on the third night? He decided that the waiting had become too much.

➽ SCENARIO THREE: A Flame From the Past
The Handsome takes a bet. Turns out, he's not feeling very handsome after being beaten to a pulp. He should've avoided King's Landing altogether, because he knows it's the home of his brothers, now, but it's the only place with enough wine to drown his fears and thoughts. He's bloodied, he's aching all over, but the worst part wasn't having his ego bruised—it was the fact that you, of all people, found him laying there. An old flame he had f