WORCESTER, lachlan

[LACHLAN WORCESTER]

* *

[/color]
lachlanyorkworcester[/center]

age!

[/font][/size][/ul]
gender!

[/font][/size][/ul]
sexuality!

[/font][/size][/ul]
class!

[/font][/size][/ul]
alias!

[/font][/size][/ul]
ethnicity!

[/font][/size][/ul]

---

positive traits!

[/color] fatherless father – A bastard? Why, Lachlan didn’t know it mattered to you in the slightest. What more do you need in life but someone to cry on and not say a word, someone to tuck you in when the monsters in the night bump and give you a fright? He’s a sucker for sob stories, leaves his door unlocked for when someone needs some comfort in the wee dawn hours. He’ll always have a pint of bitter and a gallon of Jerry in his kitchen, a box of tissues and a good book of poetry all ready. It takes a real man to take care of others as well as himself, a true man’s man to keep the secret to his grave. Lachlan never knew his father, don’t start crying since he doesn’t care anymore, and he’s made it his mission to be the father that his own father was never man enough to become.
& sadistic confidant – Mama raised Lachlan right, taught him not to listen to what people say and pay more attention to what they reveal with their bodies. He’ll be bad to be good, twist the wires and push until the bones break and everything changes for the worst. And when you scream it’ll be Lachlan whispering your cure in your ear, drags everything wicked from you in one session of pure cathartic pain. You’ll thank him later, when you’ve got your clothes back on and you’ve scrubbed the taste of his attention from your teeth. Because Lachlan’ll be right in the end, ready and waiting for you to leave your little shell and admit to yourself your sins. Life’s that much easier when you’ve left no secrets from yourself, and he’s more than happy to do whatever it takes for that to happen.
& professor the pierrot – The world, my dear little fool, is all about breaking things down, equal parts show and tell in the stage act of life. If you can’t display flair, you don’t even have to manage as well as Lachlan does because everyone has their own levels of special, then you have no business devoting your life to the service of someone else. It’s a flick of the wrist and a turn of the head, a confiding whisper and a hedonist’s smile that lead the unsuspecting sheep down the path of knowledge. He’ll rip it apart and show you how it’s done, this part goes here and that part follows up to there and the grand finale screams off into agony. That’s how it’s done and how Lachlan does it, it’s quick and clean, it’s the concept that will change your life for sure.
& victory in spades – There’s no such thing as losing, not when you’ve got Lachlan’s intellect to back up the wicked plans of downfall. The world wasn’t conquered in a day, and it takes all kinds of diverse tactics to turn even the worst moments into the greatest successes. Sure, you’re a bit thick in the head. But this is a simple enough concept that even you can understand so chin up, back straight, and open those pot lids you call ears. At some point in your miserable little career as a servant of your superiors, you are going to have to fix their failure. So start reading everything you can like Lachlan did, start at Sun Tsu and finish off the pile with a healthy round in Martha Stewart.
&crown the lord – There’s a difference between the manners your mother taught you and the manners you need to have for formal situations. Sit your happy self down and learn the difference kiddo, because Lachlan will eat you alive with all the considerable pomp and circumstance he can muster. They say it’s in his blood, the fine mannerisms of court and glory, but no one will deny that within that man lays the heart of a proper lord and it would behoove the assembled to treat him as such. His lady is Lachlan’s personal goddess incarnate, revered on the one hand and sequestered with the other. Some people say he’s fanatical, but Lachlan prefers to phrase himself as being merely ‘properly knowledgeable on the exact necessities of caring for his lady’.
[/ul][/font][/size]
negative traits!

[/color] trip the light fantastic – There are those of you who dance and do it well, those of you who prance about the world with a musical score all your own. Lachlan is, sadly enough, one of those yuppie sorts of people. He can’t go three seconds without his brain helpfully filling in the background score of his life, all crescendos and naughty little death dirges with catchy drum beats. Honestly, Lachlan blames his first Master for his new trained reactions, Lachlan’s incessant need to have some proper music to set the scene. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he wasn’t so obsessed with getting it perfect, so driven by his own internal training that he forgets that no one else particularly wants to hear him humming Chopin. Especially not since he’s most likely cavorting about the place like a one man waltz team.
&puppeteer dog – Lachlan just can’t help himself anymore, it’s just that much fun to tear your morals away and leave you lying there in a puddle of sin. Of course he’ll blame it on you later, add just one more notch to the top of his bed. Oh who the hell is he kidding. Listen, this stays between us, and gets stricken from the record. Lachlan sleeps with the downtrodden and destitute, uses his own body to cure them of their inferiority. Sure, it sounds all philanthropic when you stop there, but it’s not really like that. The problem is that he does it for his own happiness, likes seeing people at the line between orgasm and self-fulfillment and loves it when he’s the reason for it. And Lachlan’ll rip the love from your eyes and drink in the feeling of controlling your entire existence.
& no rest for the wicked – Gramma and baby, there’s no salvation for you here. Because Lachlan doesn’t care about those he’s not pledged to, won’t lift a finger to even help you cross the street. He lives for his word and his word alone, an unceasing and thankless job that makes him just shit proverbial kittens. But some of his orders aren’t ones he should follow, lead to a collection of pretties for his Lady and a gravedigger’s reputation. But he’ll do them anyway, morals long gone in this breakneck career. And when it’s all over Lachlan will be elegantly composed, an emotionless servant made of glacial perfection, not a speck of remorse for you in that black sin saturated soul. The best part of all this? Oh, he does it every day.
& aggravated monster – Oh baby, Lachlan loves it when you cry like that. Bleed some more for him would you… yeah, just like that. Now if you don’t mind, he’ll be using your arm to beat you senseless. You really shouldn’t pick on his charges like that, not with your hands down their fronts and your little bitty manhood stuck up like it means something. Between you and Lachlan, plus that brick wall over there and the door frame over yonder, you’ll be painting the world a beautiful shade of crimson. It’s just a pity you won’t be awake to see the perfection of what Lachlan has done, not as he licks the blood from his skin and tastes your pure fear. What’s worse is that when you do wake up he’ll be long gone, a wake of broken bodies marking the trail of his vengeance. Because whatever it is you start, this butler will be more than happy to wipe the floor with you and everyone you hold dear.
&lust in the garden – Good god, don’t even talk to this man if you can’t keep a blush from your face. Lachlan is what is known in impolite society as a manwhore, couldn’t keep his pants on and doesn’t even bother to try. You could tie him up and whip him, flip it around and scream as he bites you, it doesn’t matter to him. Either way you’ll wish you hadn’t, cry as he annihilates everyone who touches what he considers his, takes out his rage with whatever is left of your dignity. Lachlan is a considerate lover, ignores himself with the express goal of ruining whatever façade of control you had left. But the fact remains that this is the sort of bad boy your mother warned you about, and you had best watch what you say and do around him.
[/ul][/font][/size]
likes!

[/color]Moonlit walks on the beach.
&The peace of a dojo.
&Sex. Lots of it.
&Serving his Lady… even when she doesn’t want it.
&Practicing his duties. All of them.
[/ul][/size][/font]

dislikes!

[/color]Incompetent people.
&People around his Lady.
&Disorder in any form.
&Potpourri.
&Sweets.
[/ul][/size][/font]

personal items!

[/color]Aluminum handled yarn mop.
&Antique silver pocket watch.
&White kid gloves.
[/ul][/size][/font]

extra info!

[/b]- Born in Sidney, somewhere amidst the Aussie refuse and infamous koala trees, Lachlan Worcester is the spawn of a failed family. They were great once, around when Windsors meant something and cars where the newest sensation. It was in the fall that Lachlan found his absolution, traced after the boot heels of his native millionaire’s servants and began slaving his way to the top. And flat on his back, neat church clothes all in ruins thanks to the wine pooling around him like crimson life, Lachlan realized his only purpose in life was to be perfect. So he learned everything he could, grabbed a pretty little rich boy and punched him in the face until another little brat was free. One brawl led to the next, and when he had a master Lan volunteered to get the snot kicked out of him by brawly Jews in the name of mastering something a little bit more useful. And this led to that which led to his eventual enrollment in an institution unlike any other. He’s a bit too old to be there, but it’s that edge that makes him good at what they ask him to do, those years of sucking up to rich people that keeps him classy.
[/ul][/size][/font]

---

how'd you find us!

other characters!

[/blockquote][/blockquote]