Name: (Lord) Monroe Ashmore
On an early age Monroe had lost his parents and had to run his fatherís company, which specialised itself in weaponry that would be used in wars. He grew up with butlers and nannies, yet without the love of his parents. He grew up to be a rich and powerful man who enjoyed fooling around with his clients. Especially when he knew that they were trying to set him up, which happened quite often. Monroe still has this somewhat childish side of him. He dresses quite odd and colourful. He likes his luxury and the power he can have over others. But heís a good person. Somewhat creepy, but patient and friendly when he feels like it.
His hair is dark brown and his eyes are bright, piercing, blue. He has a slender build.
The day was still young when Monroe Ashmore woke up. The light was seeping though the white curtains, that hung before the tall, grande windows, and lighted his room up. There was an oaken floor, like in the rest of the manor house, the walls were crimson red. In the middle of the room there hung an old, mighty chandelier with countless candles. There was an attractive stone fireplace that would warm the room in the cold winter days. Then there was the four-poster bed with the tall, wooden, posts that supported the weight of red curtains. On either side of the bed there was a nightstand with candles on them, Monroe was fond of his candles. There was also this old, tall closet that was filled with the strange clothing of its lord. From high hats to bow ties and even a dress. The room was overall quite comfortable and relaxing. It wasn't all too decorated. Besides the furniture there were also two doors, one leading to the bathroom which had a big, relaxing bath, and the other to a long hallway with countless doors to countless rooms. Some used by the staff that worked in the house, some were from family members that were no more and then there was also a library, a study and another bathroom. The hallway was lighted with candles. Ashmore liked it like that. It was calming and reminded him of fairy tales and castles. Yes, his mind was still somewhat childish from time to time.
The stairs at the end of the hallways lead both ways, up and down. Up would be the attic where Monroe never went. He had only been there once when he was a child, but he had gotten frightened and decided never to go back to that place, so he couldn't quite recall what it looked like. Down lead to the main hall and the front door of the house. The front door was heavy and large, once more made of wood. There was a white carpet that lead to the dining hall. Once more there hung a large chandelier made of monks wood, the walls were blue and the pillars that supported the high ceiling were white. The dining hall was simple and quite bright due to the white light and the windows that let in bright light. There was one long table with countless chairs. The chair at the head of the table was highest and most decorated. Here too were pillars, white as snow, and an old clock that would echo through the halls and rooms of the house whenever it went off.
Monroe had never been to the kitchen. When he had been younger he wasn't allowed to go there and now that he was 24 he was simply not interested in it anymore. He did however spent a lot of time in the gardens behind the house. It went on and on and there were countless flowers and trees. To him it was a wonderland that kept revealing more and more secrets every time he would visit it. The brunette had already spent countless hours in the maze of plants. Around the manor and its garden there was a forest and there were mountains in the distance. From the second floor you'd have a great view. When you entered through the gates in front of the manor house, which was tall, old and strong with on both sides of the gravel road the shield of the Ashmore family held by a dragon. The shield had two ravens on it and was colored red and white. The gravel road would go around a fountain in front of the house where men would get off their horse or out of their carriage and approach the house. The grass around it was of the greenest grass and there were countless rose bushes with red and white roses.
The house itself was tall, old yet intimidating. The stone that it had been made of was grey. Above the door and between the two windows of Ashmore's room there was his shield once again. But besides the cheerfulness of the garden there was something dark about the house. It wasn't just intimidating it was also slightly sinister. No matter how green the grass or how colorful the flowers, the house was dark and eerie.
Monroe Ashmore forced himself to sit up in his bed as he brushed his fingers through his messy hair. He hadn't been awaken by his butler. Did that mean he had, once more, a new one? He wondered for a while as his bright blue eyes stared blankly at the fireplace. He then pushed the blankets off of him and stretched himself. The only thing he wore was a long, white blouse that almost reached till his knees. He pulled it down even further as he set his feet upon the wooden floor. Slowly he approached the window and opened the curtains. Staring down at the gravel road.