Played By: [ . bandus . geekius . ]
Name: Blythe Metriguée
Age: 23
Classification: The Game is my reality, dearest. Care for a drink?
Role: Alas, I do happen to be the princess. But I am a male, I assure.
Skills: He can play the saxophone and seduce women in an instant. What more do you need?
Weaknesses/ Fears: Blythe is scared to death of his mother, the Queen. After eighteen years of his mother crazily trying to convince him he's a girl, he fears her insanity.
Weapon: I do happen to be trained in the extensive usage of various forms of weaponry. Darling, don't try me.
Personality: Blythe is quite the womanizer, or maybe it's humanizer... In any case, he has three criteria for anything he is willing to put sexual interest in; it must walk, talk, and look somewhat human. If it passes those three criteria, he will immediately begin to chase after it like an attached, sex-thirsty, stray dog. At this point, he doesn't know which he craves more, his mother believing him when he says he's a guy or someone who will accept him for the cheating b*****d he is. But, you know, once you've been stuck in frilly dresses for a while, things do start to look interesting. No matter what gender they are. Or race -- have you seen some of those mermaids? Anyhow, that's not the point, darlings.
It is possible for him to be faithful; he just doesn't view it as interesting. What's the fun of having to spend eternity with one person when you could spend it with two or three? He is very slow to anger and loves to poke fun at anyone. He still places hope in a special someone coming along who will win him over so completely that the thought of cheating on him/her will make him violently ill. So far, he's had no such luck.
Even if he has no luck with his woman search, he still has a life. He gets mad, sad, and happy depending on the circumstances surrounding him. Some of his pet peeves are being perceived as girly, women who do not respect his sexiness, and being cooped up in the castle. He grows sad when he doesn't get his way or when it rains. Gotta love the sun, yes? He is most cheerful, however, when he is having his way with someone who doesn't look half bad or when he is simply having his own way. Sound spoiled? Perhaps he is. It's not like Blythe cares either way, though.
Bio: Blythe was born in the usual fashion - squalling, bloody, and surrounded by the usual bunch of nobles that attended noble births. However, he was also born to a Queen that did not have any sort of affinity for the male race, other than the fact that they were absolutely necessary to keep one's race going on strongly; just the matter that humans had to survive. As the third son out of seven, he was chosen to be the victim - the one that his mother deemed to be 'hers' with which to do whatever she wanted. No, it wasn't anything bad. Actually, he was the prettiest. So, what she did when he was five, was play dress-up. With a pretty pink dress. Only thing is, that game of dress-up hasn't quite ended yet, much to everyone's evident amusement. That is, everyone but Blythe.
So he spends his days in lovely gowns and such, with out being able to showcase those fine muscles that he's developed as a result of much training, undertaken in secret by his father and brothers. And there's the bit that's done under his mother's nose, just so that 'Bernice', or whatever she felt like calling him [Charity, Lucille, Amalisa, and other sorts of frilly pink names], stayed in shape. Corsets do tend to pinch terribly - didn't you know that?
So he's stayed this way, attempting to fend of unwanted flirtations [because it's only the most beautiful for Blythe; nothing less than the best] and trying to convince everyone that yes, he is a man. No, he's not homosexual, and yes, this is all his mother's doing. It's all rather interesting, and many find it a spectacle to see the already handsome enough man put into something that enhances the feminine qualities of his face. Many a prince has swooned before the 'princess' and attempted to grope [because nobody had excellent manners] her in hopes of undying lust. Or love. And then they found themselves quite surprised and flustered, although Blythe does get them in bed anyways later.
Appearance: Let`s line up. We wouldn`t want anyone getting squashed, now would we?
Orientation: Ah. Let's not quibble, shall we? [ » b i s e c k s u a l ♥ ]
Other: The cat, as featured in Blythe's picture, was christened Sir Dustiford Unarvlis Stephen Teverius Ygrane and follows our dear Prince everywhere. Long name? Most definitely. But we can't let commoners follow our beloved Blythe around, now can we?
[ . bandus . geekius . ] Community Member 
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