(   nicholas galitzine +  cismale +  he/him  )   dearest  reader,  i  am  ever  so  delighted  to  introduce asher sharp,  the  twenty four year oldmister,  known  among  the  ton  as  charming +  poised  but  their  foes  would  certainly  tell  you  that  they  are  more  manipulative +  secretive.  perhaps  that  is  why  many  seem  to  think  they  had  something  to  do  with  the  ongoings  around  the  ton,  but  here  they  are  anyway  !    (   em , 27 , she/her , bst , n/a .   )
âintro
full name â Ares 'Asher' Sharp
current age â 24
faceclaim â Nicholas Galitzine
based off of â Bridgeton and historical books
hobbies â balls, fairs, playing piano
status â unmarried
Growing up in a large family, Asher often found himself caught in a whirlwind of activity and expectations. With numerous siblings who excelled in various areas, he constantly tried to follow in their footsteps, striving to carve out his own niche. However, his younger years were marked by a sense of not quite fitting in. While his siblings seemed to effortlessly succeed, Asher grappled with his identity and place within the family. Despite this, he shared a unique bond with his father. His father's passing left an unfillable void in Asher's heart, a loss that reverberated deeply within him and affected his sense of security and belonging.
Asher's struggle with his identity extended to his given name, Ares, which he felt did not represent who he was. Around friends, he insisted on being called 'Asher,' a name that felt more aligned with his personality. As he grew older, Asher began to find his footing, embracing his individuality and strengths. Though he continued to make mistakes, he was driven by a desire to be the best version of himself, mindful of the unique attributes and circumstances that set his family apart.
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Wanted connections
friends: I'd like for Asher to gain some friendships. He will be sociable and will make time for other people.
possible romances: I feel like Asher would like to look into the idea of getting married young, but even if marriage is out the question. I feel like he would someone down for a little rendezvous
enemy: Asher isn't perfect. He may have possibly hurt someone with his rebellious streak in past.
good influence: someone who is trying to steer Asher on the correct path.
bad influence: someone who is steering Asher to be a little rebellious and not follow the rules set in place.
grew up around: someone a similar age to asher who grew up around him (think pen/eloise type friendship)
brother from another mother: someone he looks out for like a brother although not blood related.
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Nicholas was glad for them to have been outside, as he felt the urge to take a much needed breath, deep as ever, expanding his lungs and forcing to calm the nerves that nearly sent him into a state which he hadn't experienced since the aftermath of his first ball back in society just a couple of months ago. "Forgive me, I'm afraid crowds oftentimes overwhelm me entirely." His fists clenched, and then fingers unfurled to stretch his hands, focusing on the other gentleman's words in a way to ground himself. "Perhaps..." He cleared his throat. "...perhaps there is another way to get closer." One without bodies upon bodies and deafening sounds. "A view from the high ground?"
With the keen sensitivity of one well-versed in the subtleties of human emotion, observed a flicker of unease in his companionâs countenance amidst the bustling throng. "Pray, do not trouble yourself with apologies. Your discomfort is wholly understandable," he assured, his voice imbued with a quiet empathy. Though Asher himself was unperturbed by the swell of bodies that had been around them, he was acutely aware that such environments could unsettle others. With a gentle yet decisive gesture, he indicated upwards, a suggestion gleaming in his eyes. "Your thought is indeed a wise one. Surely, there must be a balcony from which we might observe the proceedings below with greater ease. Shall we seek it out together?" His offer hung in the air.
at the mention of lady whistledown, kate could not help but glance downwards at the pamphlet taking residence in his hands. " did she have any news to report following the queen's ball ? " her tone curious. she had not had the time this morning to read the column. " i am quite interested to try a sponge cake. it seems to be quite different to what i am use to. "
Asher, with the grace and nonchalance befitting a gentleman of his stature, let his gaze drift lazily over the pamphlet's contents, hardly lingering on any particular word or detail. With a casual flick of his wrist, he dismissed the trivial gossip of the seasonâ "it reads of the clashing hues of ladiesâ gowns, the silent tongues of those who were expected to speak -the usual trifles," he confessed, tucking the paper into his coat with an air of indifference. "Might I inquire, my lady, what tales you find yourself accustomed to?" His eyes sparkled with a hint of intrigue.
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" at least you are honest in admitting your surprise. i have found that most gentlemen will attempt to do the exact opposite. " the widowed duchess mused aloud with slight amusement gleaming her eyes. " i am quite enjoying my drink. the club always does remain in possession of such fine liquor. care to join me, mister sharp ? "
"Indeed, Madam, but I am unlike most gentlemen," Asher replied with a sincerity that shimmered in his gaze. The youngest of the Sharp brothers, he was a man unperturbed by the sight of a lady partaking in a drink, yet her presence here, on this particular evening, was an unforeseen delight. Settling himself opposite her with a casual grace, he inclined his head, his expression alight with curiosity. "Perhaps I shall join you in your revelry," he mused with a charming grin, "for I am most intrigued by this drink of which you speak so highly of."
"I must admit, the sight of you here catches me quite off guard, my lady, but it seems we are both equally taken aback by this unexpected encounter." He uttered with a gentle nod, his eyes meeting hers, silently acknowledging the shared astonishment.
"Please, do join me. Whilst I was not expecting company I'd certainly not be against it this afternoon." Natalie was a frequent visitor to the various team rooms in town and as she looked up to see a shadow over her table she was eager to give the invitation out. Although not always social she improved after tea.
His face alight with a rare and genuine smile, directed his attention towards the lady who had graciously extended an invitation to her table. He had not anticipated such an offer, but it provided a welcome reprieve from his need to hurry back. "Are you sure, Your Grace? I wouldn't want to be a bother you," he inquired, his voice laced with sincere concern. Although he relished the idea of keeping her company, he felt compelled to ensure her comfort. Balancing two drinks, one intended for leisurely consumption at the tea shop and the other for his stroll back, he gently placed the steaming cup on the table before her. "Here, please help yourself to this," he offered with a courteous bow. "It's still extremely hot, just a warning."
Asher who was ever the curious soul despite his notorious shortcomings, found himself irresistibly drawn to the commotion ahead. Eager to uncover the source of the noise. He had missed the grand ball, a fact he disclosed with genuine regret, attributing his absence to a sudden illness. "I was unwell on the night of the ball," he admitted earnestly, "but I am fully recovered now. It's a pity I missed it, but there will always be another. It was prudent to regain my health before mingling again." With a courteous nod towards the direction of the crowd, Asher took the lead, striding slightly ahead and suggesting, "Let's follow them. Knowing our luck, itâs merely two mammas quarrelling, but we shan't discover the truth if we don't join the throng."
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The reason for Nicholas' lack of movement was less of a shocked curiosity and much more of an overwhelming sense of uneasiness at the amount of people and noise around him. Even air seemed to have been sucked out from under him, and he was in the middle of glancing to the side, in search of a place to take refuge when he realized that there were indeed words directed right at him, prompting him to pay attention. "Madness? Surely not." His voice was surprisingly stable considering what was going on in his head. One of the gentlemen hurrying towards the source collided with Nicholas' shoulder, making him tense up all the more. "There must be a way to find out without practically charging into battle. I think I might've heard my sister's war cry just a moment ago." Though the latter was the least shocking of all.
Asher as a gentleman of notable composure, found himself quite at odds with the tumultuous nature of sudden rushes. His preference lay in the realm of the orderly and predictable, where every nuance of the situation was well within his grasp. The very idea of people pushing past him and unceremoniously jostling him about left him with a distinct sense of unease. "I was tempted to follow and linger at the back," he mused, "but I might wait until the situation has calmed down before taking a look. I do not wish for people to suddenly change their minds and rush back in as I am heading in the opposite direction."
Asher turned his head at the sound of Kate's voice, his features lighting up with a genuine smile that illuminated oer his feature "Please, don't worry about it. I was merely just reading anyway," he confessed, setting aside the latest issue of Lady Whistledown's tantalizing gossip which he had left home with to read upon. His curiosity piqued, he leaned in slightly, his tone both playful and sincere as he inquired, "Anything taken your fancy?" He asked, nodding his head towards the desserts.
Asher stepped into the room, his eyes widening in a moment of genuine astonishment, though not of the unpleasant variety. The sight of another there, unexpected yet far from unwelcome, caught him off guard. The brunette, whose refined demeanour could charm the most indifferent soul, placed a hand upon his heart, a gesture that spoke volumes of sincerity and warmth. "I am surprised, yes," he began, his voice carrying the gentle cadence of authenticity, "a little startled but pleasantly surprised, I assure you." His gaze softened as he addressed the lady nearby, his tone now laced with a courteous inquiry, "How is your drink, my lady?"
Rosemary couldn't help but smile at Asher's gracious acknowledgment of his blessings, his sincerity shining through his words. "It is indeed a privilege to have such opportunities," she agreed, her voice carrying a note of thoughtful reflection. "But it is also admirable to recognize and appreciate them as you do. Many in your position might take them for granted." As Asher admitted his lack of creativity but expressed admiration for hard work, Rosemary's eyes softened with understanding. "Creativity takes many forms, Asher. While painting may not be your forte, I'm certain you excel in areas where I might struggle. That is the beauty of our individual talents."
When Asher responded to her comment about leading future endeavors together with a whimsical grin, Rosemary felt a flutter of excitement herself. His boyish charm was infectious, and she found herself drawn to his enthusiasm. His humble apology and subsequent bow were met with a warm, appreciative laugh from Rosemary.
"The pleasure is mine, Asher," she replied, her tone both kind and inviting. "I am Lady Rosemary Templeton, but please, feel free to call me Rosemary. Formalities can be so tiresome, don't you agree?" She extended her hand toward him, her smile widening into a genuine expression of camaraderie. "I look forward to many more conversations and shared adventures, Asher. I believe we have much to learn from one another."
Asher was acutely aware of the shadowy dealings that had paved his family's path to their current standing. His family, unlike many others who were less fortunate, had managed to climb the social ladder through means that would raise more than a few eyebrows if brought to light. "I believe the area I excel in is food tasting. A connoisseur, one might say," he teased with a light-hearted chuckle, masking the uncertainty of his true talents.
Despite the questionable ethics that occasionally shadowed his family's name, Asher prided himself on his down-to-earth demeanor. He was a man of principle, avoiding wronging others unless driven by necessityâwhether to safeguard his family's interests or to secure an advantageous position for himself. He lived by a simple creed of fairness, yet understood the complexities of survival in their world. "Rosemary," he repeated softly, ensuring the name would etch itself into his memory. With a gentle, practiced grace, he took her hand and placed a delicate kiss on its back, embodying the very essence of gentlemanly charm.
"I am confident that this marks the beginning of a beautiful friendship, Rosemary," he confessed with sincerity gleaming in his eyes. "I promise you, you'll have a steadfast friend in me." His words were laden with genuine warmth and the quiet assurance that he valued loyalty and companionship above the superficial trappings of their social sphere.
Asher, with an elegant flourish, adjusted his attire to perfection after the bustling throng had surged past, their frenetic energy almost sweeping him along in its tide. A soft, knowing chuckle escaped his lips, aware that he could have been unceremoniously jostled back with the crowd, his destination unbeknownst to all. "Temptation tugs at my curiosity, urging me to uncover the commotion's cause," he confessed, his voice a melodious blend of intrigue and candour. Extending a hand with practiced grace, he greeted his companion, "A pleasure to see you once more, Adolphus." he said, offering a slight bow out out of politeness.
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Rosemary's eyes sparkled with amusement and genuine interest. "I must say, your enthusiasm is quite refreshing," she remarked. "It is rare to find someone who speaks with such passion about the simple beauties of life. As for the muses behind the paintings, I often ponder the same. The stories they could tell, the lives they've led... it's a fascinating mystery. Are they mere amalgamations of acquaintances or whimsical constructs born from the artist's imagination? "
She paused, her smile softening as she looked back at the brunnete. "Your insights are most intriguing, kind sir. Though you may not consider art your strong suit, you certainly have a way of engaging with it that is both thoughtful and refreshing." She took a delicate sip of her drink. "And as for grand adventures, I have no doubt that we shall indeed lead the way," she added with a playful smile. "But before we embark on such endeavors, may I have the pleasure of knowing your name, kind sir? It seems only fitting that such an intriguing conversation be properly introduced."
Asher's smile, like the dawning of a new day, was a testament to the genuine warmth that blossomed in his heart upon receiving the compliment. With an elegant grace, his hand found its place gently over his heart, a silent gesture of his heartfelt gratitude. "I have to be thankful for the position I'm in. Others do not get half the opportunities I do," he reflected, his tone devoid of arrogance, filled only with sincere appreciation. Asher's words carried no malice towards those less fortunate; they were simply an acknowledgment of his own blessings. "I don't know how one can get to a canvas and paint for hours if not at a class. Creativity is not my strong suit, but I do admire hard work when I see it," he admitted.
When Rosemary spoke of leading future endeavour's together, Asher's expression transformed into a whimsical grin, his boyish charm shining through. Her words struck a chord within him, and he could not help but feel a flutter of excitement at the prospect. "I'm sorry. That's the first thing I should have probably done," he began, his voice tinged with both humility and delight. He stepped back, placing his hand over his stomach as he executed a bow with impeccable finesse. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady. I am Ares Asher Sharp," he introduced himself, his eyes locking with hers in a moment of genuine connection. "But please, do call me Asher. It's much preferred," he added, his smile widening into a grin that spoke of both his respect and his eagerness to foster this newfound camaraderie.
She offered him a warm smile, her eyes reflecting a mixture of amusement and empathy for his evident bewilderment. "It is a rather frenetic scene, isn't it?" she remarked, her voice carrying a gentle, melodic quality. "The rush of it all can indeed be quite overwhelming. One moment, everything is calm and orderly, and the next, it's as if the entire world has been thrown into a whirlwind of activity."
The gentleman's confession about feeling like he was forgetting planned events resonated with her. She nodded in understanding. "I often feel the same, as if there are moments slipping through my fingers in the chaos. But perhaps that's just the nature of our societyâconstantly in motion, always a step ahead or a step behind."
"My day has been quite pleasant, thank you," she replied, her smile widening. "I spent the morning in the garden, sketching. There's something wonderfully grounding about being surrounded by nature, don't you think? And now, here in this gallery, I'm reminded of the beauty that can emerge from both order and chaos." Her gaze drifted back to the artwork, her expression thoughtful. "Art, in many ways, mirrors life. It's a beautiful mess, as you so aptly put it. Each piece, each stroke, tells a storyâsometimes clear, sometimes enigmatic, but always worth contemplating." Returning her attention to Asher, she added with a touch of playful curiosity, "And how has your day been, kind sir? Have you discovered any new masterpieces or had any enlightening encounters amidst the madness? "
As she spoke of the world's frenetic whirl, he felt a rush of accord, so much so that his hand, almost instinctively, pointed at her with a blend of astonishment and admiration. "I couldn't have described it better myself," he conceded, allowing a hearty laugh to escape his lips.
His gaze, ever restless, wandered momentarily to the bustling throng that animated the room. Yet, as quickly as his attention strayed, it returned with unwavering focus to the lady before him. "I'm certain we shall be the pioneers of another grand adventure," he declared with a mischievous grin, "and soon enough, all others will be compelled to follow our lead." The conviction in his voice was matched by the twinkle in his eye.
Her smile broadened, and in that instant, his own grin mirrored hers, a testament to the infectious nature of genuine joy. "Nature, my lady, is indeed one of my most cherished sanctuaries," he confessed with a touch of fervour. "The liberty of the great outdoors, the caress of the breeze, the kiss of the sunâthese are the treasures that keep me from the confinement of walls and ceilings." His eyes drifted to a nearby painting, a silent sentinel in their conversation. "That artwork stirs my curiosity," he admitted. "I often wonder about the muses behind the faces in such grand pieces. Are they mere amalgamations of acquaintances or whimsical constructs born from the artist's imagination? Alas, art is not my forte," he grinned, a self-deprecating chuckle escaping him, "but it never fails to intrigue me."
