Character(s) Peachy's Pet Projects

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Character(s) Peachy's Pet Projects

RP: A Matter Of Business
Status: Abandoned

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Name:
Victoria Marquise
Age: 27
Height: 5'5"
Hair Color: Dark Brown
Eye Color: Stone Blue
Personality: Cool, decisive, charismatic, arrogant
Occupation: Trust Fund Baby, Secretary

Bio:
As the daughter of the CEO of WorldLink, an international trading organization, Victoria's life has hardly been a difficult one. Her first and only job was secured from the very start, working under her father as a "secretary," if you can really call it that. Life's been cushy for her, but with a number of strange goings-on popping up all over her radar, Victoria is beginning to suspect that something fishy might be going on.
 
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RP: Star Wars: Beneath The Surface (Older version of this character used in Tactical Maneuvers)
Status: On Hiatus

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Name: Dessa Vr'Tan
Age: 25
Race: Zeltron
Height: 5'7"
Hair Color: Dark Red (almost black)
Skin Color: Crimson Pink
Eye Color: Ice Blue
Occupation: Thief, Information Trader
Build: Svelte, Athletic
Personality: Confident, Cocky, Charming, Persuasive, Alluring, Quick-Witted

Bio:
Dessa was raised in a planet-hopping cargo ship with no orbiting body to call home. Her mother was a mystery to her, but her father, Teb, was a former party-lover with an address book full of connections. As a child, she was told that her mother was "away" or otherwise back home on Zeltros, but once she was older, her father told her the disappointing truth that her mother had died of an overdose when Dessa was only two years old. Heartbroken, Teb fell into a slump of heavy drinking and spice use until a particularly rough bar fight set him straight. When he was released from the infirmary, he packed up his things, picked up his daughter, and hopped on his friend's cargo freighter to hopefully make something of himself. Seventeen years later, another bar fight gone wrong marked the end of Teb's traveling and partying days, but his daughter, Dessa, now nineteen years old, had grown up in a life of trade. Honest goods passing from one cargo hold to another often opened avenues for the exchange of less honest information, and follow those less-than-honest leads could lead to big credits. It was a lucrative business if you knew who to talk to, and it was a far sight safer than the bartering of other illicit desirables.

Accustomed to life on the move, Dessa hitched rides from planet to planet on the ships of her various business companions and acquaintances. Her father's trader friend, Zek, occasionally checked in on her. He viewed her as more of a niece than a business partner, making him an invaluable ally in the hardest of times. With years of experience in trade, negotiation, and the pursuit of low-risk leads, the addition of a little thievery to her repertoire made for a far more stable income while living life with no definitive place to call home. While her pink skin gives her away among certain crowds, her parents' ill luck has turned her desires away from the lavish and carnal interests of most Zeltrons. Pheromones and passive allure can be helpful with particularly difficult clients, but, in her mind, only one thing can take the place of keenly honed negotiating skills. Where words, telepathy, and sex appeal fail, a reliable blaster always seems to do the trick.
 
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RP: Mistress Of The House
Status: Active

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Name: Hazel MacNarry
Age: 22
Height: 5'5"
Hair Color: Dark Blonde
Eye Color: Blue
Sexual Orientation: "Straight" (as far as she knows)
Occupation: House Servant
Marital Status: Never Wed
Physique: Slim, Sturdy
Personality Traits: Quiet, Skittish, Intelligent, Unobtrusive, Observant
 
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RP: Star Trek: Babel
Status: Active

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CUSTOM ART, NOT FOR REUSE.

Name: Tamrin Emharr
Race: Velpine
Age: 35
Height: 180 cm (5'11")
Hair Color: Dark Brown (thick, shoulder length, pulled into a low ponytail)
Facial Hair: Stubble, also dark brown
Eye Colors: Heterochromia: Left - Light Hazel, Right - Blue
Skin Color: Dark copper
Birthplace: ?
Position: Leader of The Lost/The Abizme
Notable Features: Small gold hoop on the tip of his right ear, gold stud on the lower lobe of his left ear

Bio:
The descendant of scholars whose knowledge has been passed down through the generations, in spite of the war, Tamrin is a charismatic leader among the Lost, both to his own people and to those they've met along the way. His cool, easygoing manner paired with his charm, confidence, and quick thinking make him approachable and a respected leader. To those who know him personally, he is a loving person with a kind heart and a strong sense of loyalty. His sense of humor is a jovial one when he's able to escape from the stress of leading his people and actually enjoy himself. In a tense situation, he is resourceful, intelligent, observant, and decisive. One of his defining characteristics is that he leads with a gentle voice.
 
RP: Rock Dodgers
Status: Discontinued


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Name: Lita Rossmus
Age: 32
Height: 5'4"
Hair Color: Red
Eye Color: Light Blue
Occupation: Co-Pilot
Personality: Sharp-witted, quick thinker, smartmouthed, spitfire, a better driver than you, eye-roller
Special Features: "It's rude to stare" tattooed in two parts under her breasts; a starburst salamander tattooed across her full back with the tail trailing down her spine, ending between the dimples on her lower back











-----

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Name: Cassia "Cass" Landers
Age: 35
Height: 5'6"
Hair Color: Dark Brown
Eye Color: Dark Slate Gray
Occupation: Medic
Personality: Serious, focused, direct, gentle, enjoys sketching ('to keep her fingers busy'), would rather not argue but if she must, she'll win.
Special Features: Dark eye makeup to hide the fact that she doesn't sleep much. Suffers from chronic nightmares and insomnia.
 
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RP: For Gold And Glory
Status: Active

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Name: Adelaide Cooke
Age: 26
Height: 5'4"
Hair Color: Blonde
Eye Color: Slate Blue
Occupation: Heiress, busybody, unwilling abductee
Personality: Dainty, polite, occasionally *politely* defensive, talkative, active, inquisitive
Special Features: Owns a different hat for every day of the month -- and two for holidays.

Bio:
Adelaide grew up in the lap of luxury as the only daughter to the town's shrewdest investor. The family manor sprawled over several acres of hilltop by the sea, complete with gardens, stables, and all the servants one family needed to tend to every whim. She'd never had to lift a finger when she didn't want to, and when she did, the finger was perfectly manicured. Her hobbies included gossiping, hosting parties, horseback riding, and occasionally when no one was looking, watching the stableboys work. Multiple times, her parents had attempted to arrange a marriage for her, but every time, something mysteriously went awry just as their courtship reached a head, and her suitor refused to marry her. Strangely, Adelaide was never bothered by the turn of events, and her parents chalked it up to a stroke of bad luck. Only Adelaide and her handmaiden knew why every eligible bachelor turned tail at the last minute -- it was a well-guarded secret. If anyone found out, then she'd be forced to marry come hell or high water, and that wasn't something she was about to let happen.
Despite the property's view of the sea, Adelaide preferred life on the land. One of her earliest memories as a child was watching helplessly as a wave crashed onto the shore and dragged her younger brother out into the dark waters, swallowed by the undertow as the salty air whipped around her. It rained for several days straight after the incident, and the buildings nearest to the shore flooded. Even still, decades after the incident, storms and crashing waves make her feel uneasy, and she still has nightmares of her lungs filling with seawater as the world around her goes dark.
 
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RP: A Dark Angel's Assistant
Status: Active

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Name: Tessa Martin (Legal name: Theresa)
Age: 27
Height: 5'4"
Hair Color: Pink (naturally chestnut brown)
Eye Color: Dark brown
Occupation: Journalist
Personality: Assertive, inquisitive, deductive, challenges authority when she feels she's in the right, trailblazer, unconventional thinker, skeptic.
Special Features: Tattoo of a fox with a pink rose wreath arching over its head on her left shoulder blade.
Pet: Cat -- Black shorthair with blue eyes named Athena; about five years old; enjoys basking in the sun and batting the potted cactus (~6" tall pincushion cactus); dislikes belly rubs and bananas.
External Contacts: Mother; Jade (friend, F)
 
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RP: Of Sleight Hand And Brazen Blade
Status: Active

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Name: Saraya Duskborne
Race: Human
Age: 28
Height: 5'3"
Hair Color: Warm Black
Eye Color: Deep Brown
Occupation: Thief
Sexuality: Bi/Pan
Personality: Mischievous, socially flippant, takes work seriously, a careful planner, will steal your jewelry (and possibly also your man)
Special Features: Three piercings in each ear (three lower lobe studs: Two gold nuggets, one gold nugget with inlaid sapphire); Carries two concealed daggers, one on each hip.
Character Overview: Saraya loves to mess around, but when it comes to the arts of thievery and stealth, she's one of the most meticulous individuals you'll find (or, ideally, just miss). She doesn't stay in one place for very long, and she questions generosity. After all, everything comes at a price. She fancies herself both a lover and a fighter, but she'd sooner run off while you're looking the other way (likely with something of yours in hand) than actually fight you.
Her one and only lover, Aven, was beaten murdered and her body placed in their sleeping area for Saraya to find. She never found out why Aven had been attacked, but she suspects it may have been a dispute that was escalated because of their partnership.
 
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RP: Death Or Destiny
Status: Active

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Name: Solemnia, Queen Of The Divine Diadem
Age: 19, early 20s (demigoddess)
Hair Color: Golden
Eye Color: Sky blue with a golden sunburst at the center (example)
Height: 5'9"
Strengths: Cunning, knowledge, tactics
Home: Sagacitum
 
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RP: The Harvester Chronicles (OOC Reference Page)
Status: Discontinued

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Name: Amala Wood
Age: 29
Height: 5'5"
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Black
Nationality: British
School Of The Verbis Imperium: Enchantment
Other Abilities: Psionic Magic (Soul-Blessed by Shakti)
 
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RP: Frostbite
Status: Active

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Name: Macy Amerlyn Brown
Nickname: Mite
Age: 30
Body type: Fit/Athletic
Height: 5'5"
Hair color: Dark Blonde
Eye color: Light brown
Occupation: Team Geologist
Personality: No-nonsense, astute, reserved, quick-thinker, work- and team-oriented

Daveed Haddad, Team Climatologist, 34 y/o, Middle Eastern complexion, cropped black hair
Malia Kalogeropoulos, Team Chemist, 32 y/o, olive skin, tightly curled dark brown hair usually pulled into a bun
 
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RP: Wild Frontier
Status: Active

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Name: Tala Seek
Age: 28
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 130 pounds
Hair Color: Red
Eye Color: Brown
Appearance: A life of survival and living off the land has sculpted a brutally beautiful woman. Windburnt cheeks from exposure to the elements frame intense eyes and the gaze of a hunter. She moves with lithe grace, toned muscles controlling deliberate actions and quiet steps. Her diet is lean, though not lacking. Fish and game have provided her with nourishment and warmth through her long years spent in solitude, and despite the dirt that shadows her features and the harsh angles of her silhouette, she is in remarkably good health.

Background:
"Seek, and you shall find."
Those were the words engraved on the pendant around Tala's neck. It was all she had left of her parents, save for some camping supplies. They had gone out on a hunting trip, the same as they did every year, but the spring thaw would not be seeing them home this year, as it had for as long as she could remember. Bears can be dangerous and unpredictable creatures, especially so when startled and starving. Tala's mother grabbed her by the arm and ran -- the one thing you aren't supposed to do. Her father stood behind, a final, futile attempt to defend his family. His screams were the last they heard of him as the kodiak bore down upon him. Shattered, stranded, and scared, Tala and her mother returned to their cabin. Grief overtook her, followed by sickness. The lack of a will to live was what finally took her, in the end, leaving Tala alone in the woods.

With no way to navigate home and no one to see her there if she did manage to return, Tala settled down in her family's cabin and did what she could to learn how to survive in the wild. Over the years, she got the hang of things. Tattered field guides taught her survival medicine. Memories of bowhunting gave her a head start on feeding herself. Everything else came by means of trial and error. The cabin fell into disrepair around her, beaten by the elements year after year. Some shelter was better than nothing at all, and even a partial roof and drafty walls were enough to mean the difference between life and death in the heart of winter. It was a harsh life of solitude, but it was life, and that was a far sight better than the alternative.
 
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RP: Oddities and Entities
Status: Active

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Name: Diane Blackwood
Age: 37
Height: 5'7"
Hair Color: Blonde
Eye Color: Gray-Blue
Occupation: Paranormal Pest Controller
 
RP: Snow and Sagas
Status: Active

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Name: Sigrún Árnadóttir
Age: 25
Height: 5'5"
Hair Color: Light Blonde
Eye Color: Light Blue
Occupation: Outlaw
Personality: Headstrong, arrogant, fiercely independent, operates by her own rules
 
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RP: Shadow Guardians
Status: Active

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Given Name: Oleander Larix
Human Alias: Leanne Larch
Age: 28
Height: 5'7"
Hair Color: Teal with Sage Green tips
Eye Color: Sage Green
Occupation: Fae Guardian, posing as an Editor for New Leaf Publishing
Notable Features: Brown full-sleeve vine and flowers tattoo on right arm; horns and pointed ears hidden by a glamour and wings bound under clothing while in public
Personality Traits: Outgoing, jocular, approachable, sarcastically witty, skeptical yet friendly

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Name: Damien Blaese
Age: 27
Height: 5'11"
Hair Color: Dark Blond
Eye Color: Gray
Occupation: Editorial Assistant
Notable Features: Semicolon tattoo on his left wrist
Personality Traits: Chatty but quiet, observant, diligent, enjoys going out with friends, perpetually unlucky
 
RP: The Spectral Hyacinth (OOC Thread)
Status: Abandoned

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Historical Background
"Gratitude. That's what you ought to have. If you've never known life in the Rubble, thank the stars for the hand you were dealt and rest easy knowing you're one of the lucky ones."

***​

Maps that still bother to mark the derelict hunk of rock orbiting in the narrow habitable zone around the red giant, Meranos, call it Hephasia, but planets like Hephasia rarely warrant a proper name. Most just call them what they are: Rubble. Abandoned, near-lifeless planets covered by collapsed, once-great cities that, in ages past, reached for the stars. Some of their former inhabitants found new homes among them. Others crumbled in their hastened scramble to escape terra firma. In either case, someone always got left behind. The unwanted, the underprivileged, the unfortunately fortunate. Those who remained and their progeny carved out new lives on those decaying planets. Their once-flourishing societies devolved into barbaric factions, loosely-organized criminal protectorates, and roving bands of scavengers trying to carve out something new and selfish as the bones of civilization collapsed around them. As generations passed, the dust settled and the seeds of community began to grow again, rising, tattered and worn, from the wreckage of an abundant past.

Oases sprung up, scattered across the scarred landscape as bastions of security. The land between them remained dangerous, to be crossed at the risk of those who dared with no hope of rescue from raiders, the elements, or the hardened fauna that had adapted to live in the unforgiving environment. These settlements were small, by necessity. Too many inhabitants and the populace grew unruly as resources stretched to meet everyone's needs. Too few, and the town was overrun by outside forces. Most sanctuaries rose and fell in a matter of years, keeping even the most fortunate of the unfortunate constantly on the move.

Callum Price was born in the heat of summer to a woman whose face had seen more dust storms than rain and whose body had endured the hardships of several lifetimes by the time she died at age forty-one. Whoever had been her sire was destined to remain a mystery, but by the way her mother had absently touched the scar on her lip every time she'd been asked, Callum decided he likely wasn't a man she'd wanted to meet. The early years of her life were spent tethered to her mother, roaming the scorched barrens outside Hell's Gate — a mangled skeleton of collapsed skyscrapers, overrun by gangs of scrappers and raiders tied up in a generations-old turf war. The barrens, her mother had said, once were farmland. It seemed an ideal enough tale. Worn-out caves bored into the sandstone cliffs that stretched above a parched riverbed were connected by narrow, sloping trails. Somehow, the people who used to live there before had used them for growing food, but Callum had never figured out how.

The settlement of New Peat had built itself into a similar, though much larger hole in that canyon wall. Far downriver from Hell's Gate and well-defended from those who might seek to cause unrest, Callum and her mother lived several comfortable years in relative safety and luxury. They had food, water, monthly baths, and a community that taught Callum how to hold her own. She picked up a knack for tinkering from the local engineers, who had devised a way to bring water up from the ground and to defend the settlement from raiding bands with hidden traps and armaments. No amount of their clever engineering was enough to save the little town when raiders wielding explosives decided to make a move on the settlement for its abundant water supply. Anyone who got in the way was killed, and anyone of value was taken prisoner.

Over a decade of her life was spent shackled to a cavern wall at night and working at gunpoint during the day. "Jailbrains" the brutes called them. They thought it was a clever moniker.

Years of forcing brilliant minds to work under constant surveillance with a strict no-talking order inevitably led to creative solutions. The lot of them developed a means of communication through covert taps and subtle hand motions. Without a word, they planned their escape. Several years of stowing springs, gears, and other small pieces in their clothes when pretending to scratch an itch or dropping bits of material onto the floor by their feet and tucking them into their pant legs eventually gave them enough spare parts to build what they needed to make their escape. Three of them died in their attempted break, and Callum was left badly scarred by a premature detonation.

The jailbreak collapsed the cavern and was loud enough to be heard up and down the canyon. The two remaining survivors fled on foot, blinded by the light they hadn't seen in years and on aching legs, unaccustomed to more than shuffling about in their cramped workspaces. Nearly a week of running at night and hiding during the day brought them to the fringes of Angel's Landing, another tangle of bridges and buildings, this time at the edge of a hot sea whose water stretched out to the far horizon and beyond. It was the only spaceport remaining on the whole planet, or so the stories had said. Callum and Titus, the only other survivor from the prison, staggered into the city on aching feet and swore they were hallucinating. Buildings had walls with doors. Roofs had no holes. The streets were littered with debris and detritus, still, but surely, this place was some kind of paradise.

They found someone capable of tending Callum's wounds, and they worked off their dues over the next several months. Titus found permanent work with the doctor who'd helped them, and Callum found trade in the salvage yards, picking things apart and putting them back together again. Her unique approach to repairs, eye for odd details, and predilection for giving orders rather than taking them earned her a sub-director position after a few short years. When someone finally offered her a chance to leave the Rubble behind, she accepted the offer with gusto, said goodbye to Titus and his new wife and child with a tear in her eye, and never looked back.




Personality
"If you don't put a little heart into whatever you do, why do it in the first place? A life without passion is as good as no life at all."

***​

Her deadpan might be frigid enough to cool a raging sun, but the love in her heart could melt a comet. Callum held onto her mother's nickname for her, "Gidget," and she slowly let other people she trusted to bring the name back into the light. People skills are her strong suit as long as those skills involve telling others what to do or interacting outside of the sphere of responsibility. She's accustomed to being alone with her thoughts and often spends time silently tinkering with pieces she's collected and decided to fit together, sometimes without even realizing there are other people present in the room with her.

Years of hardship and constant travel have hampered numerous domestic skills, most notably cooking. Callum's favorite food is jerky, and the tougher, the better. She's a menace in the kitchen, and never once in her life has she produced anything even remotely edible. Her migrant lifestyle did, however, introduce her to myriad languages, dialects, and (most importantly) interjections. She has a diverse vocabulary for swearing, and she's not afraid to use it.

Compared to other spacers, Callum is... small. As some might put it, impressively so. She never let her height limit her abilities. She can easily best most people in an arm-wrestling match and prides herself as much in her tough exterior as she does in having retained her humanity through the storms she's had to weather. She's shrewdly practical when it comes to tasks, but her frugality falls away rapidly when it comes to making sure others have what they need. It is a deeply-held personal belief of hers that there's enough suffering in the universe without little things piling up on top of it all. Her voice may be harsh when work is on the line, but outside of the line of duty, the stony exterior rapidly falls away.


Callum is quick to care and slow to open up. She'll share what she has to help another, but it takes a fair amount of trust and time spent getting to know her before she'll open up about where she's been and what she needs. Despite her willingness to make friends, venturing beyond acquaintances takes work, and while she'll adamantly defend the "close familiarity of silence," she'll never admit the depth of the loneliness that comes with it.



  • Gujarati base, pronunciation is pseudo-Slavic with rolled r's, accent in basic is similar
    • khota cera paher nakami juntha bola — Rambling oath of frustration with someone(s); "useless two-faced liars"
    • rakayd(a) — Bastard(s)
    • Holopad — A data-storage device
 
RP: Reawakening
Status: Active

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  • The Old Gods have gone quiet
    but they are never forgotten


    NICKNAME

    AGE

    GENDER

    RACE

    PRONOUNS

    HANDEDNESS

    OCCUPATION
    Bella

    25

    Female

    Human

    She/Her

    Right

    Barmaid
    ⠀​
  • 𝖯𝖤𝖱𝖲𝖮𝖭𝖠𝖫𝖨𝖳𝖸⠀​

    AFFABLE
    CLEVER
    STRONG-WILLED
    TENACIOUS


    Arabella "Bella" Brewer is the jewel of the family tavern. Her witty conversation keeps customers happy and drinks flowing.

    She's quick with a joke or a lilting acapella tune to brighten a room, and her skill at conversation is matched by her willingness to sit and listen. More than once, her charm has caught the attention of patrons, but none has captured her heart in return.

    More than a pretty face and a delightful personality, she is a resourceful girl. Her quick thinking has helped fix leaky basins, drafty windows, and creaky floorboards.

    LIKES⠀•⠀walks in the woods, sunsets, mysteries, heady spiced wine

    DISLIKES⠀•⠀not knowing what to say, bold drunkards, the feeling of being watched, being cold
  • 𝖠𝖯𝖯𝖤𝖠𝖱𝖠𝖭𝖢𝖤⠀​

    HEIGHT

    HAIR

    EYES

    SKIN

    BUILD

    VOICE
    5'3"

    Dark Brown

    Slate Blue

    Fair with Light Freckles

    Small, Feminine, and Able-Bodied

    Smooth, Fiery Mezzo-Soprano


    Light freckles at the edges of her cheekbones and atop her shoulders; Hair generally drawn up in a braided bun; Burn scar on the back of her right hand from a hot stove

    Favors a heavy woolen skirt and a soft spun underdress, an apron with sizeable pockets, sturdy boots, and a heavy woolen traveling cloak in cooler weather

    Broad-shouldered for her small frame; Strong arms and callused hands

    Tucks a piece of cinnamon in her bun so that her hair smells like the sweet spice when she lets it down for bed.

    Often hums to herself
  • RETRIEVED ARTIFACTS⠀​


    Candelabra -- Found in the old church ruins near home

    UNKNOWN

    UNKNOWN

    UNKNOWN

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    ABILITIES⠀​


    HOLY LIGHT⠀•⠀Insight into the beliefs held by the Old One's followers. Candles in the candelabra are untouched by the elements.

    UNKNOWN⠀•⠀TBD

    UNKNOWN⠀•⠀TBD

    UNKNOWN⠀•⠀TBD

    • HONORED TRADITIONS

      The Brewer sisters have spent their whole lives in the tiny town of Kellspire, working at their parents' inn and tavern, and stealing away for walks in the surrounding woods whenever they could. Now, even as adults, they honor the ritual of retreating to the woodland trails for a few moments of solace whenever they're able.

      Along the meandering deer trails, at the center of a long-abandoned coppice, there lies an abandoned and deteriorating building presumed to be an old church. Little remains of it aside from crumbling walls, a fragment of what was once a second story, now open to the young canopy above, and one remarkably intact rose window. As children, the girls used to play in the ruins, climbing the cobblestones and creating forts in the shrubs and undergrowth that had replaced the decayed floorboards. One evening, feeling particularly reminiscent on their walk, they return to the derelict church to see what has changed over the past couple of decades.

      THE OLD CHURCH

      This time, when they arrive at the old church, they find that the low shrubs have since grown into full bushes, a couple of the trees have succumbed to storms over the years, and a large section of wall has fallen. The impressive leaded glass window, however, remains seemingly untouched by time. The sisters decide to explore the ruins again as they did when they were younger, hiking up their skirts and climbing the walls in the soft evening light. It's a joyful experience, escaping adulthood to play as if they had never aged, tossing berries at one another and hiding under branches.

      Underneath one of the massive bushes near the front of the building, covered by a net of brambles, one of the sisters finds a trapdoor. They clear away the debris and drop down into a shallow room, dimly lit by the filtered sunlight angling down through the tinted glass. Within the small crypt, they find a series of small trinkets — a strange metal box, some dusty old glassware, a few coins, and a shriveled candle fused to its brass holder. Intrigued, they each take a trinket and return home before the sun falls much farther.

      GHOSTS IN THE NIGHT

      That night, the sisters both have strange dreams. When they wake, the trinkets they retrieved from the church cellar have moved from where they were left the previous night to sit on their bedside tables. A little uneasy but otherwise feeling no different than the day before, they go about their usual business.

      Over the next few days, the dreams continue, playing out the biography of two different characters, both somehow related to a long-dormant deity (related how is up to us to determine — a priestess, a cleric, an oracle, a demon/angel, etc.). As the dreams progress, each sister begins to feel like the stories they see in their sleep are introductions of a sort. The next time they meet for their walk, they tell each other about the strange dreams, shocked and relieved to find that the other has been experiencing something similar. They decide that the best remedy is to return to the church and replace the items they stole from the cellar.

      ECHOES OF THE PAST

      When they make it back to the church, both sisters are hit with a sharp headache as soon as they enter the grove of young trees that surround the ruins. They stagger and clutch their heads, closing their eyes to brace against the pain. When they open them again and look back to the crumbling building, they see a vision of it whole once again, a ghost of the past overlaid on the truth of the present. Too far in to turn back now, they approach the church and look for the door embedded in the dirt, now below the hazy mirage of wide, polished floorboards.

      As they reach for the metal loop to pull the door open, both women hear a voice in their heads — the voice of the character from their dreams. They learn that the fragments of the spirits devoted to the Old Gods once worshipped within these walls are held in the artifacts that the women took. Every night spent beside those items have allowed the spirits to grow closer to the women. Should they choose to follow the path of the long-forgotten deity and its followers of yore, they will be blessed with power as the deity is slowly wakened from its slumber. Artifacts like the ones they unknowingly retrieved and gave energy to through remembrance are scattered across the land. Finding more of them and bringing memories back of the deity will rouse it from its dormancy.

      The women have a choice: Return the items to the cellar and try to forget all that has transpired or pick up the memories of the past and piece together the identity of the Old One whose house of worship was the playground of their youth with the help of the spirits of those who gave their love, lives, and energy in exchange for protection of this once-great god.

    • ROSALIND BREWER⠀•⠀Sister

      Two years Arabella's elder, Rosalind has been her lifelong confidant, partner in crime, and rock through all of life's storms.

      TBD⠀•⠀Relation

      Descriptions to come.

      TBD⠀•⠀Relation

      Descriptions to come.

      TBD⠀•⠀Relation

      Descriptions to come.
 
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