꧁༄༄༆༄༄꧂
Name: Genevieve Pérez

Age: 23

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: Straight

Nationality: French

Face claim: pin.it/693At6s1V

Outfit: pin.it/1rhSjm5fq

Extra: pin.it/2ds0gKguY

Weapon: pin.it/3aaXNOmE8

Personality:
Genevieve’s is very gentle, even with the people who have hurt and threatened her, there is always a sort of kindness about her. She is compassionate most towards children, even when they are unkind as well, she doesn’t mind, silently correcting them and showing them what it is to be gentle.

Role on Ship: Doctor- specializes in handling a wide range of medical situations from routine checkups to serious emergencies.

Fears:
⎈ Nyctophobia: Fear of the dark
⎈ Lyssophobia: Fear of going insane
⎈ Athazagoraphobia: The fear of being forgotten, forgetting, being replaced, ext.

History:

Genevieve grew up on the countryside in France. It was a nice enough area, with a well known school, kind neighbors. Although Gen never did meet any of them. She was a prisoner in her own house, her parents keeping her to homeschool and shape how they wanted. To them, the world was a toxin, the people parasites. In their minds, if they were to teach Genevieve, she wouldn’t end up a parasite.
They pushed her, more than what was healthy, berating and screaming at her if she failed. At five years old, Genevieve was taught that emotions and empathy made her weak, and if she cried, she was told to be logical, and sent down into the cellar as the most severe punishment. The cellar was where she spent most of her days, the darkness crawling into the depths of her mind, consuming her.
Soon, she began going insane, the dark creating figures in her mind her vision forcing humanoid creatures to blind her vision, the blood rushing in her ears mimicking whispers and cries.

She tried to grow accustomed to it, but the need for light always stuck with her. When she turned 18, she finally had enough, packing what she could, she snuck out of her house and ran, as far as humanly possible without stopping. It nearly drove her into several injuries, but the endurance she built over surviving with her parents kept her going. Once she made it far enough, she was finally able to start her own life.

Genevieve began to go to a real school, studying medicine. Her mother always pushes for her to learn how to heal people, her father teaching her about weapons and how to fight. Guns were her favored choice, and after she got a job as a floor girl in a small bakery, she saved enough to not only pay for school, but buy her own set of guns.
She now works as a freelance healer, staying on the seas under command of a captain. Gen always has matches in her pocket, making sure to never be in darkness again.


Likes:
⎈ Coffee
⎈ Learning more about weaponry
⎈ Nightshade Flowers
⎈ Animals, all of them
⎈ Honor
⎈ Stories

Dislikes:
⎈ Royalty
⎈ Dealing with fools
⎈ Dishonor
⎈ Most People
⎈ Shrill and high sounds
⎈ The Dark

Quote: “A large part of who I am, is who I am not.”

Theme Song: “Absence” by Rio Romeo
꧁༄༄༆༄༄꧂

Name: Edric Blake

Age: 37

Gender: Male

Pronouns: He/Him

Sexuality: Straight

Nationality: Welsh

Face claim:


Outfit:


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Extra:


Personality:
Edric Blake is a man carved by labour, not glory. He speaks in short phrases, works long hours, and trusts actions over any kind of oath. His loyalty is hard-won, but once earned, it's ironclad. He doesn't waste words, not because he's unfriendly, but because he doesn't believe in beating around the bush. You'll know where you stand with him, and if you don't, he's more than happy to show you.

He's the type to fix a sail with his bare hands while runs from his knuckles, or to quietly finish someone else's task without ever claiming credit. His presence among the crew is solid and grounding. Even if you're not his friend, he's someone you can rely on. When the storm hits, when the ropes snap, when the captain calls for boarding, it's Edric at the front.

On land, he feels heavier. Less alive. The sea to him makes sense, the endless work, the wind and salt, but the land asks questions he doesn't know how to answer. So he rarely takes shore leave and when he does, or is forced to, he'll drink, fight and wander until the tide pulls him back.

He's not soft but he'll happily break his back for the crew before he breaks their spirits. When he gives an order, it's not to throw weight, but to keep them alive and they know it. He'd never ask anyone to do something he wouldn't happily do himself.

Role on Ship: Boatswain- Senior deck officer responsible for the rigging, sails, anchors, tools, and physical upkeep of the ship. Oversees deckhands, ensures the ship is seaworthy, and leads boarding parties during combat.

Fears:
He says he doesn't care, but he does. His tattoo, Byth Digon, is more than a memory. He fears failing the crew, being too slow, not strong enough. He works until his bones ache because he's terrified of stopping and realising he's just a man.

History:
Born in a coastal village in Pembrokeshire, Southwest Wales, called Porthgain, Edric Blake grew up with the scent of salt in his lungs and calluses before he could write his name. His father was a shipwright, his mother a quiet woman whose mind began to fray long before her body did. Edric spent his youth repairing roofs, hauling nets, and learning how to fix what others broke — both in the home and on the docks.

By twelve, he was the one holding the house together. His father’s health had failed, the coin dried up, and his mother no longer remembered what day it was. Edric cooked, worked, patched holes, and bartered labor for scraps — never asking for help, and never expecting any.

At fourteen, with the roof sealed and the cold creeping in, he stood at the door with a satchel and a decision. His mother, watching the fire, smiled softly and said, “You’ve done enough.” He answered without turning. “Never enough.”

She died while he was gone. He didn’t find out until a year later.

He signed onto a merchant brig bound for Bristol under a false name. For a while, the work made sense — rigging, hauling, watching the coast change with each tide. But war has no interest in peace, and it wasn’t long before his crew was pressed into the Royal Navy by force.

He endured. Did his job. Took orders until the wrong one was given. He refused to lash a boy half-dead already. It earned his a length of chain, ten lashes, and the red-hot brand seared into his ribs, low on the left side. The iron left a deep ‘R’ burned into him, a mark for refractory conduct. They branded him for disobedience. He wears it like a mark they failed to make deep enough.

He deserted not long after. Slipped away in the chaos of a storm. Drifted from ship to ship for a few years, choosing jobs that paid and captains who kept their voices low. Eventually, he found the Gunpowder Storm, and for once, he stayed.

Now Boatswain, Edric commands the sails, oversees the rigging, and leads the crew in the ship’s bones and heartbeat. He works without complaint and fights without hesitation, first over the rail when boarding steel bites, always with the weight of iron and memory behind his swing.

Likes:
- Leading a good shanty
- Salt-cured meat
- A strong storm
- The call of 'gulls in the morning
- the sound of the sailcloth catching the wind
- whistling

Dislikes:
- Idle hands
- Half-done work
- Being called 'sir'
- Drunken recklessness

Quote: “There's rest at the end of that rope, boy, not halfway through it!”

Theme Song: 'Hoist The Colours' Bass Singers version