Iracebeth

The Golden age of Piracy

@Dark light @Adeline

Ishaan might come in like a wrecking ball and take the fire sticks and kick you both out. Since we are at port. Go buy supplies!! I should have a post up today.

@Tally Dor

My fire sticks☹️(⊙_⊙)

To Hold Back The Dark

@Adeline is Astrid part of the Lightbearers or Grim? Its fine that she's a human and on the Grim side, I have one too, it just needs to be specified!

Otherwise if she's a Lightbearer, she would have to be pure of heart to gain the Light Goddess' blessing

@HyliaIncarnate

I suppose she would be on the light bearers side of the fight, but I was wondering if she could be more of a middle party? At some point she would end up joining the light bearers, but right now she is kind of isolated from everything. My thought was that she would be forced to understand what was happening and choose. But I’ll do whatever you think should be done!

To Hold Back The Dark

My Character

✧𝒜𝒮𝒯ℛℐ𝒟✧

---

18-5’6-Mistmoor

Humans

---

Personality:
✧ Highly Sarcastic

• Astrid uses sarcasm in nearly any situation, whether it is called for or not. It is not meant to be rude, in fact, sarcasm is used almost as a mechanism to hide how she really feels about a situation. Often times it comes off as something of a joke, something to not be taken seriously, which makes it easier for the young woman to digest what is going on around her.

✧ Compassionate

• While sarcasm is a large trait in Astrid, so is compassion. She tries very hard to see other people’s perspectives, even if she doesn’t voice it. Most of her compassion and gentle ways are shown towards children, she always has had a soft spot for kids, finding their innocence of the world pure, and good, causing her to give them more lenience and compassion.

✧Resilience

• Astrid is very resilient. She works to push past difficult situations in the moment in order to reach a long term goal. Often times this can affect other people negatively, because they need time to process whatever happened to hinder productivity, but it is also necessary in certain situations when it is dangerous to stop going.

---

History:
Astrid was raised by a single mother in a small cabin located on the mountains of Mistmoor. There was always a feeling of dread in the home, knowing that something was wrong. Growing up, Astrid had one sibling, a younger brother who was two years old. One day, he was running around near the cabin, chasing what Astrid guessed to have been a snake or lizard, and while no one was looking, the young boy fell to his death. While of course, Astrid was only five years old, she blamed herself for the accident, and along with it, came her mother blaming her as well.

The weight of guilt that settled heavily on Astrid's small shoulders, a burden that seemed cruel for her tender age. As the days turned into weeks, the atmosphere in the cabin grew colder, not just from the chill of the mountain air but from the unspoken tension that filled every corner. Her mother often withdrew into herself, her eyes clouded with grief and anger that Astrid could neither understand nor alleviate.

The shadows of the cabin felt alive, whispering secrets of loss and blame. Astrid spent countless hours exploring the woods around their home, searching for solace among the towering pines and babbling brooks, but nothing would silence the darkness.

In every instance of her life, where there was no light to be had, Astrid found her mind creating figures, humanoid demons in the dark that would hunch over, whispering cruel secrets to the girl. Of course, this was only her mind, the blood rushing in her ears.
These were the nights that she discovered special abilities, ones that helped her calm down, slow her blood pressure and ease her mind.

As the seasons turned, the isolation of Mistmoor began to take its toll. Astrid’s mother became increasingly erratic, her moods shifting like the weather. Some days, she would cling to Astrid, seeking comfort in her presence, while on others, she would lash out, her grief morphing into anger that Astrid could not comprehend. “You let him go,” her mother would hiss during those dark moments, words that cut deeper than any physical wound.

As she grew older, the weight of those childhood memories began to shift, and she found herself wrestling with the life she had at home. She longed to confront her mother, to break through the thick walls of silence that surrounded them, but as Astrid woke up on her 15th birthday, she was as met with only a cold breeze.

There was no other chance to reconcile with her mother, for the woman had left, no explanation, no note, she was just…gone.

Astrid learned quickly that she needed to provide for herself, and with the help of Argo, she began hunting. After a year of exploring the mountains and animal anatomy, she began to sell hides and extra meat. Next to her cabin, she built a small shop where people would come in to buy food and hides for clothes or blankets.
Eventually, she also began to sell small wooden carvings, having picked up on at least one artistic habit. She never explored her more unique abilities unless it was in benefit of her business.

---

Spells and Abilities:

✧ Hemokinesis-blood manipulation

• This ability allows a person to control and manipulate blood, whether it’s their own or that of others. She found this ability one night when her candle went out and she began seeing figures in the dark. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the sound of her blood in her own ears, and the more she did, the calmer she became. But, if she does this for too long, her blood begins to thin and she will black out. She constantly needs iron intake. She has never tried this on another person, and rarely uses it.

✧ Tracking

• Once she was left alone, she would spend hours in the wooded area on the mountains, though there was very little, it was enough for her to focus so much on nature that she began to practically understand what the animals would do next. Other than the physical strain of being sore the next day for hunting so long, there isn’t another drawback.

✧Neurokinesis- Nerve Manipulation

• This allows her to influence the nervous system. If she knew about it and focused on learning it, she could alter sensations, control movement, induce paralysis, or even affect emotional or cognitive states. If she did know that this was an ability she possessed, had she ever attempted to manipulate someone with a stronger will or mental fortitude, the backlash could affect her instead, causing pain, confusion, or temporary loss of her own motor functions.

---

Weapons or tools:
✧ Bow and Arrow

• This bow is a longbow and is made from elm. It is nearly five feet long with a strong made from goat sinew and flax. It has small intricate carvings on it of spirals because one day she was just bored. The arrows are made from birch and the fletching is from goose feathers while the sharp tip is made from animal bone.

✧ Hunting Knife

• The blade is made from the bone on a goat, with added ridges to make cutting easier. It is around 7 inches long and has a tapered point and a slight curved edge. The hilt is made from the same bone and wrapped in leather for grip.

✧ Wooden Staff

• This staff used to be a large branch, but Astrid found it and brought it home, sanding it down and carving the top into a spiral. It is around 1-1/2 inches in width and about 5ft and 8in tall. There is no real reason for her to have this other than hiking, she just thinks that it looks cool.

✧ Twin Daggers

• The blade is similar to the hunting knife, made from goat bones. Each blade is around 13 inches long while that handle is once again wrapped in leather. It is smooth, no ridges.

---

Miscellaneous Information:
✧Astrid has a large dog by the name of Argo. He was found by her a few days after her mother left, and the two quickly became friends－pin.it/1z55VwU2X

✧Astrid has a tattoo down her spine— pin.it/6v8V2w9am

✧She is mostly unaware of everything going on I’m the world outside of her home, she only hears brief murmurs from passersby travelers who speak of the battle between light and darkness.

✧Her father was a grim, that is why she has some abilities, but they are not mastered and difficult to use because she is part human. She is unaware of her origin, and lives alone in Mistmoor with humans, like normal.

✧ At 13 years old she began learning how to carve and often made dolls for herself. She now sells wooden carvings of figures and runes in her shop.

Okay here she is, I can change anything if needed, I’m very flexible!

To Hold Back The Dark

Radical, thank you (☞ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞

To Hold Back The Dark

…may I have a dog as a pet?

different words for the "f" word (for Adeline)

This is wonderful

To Hold Back The Dark

Oh, okay! I’m that case I’ll start working on a character, thank you!

To Hold Back The Dark

Hello! I know that this is late, and it is super chill if all the spots are filled, but I was wondering if I could possibly join? Again- it’s totally okay if not!

The Black Veil

Dahlia has never been one for the dramatics. She kept to herself, kept quiet, tried not to rock the boat, and when she did that, everything seemed to be…calmer.
Or, perhaps calm is the wrong word. The word she may be looking for is ‘trepidation’
Yes…yes that seemed right. To know that something bad has happened…that is will happen again, and yet, there was nothing to be done to solve it. So, all that is left is to be calm.

Dahlia can’t entirely remember when she last arrived in Berlin. Was a year ago? A few months? Maybe only a few weeks. Time seemed to move so odd around here, everything and everyone moving in a monotonous manner, the bloodshed too much for the human spirit to push through.
The young woman had come from France, carrying what little she could, hoping for a better life, and now? Well, it is like she is trapped in another prison, a place that drains the life from a person.

Stepping out into the street, Dahlia sighs softly, the air dead, the area empty. She wondered if there was a day that Berlin had joy, had hope…although if there was, it was long ago, the memories of jubilation extinguished from the inhabitants.

Dahlia exhales softly, taking out a lighter, flicking it a few times before the metal finally lights a spark. Nighttime is nearly fallen, the breeze slow, as if in mourning. Dahlia watches the flame, the orange wisps dancing in the near darkness. She should go inside. Up the states, to her room, where safety is promised.
But even through fear of darkness, she couldn’t just leave the streets like this. What could she do though? Nothing.

Like most people who aren’t fighting, Dahlia listens to the radio, reads the news, hoping for any sign of change, but it seems as though the aspiration for better days is dwindling.

Dahlia closes her eyes, letting the breeze overtake her once more before she stands, closing her lighter, and with the last rays of the sun, she turns on her heel and walks into the building.

It was a small shop, and had definitely seen better days. It held all forms of contraptions and candies, and Dahlias favored item, coffee beans.
Although the wood was slowly fading from the earthy brown, and the gold and green accents on the shudders and walls seemed to stall, Dahlia adored this place.

When she first arrived to Berlin, the owner of ‘Schmuck und Süßigkeiten’ offered her a job. She didn’t know why, perhaps he took pity on her, or simply really needed the help. Dahlia didn’t care for the reason, she was just grateful. Above the shop, the previously mentioned owner, Carl, gave her a place to sleep. A small room in the attic, and Dahlia loves it.
It was hers. Her own space.

So, she worked as a floor girl, occasionally running errands for Carl, whose health had seen better days.

Dahlia walks up the stairs after locking up, making sure not to wake Carl as she changes into her night clothes, her eyes drifting to the town out her window. A candle illuminated the room, it was always on at night, for Dahlia refuses to be in the dark.

She glances to the newspaper on the ground, one from a good long while ago about a plane crash. It was so…melancholy, to think about. But life was melancholy, now more than ever.
Something was happening, something more than war, Dahlia could feel it…and she didn’t know what to think.

The Golden age of Piracy

Interacting with: @Dark Light- Kenji
༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༆

Genevieve feels her chest tighten, frustration flooding her mind and thoughts as he pulls the matchbox from her reach.
She knew that it was a simple item, a way to get light or fire, and willing to have already done what she has to find them, it seems irrational. But now? She desperately wanted them. In her mind, she needed them.

What are they worth? To her they are worth not going insane. To him, they were probably worth whatever he could get out of her. And while Gen wished she could use charm, or something trivial to get her matches back, she figured that wouldn’t work.

The young woman sighs tiredly, her eyes studying the man before her with the light the shine from above deck, “I would reckon that they are worth two shillings.” She says, keeping her voice as soft as possible, regardless of her frustration. Considering she only bought them for one, hopefully he would just agree and give them back for the price