—(••÷ [ ANYA CHALOTRA , CIS-WOMAN , SHE+HER ] in the darkness you arrive , it seems ZOYA SOLKARITH has emerged from malriths embrace. the LADY OF HOUSE SOLKARITH, brings with them such passion in their wake and they are known for being AMBITIOUS but also DOMINEERING. the bloodmoon shines when the THIRTY ONE year old joins the war. what songs would be sung in their name ? [ ARSONIST'S LULLABY + HOZIER ] for in the decades to come they will speak of : blood stains against deceptively smooth skin + an imploringly solid and unflinching gaze + an unsettling flash of white teeth in a wolfish grin. may your journey bring fruit , welcome to nocturnia forgotten one.
character inspirations ... michael corleone ( the godfather ), vicious ( cowboy bepop ), hannibal lecter ( hannibal ), gus fring ( breaking bad )
iii. physical.
faceclaim … anya chalotra
build ... athletic beneath noble refinement, years of swordsmanship and combat training have left her lean rather than delicate, carries herself with the posture of someone perpetually prepared for violence.
hair color … dark brown, kept long and pulled back
eye color … a deep, deep red
iii. biography.
tw. domestic violence mention, murder
You know sacrifice before you ever know duty, but it will become clear sooner rather than later that there is no difference between the two. The house of Lumien Keep cultivates weapons more than it nurtures its children; this is a cross you bear willingly. You remember empty stomachs, frozen fingers, and learning far too young that survival was not awarded to the kind or the deserving, it was awarded to the ruthless. By all accounts, you should have died long before House Solkarith ever learned your name. These days, you take it as a sign of your will that you did not.
They feed you, house you, train you like dogs, and still you maintain it is a better fate than running barefoot through mud and pickpocketing to survive in the brutal streets of Braxigar. You were disgusted by your true lineage and the filthy blood that made you up; your father was a madman who needed to be put down, who became a beast with a heavy hand when he drank, and your mother was a coward who left you with him. Your thirst for violence has always been justified and it began the day you saw through to your father's demise. It's not long after that your story begins the same as your siblings' - a street rat turned nobility, a thief and a killer. You will never ask what it is they saw in you when they found you, a defiant and unflinching little girl, never one to beg or be so desperate for approval - you may not have noble blood, but you do prove yourself nonetheless, a silent oath to the family that chose you.
With clawing nails and gritting teeth, your ambition is cutting. Braxigar is a hollow of blood-soaked battlefields and mad warriors, the realm's snarling guard dog, only useful when violence is needed and ignored when wisdom is offered. No one listens to insanity until it's too late, and your goal has always been to subvert that. Discipline and strategy are yours to take, a brutal fighter on the field, your ruthlessness is not obvious - it is a quiet thing, festering for years, what a slap in the face it turns out to be when you learn of a deal. All your hard work, diplomacy and politics and clawing your reputation into something more than what someone from Braxigar is - all to learn this fate was chosen before you had even been brought to Lumien Keep. You know exactly what they saw in you now, a bargaining chip.
Anyone who cannot see the storm gathering is either blind or stupid, and neither inspires confidence. While the rest of Nocturnia debates who should sit upon a throne, while you are simply expected to agree to a marriage you want no part of, you concern yourself with whether there will still be a kingdom left to rule. Will they listen to the daughter of a violent house?
Perhaps not, that method has been tried and true for generations - perhaps they will listen to the wife of a respected one. The initial anger and violence, days spent in the training grounds ripping apart any opponent that dared try to best you, becomes calculated. You realize just what a blessing in disguise this might be. House Athlyan sits close to the heart of power. Close to Morkhul, to the council, and to the throne itself. If the rest of Nocturnia refuses to take Braxigar seriously, then perhaps they need to hear its warnings from closer range. If they insist on binding your future to theirs, then you will use the connection for everything it is worth. One way or another, Nocturnia is going to listen, and when the dead finally come knocking at the gates, they will remember the name of who tried to warn them.
janainaart
theartofmadeline
baratheonpilled
ellievsbear
2087