GREED IS A GOD

CROOKED KINGDOM / GRISHAVERSE ROLEPLAY COMING SOON #CROOKEDTALK

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MAIN PAGE RELEASE

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Today is going to be the last day to reblog the promo located here in order to gain early access to the MAIN PAGE. I’ve got a big day ahead of me personally, so once I set up my wifi in my new place and everything is good to go, you can expect me to be around. But, until then, may the odds be in your favour.  

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if you don't mind me asking, who is vera's fc?

I don’t mind at all! Her name is Blanca Padilla.

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who is sonia’s fc? she’s beautiful!

Sonia will be portrayed by Laura Harrier! I’m quite fond of her and she fits Sonia’s characterization perfectly so I really hope you all think so as well.

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SHE SITS ATOP THE WORLD. A wandering eye, a watcher of the waters. Rivers course through her, and she through it. At cliffs edge with bewilderment washing over her features, she studies the waves, the movement of the tides. There is little in which she cannot control. A quiet nature is something that men devour in this world, how is it that she still stands strong? Delicate and forged in the seas, she is one with the world in such a way that others only dream. They whisper, a steady stream of curiosities sent her way, and all she can do is smile. They ripped her from her world, so why is it she cannot cause the ground to shake, for the waters to flow in a rage only she can conjure. She is their watcher, their protector, and their greatest fear. The woman in the water, the grisha in the night. The light tower at Ketterdam’s edge. In the dead of night, shadows swallow the town whole, the crooked kingdom becomes vulnerable to the world and she, it’s last defender. 

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PERFUMED WITH LIQUOR, her heart has never been in the right place. How can it be when she’s lived within the gutters of the most notorious escape of all? Men and women alike hide their faces as if its something to be ashamed of, as if they wish to find something missing beneath the gaze and touch of the women they hire. The West Stave has always been her home, comfortable in the clutter of people that weave their way to and from each gambling hub to every brothel. Lips stained a permanent crimson, cheeks sunken in and the air of desperation seeps from her core. There was nothing worse than a has been, a woman clinging to her importance given to her only by the amount others would pay. Her strike is wicked, smile is nothing more than a guise to hide demons that tear at her skin from beneath. A hole in her chest where her heart should be, she’d learned long ago that to long after something was a weakness, to want something for ones self was a mere fairytale that remained unobtainable. Now, she only gives. Whether it be herself or others. The glittering lights wash against her skin and for a moment she swears its almost worth it.

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THE CROWS CALL HIM A KING. He reigns over them with an iron fist, with fear comes respect. There isn’t a thing in the world in which he won’t do. No job too big or small. After all, it was only mere months ago that he’d pulled off one of the biggest heists Ketterdam had ever seen, wasn’t it? His tongue is laced with liquor, perfumed with whiskey as he speaks to false prophets, believing himself to be a martyr of men. To be a hero was to be a lie, to wear a facade of falsehoods in which he’d never felt comfortable. He steals from the rich, gives to the poor, only to take from them for his own greed. There is no moral compass within his chest, only a hollowed out heart that aches for the thrill of it all. Nothing more than the chase, than the adrenaline that comes with the break in, with the climax. Blood stained hands are his and his alone. His loneliness comes with his leadership, his cold heart comes with his loss. For, kruge can only buy you what you want, not bring back the things you’ve lost, the ones you’ve let die only to hear your name whispered with caution within the Barrel.

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henrik thooooo

Let me wax poetics about how much I love the Van Eck family and their storyline in this roleplay because it is –– the absolute worst but I love them all the same. Henrik is probably going to be one of the characters I’m looking forward to seeing the most on the dash.

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riley this all looks spectacular honestly

I am so pleased to hear such positive feedback. Crooked Kingdom is something that I have been working on for ages and I have poured my heart and soul into making sure that it felt fresh and different from the series as a whole while still remaining fit for the universe itself. I am enjoying all of the positivity that’s been coming my way and I have nothing but the utmost of thanks to send back to you all.

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👀 all these teasers!!

Ah thank you so much! They’re just going to keep on coming until I post the main so I really hope you’re all enjoying them!

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Anika tho 👀

I’m glad you’re intrigued! Just wait until I release her biography. Her role in Crooked Kingdom is not going to be what you’d expect so I really hope it surprises you all.

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hi i was wondering why the blog isn't available on a desktop and only can be seen on the sidebar of tumblr? is it meant to be like that bychance?

It is on purpose! I found that I was spending too much time searching for the perfect theme and kept re-doing it and revising, so instead of obsessing over a blog that would be present for about a week and a bit, I decided to make it dashboard only. it serves its purpose quite well to simply post in the tags, the character teasers and answer questions so I thought it worked rather well!

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When will you be releasing the main page?

Keep your eyes peeled this weekend! I’ll be posting the main and releasing the plot!

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SHE WAS THROWN TO THE WOLVES. Now she is one. A creature who bears her teeth to those who threaten. A creature who hunts, who scavenges. There is much to be said of a woman leading an army, even more to be said of a grisha at the right hand of the king. The country whispered, and in turn she just laughed in the wake of their assumptions. The wicked witch who’d caught the trust of a young prince, the soon to be sworn in king, only to plot deviously to overthrow him entirely. Words in which she spits are as sharp as knives, bitter as the cold that bites ones cheek in the deepest of winter nights. The wolves howl, and she alongside with them, does as well. Disguised as something delicate, disguised as something less than who she is. There’s an order to be followed, a loyalty to be had, and she’s never been one to follow rules. In the dead of night, she swears fealty to a man she’s only ever admired, in the dead of night she plans the murder of Nikolai Lantsov and relishes in it. 

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EVERYONE HAS A PRICE. Everyone can be bought. Sailing the True Sea time and time again has done nothing but prove this to be true. Yet, if one were to want something smuggled, something hidden, they’d rely upon the ghost ship, a woman of pride at the helm. Her loyalty was as wavering as the tides, always given to the highest bidder. Smart mouthed and sharp tongued, she sheds skin likened to a snake to conform to the crowns of each country in which she raids, in which she turns on. As proud as she is, there is no line in which the pirate won’t cross, no job in which she won’t take and no laws in which she won’t break. She’d adapted well to the world that had ridded her of any hope, of any closure. Instead, she’d allowed greed to swallow her whole, allowed gold to flow through her veins and believe herself to be untouchable. Yet, the deeper she dives, the further she falls. The longer she goes without a loyalty to anyone, without a conscience to the world around her, the faster she suffers. A woman at the head of a would be army, a woman king, set to destroy her own legacy for the sake of her pride. 

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LIKE A PHOENIX, HE ROSE. Dust and debris is what brought him into this world, covered in soot and sorrow within the gutters. There was no hope for a mutt such as himself. The world had been cruel to him, and so he in turn had chosen to be cruel to it. Eyes as dark as coal, a heart as ravaging as the raging seas themselves. He had been bound in shackles if only to escape them mere moments later. They’d praised him for the way he could slaughter a man in the dead of the evening without so much as a creak of a staircase. He was their shadow, their demon in the night. Adorned in furs and knives, Os Alta feared the man who the throne seemed to praise. He was celebrated, his cruelty rewarded. Pockets filled to the brim with gold. Yet, it wasn’t gold in which he’d wished to be paid by, it was blood. The blood of his enemies, the vicious creatures who slaughtered his life before him. The demons in the night in which he now acted as if only under a guise. He’d yearned for nothing more than to spill grisha blood.

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HE WORE A HALO , A CROWN.  Ketterdam waters ran through his bloodstream, the streets acted as his bones. Charismatic and all consuming, he had nothing to prove but everything to gain. The city bowed down to him, and he in turn gazed upon them with nothing but pity. He, fed with a silver spoon, hid from the world behind iron wrought gates. He would watch it burn beneath his gaze if only to remain unscathed. He would watch as feral beasts tore flesh from one another as he sat comfortably upon his man made throne. Life, they’d said, was a game. He, their judge, their jury, their executioner. Draped in silks with sinister intentions seeping into his smile, he coiled around his prey likened to a snake if only to take pride in watching them struggle. To be a god was to be ethereal, to be a god was to be pure. So, call him the devil. For he’d shone the brightest of hues and painted himself a saint only to crawl back into his damned home, his fortress, free of the scum that littered the city –– his city.