serpentgrave @serpentgrave - Tumblr Blog

𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖. this blog only serves as a hub for @serpentmass. Please refrain from interacting with or stealing anything seen here, or i will block.

ZARA KNIGHT

NAME. Zara Knight BIRTHNAME. Rukhaar Zahmir AGE. 32 BIRTHDAY. July 27th ZODIAC SIGN. Leo BIRTHPLACE. Kashmir, India ETHNICITY. indian ALLIGNMENT. lawful good OCCUPATION. psychatrist, FBI Behavioral Analysis Unit GENDER. female PRONOUNS. she/her SEXUALITY. straight FAMILY. survivors only, chosen family built through care and protection

PERSONALITY. she is quiet, soft, thoughtful, a presence that calms without trying, a mind that sees without being obvious, a heart that holds without breaking. she listens, notices, remembers, and moves carefully, deliberately, her kindness flowing even when the world tries to chip away, even when pain whispers in her ear, even when fear tugs at her shoulders. she is intelligent, perceptive, beautiful without needing to be seen, a mind that works, that studies, that plans, that heals, a patience that stretches over the broken, the hurting, the scared, because she knows what it is to be small, to be lost, and she will be the quiet steady hand that guides, that protects, that never leaves, that never wavers.

BACKGROUND. she was small, soft, trapped, beaten, a child married off to a man who had none of her humanity, none of her voice, none of her choice. he hurt her, left bruises on her body, on her mind, on her confidence, and still she endured, still she whispered, still she kept herself intact, hidden, watching, waiting, afraid, but careful, careful enough to survive, careful enough to breathe, careful enough to hope. she refused help, even when it was offered, because fear had carved itself into her bones, because trust was fragile, because she could not yet risk it, until the day he tried to bring another child into the same darkness, and then she acted, finally, finally saying no, finally finding the courage to reach out, finally letting someone protect her, finally stepping into action so that no other little girl would have to feel what she felt.

and she was hidden, protected, moved, given a new name, a new city, a new life, and she learned, and she studied, and she worked, and she built, tirelessly, patiently, kindly, quietly. she studied psychology, became an expert, specialized in children who had lived what she lived, worked with the police, worked with the FBI, built organizations to protect, to shield, to guide, to heal. she carries the memory, the pain, the grief, and she bends it, shapes it, turns it into empathy, into strength, into work, into life, into a quiet force that changes worlds without shouting, that saves lives with patience, with intelligence, with kindness, with heart.

C I A N

NAME. Cian AGE. unknown BIRTHDAY. August 24th ZODIAC SIGN. Aries BIRTHPLACE. Ireland ETHNICITY. Celtic ALLIGNMENT. lawful evil OCCUPATION. collector of his sister’s soul GENDER. male PRONOUNS. he/him SEXUALITY. straight FAMILY. brother of Senua, cursed apart for eternity

PERSONALITY. he is fire and smoke, teeth and sarcasm, flames wrapped around a smirk, a presence that refuses to stay quiet, refuses to behave, refuses to be ignored. he teases, he taunts, he flares and rages and rolls through chaos like it is a playground, pretending he does not care, pretending the world will always bend, pretending he is untouchable, until the rare moment he sees Senua at the edges, at the scream, at the shadow, and the spark in his chest twists, and the smirk falters just a little, just enough, because he knows she is there, she is always there, and he cannot reach, cannot touch, cannot save, cannot stay. chaotic, clever, untamed, untouchable, cursed to rise again, cursed to fall, cursed to inconvenience, cursed to burn and burn and burn, forever, while the world stumbles in his wake.

BACKGROUND. he was once human, once small, once soft, until the druid came. he had god dreams, god delusions, a god complex folded into every motion, every whisper, every cruel spell. he took Cian and Senua when they were children, pliable, trusting, too small to fight, too small to resist. he used them, experimented, tore through their lives, tried to cheat death, tried to bend eternity, spilled blood and tears and innocence across the floor, and every child lost was a step toward his goal. they watched, they endured, they survived, and when the druid died, when his magic ran out, when his last breath burned with rage and failure, he cursed them, cursed them both, cursed Senua to wail at death, cursed Cian to rise, to fall, to burn, to become fire again and again, to inconvenience everyone, to live without pause, to touch nothing, to see nothing, to never be together.

and he became a phoenix, flames wrapped around his bones, wings that rise and scorch, rebirth that hums through his blood, a loop that never ends, a joke played by death itself, a curse that makes him both powerful and helpless, both wild and restrained, both seen and untouchable, while Senua drifts at the edges, at the screams, at the shadows, and he burns knowing he cannot save, cannot hold, cannot stop the cycle, cannot stop the curse, cannot stop the druid from having won even in death, and he rises, he falls, he burns, and he waits, and he curses, and he lives, and he endures, and he remembers, forever, endlessly, eternally. everytime he gets so close to death, he can almost feel senua's breath upon his skin, almost feel her embrace, she fades as he burns and gets reborn again. forever apart.

S E N U A

NAME. Senua AGE. unknown BIRTHDAY. November 6th ZODIAC SIGN. Scorpio BIRTHPLACE. Ireland ETHNICITY. Celtic ALLIGNMENT. chaotic good OCCUPATION. harbinger of death GENDER. female PRONOUNS. she/her SEXUALITY. straight FAMILY. sister of Cian, cursed apart for eternity

PERSONALITY. she is sharp and cold, with a mouth that dares the world to look at her, eyes that hold storms, hair always falling just right across her face, black as night, long enough to hide behind, to disappear, to vanish, to scream. she drifts at the edges, always there, never fully seen, watching, waiting, whispering, carrying grief like a cloak, heavy, dark, constant. she wails when death comes, never before, never after, only at the edges where life bends and ends, only where the world is breathing its last, and every shriek is a warning, a reminder, a record, a song she cannot stop singing, because someone, somewhere, will die, and she will be there, always, and she is stuck, she is trapped, she is Senua, always just a shadow of sorrow and fury, forever emo, forever waiting, forever cursed.

BACKGROUND. she was human once, just a girl, small, fragile, laughing without knowing what the world could take from her. the druid took her, dragged her from the sun and the trees and the laughter of home, shoved her into his dark halls, his cages, his endless experiments. he wanted to cheat death, wanted to bend it, wanted to steal its rules, and she and her brother were nothing but tools, nothing but sparks for his hunger, nothing but bodies to feed his madness. he killed children, too many to count, little bodies, tiny hands, their cries echoing in his hallways, and still he kept going, kept feeding, kept twisting the world until they learned how to survive, learned how to run even when trapped, learned how to hide even when nowhere was safe, learned how to fight even when they were only children against a god-complexed man who thought he could win over death itself.

and when they stopped him, when his power finally broke like brittle glass, he cursed them with the last sparks of his life, twisted magic spilling from his dying hands, words sharp and cruel, designed to punish and prolong. she became a banshee, tethered forever to death’s arrival, never allowed to touch her brother, never allowed to comfort, never allowed to rest. and he became a phöni, cursed to return again and again, his soul tethered to hers, drawn to her scream, drawn to her shadow, pulled to collect what death claimed only to be thrown back into the same endless loop, the same cruel cycle, the same dark fairytale that never ends. she is Senua, ancient bloodline in her veins, emo hair and dark eyeliner stuck in 2005, screaming at the world she cannot touch, screaming at the brother she cannot reach, screaming at the death that has made her forever.

CASSIAN KAINE.

NAME. Cassian Kaine AGE. appears late 20s RACE. half-hellhound, half-human BIRTHDAY. April 17th ZODIAC SIGN. Aries BIRTHPLACE. Detroit ETHNICITY. mixed ALLIGNMENT. chaotic neutral OCCUPATION. hellhound, troublemaker GENDER. male PRONOUNS. he/him SEXUALITY. pansexual

PERSONALITY. he picks fights for fun. he snarls and leaps and dares the world to notice. he pretends he does not care. he walks away grinning and laughing and thinking he is untouchable. and then lucian shows up. always shows up. always in time. and he smirks, just a little, just enough, because he knows someone has to save him, someone always has to. he teases, he growls, he acts impossible, untamed, untouchable, chaotic, clever, full of fire and knowing that he can push the line, push the world, push lucian, and still be caught, still be held, still be loved even if he would never say it.

BACKGROUND. he was born on the wrong side of luck, a hellhound with a saint’s headache of a mouth, teeth and claws already sharp, already daring the world to stop him. he tore through rules, tore through lessons, tore through patience, tore through silence, turning every warning into a challenge, every command into a dare, every grown-up sigh into fuel for mischief. he ran, he barked, he laughed, he tested, he provoked, he jumped into danger without pause, without care, without thought, knowing the world would bend to him or break trying, knowing lucian would always show up, always drag him back, always patch him up, always be there, and letting that knowledge roll around in his mind, a secret thrill that made the chaos feel alive, feel sharp, feel worth it.

and lucian was always there. always. pulling him from fire, yanking him from fights, scolding, groaning, rolling eyes, steady hands where his were reckless, calm words where his were chaos. he hated it, fought it, barked, bit, snarled, pretended he did not care, but he did. he smirked, just enough, just a little, because he knew someone would always chase him, would always catch him, would always fight for him, patch him up, drag him back, even when he pretended he did not need it. and that knowledge made him bolder, louder, more impossible, more reckless, knowing the line was there, knowing lucian would be there, knowing he could push, push, push, and still be caught, still be held, still be loved.

LUCIAN KAINE.

NAME. Lucian Kaine AGE. appears 30s BIRTHDAY. unknown ZODIAC SIGN. Capricorn BIRTHPLACE. Detroit RACE: half-angel, half-human ETHNICITY. Cacasuian ALLIGNMENT. lawful good OCCUPATION. angelic warrior, reluctant babysitter GENDER. male PRONOUNS. he/him SEXUALITY. straight

PERSONALITY. discipline but wrapped in pride, sharp-minded enough to see a threat before it fully forms, rigid enough to believe he is always right, and relentless enough to make even demons hesitate before crossing him. every decision weighed against a code he refuses to bend. he is fierce in battle, merciless to anything he deems evil, and unyielding in his role as hell’s sworn enemy, yet there is an ever-present contradiction stitched into him like a flaw he cannot carve out. his temper is controlled until it is not, his patience thin when tested, and his sense of duty so deeply ingrained it borders on self-destruction. he does not joke often, but when he does it is dry, cutting, and usually at someone else’s expense. for all his righteousness, he has a habit of stepping directly into danger without hesitation. He is loyal, protective, passionate.

BACKGROUND. born of something that was never meant to exist cleanly, half angel and half human, and yet bound by blood to a hellhound, his younger brother. he grew up with a war already carved into his bones. he chose a side early, chose it loudly, and has never once looked back, dedicating himself to fighting hell with a conviction that borders on obsession. every lesson he learned sharpened him into a weapon, every battle reinforced the belief that he alone could stand between the world and what lurks beneath it. he built his life around rules, around purpose, around the certainty that he was doing what was right, even when it cost him everything else.

and yet, despite everything he stands for, he has never been able to sever the one tie that should have been easiest to cut. his brother remains a constant, a problem, a responsibility he never asked for and refuses to abandon, no matter how many times it puts him at odds with his own beliefs. he argues, he threatens, he drags him out of trouble with a frustration that borders on exhaustion, and still he stands in front of him when it matters, as if duty quietly rewrote itself into something far more personal. the war he fights is clear, the enemy well defined, but the line he walks grows thinner with every choice he makes, every moment he chooses blood over principle, and every time he proves that even the most righteous blade can hesitate.

NAZAN ŞAHIN

NAME. Nazan Şahin AGE. appears 30s BIRTHDAY. November 28th ZODIAC SIGN. Sagittarius BIRTHPLACE. Izmir, Turkiye ETHNICITY. Turkish ALLIGNMENT. lawful good OCCUPATION. archaeologist GENDER. female PRONOUNS. she/her SEXUALITY. bisexual

PERSONALITY. she is curious to a fault, teeth and hands always digging where she shouldn’t, reckless but clever enough to talk her way out of the first half of trouble, feral in her reflexes and stubborn in her choices, laughing at danger until it swallows her whole, sharp with words, sharper with wit, a touch of chaos always clinging to her, cannot sit still, cannot be tamed, refuses to bow, and somehow every misstep becomes part of the story she tells herself with a grin.

BACKGROUND. born under a copper sun in a city where sandstone streets twisted like snake paths and bazaars overflowed with trinkets and magic, she grew up in a family of wanderers, storytellers, and collectors, learning early that history is never quiet, it bites, it scratches, it hides treasures in plain sight and curses under gold and silk. she learned to read the patterns of the earth, the signs in the stars, the whispers of walls, but no matter how careful, she kept ending up where she did not belong, touching relics that should have remained buried, angering spirits, triggering curses, scraping through disasters with nothing but luck, charm, and quick hands.

her luck ran out the day she reached for a tomb she should not have opened, a seal that had held its secrets for centuries, thinking she could charm the shadows as she always had. it did not work. everything changed in that instant, the curses she had dodged so many times landing all at once, burning, screaming, a sharp reminder that curiosity has teeth and she had underestimated them. she survived, barely, but something inside shifted, the recklessness tempered with weight, the chaos threaded with the memory of what nearly broke her. still, she moves forward, still chasing history, still laughing in the face of danger, the fire in her heart unquenched, the stories waiting to be told, each curse she survives another badge of who she is, who she refuses to stop being.

ŞEBNEM BURSALI

NAME. Şebnem Bursali AGE. actual centuries-old BIRTHDAY. born under a sun-soaked city’s sky ZODIAC SIGN. Gemini BIRTHPLACE. some sunbaked city between Persia and Anatolia, unknown ETHNICITY. Anatolian ALLIGNMENT. chaotic neutral OCCUPATION. thief, wanderer, chronic mischief-maker GENDER. female PRONOUNS. she/her SEXUALITY. hetersexual

PERSONALITY. she is a fox, a trickster, impossible to pin down, impossible to fully trust, cleverer than anyone who tries, chaotic for her own amusement, feral but gentle, heart still good despite centuries of loss, always chasing the glint of something shiny, always hungry for mischief, her mouth full of puns and her eyes full of secrets, she bites when provoked and laughs when caught, she feels everything too sharply, grieves too deeply, hides it under charm and chaos, and somehow keeps moving, keeps playing, keeps chasing the next sparkle because if she stops the emptiness will swallow her whole.

BACKGROUND. she was born in a sunbaked city where the domes glinted like jewels and the air smelled of spices and sea, somewhere between persia and anatolia, where merchants traded gold and secrets alike, and storytellers spun tales of jinn and wonder. her family were clever and quick, foxes in human shape, teaching her how to take what she wanted and vanish before anyone even noticed, she ran with thieves and dancers and wanderers, her laughter echoing through alleyways, her fingers brushing gold and gems and anything that sparkled, every day a game, every night a new story, centuries stretching ahead of her before she even knew what centuries meant.

then the raids came, fires and blood, her family torn apart in a single night, everything she loved gone, even the bracelet she had stolen from the queen of babylon, the first thing that made her feel alive, burned away with it, leaving an emptiness that nothing could touch. she wandered from city to desert to palace, chasing sparkles, chasing memories, chasing whatever she could to fill the hollow, meeting jinn, demons, thieves, kings, all alike, learning every trick, every lie, every way to survive and vanish, laughing and crying all at once, and still, she chases that bracelet, and still she does not know it is not the bracelet she misses but the chance to grieve, to feel, to remember herself before the world took everything she loved.

LUCIA MAGDALENA

NAME. Lucia Magdalena AGE. actual unknown, raised in the Church since childhood BIRTHDAY. unknown ZODIAC SIGN. Aries BIRTHPLACE. Italy ETHNICITY. Italian ALLIGNMENT. chaotic good OCCUPATION. ex-novice, exorcist, feral supernatural operative GENDER. female PRONOUNS. she/her SEXUALITY. bisexual

PERSONALITY. she is gentle, feral, snarky, all at once, soft where you least expect it, sharp where you do, always a pun or a joke on her tongue even while her claws are out, even while her teeth are showing, protective without asking, loyal without explaining, messy and clever and exhausting if you think you can understand her in one lifetime, and she fights her own demons constantly, some visible, some quiet in the corners of her mind, and she survives them all, survives herself, survives everyone who tries to underestimate her heart, which is enormous and stubborn and refuses to break entirely even when it should.

BACKGROUND. born lucia in italy, in a quiet corner of the world where olive trees pressed against stone graves and incense lingered in the air, her childhood drifted in the spaces between prayers and shadows she did not understand, the first glimpse of something older than god in the fields nearby leaving a mark she could never shake, a soft burn beneath her ribs that whispered she was always meant for more, meant to be something else. she entered the convent at eighteen seeking holiness, feeling it like bones in her chest, but the convent did not welcome her, shadows twisted with her, sisters’ voices cutting through her mind, and then the possession began, seven demons, kings of hell, clawing, hollowing, voices screaming through her body, angels threading themselves into her bones, one humming scripture that made the nuns cry, a girl turned battlefield, vessel, something not entirely human anymore, but still alive, still laughing, still biting, still gently sarcastic.

she survived, barely, waking three days later hollowed and stitched with silence, declared sanctified and named magdalena, barbed-wire rosary in hand, instincts honed, clever and snarky and tired in ways only centuries of fighting yourself and the world can do, moving quietly, observing, learning, protecting, surviving, fighting demons she cannot see as well as the ones inside her, soft enough to be dangerous, fierce enough to be tender, a creature of fragments and heart, feral but gentle, and always, always ready with a joke, a quip, a pun, to remind the universe she is still entirely herself.

CAUSANTÍN MAC CONALL

NAME. Causantín Mac Conall AGE. immortal BIRTHDAY. November 8th ZODIAC SIGN. Scorpio BIRTHPLACE. ancient Ireland ETHNICITY. Gaelic ALLIGNMENT. chaotic neutral OCCUPATION. demon, master of charm and mischief GENDER. male PRONOUNS. he/him SEXUALITY. pansexual

PERSONALITY. he is charm dipped in poison, the kind of person who smiles like sunlight and leaves you bleeding anyway, every word a lullaby that twists your guts, clever, slippery, and wickedly funny, the kind of demon who makes you hand him the knife while somehow thanking him for the lesson, reckless with trust, impossible to predict, intoxicating in every way, a temptation you know will burn you but you can’t look away from, the kind of person who makes you feel alive and terrified at the same time, dangerous in his brilliance, dangerous in his kindness, dangerous in every beautiful thing about him, and never, ever trust him.

BACKGROUND. he was born long before most humans had names for fear, a creature of ancient gaelic magic, a mortal once but already cunning and sly enough to slip through centuries unnoticed, charming enough to weave his way into hearts and keep them there, until sadhbh came and he faltered, until desire became arrogance, until betrayal. he cheated, she caught him, and she acted, selling his soul to a cruel old celtic deity, binding him in dark power, twisting him into something more than human, something immortal, something wicked.

but the plan backfired. instead of breaking him, it made him thrive. centuries of existence sharpened him, honed him, polished that smile until it could cut as easily as it could comfort, taught him every lesson the world could offer, and still he laughs, still he charms, still he moves through life like he owns every shadow and every light, knowing just how far to push, how far to bend, and leaving devastation and awe in equal measure behind him. people fear him, people love him, people hate him, and yet all of them cannot look away. he is a lesson, a warning, and a story that never ends.

LIORA D'AUBIGNY

NAME. Liora D'aubigny AGE. 28/48 BIRTHDAY. September 23rd ZODIAC SIGN. Libra BIRTHPLACE. Montreal, Canada ETHNICITY. French, Canadian ALLIGNMENT. neutral good OCCUPATION. psychic medium, seer GENDER. female PRONOUNS. she/her SEXUALITY. pansexual FAMILY. all killed by demons, all gifted MISC. later married to henry

PERSONALITY. liora is light in human form, gentle and openhearted, the kind of person who sees good even when it’s hiding, endlessly patient, endlessly kind, sometimes to the point it makes people roll their eyes, grounded, aware, never naïve, her empathy sharp and steady, her selflessness unwavering, carrying herself with quiet calm that softens everything around her, choosing to be a source of warmth and hope even when the world keeps showing her its darkest face, refusing to let it win, hard to dislike, impossible really, because she meets pain with care and cruelty with understanding.

BACKGROUND. born into the d’aubigny family, a line of psychic mediums, her childhood was filled with whispers of the dead and warnings of the unseen, attuned to spirits, to emotions, to danger before it came, the legacy of her family pure and revered but also dangerous. when she was eight a demon tore through her life, slaughtering her parents, leaving her alone in a world that feared her, sent to a christian orphanage where the nuns and priests punished her for the gifts she could not hide, called her witch, blamed her for what she could not control, every punishment and every cruelty only teaching her more about suffering, about empathy, about how much it hurt to be alone.

as she grew, she left that place but carried the weight of it all, determined to honor her family’s legacy, wandering as a psychic medium, helping the lost, guiding spirits to rest, facing demons and hauntings and danger with quiet strength, her compassion extending to both the living and the dead, using her gifts to heal, to protect, to give peace where she could, never losing the light in her despite everything she had endured, building trust and care with those she met, always moving forward, always fighting to be the warmth in a world that tried to snuff her out.

NATASHA KIM

NAME. Natasha Kim AGE. immortal BIRTHDAY. May 15th ZODIAC SIGN. Taurus BIRTHPLACE. Seattle, America PLACE OF LIVING. nomad, roaming wherever the winds take her ETHNICITY. Korean ALLIGNMENT. chaotic neutral to lawful evil OCCUPATION. witch, demon-infused GENDER. female PRONOUNS. she/her SEXUALITY. pansexual FAMILY. daughter, killed by demons, husband, killed by herself after possession

PERSONALITY. natasha is fire and poison tangled in a human body, tender and violent at the same time, grief and rage flowing through her like blood, unpredictable, cynical, detached, quick to lash out or fight, haunted by loss but fueled by it, a witch and a demon now merged into one chaotic self, flashes of humanity slipping through the cracks but always swallowed by the darker half, always teetering on the edge, never sure if she’s herself or something else, and maybe she doesn’t care anymore.

BACKGROUND. orphaned at fourteen, wandering streets, never staying, numbing herself with drugs and desperation, barely alive, until a demon found her at her lowest, offering power for her soul, and she took it without thinking, too hungry to care. suddenly she had everything, wealth, status, magic, attention, she built a life, raised a daughter, felt alive for the first time, the luxury and power thrilling her, she thought she had it all, she thought she could finally belong somewhere. until one day, at her happiest, the demon demanded for its pay.

then her daughter was taken, ripped from her hands by a vengeful demon, and everything broke, grief and rage swallowing her whole, turning her into something raw, something dangerous. the demon who gave her power returned, not to claim her soul but to merge with it, twisting her mind, and now she’s neither fully human nor fully demon, both bleeding into one, chaotic, reckless, willing to cross every line for vengeance, for power, for survival, carrying the fractured pieces of herself like weapons, never stopping, never softening, never safe.

OFELYA LUSINYAN

NAME. Ofelya Lusinyan AGE. 28 RACE. half witch, half werewolf hybrid BIRTHDAY. April 6th ZODIAC SIGN. Aries ETHNICITY. Armenian (Anatolia) ALIGNMENT. chaotic neutral OCCUPATION. professional problem GENDER. female PRONOUNS. she/her SEXUALITY. bisexual FAMILY. raised by a witch she calls “the lunatic” blood family is a topic she’d rather burn than discuss

PERSONALITY. ophelia is wildfire in a wolf’s body, impulsive, ruthless, sarcastic, biting, allergic to rules and control, she thrives on chaos and freedom and defends both with teeth and claws, brutally honest, quick to fight or curse, never trusting easily but if she chooses you she will bleed and kill for you, magic simmering beneath the surface, untamed, unpredictable, dangerous, a wolf in every sense and a witch who refuses to be boxed in.

BACKGROUND. born to a fractured bloodline of witches and wolves, she never had a simple life, her mother controlling and secretive, teaching obedience, demanding her wolf side stay hidden, pushing her to be small and quiet, but ophelia craved freedom more than anything. one night cornered by another witch’s cruelty she snapped, killed, and the wolf took over, she embraced it fully, abandoned the path set by her mother, and carved her own life through fights, blood, bad decisions, and the kind of freedom you only earn with scars.

new orleans became her playground, or maybe her sanctuary, witches wary of her, wolves uncertain if she belongs, vampires warned and amused, and she moved through it all like a storm, drinking too much, fighting too often, leaving enemies in her wake, making friends carefully, if at all, a wolf with fire in her veins and no intention of bowing to anyone, no pack, no coven, no one.

ÉLÉONORE DE LAROQUE

NAME. Eléonore de Laroque AGE. 416 BIRTHDAY. November 2nd ZODIAC SIGN. Scorpio BIRTHPLACE. Labourd, France PLACE OF LIVING. New Orleans, Louisiana ETHNICITY. French-Basque ALIGNMENT. true neutral OCCUPATION. former witch, now vampire, professional problem GENDER. female PRONOUNS. she/her SEXUALITY. lesbian

PERSONALITY. eléonore is chaos in a velvet corset, sharp and cynical and too alive to care about anyone’s rules, she feels everything and pretends she does not, hides grief behind venom and wit, cruelty is elegant but rage runs beneath it, she does not forgive, does not forget, she protects the few she allows close with teeth and claws, and somehow clings to sadhbh in a way that makes her stop burning the world while still wanting to watch it burn everywhere else.

BACKGROUND. born in the basque region of france, daughter of a clever herbalist and a disgraced nobleman, she was always too sharp, too strange, too alive for the quiet world that demanded women be small and soft. she learned witchcraft with a hidden coven, thrived in shadows, laughed at men and rules alike until a monk obsessed with her found her, whispered damnation in every breath, and when she refused him he turned her into what she never chose, cursed her to live forever. the witches killed him but it was too late, and she tore across europe wild, destructive, untamed, burning, drinking, breaking, destroying for years, leaving fear and awe in her wake, learning power and pain, learning how fragile the world could be beneath it all.

she survived everything, left nothing behind that mattered except scars and legends, met sadhbh ní dhorchaidhe eventually, a celtic witch older than the stars impossible to intimidate, and somehow they stuck, one chaotic vampire, one reckless witch, wild together but balanced, each relying on the other in ways no one else would understand, and in that chaos she carved her place, a life built on survival, power, and never forgetting what the world tried to take from her.

SADHBH NÍ DHORCHAIDHE

NAME. Sadhbh Ní Dhorchaidhe AGE. born around 320 to 350 CE BIRTHDAY. March 1st ZODIAC SIGN. Pisces BIRTHPLACE. Connacht, Ireland PLACE OF LIVING. New Orleans ETHNICITY. Irish ALIGNMENT. lawful evil OCCUPATION. solitary witch GENDER. female PRONOUNS. she/her SEXUALITY. bisexual, wildly selective FAMILY. part of an ancient druidic bloodline

PERSONALITY. sadhbh is equal parts ancient and sly, centuries of knowing tucked under her skin like a second heartbeat. she is independent, unyielding, clever, sharp-tongued, laughing at the foolish and the zealous alike. she does not give kindness freely, but once it’s yours, it is hers fully. she does not suffer cruelty, lies, or blind obedience. she moves through the world with a balance in her bones, not politics, not games, though she enjoys the drama when it amuses her. she has lived long enough to know pain fades, power fades, people fade. she does not plan to live forever, only until the fun stops.

BACKGROUND. born into a druidic bloodline in western ireland, sadhbh grew up guarding the land, tied to rivers, stones, and burial mounds. when the church came, she refused the cross, watched her kin burn, their groves destroyed, their stories erased. she survived, vanished into the mists, learned the old ways, became something more than myth. centuries passed, she wandered europe, collected knowledge and power, shaped herself into someone dangerous, someone untouchable. she does not age. she does not die.

eventually she came to new orleans, drawn to the old blood and restless spirits, made a home in the garden district among antiques and relics older than most vampires. she knows the originals, has crossed paths, respects them but fears none. she belongs to no coven, answers to no one. witches seek her for aid or artifacts, and she gives only what she chooses. protection comes with a price. strength must be forged, not coddled.

SALEM SABERHAGEN

NAME. Salem Saberhagen AGE. older than he’ll ever admit BIRTHDAY. 31 October ZODIAC. Scorpio BIRTHPLACE. New Orleans, Louisiana CURRENT BASE. New Orleans, Louisiana ETHNICITY. Creole ALIGNMENT. chaotic evil (with standards) OCCUPATION. witch-for-hire, familiar-for-rent, professional instigator GENDER. male PRONOUNS. he/him SEXUALITY. whore.

PERSONALITY. salem is chaos with a smug grin, clever enough to talk his way into anything, lazy enough to nap through half the consequences, and stubborn enough to make the other side of the room rethink their life choices. he is sarcastic to a fault, always quick with a pun, a quip, or a mischievous plan that someone, somewhere, will regret. he may have been punished for a lifetime, but he has learned nothing except how much fun it is to push boundaries, bend rules, and get others tangled in his schemes. he shifts into cat form when convenient, mostly to annoy, sneak, or manipulate, but his human self is even more dangerous, full of charm, wit, and a deeply ingrained need to be at the center of trouble.

BACKGROUND. once a witch with grand ambitions, salem tried everything, burned bridges, betrayed trust, and sought shortcuts in magic that earned him a lifelong punishment: four decades trapped as a talking cat, watching the world move on while he planned his escape. every day in that small, fur-covered form sharpened his cunning and his desire for revenge on boredom itself. when the punishment ended and his human body was returned, he emerged fully intact, with all the wit, arrogance, and mischievous intent he’d cultivated over decades as a cat. he has yet to learn the lessons most humans would have taken to heart after such punishment.

he now roams freely, half-pleased with the chance to walk and talk as a person again, half-tempted to slip back into fur just to sneak and stir chaos. the world has not changed him, only reminded him of the fun in clever tricks, schemes that inconvenience friends and enemies alike, and the joy of proving he can get away with nearly anything. those who know him worry, those who don’t soon find out, and salem enjoys every second, laughing, plotting, and always just one step ahead of the rules he refuses to respect.

ARIANNE CLERMONT

NAME. Arianne Clermont AGE. 786, turned at 20 in 1239 BIRTHDAY. March 2nd FACECLAIM. Davika Hoorne ZODIAC SIGN. Pisces BIRTHPLACE. Lyon, France PLACE OF LIVING. a secretive vampire sanctuary ETHNICITY. Thai, Portuguese ALIGNMENT. lawful neutral OCCUPATION. vampire matriarch GENDER. female PRONOUNS. she/her SEXUALITY. pansexual FAMILY. mother died in infancy, father murdered during childhood

PERSONALITY. arianne carries storms inside her. years of silence, blood, survival, they left her sharp, cautious, cold at first glance. she is quiet but not weak, reserved but not timid. she does not forgive easily, does not forget, and trust is not given, it is earned in sweat and action, not in words. she protects her people fiercely, not with loud authority but with a quiet, unshakable presence. she does not strike without reason, but if you threaten her or hers, mercy is a stranger. anger sits in her chest, calm, coiled, ready to strike when the time is right. she is clever, calculating, several steps ahead of anyone who underestimates her. people call her a queen. she never asked to be one, but she is. and once someone tests her twice, there is no third chance.

BACKGROUND. born the bastard child of a thai slave and a portuguese nobleman in 15th-century france, arianne never had a place in the world. her mother died before she could remember, and her father found her starving on the streets, saw himself in her, took her in for a brief moment of safety, until bandits tore it all apart. he was killed for his wealth, and she was sold like she was nothing. she landed in the household of a french nobleman, his cruelty as untouchable as his power. years of suffering, silence, and small deaths marked her. but one night, pushed too far, she snapped. when he tried to take her, she fought with feral rage. guards arrived, found only her, bloodied but standing. he never hurt anyone again.

she was sentenced to death, no second thought. but tristan, an old cruel vampire, had watched. not mercy, just curiosity. hours before her execution, he came, gave her his blood, forced the guards to obey. she was hanged at sunrise and woke that night changed. not free, just different. centuries passed under his control, fed when allowed, moved when commanded, but the chains stayed in her mind. and eventually, she broke them. over a hundred years ago, she disappeared into the shadows of france, built a place for the broken, the dangerous, the discarded. she became their protector, their ruler, their first.

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