#c:darkspawn

[sanctuary-fm]

WELCOME, AN NARI

records show that AN, NARI is a 328 year old CURSED ONE who has lived in yeonghae for THREE YEARS. they are currently a SEAMSTRESS at SILVER SPUN TAILOR, but other parts of their reputation must precede them — their faint aura of DEEP PURPLE, or how they remind others of A BAD OMEN and COLD OBSIDIAN. — (yu jimin, she/her, TIDE in AETHER ROPE). penned by SYD.

[sanctuary-fm]

WELCOME, HYUN SIWOO

records show that HYUN, SIWOO is a 80 (surface life) years old CURSED ONE who has lived in yeonghae for FIVE YEARS. they are currently a part time bartender at WHISKEY'S REST TAVERN & INN, but other parts of their reputation must precede them — their faint aura of VERMILLION RED, or how they remind others of A WILDFIRE RAZING DOWN FORESTS and A SUNSET'S WARM SPLASH OF COLORS — (choi yeonjun, he/him/his or they/them, SERPENTINE in BLOOD TIES). penned by STAR.

FREEFORM.

Even as years passed the hollow aching remained, immobilizing him in the abyss, making the once revered darkspawn become one that was ridiculed. He was simply a foolish darkspawn who had been outwitted. Banished from wandering the human realm only to suffer the loss of his freedom. There was no sense of home in the abyss. Only the mana infused darkness, the timeless void as he was stripped down to the most instinctive core of himself. 

Just as he felt his resolve begin to fizzle out, he felt it. A pull at the weave. A desperate attempt at summoning. A plea for power. An opportunity to once again walk beyond the weave. Another pact that would give back his freedom. A summoner that would be the perfect pawn in his plan. His plan to find them. To return the pain he endured tenfold and watch life bleed from their eyes. 

With a crazed grin he reached out towards the summoning, his power shoving aside the weaker darkspawns, pulling a demented snarled laugh deep from within his chest and lunging straight through the triangular portal. The hunt begins.

Siwoo as a character: 

Siwoo is like an iced over lake. Calm, smooth, strong and able to support those he chooses. However, there is a side to him that is akin to thin ice. Patience that only goes so far before the ice beneath someone’s feet cracks and shatters, pulling them under with unrelentingly numbing coldness. 

In his first life, 20 years ago the first blight officially happened he came through a rift deep within the ocean. He gave up the ability to feel fear, both a blessing and a curse. For decades he traversed the physical mortal plane as a leviathan until he met someone. His first pact. His first friendship. He allowed the irreversible change from leviathan to cursed one to happen, betting his everything on their partnership. He had begun to find the appeal in humanity and humans. Their emotions and their way of life. Morally grey amusement in the balance that hung by their concept of justice. He found fondness in adventure, in the highs of success and power. He began to indulge in the small joys of human cuisine and his particularly part of the favorite mortal plane: felines. No one was brave enough to comment on his ever growing horde of them at the of his prime.

Later he’d wish he had given up the ability to feel loyalty instead. The same friendship led to his banishment. Vanquished, tricked, their souls torn as he was forced back through the weave. 

Now, he is cold, calculating, and filled with silent rage. The type of darkspawn that is both your greatest ally and enemy all in one. He’s a chaotic ally with sharp wit and an even sharper tongue. He now treats every relationship as a business transaction, based off how useful someone is to his goal. 

He takes care of his current summoner with like one would raising a protégé, allowing them to covet his powers and knowledge, but keeping them at an arms-length. 

[sanctuary-fm]

WELCOME, NAM BEOMSU

records show that NAM, BEOMSU is an UNKNOWN (APPEARS 25) year old LEVIATHAN who has lived in yeonghae for FORTY-SIX YEARS. they are currently a WANDERER, but other parts of their reputation must precede them — their faint aura of INKY BLUE-BLACK, or how they remind others of WHALE FALLS and THE DEEPEST PARTS OF THE SEA WHERE THE LIGHT DOES NOT REACH. — (mark lee, he/they, THE HORROR in THE PERFECT CRIME). penned by M.

FREEFORM.

one of the only certainties of beomsu’s current “life” is that this one is not his first.

that, and that he likes black coffee, hates wine, enjoys telling jokes (though he himself does not fully understand the humor behind them), and prefers walking. the last is admittedly less of a preference and more of a requirement, as horses can sense there’s something about him that isn’t quite human and are understandably spooked.

the thing about the ocean is that the ocean takes. when it does, it is not with the precision of a surgeon’s scalpel but with the raw-edged ferocity of the many-toothed beasts that lurk in its deep waters. beomsu does not quite remember the desperation or the reasoning behind the deal he made — but he knows that the ocean took his memories of his past lives, and that it is not in its nature to make clean incisions. the removal of his memories, in his opinion, was handled a bit … flippantly by the ocean, all serrated-edges and chunks of flesh. but it was not as bad as it may seem. see, the ocean also took most of his ability to feel pain.

and pain was not the only sensation it took. it’s not so much that beomsu has no emotions left, but that most are muted, pale shades of what he knows that humans can feel. and yet, he’s equally as slow to feelings of anger or desolation as he is to joy or exhilaration. more often than not, he feels at peace. tranquil. content with himself and his decisions. if the ocean felt that this was the cost for him to stay on earth, then so be it.

as for why he’s in yeonghae — well, he likes it here.