BIRTH NAME: Kawi Can
AGE+DOB: 30, unknown
GENDER: non-binary
PRONOUNS: he/they
NATIONALITY: Unknown, possibly Malaysian
ETHNICITY: Malaysian/White
EDUCATION: none
PLACE OF BIRTH: Unknown
CURRENT LOCATION: Hanoi, Vietnam
OCCUPATION: Titan of the Godsend crew
RELIGION: Atheist
ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Neutral
FAMILY: Unknown
LANGUAGES: English, Vietnamese, Mandarin, Spanish, German, Hindi, Indonesian
FACECLAIM: Henry Golding
Bio below ; Connections
REDACTED BACKGROUND INFORMATION SUPPLIED BY A GOVERNMENT EMPLOYEE OF [REDACTED]
Kawi was born in [redacted] in a [redacted] refugee camp where he was placed with [redacted] and [redacted] who posed as his parents.
At age sixteen, he was moved to [redacted] a refugee camp in the north of the country. Kawi and several other youths of around the same age left the camp without permission on November 1st 2006. There have been rumours and possible sightings of the youths in [redacted], but their status has been left to dealt with by local police.
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A VAGUE SUMMARY SUPPLIED BY KAWI
Born under vague circumstances and growing up in a refugee camp, Kawi never had much of an outlook on life. He was constantly swept in the currents of life around him. His parents - if they even were his parents - distant and often absent.
Kawi ran off with a group of kids after being transferred to a camp without his parents present. The problem was that he was replaceable to them, when shit hit the van and things got dangerous, the group needed a scapegoat: they turned on him.
He ran and ran until he was out on his own, far and far away from where he started. With some broken English and a strange street language, he managed to survive.
He came into contact with the Pantheon by accident (or so Kawi still believes), realising their existence through someone they were running errands for. He knew this was a place where he could try again, so he started to live and breathe their ideology until he was starting to believe it himself. Then he made himself irreplaceable. Whatever they needed, he would be that person. He taught himself all the skills needed, he shadowed anyone that he thought was going to help him get ahead in life. He was going to make sure nobody was going to run him off.
Until he managed to fuck things up so badly he was certain nobody wanted him back if they knew. A mission gone wrong, that was for sure. He had done all the research, he had prepared all that needed to be prepared, and still he was faced with things he hadn’t seen coming. So she died, and he lived, and everyone was there to see his shame.
But if he admitted to his flaws, he knew he couldn’t be trusted again, so he didn’t. He pretended it was out of his hands, and stayed out of the way of those he’d hurt with his actions.
He’ll prove himself again.
SOME THINGS KAWI DOES NOT KNOW ABOUT HIMSELF
Kawi’s real name is Qawi, he ended up in a refugee camp purely by accident. His real parents tried to find him for a long time, but eventually had to give up. The two people who raised him had simply taken pity on him and raised him as their own as well as they could.
Kawi has photographic memory, but because he’s never gotten into contact with the possibility, he believes everyone can store information as fast as he can, so he needs to work twice as hard to get an edge.
Kawi has Auditory Processing Disorder, although it is a light variant, it does mean that he needs to write things down in order to remember them correctly, and that when it comes to languages he’s far stronger at reading and writing.
RELATIONSHIP TO THE CREW AND THE PANTHEON
To Kawi the Pantheon is a means to an end, that end being security and safety within a place where his skills are seen as irreplaceable. The street gang Kawi was a part of when he was younger used him as a scapegoat, he had been more friendly then, talking to everyone, supporting the person he thought was right for having the authority, and being far more impulsive in establishing connections. He knows part of the reason why he was scared off was because he started a relationship with a girl one of the taller boys was into. Kicking him out was an easy choice, he was small, he was too scared to speak up for himself.
He handles things different within the organisation. He keeps people at a distance, and if he can’t control them, he will try to avoid them. He does care, but he simply doesn’t think it’s wise to openly show it. After all, he sees it as a weakness.
He’s made the Pantheon’s ideology his own, even though most of it is based on opinions and the experiences themselves have always been underwhelming. This too is but a means to an end to him.
this killer girl will rule the world. “pantheon royalty” is what they call you mainly out of jealousy and sometimes fear. you excelled in every test and still you question if you’re ready for this job. you demand to be respected even by your elders. your parents are proud to call you their daughter. to be an oracle is a great honor and sacrifice — you love this job far too much. the phantom feeling when your weapon is far from your form. your finger will always be on the trigger and ever so willingly.
Jacqueline “Jack” Devereux (FC: Astrid Berges-Frisbey)
Pronouns: She/Her
Rank: Apollo
Skill Set Strengths: Gymnastics and Acrobatics, Art and General Counterfeiting, Linguistics, Surveillance, Long Cons
Areas of Opportunity: Smuggling, Operational Organization, and History
Weaknesses: Marksmanship, Hand-to-Hand Combat, and Technological Aptitude
Positive Traits: Disciplined, Calculated, Careful, Balanced, and Intelligent
Negative Traits: Cold, Frigid, Impersonal, Disloyal, and Snobbish
Timeline
Born October 22nd, 1988 in Nice, France to well-to-do French/Spanish aristocracy on the verge of financial ruin
Child of mixed trades - a passion for fine arts, but a talent for gymnastics
Begins competing as a gymnast, earnings gold and silver trophies. Nearly qualified for the Olympics, before an injury and growing dependence on pain killers disqualify her from competition (Age 19)
Earns a scholarship at The Royal College of Art in London, England and emerges with a Fine Arts Degree (Age 23)
Employed as a junior, art restorer for the National Gallery when she catches a counterfeit art piece - catching the attention of Pantheon’s ranks
Joins Pantheon and is placed as an Apollo (Age 27)
The Pantheon’s go-to for art counterfeiting and cons requiring steady hands and athletic flexibility
Languages Spoken
French (Native)
Spanish (Native)
English (Fluent)
Portuguese
German
Mandarin
Italian
Learning Japanese and Cantonese
Character Parallels
Marcia Roy
Olenna Tyrell
Amy Dunne
Mystique
Black Widow
Blair Waldorf
Full Biography
There was a certain, gilded path for the members of Spanish aristocracy. A life that promised importance, lineage, and relevance - long after one had come and gone from the world. It was an old world ideal, but for Duque Lorenzo Jiménez, it remained the expectation. Never mind that the Jiménez’s finances were built on the dwindling foundation of ancestral wealth. He would argue that nobility is synonymous with grandeur. They simply needed to show it to the world. To dig within, and shine. In the bloom of young love, Marianne Devereux promised just that. A highly accomplished painter from a well-to-do family from the South of France; the artist encapsulated what Lorenzo wanted for himself. A grand existence of popularity and influence, shrouded by the classist structures he enjoyed so well. The promise of a son came soon after their wedding, cleverly picking the name ‘Jackson’ after the Pollock painter. But a misread sonogram brings a surprise, and in his place, is her. It’s Jacqueline, they decide. However, the affectionate nickname ‘Jack’ was solidified throughout Marianne’s pregnancy - and it sticks.
Life is not without its share of disappointments, and Jack is exposed to the tumultuous nature of her parents’ marriage. At a young age, the cracks began to appear over the polished glass of the couple. Her father’s taste for champagne, caviar, and excess slowly but surely diminished their financial status. A man of privilege, who never knew a day’s work in his life, placed the blame on his partner. An art career that once showed promise, proved fruitless in the years to come. Year after year, her popularity dwindled. And with it, the financial prosperity of the young family. In the cold, imposing ancestral home - Jack lived in relative solitude. When the marble halls weren’t shaking with her father’s wrath and her mother’s cool resentment, it rang a hollow silence. Something cold and imposing, in all that surrounded her. A cold state of being, as it turned out, made for survival. Jack managed through the toxicity of her family, by virtue of numbness. The singular source of emotional expression, brought by a paint brush and a canvas.
It was the first of many things that her father would take away from her. In its place, is the rigor of gymnastics. What began as a six-year-old’s hobby, evolved into a vocation. Sure, Jack was a tried and true natural - likely inherited from athletes from her father’s side. Something special in her bones, that made her pliable and agile. And sometimes, it was enjoyable. Nothing to be disliked about being excellent, and earning her hyper-critical father’s approval. Still, she would search for a canvas when the night light turns off. By day, she is her father’s trophy. But at night, she is her mother’s daughter. Hers was a technical talent, lacking in her mother’s artistry - you needed a soul to put humanity on the tip of a paintbrush, and stroke genius. One ought not to be fooled by the liveliness of the Jimenez’s home - there is not a soul to be found. As the years trudged on, the unhappiness and instability of her parents’ marriage clung onto the slimmest of threads - Jack’s athletic success. It’s not long before gold and silver medals line their home. The accolades prove to be a commercial success, drawing benefactors and sponsors alike. A cash cow, a champion, a winner - it’s who Jack Devereux-Jimenez is destined to become.
At only twelve-years-old, she began her career as a professional athlete. By nineteen-years-old, it comes to a screeching end. All before ever making it onto the Olympic arena, no less. The mounting pressure, combined with a slow-recovering injury push Jack to performance enhancing drugs. Orange pill bottles smuggled in her leather satchel, pried open after each intensive session. A minor crutch, she argues, that would dissipate when the true competition began. Jack is a winner, but even winners need a push up the hilt. But when it comes to light, she is disbarred from competition. A name that verged on grandeur, blacklisted and forgotten. The sponsors and accolades follow, and so too does her loveless father. Her parents’ marriage is undone, and Marianne and Jack are thrust onto the world on their own. A great many disappointments come from the unraveling, but in some ways, Jack feels relief. She is free - from her father, the Jimenez name, and the volatility of their home. An estate that is sold to settle the family’s debts.
In the aftermath, the mother-and-daughter find their way to Paris, where Marianne’s expertise earns her a coveted spot as a curator for the Louvre. In the simplicity of their two bedroom apartment, Jack heals in the arms of her lost love - putting paint to canvas. A therapeutic act that allows her crutches to become awash. But Jack is not one for keeping still, for just getting by. She is flexible, malleable - and her thirst for excellence can be foregone, for more subdued passions. She builds a portfolio, leveraging her familiar name and inherent talent to earn her place in London’s coveted Royal College of Art. A welcome reprieve, too. The space between Jack and her mother felt smaller and smaller, as resentment simmers just below the velveteen words. Jack leaves for London, and four years later, accomplishes a Fine Arts Degree. The name, Jacqueline Devereux, embossed on the degree. It is a new moniker, for a new Jack.
At first, The National Gallery is the perfect fit. As an art restorer, she is surrounded by fantastical works that spoke to her cold heart. But Jack was never made for ordinary life, or the straight-and-narrow. She is made to win, to see the world, and to bring her own grandeur to life. When a ‘Woman With a Parasol; by Monet is brought to her for restoration, it takes all of five minutes for her studied eye to catch the misnomers. The subtle changes in stroke, the off hue in red, and the tightness in the lines. It was a counterfeit. An impressive one, but a counterfeit nonetheless. But it passes through chains of authentication, caught only by a junior art restorer in the basement of The National Gallery. When the falsity of the piece is brought to the committee’s attention, an investigation takes shape. Never mind the loss of history, the millions in loss it represented caught headlines. And Jack, centered at the eye of the storm. As she makes her leave from the studio in the late hour, footsteps follow her through London’s sleepy streets. They chased her down, nipping at her heels. She believed them to be the perpetrators, offended by Jack’s ability to catch them in the middle of their con. Instead, the mysterious and hooded figures claim their loyalties to Pantheon. Their arrival is not judgement, but the promise of heaven itself - a place where her staunch eye, careful hands, and athleticism could find value.
The swift but calculated decision comes easily, almost too easily. Her workplace comrades, apartment leases, and social media presence is abandoned within the month. She vanishes from her life, but she is not missed. And it’s that ingenuity, that malleability that prompts the committee to decide instinctively. Apollo, a “Jack” of All Trades. A perfect fit for a woman that simultaneously blends in and stands out. She is young, willing, and bountiful with potential. So, they build her up by breaking her down. They dismantle her skills to their bare bones; from starting off on a beam, to drawing shapes instead of restoring images. She is patient through the process, trusting in this new mold. Keen and willing, as her abilities evolve throughout the years. But it’s always been in her, deep as poison. It only needs to be drawn out.
In Jack, there is a light touch and a cold-cut sensibility. She lacks harsh lines or impassioned stances. Her motives for joining Pantheon are simple - Jack is a winner. At what, and against whom? Those were all just details. Nowhere else could pull together her expertise, and draw out the sleeping champion. Nowhere else would value the cold, vacant stare or the way attachment is rootless. She sees that - and she commits. Her specialized skill set, acting as transferable and valuable to each crew. In the years that follow, Jack evolves each of her skills. Her gymnastics turned invaluable in espionage and stealth - lithe form allowing her to blend seamlessly and without notice. No area too guarded, that her physicality cannot navigate through. Jack’s ability with a paintbrush and canvas make her a skilled counterfeiter, forging dummies for the Pantheon’s missions. And even her background of aristocracy proved beneficial. A number of learned languages, combined with her ability to mislead quickly cement her as the quintessential Apollo. She grows, until she is the grand beast that her father could only dream of. In seven years, her reputation within Pantheon’s ranks is one of cold disposition, married with a competitive venom. It’s perhaps the only time that those around her could scratch the surface - when one proved to gnaw at the insecure young girl behind the skilled woman. Despite her divisive attitude, she is adaptable and flexible to the nth degree. Poetically called Agent Monet, she is old world whimsy in a seemingly forgettable scene. A known pragmatist that leaves things as she finds it, as if she was never there at all.
