❛ if there is a light i am going to swallow it. if there is a god i'm going to make them cry. ❜
bio / skeleton / wanted connections

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❛ if there is a light i am going to swallow it. if there is a god i'm going to make them cry. ❜
bio / skeleton / wanted connections
(slightly) abbreviated application / pinterest
NINA ZENIK: penned by emily (she/her), 24, GMT.
THE BRUISER. 28. SHE/ HER. 𓆸 PENNED BY MAI
❝ i am not a maiden anymore, and i am glad to be done with that sorry state. i washed it off in blood and ocean. ❞
— application. skeleton. pinterest.
25 | she/her | grisha healer
Bio . Details . Skeleton .
HARBRINGER OF MISFORTUNE. You watched as the patterns shaped in falling bones and shards of stone spelled the course of your own misery. Day after day, year after year; unchanging and suffocating indenture. Burned orphan of Fjerda, an object arriving on the shores of Ketterdam, a thing of passive value; to be used until your breath ran thin beneath rattling lungs and your eyes sunk hollow. Inhuman and broken, but for a single flicker of hope. Faint. Far away. But burning still. 'one day,' they promised in the repetition of crow's talon and obsidian, 'one day you will be free. one day you will be feared.' Revenge isn't for the faint of heart. Yours was clutched in skeletal hands and a wash of blood, a watchful pair of eyes weighing the transaction from shadows. Found worthy, a new life was the gift exchanged for the preservation of his life. Among the Dregs, you live again; a healer, a teller of fortunes, a feral creature bound to no one but to those you choose.
━━ ❛ 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐀𝐑. 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐒𝐈𝐗. 𝐇𝐄 / 𝐇𝐈𝐌. written by abby. ( 23 , she & they , est )
he’ll say it was the light in the street that woke him, though sleep had not yet come to the shoebox room above the tavern. he’ll say it was for the shouts and pleading that he descended with his rifle, though it was in his hand before any noise had reached the window. he will have a dozen excuses for himself and the body at the end of his barrel. the truth of the matter is that matthias has war in his veins and he is tired of running.
APP ( ABRV. ). PINTEREST. PLAYLIST.
❝ 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍. 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐦 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐥, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟: 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐫, 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫, 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞. ❞
↳ Fides | 26 yrs | he/him | portrayed by dev patel
written by ishmael. 21, they/them pronouns, est.
𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ✴ 𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐧 ✴ 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠
INTRO POST –––––––––––
––––––––––– INTRO || LIGHT MODE INTRO || PINTEREST
𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄. waist deep in a fresh grave, you learned to hold your breath whilst choking on a mouthful of dirt. to reach solid ground, you’d have to traverse the blackholes of ketterdam and take what you want — the deal is the deal until it suits you otherwise ( as the turncoat now knows ). a natural villain, you’ve never been concerned with washing the blood from your hands. if you know your next move, it’s never lonely at the top. content in the cataclysm once reaped by your own gang, it was a cutthroat heist that derailed an expanse of achievements. head to head with the bastard of the barrel, you beat each other bloody; a brawl which should have put one six feet under but ended in brothers sporting deranged grins. you could have cut your losses and ran, yet ascended to the crow’s second in command, a staggering sense of fealty causing you to shake kaz brekker’s gloved hand. but a voice whispers that the dregs could be your own, and like a bad dog, you get mean when you’re nervous, plotting to take the throne.
ABOUT THE WRITER ––––––––––– hello everybody! henry jude here, from gmt+8, happy to present jozef laurens de ridder, resident lieutenant, local mess, and all-around sus crewmate.
feel free to hit me up on discord at bob from animal crossing#1047 or through tumblr im’s if you want to plot. i’ll also be hitting y’all up soon. in any case, it’s so very lovely to meet you and i look forward to writing with everybody! ✨
THE BROKER. VALDIS ZUIDERDUYN. SHE/HER. TWENTY-NINE. SQUALLER. written by iris (she/her), 26, gmt+1
IF THERE WAS A GOD HERE, they’d have raised a hand by now. so who do you serve? your own costly mistake made you an indenture as penance for ghezen, and another’s very nearly got you killed, sliced open in search of your power. you’ve never been one for morals. your family didn’t raise you on them, nor did you adopt them. you only know when you’ve been wronged, and you have become kerch enough to keep a ledger for that sort of thing: sow wind, reap storm. after you got back from foreign shores, you brought the hurricane right into ketterdam, until the wrong was righted. your debt afterwards did not bother you; you, at least, knew the value of some contracts, of honoring bargains struck, and the calm it had bought you. you have served your sentence, but threading water in the barrel does not give you desire to take flight.
GDOC. WANTED PLOTS.