kais-muses

[kais-muses]

nash alvarez // muse with gnawed :v tw: familial death

name: nash alvarez age: 27 fc: samuel larsen personality: Nash is fairly grounded, not bothering to place his trust in the hands of hope. It’s do or die, and sitting on his ass isn’t going to get him anywhere. Growing up on his home-planet among the older mechanics has made him a bit of a flirt, always eager to find a piece, but he never has ill-intentions. Straight-forward in what he says, Nash doesn’t tend to beat around the bush. Of course, being a gambler does let him play the long-game if necessary, although he’d much rather break down the maze walls rather than solve it. Loyalty is important to Nash, and so long as he isn’t going back on his word he sees himself free to do what he pleases so long as it causes no physical harm to others.

skills: mechanic intelligence, ship maintenance, understanding of technology, gambling, cheating, card games, pool, fist-fights and shoot-outs.

bio:

Nash grew up on a large dust-bowl of a planet. Dry-mouth and sweat are common to him, just as much as the grease that somehow finds to smear itself across his cheek as he worked. During the day Nash made an honest living working as an apprentice mechanic, his teacher taking him in when his parents passed soon after he was born. At night when all the staff would find themselves at the local pub to drink off a long day, Nash would be the first person with a deck of cards in his hand.

Losing isn’t in Nash’s dictionary. He’s good with his hands, and sometimes stacking a deck isn’t so hard to do once you play a few rounds and get an idea of where all the cards lay. Of course, he’d lose some nights-- just so the other guys didn’t catch whiff of his games. His teacher needed food to feed them both, tools to work on parked crafts, and rent to pay off protection fees of dirty guards and the like. He was just doing his part.

For someone that seemed to be doing fine for himself, nobody would imagine Nash had dreams of his own. Dark eyes would stare up at constellations, fingers pointing out the different planets that encircled the poverty-rock he was supposed to call home. It wasn’t much longer until the dust in his teacher’s lungs became just a little too thick. Coughing fits became a norm, and eventually, there was a whole year that only Nash worked in the shop. What came next was quiet and peaceful. No pain, no loud displays of fear. Just acceptance.

The shop he grew up in didn’t have the For-Sale sign for long. It was bought quickly, and now Nash could leave this planet without any guilt in his heart. All the tools he and his teacher used were packed up in his bags alongside clothes and a few sentimental pieces. Not much else other than some dice and decks of cards. Boarding a ship as an on-board mechanic, Nash was eager to see what was beyond the stars.

[kais-muses]

silas wright // muse with x-artdeco :y

name: silas wright  age: 30 fc: matthew daddario bio: 

Silas is sometimes jealous that others don’t grasp the weariness that can run deep in his core. The fatigue that can accompany one that’s inclined to perceive the veil. To see the way it intertwines with the world with it’s golden vibrancy can be a beautiful thing. It’s so thin, so frail, yet it has forever stood strong in keeping these overlapping realms just out of one another’s grasp. To walk the line is to know both, and always knowing more than you should. Although, so long as balance is demanded from the universe, there is just as much cold, darkened power that flows from that gossamer-like sheet. You can grab just about anything from that space if you know where to look. For the Wright family, it’s an honor that’s pulsed through their blood as long as their family tree has been recorded. Seers, weavers, mediumship-- they’ve seen it all one way or another. 

Alchemy and Ashes is Silas’ way of helping mankind. He doesn’t get the prophetic visions his sister can induce, nor does he channel voices of those that have left his plane to comfort the living like his brother. To alter his surroundings is his talent-- or, ‘basic spellcraft’ as they would call it. Protecting a home of invasions, undoing a curse, or even summoning the beings that sit at the veil’s door. The witch was never one for the limelight that his siblings seemed eager to sit in. Silas preferred his weird books and avoiding the larger crowds. Helping people one-on-one is where his personality shines, the somewhat aloof attitude, and the smallest smirk when he finds something funny. 

While Silas’ demeanor can be seem like an ill-fitted match for this city, A&A is seated in a location where the veil seems thinner than others. Trained eyes can see how small cracks leak the golden power, accidentally harnessed by those that blindly walk into it’s light. Silas can smell the things that lurk in this giant playground, and certainly, he’s got his work cut out for him.