#devotion.intro

[heldflesh]

TALES OF SABRY — FAIRUZ IBRAHIM.

──  (  tamino.  genderqueer,  he / they.  )  recently  seen  trapezing  across  a  lone  stage,  spotlights  dancing  off  beaded  sweat  –  audience  a  crowd  of  one,  half - asleep  or  otherwise  dead,  spirit  rising  from  still  body  in  a  chant;  encore,  encore!  bravo!  at  verve:  enter  FAIRUZ  IBRAHIM  SABRY.  twenty  six  years  old  &  a  scorpio,  usually  observed  in  tits  out;  slivers  of  chainmail  barely  concealing  loving  shark - bites  alongside  rib,  fishnet  your  only  true,  loyal  companion  –  starfish  spurs  against  heeled  boots;  aquamarine  could  never  ;  fairuz  is  a  devotion  visitor  known  within  their  circle  as  MADCAP  +  GRANDIOSE,  a  perpetual  hum  of  knife  prty  by  deftones  on  salted  mouth.  something  of  the  HUBRISTIC  +  CAVALIER  follows,  regardless  …  something  to  do  with  an  incessant  need  to  entertain  and  please,  for  oneself  and  for  others,  one  complete  theatrical  act  ,  perhaps  ?  strange,  what  a  SIREN  can  get  up  to.  they’ve  been  heard  waxing  lyrical  about  a  dream  they  had  recently,  a  strange  tale  of  lightning  against  stark  red  sea;  no  tell  of  morning  from  night  –  only  fools  dare  to  cross  the  threshold;  scaled  body  wrapped  around  splintering  wood,  ichor  flowing  from  lip  and  chest  –  harpoon  a  stake  upon  self  .  pay  no  mind  to  fanciful  star  -  gazing,  though:  rather,  mind  the  tangible.  focus  on  defense  being  a  performance  in  itself,  accusatory  points  towards  a  faceless  jury  and  judge  in  the  checkout  line  of  a  mini  mart  –  i'm  innocent,  your  honor!  hear  my  pleas,  hark  my  –  cue  one  dragged  away  by  smoothed  heels,  threats  brimming  lips  /  insatiable  hunger  and  the  habit  of  playing  with  ones  food  –  thoughts  bubbling  mid - air,  tom  and  jerry  sequence  of  cat  and  mouse,  mallet  to  head  –  cuckoos  circling;  almost  as  satisfying  as  the  kill  /  and  bone  an  accessory  –  so  sustainable  chic!  –  fish  spine  piercing  cartilage,  ribs  lining  lobe  –  cuffs  of  mysterious  vertebrae,  drilled  and  filed  and  –  .

... mentioning themes of IMPLIED MAN - EATING, SLIGHT BODY HORROR, INJURY, DEATH, and RESURRECTION. proceed with care.

with palms held out.

full name — fairuz ibrahim sabry.

nickname(s) — ruse, in a poor attempt to give himself a nickname ( did not stick ); pretty boy; puck ( perked up chee– ); narcissus, after method acting too hard– austin butler who?; others yet to be seen.

date of birth & age — october 29th, 19xx, physically twenty6.

gender / pronouns — genderqueer; he / him & they / them preferred, all welcomed.

sexuality — bisexual.

typing — siren, slut of the sea ( affectionate ).

occupation — unfortunate thespian; one man act; professional ( ? ) clown; cashier at oracle & oddysey.

astrology — scorpio sun, aries moon, leo ascending.

interests — cheap thrills. spotlight - induced sweat. anything that gleams or sheens, skin included. red meat & red wine & red lipstick in a very real, very french way. fishnet for more reasons than none. garnering attention. burlesque clowns. being a burlesque clown. six seas, don't bring up the seventh.

aversions — "deep" feelings. "deep" conversations. forced intellectualism, you can be pretentious and stupid! skeptics & nonbelievers. taxes. tax collectors. attention seekers, there can only be one ( it's them ).

next in queue — girls on film, mindless self indulgence; pain, boy harsher; slow, depeche mode; talking in your sleep, the romantics.

notable features — what's not to notice? knife - like teeth and an old scar where they nip into bottom lip every too - wide grin & lazy clown make - up; a triangle beneath every eye ( only two, for now ).

general disposition — too grand and generally delusional, but they wear it very well.

last known location — lifting himself back onto the rocks in a siren - dwelled cave like a baywatch wannabe, only to slip upon the surface and back into the water. hasn't emerged since out of hurt ego and deeply hitting embarrassment.

scrying mirror & kindred — mercutio ( romeo & juliet ), dorian gray ( the picture of dorian gray ), oberyn martell ( game of thrones ), theodore laurence ( little women ), emma woodhouse ( emma ).

what lurks in the past...

time is trivial beneath the ocean's surface; light no longer refracting, only vast blue encasing the young. first memory - first consciousness, an array of bubbles; thrashing and struggling, god mother's serpentine body wrapping around and around until all is still once more, until only bone is left to drift further down the depths.

their behavior is pack - like, school of sirens circling coasts like sharks, symbiotic and one; homes made of shipwrecks and reefs, underground caves and trenches, close to docks and ports and harbors, convenience - store runs for sailors and captains. it's rare that they break surface, walk among humans - entertainment best between selves and their food; happy meals best accompanied by toys.

fairuz is both alike and unalike them; a penchant for the finer, rawer things in life, metallic tang behind each sharp tooth, and a growing boredom, tree - like in their sternum. branching, rooting - blooming dissatisfaction with each coast they distance from. the sea felt stagnant, while every breach of ripple upon surface revealed new buildings - years meaningless to them, but everything to land dwellers.

curiosity, was all it was; curiosity all that killed them. separating from pack, intrigued by talks of a circus near - shore, a different sort of spectacle than drama between sister sirens ( they gave a mermaid's purse to you? but they gave one to me! you slu - ); fairuz became enthralled with the faeries who spun from silk, the witches who swallowed fire only to shoot fireworks from tongue - the ringleader whose smile pierced through every one of fairuz' hearts.

their visits upon land became more frequent, trailing the traveling troupe whenever able; need an incessant itch beneath their scales, a match against their ever - growing hunger. quick snacks became one, then two - doubling with each town or city swam across.

fairuz never heed the warnings of a red sky, human paranoia no toll upon their body; still broke surface, that fateful day, lightning serving them well - ship an oyster cracked wide, ready for taking. their hunger barely satiated when a whistle sung from behind; not a warning, but the sound of air tearing as a harpoon spit from its gun and ripped into their scaled flesh.

the sky was no longer red; no longer anything, the ocean's pressure luring them into their endless slumber; reminiscent of their youth, when they welcomed the sea's warm embrace like their own mother's. comfortable. warm. safe. do you wish to live, siren?

voice clear as day; like a whisper into their ear, soft and urging. you can live forever, if you please. if their consciousness was still awake - fairuz would've found the humor in being siren - called; instead, their spirit stirred inside them, hands pressed upon their former living shell. let us save you. let us free you. just say yes.

sirenkin, their family: the choice to leave was no one's but fairuz', one of their few regrets in life; visiting sirens of devo, do you know this fucker?

righteous fishermen with penchants for revenge: slow your rolls - fairuz' is just a little guy, a little fella! and they should be dead! right? ... right?

...comes to light in present...

five years resurrected, five years given to delphinium's traveling, theatrical circus troupe and one would've never guessed; a puzzle piece fitting just right against an entirely wrong picture, the epitome of a live, laugh, love sign hung crooked against a contemporary farmhouse kitchen wall - fairuz dazzles all. or pisses them off - either, or - all of the above; attention is attention, and fairuz craves it almost as much as they crave fle-

they awake the same everyday; a life - rattling exhale of breath, gasping and hoarse like the first time they reopened their eyes; almost comedic, hand trailing to the star - like scar upon their chest - a tale better left unsaid, in accordance to delphinium. they know best - better than fairuz, at least; knows what secrets are best kept, while fairuz spills open at any given moment, at any curious glance.

he's all emotion; nothing cool, nothing collected - only extravagant, demanding; eyes on them at all times. dramatics started at the blink of a single one of those eyes - constantly performing for an unknown audience, never caring if others are swept up by his current. takes good intentions and swallows them for his own benefit; you wouldn't trust a god, would you?

the circus settled in devotion just short of a few months ago; no signs of leaving yet - performances weekly, each and every weekend and occasionally wednesdays, if audience demands then who are they to gatekeep? fairuz lurks beneath the sea's rippling surface some days - sleeps behind the counter of oracle & oddsyey's other days; a siren needs a little spending money, after all; especially him, pockets usually barren and closets overflowing. otherwise can be found wherever there's a crowd.

traveling circus troupe [ menacing voice from behind, hey sis- ]: fairuz' found family. faeries and witches and humans and sirens and nymphs alike, all welcomed as long as they harness talent. don't ask why fairuz' is there; only delphinium knows.

a horde of angry lovers: a necessity in every town, devotion no different. fairuz is more wrong than right, would rather end up in a second grave than admit it.

...and carries into the future.

how long can a corpse walk for, before their magic runs out? before they've stolen all the energy left inside, until blood is shed once more - theirs and others, and others and theirs. prophecies tell of moon falling back into sea and never - rising once more, fallen on unwilling ears - fairuz' mostly, forever pig - headed, too busy gazing upon reflections.

how many enemies, can one make? scorned lovers of lovers, scorned friends betrayed for the slightest whim, abandoned on impulse. scorned family - sick of antics, of fairuz' thoughts that only revolve around himself.

fairuz never worries of the future. but perhaps they should.

prophecy - spewing nymphs: they heed not their warnings, demise be damned - you'd think fairuz would know better by now.

friends to enemies: a eventual happening, slow at first, but like all fire - the more it grows, the farther it spreads.

[fetteredhope]

—— ( emilio sakraya. demi man, he/they. ) recently seen skateboarding at the boardwalk: enter ZAKARIA QADIR. twenty-seven years old & a sagittarius, usually observed in oversized t-shirts, baggy ripped jeans - far more jewelry than is safe for a skater; zak is a devotion local known within their circle as SPRIGHTLY + TENACIOUS, a perpetual hum of have you ever seen the rain by credence clearwater revival on salted mouth. something of the AUDACIOUS + OBTUSE follows, regardless … something to do with losing yourself to nothing but the wind thanks to the board beneath your feet - it feels eerily like home now, perhaps ? strange, what a GHOST can get up to. they’ve been heard waxing lyrical about a dream they had recently, a strange tale of a family that’s finally accepted you after years of hopping home to home. this one doesn’t stand long - there’s heat and smoke and breathing is impossible, but they always wake up before it can end the way they think it does. pay no mind to fanciful star - gazing, though: rather, mind the tangible. focus on knees that have been skinned so many times they’re perma-scarred now, choosing to laugh instead of cry whenever he’s upset - crying never did any good for him anyway, becoming attached to friends easily; they’re his found family after all. / committed to legend by bri, twenty6, they/she, est.

below are mentions of abuse, death, fire, & violence!

stats.

name: zakaria qadir.

nickname: zak.

age: twenty seven.

gender identity: demi man.

pronouns: he/they.

sexuality: bisexual.

birthday: december 22, 1995.

star sign: sagittarius.

myer-briggs: esfp.

occupation: n/a.

place of birth: devotion, south of tene.

last played on spotify: slide feat. frank ocean & migos by calvin harris.

general disposition: breezy and bullheaded.

background.

when zak was born, he spent all of 5 minutes with his mother before she was up and running off from the hospital, leaving him behind with nothing but his name

life after that was more or less the same theme - people took him in for weeks, months at a time if he was lucky, before he was eventually either kicked to the curb or a ‘better family’ was ready for him

none of the foster homes ever wanted to take him in; witches and nymphs thought him too lackluster, humans never understood his obsession with the creatures of devotion - he just never seemed to be able to fit in

of course he had friends growing up, foster siblings he kept close to his heart and still does to this day, but he’d always been obsessed with the idea of found family, of someone picking him because they actually wanted him, not because there was government money involved

there were bouts of abuse, neglect, days where zak would run away and spend freezing nights on the streets, but it didn’t change his personality; deep down to his core, zak had always been loving and selfless, albeit a bit too reckless and temperamental for his own good

around the time he was 17 and just about to age out of the foster system, a family took him in, and zak immediately knew something was different with this home - it didn’t take them a week before they were asking him to allow them to adopt him into their lives forever

it’d been a good 10 years after that; zak found his family, and he had a good set of friends, maybe he could use some work with the head on his shoulders, he still found himself in constant trouble but he was loved and taken care of, so it didn’t matter

visiting home for his birthday and the christmas holidays last year was a tradition - but when zak went to bed that night, it would be the last time he ever fell asleep, waking up weeks later confused and disoriented, and a ghost after the only family he’d known had died tragically alongside him in a house fire

ever since, zak’s known something was off, wrong about him - it was easy to just assume his family was like all the others in the end, never reaching out to him anymore, leaving him behind

it was even easier to stick with this theory when he found himself incapable of going near where their home used to stand; every time zak gets close, there’s a reason to turn around, an excuse to abandon his search and just leave them behind, make everything easier

zak’s never expressed to any of his friends he still has that he’s a ghost, mostly due to being unaware himself - he still knows there’s something off, but there’s also something keeping him from getting the answers he wants and needs, and after years of fighting, zak’s just found it far easier to pretend everything’s fine. even if he can’t go home, his chest feels hollow, and sleep escapes him no matter how exhausted he feels.

details.

literally just. a loving goofball, super protective, has gotten into several dangerous fights for his friends before he just loves too fiercely when he accepts people into his life

an adrenaline junkie through and through

still loves skateboarding, can be found stuck in a loop for hours sometimes of him just coasting down the boardwalk and laughing without realizing he’s been caught in the same moment - once for almost a whole day straight

becomes very attached very easily!!!!! its honestly destroyed some friendships and has definitely ruined relationships; becomes clingy, untrusting, scared of people leaving him etc.

it’s also made hookups a mess tho he does in fact. Participate in those Quite Frequently

there are of course details in his past life that he’s forgotten, and struggles to discuss if they’re ever brought up, accepting his death is just. Not Going To Be An Easy Task.

connections.

zak is definitely still close w a lot of foster siblings he’s had in the past so any of them!!

maybe. someone that was a part of the foster family that passed and wasn’t there the day of the house fire…….

just friends in general :D from childhood, high school, more recent etc.

ppl he’s fought in honour of friends/partners he’s had in the past

enemies fr other reasons mayhaps???

exes….. he’d have lots on both good and bad terms</3

current and past hookups!!

thats all i have so far but tbh hes an open book lets get wild.

[ofsupernovcs]

  (   wei zheiming .  cis man ,  he/him   )    recently  seen being told what "wouldn't you like to know weather boy" and sighing to himself at  old cape's landing    enter  HAO SHIRONG  .  twenty eight  years  old    &    a  scorpio,  usually  observed  in  wire rimmed glasses, argyle sweater vest, and mismatching socks  with varying characters on them  ;    Shin  is  a  devotion  visitor  known  within  their  circle  as  COMPASSIONATE  +  CLEVER,  a  perpetual  hum  of  all star  by  smash mouth  on  salted  mouth.  something  of  the  INTROVERTED  +  STUBBORN  follows,  regardless    …    something  to  do  with  the  reason  they’re  spotted  at old cape's landing,  perhaps    ?    strange,  what  a nymph  can  get  up  to.  they’ve  been  heard  waxing  lyrical  about  a  dream  they  had  recently,  a  strange  tale  of  someone who looks like him having searing through their fingertips as they muttered the words who is laughing now.  pay  no  mind  to  fanciful  star  -  gazing,  though:  rather,  mind  the  tangible.  the scattered papers flying through the wind, the lopsided grin you get when a song comes on, and the tittering weather report music blaring from those old time tvs    committed  to  legend  by

Born into a military family, life was never stable for shirong

Trying to fit the shoes of his various older brothers, he found himself alone

He wanted to be normal but something within him didn't feel normal

But after a brief stint in the army he opted to become a meterologist

And every network practically rejected him accepted for the one town of devotion

Many would wonder why he visits but shirong likes the environment

And something about the water hypnotizes too

Personality

Nice but kinda sarcastic

Guarded but loving

Will give you the shirt off his back

Weirdly afraid of water

Professional in news cast but often memed on

[seekdevotion]

*          𝐈𝐓❜𝐒  𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄  !  𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐃𝐀𝐘  𝐈𝐒  𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄  !  trots  around  screaming  my  brains  off  (headache  still  intact  btw)  but  please,  our feel  free  to  go  through  our  following and follow your fellow writers  +  perhaps  revise  on  the  checklist  one  more  time  and  post  your  intros  in  #devotion.intro  for  us  &  everyone  to  see  and  kick  our  feets  over  and  commence  the  plotting  !  i'll  be  going  around  sending  out  discord  invites  in  a  short  bit  so  perhaps  a  jumpscare  and  a  kiss  or  two  in  your  ims  in  a  sec  x

[heldflesh]

TALES OF ST. GERMAIN — CARNELIAN LARAMIE.

──  (  jonathan  daviss.  nonbinary,  they / them.  )  recently  seen  flashing  bathroom  -  goers  their  daily  tarots  while  sat  upon  a  crooked  sink  (  you're  seeking  an  endless  fortune  ...  in  the  form  of  a  line  the  next  stall  over,  that  you'll  share  with  me  right?  righ  –  ),  wafts  of  smoke  between  each  word    at  freezer  bride's:  enter  CARNELIAN  LARAMIE  ST.  GERMAIN.  twenty  six  years  old  &  a  cancer,  usually  observed  in  well  -  worn  band  shirts,  always  cropped  at  navel  –  scandalizing!  incentive!  never  done  before!  –  moth  -  bitten  holes  affixed  with  charms;  lucky  trinkets  and  protective  wards,  home  -  sewn  by  a  doting  mother,  the  same  that  hang  in  the  cuffs  of  cracking  leather  jackets  and  between  the  laces  of  steel  -  toed  boots    ;  carn  is  a  devotion  local  known  within  their  circle  as  EFFULGENT  +  SEDULOUS,  a  perpetual  hum  of  rock  -  n  -  roll  victim  by  death  on  salted  mouth.  something  of  the  OVERWROUGHT  +  QUIXOTIC  follows,  regardless  …  something  to  do  with  the  belief  that  sharing  IS  caring  –  barney  told  us  so.  are  you  going  to  forsake  barney?  our  one,  true  god?  our  sav  –  and  a  thumb  -  swept  sniffle  ,  perhaps  ?  strange,  what  a  WITCH  can  get  up  to.  they’ve  been  heard  waxing  lyrical  about  a  dream  they  had  recently,  a  strange  tale  of  a  god  inside  oneself;  metallic  tang  against  tongue  as  muscle  stretch  and  split,  making  room  for  a  new  entity  to  take  hold,  to  make  home  out  of  borrowed  flesh  –  body  a  vessel,  a  calling,  a  devotion.  pay  no  mind  to  fanciful  star  -  gazing,  though:  rather,  mind  the  tangible.  focus  on  cassette  tapes  handed  out  for  every  emotion  felt;  every  moment  passed,  every  thought  had  (  imbued  with  good  luck  and  protection,  and  the  yearning  that  is  two  heads  knocked  together  under  one  comically  large  headphone  )  /  starlight  just  within  grasp,  white  -  hot  fingertips  and  a  familiar  buzz  within  one's  chest;  craning  against  dark  sky,  toes  against  treacherous  ledge,  crumbling  dirt  beneath  –  just  a  little  longer,  just  a  little  closer  –  the  world  on  tilts,  rotating,  spinning;  falling  /  the  soothing  rock  of  a  triple  -  decker  boat,  layers  built  upon  layers  –  always  a  room,  always  a  place  –  accommodating  warmth,  siren  call  a  sweet  lullaby,  familiar  –  soothing  .  /

... mentioning themes of HAPPY FAMILIES, MANIPULATING STARS, DRUGS, and ANXIETY. proceed with care.

with palms held out.

full name — carnelian laramie st. germain.

nickname(s) — carn; neil ( to assert dominance over twink!neil; alternatively, if you hate carn and want them to di– ); lars ( steven universe tease, only if you hate carn and want them to di– twice over ); laramoo ( mothers, affectionately; siblings, maliciously ); red.

date of birth & age — june 30th, 1997, twenty6.

gender / pronouns — non - binary, agender; they / them.

sexuality — queer.

typing — witch, but extra cool ( just a normal witch, but with a leather jacket ).

occupation — astrology bullshitter; tarot reader; amateur wizard ( virginal or not left to be seen, life school in wizards101 ); proud band member; manager at diner 54.

astrology — cancer sun, pisces moon, virgo ascending.

interests — ska punk, they don't need help. any instrument involving blowing, strumming, or any variation of fondling. daily horoscopes. smoking. fishing, but with their bare hands to establish dominance over the fish. worship of a new idol every week.

aversions — riding their bike into the creek for the 5th time that week. come downs. the color "greige", like what even is that? losing against the fish. industry plants, both hollywood and nuclear. their never - ending spiral of thoughts.

next in queue — blank generation, richard hell and the voidoids; sound system, operation ivy; bulls on the parade, rage against the machine; sunshine ward, amebix.

notable features — more tattoos than bare skin, ever - changing, ever - moving & charms sewn into every hemline, hanging from every piercing adorning nose and lip and brow.

general disposition — like they're about to shit themselves out of fear & excitement, maybe both.

last known location — sprawled half - out of a shoddy van behind diner 54, half - convinced that they're transforming into a slug; oddly concerned about their internal body temperature and if they'd still be loved if they were just a shell - less snail.

scrying mirror & kindred — lane kim ( gilmore girls ), nino quincampoix ( amélie ), ned ( pushing daisies ), winston bishop ( new girl ), norville "shaggy" rogers ( scooby doo ).

what lurks in the past...

devotion, one and only - nothing else known. years of family in one setting, one sitting; one rocking boat, layers built upon layers. only leaving just to return again, to re - meet smiling faces; fish and treasure in tow, new trinkets entangled in netting, shells a collection against windowsill and rail, never moving despite sharp upturn of wave.

each st. germain is born on - deck, tradition dating back to the first st. germain; ever - mysterious, superstitious and warding. those born upon their boat - more house than ship - thought to be forever safe from harm, building belief magic of its own. carnelian far from first, and far from last; fatefully middle child, but the woes of such never touching them. loved, just the same as one another.

their generation is born to magic, innate but not taught; family grimoire long lost to depths far beneath them, water not even they can lurk in - became more comfort than necessity over the years, fishing enough to keep them comfortable, settled. the oldest unaccepting of this, begins the family's hunt. seeks the unseekable, speak the unspeakable.

carnelian is intrigued; practicing on their own, magic at first weak but stable - tarot more game than serious intuition, until intuition swallows them whole. prone to bouts of unpredictability, turning against them as emotions sway alongside reefs against water, against wind. each spell's attempt is anxiety - latched; hand gripping upon shoulder, sinking them into ground; head a mess of thoughts, tornado ripping up tree and house.

every st. germain has a plan laid out; ambitious lot, wanting power of their own for one reason or another; carnelian is simple - wants the joy of it, wants to soothe their own thoughts, entertain friends and fans alike. the oceans calls to some, the moon to others; the stars to carnelian, shining brighter for them than anyone else. some nights sat upon angel's peak; they hear their whispers among one another, is that one of us? another fallen star? brethren, kindred, o' stardust of mine?

the more carnelian studies; the louder the whispers seem, brighter against the sky - almost visible beside the sun, places they shouldn't be. they want something from them, something intangible; something unfathomable - undecipherable, despite hours spent crossed against the moon, spliff in hand as limb leers precariously off cliffs edge. what does it all mean - what do they want?

they want a god reborn; brought to fruition, breathed back to life - each vessel unworthy except for one; a lanky body, softly unproportioned, unexpected and unassuming. their dreams litter with the memories of stardust, of creation; stars forming and dying, colliding into one another; more nights than not they awaken burning hot, sweating through cloth and out of bed, closer and closer towards the cliff.

carnelian severs the line; afraid of the night sky, and how it wants to swallow them whole - they stopped visiting the stars, stopped heeding the nebulous. sleep lessens - fearful of their grip upon them, parasocial a whole new meaning. if it goes ignored - they'll go away, right? stars burst eventually, don't they?

friends of family and of childhood: while not well to do; the st. germain family is practically devo legend, knows just about everyone and everything. friendships span generations, or sometimes just years.

relatives of the st. germains: extended family, in all their glory; fishermen and witches alike, mortal or not; half - nymph cousins and nephews and nieces with the blood of fae inside.

...comes to light in present...

magic's not abandoned; just shift - geared, other options explored; options that don't compel carnelian to join the stars above, horoscopes stuck to the daily newspaper only, still read loyally. it takes form of illusions and small tricks; the wind picking up more than usual, lightning calls from overhead. it's cloudier at night now, than before; can barely see the moon, let alone stars. aura cleansings and healings; repenting for their subconscious calling for godhood, still nails clawing skull.

they keep busy, picking up instruments at their pleasure; playing a slow ballad of girls just wanna have fun at the back of a smoky van, crying induced afterwards. mind meld, for funsies - distract from their own thoughts by lifting the lid onto others; nosy a trait they cannot escape, knowing more than most. lips remain sealed. not out of loyalty, not many deserving of such a trait - nor of nefarious intent and future plotting. more a hub of information, than anything else; wealth in it.

natural skeptic of others; hard not to be in devotion, where one wrong step lands you inside a fairy ring, or a very convincing con between two sirens with the taste for finer things who really, really want your wallet. not to say they're not kind, they are; gives more of themselves than they intend, stumbles over themselves at times just to give it. over - righteous at times, an icon of saying i told you so in a smug tone, we get it - you've got great intuition, whatever; at least others aren't reenacting the bee movie with polaris.

carnelian is a little too optimistic; often blinded by their own wants, than what is reasonable or sound - shit at advice, echoes of follow your heart, drop everything and chase them! eat that edib - can barely make their own decisions without haywire, while simultaneously avoiding new, only embracing old. has managed the same diner since early adulthood - claims nowhere else would feel the same. a slut for temptation, and what cannot, or shouldn't be had; has gotten good at fighting quickened breath and nervous glances.

oh guide me, master jedi: someone more experienced than carnelian, who probably knows more about magic; or pretend to. god knows they need the help, lest they start lusting over stardust again.

serenades of the cheesiest, worst renditions of songs: no one can stop carnelian from yearning. a friend can be a lover, so can a stranger - who could resist an 80's boombox outside window scene?

...and carries into the future.

how long can one stay ignorant to their call? it's persistent, still; a continued whisper at the base of their skull, the farthest corner of their mind - backed into it, and growling. hungry for the attention. is it really the stars? or manipulation from another, a beckoning call for something else altogether?

it's not like the stars can craft a new grimoire for their family; what's the point of it all? their siblings have all gone off on their own routes; maybe it's time for them to find an alternative, to chase down their family spells - to find what is lost.

confusion only grows at the back of carnelian's mind, what's real, and what isn't?

the call of a stranger: a mysterious being not yet known, are they the one beckoning carnelian? what purpose is there - or maybe it's all a ruse. a false prophet. a trick.

treasure hunters! hunt that treasure!: down in the murky depths of the ocean, siren territory - lays the st. germain grimoire. they've promised a hefty reward for whoever companies them on their mission; a reward they don't yet have.

[fetteredhope]

—— ( geraldine viswanathan. cis woman, she/her. ) recently seen serving at diner 54: enter ROBIN ELODIE SHRIKE. twenty-eight years old & a capricorn, usually observed in graphic t-shirts, leather jackets, and oversized cargos ; robin is a devotion local known within their circle as COMPOSED + NURTURING, a perpetual hum of me by the 1975 on salted mouth. something of the AFFECTLESS + FICKLE follows, regardless … something to do with working dead end jobs, because who really cares in the end, perhaps ? strange, what a HUMAN can get up to. they’ve been heard waxing lyrical about a dream they had recently, a strange tale of a familiar laugh, but there’s an echo that leaves the room feeling cold. it’s hollow and forced, but she’ll take what she can get. pay no mind to fanciful star - gazing, though: rather, mind the tangible. focus on rolling her eyes at her favourite twinks despite how much she actually loves them, flipping off customers the second they try it with her, dark lipstick; dark eyeshadow; dark attire. / committed to legend by bri, twenty6, they/she, est.

below are mentions of chronic illness & hospitalization!

stats.

name: robin elodie shrike.

nickname: rob, robby.

age: twenty eight.

gender identity: cis woman.

pronouns: she/her.

sexuality: lesbian.

birthday: january 15, 1995.

star sign: capricorn.

myer-briggs: intp.

occupation: waitress at diner 54.

place of birth: devotion, south of tene.

last played on spotify: until the night turns by lord huron.

general disposition: indifferent and judgmental.

background.

the youngest of two older brothers, robin came into the world loudly and aggressively, and it was merely a precursor to how she’d always read

life growing up wasn’t horrible, her parents were loving and their family had money - mum being the owner of a massive publishing company and dad being a big name editor, also the owners of shrike point light library

however it felt as if they were never satisfied, always pushing for more even when their kids were at the top of their classes and heavily involved in as many extracurriculars as they could

it eventually mottled her relationship with her brothers - she was always close with the oldest shrike kid josef, but malcolm had a bad case of middle child syndrome and distanced himself entirely, from their parents and definitely from josef, who was the best of them in their parents eyes

robin herself didn’t purposely act out - she just stopped caring……… academics to her came with ease, she was lucky to be naturally very smart, but she felt no desire to ever challenge herself in her extracurriculars and classes the way her parents wanted her to

she graduated high school and… that was basically it, she never tried to go to university, wrinkled her nose at the idea of taking community college classes as a pass time, she was just done and though her parents hated it, she was free of their judgment

she’s been working at diner 54 for 10 years now - while robin’s free, she feels the opposite of stuck; she loves devotion and plans on staying there for as long as she lives, with her rag tag somewhat dysfunctional group of friends she’s had since she was little

thought it felt like nothing was happening for her, robin didn’t mind it at all; she would give anything to go back to those days before josef fell incredibly sick - a lung infection that resulted in a transplant, which seemed like the worst of it, until his body began to reject the transplant and he’s been in hospital ever since

details.

when she’s not at work, robin’s either in a dingy bar with her friends or at the hospital visiting josef - she has her own cot permanently left in his room for when she has to serve late into the night and visiting hours are technically over

a big reader!!!! ig it runs in the family fr

the epitome of grunge/punk kid

is secretly quite loving and she does make it known with friends but she’s openly sneered in customers faces before if they were rude to her or even bc she thought their dinner orders were Ass

as a human she’s incredibly intrigued and fascinated with the devotion creatures, especially witches of which a lot of her friends are

she can be a bit selfish in her requests and demands sometimes but she just wants to watch people use their powers its cool ok.

is the lesbian mom to her fav twinks around town that she protects like they’re her own children

connections.

needs roommates pls, at least 2!!!

bffs/childhood friends

ppl who work at diner 54 with her!!

someone added to her twink collection :) 

exes!! that ended on good and bad terms

hook ups/fwbs

someone she knows thru her brothers/grew up with them/family friends etc.

anything n everything teehee