#lawlesssintro

[ofcruelheart]

* ◟ : 〔 KIM JINWOO , NONBINARY + HE / THEY 〕 DEAW AHN , some say you’re a THIRTY TWO YEAR OLD lost soul among the neon lights. known for being both PURE and NAIVE, one can’t help but think of DREAMER by TALLEST MAN ON EARTH when you walk by. are you still a BLADE RUNNER, REPLICANT, “CASTRATO” for STONEAGE INDUSTRIES, NEW YORK CITY METROPOLITAN OPERA HOUSE, even with your reputation as THE INGENUE? i think we’ll be seeing more of you and SINGING ARIAS TO THE DOVECOTE, THE SHARP GLINT OF A PISTOL LAYING PUSHED TO THE WAYSIDE ON A DESK BESIDE A BOUQUET AND JEWELS, DREAMS OF A BLOODLESS PEACE, although we can’t help but think of LUCY WESTENRA ( DRACULA ) + ALEC ( NIGHTRUNNER ) + CECILE ( DANGEROUS LIAISONS ) whenever we see you down these rainy streets.

Name: Deaw Ahn Age: “32” Gender: Nonbinary Pronouns: He/They Orientation: Bisexual Species: Replicant Occupation: Bladerunner Civilian Occupation: "Castrato" at Metropolitan Opera House Tropes: The Ingenue, The Heart, Silk Hiding Steel, Beauty is Goodness Expanded Aesthetic: walking barefoot through the glade while cicadas hum / mourning hymns cast over an animal night / laying bare and prone upon dew and dirt, listening for primordial song / an ore split open at the seam / nightingales shivering free of their oaks, taking to a black sky / tenderness and rebellion, love and wrath in one breath Singing Voiceclaim: xSpeaking Voiceclaim: x History (TLDR below): tw - mentions of violence

life begins with a song.

your mothers are women of the earth, nymphs brimming with love and temper.

a spat in the morning, a riot over lunch, a reconciliation coupled with the din of a record fuzzily crooning speakeasy jazz and mournful blues. the pines beyond their little wooden home whisper hushed hymns of animal secrets and primordial ciphers.

life is full of ancient melody out here, and you want to be the mouthpiece.

moonshot, you long to be the herd of silver deer galloping through the dark, the owl howl, the mourning nightingale.

how to raise a fledgling starchild. alone. by sinistra ton

do not hide anything. tell the truth, but tell it beautifully. he is as untamed as he is a thing of bent stems. he will catch the scent of a half-lie as if it's drenched in rot. i've told him everything - everything, save for the letter left behind.

do not clip a wildling's wings. she had tried, when it was just us, with our bedroom door shut, or when the boy was out in the forest.

nurture a generous heart. he returns from his trips to town with a new stray. darling boy of gilt heart, rabbit-in-the-thicket child. too lovely. unfit for this world. you tell him so while he washes the rain from wild berries, brushing hair from his eyes. beware the calloused hand that reaches for yours. it has touched thorns like yours to pick at the rose.

do not lie. he finds the note. he knows lucia has left. he knows i refused to go, that i refused to let her take him too. he is silent, rounds his mouth on 'betrayal' - i collapse.

do not stop him when he leaves. his cheeks are still tearstained when he leaves for the city - he kisses my brow tenderly. he says, i will bring her back.

...

...

...

his memories end there. he learns later that his former memory-maker was replaced with one more efficient, more mindful of Stoneage's objectives. his memories become that of training, of honing his lethality, his agility, his ruthlessness when duty calls for him. and when it calls, he loathes it. in spite of his new memory-maker, he hates what he has been made to do.

instead, he dreams of what the first memory-maker must have been like, to give him such resplendent, romantic memories, to bequeath upon him such a personal, noble goal as finding his missing mother. to gift him a singing voice that has been extinct without the injury that usually accompanies it. this figure shrouded in mystery, this enigma, must be kind. must be loving. must embrace love and art and song and nature and must be so far disparate from the clinical business of Stoneage and the concrete jungle of new york.

perhaps they hated what they were made to do too.

tldr:

deaw (named after morning dew - actually the old english way of spelling it) was adopted by two women (sinistra and lucia) who lived on the outskirts of rural new york in their homestead, following a sustainable lifestyle. life was musical, ideal, and isolated, with leisure time spent running alongside deer, singing to the moon, and bathing in the wild rivers.

life is idyllic until lucia ups and leaves overnight, seemingly with no warning signs, and no attempt at communication. the remaining family is heartbroken, but carry on as best they can, though deaw is particularly wounded by the sudden abandonment. 

years pass. chance leads to deaw discovering a letter addressed to sinistra from lucia dated the night the latter left, and he sets off to find her.

PSYCH. he is a replicant bladerunner. up until this bullet, his memories were fabricated by a memory-maker; it is this same memory-maker who made him sweet and whimsical and wild, who gave him a natural extinct castrato's voice (without the horrific injury so well-associated with the practice) so he could sing with the wild birds, who made him find love and beauty even in the darkest and most decrepit places. abrubtly, this memory-maker was replaced by another more... efficient. one that helped hone him into a more ruthless bladerunner.

unfortunately, the work of a bladerunner goes against his very nature crafted by his first memory-maker. though he is extremely skilled, he hates the work, hates that he was also made to be so proficient at retiring replicants. secretly, he yearns for a future free of stoneage industries, and he dreams of one day meeting his first memory-maker. to understand them. to better understand himself.

SUMMARY: deaw is a creature of contradictions and dichotomies, love and wrath, tenderness and easy, fleeting touches and a penchant for altruism and restlessness. a made nymph, as wild and freefalling as his 'mothers', but with a great affection and tenderness towards his fellow 'man'. unfortunately, he's an incredibly proficient bladerunner.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

unfortunate replicants who are on his list to 'retire'

patrons and benefactors at the opera house, particularly those fascinated by his famous 'castrato' voice but without the actual practice associated with it having forced upon him. 1000% he is marketed as possessing an extinct voice.

both his memory-makers!!!!

fellow employees at stoneage - those who sympathize with him and those who are deplete of any empathy for his plight

fellow romantics and wildlings

people who can yell at him for being so enamored with nature and love and art in this age of tech and modernity

[ofcruelheart]

* ◟ : 〔 DEVON AOKI , CIS WOMAN + SHE / HER 〕 AZUSA FUJIWARA , some say you’re a THIRTY SEVEN YEAR OLD lost soul among the neon lights. known for being both HEADSTRONG and IMPULSIVE, one can’t help but think of MIZU SUITE by AMIE DOHERTY when you walk by. are you still a CAPO, FREELANCE MERMAID for THE DEAD HAND, SELF-EMPLOYED, even with your reputation as THE BLACK PEARL? i think we’ll be seeing more of you and LUMINESCENT PEARLS AND SHELLS INLAID WITHIN THE HILT OF KATANAS, BARE FEET DANCING UPON SHATTERED GLASS AS THEY WOULD UPON AN OCEAN FLOOR, RUEFULLY STARING INTO THE HORIZON AND DENYING YOUR OWN HOMESICKNESS, although we can’t help but think of MIZU ( BLUE EYE SAMURAI ) + OYUKI ( LADY SNOWBLOOD ) + YOR FORGER ( SPY X FAMILY ) whenever we see you down these rainy streets.

Name: Azusa Fujiwara Age: 37 Pronouns: She/Her Orientation: Bisexual Affiliation, Role: The Dead Hands, Capo Occupation: Previously, an ama, a pearl diver--she will always consider herself as such; currently a freelance mermaid Notable Attributes: Cutting, thrilling dark eyes, hair the color and luminescence of undyed silk trailing down to her waist, unrivaled agility, a siren's grace in and out of water but a sailor's mouth, literally deranged logic Tropes: Silk Hiding Steel, Disproportionate Retribution, Lady of War, Didn't Think This Through, Insane Troll Logic, Lightning Bruiser

tw: murder

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海女

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Their lineage trace its origins to ama during the Heian period—Japanese divers plunging into the depths for pearls and abalone, offerings destined for shrines or emperors. The women of the family mastering the art of reading tides and waves, rendering their descent into the abyss more fruitful. They wear white in their dives to symbolize purity and to ward away sharks. Sometimes they wear nothing at all. Their pearls delicately grace the bosoms of consorts, and their abalones, plump and fat, bedeck the altar. Among ama, they are revered.

Nearly two thousand years later, the demands in their craft and the bounty of their catches dwindle. While the pearl cultivation technique has since developed, and ama divers are no longer required, its success wouldn’t have been possible without their contribution. Her lineage, in particular, has transformed into a tourist attraction at Mikimoto Pearl Island, captivating visitors with their daily diving demonstrations at the museum. It is a humiliation, her mother bemoans, a far cry from their days of lining crowns and shrines with pearls, but she is in the minority. The rest of their kin, and the other ama, are grateful there is still a place for them at all to share their art. Azusa thinks the act of serving has simply shifted. From shrines and emperors to tourists and gift shops.

In spite of this, they find she is a marvel underwater, carving through currents and waves like a knife, emerging from the depths with oysters cradling the largest, roundest pearls. She remains silent as they are transported to the museum shop, celebrated as treasures hand-captured by one of Japan's oldest pearl-diving lineages. Her demonstrations at the museum become among the most beloved, thanks in part to her showmanship—how she entertains the crowds with graceful acrobatics during her dives, earning her the moniker 'The Mermaid of Mikimoto' for her swift maneuvers beneath the cresting waves and her enigmatic smile as she unveils the bounty concealed within an oyster.

It is during one of her demonstrations that she notices a group of foreigners engaged in boisterous conversation, their laughter permeating the air, accompanied by remarks about her speaking. Annoying and somewhat distracting, she dismisses it from her mind. Only when she splits open an oyster does she cast a glance their way once more. A man makes a crude gesture towards her, signaling to his companions in an unmistakable manner. Fury pulses through her veins, though her countenance betrays nothing.

Chaos ensues only in the night, when the museum and the island shuts down for the evening, and onto the next day. The foreigner, the very same who had made the crude gesture, is found washed up on the island's shores. Her kin know there is only one to blame. To save her from punishment, they send her off to America, to New York, to live with her father, far from all she's ever known.

Her father, as it turns out, presides over another enduring lineage in the city—matchmakers. Having garnered the favor of the city's oldest families, ethical or not, his lineage boasts a storied history of uniting esteemed families. It is not a vocation that suits her, they quickly find out, but it is through a misfire that she becomes entwined with another - The Dead Hands.

Her acrobatics, athleticism, and penchant for violence lend themselves well to the organization, and cloaked in the whispers of iridescent silk, her presence is a dance of shifting hues, a reflection of the depths she once navigated as a pearl diver and the new depths she cuts through now. Her weapons, adorned with luminescent pearls, tell tales of her past. Each blade is a crafted tribute to the ocean's treasures, now wielded with the deftness of a capo. Her steps leaves no ripples, just as a drowning leaves nothing in its wake.

SUMMARY: Rooted in the ancient tradition of ama during the Heian period, Azusa's lineage, a revered group of Japanese divers, once plunged into the depths to retrieve pearls and abalone for offerings to shrines and emperors. Over the centuries, their craft transformed into a tourist attraction at Mikimoto Pearl Island, with Azusa herself captivating audiences with her breathtaking underwater prowess, earning her the title 'The Mermaid of Mikimoto.' However, a disturbing encounter with disrespectful foreigners during a demonstration leads to a tragic turn of events. To avoid punishment for the death of one of the offenders, Azusa is sent to live with her father in America, only to discover his involvement in a prestigious lineage of matchmakers. Unsuited for such endeavors, Azusa's trajectory takes a darker turn when her skills attract the attention of The Dead Hands, an organization that sees her acrobatics, athleticism, and penchant for violence as valuable assets. Cloaked in iridescent silk and wielding weapons adorned with luminescent pearls, Azusa's journey weaves together the depths of her past as a pearl diver with the newfound shadows she navigates in her capo role.

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

an expansion of how she became involved in the dead hands - perhaps she set up an ill-fated match with one of its members? perhaps she became involved in an ill-fated match??

her daytime occupation is a freelance mermaid, which, to her is a humiliating perversion of the art she had practiced. hire her for your pool parties or adult soirees!

more of her past matchmaking misfires coming back to bite her in the ass lol and no, she can't issue refunds

a handler tbh, she is a menace

[ofcruelheart]

* ◟ : 〔 RICKY WHITTLE, CIS MAN, HE / HIM 〕 ATLAS COSMATOS , some say you’re a FORTY FIVE YEAR OLD lost soul among the neon lights. known for being both CHAMELEONIC and BRUTAL, one can’t help but think of SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL by THE ROLLING STONES when you walk by. are you still the VULTURE, LEADER, ACTIVIST SHAREHOLDER for THE NEON PARIAHS, ARGUS MANAGEMENT, even with your reputation as THE VULTURE? i think we’ll be seeing more of you and GROTESQUE SCARS AND BURNS HIDDEN BENEATH PRESSED THREE PIECE SUITS, HOLDING BACK BILE AT EVERY INHALE OF UNFAMILIAR POLLUTED AIR, SEAMLESSLY SWITCHING BETWEEN BRUTAL AND BIDDABLE; AMENABLE AND CRUEL, although we can’t help but think of TOM RIPLEY ( THE TALENTED MR. RIPLEY ) + THOMAS SHELBY ( PEAKY BLINDERS ) + MAD MAX ( MAD MAX: FURY ROAD ) whenever we see you down these rainy streets.

Name: Atlas Cosmatos Age: 45 Gender: Cismale Pronouns: He/his Orientation: Bisexual Affiliation: The Vulture, Neon Pariahs Civilian Occupation: Activist Shareholder at Argus Management History (TLDR below): tw - mentions of violence

Life in the wastelands, a harsh and treacherous sculptor, whittles existence to its barest form. Here, in this unforgiving expanse, what starvation and desperation do not erode into oblivion, mutates, sprouting teeth and thorns. His memories do not stretch beyond this barren theater; recollections of boyhood, tenderness, or a family that should have been, are as elusive as shadows at dusk. He is a child of the brutal winds and the cruel landscape, claimed wholly by their merciless embrace; hunger, too, stakes its relentless claim on him. In this desolate realm, survivors cluster like moths to the faint glow of hope. They glimpse the neon shimmer of a distant city, a beacon in the darkness. Yet, to their discerning eyes, these luminescent promises are but harbingers of a more insidious demise—luring them into a complacency that whispers of a slow, unnoticed death. In this seductive embrace, their hard-won teeth and thorns are dulled, their very essence smothered in a deadly ambrosia, filling their lungs and dreams with a sweet, suffocating fragrance. In the wasteland's crucible, one among them is shaped into a leader, his voice the loudest in denouncing this illusory Eden. The replicants, mirroring man's form yet surpassing him in lethal prowess, become the fallen angels of this dystopia. Anunnaki, the purveyor of this numbing nectar, weaves dreams laced with poppy seeds, its CEO a mere idol of false salvation. Their scornful laughter soon transforms into rallying cries of freedom and revolution. Survival—collective, unyielding survival—demands the dethroning of these deceptive beacons. Navigating the city's labyrinth, they adapt with a predator's grace. To blend into this urban jungle, to mimic its inhabitants, is a lesser challenge for those sculpted by hardship. They are artisans of survival, wearing many guises. Atlas, among them, embodies this adaptability. Armed with fabricated credentials and a magnetic charisma, he infiltrates a hedge fund as an activist shareholder. His mission: to wield his stake like a weapon, pressuring corporations to sever ties with Anunnaki. His tactics are manifold: proxy wars, media blitzes, resolutions, legal battles, and negotiations. His shadowy work extends beyond the boardroom—sabotaging Anunnaki's supply lines under the cloak of night. His next stratagem looms: to amass a significant share in Anunnaki itself. But Stoneage, a privately owned company, a fortress impervious to his financial arsenal, presents a more formidable challenge. Here, the Neon Pariahs must innovate anew. Their directive is clear: to dismantle the replicants by any means necessary, a relentless war against the shadowy figures of this new world order.

Wanted Connections

Any and all replicants for him and the pariahs to hunt. He's made sure to equip all pariahs with tasers hehe

Enemies of the Neon Pariahs - aka those loyal to Anunnaki and Stoneage

Companies he has pressured with shareholder activism

Detectives who may be suspicious of his records and sudden appearance - careful of what you may find. Perhaps those hired or working with Anunnaki/Stoneage?

[ofcruelheart]

*     ◟    :    〔   jourdan dunn  ,      cisfemale    +   she/her    〕      VALLA    PARADISO ,      some say you’re a  THIRTY FIVE  lost soul among the neon lights.      known for being both  SHREWD  and  COLD,  one can’t help but think of  PAPRIKA  by   JAPANESE BREAKFAST  when you walk by.    are you still a    SIN EATER     at      CUTS OF PARADISE,     even with your reputation as the SIN EATER?     i think we’ll be seeing more of you and    METHODICAL CUTS INTO THE CHASM OF MEMORY, VISUAL HAGIOGRAPHIES FLICKERING ON A PROJECTOR SCREEN, COLD GAZE SWEEPING OVER A MEMORIAL TRIBUTE AS THE REST OF THE CONGREGATION WEEPS,    although we can’t help but think of BYLETH (FIRE EMBLEM: THREE HOUSES), PRIMROSE AZELHART  (OCTOPATH TRAVELER), KIKYO (INUYASHA)    whenever we see you down these rainy streets.      (      keira  ,      31  ,      she/her  ,     is this a wanted connection? nope!   ,   est    +    none  .     )

Name: Valla Paradiso Age: 35 Pronouns: She/her Orientation: Bisexual Occupation: Sin Eater at Cuts of Paradise, previously a Memory Maker Character Inspo: Mother Suspiriorum (Suspiria - 2018), Byleth (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Primrose Azelhart (Octopath Traveler), Kikyo (Inuyasha) General Inspo: Sin Eater history (x), The Sin Eater by Megan Campisi, The Final Cut (2004), The VVitch (2015), Noteworthy Traits: A stoic, unflappable, often emotionless countenance; a transparently appraising and cutting gaze coupled with lips that are neither smiling nor frowning; slender fingers perusing through memories and flashbacks as if they were playing cards, a rather old-fashioned way of speaking History: (TLDR at end)

I give easement and rest now to thee, dear man, that ye walk not down the lanes or in our meadows. And for thy peace I pawn my own soul. Amen.

Home lies at the fringe of civilization, a commune where the wind cuts and the crops are tough to the teeth. Home is isolation, a place where trust does not extend beyond the fences that encircle them. Life is governed by rigid divisions: men from women, and daily life steeped in prayers uttered in the archaic tongue of Old English. Her mother, she discovers, holds a role steeped in ancient ritual – a sin eater, a vocation she later learns has long vanished beyond the commune's boundaries. The mantle of sin, she knows, will one day be hers to bear, a legacy passed from mother to daughter.

She observes and absorbs the ways of the sin eater. They hear deathbed confessions. Each funeral, each interment, requires their solemn presence. Cakes, symbolic of the deceased's sins, are laid before the sin eater. With each bite, they absorb these transgressions, their consumption a rite that purifies the soul, allowing the departed to ascend to heaven.

To liberate a soul at the threshold of death is a role both deeply revered and intensely feared. Sin eaters, those who dare to barter with their own souls to amass the sins of others, are regarded with a blend of awe and trepidation. Such a sacrificial act, though honored, is often shrouded in whispers of dark magic, witchcraft, and dealings with supernatural forces, or even the Devil himself. To meet the gaze of a sin eater, if only for an instant, is believed to be an omen of misfortune.

Her time arrives, a solitary existence in the ancestral house skirting the village, where silence and averted gazes from the commune are commonplace and constant. She partakes in the ritual consumption of corpse cakes and wine, each sin of others adding weight to her family's tapestry, an ever-growing burden. Life unfolds in this solemn pattern, until an unforeseen event disrupts its rhythm.

The death of the commune leader beckons her to his funeral, to consume his sins, but hesitation grips her. Before his passing, he had confessed to her, revealing the repugnant abuse of his power. These confessions polluted her spirit, tainted her dreams, soured even the sweetest of fruits. Her only regret was that he met his end before she could play any role in it.

Defying all precedent, she absents herself from his funeral, a decision laden with grave consequences. When the commune descends upon her home, they find it devoid of her presence.

The city becomes her new haven, a stark contrast to her previous life. Here, there are no rigid divisions, at least not like those in the commune. Everyone bears the weight of their own sins.

An opportunity arises with Stoneage, a position for a 'memory maker.' Her expertise in the realm of confessions, sins, and raw memories makes her a strange, but fitting candidate. They take a gamble on her, and it pays off; she proves herself both diligent and prolific. But she grows curious, about what she can take and give within living human memory, and she has not yet known the finer nuances of subterfuge - she is discovered.

She is no longer a memory maker, but she still continues her work, and soon discovers it has every potential to be lucrative. It has every potential to bring back that which is familiar - sin eating. Powerful people who have died and are in need of hierographies and memorial movies to play at their funerals, their mausoleums, their museums and remembrances, and want a... clean legacy. Who want their sins absolved, forgotten by all but her.

She dubs her service "Cuts of Paradise."

Her clientele grows, now including the wealthiest seeking her unique services for more than mere memory curation. Bad deals, damning witnesses, debts too great to bear – they need these memories erased from those who would remember it. Not through violence or murder, but through oblivion.

Just forget. Forget about the bad deal. Forget about what they saw. Forget about forgetting.

She is innately attuned to this calling. Born to bear the sins of others, she navigates this labyrinth of forgotten transgressions, a guardian of erased memories, a modern-day sin eater in a world that unknowingly harbors ancient rites.

SUMMARY: Raised in a remote commune at civilization's edge, where harsh winds blow and trust is confined within rigid fences, she learns of her role as a sin eater from her mother, a legacy steeped in old rituals and looked upon with reverence and repulsion alike. Her life revolves around attending funerals and consuming corpse cakes symbolizing the deceased's sins, a rite believed to purify souls for their ascent to heaven. This revered yet feared practice defines her until an event disrupts her life: the death of the commune leader, whose confessed sins haunt her. Choosing to not perform her duty at his funeral, she faces the commune's wrath and flees to the city. Here, she initially struggles but finds a job at Stoneage as a 'memory maker,' drawing on her sin-eating experience. However, her exploration into living memories leads to her discovery and subsequent departure from Stoneage. Adapting her sin-eating skills, she starts "Cuts of Paradise," offering services to erase memories for wealthy clients seeking clean legacies or to be freed from bad dealings. In this modern world, she continues her ancestral calling, navigating a new labyrinth of forgotten sins and erased memories as a contemporary sin eater.