Kirsi
The Basics
Full Name: Kirsi Av Nofuckingone
Age: 26
Gender/Pronouns: she/her/female
Ethnicity: Short-lived
Birthplace: Glacia
Current Location: Meols, Glacia
Profession: Spring tender, web weaving healer
Caste: Black Widow Healer
Birthright Jewel: Blood Opal (CUT 81)
Offering Jewel: Red (CUT 41)
Face Claim: Amelia Zadro
The Body
Height: 5'8"
Body Type: Lean, almost feral skinny
Hair Color: Dark brown-black
Eye Color: Blue
Appearance:Kirsi's skin is surprising soft, and supple, and bare. Long lengths of naked skin. No tattoos. No scars. Just unmarred flesh and four very carefully crafted cuffs. Each wrist and ankle adorned and never without. Hollow gold filled with woven webs. Illusion. If you pay close attention, and come close enough, perhaps you will feel the prickled skin beneath.
The faint rise of tattoos along her back and down the underside of her forearms. The hard, jagged welts of scars. Lash patterns on the back, down the thighs. The ugly smile across the lowest point of her stomach. Curved from hip to hip.
Long, long legs. Hollow sides, rounded hips and breasts that are easy to forget. A waif of Glacia's wastes. But there is steel in her marrow, and strength in her grip.
The Mind
Craft Strengths: 15/15pts
Craft Weaknesses: Craft Brews & Healing. Telekinetic Surgery (partnering up?! ew).
Personal Strengths: Personal Weaknesses: Personality:Reclusive. Withdrawn. Secretive. Kirsi rarely ventures out into Meols proper. Or anywhere she might come across another person. Not unless she has good reason. She prefers to trade with a select few. Those who talk more than they listen. The less questions asked the better.
Not shy, not in the honest sense it is come by. Quiet because she has secrets to hide. Fear for herself more than of strangers. She is well spoken, when she does speak. With patients she makes no requests and issues only orders in a soft, even tone that brooks no argument. Commanding without any real sternness.
Her temperament surprisingly mellow. Perhaps the Black Widow is balanced by the Healer. Neither quick to rise the surface. Perhaps it is deception, like ice over a lake in the fall. Dulcet tones. Frozen expression. Watching. Waiting. Judging. A well honed temper. More likely to strike in the dark than charge forth in the light.
Some things must be done carefully.
The Backstory
Family:History: cw: mentions of abuse, murder, mutilation and kidnapping.According to Kirsi, she come from a farming village over in Reric. Not much hand at growing crops, she struck out on her own, and now tends the hurt at a healing spring. When they can find her.
It's all lies, of course. Well. Much of it is lies, like the smooth skin of her body. Beneath the illusion there is another tale. Of a girl who did not quite fit. Too wild even for the Glacian wastes. A girl who bit her father and clawed her mother. A girl who would only turn her hand to a plow with a sullenness that insulted them both.
A girl sold to marriage. Barely a virgin night to be had, and no descent Jewel in sight. Offerings had to be earned. Earned from cold husbands who pretended niceness. Who played at caring. All while demanding everything in return for nothing. Hard, self taught Craft. Long threads woven into tangles and then something more while a man snored his ale off.
An Offering made while he slept beneath something more potent. A Jewel barely had before it was stripped of her again. Craft cut away to grow life. Not his, but he didn't know until it was too late. A life made with gentleness passed between veritable strangers. A claim denied him before a Priestess. Not false. No blood was shared between them. Kirsi's son only. A father who's name she would not speak before her husband.
They moved, shortly after. He refused to live with the shame. He refused to live at all. Not after he'd exacted his punishment. Kirsi couldn't let him. She still doesn't know what he did with her son. Her webs don't speak of blood but she still can't find him. Her husband... Kirsi knows exactly where he lies now. His bones turning to brittle ice within a bear cave. His stomach gutted too, once she had the strength to do it.
She just wishes she'd thought to pull his mind apart before she'd done it. But she didn't know, then, that that was a thing she could do. Take knowledge not freely given.
Now she lives alone. A home that drips. Great, swirling stone pillars to separate it all. Warm water to soothe her hurts. And the hurts of others, when they find her. Though sometimes Kirsi finds them. Women especially. Their faces emerging from her webs. Their location spun from her finger tips.
Mostly she is alone. A calm face. One that can even smile. Hands that weave spring damp webs. For healing. For finding.
Her one son. Her only son. Because Kirsi will bear no more. He saw to that.
The Writer
Player Name: dergon/cole
Player Pronouns: she/her
Timezone: -6
Contact: PM or discord
How did you find us?: I was in the closet
Inactivity Instructions: Archive. However works best.