( han so-hee, cis-female, she/her ) Apparently HANI SEONG has been spotted sneaking around Halcyon Island after dark. The 28 year old normally resides in the WEST but the exact details are murky. It seems their alliance to the CURRENT has drawn them out of hiding, just in time for the annual meeting of the Faction leaders. Be cautious if you see them around, because whilst they are DETERMINED, they are also VENGEFUL. Rumor has it that they currently work as SOLDIER and that they have the power of FLORAKINESIS.
info .
name: honey beaumont hani seong nickname(s): n/a date of birth: january 12th, 1998 ( assumed ) age: twenty-eight place of birth: halcyon island ( assumed ) power: florakinesis
gender: cis-female pronouns: she/her sexuality: bisexual
occupation: soldier for the current affiliation: the current ( mole ) family: redacted
aesthetics: scraped open knuckles and blood-stained bandages, flickering lights and a shadow moving through the dark, a playground in the dark and a lonely swingset squeaking in a soft breeze, a cornered animal with raised hackles and bared teeth, a shabby backpack filled with all your belongings, rage that makes your fingers tremble, a switchblade and gun tucked underneath your pillow as you sleep, obsession that eats you alive soundtrack: the guardian (ellie's song) by shawn james positive traits: compassionate, perceptive, loyal, unwavering, determined, courageous, alert negative traits: vengeful, combative, scheming, irritable, closed-off, cynical, secretive, spiteful
height: 5'7 eye color: dark brown hair color: dark brown, almost black notable features: a hole above her eyebrow from a removed piercing, three more piercings in her left ear
bio .
( tw: child neglect, death, drugs, blood )
there's a taste to loneliness. you know it well. you were raised on it, after all.
to say you were raised might be an overstatement, though. more like you were handed life on a broken plate, rusty cutlery, and told to make it work. loneliness gives you a dry mouth that no amount of water can wash away. rough, like trying to lick love from a rusty knife. you and your twin are bouncing from foster family to foster family after your own mother gives you away, you never stay too long to learn anything different. you're more feral cat than toddler and as the years pass, you make this disadvantage your blessing. no one can get close enough to hurt you if you snarl and bare your teeth at them. there’s only one who manages to bridge the distance, and it’s your twin sister.
when your power shows itself after you make an impossible bundle of flowers sprout from between cracks in concrete, a woman finds the both of you. you’re both three years old, and at a first glance, this family is no different. there’s no love, just the duty you’re thrust into by being someone special. it does not matter much in any case. just a few months after you’re taken in for your miraculous flower sprouting powers, the cinder incident turns everything on its head. you’re not special anymore. now, you’re a burden. you do have a big brother, though, and two other adopted siblings who make your life a little more bearable.
you inherit his habit for swearing every other sentence, his skittishness, even though you’ve had plenty of that on your own. your sister fawn and you get to stay kids for as long as possible when he’s around, even though he’s a horrible influence on the two of you. at least, though, there’s love. there’s love, until there’s nothing when you turn eleven and he’s gone. after that, you don’t get to stay a kid for much longer with the chores that are put upon you.you don't get to stay a kid for too long if you stare down the dark with as much defiance as you do.
you start taking on odd jobs when you turn fifteen, working here and there, for less than you are owed. you work because that’s what’s expected of you, and you work because you want to save up enough to get away from the place you and fawn are in. eventually, you manage it. you’re eighteen and a nuisance at best, but you manage. the both of you move out eventually, and life is gradually starting to look alright, bit by bit. very slowly, you build a life together that none of the adults in your childhood were ever willing to provide for you.
it goes well right up until you’re in your early twenties.
then, it all goes horribly wrong.
your sister’s power is sensory enhancement, but she’s never made a point out of using it. and then one day, on your way home from your shift at a convenience store, you find her dead in an alley not far from your apartment. you take care of her funeral, you take care of her legacy. your sister was always softer than you ever could be, and that is what makes it sting so much more. this last bit of your family, this last tether to something gentle taken from you so cruelly.
there aren’t many clues, but from what you are able to find out, you know it was ordered by someone belonging to the current faction. you swallow your sorrow and exchange it for steely determination.
you are not going to sit idly by while someone deems it alright to take the only person you love from you. you are not going to be fine while fawn’s killer walks free. what else do you have to live for? you are on your own. if you do anything, you might as well make yourself useful as a final act of defiance.
you infiltrate the currents’ ranks as an associate, and then you work your way up to soldier. you will find your sister’s killer, and if it kills you, you at least hope you will take that person with you.
rage tastes like a mouthful of blood and the echo of heart-wrenching sobs. you know it well. it's all you have left.
wanted connections .
tba
