#codes:intro

backstory (which isn’t finished yet):

emilia was born in 1648, to a mer mother and mer father in the caribbean

her parents were considered a high rank and so was she, that’s why she wasn’t allowed to interact with humans expect for hunting

hunting was like THE most important thing and she was trained to become a perfect hunter; emilia didn’t mind it, actually it was pretty fun

for almost seventy years, she was the perfect ‘high society mer’, being looked up to by children, male mers wanted her, female mers wanted to be her

BUT of course everything changed when she fell in love for the first time, and to her own horror, it was a british sailor. a sailor who was originally planned as her group’s prey, together with his crew

it was love at first sight, he didn’t see her, but she did. and she manipulated the hunt to save the sailor’s crew. 

her parents were beyond mad, and after long consulting, she was banned from her group

emilia went from everything to nothing, word spread and she became an outcast. but she wasn’t sad, she wan’t angry. her mind was circling around the sailor and she wanted to be with him. 

longs story short: she followed the sailors ship, learned how to transform into human form and stay for a long period of time in it, and the moment they finally met, he fell for her charm just as she fell for his.

emilia stayed in england with him, they got married. 

her happiness didn’t last long though, as he died only six years after their marriage in a sea battle, she never got the chance to tell him the truth about her

she was devastated, lost, the love of her life dead, abandoned by her family. 

eventually, she returned to the ocean to grieve. over one hundred years, she stayed alone, only occasionally going ashore

( here comes the part which i haven’t thought out yet )

now she’s in alaska, working as teacher

personality:

emilia has a soft heart, protected by a hard shell

when she loves, she loves with all her heart, when she hates, she hates with all her being, she either cries too much or keeps everything bottled up

that’s why she doesn’t want to come close to anyone 

she’s a friendly person, kind and caring, who doesn’t want people to suffer

kind of a mom friend, except for the part of being close to the people

she loves humans, even though she knows how horrible and cruel some of them can be

but her beloved sailor boy and the few people she was close with hundreds of years ago, they showed her how to live, how to enjoy the smallest things in life

ok so high key, i am gonna have to plot out some stuff with ramona’s mun before figuring out a nice lil backstory for them, but i have what was in the wc so here we freakin go, no sleep squad OK

so their sister is ONE HUNDRED percent the most important person in their life, you think you’re more important? guess what, u wrong

they have a hard time trusting people bc of their parents, so trying to get close to them is mega hard, like u can try and you might succeed, but it’ll take some time

they have no idea what is going on with the supernaturals, they don’t nkow they exist and honestly, even if they got wind of it, i’m not sure they’d want to know they exist, although they’d probs be like ????? @ their sister

i’m so fuckin tired

they work really hard to earn money to help them and their sister bc they are supportive to one another, i love them so much ok fight me on this one

plz be their friend, their coworker, maybe they’re going down the wrong path bc life is hard man idk

Amaury isn’t from Anchorage. Amaury’s real name isn’t even Amaury. In fact, he’s lived in a bunch of different places under a bunch of different aliases -- ‘tis the life of a runaway turned career conman. And though he’d never willingly fess to the truth, preferring to weave a tangled web of lies that’ll score him what he’s after, this is where it begins:

Remy Devaux was born deep in the Lousiana backwaters to loud and boisterous Cajun family. Far from the richest people in the world, they were still flush with love and laughter... Two things Remy couldn’t care less for. Money, beauty, comfort -- that’s what he wanted, despairing the existence he already had. He was a troublesome child. Not violent but a liar and an occasional thief; his parents did their best to managed, to discipline him fairly and try to find the source of his issues, but he rebuffed them. At seventeen, he ran away. New Orleans was where he took his first alias -- Eli. It’s also where he took money from unsuspecting tourists and worked to make his accent disappear. About a year afterwards, he moved on.

This would be his pattern. Move, change the name, smile and charm some unsuspecting soul’s cash suddenly disappeared. Originally, it was just pick-pocketing -- but that was hard work for little reward. Conning was far more lucrative and thus became his newfound career. Eventually his life would take him to a place where everything would change -- where his lonesome ways would come to an abrupt halt when he met a man that would become his fiance and where one con would go disastrously.

Devin Huff was a 54 year old man who’d made a fortune in stock trading, retiring earlier with a sprawling mansion and an array of yachts, helicopters, and private jets. He was usually going at spotting those after his fortune but didn’t see Amaury -- then known as Etienne -- coming. Perhaps he was too distracted by the mob enforcers knocking on his door. It was when he was about to give up, pay them off, that he realized how much he was missing and cleverly connected it back to the young Etienne. He invited him over under the guise of a friendly dinner and, in the middle of confronting him about the truth, his own demons came to haunt him. Men in black holding guns snuck in, surprising and overpowering the billionaire and conman. They demanded cash that Devin didn’t have and Etienne was firmly denying knowledge of -- the men believed Devin but that was something he’d come to regret in the split second between the trigger being pulled and his brains being splattered on the floor. Etienne was framed for the murder and given an ultimatum: hand over the cash and they’d make the charges go away or rot prison for the rest of his life. He took a third option.

Illegally crossing into Canada and hitching-hiking his way towards Alaska, Amaury eventually found himself in Anchorage. Though a fugitive, no one was looking for him in Alaska -- and they certainly weren’t looking for anyone named Amaury LaChapelle. He was safe, he thought, as he bought a tiny, rundown cabin in the woods ( with an out-house, for God’s sake ) and got a dog to blend in. 

Unfortunately for him, Anchorage is looking for a murderer -- not one of a random rich man in the lower 48 -- but one responsible for a string of gruesome murders. In a time of chaos, being an outside isn’t a good thing.

she was pretty much born and raised in anchorage. she was born to a waitress mother who had a one night stand with a sailor and wanted to love siobhan, but couldn’t. siobhan was instead, raised by her strict and religious grandmother –  aoive – who was from ireland and had an accent so thick most people couldn’t understand her.

aoive was the one who named siobhan and raised her to be a catholic school going girl who was taught to pinch a penny between her knees to keep the boys out. either way, she definitely didn’t end up the way her grandmother wanted to.

in junior high, siobhan fell into the popular crowd. it was exhilarating for her, to be on top and known and to have the halls part for her. her friends, a group of girls, turned out to be witches – or so they thought. they weren’t actually witches, but they liked to pretend to do spells to bring eternal beauty and popularity and silly things like that.

except siobhan liked it. she loved the spells and the rituals and the adrenaline that pumped through her veins. as her friends outgrew it, she fell deeper into it. she got into contact with the old magnate of the blackweed coven when she was fourteen and begged her to train her.

luckily for her, the old magnate agreed, stating that “siobhan had exceeding potential to become someone great” – whatever that meant. all the young girl knew was that magic was real. 

why did she choose black magic over light? simple – the rush. she loved that she could reap more benefits and could do more things with black magic. everything she wanted she could have with one simple spell and she wouldn’t have to pay the consequcnes – someone else would.

she trained under the old magnate for a decade until she was twenty-four. by that time she had graduated high school and college and had grown to become a powerful dark witch. her magic life was kept under wraps, her image staying as a sweet girl next door to the unaware mortals. she had taken up a job as the mayor’s assistant, subtly inserting herself into the town meetings and dire situations and meetings.

when she was twenty-five, she organized a coup to get rid of the magnate that trained her. she wasn’t doing a bad job or anything, siobhan just wanted to be in power. she wanted the label and to be in charge. the thought of. leading the coven gave her excitement unlike anything else and she seized the opportunity when it presented itself.

she’s run the coven for three years now without a hitch. she runs with a subtle iron fist, with passive aggressive rules and remarks, along with deadly threats handed with a smile and backhanded compliments. siobhan constantly reminds her witches of her power and how she took down the previous magnate at a young age to remind them what she can do if they try to backdoor her.

since the spread of the deadpool, she’s only gotten more bold. it pisses her off more than she can say or display and she wanted nothing more than to wring the neck of the benefactor’s neck and all the hunters involved. 

which kinda brings us to now, where she’s confident that there’s a price on her head, but she doesn’t care. she’s cocky and she’s pissed off and she wants to fight everyone – with a smile on her face while she collects hair so she can curse you, of course.

SORRY THAT GOT SO LONG BUT PLS HMU TO PLOT I LOVE PLOTTING!! wc’s include:

Ilyas was born in the Mediterranean around the end of the first millennium and beginning of the second one. His father’s family originated closer to the Egyptian coast and his mother’s closer to the European coast. Ilyas’ first interactions with humans were in Alexandria and to say he disdained them would be an understatement. Ilyas’ resentment towards the species comes and goes yet, through all of it, he has spent more time on land than in the water.

He initially ventured onto land with one goal in mind: to meet a witch. See, Ilyas had an issue; they knew who they were but other’s didn’t see him that way. Ilyas is trans and does have dysphoria. He didn’t know of any remedies beneath the water but he knew, if there was anyone that could help him, it would be a witch. He found one that did help. The spells and potions made his outside better reflect his inside. Now, this change would remain if he returned to the water but he had ventured far to find the witch, farther than Alexandria, which directly disobeyed his grandfather -- the head of his family. It wasn’t that he couldn’t be accepted back but... Ilyas disdained the thought. He disdains a lot of things. But why should he? The answer: he shouldn’t, and he didn’t.

A lot has happened since those early days. The details between then and now are fuzzy but he’s been a lot of places, eventually ending up here in Anchorage. Ilyas can easily be described as snobbish. Nice is not a word many -- or any -- would use to describe him. He isn’t malicious, he doesn’t seek out the chance to hurt others, but that’s because he thinks they’re all beneath him. Ilyas is arrogant and refuses to acknowledge that he could even be wrong about anything. He would burn a bridge before he’d sincerely say ‘I’m sorry.’ 

Nicodemo Bianchi was born to a rich Florentine family. The Bianchi’s had been a staple of the city for some time and accumulated a vast amount of wealth. Nic never went without or wanted for long. From a young age, he was waited on hand and foot by servants, allowing him free time to focus on lessons. He excelled in many skills, emerging a bright mind in Italy’s brightest time. In his twenties, he would make a name for himself as both an artist and a scholar. Before him was a gold-brick path straight to glory; surely, his name would go down in the history books.

Yet... That’s not how history went. Nic became, at most, a footnote. A promising flame snuffed out too soon. He wouldn’t make history but he would live through it. Though, according to the books, he died at age thirty.

Nic doesn’t know who his sire was. It was likely targeted based on his rising star ( or so he likes to tell himself ) but when he woke up, unable to face the daylight and thirsting for blood, he was alone. After slaughtering a couple of unlucky peasants -- it wasn’t his fault, he had no control -- Nic fled from Florence. He learned what he’d become and the caveats the came with it, along with the benefits. After a year, he returned to the city and turned his younger sister. While subsiding on human blood was an ugly thing, it was the trade-off for immortality. Frankly, anything was worth that.

Though he could no longer make history, Nic took fully advantage of his position in it. He learned, he painted, he traveled. He made the most of it, happy to be alive. There were likely some who weren’t so happy with this, whether they became his unfortunate meals or happened to unintentionally coax him into turning them. He didn’t detest humanity but he saw them for what they were: lesser creatures. Those he thought deserved it, he turned. The rest were meals if he needed them.

Malicious is not a word I’d use to describe Nic. Arrogant, yes, but he generally means well. Maybe not for the people around him but for the pursuit of knowledge and art. And, as he’s generally disinterested in the mundane lives of humans, he’ll keep to himself if you leave him alone. In many of the places he’s moved to, he’s gained a reputation as an eccentric loner. This includes Anchorage. He lives in a large manor on the outskirts of town -- supposedly haunted but irrelevant to him. It has space for his library and for his art. Don’t mistake him for a misanthrope; he’s typically friendly when you can lure him into conversation.