#korvikrow

Send me “have you evers.”

(Accepting!)

Gin stares at the shot in front of her, sighing as she leaves it there.  “Punch out?  Nah, usually get ‘em with m’arrows ‘fore they get within fist range.  Bu’ now ‘at’s on m’bucket list…”  A wide grin spreads across her face.  “We should go find a naga…”

Send me 😰 for a glimpse at one of my muse’s nightmares!

Under the cut, TW: blood, gore, death, child injury, and general unpleasantness.

She was in Gilneas…

Him.  The only thing she’d found that helped quell the nightmares, that had all but stopped her from waking up in the middle of the night screaming as she dreamt of fangs…was him.  Being able to fall asleep on his chest, listening to his breathing, being in his arms.  He would hold her until she fell asleep, and then get up until he fell asleep in the early hours in the morning - about the time Gin would start to stir.

She’d sit and watch him for a short while, usually before planting a soft kiss to his forehead before heading down the stairs to start her day.  Today, though…today she slid back into his arms, pressing her lips to one of the many scars that lined his skin.  He was not perfect, and neither was she.  But they fit together perfectly.

And she loved him.  This nobleman that she had thrown whiskey at, that had been ready to fight that obnoxious death knight for her…she loved him.

@korvi-krow

The image of John smirks.  “M’parents were ‘opin’ fer a nice lil’ ‘Arvest Witch, bu’ ah never quite took ta tha magics, yeah?  Became a metalsmith instead, a thumpin’ goodun, too.”  John holds out a ghostly hand, pointing to a few pieces of jewelry that Minerva still owned that he had made.  “Growin’ up, ah expected ta follow in their paths, live somewhere on tha outskirts of tha country an’ provide ‘ealin’ services.”  John’s eyes take on a violet tint as a dark smirk pulls at his lips, leaning towards the speaker.  “ ‘Tween you an’ me, mate, started dabblin’ in tha Shadows a bit.”  He holds a finger to his lips with a wink, his eyes returning to normal.  “All in all, aye…wus very ‘appy with ‘ow m’life turned out.  ‘Ad a beautiful wife, two gorgeous daughters, an’ a great business.”

Minerva huffs, rolling her eyes.  “My family was one of very prominent mages.  We weren’t noble, but we were upper class.  My family had high hopes for me…I was a very adept pyromancer when I was younger.  My parents wanted to marry me off to another well-to-do family, where my entire purpose would be to make children and be whoever’s wife.  Instead I met Jonathan Ash…and fell in love.  We got married because I was pregnant with Abigail,” Minerva spat her eldest daughter’s name out.  “My father forced us to get married…and then promptly disowned me.  My twin brother Geoffrey was the only one that cared.  So, did things turn out as I thought they would?  HAH!”  The disgraced mage let out a biting laugh.  “Fel no.  They turned out worse.  Had John not died when Virginia was four, maybe things would have been different.  But he did, and life continued in its downward spiral into the Nether.”

For every “★” I get, I will post a fact about my characters.

★Gin will find a way to not wear dresses.  In pretty much every occasion.  If she can get away with pants, you better believe she’s gonna.

★While she is very fond of hard liquor, Gin also has a fondness of Pandaren plum wine.

★Gin won’t admit how much she misses Gilneas, but she does a whole hell of a lot.

1) What inspired your character?

In game boredom at the end of MoP, I may have been drinking, and the urge to have a character outwardly badass with an underlying softness. She’s based off of a few mercenary tropes, I may have made her less stable than originally intended, though.

2) What is a concern or worry you have involving your character?

“How much blood can she actually loose…?”Really, just “will she ever stop finding trouble everywhere,” “can I calm her down,” things like that. I enjoy playing her as she is now, but I’m also well aware I need to calm her down a wee bit.

9) What is something you’d like to see happen to your character?

For her to stOP BLEEDING.

In all seriousness, I’d enjoy seeing her happy, not restless, and for her to realize that she isn’t useless, even though she sometimes thinks she is.

Gin has a couple, depending on her mental state. Generally, if alone, she starfishes. The bed is hers and must be claimed as such. If alone and depressed, she curls into a ball.

If sharing the bed with a male partner, she plays the part of the little spoon, or she’ll turn to face them and bury her face in their chest.