#lesstart

“I smell that repugnant beverage you are so fond of, Athena.” The rumbling guttural growl from Fenrir. Her darkin companion often made his thoughts known to her, regardless of whether she actually wanted to hear them. He was beside her, loping along with the graceful strides of a wolf, though the soft padding of paws on the carpet you might expect from such an action was absent. He was deadly silent, as always.

“Coffee? I know. That’s where we’re heading.” She replied tiredly, rubbing at her eyes. It was far too early for her to be awake and not have a steaming cup of the bitter drink in her hand. She could go across the road to retrieve a more palatable version of the same beverage, but she couldn’t bring herself to wander outside.

Minutes later, she reached the bustling kitchens and wound her way past the familiar chefs towards the small, overused coffee machine in the back corner and began a pot brewing. Fen had vanished the moment she’d wandered into the kitchen and seen other people, but she still heard his raspy voice rumble in her ear, audible only to her. “Someone approaches.”

Athena shook her head, sighing. He always thought the worst of people... and was hopelessly paranoid. Ironic, given his appearance. Uly raised her voice to be audible to whoever was approaching. “Need a cup? I can make enough for two.”

Her sketch pad was propped in front of her, a black charcoal pencil scribbling away on the fine white paper, doodling the images that were flooding her mind at being around so many people. Once, the onslaught had been overpowering, blinding... now? It was like a breath of fresh air. She loved that imagery, loved simply closing her eyes to see the world through the eyes of others.

Her pencil paused as an image filled her mind of her own back, shoulders hunched over the bar, yellow sun-dress seeming bright and distinctly out of place with the otherwise dishevelled setting. Someone was watching her from behind, approaching. She found herself smiling, turning her head to greet them with that friendly grin. She signed, ‘well don’t just stand there... come sit!’ before realising that perhaps they didn’t know sign language. She held up an identical message, scribbled hastily on her sketchpad.

The only thing that kept her going was a spot on the staircase that was perfect for viewing the main floor. She could sit there for hours watching other housemates go about their chores or just mill about. She liked watching way more than she liked interacting.

Hello and welcome to my latest muse, Raelyn! She’s a weird little kiddie, but soft of heart and an angel by nature… I hope she fits in nicely with our ragtag group of misfits! I am completely open to connections and ideas for plots :) I want her as interweaved as possible!

A brief summary of her backstory - keeping it brief!

·         Raelyn was born mute and deaf to a reasonably wealthy family in America, though the latter only found out some years prior thanks to her latent powerful telekinetic and psychic powers.

·         At first she was terrified of her powers, constantly hearing the coherent thoughts of those around her. This lead to multiple rough encounters, yelling matches and interactions through which Rae simply bowed her head against the storm and… survived. Such is her nature. Raelyn will never put her own wellbeing above that of the people she meets, no matter the situation… however that doesn’t stop her from dishing out countless sarcastic barbs often only understood by those fluent in sign language.

·         Raelyn has learned to express herself through emotive expressions and gestures, though favours Ozlan: Australian Sign Language. She favours this over traditional forms of sign language due to its capacity for sarcastic, rude and humorous gestures.

·         Raelyn has been taken advantage of more times than she can count, always seeing the best in people… and yet she continues to help those she meets. Sometimes this takes time, slowly warming to those she meets… but once she becomes dedicated to a new companion, she is truly devoted. An honest, real friend.

Athena Marrow is the oldest of the two Marrow children, having been raised in the sprawling streets of Greece. Coming from a rich family, Athena’s early life until the age of ten was filled with everything a young girl could possibly want: horses, books and most importantly... her guitar.

Athena quickly developed a love for music and singing, spending much of her free time sequestered away in one of her childhood home’s many hidden alcoves. At first, her singing left much to be desired. As time passed, however, her skill improved and she began writing her own music. Many questioned whether some of her ability stemmed from a magical talent, however the bulk of her ability came to fruition at the dawn of her tenth birthday, far from how she expected it would.

‘The incident’

Little is known about what actually happened on that fateful night when Athena turned eleven. A quiet night like any other ended with the family home burned to the ground, leaving behind only Athena and her father - who had carried her out amidst the flames at the cost of severe burns over the entirety of his body. 

Much changed after that night. Athena’s once loving and warm father became cold and snappy. The warmth was lost from his presence and he quickly isolated himself from what few friends the family had. As for Athena, those who looked closely noticed her shadow had gotten darker, her eyes sharpening in color. 

Plagued by the knowledge that the fire might have been her fault, Athena ran away from Greece and found refuge among the street performers of France. For years, she traveled with a wandering troupe and performed on street-corners to earn her living. All the while, her pet made of shadows followed her everywhere. Hidden.

Athena is loving and kind to those willing to look past her outward appearance. She does often distances herself from new acquaintances for fear of scaring them with either her abilities or her ‘pet’. Deep down, ally Athena wants is to belong. To somewhere. To someone. That look of fear in her father’s eyes would follow her everywhere, reflected in any who saw her for who she was. Maybe one day she would find someone to accept her...

Maybe.