Sophie Delgado | The Cursed slave

 

“Whoever said looks can't kill has never seen heels”

FACE CLAIM : Marie Avgeropoulos
BACK-UP FACE CLAIM : Krysten Ritter (would age her up), Kaya Scodelario
HEIGHT & WEIGHT : 171 cm & 53 kg (This puts her slightly underweight, but she just got out of jail, so I figured she'd probably not been fed perfectly recently.)

APPEARANCE : 

— Sophie used to be a prized jewel. A face not quite symmetrical, but close enough that it gave her a sort of charm. Light eyes and dark hair that was tameable enough to shape into a few hairstyles of medium intricacy. A performative smile, that cracked at the edges once in a while, giving way to turmoil and the potential for so much more. No one payed much attention to those cracks, unless it was to reprimand her for showing them.

 

Now, she looks frailer and like she hasn't seen the sun in a while. The month-old bags under her eyes are slowly beginning to fade - she is one of the only women on board the Nightingale, that actually seems to be sleeping better here. She is in the process of growing her eyebrows out so she can reshape them into the way she likes them. Her way of taking back the control she lost in captivity. Hidden below her sleeves is a tattoo that curls from her shoulder almost to her elbow. This is elaborated on in the background section. Her hair is usually tied up into high ponytails, alternatively and only on days where she has the luxury of a little time, the front sections are held back in braids. Practicality wins over style here and she has no fond memories of the intricate updos that used to adorn her hair.

FASHION STYLE :

— As restrictive as her dresses were in the past, at least she owned more than two. Now she alternates between two shirts, both very clearly handmedowns from male pirates. The first is loose and white, made of coarse linen and clearly made for a man. While it isn't as oversized as one might expect, it is clearly cut too low for Sophie, almost dangerously so. It has since been roughly laced up to an acceptable height - still low-cut, but at least at a functional level. Right now, she has used medical thread for this, but plans to ask for help from the Loyal Handmaiden to make the thread less likely to tear. Her second shirt is dark and as loose around the sleeves as her first, but has a naturally higher neckline and a foldable collar. She has the choice to pair them with either dark brown or dark blue trousers, held up by a sturdy belt, that she has had to carve an extra notch into. Her boots are a loan from the Captain's Daugther, but Sophie is saving up to buy her own soon.
When the weather gets colder, she has a heavy coat with a fur lined collar (like in the icon at the top of the page).

 

“I'll relearn kindness someday, right now it's a fight”

PERSONALITY :

(This is quite short, because I wrote so much for her backstory that should help flesh out who she is.)

Stuck between her past of saying exactly what she thinks people want to hear and the present of growing to be herself, Sophie is still in the process of cathing up to her emancipation. She spent her formative years trying hard to please parents who would never stop criticising, and that has taken its toll. Quick wit dulled into a bitten tongue and demure aversion of eyes has now made way to anxious, sweeping glances and wit that bites back before it cracks a joke. Criticism is something Sophie struggles with unless it's delivered in a patient and kind way by someone she trusts, considering it was unconciously and conciously weaponized against her for so long.

She learned to hold her head up high, roll her shoulders back, step confidently. She learned to perform the part of a daughter who found her strength in her parents' religions. The part of a young woman, formidable in conflict, beacuse her unwavering faith would carry her through. The part of a wife, who was attentive and caring and had many talents and little ambition of her own.

She learned to hide the pain of what she had been convinced were constant failures. Hide bruised knuckles, because destructive thoughts went against her father's religion. Hide her opinions and lack of real faith behind the mask of what she knew people expected her to say, because rejecting your role in society went against her mother's religion.

Then her world drowned in an ink-black sea so quickly and quietly. She had always been headed towards rebellious independance, but was now thrown in at the deep end before she was ready. Being forced down that path faster than she would have chosen to go has left her at the tipping point between everything she has been taught and the pull of freedom. She's reeling to catch up with her reality,. For the first time in her life, she has a voice and she's fighting to learn how to use it.

 

BACKGROUND :

TRIGGER WARNING. descriptions of hangings, abusive parenting, imprisonment, almost slavery and ghosts

IRA
One of the oldest memories Irena has, is the public execution of a pirate.
She was five years old and didn't understand why the man in the shabby clothes was applauded for climbing on a chair when her parents would always shout at her for scaling the furniture. When he had made it onto the stool, Irena's father lifted her onto his shoulders and she gazed out onto the crowd, at all the pretty dresses and the boys with dirty faces, that carried trays of sweets. Someone kicked the chair out from under the man, but he didn't go tumbling, he just swayed in the wind. She stuck her hand in her hair and felt the strands whip past her fingers in a similar rhythm. That evening she played pirates. Lined up all her dolls in their finest clothes and hung her teddybear from the bedframe.

Her views on the executions of pirates twisted and changed as she grew older. Her parents told her, that the wealthy and the no-longer-quite-so-wealthy were safe with their locks and bolts and servants. So if they were safe anyway, she didn't understand the righteousness in people's eyes. Why kill someone, if their bullets could never reach you? She supposed she understood the cheers of the lower classes, that built their houses out of flammable wood and easily stolen pride instead of inheriting property. One day when she was fourteen, she borrowed some clothes off a maid and slipped in among the crowds. She bought candy off one of the dirt-faced boys with the trays like she had always wanted to. A man with a beard offered her a bucket to stand on. She smiled and tried to time stepping on the bucket with the pirate stepping on the chair, which seemed to intrigue the man with the beard. When the pirate was dead, the man leaned over to her and said they wanna be free so bad, they can be free in death. She smiled at him like she had been taught to. She gave him half her candy, climbed off the bucket and ran the whole way home. A few days later, she saw some children playing heroes and pirates in the square. She was never allowed to play with them, lest she get her clothes dirty. Besides, her parents said the children in the sqare were bad company. As far as Irena understood, everyone who wore clothes they were allowed to get dirty was considered bad company. But she would have liked to play a pirate, she thought. Free in death and maybe in life, she wondered and pulled her hair out of its bun, so she could feel the wind course through it.

Irena's father was a carrathew knight, once well-respected in their hometown of Newhaven. Years ago, early into his knighthood, he had made the arguable mistake of falling in love and marrying an eirianist woman while on a trip where he was meant to connect with the carrathew clergy in Spenia. When he returned to Newhaven with his new wife in tow, he was promptly demoted. Still a holy man, he was sent to teach in one of the charity schools run by the church. While the schools boasted about bringing some semblance of an education to people who were most in need, the schools were designed to tie them to the church and enforce the class system, by giving the lower classes only enough knowledge to be useful to the upper classes. Whithout teaching them enough to aid them in possible rebellion.

Irena's father, now working a job facing people worried about where their next meal would come from, began to resent his wife. After all, she had seduced him into giving up his dreams, he reasoned. She grew to resent him right back. She had been swept off to a foreign country, forming a family with a man who was at the whims of a foreign faith.  Divorce not being common and being something that would have only caused them both to fall further - not to mention it went against the core principles of dedication and faithfulness of her mother's religion - they resigned themselves to their lives. Her father still earned enough to barely qualify as upper middle class, so in the usual pale imitation of the upper class, Irena's mother stayed home and Irena was expected to hold up those same appearances.

In a surprising turn of events, they decided to raise their daughter with the concepts of both their religions, although they made an effort to make it look like she was being predominantly introduced to Carrathew. While Irena could never quite make sense of the mess of monotheism and polytheism she was taught, she was expected to conform to her role in society and stave off any destructive behavior. Both of her parents still believed in systems that had punished them for being young and in love once. Ira was left to pick up the pieces and try to shape them into the faith everyone around her wanted to see from her.

If it had been hard for her to figure out religion when she was a child, her late teens only furthered the problem. In the throws of puberty, she had moments where she was less interested in pleasing people who never seemed happy. Happy with each other, their lives, or their daughter. So between the days where she tried her best to be good and the days she had given up on before getting out of bed, trouble was brewing. Learning two religions that excelled at putting people into boxes and making sure they stayed there, Ira failed to be a poster child of either. For someone named after the eirianist goddess of youth and beauty, Ira seemed like she was losing her grip on her virtues in favor of young adult rebellion. Or something that looked like rebellion, at least. Mostly she was trying her best, but not quite managing to live up to all the rules she was under. Criticism was constant and she answered in a fight or in disassiciation.

And so the Daltons went on a trip to Spenia to visit her mother's family. This was not the first of these trips, but it was the first they set out on without performative cheerfulness and kind, shallow conversation. Unbeknownst to Ira, her parents had a plan.

The nickname Ira is a shortened form of her birthname, Irena. She was named in an homage to Iraura, the eirianist godess of youth and beauty.

 

FAITHLESS
The capital's marketplace had always been one of Ira's favorite places to visit in Spenia. Bustling with life and a variety of cultures and social classes, it wasn't the kind of place she'd be allowed in back home. Something about keeping her clothes clean and her mind away from bad influences. But it was different on trips, especially when family was there to supervise.

So Irena had no real suspicions, when they began to weave through the crowds. She'd been casting longing glances towards a booth that sold exclusively old keys on necklaces. Oh, or maybe the one with all the cakes in flavors she couldn't pronounce! Or the one with the animals flocking around it. Maybe she could ask for a pet, say something about how the responsibility would calm her down. Soon, she had lost sight of her parents, who had vanished into some tent not too far down the line. Poked their heads out and beckoned for her to catch up.

Before she could get her bearings, she was guided onto a chair and a young man, not much older than her, was holding a lantern up to her arm. In his other hand, he held a pot of ink. A look at the small table next to him and... Ira had vague knowledge of what tattooing equipment looked like. Her haste to get up was dashed by her parents stern gazes. Rooted to the spot, she took the piece of fabric the young man offered her. "To bite down on," he had mumbled, looking almost apologetic and about as out of it as she was.

The piece that wound up arching down from her left shoulder almost to her elbow, was a surprisingly artistic rendition of her religions' scriptures. Some parts were plain text, while others twisted into pictures, depicting scenes like Catherine being guided down a cliff and the nine gods shaping the world. Here and there, some unexpected lines seemed to intersect the whole thing at random. As they left the tent, Ira had returned to herself enough to hear her parents complain about sloppy work and the times the young man's hand had slipped. Later, when she herself got a look at the tattoo, she assumed they had been talking about those meandering lines.

Artistic or not, as the evening went on, Irena hated the low thrum of ink on her arm. Thier final act of letting her know she wasn't good enough of a daughter, her parents had branded her. Had paid someone to carve their expectations into her skin. They looked at her arm and saw something that would bring her to her senses and make her try harder to be the child their pristine reputation needed. Irena looked at her arm and saw that her parents and their dissapointment would follow her anywhere, at any time.

So she left. Stole away in the night, unclear where she was headed. She wasn't even entirely sure, if she was running away or just clearing her head and formulating a plan of how to act around her family going forward. She never got the chance to find out. Having been raised in a well-off environment in a different country, Irena hadn't quite realised how vulnerable a young woman wandering on her own at night would be in Spenia. Maybe she had taken a turn into a bad neighborhoor without noticing. Maybe it was just bad luck. Someone was following her, that she had picked up on quickly. She hurried along trying to remember how to find her way back to her family's house. If only she hadn't been so deep in thought when she came here. The footsteps behind her sped up and -

She woke up in a cell. She had known Spenia had slave trade in that vague way people know things that won't affect them. She had never looked on the practice too favorably, but had also been acutely aware that she was in no power to change it. She'd had enough trouble being a knight's daughter, it had never looked like a life of influence had been in the cards for her. Now less so than ever. As the days went by, she tried almost everything she could think of: pleading with the guards, threatening them (my parents have friends who are powerful in two religions), bribery.

Things got worse, when she got a cellmate. He was a man, which seemed like a sick joke at first. He seemed as surprised to see her glaring over at him from one side of the cell. That made it a little better, at least he had also been blindsided by this. But all he did, was sit in the corner of the cell, pace up an d down a bit and occasionally he tried to initiate conversation. Irena shot down most of that. Eventually she realised the guards were only dropping off one portion of food. She offered the man half of hers with a heavy heart and was surprised when he declined.
"They give me food when you're washing up or at the auctions. Something about us not fighting over food, cause they need you in peak condition." That gave her pause. Was he not also a slave? When she asked, he clarified that he was a pirate.
"Shouldn't you have been hanged a while ago?", she asked.
Instead of answering, he smiled a little sadly. "I know a way out of here, you know. The bricks in the left corner of the washroom are loose. I've got clothes stashed by the docks." She laughed, because even if the joke was a little tasteless, it was humor nonetheless. She didn't ask about pirate hangings again.

As the weeks wore on, Ira's spirits sunk. If her parents had ever looked for her, they had stopped by now. Whenever she wasn't being carted to auctions, she spent her time slumped on the bench in her cell, staring at the wall. Slowly, she decided to let go of her religions. It had been a long time coming, but making the choice to let herself loose faith had felt like giving up. The final nail in the coffin. When she lay awake at night, she imagined she could feel a crawling sensation in the words etched into her shoulder.

The nickname faithless was used by guards in a derogatory fashion. She was a slave with a tattoo of two different scriptures and yet seemed to be losing any semblance of faith she might have had. This nickname could also be used by beings who are closer to all-seeing, if the characters should encounter anyone like that. The nickname will hurt less and less as time goes on and Sophie might eventually turn it into a playful jab at her upbringing someday in the future.

 

SOPHIE DELGADO

"You, uh," her cellmate spoke out of nowhere one night. "You know a couple of years ago, we were pulling into a harbor a little ways down the coast. Dead of night, cover of darkness, all that. We were mostly there to steal cargo, we'd been running low on food. I had grabbed a bag of something. Some kind of wheat or seed or something. Not really sure what we wanted with it, but the captain had told me to grab it, so I had. When I made it onto deck... way more of a challenge when your hands are full, by the way. I guess my sea-legs weren't great yet and I managed to trip. Wouldn't have been a problem, but the ing bag burst. The deck is full of seeds now, which first of all, that's a walking hazard for everyone else. And like that's not bad enough just out of nowhere all these seagulls start descending on us. I don't know if they were summoned by the sound of food or what. But it's just a flurry of feathers, people slipping and so much sqwaking. Some guard came running to see what the commotion was about and we had to hightail it out of there. The captain was pretty mad at me for a while, but y'know. It's a funny story now."
Irena smiled for the first time in weeks at that story and soon her cellmate telling her pirate stories was a common occurance. Some of them she was sure he had made up, but it didn't matter either way. Anything to take her mind off of things really. Sometimes she offered up stories of her own. The time she had been upset and punched trees and later tried convincing her parents that her bruised knuckles where the products of her mixing paint on her own hands. The time he had just barely kept a drunk crewmember from falling overboard.
Over time, the not-yet-slave and the inexplicably-alive pirate became friends.

Then it all went to . More than it had so far. Irena had been unfortunate enough to catch the eye of an aristocrat, who had seen her at a sneak-peak presentation for the next auction. While being sold sounded bad enough, the way he leered at her made the idea so much worse. He talked to the slave traders as though she wasn't right there, called her pretty in one breath and tried to haggle the starting price down in the next. The moment she got back to the cell, she threw up in a corner. When her cellmate asked what was wrong, she managed to force out the words aristocrat and auction. her cellmate's face went dark, but a moment later he seemed to catch himself and realise that the more imortant thing to do, was to comfort Ira. "Washroom bricks are probably still loose," he suggested eventually. She looked at him incredulously.
"If they really are loose, why are you still here?"
He swallowed and seemed a bit lost for words. "If I go they'll block the bricks up and I wanted you to have a chance too." Irena watched his face for a while, trying to figure out if he was serious. Eventually, she gave up, sat down next to him and stared at the wall until she fell asleep.

Maybe the aristocrat would have forgotten. It was unlikely, but possible. Maybe he had seen some other slave, prettier, without scripture tattooed into her arm. Maybe. He hadn't of course, as she learned when he stopped by the cell a week or two after she first met him. Talked about her and even to her, which was mostly taunts about how she would soon do his bidding. Her cellmate was ignored completely, but Ira herself was a picture of defiance, hands curled into fists by her side, the snarl on her lips keeping any words at bay, that might have got her in trouble. As soon as the aristocrat and the guards were gone, she spun around to face her cellmate. "Think I'm strong enough to kick those bricks?" The moment the words registered, the glare on his face, still directed towards the hallway, morphed into the brightest smile she had seen him wear. "Of course. I was beginning to wonder what I'd have to say to get you to run."

As night fell, Irena asked a guard to go to the washroom. Kicked out the bricks while the guard waited outside. Hurried down the first street she saw, chose every crossroad at random, trying to move unpredictably. Finally, she slumped down in some storefront, sheltered by any rain at least. Caught her breath and tried her best to stay awake, in case she was still being followed. A few hours later, it was her cellmate who found her. Just shrugged, grinning, when she had asked how he had made it out, he shrugged and grinned. "There was a lot of chaos after you vanished. I'll keep watch, if you want to sleep. We should head to the docks tomorrow, grab my clothes. I think I also stashed some money." A few months ago, she would never have dared close her eyes around him. Now she trusted him like family. More than family, hers hadn't been the best. A thought hit her. "I never introduced myself. I don't like my name anymore. I've outgrown the people who gave it to me."
Her no-longer-cellmate seemed to think about that for a little while, before he spoke in a tone that was trying far too hard to sound casual. "You could have my surname. Become my sister or something. Family is what we make it anyway."
"I like that. I should pick a first name too, make it harder to track me down." After a few back and forths about names that would suit her, they settled on Sophie.
"Sophie Delgado," he smiled, before his expression froze. ", I haven't introduced myself, have I? Enzo Delgado. Sorry." She just laughed and fell asleep soon after. Ready to start a new life.

 

GODMARKED AND THE UNWRITTEN GIFT
They headed to the docks before the break of dawn. Enzo led he way, leading her through small twisty passages, just in case the main streets would have people on patrol. And Sophie, newly being his sister, was feeling brave. "You never told me why they didn't just hang you." He stopped and turned to face her. Confused, she slowed as well. His expression flickered from discomfort to shame and back again until she couldn't stand it anymore. "You don't have to te-"
"No, I do," he cut her off. "Should have told you a long time ago." As he was speaking, he had reached up to pull his collar down, until she saw the vague scarring in a ring around his neck.
"They... what, they tried and failed?" He winced at that.
"I died years ago. I never expected you to be able to see me, but when you did -"
This time, she cut him off. "No. No, you don't get to pull some bull. Tell me the truth, I can handle it. Am I walking into an ambush at the docks? Is that it?"
He shook his head, miserably. "I don't know how to explain this. I never ate around you, never slept, never touched anything. No one ever noticed I was there, except you." Sophie shook her head and paced up and down in front of him. Moved a hand to touch him, only to pass right through his shoulder.
"So why can I see you? Why me? I've never seen - what are you, a ghost? I've never seen a ghost before." He paused for a moment, looking even more crestfallen. Slowly, he raised his hand towards her tattoo.
"I know it was meant as scripture, but there's something else in there. You noticed those lines that span the whole tattoo for no reason? Don't think those were slips of the hand. I think this is a very cleverly disguised rune, done right under your parents' noses."
A little breathless at all this information, she asked, "It's a curse, right?"
To her surprise Enzo shrugged. "I'd guess it's either a curse or some step in a Kunasatou plan for you."
"Is that your religion?", anger back in her voice. The last thing she needed was to be pushed around by some new faith, especially by one that came with magic.
"I had a friend," Enzo smiled ruefully and Sophie remembered with a start, that it had probably been years, since any of his crew had even look at him. So she took steps down the street they were on, gesturing for Enzo to lead the way once more.

They reached the docks at the same time the sun did. Enzo had a bit of trouble finding the place he had stashed his things, but eventually gestured triumphantly at some planks in the side of a building. Behind them, Sophie found a dusty pair of trousers, two shirts, a belt, a small dagger and some coins. Quickly, she exchanged her rags with the trousers, struggeling with the belt and eventually driving  the dagger through it, making  a new hole to close the thing tighter. Enzo looked like he was in physical pain, seeing his clothes be stabbed. The shirt she pulled on, was the one with the higher neckline. Stuck the dagger in her belt and picked up the coins. And glanced around the docks, uselessly.

"If you need a place to go...", Enzo seemed to debate with himself, before he grinned. "I'd say the'll kill me for this, but they're too late on that count. You see a ship called the Nightingale dock in the night, go talk to Ethan. He's blonde hair, ponytail, walks like nothing could ever stop him. Convince him to give you passage out of this place, wherever they're headed, unless it's the Piranha Isles or the Badlands or something. He's tough to convince of things that disrupt his plans, so here's exactly what you say..." He leaned in closer and she listened. The last bit of advice he gave her, after some general coaching was, "If he says something about women on ships being bad luck, climb on deck. Look down at him for a minute and ask him why he hasn't dropped dead yet."
She spent the next few days stealing food from shops with a ghostly lookout to guide her and rehearsed what to say to Ethan in the evenings. And all too soon, she woke up to Enzo calling her name. He was standing, his gaze fixed on a quite imposing ship, that was slowly lowering its walkway. He tore his longing, affectionate grin from the figures clambering onto the dock long enough to give Sophie a reassuring and equally affectionate smile. She began to walk.

Godmarked refers both to the carrathew and eirianist scriptures in her tattoo and the maybe-curse-maybe-kunasatou rune that it shapes.

The Unwritten Gift would also moreso be a name that she gets called by potential enteties that might know more about the world than any normal person would. Or it could be a nickname that gets used sometime in the future, assuming her tattoo really is a stepping stone towards a Kunasatou gift.

 

TRIVIA :

— Sophie knows a little bit about tending to wounds. She used to punch trees and sometimes people when she was younger and learned to care for the bruises. Enzo has also told her a lot of stories, so she has a basic theoretical knowledge of more complicated medical procedures. For whatever a theoretical knowledge is worth.

 

— If someone gave her the chance, she might ask the surgeon to help her get some practical experience in that field as well.

 

— Old skills her family used to imitate the upper class, like needle-point, could actually come in handy in medical situations

 

— Because she's been in a couple of fistfights, although they were between untrained teenagers, she has a fighter's spirit. What she lacks in technique and finesse, she makes up for with the sheer determination of those, who were told to bottle up their destructive emotions their whole life, only to then go through traumatic ordeals. She'll need some sort of outlet.

 

— Is such a lightweight when it comes to alcohol. (Contrasts nicely with her love interest.)

 

— She knows some cooking and has some experience with pickling vegetables and fruits and so can also help make food that will survive a voyage on sea.

 

— Sophie is keeping her new surname hidden for now. She fears if she were to say it infront of the crew, they would assume, she was trying to replace Enzo somehow, or to make fun of his memory. She is already wearing his clothes, after all.

 

— She does whisper her new full name to herself in moments where she's alone. Sophie Delgado. Family is who you choose.

 

 

“family is who you choose”

CONNECTIONS :

— father : Lucas Dalton / teacher at a Catharrow charity school / steadfast, strict, loyal / what closeness?
Whatever interactions they might have had, stopped the night Sophie was forced into her tattoo.

 

— mother : Maya Dalton / housewife / strict, unwavering, moments of gentleness / what closeness?
Whatever interactions they might have had, stopped the night Sophie was forced into her tattoo.

 

 

 

— "brother" : Enzo Delgado (ft. Bob Morley) / the late surgeon of the Nightingale / helpful, kind, patient, wry sense of humor, intuitive, ruthless, violent if he deems it necissary / honorary siblings

 

BACKGROUND:

Unlike so many, Enzo Delgado was born into the pirate business. His father had been a sailmaster and his mother had manned canons, keeping her out of sight of other crews whenever it came to blows. When they learned that they had a new life on the way, the decided to retire. Their version of retirement was moving to the Piranha Isles and opening a bar. The food was fresher than anything to be found on sea voyages and the drinks mostly tasted like , but they were strong. Which is really all that matters to most pirates, so business was booming. Besides, if you drank enough, the ale would start tasting good either way. Anyone who quipped that it worked the same way with women, was thrown out and banned from the premises until a woman would vouch for their changed behavior.

 

Young Enzo was destined to be a pirate, but where on the ship he would exactly end up, was up in the air. Hands too delicate for canons, his mother used to say and would have the decency to ruffle his hair when she noticed he looked a bit offended. No shame in that, his father would add. Maybe yer a schiemer, good first mate, maybe captain. Sailmaster like yer old man. Got a good head on those shoulders. Enzo began his piracy carreer as a cabin boy, moved up to normal crewmember status and there were rumors that he might apprentice with the sailmaster. Instead, a month or so into his crewmember life, their ship came under attack and the surgeon was shot. And Enzo "delicate hands, apparently" Delgado, was the first person to run for medical supplies and - with some slurred coaching from the bleeding surgeon - saved the man's life. His stitches had been neat enough, that he was instead invited to apprentice with that same surgeon.

 

Much later, when he was older, a surgeon in his own right and renowned for his abilities, he was recruited onto the Nightingale. He was in his parents' bar, when the quartermaster, Ethan, approached him. Enzo was offered the best payout he had ever seen and he was promised to see some strange and unusual injuries to tend to. Because if I wasn't so vigilant, those boys would fall off the ship and set themselves on fire while they're underwater. - Even the captain? - He's one of the worst. And so with the promise of gold and medical adventure, Enzo Delgado set out with a new crew.

 

He found his family on that ship. Or more family, considering he made the effort to stay in touch with his parents. Years went by, before that fateful day. It certainly hadn't felt fateful to Ethan and Ethan would know. But they had been spotted on a supply run in Spenia's capital in the early hours of the morning. Ethan had been dragged off by guards and apparently it was pirate-hanging season. Ethan's execution was scheduled for noon of the next day, so the crew had time to plan. Their plan went off well for a while, Enzo was one of the ones, that snuck into the crowd. After they had Ethan free, they scattered to the winds, the plan being to meet up by the cove where their ship lay hidden in three hours. Unfortunately, Enzo was reconised by a member of the guard and - after being chased down streets for twenty minutes - was thrown in jail.

 

He expected to be hanged later that day, the end of the week at the latest. By the time the end of the week rolled around, he was worried. He knew, out there somewhere, his crew were attending every public hanging, hoping to see his face, hoping to set a new plan in motion to get him out. When the food stopped coming, Enzo understood. He had been recognised as a member of a crew that came back for their own and did it well.

He wasn't going to die publically. No chance of escape.

 

Enzo woke up as a ghost. He was there, when the executioner gleefully announced his death to the crowd. Was there when he watched his companions' faces fall, he followed them as they made their way to the Nightingale. He wiped tears he couldn't touch from their eyes, threw his arms around their necks and buried his face there so he couldn't see the grief in their faces. He said goodbye as they set sail.

 

And then he set to work. He had decided to stay on land, there was work to do here. Most days, he sits in the local hospital and helps persuade people's souls to stay in the world of the living for a little longer, if they can. He has also found other dead members of the Nightingale, that manned the ship before his time and is always searching for more. The goal is to start a network of Nightingale ambassadors, keeping peace with other dead pirates and watching over the crew when they're on land. Besides, he wasn't sure what a network of ghosts could really do to aid the Captain in his quest to become the pirate king. But now there's a young woman on board, who can speak with them. And that young woman is his sister, finding her footing among the rest of his family. He could not be more proud and more excited about what the future has in store for all of them.

 

And if she ever reveals her cursed power to the crew, he has told her to pass on, that he trusted them all along and was never disapointed.

 

INTERACTIONS:

Whenever the Nightingale docks in that city in Spenia, Enzo is the first one to greet them. Now that Sophie is among the crew, he actually has someone to say hello to directly. She'll try and steal away to a place they can talk in private without anyone thinking she's weird for having a conversation with herself.

 

Whenever they're not in Spenia, but go on land somewhere else, the Nightingale Ghost Network knows to look for the woman with the dark hair and the clothes that don't fit her great, but she is in the process of gaining enough self-confidence to really turn the whole thing into a look. Any messages they have are passed on to her, so she can influence the crew's plans, if need be.

 

Once Sophie has told Ethan about the curse and Enzo, he joins her in those private conversations sometimes. Sophie mediates between them, conveniently leaving out any comments Enzo makes about how close Sophie and Ethan have gotten.

 

Once the whole crew know about the curse, Sophie will openly talk to Enzo and relay any messages to the crew.

 

 

 

— an old alliance : Panthea Dimitriou (ft. Nadia Parkes) / the lost princess / you tell me ;) / clashing friends

 

BACKGROUND:

Sophie - Irena at the time - met Panthea when they were both slaves. They weren't held captive by the same slave traders, but had seen each other in passing at auctions, never really having the time or freedom to strike up a conversation. That changed one day, when something delayed the action and the to-be-slaves were stuck sitting in some sort of waiting room. Irena had flopped herself down crosslegged onto the floor and looked up at the girl, who had managed to snag a chair and whose leg she was now leaning against. Quiet hello's were exchanged, followed by "who were you before?" Panthea mumbled something about princesses and Ira snorted a laugh. Even when she noticed that Pan had stayed serious, she didn't really believe it. Royal families had too much protection, right? Even when pirates raided Newhaven, the rich were mostly unaffected - and they were all common nobles. When the question was her, she introduced herself as "Irena. Religous up, mostly." and had absentmindedly patted the fabric that covered her left arm, before realising that would mean nothing to Panthea. Well, she wasn't about to explain. But Panthea had smiled at Irena's scowl and nodded understandingly. "Unable to fulfil your religion. Yes, I know the feeling." Irena had offered her a weak, wry smile. Moments later the auction had begun. It would be a couple of weeks before Panthea was sold to a handsome and slightly scary pirate and first stepped foot on the Nightingale. It would be another week or so on top of that, before Irena kicked out bricks in a washroom and became a Delgado.

 

INTERACTIONS:

They meet again on a pirate ship, both changed people, Sophie moreso than Panthea. The relief of seeing a friendly face had also made it to relative safety was a little overwhelming. Panthea clad in dresses fit for a princess, more importantly: clad in dresses that covered her skin. She carries with her calm idealism contrasted by an outrage at the piracy surrounding her. Sophie, on the other hand, greets her in slightly baggy men's trousers, a pirate's shirt, dagger in her belt and a new name. It becomes clear very quickly, that they are choosing very different ways to go about healing from their respective trauma.

 

They find out they have a lot more in common, than just being almost-slaves. Religious upbringing full of expectations they could never live up to - the same religion, in fact - and parents who expected them to be perfect anyway. The cold fear, that they weren't good enough for their parents to love them, might never be good enough. Panthea had pushed those thoughts away, convinced herself it was for her own good. Sophie had taken her pain out on trees or on people who had hit her first. While Pan had submitted and focused on the future, Sophie had guarded her resentment and defiance like her greatest treasures. If you ask Sophie, Pan was emotionally abused and neglected in similar ways to herself. But Sophie knows better than to push the realisation onto her friend. When Sophie had finally gotten sudden confirmation of her parents' lack of care, she had run off and been thrown in jail. So instead, she tries to compare childhood stories with Panthea, offering the listening ear of someone who gets it. Offering the perspective of someone, who can't and won't forgive their family for the way they were raised. In her opinion, well-meaning intentions stop mattering when the behavior continued for years and the outcome shows lasting, painful effects in the children even after a change in environment.

 

That is one of the things they tend to clash on. To Panthea, family is family, which might be because she had more of it. More people who had the potential to be good. To Sophie, family are people who care for you as much as you care for them and support you, whether or not you fully agree with them.
Another point of contention is their view on piracy. Sophie seems to have been tricked into some "not all pirates" narrative for reasons she refused to elaborate on and refuses any offer of dresses or clothes that aren't those trousers and two alternating shirts - going so far as to lace up one of them in favor of just picking a more appropriate shirt. Panthea hates and is afraid of pirates. All pirates. Only, the first mate of this ship saved her from a worse fate and had become her only hope for a while...

 

 

CHOSEN APPLICANTS :

These are all suggestions, of course - group dynamics and such are absolutely up to you and I'm sure you'll think of awesome things! I just got excited seeing the cast page

 

 

— source of mutual frustration : Undina Cadralia / The Young Mermaid / you tell me ;) / between 3/10  & 8/10

 

INTERACTIONS:

Undina is a lot to handle and unfortunately a type of person, Sophie hasn't really met yet. Undina seems to have it all figured out - self-assured, and openly defiant in a way that parental rule and slavery never permitted Sophie to be. Her general demeanor might result in being both in awe and a bit intimidated. And if Undina who wears her unending curiosity and lack of concern or understanding for others' coping mechanisms on her proverbial sleeve, decides she wants to know what secrets are hiding under Sophie's actual sleeve, that could result in a lot of uneasiness and avoidance, assuming Sophie isn't yet ready to unpack all of that. On the other hand, if Sophie needs help convincing Takuya to follow ghost intel without revealing her secret, having someone as confident and charismatic as Undina on her side could be amazing. They have a lot of potential to get off on the wrong foot, Undina's natural curiosity poking at Sophie's very recent trauma, while Sophie's evasiveness and emotional responses might well frustrate Undina. But if they manage to trust and befriend each other, there's a lot of potential for good there, too. With Undina to learn from, Sophie could begin to build confidence of her own, while Undina might be forced to slow down and could learn to be more compassionate when dealing with delicate conversations.

 

 

 

— an ally and a threat : Anoushka Joshi / The Woman of Science / you tell me ;) / 7/10 maybe?

 

INTERACTIONS:

Anyone who meets Anoushka will quickly understand just how smart and determined the woman is. Sophie appreciates that - and what she appreciates even more is that Anou's beliefs rely firmly on rational facts. Which means no ghosts. Which means siding with her in arguments about the supernatural would cast doubt on any future suspicions of ghost-seeing. (Which leads to a lot of quiet apologizing to the ghosts on the ship, whenever she's alone.) Of course, as Anou learns that the world is more magical than she realized, that security she unknwoingly gave Soph begins to fall away. Sophie is faced with a descision. Does she keep on denying the existance of magical elements to the world (like mermaids), when it's becoming increasingly obvious that they are all around them? She can probably only do that up to a certain point, before it looks more supicious than it actually helps her. And she'll have to be careful - Anoushka is a smart woman, who might begin to pick up on the fact that there's more going on here than someone else being raised on logic.

Once her secret is revealed (or at least revealed to Anou, if the revealing goes in stages), she might ask Sophie to listen if she might be able to hear a woman's voice singing a specific song from out in the water. When she eventually does they realize something about the story they believed must be off... because Sophie isn't the only one hearing Gita's voice echoing from the waves.

 

 

 

— imitation and intimidation : Noha / The Captain's Daughter / you tell me ;) / might start as a 5/10, could go either way?

 

INTERACTIONS:

At first glance, Sophie might look like a pale imitation of the kind of woman Noha is. Noha wears piracy like she stepped out of myths and legends, Soph has stepped into it as convincingly as someone who bought a cheap costume and is now trying to look intimidating. The daughter of the sea wobbles on land but is all harsh confidence and manipulation on the ocean. The dead man's sister is wild-eyed, underfed and clutches her brother's dagger with the iron grip of those who know letting go means getting hurt again. They are both dangerous in their unpredictability, though their reasons could not be more different.
Noha might lend Sophie some actual seafairing boots out of pity or maybe with strings attached, buying herself an in to long-form manipulation, should that prove useful in te future. Sophie might catch on to this, if she doesn't someone more used to the ways of scoundrels might tell her. But Sophie has never been proud enough to turn down help in her most desperate moments. And now she has already lost her faith and wonders if, by finding ways to make Enzo's clothes fit her, she will lose enough of the honor her parents carved into her skin to walk away from repaying the favor when the time comes. Either way, she hopes to be able to buy or steal her own study boots and return Noha's as soon as she can.

 

 

 

— slanted mirror : Euphemia Rohan / The Governor's Daughter / you tell me ;) / anywhere from 6/10 to 9/0?

 

INTERACTIONS:

Euphemia reminds her so much of a life left behind, it hurts. Born and raised in Newhaven herself, of course she recognizes the governor's daughter the second she steps on the ship. (that last "she" refers to which of them joins second) After her first thought is why did she come here, this doesn't seem like her style, Sophie is confronted with the fact, that... her brother's family or not... oh, yeah - pirates. Euphemia, daughter of a man who would see piracy dead in the water if he could, is unlikely to be here of her own volition. And although Sophie has been saved, proclaimed family and begrudingly taken on board (presumably saving her from slavery) by various pirates now, she isn't (yet?) a pirate herself. Seeing such a regal figure reduced to a prisoner might well shake her up enough to question what the she is doing here. And Enzo is miles away on land, far enough away that all that could remind her is his clothes and dagger.

But it's not only that. Seeing Euphemia behind bars is the worst out of body experience Sophie - who dissosiciated horribly when her parents decided to brand her with their frustration - has ever had. Because looking at the governor's daughter, all she sees is herself. The weight of tradition, placed on two girls of different social standing, that twisted Euphemia to be and Sophie look like a picture of detached perfection. Something that Euphemia excelled at, while Sophie's failure began her downfall. The balance between indignant pride and hidden self-consciousness is something she recognizes all too well. And Euphemia's balance is beginning to shift towards what Sophie's has been her whole life. She is beginning to lose her grip on that pride, but stubbornly throwing up the illusion of grandeur to compensate.

And now she's locked in a cell, unsure of what is going to happen to her and what people's intentions are. And Sophie has been there, too. And so she sits with the governor's daughter when ever she has a moment and speaks to her in hushed tones. Whatever Euphemia may feel about a disgraced ex-middle-class woman in pirate's clothes relating to her so much, Sophie tries to be what Enzo was for her. Fun stories to distract, a listening ear in return. Whoever she gets closest to the fastest or holds most sway over (probably Ethan and his mix of nostalgia and survivor's guilt), she will ask to be kinder and more patient with Euphemia and her indignance.

 

Despite their similarities and how much Sophie wants to help her, they are going to run into one major problem. Euphemia is devout enough to carry religious jewelry the crew have been too respectful to take. Sophie, too, carries the Catharrow religion on her body, but the word Faithless has passed from prison guards to people she hasn't met yet, who know more than they let on. And while Euphemia at first avoids the crew with her nose turned up, Sophie is - however wearily - throwing herself into ship-duties and spending time with the pirates. Trying to see where the family Enzo spoke about is.

 

Back in their shared hometown, sneaking out to watch an execution from within the crowd whe first taste of freedom Sophie ever took for herself. Those hangings were instated by the Rohans and for all they showed Sophie a glimpse of who she could be... similar hangings in a neighboring country had almost taken Enzo and Ethan's lives. Here, Euphemia takes time to accept change and drop her walls. Sophie, whose walls were torn down weeks ago and had never been as strong in the first place, feels the wind in her hair and is reminded of gallows. Free in death and maybe, just maybe, in life.

 

 

 

— a beacon of hope : Zyanya / The Voodoo Witch / you tell me ;) / 9/10

 

INTERACTIONS:

Unlike Undina and Anoushka, Zyanya's curiosity isn't somehing Sophie feels like she has to fear. While she will keep her secrets for as long as she can, having some kind of magical power that could be and often is interpreted as quite dark will let her feel some kinship towards Zanya. Who seems at ease and geniunely happy with her magic, but the fact that they both have something that most of the other nations would view as otherworldy about them still links them in Sophie's mind. And Zyanya asking about or finding out things usually seems to carry little judgement. After all, her first response to an interviewing pirate bringing up a misogynistc superstition was to ask "why", wo Soph can't imagine Zyanya looking at her differently despite this curse. Though, as another believer in Kunasatou (if not a strong one), she might also be more inclined to view the whole thing as less of a curse and more of a stepping stone towards some sort of gift. More inclined than most, at least. Especially, once she learns that Ethan was involved in the creation, if not by choice.

Zyanya could likely be one of the first people Sophie feels comfortable revealing her curse to, probably with the heavy asterisk of do not tell anyone else. Soph would probably also have little judgement for Zyanya's creepier moments. The first time, she might feel afraid for a moment and then realize that if Zyanya can be so kind and compassionate, maybe she doesn't have to be doomed by the rune in her tattoo. She might be one of the first to reach out after Zyanya scares people, since she actively makes herself believe that a little (powerful) magic that seems frightening, doesn't mean she isn't the same person they had all known hours ago.