Hawu Jinjahl is a woman who steps on the lichyard of gods, an unwilling prophet in the name of a man who passed from the world of the living in a violent culmination of rage and terror. Her body is a wan chapel of bones for great things to scrawl their likeness onto. That smile the witch sports is a pretense of glee: trust not the murderer for she will drive her slender hands down your throat and pull forth your heart with your soul. Watch now, but she is beautiful in her fae-grace and ghastly image. See that gilded stare, alighted, haunted, beneath the curls of rioting wisteria that make up her hair. She is a vessel of hunger in the way that she watches, a hedonist’s greed swimming beneath the surface. The words of Gods and Saints shiver with worship on her tongue only to be carried into the night like some dying babe destined for things greater than this life. She is a shepherd, a witch, a wanderer and in her presence, the air is thick with gibbering spirits. She speaks in cryptic verse if left to her own devices and when it all comes to an end the world is never the same.
Scars & Markings: The Keeper has little to offer in the way of physical imperfections aside from the racial markings shared by most descendants of Miqo’te blood and a small beauty mark beneath her right eyes. A lot of the time, she paints her face as well as her hands in varying patterns that harken back to a moonlit heritage. Though it looks permanent, it likely isn’t in any sense of the word.
Mannerisms: Languid, airy. There is elegance in her actions though it is not without her feebleness. She is secretive and oddly foreign in her motions, her eccentric behavior abounds peppered with a capricious and highly erratic nature.
Clothing: Flowing silks and jewelry are often draped over her frame. It is obvious she has expensive tastes and an eye for fashion. There is Thavnairian flair within her dressing, having a passion for the garbs worn by inhabitants of a nation she once visited in her studies.
The Keeper is a queer thing, off-kilter and foreign at best. Her nature is not without goodness, however. Affable, empathetic, affectionate and even maternal on the surface, such traits make for a disarming creature. There burns within her a wanderlust that cannot be quenched, soles destined to carry this way and that leave her well traveled and cultured beyond the realms of thought of most folk she encounters. Hawu is eager to learn, various academic texts always within reach as she is often found scrawling down various theories of aetherial means as well as arithmetic bordering on an insufferable difficulty without pause. Carrying herself nobly and with confidence without foregoing the basic tenets of modesty when in the presence of others, the miqo’te is oft found unwilling to discuss various achievements unless the matter is pried.
Hawu is a pleasure seeker of the highest accolades and does not skimp on things best left unbought. Morals and ideals are left skewed or swept out of existence completely, for there is whimsy in her actions where heavy decision-making is prompted. Cold and brutal, ruthlessness has its place in her ways and it is not oft far out of reach by any means. There is very little regard for those she has not acknowledged or held a fondness for, and it is not without notice by a more perceptive gaze. Her level of care in certain situations can be described as laughable, especially for those in varying states of duress. She harbors a lack pity for even the poorest of folk, finding the behavior of beggars to be ‘darling’ and ‘obtuse’ for the belief that one can remove themselves from any situation is nigh immovable in her thoughts. A business woman at first glance, and a hedonist at her core, she is silver-tongued, sensual and opportunistic. With an eye for finery and a flair for the exotic, she is often described as a fresh presence in the room, despite her eclectic behavior.
Likes
Arithmetic
Piousness
Flowers and Those That Keep Them
Dislikes
Bright Light
Loud Noises
Arrogance
Interests
Magical Theorem
The Acquisition and Usage of Ancient Artifacts
Amassing Knowledge and Material Wealth
Features
Oversized Ears and Tail
Poor Constitution
Hazy Detached Stare
Some of these rumors are untrue, speculation, or are greatly exaggerated. Please feel free to add your own rumors under the Player Character category!
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◢ Common Rumors - Easily overheard. Use these freely!
■ "Strange creature, that ‘un… They say she sees and hears things we do not. Ain’t no Hearer if I ever seen one. Shite, somethin’ ain’t right about it.” -- Gridanian Shopkeep
■ "The kit does good work, much like her Master before her. Seems a bit hazy, though. It doesn’t seem to affect her abilities and they are frightening in their preciseness." -- Scholarly Youth
■ "Gods, have you ever seen the likes of something so decorative before? Those silks, s’like she’s little else but billowing fabric, it’s positively spectacular!" -- Starry-eyed Lass
◢ Uncommon Rumors -A little more difficult to hear. Use sparingly or ask first!
■ "Stay away from that wretched thing if ye know what’s good for ye. Speaks in tongues, hexes and shite. Foul things like ‘at haven’t a place here." -- Spitting Sailor
■ "Saw her in the meads picking flowers in the middle of the night. She looks ghostly, they say she wanders about like that often." -- Drowsy Fieldkeep
■ "Sick, isn’t she? Poor thing is fragile, weak even. Always coming here for medicine to stock her shelves with. Gods keep her well, she always leaves extra coin." -- Ul’dahn Alchemist
◢ Rare Rumors -Very rarely overheard. Please ask before using!
■ "Ain’t hear nothin’ from me but she’s an ungrateful murderess. Killed ‘er Mentor for his keep an’ coin. You’d think she’d take kindly to the man who’d raised ‘er up from nothin’." -- Dithering Crone
■ "I used to see the girl when on errands to the estate. She looked more human at one point, though that was a long time ago. I always wondered what had happened to have the light leave her eyes like that." -- Sniffling Errand Boy
■ "Sold the Graves Estate and made a fortune with the leftover coin from his will through investments. That Miqo’te isn’t anything to trifle with, she knows what she is doing, taught by the best. Though questionable things did go on beyond those gates, that’s for damn sure. Taught well, brought up well, she’s just a bit lost is all. Wish she’d teach though Graves was always stingy with his research. She’s all that’s left." -- Aetherial Scholar
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◢ Player Character Rumors -Feel free to add rumors of your own!
■ "Don't call her kitten, even if she does look like one. She can zap you dead, yeh?" C'dhen Tia
■ "I like to think I have gotten to know her; as a person, or perhaps as an apparition embroidered with memories of a past life." Gehr'ir Ett
A Magus of High Esteem.
■ In need of consultation services regarding matters financial, aetherial or scientific? Are you perhaps looking to commune with spirits, wondering why you have such ill fate, or desperate for someone who knows what they are doing to appraise and price out wares or artifacts of some questionable origin? Hawu is always open for more employment. Come one, come all. You’ve probably heard of her and her eerily precise work.
■ Advice can come at a price, at a steeper price she may just participate in your endeavor.
■ Investment is always a possibility.
Mired in Intrigue.
■ Rumors are often spread of the Witch and her Mentor. Is she his lover? His Mistress? Mayhap she murdered him after an argument that had come to a particularly chilling stalemate. What exactly went on beyond the boundaries of the twisted gates and that clinical garden of the Graves estate? Where did all that money go? Surely she was not the only one who inherited it all… or is she?
■ Are they even human? Where did they even come from?
Wandering Spectre in the Meads.
■ Or the desert, or the twelveswood. Hawu’s appearance in quite striking and she is often regarded as a ghost rather than a person from afar. Some say she is a Wildling taken by the elementals, others believe she is a benevolent spirit who brings prosperity. Perhaps you’ve seen her on her nightly strolls as she meanders about plucking flowers or lounging in the middle of a vast expanse of land. She prays she weeps, she walks. At times she sits and stays for a while, the idea of walking up is not beyond the possibility for courageous folk, or perhaps you’re just stupid enough to bother a woman as she enjoys the evening, either way, it could very well end in you making a new and unlikely friend - or an enemy.
The Sole Pupil of A Celebrated Mind.
■ There are many things to be said about Walter Graves though the worst all lead back to one, unchallenged idea and that is the fact that the man was brilliant, if not terrifying in his ability to manipulate aether. He was known to be terribly eccentric, dark and opulent. He was a tall, austere man who dressed from head to toe in the blackest of suits with hints of addictive scarlet peppered about his person in the form of pince-nez, lapels, shoes, gloves, kerchiefs or otherwise. They say his gaze was so penetrating, so knowing that it could freeze the blood as it flowed through the veins of the folk trapped beneath it and yet his smile was so unbearably wolfish yet kind.
■ Midnight dinners, bacchanalian gatherings and profane performances conducted by only the most high-end of gathered talents seemed to be the norm within the estate. They say that at night the house seemed to come to life and if you were a guest within it, you were no doubt a person of reputable importance. No word is permitted to leave the grounds and it is often said that folks were to take an oath upon entering the household. Betraying the pact upon leaving seemed to be punishable by death - or so they say.
■ Naturally, with a man of Walter’s caliber, he must have had many students? Why, hundreds even! … Wrong. It was strange and infuriating that such a mage was not privy to passing on his legacy even when offered fortunes by young, aspiring students. Naturally, the Guilds, as well as those sharing such high stature, were absolutely infuriating when the man decided to take in an indigent, destitute and uneducated runt of a miqo’te. How dare he do such a thing?
■ Even after his passing he left nothing to pass on save for this strange young woman. She is just as enigmatic as he is, if not more, though she does seem a bit nicer though she is just as, if not more unwilling to teach as her predecessor.
A Friend of Mister Graves.
■ Mayhap you are an old comrade of the smiling man or an associate. If so, you have undoubtedly seen the somber girl in his presence and shared words whilst Walter left the room. She has no doubt entertained you on some level or mayhap she was not permitted to speak in your presence for whatever reason. She used to be so full of life, mystified by nigh everything that came through the doors until one day the girl was changed. Hawu is no longer a girl but she is a creature, a being swathed in an ethereal haze, one who cannot seem to come down from whatever place she had floated off to.
■ Something about her aether is warped, off-kilter, just unnatural. Is that a shadow looming over her head? She is unwilling to speak on it, though Walter would have been exceptionally giddy. Word of being complete seemed to waft through his lips. He’s moon-eyed, even.
He has been dead two years now. Hawu is the only thing left.
Poor Constitution.
■ She looks weary, tired. Has she eaten? The lady might have purchased medicines from your shop or a shop near you. She doesn’t seem privy to visiting clinics. The sniffling is a bit worrisome. Are those dark circles under her eyes? Perhaps you should help her.
Blind in The Hell Fire of Day.
■ As a Keeper, Hawu is not often found outside during the bells kept by Azeyma and her kin. One might find her dozing, jeweled or otherwise in the shade of a tall tree, overhang or on a porch. She doesn’t look like she belongs there.
Human.
■ Something about her aether is warped, touched, even.
■ Is she perhaps a Wilding, taken by the elementals? Can you sense spirits, hear them? Perhaps you can bond over that.
There is something awfully detached about the little woman, she seems burdened by things unseen or rather kept busy else wise. She stares off into space, speaks to seemingly nothing. Nods to the walls and lingers in the shadows proper, praying. Something surely is amiss… though she is definitely not a voidsent.
Keeper of the Moon.
■ Hawu is very much a Keeper of the moon. Mayhap your clan has seen that one particular sept of the Jinjahl stalking about, heard talk of how they prefer to kill their runts in the crib, the brutality of their worship for the Hunt or the dismissal of pride.
■ There is a curiously ethereal miqo’te stalking about, a Quowaital - they call them. He’s strange and bears a striking resemblance to the little witch, though there aren’t many other children walking around that have the same face. How effeminate, how lovely. Ah, but he is elusive. Mayhap you could find his daughter instead?
■ She seems to get on well with folk belonging to the night. A conversation is in order, of course.
In The Name of Research! Science! … Whatever!
■ Looking to research and make headway on a peculiar topic? Speak to Hawu. She’s a Consultant, clearly, she knows what she is doing. Or maybe not.
Songs used to set a mood, lyrics may not reflect the views of my character. Please mind your speakers when clicking the links.
■ I will play mature content and themes (violence, sexuality, drug / alcohol use) as long as they're logical in a plot-driven encounter. Coarse and excessive language. Temporary injury and incapacitation. Temporary imprisonment. Most walk-up encounters.
■ Ask about long-term and/or permanent injury and disfigurement. Long-term captivity or imprisonment.
■ I won't play permanent character death or rape plots.
Disclaimer
■ If an aspect of RP makes you uncomfortable in a scene we're playing, please send me a /tell, letting me know. Communication is very important, more important than potentially keeping immersion.
Links Out
Links that lead off the wiki, but are technically relevant to the character.
