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"I see a potential lover in your future. He looks something like me."

0 · 1,188 views · located in Terradeth

a character in “Crows and Coins”, as played by LuckyNumber24


|| C H A R O N ||


"A serpent wears the crown and her venom spreads throughout the world



Hair: Coarse blonde hair pulled back into a thick braid that reaches the base of his neck. He often shaves the sides of his head
Facial Hair: A thick beard that has become unruly in recent times.
Eyes: Blue-Grey
Build: Broad, large, and visibly muscular.
Skin Tone: Fair, often dirty.
Height: 6’0
Weight: 220 lbs
Voice: Most people don’t believe Charon’s voice quite suits his hardened appearance. His voice, although deep, is soothing and gentle with a rhythmic almost song like quality.
Handed: Right handed
Body Markings: Tribal tattoos that appear on the sides of his head when he certain magic.
Scar Tissue: Spending much of his time with barbarian tribes, Charon has fought his entire life. This shows in the scars marking his body. Most of them are small, but there is one slash over his chest that came from a life threatening wound.
Unique Body Features: Those who meet Charon typically remember his crystal blue eyes, which seem to hold wisdom far beyond his years.

Charon, Son of Beira

The Wandering Seer, The Witch’s Son, Son of Winter

3/4 Free Folk 1/4 Darini

Free Folk

Visual Age

Factual Age


Sexual Orientation


"I hear many voices, but yours is the only one I welcome, friend."

Charon is far from the merciless savages many in Terradeth believe all Free Folk are. He is a kind and benevolent spirit with a relaxed air about him. With a knowing gaze and genuine smile‍‍‍, he makes those around him feel comfortable and at ease. He cares deeply for people and life and that comes across in the way he treats others. Charon shows kindness to all he comes across and easily makes friends during his travels, though some suspect he only acts this way to live down the reputation of his mother. There is some truth to this, Charon cannot deny it, and his fears of who he may become certainly drives him to be a better person than Beira. Though he does not abide by a code like a knight or Inquisitor, Charon follows his conscience and his own morality to make decisions. He can also be quite silly and certainly has a sense of humor. He can be quite flirtatious and forward with those he finds attractive.

This is not to say Charon is without an edge. He is still a warrior and will not tolerate those who betray his trust or harm those he cares about. He stands up for what he believes in and for others, even if it’s not always the easiest thing to do. He sometimes struggles to contain his rage and barbarian ferocity, which has been enhanced by the Dark Ones. Because of this, he tends to shy away from fights and situations where he would typically not back down. He fears that if he gives into this anger, the Dark Ones will fully take over and make him the man he fought so desperately not to be. However, the Dark Ones press on and twists Charon's sense of justice in an attempt to get their host to partake in violence.

As a Seer, Charon is often sought after for his counsel and his advice is considered very valuable. He possesses a vast amount of wisdom, some gained over the years, but much of it is innate. Charon has a natural understanding of the world, which he desperately wishes could be a better place. However, he is tired. The Dark Ones has been within him for over two years and hosting the spirits has drained him mentally and spiritually. They have succeeded in some degree in manipulating him and small fragments of his soul have given up. A part of Charon even believes that the power of the Dolos could help him make the world a fairer and brighter place.


~Superstitious: Like many barbarians, Charon is incredibly superstitious and is cautious of things that would bring bad luck, attract evil spirits, or disrespect the dead.

~Faithful: In the same vein as his superstition, Charon is a man of faith and prays regularly to his ancestors and the Great Ones.

~“Do I have to kill it?”: Despite being a hunter and a regular consumer of meat, Charon has a love for animals, especially anything small and cute. This makes it incredibly difficult for him to hunt anything like rabbits or squirrels. It’s even been difficult for him to take down deers because of the warm feeling he gets inside when they look at him with those big brown eyes.

~Medium: As a Seer and the host of the Dark Ones, Charon is highly susceptible to spirits and communicates with them frequently. To others, it appears as those he is talking to himself, which causes those unfamiliar with his talents to question his sanity.

Moral Alignment
Chaotic Good

-Charon had always sought to help those in need and heal the suffering.
-He desires to be a good man and leave behind the dark legacy of his mother.
-Charon wishes to rid himself of the Dark Ones, before he becomes just another face for the darkness to wear.

-Presently, Charon’s greatest fear are the Dark Ones and their effects it’ll have on him. He is afraid that they’ll turn him into someone he’s not or, worse, simply bring out the monster he truly is.

-Charon is incredibly superstitious and has always feared the evil spirits his mother warned him of. Obviously, these fears were well placed.

-Charon is terrified of facing the retribution of his father and siblings.

Healing ~ Charon enjoys helping whoever he can, whether it's healing the sick, feeding the hungry, or simply listening to someone in need of comfort.
People ~ As someone who has spent much of his time in large groups, being a lone wanderer has never suited Charon very well. This is why he chose to flee to Korrigan, a densely populated area.
Spirituality ~ Though many of his practices are ineffective and, as some would say, nonsense, Charon finds comfort in his spirituality. It grounds him and, even though he's seen so much evil, gives him enough hope to fight against the darkness within himself.
Food ~ Charon is a big man and it takes a lot of fuel to keep him going. He loves eating and would consume an entire feast if he had the opportunity.
Sex ~ Charon is a man who likes pleasure and sex is one of his favorite past times when it's with someone he enjoys.

Darkness ~ Charon has always been wary of what he believes is evil, but now his fear is mixed with anger. He hates the Dark Ones and their attempts to manipulate him. He hates what they turned his mother into and what it would turn him into if it had the chance. He also hates that he sometimes just wants to give into them. This causes him to become rather ruthless when he sees corruption and evil in others.
Ignorance ~ Because Charon is so open and has been exposed to many different ways of life, he has issues with those who would persecute another based on their differences. This causes him to be incredibly frustrated with the country of Jerum, who seeks to strip his people of their religion.
Rage ~ Though Charon has always had a bit of a temper, he now has the Dark Ones to fan the flames of his rage. He often feels it creeping up on him when he sees injustice or cruelty, but usually manages resist the urge to act on such feelings. He dislikes this anger, because he feels that it gives the evil spirits more power over him.

Seasoned - Charon has spent much of his life both fighting and healing. Because of this, he is very skilled in both areas.
Likable - The barbarian has a down to earth and honest air about him, which causes others to trust and like him. This and his tenancy to do favors for others causes him to make allies everywhere he goes.
Seer - Charon's natural abilities allow him to see glimpses of the future and obtain information that others cannot. This knowledge makes him extremely valuable and assists him in making important decisions.
The Dark Ones - The Dark Ones, like familiars, amplify the power of their host and strengthen Charon's magical abilities. They can also manifest themselves before him and offer advice. However, Charon rarely listens to the spirits' counsel.

Fearful - Charon can be overcautious and slow to act because of his fear of the Dark One's grasp on him. This makes him slower to confrontation than usual and also question his decisions.
Selfless - He puts others, especially the innocent, before his own safety. This can put Charon in life threatening situations, especially in these dangerous times.
Trusting - Though not exactly gullible, Charon typically assumes that those around him are telling the truth and are trust worthy. However, that is not always the case.
Salt & Iron - With the Dolos inside his body for so long, his flesh has begun to reject the same substances as a dark spirit or witch. Thankfully, these allergies have not affected his life too much.
The Dark Ones - While the Dark Ones increase his power by a considerable amount, the spirits mentally drains him and is constantly trying to manipulate their host.

Is your character literate? In what languages?
Charon can speak the Free Tongue and Darini fluently, but is not a strong reader in any language. With assistance from the Dark Ones or his mother, he can speak arcane and infernal languages.

C O M B A T || P R O W E S S


"I don't need a vision to see how this will end."

Rating System
[Perfect] - [Excellent] - [Good] - [Above Average] - [Average] - [Below Average] - [Poor] - [Very Poor]


Hand-to-Hand Combat: [Good] Charon has been fighting for as long as he could walk and has shown skill in unarmed combat. He is physically powerful and large, capable of using brute strength to bring down average enemies. However, because he relies so heavily on his strength, his technique is far from perfect, putting him at a disadvantage against those who know how to use his weight against him.

Melee Combat: [Good] Whether he's armed with a sword, ax, or dagger, an adversary would discover that Charon is very skilled with a melee weapon. He has spent decades training with a sword and can certainly give any warrior worth his salt a good fight.

Ranged Combat: [Average] Charon is capable of shooting a bow and has decent aim, but it is far from his preferred weapon.

Magic Combat: [Below Average, but increasing] Generally, Charon's magic is very passive, but since the Dark Ones increased his abilities, he is capable of using more aggressive and lethal forms of the craft. Despite this, he refuses to use these dark powers.

Mounted Combat: [Average] Charon is capable of defending himself on a mount, but prefers to do all the fighting on foot.

Instincts - [Above Average] In addition to his clairvoyant abilities, Charon possesses the primal and animal instincts of a Free Man.
Strength - [Good] Charon is strong in mind, body, and spirit. He has a physically powerful body and also a resolve that's almost unmovable. He will not compromise his beliefs or values or betray the people he cares for.
Magic [Excellent] A skilled shaman, Charon has been preforming his magic for his entire life and has learned quite a bit from his mother before her death. Though he does not have a lot of experience outside of divination and healing, he has incredible skill in those two areas.

Divination: With the use of tools such as cards, bones, or runes, Charon can divine a variety of information. This allows him to gain insight into situations, people, and even the near future. However, this method can be fickle and does not always reveal what he desires.

Healing: Through both magical and herbal remedies, Charon can successfully treat most types of wounds, however, he has had many patients too far gone for his abilities to save.

Familiars: Charon possesses three sparrows as familiars named Siv, Torhild, and Ragveig. They help him collect herbs and also scout out areas before he travels through them.

Animal Control: Charon is capable of magically befriending animals and convince them to follow his commands.

Seer: A natural gift, Charon often receives visions and premonitions in his dreams or when he sees something that triggers it. He is capable of forcing these visions by ingesting rare herbs and entering an altered trance like state. These visions, although more powerful than divination, are extremely vague and often leave Charon with more questions than answers. He also has an easier time communicating with the spirit world than most mages.

Powers of the Dark Ones: When the Dark Ones took Charon as a host, it gifted him with dark magic similar to witchcraft. He is capable of casting violent curses
and performing the most heinous rituals with the guidance of the Dolos. However, Charon refuses to use these abilities, even if they are superior to his own.


"Do you need anything? I have water and food I could spare."
Most of Charon's meager possessions are carried within a leather satchel. They include some spare clothes, water, a coin purse, herbs, and his tools for divination; a deck of cards, a bag of animal bones, and a bag of stones with runes carved into them.

Several beads braided into his hair that belonged to his mother.

Weapon Name: Winterkiss
Weapon Type: Enchanted long sword
Material: Enchanted steel
Ammo: N/A
Length: 36 inches (blade being 30 inches)
Weight: 2.8 lbs
Weapon Description/Info: A gift from Beira, Winterkiss is an enchanted blade with rather painful effects. Any wound created by Winterkiss will soon begin to exhibit symptoms similar to frostbite. The wound will become increasingly itchy and painful before the skin and flesh around it begins to blacken and die.

Weapon Name: N/A
Weapon Type: ax
Material: wood and steel
Ammo: N/A
Length: 22 inches 4 inch blade)
Weight: 3 lbs
Weapon Description/Info: A simple, yet dependable tool often used by Charon in battle, but more typically utilized in more practical ways.

Weapon Name: N/A
Weapon Type: dagger
Material: Steel
Ammo: N/A
Length: 7 inches
Weight: 1 lbs
Weapon Description/Info: A simple hunting knife of decent quality, used only for mundane tasks like skinning animals or cutting herbs.

Weapon Name: N/A
Weapon Type: bow and arrows
Material: Yew
Ammo: Steel tipped arrows
Length: 50 inches
Weight: 3.5 lbs
Weapon Description/Info: Used primarily in hunting, but Charon also will also use it in battle when necessary.



"My past? Well sit down because you're in for quite a tale."

Group Affiliation
Anyone who Charon can call friend.

Marital Status

Beira ~ Mother ~ Deceased
Deimos ~ Father
Hel ~ Older Sister
Skadi ~ Older Sister
Balder ~ Younger Brother
Fenrir ~ Younger Brother

The Freelands

Social Rank

Fortune Teller / Healer / Worker at the Aviary

Charon was born of a barbarian tribe in the Tribelands. His mother, Beira, was the tribe's shaman and a powerful mage while his father, Deimos, was one of their most skilled warriors and raiders. Despite the hopes of Deimos, the young Charon took after his mother and showed a natural skill for healing and divination. Beira became his mentor and began to train him in the ways of shamanism. As a kind boy who enjoyed helping others, he took to this and enjoyed his growing set of skills. His talent for divination grew quickly, eventually surpassing his mother’s in terms of raw power though he was young. Still, that did stop the superstitious people of the Tribelands from seeking out the “oracle boy” in pursuit of his mystic counsel. Young and unaware of what exactly his visions and readings meant, Charon would offer his talents to anyone who sought them, something that eventually brought war to his people.

A large tribe attacked Charon’s people, slaughtering their warriors and seizing their supplies. The tribe’s chieftess was familiar with Charon’s reputation and ordered him to be taken as a slave. Beira attempted to protect her son, but was swatted aside and quickly forgotten by Charon’s captors. He grew from a boy into a man under the watch of the Chieftess, who used his divining abilities to assist in her war tactics. Though at first his captors frightened him and he was cruelly treated, he soon came to realize that they were not as different from his people as they thought. They too were spiritual and Charon found comfort in their gods. He began to understand their language, their code, their ways, and as he grew older he began to assimilate into the their society. Charon trained with them and became a strong warrior, while also gaining considerable skill as a healer. He made friends and became incredibly close to the Chieftess, who became like a second mother to him. He became blood and proved himself a true member of the tribe.

One morning, he woke up and felt air colder than he could even imagine. He could barely move as he wandered the camp and discovered that the entire tribe had died during the night, leaving their corpses completely frozen. As Charon wondered what could have done this and why he alone was spared, he received his answer. His mother, Beira, stood over the frostbitten body of the Chieftess, but she was different than he remembered. She wore white furs and a crown of ice, her skin was inhumanly pale, and her dark eyes were devoid of almost any emotion. Despite this, the glimmer of love Charon saw in his mother’s eyes gave him enough hope to embrace her, but not enough to forgive the atrocity she had committed.

He returned to his former tribe, but many things had changed. Beira ruled over them with an iron fist and enforced her rule with dark magic the aid of his father and siblings. The people feared them and feared Charon as well. He sat by his mother’s side as an adviser for years, trying, in his subtle way to return her to the kind healer she had once been. But, when he discovered that her reign of terror began with a pact with group of malevolent spirits known as the Dark Ones, Charon knew that she was too far gone. One night, Beira planned the sacrifice of a young girl to appease the Dark Ones. While preparing with his mother and younger sister, Hel, Charon took advantage of his mother’s trust and thrust a dagger into her heart in an effort to end the darkness that consumed her. Unfortunately, his plan failed. His mother died, but the Dark Ones simply attached themselves to the nearest host; Charon. He blacked out, but when he awoke, he was overwhelmed by voices. He had always felt the presence of spirits and could communicate with the other side through magic, but this was completely different. He could hear them all clearly and see them as if they were physically before him. Hel, still crying over their mother, attempted to kill him, but he narrowly managed to escape.

Charon wandered the Tribelands, pursued mercilessly by his own family. He took advantage of the distraction of Jerum's war and fled to Northeld, where he found residence at local brothel called the Aviary. Although he primarily works a fortune teller and healer, he has been known to dance for the patrons of the brothel.

"Oh, don't mind me. I just came to see if you needed warming up. It's cold tonight."

So begins...

Charon's Story


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Charon Character Portrait: Huli Jing
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Huli Jing
The Aviary Brothel, Northeld
After Dusk

Madame Huli smiled, clapping to the rhythm of tan skin drums and dancing bells around the ankles of songbirds. She sat in embroidered blue silks with a golden crow perched in her hair, watching the room intently. She sat on the edge of her throne, running her fingers along the serpents, birds, and nubile young bodies carved into her arm rests. Above her head, an ebony dragon coiled with great fangs bared for all the patrons of the Aviary to see.

The guests watching from their perfumed cushions were of all ranks and backgrounds, mouths slightly agape and eyes filled with hunger as scantily clad songbirds twirled and leapt with sheer veils waving from their fingers. A group of musicians played behind them, the sounds of drums, flutes, and lyres floating into the air where they mixed with the scent of jasmine and rose. When songbirds finished their dance and their chests rose and fell with labored breaths, they were greeted with thunderous applause.

As Huli rose from her throne, the songbirds broke into clusters and scurried into the crowd, draping themselves over their potential clients. "I hope you are all enjoying the entertainment tonight." Huli said, raising cheers of approval from the audience. The Queen of Crows smiled, as pleased as a cat with a mouth full of feathers. She turned her head, nodding to the drummers. The largest of them began to beat his instrument with slow drawn out hits. She turned her attention back to the crowd, a grave expression overcoming her features. "However, I must warn you," The beat of the drum increased ever so slightly. Huli looked around, eyes widened as she dramatically craned her neck, as if she was searching for something. "Wild beasts have been known to sneak into this defenseless henhouse."

The songbirds gasped dramatically as the drum became louder. They clung onto each other and their clients, trembling in both fear and excitement. Their breaths quickened and became more audible with each beat of the drum, their anticipation like lightning in the air.

Huli resisted the urge to smile. Their acting was a tad dramatic, but many of the brothel's patrons were rather dense. It took big gestures to get their point across. "Foxes, wolves, and serpents have found their way into these halls of pleasures." Her coy eyes narrowed. "From time to time, even great bears have wandered in from the savage Tribelands." The drummer went full force, pounding his instrument and the heart of everyone within the Aviary.

A large furred form lumbered into the room. As it sulked forward, the songbirds squealed. The beast rose up onto its hind legs and dropped the pelt covering its broad shoulders, revealing a pale muscular torso, shocking gray eyes, and a coarse blond braid. Charon roared as he flexed, his biceps bulging. He paced back and forth on the stage, Huli watching from her throne with a smirk. Charon snarled and snapped wildly at the audience, as if he were looking for prey. The Seer was certainly having fun with the role. The musicians began to play a primitive tune with heavy drums and an approximation of Tribeland chanting. Charon began to pound his chest and roll his body to the rhythm of the music.

The Countess Crow slipped away as the crowd focused on the shaman. She smiled politely at Mau and the other old women assisting her as she passed through the kitchen. The smell of pork and spices filled the air, reminding Huli that she had not yet eaten dinner. She came to an empty hall and pushed through a door carefully hidden in the wall.

Alone, in a dark room sat a bloodied man with dark hair. He was tied to a chair, severely beaten. He looked up at the queen through swollen eyes.

She bared her teeth in a wicked smile. "Ready to talk?"


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Charon Character Portrait: Gildan Lodes
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Charon, Son of Beira and Gildan Lodes
The Aviary Brothel

Charon could hear them. He could always hear them.

The Dark Ones stood in the corner of his room, obscured by unnatural shadows. Their whispers buzzed in Charon's ears, like the drone of locusts. Some days, he could hear kinder souls among them, typically one of his ancestors or some benevolent nature spirit. However, this night there were only the voices of an ancient evil. They had yet to harm him or even come too close, but they were always watching from a distance, whispering amongst themselves. However, in moments like this, the Seer found them rather easy to ignore.

Charon rested on his bare stomach, his feet bouncing to Serket bells, flutes, and guitars from beneath the floorboards. The performances would last until the sun rose. Then, the more respectable patrons would rush out of the Aviary's golden door, hiding their noble faces until they returned to their wives in Southeld. The Seer held Gil's hand as if he would a small bird, tenderly rubbing his thumb along a group of scars on the underside of his wrist. Although the flesh had mended itself, Charon could still feel a dark magic leaking from the wounds. He pressed his lips against them, saying a silent prayer of protection to the Great Ones and the Ancestors as he kissed the damaged skin.

Charon looked up at his lover with a clever smirk as he adjusted his naked body on the sweaty silk sheets."I hope you enjoyed the dance tonight." He purred as he placed his free hand on Gil's thigh, drawing aimless circles on his pale skin. His grey eyes studied Gil's body, running along his many scars with interest. They reminded him of his own, some of which, such as the nick across his nose, still stung every time he thought of them. "Huli thinks I could bring in more noblewomen if I stopped focusing on you every time you're in the crowd." He smiled mischievously. "But I doubt that I'd have nearly as much fun."

Of course, Gil had been there.

He always appeared in the most opportune times, milky-blue eyes searching. As a wolf might: hungry. Huli had the right of it when she’d warned that the Aviary had a nasty habit of attracting beasts and predators alike. Sitting in the thrumming throng of watchers in the crowd, he’d draped himself where he always sat. It was an awful habit. One that he wasn’t inclined to rid himself of. He’d been hunkered on lavish pillows, wrought with silks, with a mewling little mouse seated in his lap. Squirming into his arms when the savage drumbeats foreshadowed Charon’s appearance. His eyes, however, were ever trained on the circular stage in front of them.

They were both beasts: he and Charon. In different manners, he supposed. Both hailing from the Tribelands, and both with veins that bled and wept with some sort of arcane energy they were loathe to admit they had. It would mean the death of them. Strung up: lynched in the streets. The Bastard Kings’, and their boot-licking Inquisitor’s, would make sure of that. Perhaps, it was there that the similarities ended. Charon was a much kinder soul. He was a charming tightrope-walk between a rawness he found appealing and a finger-kissing altruism he wasn’t sure what to do with. In comparison, he was… not. He couldn’t afford to stall his momentum.

It certainly didn’t stop him from finding himself in Charon’s arms. In the Crow’s lovely Aviary. Frequent customer’s who did not tread on the Queen of Crow’s feet were always[ welcome. He took care not to dance too close to her affairs, as long as they did not align with his own. It was the closest thing to a sanctuary he’d found since coming off Korrigan’s streets. A place, at least, he could recuperate, and breathe, without the threat of having a jewel-crusted blade stuck in his throat. Sinking his teeth into someone else' had always been his style. The Aviary had everything he needed. For a time. At least until his wounds healed.

Gil was laid out on his back with one of the silken sheets tangled across one leg and draped over his midsection. Softer sheets, they’d say, couldn’t be found anywhere. He could vouch for that. One of his hands was tucked under his head, beneath the pillow. The other he’d let rest at his side. Now scooped in Charon’s hands, pressed against his lips. He watched him between half-lidded eyes. An eyebrow raised and a small smile crooked at the corner of his lips. Though it was the moonlight creeping through the corner of heavy curtains that caught his attention. Late.It was late. While he’d never professed to following strict schedules, his rats had whispers of their own. A man had come. One he’d rather see strung up by his guts.

A sigh sifted past Gil’s lips as he sat up and hunched closer to grizzled man. He pulled his hand free from the man’s exploring fingers, and caught hold of his chin, tipping it up so that he could look at him properly. For a moment he allowed the silence to fill in the spaces, and broke it with a wolfish grin, “She’s probably right. But pretty hens… they can be boring. All bark and no teeth. You’d be too much for them to handle.” In a sense, he was much too good for them. For him, too. His own movements, his actions, were anything but soft. Even as his thumb tickled across the man’s lips, he fought the urge to grip and drag and tear. Gil laughed as he released Charon’s chin, flipping the silk sheet over his head. Shielding him from those impossibly blue eyes of his.

He swung his legs off the bed and slipped down to his bare feet. Crinkled his toes through the soft fibres of the furred mat. It only took him a moment to locate his trousers. Left in a messy pile. A line of clothes strewn across the room as if they’d been discarded in a hurry. The state of the chamber was hectic, almost as if there was a fight. Chairs tumbled over. Pillows and feathers in a sad, rumpled pile. They wouldn’t have been far from the mark. After tugging up his pants, Gil turned to plant both hands on the end of the bed, “This is the worst part, y’know.” He rolled his eyes, “I’ve got things to attend to.”

Charon groaned, crawling over to Gil. He draped his arms over his broad shoulders, loosely wrapping them around his neck. "I'm sure your rats can manage without their king for one more hour." A part of Charon wished that he could keep Gil there forever. He couldn't quite label his feelings for the Bleeder with a name as simple as love or lust. It was an animalistic sort of magnetism that drew the two together and Charon's affection for the other man grew with every drunken sweaty encounter they shared. "I could make it worth your while." The Seer nuzzled the crook of Gil's neck, his beard rubbing against him. He nibbled at Gil's skin, his flesh reddening slightly with each nip. Perhaps Gil reminded Charon of the home he was no longer welcomed in. There was an insatiable hunger that radiated off of his spirit and a wolfish gleam in his eye that Charon had seen too many times in the eyes of his brother, Fenrir. And, although it had been years since Gil had been to their homeland, Charon could feel the Free Folks blood that ran like wild horses in his veins.

He pulled his lips away from Gil's neck, only to whisper in his ear with a devilish grin. "I believe I'm having a vision." Charon nodded, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples, one arm still hooked around the Gil. "Yes, yes. You are in grave danger." With one rapid motion, Charon had swung around, straddling the smaller man. "You must stay in this room tonight, or disaster will fall upon your house." He giggled as he stared into the pale blue eyes of his bedmate, pushing aside the true visions invading his mind. A body thrown into a turbulent sea. A rat in the jaws of a hound. Blood spilling onto a pile of gold coins. Blood drowning the city. Blood drowning the world.

Blades might’ve been sharp, but Charon’s mind was sharper. He knew how boundless Gil’s appetites were. How insatiable his hunger had become over the years they’d known each other—it was never enough. Nothing was, in a sense. It was the reason he frequented the Aviary. Mind you, not always in his company. His fingers left traces in whatever pies were offered to him. Whether it involved bloody business in the streets or warm bodies, crooked under his arms.It wouldn’t have taken much to convince Gil to linger a little longer. Just a little longer. Did he love Charon? Did he love any of them? He did not know. Love was damning. Love was selfish. They could become vulnerabilities: easily exploited. No, they were transactions. Acquaintances. Allies, if anything at all. A listening ear. A shoulder. Someone to chew. It was easier to sort that way.

Gil’s ability to feel anything at all had dulled with time. He’d inflicted so much pain on himself that it became lackluster; a habit of sorts. When he wasn’t drowning in his own blood and leaving streaks through Aviary’s backrooms, he was a bottomless pit. Unfulfilled. Disastrously starved. When Charon draped his arm around his shoulders, he’d be sold on the idea of waiting til the sun rose above the buildings. Even if it meant seeking out his rats at a later time. Even if it meant missing the man he wanted to gut. “Mmhm?” a simple inquiry accompanied with a raised eyebrow. An invitation for action. Charon responded in kind. Leaning down as he was, he grated his teeth together and glanced over his shoulder, towards the doorway. He could almost imagine Huli staring a hole at the stairs, wondering why her prized stallion wasn’t entertaining other guests. The Tribesman was in high demand, garnering his own collection of followers; persistent patrons who called after him by name. He did not mind, especially as he was the only one of them to taste what Charon had to offer.

A laugh bubbled from his lips as Gil pulled back slightly to look at Charon’s face. Visions be damned, he was good talker. “I’m always in grave danger,” as soon as he got the words out, he had the Tribesman in his lap. Slippery as an eel. Quick as a foxhound. Had he the man on his side in a fight… he’d do better on the streets. Perhaps, come off them with less wounds. He tilted his head to the side and scoffed, “Lucky me, I’ve no house to doom.” It was the truth. Hardly any family to speak of. Where they were was anyone’s guess. Somewhere in the Hills, probably. Looking down at the damned in Korrigan. Laughing at their foolishness, and their weakness. They would never bend their knees. Better to die on a blade, like as not. A grin tugged at his lips as he leaned back against the sheets, “Fine then. You win.” Charon smiled, pleased with his victory.

It was only when sunlight peeked through the windows that Gil extracted himself from Charon’s arms and dressed himself fully. The Tribesman rested on his side, watching him through sleepy eyes. Charon always seemed disappointed when daylight came, but that was of no consequence to Gil. He could spare no more time, though it was likely that he’d skulk back through Huli’s doors soon enough. He always did. He snapped his buckle shut and adjusted his scabbards in the doorway. Goodbye’s never suited him. He’d always been the first to wake and leave; a phantom drifting through a bird’s nest. He rapped his knuckles on the door frame, signalling his retreat.

The jingling of coins attended his footfalls as he disappeared down the steps.