moon a—ra.     AN ORIGINAL CHARACTER WRITTEN EXCLUSIVELY FOR THEVEILKRP. a girl in the shape of a monster, a monster in the shape of a girl. a study in : feminine rage. heart—eating guilt. cannibalism as a metaphor for love. TRIGGERS WILL BE PRESENT THROUGHOUT a—ra's STORY, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO DEAD DOVE CONTENT SUCH AS VIOLENCE, GORE, CANNIBALISM, MURDER, TRAUMA, FAMINE, BODY HORROR, AND OTHER POTENTIAL NSFW THEMES. READER DISCRETION IS HIGHLY ADVISED.

code of conduct.

dossier.

in the shallows.

a tider—turned—shell after tragedy befell her modest clan, very few are privy to a—ra’s mysterious origins as to exactly how her entire pod died in the sea several decades ago. famine is the most popular theory, and one she would confirm with such forlorn. although whether it’s the complete truth is another thing entirely.despite growing affluence and wealth as a fishmonger and restaurateur ( and even more so as an informant to land dwellers, which far less know about ) there remained something deeply distasteful about the way a—ra conducted business. after all, how is that a siren —- a creature born of the sea itself —- would so casually carve up other marine beings into delicate portions, to serve them upon porcelain plates for wealthy patrons to consume? opportunistic to the marrow, it’s not far off to say that the former tider has no loyalty to her own kind, only to survival and pleasure. yet can one truly blame another after they have lost everything? cynical gazes scrutinize the every move of this willful siren, but disgust rarely survives within the threshold of nox. warm fluorescence spills across immaculate marble surfaces while the rich aroma of seared meat and melted butter coils thick in the air. fat crackles over open flame as notes of smoked herbs, salt, and aged wine curl through the restaurant in mouthwatering waves, permeating all five and sixth senses, mellowing even the sharpest of tongues. presentation has always been her greatest weapon. enough polish and the right aesthetic could make anyone forget who what rested on their plates while they take bite after bite.maintaining both nox and lunaris is a merciless undertaking, though neither empire slips from her grasp for even a moment. icy fingers remain wrapped firmly around every moving part, from the fishing routes before dawn to the final garnish placed on a patron’s table long after dusk. three coastal cities now house branches bearing her name, each one not only marking her spreading influence, but also as carefully constructed fronts for closed—door dealings conducted within private dining rooms at nox. merchants, politicians, nobility, and other powerful figures drift through her establishments in steady currents, trading secrets as freely as they drink their liquor. knowledge of the ocean’s movements, tides, and happenings beneath the sea are sold to the highest bidder, while information regarding land—side politics inevitably find their way back into her waiting hands. meanwhile, the menu changes every day, each evening dictated by whatever the ocean had surrendered to her boats that morning. no night is ever the same at nox. and if that was not enough to assuage the critics? well, the restaurateur is always looking for ways to spice up the menu.

beneath the surface.

wip!

trivia.

strings.

plots.

note: all plots listed are up for re–interpretation and changes whenever appropriate.

    the patron.        open. ╱ this can go plenty of ways!    
there was more to nox than just great food — there was her as well. after frequent visits to the popular eating establishment, the owner finally notices you and strikes up a conversation.

    serendipity?        taken. ╱ must be a long—living species.    
a familiar face you can't forget. though this time you weren't staring at her from the shore. you see feet instead of a tail. but those eyes, as black as the void still. curiosity leads you to follow her and start to wonder, how could a lowborn siren suddenly find herself in the upper echelons of society?

    FAIR–WEATHERED.        open. ╱ CHEMISTRY REQUIRED.    
there was nothing more between you two apart from strangers who have memorized each other’s desires and can’t seem to get enough. but what happens when your circles and interests collide outside the confinements of the boudoir?

    scorned.        open. ╱ must be another supernatural.    
her song plays in your head over and over, a never—ending tune you cannot escape. once upon a time, you were each other’s haven amidst hellish circumstances. promises of being together were forged. no one leaves without the other. until she moved on and was never to be seen again. time passes, melodies you thought forgotten haunt your ears once more when you find yourself in altor and glimpse a familiar face.

    to die for.        open.    
you pride yourself as an employee of nox. it was a small crush you harbored, no more than platonic admiration. regardless, you’ve always put the siren on quite a pedestal and vehemently disagree with the rumors that surround her. however, your beliefs are challenged when you find out what exactly it is she puts in the ever—changing menu.

prompts.