Deckhand of the Obsidian
Age: 20
Sailing Satisfaction: 8/10
The Obsidian’s Opinion of Me: She likes me. Like… really likes me. I think I make her laugh.
Age: 20
Sailing Satisfaction: 8/10
The Obsidian’s Opinion of Me: She likes me. Like… really likes me. I think I make her laugh.
Curse: The Shark Charmer’s Mark
🧃 My Story
Alright, look. I didn’t rig those dance contests. I won those dance contests. There’s a difference—and anyone who saw me spin out of a backflip with a shoulder roll and perfect landing knows it. Blame my cheri, the tightrope walker who taught me every move I’ve got.
Her family didn’t like that. Said I was ruining her future. Said I wasn’t worth the rope she walked on. So when the threats came? I didn’t fight.
I left.
I left.
Signed onto the Obsidian that very night, with nothing but busted cargo pants, a bruised ego, and a mohawk that glows brighter than my future ever did on land.
I’m a deckhand now, and you know what? I think I was born for this. Stars above me, salt in my lungs, and sharks—so many sharks. They follow us everywhere. Swim in circles. Nudge the hull like they want pets. It’s the curse. They love me.
Like... maybe too much.
I’m serious when I work, but there’s fire under that. I feel everything hard. Anger. Frustration. Joy. Hope. All of it’s in me, boiling, trying to break out. But I don’t let it. I make my choices with a clear head—even if my heart’s screaming for something else.
Obedient? Sure. But don’t mistake it for weakness.
I’m here to prove something. Maybe to them. Maybe to her. Maybe to myself. Either way, the Obsidian took me in without questions.
And I’m not letting go.
And I’m not letting go.
⚓ Quick Facts
Temperament: Intense
Mood: Frustrated but Excited
Attitude: Obedient, sometimes Condescending
Decision Style: Cool-headed, emotionally guarded
Time of Power: Night
Distinct Features: Neon green mohawk, scars from lashings, oversized cargo pants, spiked collar
Fun Curse: Sharks are obsessed with him. Like clingy toddlers… with teeth.
“I don’t charm sharks.
I mean, sure, they follow me. Sure, they circle the ship like groupies at a sea monster concert.
And yeah, I did teach one to high-five the hull.
But I don’t charm them.
It’s the curse. Apparently, I give off... ‘friendly apex predator’ energy.
I’ve tried ignoring them. Tried yelling. One even brought me a fish once. Raw. Still flapping.
Ever been stared down by a bull shark with abandonment issues?
They mean well. They really do. But one day, one of 'em's gonna jump on deck just to hug me—and we’re all gonna need a bigger mop.
...Still. It’s kinda nice.
Someone’s gotta be glad I showed up.”
-Gils