Captain of the Obsidian
Age: Unknown
Sailing Satisfaction: 5/10
The Obsidian’s Opinion of Me: She loves me. Whether I want her to or not.
Age: Unknown
Sailing Satisfaction: 5/10
The Obsidian’s Opinion of Me: She loves me. Whether I want her to or not.
Curse: She is the curse.
🪡 My Story
I didn’t choose to be made.
But here I am—stitched together, sealed with spite, and cursed with breath.
But here I am—stitched together, sealed with spite, and cursed with breath.
They call me Violet Voodoo, captain of the Obsidian. I didn’t ask for the title. The crew doesn’t even always treat me like I wear it. But when the wind howls and the sky cracks open, they listen. They obey.
Because the ship listens to me.
I’m a living voodoo doll—fabric turned flesh, soul turned thread. Blue skin, green stitches, hair like magenta flame that tangles on salt wind.
I wear purple to match the bruises of my past. A yellow sash to hold the weapons I shouldn’t still be able to throw.
Skulls? Well... they’re a comfort now.
I wear purple to match the bruises of my past. A yellow sash to hold the weapons I shouldn’t still be able to throw.
Skulls? Well... they’re a comfort now.
They say I’m cold. Aloof. Suspicious.
They’re not wrong.
When you’ve seen the strings behind people—the invisible pulls, the cruel hands—you stop giving out trust like it’s candy on deck.
They’re not wrong.
When you’ve seen the strings behind people—the invisible pulls, the cruel hands—you stop giving out trust like it’s candy on deck.
I speak rarely. Smile even less.
But I feel everything. Deep and tangled.
I just don’t show it. Not anymore.
But I feel everything. Deep and tangled.
I just don’t show it. Not anymore.
As for my so-called crime?
Cutlass juggling. Dangerous? Yes.
But precise. Beautiful. Deadly.
I wasn’t causing a ruckus.
I was dancing with blades because it was the only time I felt alive.
Cutlass juggling. Dangerous? Yes.
But precise. Beautiful. Deadly.
I wasn’t causing a ruckus.
I was dancing with blades because it was the only time I felt alive.
âš“ Quick Facts
Temperament: Stoic, Intense
Mood: Melancholy
Attitude: Suspicious, Condescending, Aloof
Decision Style: Heart-led, buried beneath cold reason
Time of Power: Morning
Appearance: Blue skin, green thread seams, magenta hair, purple outfit with skull-detailed yellow sash
Pirate Crime: Cutlass Juggling – practicing dangerous tricks in public and causing panic
Years with the Obsidian: Unclear. Feels... eternal.
“I remember what it felt like to have skin.
Warmth. Bruises. A pulse that skipped when I ran too fast.
Warmth. Bruises. A pulse that skipped when I ran too fast.
I remember laughter—real laughter. Not the kind that echoes in hollow cotton.
I gave it up.
Not for power. Not for glory.
For survival.
For survival.
The sea was going to take everything. The crew. The ship. Me.
So I made a deal. With something deep. Something that doesn’t blink. Doesn’t forget.
It offered me a second life. Stitched. Bound. Eternal.
I said yes.
And now I creak when I move. My voice sounds like it’s coming through thread. My hands don’t shake, even when I want them to.
They look at me like I’m a relic. Something haunting the deck instead of commanding it.
But the Obsidian… she knows.
She remembers the deal too.
She remembers the deal too.
She doesn’t flinch when I fall silent. Doesn’t ask when I stare too long at the horizon like it might give me back my face.
I’m not what I was.
But I am still here.
But I am still here.
And as long as the ship sails, so will I.”
-Captain Violet