I ripped out my heart: I buried it in the apple orchard of my youth. I stood knee-high in its small grave, tasting blood and lemonade, and whispered ‘wait for me, my love, my heart; I will return to you at sunset, when the birds cry and the blossoms are sweet!’ (Falsehoods fell freely, and we both knew it. My soul had long since run dry, the well in my stomach empty.) But alas: When you are made into violence, bones ripped out and replaced with war, fiery in your veins and hymns of destruction heavy on your tongue, there is no place for anything beautiful.
They moulded me into violence, into something, into nothing. Bones are ash and rust, and I love them for it. They made me into unholiness, ripping my halo away, crushing it — I said thank you. I had no need for it: What needs is there for a God who sends a child to war? I sang his praises with a bloodied mouth as I was led to this slaughterhouse, and he turned his back on me. (If it could, the dry pond in my chest would ache.)
They were all gnashing teeth and screaming voices, and it was alright. I learned, I learned, and there are now corpses in piles and mounds. There was never a reprieve, never will be: Now there are just fewer tears then when I as learning this macabre dance. I do not long for a heart, for it surely would only be slaughtered! Corpses rise in number, the dead are walking (silently, they scream) but I remain. (What does lemonade taste like? Oh, like my childhood: Bittersweet and gone too fast.)
One child for sale, hole for a heart and soulless! Battleground in a body, corpse-riddled — one child for sale! I am constantly at war, and no one wants me. The battle is over, but my wolf-teeth long for more! A repaired halo (still cracked and bleeding) is shoved between them, but I choke on it as I scream. (How do you whisper, how do you step gently, when all you know is marching and screaming?)
My heart was buried in the apple orchard of my youth, its grave shallow and unmarked. I cannot return for it: There is no space in my chest any longer. Mourn, oh my heart, for a child lost to a nameless war.
–– –– i still miss the quiet summer days (CNS)
original character. main blog. independent. private.
Original Character Blog.
Private: strictly interacts with mutual follows.
Hopefully that big ol’, “Original Character” blast up there was enough for you to know what this blog is – an Original Character. To get things right off the bat, this is my brain-baby. Theft of any sort from this blog is not tolerated, and don’t try spoon-feeding me that, ‘Oh but you just inspire me so much, Cath!’ bullshit ‘cause it’s theft and we all know it. There’s a difference between inspiration and stealing.
Kālĭnn is from an Empire rather like Mesopotamia, so it’s OLD. Old. The majority of the rest of the world within her canon resides is similarly Antediluvian; however, you will notice that she takes on the traits of many Mediæval Knights. No this was not a mistake, yes it is done on purpose. The best thing to keep in mind if you have any thought of interacting with Kālĭnn is that she is culturally displaced, MUTE, and is so stoic and calm in reaction to everything that it’s asinine.
☑ BLOOD, GORE, VIOLENCE.
☑ LANGUAGE, PROFANITY.
☑ ‘DARK’ THEMES.
☑ SENSITIVE MATERIAL.
☒ MAGIC ANONS.
☒ SEX, SMUT.
☒ ASKS PERTAINING TO SHIPPING/RELATIONSHIPS.
☒ GODMODDING, META-GAMING.
☒ HATE OF ANY VARIETY.
All of this is rather self-explanatory. Due to the nature of the muse, the themes dealt with inside my canon, and with a plethora of muses with whom I interact, content will include but are not limited to: blood, violence, and language. I don’t tag most ‘slurs’ unless they are ones I decide not to use myself, or am asked to tag. In which case, I probably wouldn’t use the word anyway. I do not tag gore in my posts unless it’s an image. I do not tag blood in my posts unless it is an image, nor do I tag weapons or anything of the like. Magic Anons have been used to insult the integrity of my character and myself as a person numerous times, and thus I’d like to not receive them; while sex jokes and talking about sex is fine, actually seeing sex or anything of the visual nature induces anxiety attacks for me due to reasons I am NOT obligated to share, and as such I will not write smut, and I ask that all sexual images be tagged. Everything else on the “don’t” check-list is due to personal preference – oh, and I’ll laugh at anon hate and delete it on sight.
Kālĭnn isn’t exactly romance friendly, if you hadn’t guessed. She’s resolute, stuck in her ways, waiting to die, and expends herself on people like you won’t believe. While open to friendships, romances are another thing entire, and she is single ship, ergo, I already have a ship parner and I don’t plan on changing this any time soon. If you wanna brOTP with her, be my guest! I mean, look at her borderline “something deeper” brOTP with Greed. It’s possible to become her friend, anyone could easily be her friend because she does not hold grudges ( except against herself ) so really, there’s always room for something, just hit me up with an idea.
Chances are that if you’re seeing artwork on this blog, it does not belong to me. In fact, I keep a log of art credits on this very page. However, I do make edits and I take credit for the work that I have done that way, whether it be icons or banners or other miscellaneous graphics, they are mine, and taking from me is not tolerated because you do not know if I had the artist’s permission, and if you take from me, you definitely do not. Be smart.
The coding is mine. I made the code for this baby. I already released my code to the public, I’m sure you can find it on my personal somewhere ( my personal’s the credit link ), so honestly have away at it. I won’t answer coding questions unless it’s off anon, on my personal, or from a close friend. Sorry. I’m not that amazing at coding either.
ART CREDITS
Dashboard Icon: Era One – Concept 8 by Simon Goinard on ArtStation.
Dash Banner: Goddess of Victory by EVentrue on DeviantART.
Theme Art: I’m currently still hunting down the source, but it looks like the source was deleted. If anyone knows, lemme know? I wanna put their credit up.
Icon Art: Mostly by Norihiro Yagi, from their manga Claymore.
All other icon art will be sourced here as well.
Graphic Maker: The ever-wonderful Stevie! A big hand to her genius~
| BITCHSTICKS | WAFFLENUGGS |
| BITCHSTICKS | WAFFLENUGGS |
Name: Kālĭnn. ( Kay — lynn. )
Alias(es): None. However, has accrued the moniker ❛Iron Talon❜ in certain regions.
Age: Twenty-Eight. ( By Earth standards. Perceives self as being Twenty-Two Cycles of age. )
Hair Colour: Mahogany. ( A deep, rich brunette with flame-hued highlights and deep red colour whenever light hits it; could easily perceived as dark brown unless her hair is highlighted by light. )
Hair Length: Typically maintained within multiple braids, with her ( collar bone length ) bangs being braided and kept pinned on the top of her head so that her eyesight is not obscured; the rest of her hair, when braided, is approximately level with the small of her back.
Eye Colour: A very lackluster hazel that appears to be grey rather than its true colour.
Complexion: Dark, a very rich and deep tan.
Sex: Female.
Gender: Female.
Nationality: Akkadian.
Height: 1.85 metres ( 6 feet, 1 inch. )
Weight: 84 kilograms ( 185 pounds. ) However, when she is wearing full armour, she weighs roughly 157 kilograms, or 346 pounds.
Body Build: Lean, robust and rippling sinew beneath layers of metal armaments, she is fit and athletic, and with no lack for muscle. Powerful and domineering physically, she has well-built hips and a graceful figure. Lean for lack of body fat ( by lack of proper eating habits and the frequency of the arduous and physically demanding tasks she indulges in ) but for no lack of muscle. She is extremely-well built. Could crush a man's head with her thighs.
Physical Marks: A running from the bottom of her right ear across her cheek and over the bridge of her nose. It is wide and discoloured, the wound being more aesthetic than debilitating, however. Another scar trails from her left hip up across her back, cutting clean over the spine and around her right shoulder blade only to peak in severity at her right shoulder where the blade which has split her so had bit fiercely. ( Please note for all threads which are to take place post!Molymnias arc: At Molymnias, Kālĭnn's left eye is flogged out of socket. In addition to the re-opening of her facial scar, her lip becomes cleft and heals awkwardly so that she seems almost to sneer perpetually. )
Romantic Orientation: Demiromantic.
Sexual Orientation: Pansexual.
Marital Status: Single. ( However, taken heart & soul. )
Zodiac: Scorpio.
Chinese Zodiac: Tiger. ( Element of fire. )
MBTI: ISTJ. ( Introverted Sensing Thinking Judging. )
MBTI Variant: Assertive.
MBTI Role: Sentinel.
Enneagram: 9w1 SO/SP.
Temperament: Choleric.
Element: Fire.
Rank: Hired soldier. ( Mercenary; wayfaring Warrior. )
Weapons: Seeming to be a most ordinary broadsword, Kālĭnn's preferred weapon is realtively unextraordinary at first glance, for it is neither gilded nor engraved with filigrees, and bears no crest or crust of jewels; the blade itself is modled after those of her homeland: wide, straight, and tapering towards the end into a rounded rounded ( yet lethal ) tip, and modified with the superior craftsmanship of an Akkadian blacksmith so that the metal is flexible yet retains its shape, aborbs shock through its core so as not to dull the edge or jeopardize the blade's wholeness. Make no mistake; it is a weapon of war and has slain many, and the blood of hundreds stains its guard crimson. As nameless as its master is to those she encounters, it is the most notable thing aside from her armour which is also modified after that of her homeland, as per her explicit request and exhaustive funding. Aside from that, she's several knives which she keeps stowed away, of similar craftsmanship ( though not so durable ), and, on occasion, she may weild a long-bow of exceptional height and draw-weight. However, her bow is nigh explicit in its use for hunting; she's yet to use it to loose an arrow into human flesh.