Quite a powerful name for someone whose older brother is named Dwarf. In Greek Mythology, Persephone is the Queen of the Dead, the Underworld, and springtime. She tries to ignore the last part.

NAME: Persephone Neon-Beard

AGE: 23

GENDER: Female

SPECIES: Human

SEXUALITY: Pansexual

BIRTHPLACE: Space-Shanty

CURRENT RESIDENCE: Space-Shanty, though specifically, it's her ship, The Chalice

PERSONALITY:

She is as chaotic as the waves on Earth, always changing. She can be soft as the waves babies splash in, caressing the sand and uprooting shells for people to find, or as destructive as the tsunamis ravaging the East, cutting down anyone too slow to escape her wrath.

Persephone always keeps up her appearance. Always. Glittering rings, fancy clothes, and dolled-up hair are necessary for her everyday life. The words escaping her mouth are lavish and honey-dipped, but it makes her all the more terrifying when she carries out her threats. She sounds and acts more like royalty than a pirate, but she is a pirate princess. It may make her seem snobby to speak and dress the way she does, but why shouldn't she treat herself? She doesn't have the magic items others may possess, but she does have riches.

Every day is a date with discord, but she brings order, well, a pirate's version of order, to the scene. She tells people to swab the deck, to prepare the course for the nearest source of treasure, and to walk the plank to deep space. She deals with traitors as enemies, not former crew members, so beware if you ever seek to start a mutiny. Persephone has eyes everywhere on Space-Shanty, but doesn't care much about any place but possible targets, like Beaut. She's a leader, so expect her to act like one as long as someone's looking.

When there aren't eyes on her, she wants nothing more than to laugh and explore. Persephone is sarcastic and witty and impatient, a lover of wisecracks with a short fuse. She has an eye for the finer things in life, like a princess, but, unless you're confident you are part of her closest social circle, never say anything like that- unless, of course, you want death to creep down the back of your neck. She doesn't forgive and she never forgets. If you fall out of her good graces, you'll have to crawl your way back out of the hole you dug.

Despite it, she truly cares about her crew. She doesn't realize how loved she makes herself to them, but she understands their respect and fear. Persephone does not blame her younger siblings for wanting the crown like she does. It must be in their blood- well, aside from Dwarf's. She wants the best of them to win, but she believes she is the rightful heir to her father's legacy.

APPEARANCE/CLOTHING:

Her skin is soft and smooth and dark, but her hands are calloused from years of training, her palms pale. Her teeth are a bright white, her canines filed to sharp points. Her eyes were originally a dark onyx, but they are now a deep sapphire blue. She holds her head higher than a princess, but looks others dead in the eye, even enemies, without looking down her nose. She couldn't possibly claim to be the tallest person in the galaxy, but at 5'8", she stands taller than even some males. Her eyelids are streaked with whatever color matches her rings that day.

Flowing blouses and tailcoats hang from the gallows of her closet beside the ghost of a sparkling navy dress she'll never wear. Leather boots, gun belts, and sword sheaths rest along her worn wooden shelves. Bullets litter a small box in the corner like broken hulls in an asteroid belt. Deep blue hair swells and crests at the top of her head in a mohawk braid. It swirls and spirals down her part and churns into a bun. Long hair is a liability. She keeps it tied lest she wants to lose it. Then again, who would dare to touch her? The jewels adorning the pin on her head should be enough to signal her status.

If not, one only needs to look at her fingers. Or, rather, where her fingers should be. Gems of many colors can be found resting in rings on her hand. Gold rings, black rings, rose gold rings, brass rings, platinum rings, and copper rings are all trinkets in her treasure trove, but silver or iron jewelry, for the sake of any crew members susceptible to the metals, never find their way there.

Don't mistake her consideration for others as weakness or it will be your last mistake. Needless to say, she always has her pirate tags. The sword sheathed at her waist once belonged to the admiral of a Navy fleet. It can turn into a necklace, but she prefers to leave it at her side for the aesthetic. Her bracer lets loose a shield with an edge sharp enough to cut. In the holsters snug against her thighs rest pistols once stained with the blood of those who would dare to attack her ship, which means, yes, she did capture them first. She is as ruthless as the serrated knives in her boots.

*ENHANCEMENTS:

Her eyes are a deep blue, like her hair. Of course, she also has to have the signature Neon-Beard glow. One eye allows her to see vast distances like a monocular would, but the other lets her see at night and in dark places. So, she wears an eyepatch to rest one eye or the other when need be. Using the special ability of her monoscopic eye forces her to forgo her awareness of her surroundings. She'll have a more difficult time hearing others around her and feeling her feet on the ground. Oftentimes, she'll have her hand on a wall or window or railing to steady herself. Her night vision eye is extremely sensitive to light. Someone shining a flashlight directly in her eye can render her temporarily blind. She won't be able to hear someone's footsteps as well as she normally would while she's using it, so she'll close her eye every once in a while to try to hear. Also, she can't smell when she uses her night vision eye, like, at all. A skunk could spray in the room and she'd be none the wiser.

*WEAPONS (TOOLS): The sword sheathed at her waist once belonged to the admiral of a Navy fleet. It can turn into a necklace, but she prefers to leave it at her side for the aesthetic. She has updated it with a neon edge and a fancy hilt and pommel, however. Her bracer lets loose a glowing shield with an edge sharp enough to cut. In the holsters snug against her thighs rest gleaming pistols.

FUN FACTS: She loves blacklight and cupcakes. She's never had a birthday party that didn't end up with people drunk and vomiting everywhere. She's never been on a vacation where she didn't pillage a place. She actually doesn't like beer, but stomachs it so she's not seen as weird.

FEARS: Losing Space-Shanty, being mocked, not creating a legacy as big as her father's, becoming addicted to anything, not being respected and feared at the same time

GOALS:

She wants to rule Space-Shanty like her father did, even alongside one of her siblings if she has to.

If that plan fails, she wants to explore the far reaches of the universe, maybe even find where her old man is hiding out. Surely, she believes, it has to be some sort of test to figure out who should take over after he's gone. There's no way he could be dead.

HISTORY:

Persephone was raised to hold fear more valuable than love and to never trust those with greed glimmering in their eye. She has done everything asked of her since she was little and more. While her older brother never took being a pirate seriously, she took every opportunity to expand her riches. So, when he found his prized gun, you bet she was jealous. She only snapped out of it when he was carted away to prison because of a shot-gone-wrong. Those four years were when she really began to shine.

Persephone left more and more for plundering and riches, but never for downtime. Except for in Beaut. There, she has the chance to eye the palace gardens from afar and survey the foods of the local culture. Beaut is a beaut and she wants to find everything it has to offer.

She was with the pirates when they conquered Beaut. Persephone was put in charge of figuring out how to get into the castle. It drives her nuts, but she knows there's no way to get in there. The royals want one thing untouched and they're going to keep it that way. So, really, it's her fault those who broke in ended up where they did.

She doesn't regret it, not yet. It was better she knew than to try to go in there herself. Of course, one can only dream of what they'll find in the homes of real royalty.

FREQUENT DREAMS:

She's on Beaut, in the palace, imagining it in all its grandeur. Spas, pools, Roman baths, lavish bedrooms, the finest meals on the most expensive china. Everything is soft and gorgeous, but one thing remains strong. Wine, which she secretly loves so much more than beer or any ale, fills the cellars and her faceted crystal glass with a robust flavor and rich color, though it is occasionally white. The attendant to the cellar, a fine winemaker dressed in a wine-hued tux, tells her the origins of the beverage, of places she's never known, and of the palaces some were raided from. It seems to last forever, and she relishes every sip.

She's sailing along the coast of a land she doesn't know. The galleon rests at the shore alongside a waterfall and she looks up at the sheer cliffs. She realizes her ship has flown on its own, and no one is with her to share her discovery. So, she runs, she climbs, she laughs. She delves into caves, into waterfalls, and into the sea. Persephone discovers an underground palace filled with marble floors and riches galore. She decides to stay in her new place for a while. She names it Calypso and is waited on by invisible servants, lounging in the throne of an empire once lost, but found by her.

FREQUENT/SCARIEST NIGHTMARES:

She's in the gardens of the palace on Beaut, running away from shadows on the ground. Any flower she brushes against shrivels and falls as ash. She sees the demon prince just before the gate, but, for once, he's not awkward. He raises a hand, and she falls through the ground, trapped in the Underworld like her namesake.

The East, the West, the royals, the colonies– they're attacking Space-Shanty. Demons are kidnapping people in the streets, filling their minds with lust before their blood stains their own bedsheets. The light becomes dark as shrinking force fields close in on her fellow pirates, until their bones break and they crush one other. There are reports from the North, but she can see it happening with her own eyes. Nuclear bombs are clouding the skies. The ship changes position and she can see what she's been dreading. Armies raze the Southern side of the planet and shoot anyone who stands. The ship rocks as they take heavy fire. She can hear her shipmates fighting in the galley, her first mate screaming out in pain. All of the madness occurs while she's frozen in front of an oblong window. It's situated along the side of the hull (and shouldn't be there at all). She's held in place by either a spell or chains, maybe both to add insult to injury. She can't blink, she can't turn away, and, even worse, she can't help them, the people who call Space-Shanty their home. Just when she can't take it anymore, a voice purrs in her ear, sometimes male, sometimes female, always silky. It's someone she has never known, but wants to stab, to shoot, to do anything but listen to them. "Don't fret, my darling," the cold flat of a smooth blade raises her head higher, exposing her neck. "You don't have to see anything more." The intruder slits her throat. Her vision darkens and she falls, always waking up before her body hits the floor. Then, she realizes, it's Grog Day. It always occurs the day before Grog Day, the celebration of Sea-Shanty's liberation, but only since Neon-Beard's gone missing, or, as she likes to think, gone fishing.