🇴‌🇴‌🇨‌ 🇩‌🇮‌🇸‌🇨‌🇱‌🇦‌🇮‌🇲‌🇪‌🇷‌:

This is intended to be a role play account.
A majority of interactions will be in character.
Any interactions played out in character will
be considered as a canon part of Asher's story.

Asher and I are not one in the same. Please
do not confuse the two.

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞: Asher Vale
𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞: Ash
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫: Male
𝐒𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲: Pansexual
𝐀𝐠𝐞: Unknown
𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐬: Devil

𝐁𝐢𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐲:
Long before he bore the name Asher, he walked
the world as William Godwin, heir to a merchant
dynasty drenched in silk and silver. Born between
the dying breaths of the Middle Ages and the cruel
dawn of the Renaissance, he was carved from
privilege- golden coin in one hand, a goblet of sin
in the other.

A charmer. A dealmaker. A boy born with the world
already half-bought.

William trafficked in the rare and the forbidden,
sailing across storm-bitten waters to bring back
relics and riches. He drank deep from the chalice
of life- wine, women, and the roar of laughter
echoing through candlelit halls. But such joy is never
more than borrowed. The Black Plague came like a
whisper in the dark- and what it didn’t devour outright,
it hollowed out slowly.

His clients died coughing in their silks. And then...

Genevieve. His twin. His mirror. The best of him.

He watched the light drain from her eyes one twitch at a
time, powerless. Helpless. Useless. And when their father’s
flesh began to rot, the boy who once bartered gems and
spices now begged for miracles, clawing through scrolls,
bones, and dead men’s secrets for a cure that did not exist.

Until he found the island.

Uncharted. Unnamed. A whisper on a drunken
cartographer’s lips.

There, among gnarled trees and skies that wept black rain, he
found it. A creature carved from shadow and teeth, wearing a
shape almost human, and a smile far too wide. It spoke like a
poet. It bargained like a god. And William, broken and bleeding
with grief, gave it everything it asked.

His soul. His name. His bloodline.

In return, the creature breathed life back into Genevieve,
cured his father, and bathed his household in gold once
more. But the price was not so simple, nor so swift.

For centuries, William Godwin endured torment beneath
the earth- skin peeled, mind flayed, identity stripped- until
only Asher remained: a Devil not born, but forged. A weapon
in service to the ancient, smiling god who broke him.

Now, in the bowels of the modern world, Asher walks unseen,
hunting whispers, exorcising truths buried under centuries of
lies. Each step he takes is a rebellion wrapped in servitude, a
curse in search of meaning.

And deep in the marrow of his being, one question burns:

What became of Genevieve after the devil's kiss?

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧