#anyway the paragraphs above are not only about him potentially liking more than 1 gender but. as IM pansexual and aspec and nonbinary. yeah

[glubandeepspace]

Rafayel is not queer coded because he has (supposedly) feminine aspects to his demeanor and personality and face, he's queer coded (to my burdeningly biggest bulging noggin) (and/or at least a good allegory for queer people or ig certain other minorities i don't know enough about to go on as much about) for having always been about breaking free (or trying) of rigid boundaries and passionately exploring the new even if it's forbidden (the sea's surface, land, the red of the blood of his beloved people mixed in the sea, MC)

one of few who's faced identity-centric pressures even higher than most already do (as a born god whose red strings of fate and love were meant to become puppet strings for a "follower" he once thought would simply be a bride)

and he's disliked the shallowness of humanity even when he's been forced to assimilate and after he's gone through such lengths to understand it in theory

and, you know, sea creatures have a higher tendency to be fluid (badumtss) about "gender", or even when some have binary-centric roles it can be in a way dissimilar to most humans', and queer people of all sorts have always been mistaken as inhuman and monstrous

and Lemuria is literally described as a place more centric on love and freedom

and he accepts change, but would never truly change only for others, as even with a few facades he is overall all about authenticity even with the sometimes smallest things (paint, loving MC not just because of the lost history but the present he does acknowledge as more important) even whenever it's more inconvenient or downright dangerous or makes others have trouble liking him.

[southparkgodfather]

back at it again

1) Mun information: Name/Nickname: Shan Preferred pronouns: She/her Age: 15 Timezone: UTC

2) Muse information: Name: Wendy Testaburger Mob Alias: Black Widow Age: 19 Birthday: December 18th Height: 5'6 Mafia: La Cosa Nostra Appearance: Wendy usually wears her casual ‘Flapper’ attire - consisting of a dress that ends mid-thigh. From it, hangs many different and individual strings, all of which move in the same direction she walks. The garment is a dark purple in colour, the strings being black. It ends around her chest area, only the spaghetti-string straps keeping it so far up. Around the collar is a golden plate, all sorts of pearls and diamonds embedding into it. A pair of long, black silk gloves are worn, usually ending just above her elbow, a bracelet is worn over one on either arm. A feather boa of the same colour hangs loosely from her arms, acting as something similar to a shawl. A pair of long diamond earrings barely brush against her shoulders, matching her accompanying jewellery. Those familiar ebony locks are styled back into either a side-bun, or alternatively left to cascade effortlessly down the curve of her back. Atop them, a headband lays, a singular feather sticking out from the top. Her legs are left bare, only being covered by the single black garter that barely pokes out from underneath her dress, attached to it being a small holster - fit for any small weapon. Usually wears a pair of snazzy high heels, something dark in colour.

Occupation: Bait Girl (?)/Mercenary - Flappers are known for their disregard for social norms and usual gender roles by wearing excessive makeup, drinking, smoking, driving automobiles, and otherwise flouting social and sexual norms. Wendy, having no respect for the strict rules society had set up for her and her fellow women to live by, chose to join the movement that would shock the surrounding area. People are usually captivated by her uncaring nature, it entrancing them to no end. Taking this on board, Wendy uses their fascination against them by using her abilities to manipulate others into doing whatever it is needed by La Cosa Nostra, whether that be roping them into drug trades, alcohol bootlegging rings, or merely assassinating someone who proved to be a potential threat to her family.

Backstory: From a young age, Wendy never usually agreed with the fact that there was a thick border between the roles of a man in society, and that of a woman. She never really understood it. Having being raised in a strict mafia-riddled household, she was always brought up to be feminine and polite - the simple characteristics of the perfect female. This aggravated her. She could do anything a guy could do. Hell, she could lead her own mob! As times passed by, she was slowly introduced to the world of women who felt the same discrimination she did. This movement had its origins in the liberal period of the Roaring Twenties the social, political turbulence and increased transatlantic cultural exchange that followed the end of World War I. People had a similar mindset to her own, and slowly, the young girl adapted the Flapper lifestyle into her own, except less of the sexuality issues for her own personal preferences. At first, her father was furious. But, after some consultations with his fellow Mafia members, Wendy was deemed useful. She was strong, independent and still had that prominent femininity within her personality. It was a perfect balance between the two. And thus, Wendy “The Black Widow” Testaburger was born.

3) At least 5 headcanons about your muse:

- Carries around a thin pipe for decoration, would never truly smoke from it unless it was deemed necessary or she was overcome with stress. - The apple of her father’s eye. She usually reports back to him with either cash or reports on what she had achieved in her last mission. He rewards her with her own cut of the profit. - Usually carries around a tiny pistol within the holster around her thigh, sometimes a knife on more private occasions with a victim. - Her life has revolved around murder and crime, so she never really got to live a normal childhood. Despite this, she still carries an advanced intelligence and still makes time to focus on her studies when she isn’t on duty. - Very opinionated. Isn’t scared of the other Mafia members, and /will/ tell you if you’re being stupid without shame. - A perfectionist. Don’t expect Wendy to do a half-assed job. She will plan a perfect murder. - Destined to take over her father’s title one day, so she is set on proving herself capable.

4) Sample Paragraph, give at least 1-2 paragraphs that showcase your roleplaying, the only limit is your creativity:

The bar was clearing out now, drunks stumbling around aimlessly while yelling an array of nonsense. That, combined with the blaring jazz music that resonated throughout the joint, proved to be terribly loud. But, it was Friday night. An excuse to have fun, right? Not for Wendy. Her work never had a set schedule, she only had to act when she was called upon. Not like it bothered her, though. It wast hard, especially her current mission. Murders were usually simple, they never involved the extra work of having to manipulate /and/ trick someone into doing your dirty work. Plus, I mean, who wants to spend all night chasing after some lousy bum? She had her own life, too.

Standing in the corner of the bar, those icily coloured orbs scanned over the remaining crowd. She blinked, narrowing her eyes as she searched for her next victim. He was to be here tonight, surely. The reports given to her said so, and they had yet to let her down.

There he was, sitting over the bar with a woman on either arm. The raven scoffed, honestly disgusted at how someone could belittle themselves, especially that of a decent looking female. The man was prestigious, a well-known name throughout the community. He had it all, money, women, looks, cars, you name it. And he proved to be a serious threat to La Cosa Nostra.

Clearing her throat, Wendy took a seat on the opposing stool beside him, staring ahead at the drinks stocked behind the bar. Her hand rose to her lips, placing the pipe between it. She inhaled before retracting it, the smoke still in her mouth. “What’s a pretty lady like you doin’ all here alone, huh?” The man turned to her with a grin, gaze trailing up and down her figure hungrily. It was almost impossible to hold back the gag. What a sleaze bag. The two other women proved to be drunk off their asses, so they didn’t really give a shit that their beloved was talking to some other girl. But, unlike them, Wendy had class.

Turning, the young Testaburger looks at him, one leg crossing over the other. Her head falls, resting on the hand that had propped itself up against the wood. She exhaled, blowing a cloud of smoke into the man’s face. “I can come here and not have to leave on your arm.” Play it casual. Be yourself. That’s what gets them going the most. And so, she continued, shooting witty comments and intelligent replies in his direction. By the end of the night, he looked at her in awe.

The bar was empty now, only a few workers and stray drinkers left lingering around. Wendy and this male still sat at the top though, both laughing and cracking jokes as if they had known eachother a lifetime. She had to make them feel comfortable, thinking that she is far from a threat. Her hand is grabbed, and she is gently pulled from her seat. Her future victim clings onto her clothed digits loosely, quietly guiding her to the bathrooms. Of course, what else could someone like him want other than sex?

Wendy reached down, pulling up her skirt so that her holster was easily accessible. Grabbing the handle, she whips out a small dagger, flipping it open. The door closes behind the two as they’re squeezed into a tight bathroom stall, the light chatter and music was drowned out by the groans of pain emitting from the man, him clutching at his abdomen. His white suit soon turned a dark crimson as blood soaked into it. Wendy twists the knife that was inserted before pulling it up to his chest, slicing the skin deeply. He gasps, falling back against the wall for leverage. He slides down it, blood being smeared down the tiles as he falls into a sitting position on the toilet. The girl tears out her knife and shakes the remaining fluids from it. We couldn’t have it rust now, could we?

Those bright eyes stared down at the lifeless body in boredom. “Heh, wise guy.” This wasn’t anything new, just another death to add to the never ending list. If her calculations were correct, there should be a car outside waiting for her, judging by the time, anyways. It would take both her and the corpse to a disclosed location where she could fully rid of its remains.

Who knows what the newspaper headlines would say tomorrow? They’ll never know when The Black Widow may strike.

Accepted.