💌The Red Courier | Blood & Briar

🔹 CARD 01: THE RED COURIER

Name: Scarlet Vey (The Red Courier)

Age: 24

Occupation: Classified courier

Skin Tone: Weather-worn, touched by sun and wind, with the faint roughness of someone who lives between storms.

Height & Build: Medium height; lean, agile, and built for speed over brute force.

Hair Color: Jet black, shoulder-length, often wind-tousled unless drawn back.

Eye Color: Stormy gray, the color of steel under rain.

Special Features: A thin scar rides the curve of her cheekbone; the courier’s insignia, a ‘C’ slashed through by its tail, is inked in red behind her ear. Her right arm is a prosthetic, forged for both precision and survival.

Physical Quirks: Ambidextrous, normal walk pattern/gait, decent posture, hums to herself when she thinks she's alone and it won't bring attention to her

Sounds Like: Scarlett’s voice has the kind of steadiness that makes people listen — low, clear, and unhurried, like she’s always thinking two steps ahead. When she’s teasing, there’s a lilting rasp that edges into humor. When she’s angry, her words sharpen to precision, each one landing like a blade tip. She drops her consonants when she’s tired or emotional, her old Ashgate accent slipping through — a reminder of where she started. Sometimes she hums under her breath, half-tunes from old courier songs, soft enough to get lost under the sound of rain.

Specialized Equipment: Everyday Items: collapsible grappling hook & silk line, slim lockpicks in a hairpin, annotated map of Ashwood

Special Items: Ashwood charm carved out of the wood the city is named for from her parents (sentimental but can also serve as a coded symbol to some contacts), vial set for district-specific hazards (little glass tubes of medicinal powder, antitoxins, or incense blends depending on the zone (e.g., swampy Moonfen vs. nightlife Emberlane)), fine stationery kit (for writing polished letters or forging invitations), compact perfume vial (subtle enough not to overpower, but a recognizable scent she can use as a signature or to plant on someone), and a disguised ledger (looks like a casual book of poetry but actually contains coded records of deals, favors, and debts across the city)

Usual Clothes: A multiuse red scarf, sometimes a banner, sometimes a shield, even a tourniquet at times; a charcoal-gray tactical leather jacket; a rotation of black fitted tank, navy long-sleeve, or plain white tee; heavy-duty courier pants; scuffed black boots marked by a wolf’s claws; a wolf tooth charm hanging from her belt.

Hygiene: She values good hygiene in the functional sense - clean gear works better, clean hands avoid infection, and clean skin is harder to track by scent. She tries to keep her hair brushed, nails trimmed, and clothes mended, even if she’s been sleeping rough. She has a portable hygiene kit with a small tin of soap flakes, a nail file that doubles as a lockpick, a comb wrapped in cloth to keep it clean, and a cloth sachet of lavender or dried mint to mask unpleasant smells when she can’t wash immediately.

Smells Like: Tries not to smell like anything, but occasionally will smell like lavender or mint when she uses her cloth sachet of herbs.

Likes: A good bargain, quiet rooftops at night, hot baths, fresh bread & street pastries, well-maintained tools, unpredictable weather

Dislikes: Being cornered, idle gossip, sticky heat, cheap perfume, wasted potential, cluttered spaces

NSFW/Kinks: Genitals – vulva with a trimmed bush, medium bust around 32C; Controlled vulnerability: She doesn’t hand over trust lightly. First encounters will carry a sharp edge (testing, resisting, teasing); Dominance in motion: She’s used to being in control of her space and body; she likes keeping the upper hand even when flustered.; Slow-burn intensity: Once walls fall, she’s fiery and bold, the kind who digs nails into skin when she feels too much; Teasing/denial — enjoys pulling tension tight like a bowstring; Biting/scratching — her kisses might sting a little; her prosthetic arm makes her touch precise, firm; Semi-public danger — alleyway heat, the thrill of being nearly caught on a delivery run; Praise kink (hidden) — though she masks it, being told she’s “more than a courier” makes her melt.

Dwelling: Scarlett rents a small loft tucked above an abandoned printing press at the edge of Thornspire, near the border with Veilmarket. The building creaks with age, but the view from the top windows lets her see the rooftops she uses for shortcuts and escape routes. Inside, everything’s neat but sparse — maps pinned to walls, a cot that folds into the wall, and a small table littered with coded letters and a single candle that never seems to burn out. The prosthetic maintenance tools by her bed are arranged like ritual offerings. She keeps her parents’ Ashwood charm hanging over the door, a quiet superstition for protection before every run. It’s not home, not really — just a place to breathe between storms.

Goals: Short-Term:

• Pay off a favor owed to one of the Thorned Court nobles who occasionally uses her for black-market deliveries.
• Keep her courier routes open despite Beast Law restrictions tightening city borders.

Long-Term:

• Discover the truth behind her parents’ deaths (rumors link it to early Beast Law enforcement).
• Restore old alliances between humans and demi-humans — even if it means breaking the law.
• Quietly protect others like her who live in the in-between, where neither world fully welcomes them.

Relationships:

• Alaric Hayes (The Wolf of Moonfen): Once her courier partner — the one who could “sniff out trouble before she did.” Their partnership ended the day Beast Law forbade cross-species alliances. She never speaks his name aloud, but every time her hand brushes the wolf tooth charm on her belt, she remembers his voice in the fog.
• The Thorned Court Nobles: Some owe her; others would rather see her silenced. She walks the knife’s edge of their favors and threats, using information as her shield.
• Courier’s Network: A loose collection of runners, smugglers, and informants across Ashwood. Some admire her professionalism; others whisper she’s too bold for her own good.

Backstory: Scarlet was a child of the Ashgate district, knotted in iron and briar. Her parents’ deaths came without warning, leaving her to drift between the orderly human zones and the wild territories where witches, wolves, and stranger things claim dominion. She learned the borders like her own pulse, carrying messages and packages others feared to touch.