Name: Ava Weaver
Resistance Codename: Silk
Birthday: Vortas, 36 2695
FC: Morena Baccarin
Place of Origin: ORH, Anaxas
Current Location: Vienda, Anaxas
Player Name: moralhazard
Ava has shoulder-length thick, curly dark hair, large dark eyes, full lips and a square face with a strong jaw. She is slightly below the average height for an Anaxi human woman, approximately 5’5”. She has a richly feminine shape, soft and rounded without yielding to plumpness. Her skin is more olive than pale. Unlike many other humans, Ava has soft, smooth skin, with few calluses on her hands; her nails are neat, buffed and rounded. She has no major scars, no lasting remnants of external injury visible anywhere on her body.
Ava is well-aware of the styles and colors that flatter her, and never hesitates to dress to her own advantage. While working in her shop, she generally wears simpler clothing – greens, browns and tan colors, often her own fabrics, and is rarely found without skillfully applied make up. She has a fondness for silk, although she can’t afford it now; although she rarely wears them anymore, she is very comfortable in galdor fashions and jewel tones, with particular fondness for pale pinks and dark reds.
Ava is performatively feminine. She tends towards soft smiles, lingering looks, and graceful movements of the hands, and a polite, pleasing tone which sounds agreeable even when she disagrees with you. Beneath flawless social skills and fluttering eyelashes, however, lurks a quick and keen mind. Ava is well-aware of those around her, both what’s said and unsaid in their words and gestures and is happy to use that information to her advantage (or to the resistance’s). She is a tough haggler and a shrewd businesswoman, but those she deals with rarely think of her as such; she has a knack for making others feel they have done her a favor with whatever concessions they grant.
To some extent, her public face is an act; Ava is well-aware that men and women both tend to underestimate her, and minds not in the slightest. On the other hand, by now Ava has acted this way for so long that she cannot quite put it off anymore – if, in truth, she even wanted to.
Ava is fiercely, passionately pro-human and pro-resistance. Although she hides it deep in her heart and never fails to present a pleasant face, she loathes the galdor, and thinks them spoiled, self-indulgent and cruel. She would very much like to see the social order overturned and would not hesitate to do whatever necessary to make that happen, regardless of the cost. She likes wicks well enough; as a human with an unconventional life, she feels a certain sort of kinship with city-bred wicks at least. She has no particular thoughts on passives, other than to pity them in an abstract sort of way.
Ava was raised by a single mother in Old Rose Harbor. Her uncle owned a small textile shop where her uncle's wife, mother and grandmother worked, and for most of her childhood, things went quietly and well enough. Like most humans, she and her family suffered small, near-daily indignities, but they had each other, they had a little bit of savings tucked away, and things were comfortable enough.
When Ava was about ten, her grandmother passed away. This might not have mattered too much, except that at nearly the same time he became the new family head, her uncle had a run of bad luck in his businesses. He drained the family savings and took out heavy, high-interest loans, and just barely managed to keep the doors open, although they needed to move from King's Court to Cantile. Ava was old enough to be aware of the tension running through the household but didn’t believe that things would really get worse. All the same, as the oldest cousin she did her part for the business, mostly running errands or helping clean the shop.
Two years later, another disaster struck; one of the moneylenders raised his rates, and from the shouting fights she heard around the kitchen table, it was clear that her uncle would no longer be able to repay his interest and the rent on his shop. It was amidst this uncertainty that, one day, a glamorous-looking galdor woman walked into the shop. She took Ava’s uncle with her when she left, and he returned grim-faced and solemn nearly an hour later.
Ava was never exactly sure how much anyone knew; she preferred to think her mother was unaware, and sometimes liked to daydream about what she might have been told. All she knew was that her uncle woke her in the middle of the night, covering her mouth with his hand to keep her quiet, brought her downstairs in her nightclothes and sent her off with the galdor. By the time it occurred to Ava to argue it was too late; the carriage was locked, and the galdor slapped her smartly across the face when she tried to leave, hard enough to make her head spin.
After that, life changed quite a bit.
The galdor woman lived in Vienda and ran a rather secret establishment for wealthy galdori men of unusual (and, if not always illegal, at least best kept secret) tastes. In the establishment, Ava worked essentially as a servant, earning her keep with chores while at the same time being taught to walk gracefully, speak eloquently, and display all sorts of desirable feminine traits. She – and the other human girls in the house – were pampered and well-kept, but prisoners nonetheless, with guards at every door and bars on every window to keep them there.
And then, a few years later, it was made clear to Ava that she was expected to earn her keep in a very different way. Few girls resisted, and those who did were made an example of. In a way, Ava was lucky; before she was eighteen, she met a high-ranking galdor politician who was so taken with her that he refused to allow her to see any other clients. After a year or so, he moved her out of the house, and put her up in her own (secret) apartment in Vienda. There were still guards on the doors, but no bars on the window, not anymore, but by now Ava wasn’t sure if she could remember how to escape, or what might become of her if she did. Although she never let even a flicker of it show on her face, she hated the galdor who kept her there, even as she worked desperately to please him.
It was there that Ava met the resistance. Resistance members had learned the galdor’s secret and infiltrated the guards he kept on Ava. They approached her, and Ava began to pass along what she knew of the galdor’s activities, gleaned from bits of bragging and careless talk when she and he were alone. This secret purpose lit a fire in her heart.
One day, the galdor told her they were through; he meant to advance his career, and she was a weakness he could no longer afford. Rather than send her back to the establishment, however, he gifted her with enough money to get by for some time and allowed her to keep the clothing and jewels he’d lavished on her over the year.
Ava seized the opportunity. She sold most of what she’d “owned,” quietly and discretely, and found that, with the help of some of those from the resistance, what she had was enough for her own shop and an initial stock of fabric, much like those her uncle had traded in Old Rose Harbor. On the surface, Woven Delights is a fabrics store, carrying goods that range from the simple to the sublime. Underneath, it’s much more; a small cellar storeroom masks a secret entrance to a hiding spot for resistance members who need it, and some special fabrics are marked with woven codes passed between resistance members in plain sight.
For the last couple years, Ava has worked tirelessly to build her small but growing business, serving humans, wicks and galdori alike with a pretty smile, hiding resistance members and messages in plain sight without even a flicker of an eyelash.
Career and Income
Housing and Inventory