#sebastian de vairemont

[bastardofvairemont]

A Formal Announcement

From the Desk of Lady Marcette, Regent of House Vairemont On this the Thirteenth Sun of the Fourth Umbral Moon I, Lady Marcette, Regent of House Vairemont, do formally recognize Sebastian Greystone as a member of both house and family. I renounce and repeal any contradictory edicts released by my house and reinstate his rightful claims to house, titles, and estates. As acting head of House Vairemont I invest and ennoble him with the name, title, and honor of Lord Sebastian de Vairemont. Lady Marcette de Vairemont On behalf of his Lordship Baron Valerian de Vairemont

The announcement of Sebastian de Vairemont's elevation came as a shock to some, while others were surprised it had taken this long for his sister to make her edicts. Perhaps his approaching wedding had put pressure on her to make such a decision, lest he be wed as a bastard? Or, was she waiting until it seemed less… distasteful to reverse her late brother's edict? Perhaps both?

Either way, the Bastard of Vairemont now finds himself legitimized. A bastard no more. At least not in name. Though, it is not as if his rise will sit well within the nobility. There will be those who will still refuse to acknowledge him as one of their own.

Where will most fall? On the side of condemnation or congratulations?

[furys-mercy]

- | Brother | -

Word Count: 1,173 Characters: August Mercer, Sebastian de Vairemont

“Get yer arse up!” 

Sebastian had always been rather particular about his morning rituals, a fact that made his brother’s gutter drawl even more grating than usual. “Who let him in?” The question was barely groaned loud enough for Mercer to hear, much less the footman he’d left in the hall, shaking in his immaculately polished shoes. 

“I let m’self in.” The machinist ripped back the velvet curtains, allowing light to spill in. 

Sebastian hissed as he rolled away, covering his head with a pillow. “I am not in the mood for your games today, August.” 

“My games? Well tha’s fuckin’ rich ain’t it? Comin’ from the fella who left m’arse sittin’ on the deck’a m’damned ship fer three fuckin’ bells. Damned near froze m’arse off.” Mercer’s boot collided with an empty bottle of wine, sending it skittering across the marble floor. “Started ta wonder if ya were ill or somethin’, so I made m’way up ta tha gods forsaken Pillars ta find ya sleepin’ off a hangover? Nah. Get yer arse up, put on some fuckin’ pants, and lets get goin’. I ain’t gonna be late cause ya can’t hold yer liquor.” 

“And why, pray tell, did you not simply… leave? It would have been quite easy. In fact, it still is…” Sebastian waved a hand in the direction of the door. Or rather, the direction he assumed was the door. It was lucky for him that Mercer was too busy throwing open his wardrobe to notice that he’d suggested he leap out the window. 

“Unlike some folks I know, I happen ta be a fan’a keepin’ m’word.”

The rustling of silks finally spurred movement in Sebastian. He sat up to offer his counterpoint only to be stunned into silence at the sight of the clashing fabrics now piled at the foot of his bed. 

Mercer, on the other hand, looked rather proud of himself. “Get dressed.” 

Sebastian’s mouth hung open for several moments before he managed to huff out a response. “Absolutely not.” No one in this world could convince him to pair an emerald brocade with a cravat the color of sunrise.  

Mercer’s brow furrowed as he reached down, grabbed a pair of pants from the floor, and hurled them directly at his brother’s face. “I ain’t in tha mood fer…” His expression shifted as his gaze snagged on the piece of parchment that slipped free of the pants. The crest atop it made him visibly shudder. “Wha’ do those arseholes want with ya now?” Scarred fingers reached out to grab the paper before it settled fully into the folds of Sebastian’s velvet duvet. 

“It is nothing for you to worry with.” Sebastian launched himself forward, attempting to reclaim the parchment, but seeing as Mercer had not been sleeping off what appeared to be three bottles of wine, he was faster.

“Is this why ya tried ta drink yer whole damned wine cellar?” Mercer peered up at Sebastian from over his black-rimmed glasses. 

“Do not start with me, August. I am well aware of your feelings on the matter.” He reached for his dressing gown, tugging it on. “So, if you are inclined to congratulate me on my great fortune, do keep it to yourself.” 

“Hey, hey… tha’ ain’t…” Mercer was interrupted by Sebastian snatching the parchment from his grip. “Look, I ain’t gonna claim ta I understand any’a tha’ noble shite. But I ain’t ‘bout ta stand here an’ add ta tha pile’a ‘bo shite ya���ve been dealt.”

Sebastian stepped towards the fireplace, pausing to look back at his brother. “No? And why not? Is this not exactly what you have wanted since the day you learned of me? For me to choose a side… or be forced to.” He turned back towards the flames, contemplating if the edict in his hand might serve everyone better as kindling. 

“I… I didn’t want ya ta choose a side. Tha’ ain’t it. It’s…” Mercer stammered as he did his best to compose his thoughts. “It’s tha’ I wanted ya see tha’ you deserve better’n this shite. Tha’ there’s people an’ places where no one gives a shite who yer parents were. Tha’ ya’ve got other options. Ya always have, ya jus’... ya didn’t have anyone ‘round ta tell ya tha’.” 

“And what would you have me do? Take your name?” Sebastian didn’t know what answer he was seeking, but he knew he’d failed to tame the venom in his tone. 

“I wouldn’t ask ya to.” The Machinist didn’t even wince. “I know wha’ names mean ta people. I ain’t got much left of ‘em, ya know? M’parents, I mean… jus’ tha name they gave me. An’ I’d put up one hell of’a fight before I’d let someone jus’ take it. It don’t matter wha’ tha’ fancy shite says. If ya say yer Sebastian de Vairemont, then tha’ is who ya are. Ain’t no one got any say in tha’ other’n you.”

Sebastian sagged against the mantle, feeling the weight of his brother’s words. “Is it… is it truly that simple?” The touch of his brother’s hand on his arm surprised him. Had they been this close since that initial awkward handshake? 

“Ain’t nothin’ in life simple, but there’s satisfaction in fightin’ fer it, in buildin’ it with yer own hands, in tellin’ folks like tha’ ta shove it.” Mercer nodded towards the now crumpled parchment. “He ain’t got any bearin’ on you. Tha’s wha’ tha’ paper says. Ya don’t have ta play by ‘is rules anymore. He ain’t yer lord. Yer free, Sebastian. Free ta do an’ be whoever ya want.”

“And what of you? Will you not continue to wish for me to be something else?” Sebastian wanted to believe him. More than anything. But trust was a risk, as Akhutai had once noted. And while it was a risk he very much wished to take, he needed to be absolutely certain.

“I only get ta make choices fer m’self, not fer you. An’ I’ve already gone an’ made m’choice. I made it tha day ya walked in m’front door smirkin’ like ya were an’ holdin’ those damned letters. Part’a me wanted ta kick ya out. Ta tell ya ta shove off back ta wherever ya came from, but tha rest… tha rest jus’ wanted ta know ya. An’... I still want tha’. Cause yer m’brother. An’ I ain’t sayin’ tha’ cause we share blood. Blood don’t make families. Choices do. An’ I choose you, Sebastian. Today, tomorrow, an’ everyday after tha’.” 

“You… you…” For the first time in his life, The Bastard of Vairemont had been rendered truly speechless. There were simply no words for what he felt. Or if there were, he did not know them. So, he did the only thing he could think to do. He reached out for his brother, tugging him into a tentative and hesitant embrace. 

Mercer quirked a little smile before wrapping his arms around the taller man. “I love you, too, Sebastian. I love you, too.” 

[scales-claws-and-thorns]

[ainyan]

6. Highlight a FFXIV blog with an OC who is just incredibly, if not unreasonably, sexy.

~

12. Highlight a FFXIV blog that deserves more recognition by a wider audience.

And!

22. Highlight a FFXIV blog with an engaging OC who is morally grey, if not outright villainous...

6. Oh come on. Give me a hard one. As everyone knows, @sylaurin's Kabniel is not only incredibly, but incredibly unreasonably, sexy. And I'm not just saying that because she's my RL wife.

12. Everyone should be grabby-handing for @paintedscales amazing OC Nomin and her beautiful relationship with our favorite dragoon, Estinien. Check out their artwork while you're at it - they're amazing!

22. A morally grey, almost villainous OC? Well, you need look no further than @furys-mercy's alt Sebastian de Vairemont, otherwise known as @bastardofvairemont.

Let's spread some positivity. Ask me for a blog rec!

[gposers]

CONGRATULATIONS TO OUR WEEKLY FEATURE WINNER!!

Name: Sebastian de Vairemont

[furys-mercy]

Since we have a little bit of summer left, I thought this would be a fun way to sort of get back into my characters as I ease back into RP after my DT content hiatus. Please name a character when sending an ask. My characters: August Mercer Sebastian de Vairemont Cyrille de Archambeau Teo-Linh Kishar Sepelire Francois Pierre Olivier de la Neige Slate Wolfe

Summer Symbolism OC Questions.

A little list of OC questions based on the symbolism of Summertime.

Sunflowers - Growth and Success.

What is the most significant way in which your OC has grown since the start of their journey? Do they acknowledge this? Have others noticed the change?

How does your OC feel about their height? Would they prefer to be taller? Or more petite?

What is your OC's current ambition? Has this always been the same thing? Or has it changed over time?

What does success look like to your OC? Great riches? Fame? Immense power? A happy marriage? Or something else entirely?

What are the main barriers to your OC getting what they want? Whether in terms of their ambitions or simply their personal development?

Butterflies - Freedom and Spontaneity.

Does your OC believe that freedom is the most important value that a society should hold? Or does it rank below things such as security, social harmony or adherence to traditions?

Does your OC like to make decisions on the fly? Or are they more inclined to plan carefully and weigh up every decision before they commit?

Does your OC welcome committed relationships with friends or partners? Or does a sense of mutual obligation feel constraining or even stifling?

Does your OC like to keep a calender, planner or some other way of organising themselves? Or do they prefer to wake up each day with no clear plan?

What is something your OC has always wanted to try, but has yet to do so? What is holding them back?

Swallows - Travel and Adventure.

To where would your OC most like to travel? Assuming that cost, distance and other practicalities were no object…

Is your OC particularly adventurous? Or would they really rather prefer a quiet life, if such a thing were possible?

Does your OC like to travel light? Or do they prefer to take as much luggage as possible? Or even bring as many of the comforts of home as they can manage?

In order for your OC to consider something an adventure does there need to be a level of danger? Or are they happier enjoying risk-free excursions?

What is something your OC always takes with them wherever they go? Is this for purely practical reasons? Or is there an sentimental motivation also?

Picnics - Nourishment and Sharing.

What is your OC's favourite food to eat in hot weather? Or do they not have much of an appetite in the heat?

What foodstuffs might your OC pack for a long journey? What would be their prime consideration in choosing what to bring?

Does your OC willingly share food? Or do they jealously guard it from the wandering fingers of peckish companions?

If your OC were to attend a party or social gathering where they were required to bring food then what would they bring? Would they make it themselves? Or are they more likely to buy it on the way?

What food(s) will your OC eat because they know it is good for them, even if they really don't enjoy it? Or is the health and nourishment aspect of food not really a major concern for them?

Beaches - Warmth and Relaxation.

Does your OC find it easy to relax? Or do they need to be persuaded (or nagged) away from their duties and responsibilities?

What would your OC wear for a day at the beach? Would they chose something practical? Something skimpy and slightly scandalous? Or would they remain fully clothed/armoured at all times and make no concessions to the location whatsoever?

Does your OC enjoy warm climates? If so then is this because they grew up in a hot area? Or because they grew up in a very cold area and are pleased to get away to somewhere hotter? If they dislike warm climates then why is this?

What helps your OC to relax? Gentle music? The sound of softly falling rain? A stiff drink? A massage? Or something else entirely?

What would be your OC's ideal choice of chilled beverage on a hot day? A cold ale? A frothy milkshake? A fizzy lemonade? An outrageous and somewhat campy cocktail, replete with paper umbrellas, curly straws and slices of exotic fruit? Or something else?

[bastardofvairemont]

Commission by: @breathlesshunt (https://artistree.io/nene) Shared with permission. Look at my boy!! <3 And his beautiful new fangies! Nene is a lovely person and a joy to work with! So, if anyone is looking for a com, I *highly* recommend!!

[furys-mercy]

- | Disowned | -

Word Count: 837 Characters: Marcette de Lamoreaux, Sebastian de Vairemont Sebastian Greystone, Dacien de Vairemont (Mentioned)

__________________

As it pleases his lordship, the Baron Dacien de Vairemont, Sebastian, formerly of the House of Vairemont shall be known to all as Sebastian Greystone. Any and all claims to the titles and estates held by the House of Vairemont have hereby been rescinded.

“Why in all of the seven bloody hells are you here?”

Where most would have had the good sense to steer clear of the newly minted Sebastian Greystone, Marcette had been preparing herself for his wrath since she’d received Dacien’s edict. Even going so far as to don her best crimson dress for the occasion, a not-so-subtle nod to recently lost houses and heraldry.  

“Why, my dear brother, might a sister not…” The cold little smirk fell from her lips as she entered the parlor. This was not at all what she had expected. 

“Might what? Come to gloat?” Sebastian lay draped across his settee, shirt open and cravat discarded. “Go ahead. Say your piece.” He took a swig from the half-empty bottle of wine that had been resting in his grip. “But, do choose your words carefully, my Lady Lamoreaux, for they will be the last I shall ever be forced to hear.”

“Is this how you greet your guests, Sebastian?” Marcette gathered her silk skirts and traversed the maze of clothing that lay strewn about the floor. “Mother would be most upset to find that you have forgotten the most important of her many lessons.” 

“You, Marcette, are not a guest. You are a pest. And if I were not absolutely certain that you would howl like a couerl in heat if left on my doorstep overlong, I would not have allowed you entry.” He stared up at her, blue eyes rimmed in dark circles. “Now, was that all?”  

Marcette let out a disgruntled little huff as she perched herself on the edge of the nearby wingback chair that was almost always occupied by her now overly morose brother. The thought had crossed her mind that seating herself upon his proverbial throne might oust him from his stupor. For he had yet to truly rise to her challenge, and she didn’t come all of this way to be disappointed. “Who are you? And what, exactly, have you done with my brother?”

Sebastian nodded towards a piece of parchment on the floor. “You may read for yourself. I am, it would appear, Sebastian Greystone.” His words were punctuated by another swig of wine straight from the bottle, an act that Marcette silently attributed to his recent associations with soot-covered brume rats.

“That is who you have always been.” Her words were matter-of-fact. “Do not act as if today is the first time you are hearing the true nature of your birth. You are a bastard. You have always been a bastard and that truth has never reduced you to…” She wiggled her lace-covered fingers in his direction. “Whatever this is.” 

“That is not the issue at hand and even you are not dense enough to think otherwise.” He pushed himself up onto his elbow, eyes narrowed at her. “Is there no part of you that cares for her wishes?”

Marcette was caught off guard by the question and it showed in her eyes. “She is dead, Sebastian.” A fact that she still struggled with. “Her wishes carry no weight here.”

“And why not? You know as well as I do that Dacien would not have so much as a single cushion to sit his pampered little arse upon if it were not for her. She built our house from near nothing!” He sat up further with each word until he was looming over her, bottle still in hand. “She is owed respect!”

There it was. The rage she had been searching for. Though, she would be loath to admit that it did not truly bring her joy. “Respects were paid and she was sent to the Fury’s halls in fine fashion. You and I can only hope for a mere fraction of the same.” The usual sweetness in her tone was all but gone, destroyed by the weight of the conversation. “She left behind a legacy, I will not argue that point, but you seem to be under the rather misguided impression that said legacy is you when it is most certainly not.” 

Sebastian moved to interrupt her. She raised a single gloved finger. “Ah. Do not worry, dear brother, I do not mean to suggest that I have found myself in the enviable position of filling Ysabel de Vairemont’s rather enormous shoes. I, unlike you, am well aware of my precarious position.” Marcette gracefully rose from her seat, straightening to her full height, which was at least two ilms taller than Sebastian, as she liked to remind herself. “I am also aware of our brother’s position in this family and the power he wields. We rise and fall at his bidding. You must come to be at peace with that.”

The Bastard of Vairemont squared his shoulders and raised his head to meet her gaze. The boy who had been set to drink himself into a stupor was nowhere to be found, having been replaced with the man Marcette had expected to meet. “I have no interest in peace.” 

[bastardofvairemont]

From the Desk of Baron Dacien de Vairemont On This the Twelfth Sun of the Sixth Umbral Moon Baron Dacien de Vairemont is delighted to announce the birth of his son and heir, Lord Valerian Aldéric Louis de Vairemont, born on the ninth sun of the sixth umbral moon. Both Baroness and child are doing well.

Rumors from the servant's hall of the Vairemont estate suggest that the child was born with a head full of black hair, making him look more like his bastard uncle than his father.

[furys-mercy]

From Top to Bottom: August Mercer, Sebastian de Vairemont, Marcette de Vairemont, Viscount Cyrille de Archambeau, Teo-Linh, and Kishar Sepelire. I, obviously, love a good elf. :D

my internal organs are actively betraying me today so please,,, take mercy on me,,, share with me your wols and ocs so that I may bask in their lovely radiance,,,

[furys-mercy]

| Disowned - Part 2 |

Word Count: 1,058 Characters: Sebastian de Vairemont, Marcette de Lamoreaux, Aurelian Greystone (Mentioned), Dacien de Vairemont (Mentioned)

“Where were you?! Out… out with your… whore, no doubt!” 

Sebastian suddenly found himself envious of the way she slurred her words. That happy light-headed feeling he had carefully cultivated over whiskey and conversation had worn off, with the very last of it evaporating at the sight of his sister sprawled across the floor of his bath amid pools of wrinkled blue silks. 

“Well? An… answer me!” Marcette waggled her wine bottle at him, sending splashes of brilliant red hurtling toward his doublet. 

“My comings and goings are none of your concern, darling sister…” He wiped a spatter of wine from his cheek before reaching down to claim the bottle. “The same could be said for the contents of my wine cellar.”

“The… the same… cou… could be said for…” She stumbled over her words, slurring as she clumsily tried to reclaim the bottle. “This… this is all your... your fault!” 

There was a spark of amusement in Sebastian’s gaze. “Please, do tell me the tale of how the unfortunate nature of my birth has brought us to this very moment. It is always so enlightening to hear how my mere existence has played a part in each and every one of your scandals.” His eyes drifted back to the bottle in his hand, brow furrowed as he took in the label. She had always favored lavish things, so it was no surprise that she had chosen the most expensive vintage. His favorite, of course.

“No! Do… do not… this is not…” Marcette’s quest for the bottle ended with her hands balled into little fists amid her pooled skirts. “You told them!” She threw her head back and met his gaze with a defiant one of her own. “The rumors… they were enough… to… to raise questions! I… I tried to… to ignore them. To shrug them… to shrug them off, but…” 

Marcette stumbled forward as she tried to stand, preferring to scold him from her superior height. Sebastian briefly considered allowing her to plummet back to the floor. The mental image of her skirts over her head was rather comical, but he currently lacked the patience to play such games. He caught her gently with his free arm, pulling her up to rest against his side. “Please, do continue.” 

“I… you…” She tried to push him away but lacked the strength to do much other than bat helplessly at his coat. “Do… do not… look at me like that! This… this is all your fault!” 

“Yes, I do believe you mentioned that.” He shifted his weight to deposit the half-empty bottle on a nearby counter. “Though, you have yet to elaborate on the how of it.” 

“Bastard!” She howled at him, tears welling up in her eyes. 

“Ah. There it is…” He moved to scoop her up into his arms. Her little attempts to resist him were easily thwarted and after a moment she was firmly in his grip, wine-stained skirts spilling over his arms. “I tire of this, Cette. Truly, I do. No one is forcing you to acknowledge me. Your presence here is your own doing. You are seen with me because you choose to be. Choose someone else to harass if you wish, but if you continue to take advantage of my hospitality, I must insist that you, at the very least, come up with new and more inventive insults.” 

“And… where… where else am I… am I to go?!” Marcette tried her best to hold back the tears, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, no doubt. “You have… you have made certain that I have no… no one else! No!” She interrupted his attempt to counter. “Not… not even Dacien! I… I went to… to him first.”

Of course, she had. Sebastian knew he was never her first choice. Rarely the second, either. He huffed out a small sigh as he carried her from the bath and towards the sitting room. “And is that why you chose to avail yourself of my favorite wine? Because Baron Vairemont refused to see you? This is hardly the first time, Cette…” 

“It… it isn’t… you… how is it you… you haven’t heard?” Marcette choked back a little sob. She had never seemed so small or so fragile as she did in this moment. It nearly broke his heart. 

“Heard what, exactly?” He sat her down gently in the crimson wing-back chair that faced the roaring fire. His gifting her his usual seat was a small token of affection that no one outside the pair of them was likely to notice. 

“Aurelian… he has been disowned.” She pulled her legs up to her chest, further wrinkling her skirts, the fire in her eyes returning as she moved. “Named Greystone. Just… like… you. I… I am the wife… of a bastard. The sister… the sister of a bastard… what, Sebastian, tell me… what does that make me?!” 

His heart sank in his chest. She was right. This was, in fact, his fault. He had spread the rumors about her husband’s parentage. The fact that she had pushed him to such lengths by revealing his own secrets seemed to matter less in this moment than when he’d made the decision. It was a game they had always played, but the consequences had become more than either of them could bear. 

The words didn’t come easily. Apologies were not his strong suit, expressions of affection even less so. His mind called back to words that were not entirely his own but rang true nonetheless. “Are you not free?” 

Her brow furrowed. Confusion played across her face. “You… you think that having… having nothing…that being… being nothing… is freedom?” 

He knelt in front of her, his bright blue eyes meeting her own. “There has never been a day in your life in which you were nothing. Those who sought to convince you otherwise only wished to diminish you. You are more than titles. You are more than an advantageous marriage. You are more than a beautiful face to be bartered for the power of others.” His words grazed his own scars, rubbing them raw, threatening to reopen healing wounds. “You are powerful in your own right. We both are.” He reached out cautiously, placing a hand on her arm. “Perhaps it is time we were no longer a house divided.” 

[furys-mercy]

Character Roster & LFRP

While this blog is largely dedicated to content surrounding my main, August Mercer, I do share drabbles and screenshots that feature my other characters as they exist in his world. So, I thought I would take the time to make a roster so people would know a bit more about the characters themselves. 

Character Roster

This currently only features the OCs that I regularly play and does not incorporate NPCs I have created for story arc purposes or characters that have been retired to position of NPC. I plan to add them later. I’ve left them out for now because I thought I might also use this post as a sort of LFRP and only wanted to offer information on characters I am willing to active play. 

I’ve been having some issues drumming up in-game RP lately as my RP groups have largely moved to Discord only as their lives are quite busy and prevent them from regularly logging in. Which is totally cool, but I am hoping to get back into some in-game interactions. So, if you’re interested, know someone who might be, or know of some open RP groups, link shells, or discords feel free to poke me!  Interested in: »» In-Game RP. »»  RP Linkshells. »»  RP Discords. »»  LGBTQ+ Friendly RP groups and RP partners. »» Narrative and consent based RP. I prefer narrative RP to rolling and would enjoy communicative partners that want to write collaborative story arcs. »» Character Development / Character Driven Stories. »» Short and Long term interactions. »» Magic RP (Including but not limited to warding, rituals, or taking on an apprentice) with Mercer, Teo, and Kishar.  »» Magitek RP (Including but not limited to prosthetic orders or maintenance, brainstorm buddies, or taking on a smithing apprentice) with Mercer. »» RP on the First with Teo or Mercer. »» Ishgard RP and Contacts for Mercer and Sebastian. »» Investigations! Anyone looking to hire someone to look into an aetheric oddity, magical item, or general mystery. Both Mercer and Teo work for Aetherflow Investigations and are happy to lend aid.  »» Any other hooks we might be able to come up with.

Not interested in: »» Discord/Tumblr RP. »» Crunchy combat systems or lots of rolling. »» Casual ERP. How to contact me: »» Feel free to message me here on Tumblr, contact me in-game on August Mercer, Teo Linh, or Sebastian Vairemont or reach out on Discord (Weezled#9715). »» I am available for RP most nights starting at 7 PM CST until around Midnight CST.

[furys-mercy]

dating sim ask: sebastian

Sebastian de Vairemont

Pros:

Confident

Flirtatious

Enjoys witty banter

Has a way of making you feel like you're the only person he can see in a crowded room.

Will serenade you. On violin, cello, and piano. He also sings. Quite well.

Is handsome and always extremely well-dressed.

Seems to know everyone. Or, perhaps, just something about everyone.

Will politically and socially ruin anyone who so much as looks at you funny.

Will also challenge people to duels for your honor. As an exceptional swordsman, he usually wins.

Likely a slow burn. (A pro if you like that sort of thing) While he will seem attentive, flirtatious, and interested from the start, it takes time for him to become truly emotionally invested.

Cons:

Arrogant to the point that he is prone to underestimating the people around him.

Was trained to be manipulative from a very young age and is very good at it. There is a chance his interest in you is based solely in an ulterior motive.

Will start out closed off and distant, keeping conversations on you and your hopes and dreams rather than his own true feelings. This will be a really slow burn and take quite a lot of prodding.

Comes with quite a lot of family drama. His two maternal half-siblings are hell on wheels and at least one of them would be dead set on intruding in any relationship that seems to make him happy and the other married a woman he was courting. They are likely to cause problems.

Has been deemed "socially unacceptable" due to being the bastard son of a noble lady and her Hyuran lover, who was executed for Heresy before Sebastian was born.

Is currently torn between two worlds. That of his mother and that of his father. He does not know where he belongs and is, unfortunately, rather bad at rebelling against the traditions he was raised in.

He is typically physically distant in public as public displays of affection are generally frowned upon. He may salaciously flirt with you, upon first meeting, but he will generally keep his hands to himself until privacy can be found.

Path Rating: Moderately Difficult

Sebastian's path begins with him spotting you from across a crowded ball room and making his way gracefully towards you. He turns on the charm and asks you to dance.

It begins like a whirlwind romance. He wants to see you again. He wants to serenade you, to sit next to you at the piano and guide your hands, to sing only of you and your beauty.

It is easy enough to get to this stage. Anyone could end up the subject of these affections. Anyone could end up in his bed from here. It is getting him to open up past that point that is the struggle.

He seems generally unwilling to share anything about himself that is not otherwise publicly known, he frequently redirects conversation topics back to his companions, and when conversations stray to close to his own emotional needs it is possible that the conversation may simply end.

It will take the right amount of prodding to get him to open up. It may also take one of siblings getting involved in any way for him to be willing to admit that he cares. Or if not them, some other whiff of danger that sends him on the defensive, forcing him to face his feelings and process them.

After that he is willing to explore them, albeit slowly.

Sebastian can be taken down two paths through play. The first would push him closer to the ideals of his mother and nobility. This would mean he would marry a noblewoman and take a lover on the side. He would do his best to make himself appear as a legitimate son of a noble house and would also ignore the Hyuran side of his family, cutting off contact with Mercer and his family and refusing to dig any further into the death of their father, Declan Mercer. As that would ruffle too many feathers and cause issues for his new wife and their soon to be growing family. As his romance interest you would need to either be comfortable being a secret lover or hail from a noble house yourself and be able to offer him the noble name he seeks. Either way this ending results in Sebastian married and still quite caught up in the noble intrigues of House Vairemont.

The second path would be to push him in the opposite direction. The love interest would need to get him to challenge the world his mother raised him in. They would need to push him to be closer to Mercer, to question what his mother told him, to seek justice for the death of his father. While this path has the potential to be far more violent (depending on how hard the love interest is willing to push), there is no chance that Sebastian marries for anything other than the love of his partner. That said, will the partner be willing to marry him after he murders his maternal half-brother and socially ruins his maternal half-sister? Will they still want him when he's burnt House Vairemont to the ground and called himself Lord of the ashes?

Thanks so much for the ask, @bnuuywol! (@set2zero also asked to see Sebastian's path.) I hope I did well with the answer! He's a guy at a crossroads. So he comes with a fair amount of drama. If a distant, vengeful man in a cravat doesn't do it for you, do not worry. I have more write-ups coming.

[furys-mercy]

Clandestine - In Three Parts

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Word Count: 2,409 Characters: August Mercer, Marcette de Lamoreaux, Sebastian de Vairemont, Vallerin the Butler. 

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clan·des·tine

adjective

kept secret or done secretively, especially because illicit.

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August Mercer __________________

“You will find the servant’s entrance at the back of the estate. All deliveries are to be dropped there.” 

Mercer had barely caught a glimpse of the butler’s cold gaze before the door was closing in his face. He’d expected this. Even if he’d bothered to run a comb through his hair or wipe the soot from his cheek, he would never belong in a place like this. They could smell the Brume on him, no matter what he did. And today, he wanted them to.

Show her exactly what she wants to see. The advice rang out through his mind. Repeating itself over and over again. Don’t pretty it up. She’s expecting a brume rat, give her one. 

“Aye. ‘Spose ya could send me ‘round back.” He leaned against the door frame, looking like an unwanted smudge of black leather against the white of the stone. “But if ya did tha’...” The door stopped, abruptly colliding with his boot. “Without acceptin’ this here callin’ card…” Scarred fingers slipped through the crack he’d created, waving the once-pristine card in the older man’s face. “I’d wager tha Lady’a tha house’d be more’n a li’l pissed.” White gloved fingers gently plucked the card from his grip. The butler’s nose wrinkled and his brow furrowed, causing the lines on his forehead to be even more pronounced. There was no way for Mercer to tell if the annoyance was caused by the black streaks that now marred the previously spotless gloves, or the fact that the was seal was, unmistakably, genuine, but either way, he relished it. 

“You are the goldsmith?” Wire-rimmed glasses slid down the butler’s nose as he took in the brume rat, gaze snagging on every smudge and every scar. “You are August Mercer?” 

“Aye. Now yer gettin’ it.” The cocky little grin that crossed the Machinist’s lips was enough to send further cracks radiating through the butler’s finely crafted facade. “Ya gonna let me in or wha’? Would’ve stayed m’arse at home if I’d known I was invited here ta jus’ ta freeze it off on tha damned doorstep.” 

“Now listen to me…” The calling card crumpled in the Elezen’s grip as he held his ground. Mercer’s grin widened. “It is my duty to…” 

“Vallerin...” 

Sebastian’s kin ain’t friendly. He’d been warned, and yet the saccharine sweet voice that echoed through the entryway sent chills down his spine. He didn’t know how something so delicate could inspire such fear, but he, too, found his resolve faltering as he watched his previously stalwart opponent shrink into himself. 

“Do be so kind as to show my guest to the parlor. We would not wish for him to catch cold.”

Mercer suppressed the chuckle that bubbled in his chest. He didn’t need to be a great player of the game to know that the growing chill in his bones was by her design. It almost made him feel bad for Vallerin. Almost. 

“Yes, my lady. At once, my lady.” Vallerin trembled, stooping into a chastened bow, allowing the door to swing open. “Do come in, sir.” 

Show them what they want.

“Now tha’ wasn’t so hard, was it?” Mercer caught a flash of sapphire silk on marble as he stepped inside, already shrugging off his coat. “This way then?” He started off in the direction he assumed his host had gone, leaving poor Vallerin behind holding his grease-stained coat and staring down at muddy boot prints. 

Marcette de Lamoreaux __________________

That accent. 

Marcette had known full well who and what her impending guest was, but nothing had prepared her for the moment his gutter drawl had violated her foyer. She wanted nothing more than to flee to her chambers, where a scalding scrub would cleanse her of the filth he had, undoubtedly, brought with him. But, alas, she had come too far to relinquish her hold on the situation. Her win was close. She could practically taste it. 

It was the sweet thoughts of her baby brother finally brought to heel that allowed her to maintain the demure smile she’d pasted across her face, even as she watched the heretic’s son gawp at the silver candlesticks atop the mantle. Perhaps she should have had them moved. It was, after all, best not to tempt the rats. 

“Please do accept my humblest apologies. I will have words with Vallerin. His behavior was most unacceptable.”  She gently brushed a chestnut curl from her face, gifting him a polite little smile in the same motion. “Ain’t really all tha’ worried ‘bout it. Was rilin’ ‘im up, anyroad.” The rat had finally managed to tear his gaze away from the silver long enough to hobble towards the settee. Why he bothered trying to hide his limp was beyond her. Even if he had no need for sympathy, battle scars were the only redeeming quality he had. He certainly wasn’t going to win any hearts with that crooked grin of his. 

“Tea?” She asked, always the perfect host, even to the vermin. 

“Nah.” The Machinist shook his head, black hair falling into his soot-smudged eyes. Is this what Sebastian would have looked like had their mother left him in the gutter he should have been born to? There was an undeniable resemblance. That smirk she’d always longed to wipe from her brother’s face now sat there mocking her as the man who wore it rubbed his grease-stained fingers on the periwinkle silk cushions beneath him. She would have to burn them when he left. There was simply nothing else to be done. 

“I ain’t really lookin’ ta take up much’a yer time. I would’a outright refused yer invite, but an uh… associate’a mine told me tha’d be rude. Ain’t sure why’ tha’s more rude than showin’ up an’ bullyin’ a lady’s butler ‘fore tellin’ ‘er tha’ ya ain’t wha’ she’s lookin’ fer, but…” 

Who was he to ever refuse her? An offer of patronage from the House of Lamoreaux was certainly worth more than the hovel he had crawled out of. It was a disgusting, yet also familiar, show of arrogance. One that she simply could not abide. 

“And yet you presume to know what it is that I am looking for without giving me so much as a moment to explain myself?” She reached for her cup of tea, praying silently to Halone that he would not see the fury he had stirred within her. “I am afraid your associate was correct, Mr. Mercer. That is quite rude.” Fiery blue eyes peered at him over the rim of her teacup. A girlish giggle bounced free from her lips. She hoped he would not see it for what it was, an attempt to pass her venom off as playful banter. 

“It’s jus’ tha’ I ain’t…” Tension radiated from his jaw. Leather creaked as he shifted in his seat. Her gaze practically dared him to rise up and meet her challenge. “Well, I don’t rightly know who’s been tellin’ folks I’m a goldsmith’a any sorta renown. Tha’ really ain’t wha’ I do.” 

A wave of disappointment washed over her, dousing her fire. Perhaps the similarities between him and their shared siblings began and ended with the dark hair and lopsided grin. For Sebastian had never once failed to meet her head on. A skill he had clearly inherited from their mother. 

“Oh, dear me, who was it that recommended you? I do believe it must have been Aveline de Heroux. Though, I could not tell you who told her. It takes someone far more clever than I to track down the true source of such things.” Relaxation returned to her and she brought her cup to her lips once more. This would be easy. All she had to do was keep him here, ruining her settee for just a bit longer. “What is it that you do then, Mr. Mercer? If you do not craft the most divine jewelry, then what is it you have to offer? I would so hate to have to send you home without having come to some sort of accord.” It was not a lie, though it was not him she sought to best. No, he had proven that task to be too trivial. It was the youngest of the heretic’s spawn that she wished to bring to his knees.

“Hate ta be tha bearer’a bad news, but unless yer lookin’ fer a prosthetic limb, I ain’t gonna be able ta help ya.” His attempts to hide the edge to his tone failed miserably. He seemed to be wound tighter than a top as he shifted once more, leaving even more soot streaks on her Thavanarian silk cushions. “Ain’t never sold a piece’a jewelry in m’life. It is jewelry yer lookin’ fer, yeah? Hate ta have wasted yer time.”

A chime rang through the foyer, signaling the arrival of what, or rather, who, Marcette was truly looking for. And he was right on time. How unusually considerate. “You have hardly wasted my time, Mr. Mercer. It is always beneficial to know of the best craftsman. In all fields.” She straightened her sapphire skirts as she rose from her seat, eyes already on the parlor door. “But, I am afraid I must cut our time together short, as it would seem I have another guest to attend to.”

“Don’t ya worry ‘bout it. Have uh… have a nice evenin’...” The relief was written all over his face. He wanted nothing more than to be rid of her. The feeling was mutual, of course, but only once she had gotten what she wanted from him. 

“I most certainly will.” Her tone was overly sweet. She did very little to hide her excitement as she stepped into the foyer to greet the guest who was already shrugging off his overcoat, a mop of wild black hair covering his face. 

“Ah, dear brother, you are just in time for tea.” 

Sebastian de Vairemont __________________

Sebastian de Vairemont found the sight of his brother standing there, grease-stained and soot-smudged, in the stark white of Marcette’s marble foyer almost as comical as it was frustrating. It was not, however, a surprise. 

His sister had never learned the true meaning of the word patience. Not in any aspect of her life. It was why she now found herself married to the youngest son of a lesser lord. Because, unlike Sebastian, she had never been capable of holding her cards close to her chest. She played what she drew, immediately, and without hesitation.        

“How very kind of you to wait for me.” The Bastard of Vairemont tossed his overcoat unceremoniously at the butler, who had to lunge forward to catch it, his wire glasses clattering to the floor. 

Sebastian didn’t give the man a second look. He kept his bright blue eyes trained on Marcette and her cat-like grin, closing the space between them with only a few steps.

“Oh! Before you go, Mr. Mercer… Sebastian, you might know the answer to the question that has been troubling us. Where was it that Aveline heard that little tidbit about the excellent goldsmith?” She was practically bouncing at her perceived success. “Surely she told you?”

“If she did, I have long since forgotten.” Sebastian leaned in to press a soft kiss to his sister’s cheek, refusing to give her the satisfaction of even acknowledging the game she already felt she had won. “Now why don’t you let this poor chap get on with his business? Surely you’ve had your fun?” His tone may have sounded jovial to some, but he had been besting Marcette for the better part of twenty-five years. He knew exactly how to send her spinning. 

And when she crossed her arms over her chest and stamped her foot, he knew he’d gained at least a little ground. 

“Fine.” Marcette brushed him off with a wiggle of lace-covered fingers, an act he knew meant she could no longer stand to pretend she enjoyed his company, not even to continue the show she’d so carefully scripted for his poor brother, who was still trying his level best to appear unphased. 

“I do hope to see you again soon, Mr. Mercer.” She crooned once more before vanishing back into the parlor. 

“Surely you’ve got better things to do with your time, Cette.” He remained in the doorway, allowing his gaze to return to Mercer if only to flash a quick wink and a happy little smirk. There was very little to be done if the man did not find the small act to be of any comfort. This was hardly the place to exchange pleasantries. 

“Or are you so lonely as to seek companions at the Machinist’s Guild?” Sebastian’s attention returned to his sister as strode into her parlor, making a mental note to congratulate Mercer on the disastrous state of that horrid settee. He would be glad to see it go. 

Marcette’s white knuckles beneath the lace of her gloves spoke volumes. That teacup was not long for this world. “Perhaps I should be asking you that. He’s your little charity case.” She huffed as he took a seat on the settee, careful to avoid the smudges. “Do not bother denying it. I am not an idiot, Sebastian.” 

That was something he very much wished to debate but now was hardly the time. “And you thought, what, that you would meddle in my investments? Surely your dear husband has many business ventures should you find yourself desperate to test the waters. You need not stoop to the patronage of craftsmen.”

“Business venture?” She scoffed, cold tea sloshing quite indelicately in her cup. “And do not attempt to use that smirk on me. I just sat here for half a bell staring it on the face of that grubby little bug you are trying to pass off as your business partner. Really, Sebastian. It’s uncanny.” 

“Yes.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, blue eyes sparkling. “And your husband has the butler’s eyes. Now, what shall I do with that information, I wonder?”

The sound that came from his sister could only be compared to the cry of a wounded couerl. She nearly leapt from her seat as she sent the teacup spiraling toward him. He dodged, deftly, sending it crashing into the stone floor. Tea now mingled with soot on the cushions of the ruined settee. 

Sebastian smirked. “Dear me, I do believe this settee will need to be replaced.” 

[furys-mercy]

OC Tag Game

Favorite OC: It’s really hard to choose. Mercer is my main and therefor gets the vast majority of my brainstorming and plotting. That said, I really enjoy writing for Sebastian and his current arc is probably my favorite I have going on. If I was forced to pick I would chooser Mercer. But only because I have been playing him for so long and he’s been through so much and has grown into a character I am really proud of. 

Oldest OC: Liyaya Liya. My original main in XIV RP. She grew from a baby adventurer with little knowledge of the world to a shrewd business woman. She’s now the NPC owner of Aetherflow Investigations and doesn’t get much in the way of actual screen time, but I do still love her so very much. 

Newest OC: Marcette de Lamoreaux. She was originally intended to be an NPC in Mercer and Sebastian’s stories that would eventually either die or be otherwise defeated. But, the more I wrote her, the more I loved her. And not because she is a good person. No, no. She’s awful. But there is something delightful about her inner monologue. I can’t wait to get some more RP on her after I come back from haitus. 

Meanest OC: I think it is a tie between Marcette and Sebastian. Kishar might also come into play here, but she’s more aggressive and less outright mean. The Vairemont siblings, however, have barbed tongues. Both of them. Sebastian has the ability to be nicer than Marcette currently does, but he can also be more venomous than her, depending on the situation and how his words might best benefit him and his plans.  

Softest OC: Teo-Linh. This one isn’t particularly close. Don’t let the void taint fool you. Teo is my soft and fluffy little man who is far too curious for his own good. Which has gotten him to trouble in the past and will continue to, but all from the perspective of being helpful and friendly and just all around good. 

Most Aloof/Standoffish OC: Kishar Sepelire. She’s a voidsent. Enough said, really. 

Dumbest (Affectionate) OC: Sebastian de Vairemont. I love this boy, but his (now crumbling) faith in the aristocracy and his place within it just makes me want to bang my head against a wall. 

Dumbest (Derogatory) OC: Marcette de Lamoreaux. She thinks she’s brilliant. She thinks she plays the social and political game like a master. And everyone around her is just wondering how many times she will have to lose and be put in her place before she realizes. So far, she hasn’t. And she’s lost a lot. 

Smartest OC: Mercer. His abilities in both arcanima and engineering stem from the fact that he is, at his core, a walking calculator. He’s always had a love of complex maths and as he got older he found ways to utilize that interest leading him to his current career path and skillset. One could argue that Teo’s encyclopedic knowledge of very esoteric magicks might rival Mercer on this question, but as Mercer also has knowledge in that area, I think he wins. 

Horniest OC: It’s a tie between Mercer and Sebastian.  

OC You'd Bang: I’m probably just going to answer this as the character I find most attractive, personally. Which is still a hard question to answer since they are all pretty good looking, but I have a major weakness for cravats and waistcoats. So, Sebastian wins here. 

OC You'd Be Best Friends With IRL: Teo-Linh or Liyaya Liya. They both love books, plants, and history. I think we’d have a decent amount in common and get a long pretty well.