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#that way it doesn't waste away in my drafts or brain or smth
tiredassmage · 3 years
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Character Profile ❅ Astor Caulfield
But the AU one. Also yes, I just took a bunch of pics in one set, shhh, am lazy atm.
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BASICS ---
Name: Astor Monroe Caulfield
Age: 28 years (By approximately Heavensward)
Nameday: 17th sun of the 3rd Umbral Moon
Race: Midlander Hyur
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Bisexual
Martial Status: Single, though still mourning
OC Tags: ch: astor caulfield, vs: dragonsong (the first being his overall character tag, the second being specifically for our lovingly dubbed heretic au x,D, which this sheet is for!)
PHYSICAL APPEARANCE ---
Hair: Dark brown, usually pulled back into a single, neat braid, though occasionally simply done up in a ponytail. When free, full length hangs roughly about his mid-shoulders down his back. He somehow manages to keep it relatively neat, despite the relatively frequent travel - part of why it’s usually tied up.
Eyes: A pale crystal blue, almost gray if you catch him in the right (or wrong) lighting.
Height: 5 fulms, 10 ilms.
Build: Average, with broad shoulders.
Distinguishing Marks: Little physically that isn’t covered by general physical descriptions. The stark contrast of his dark hair and pale eyes is usually enough to stick to people, if they’re trying, and the way his hair is always braided back.
Common Accessories: Generally carries a full deck of arcanima, regardless of current job. Generally wears a relatively simple band with a small design of blue gems set into it resembling ice or crystal. A simple leather necklace with an aged, once silver (at least in color, if not partially in material) charm usually worn freely over robes and other clothing - an inheritance from his mother.
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PERSONAL ---
Profession: Scion of the Seventh Dawn, he supposes, if you’d want to be technical. Generally speaking, just an adventuring companion to the Warrior of Light. Previously, a high-ranking member of Iceheart’s band, and something of an unofficial keeper of their knowledge.
Main Job: Astrologian and, later, Summoner, learned in the course of helping the Scions and Warriors of Light combat the persistent primal threat.
Hobbies: Gardening, a light and quiet enthusiast for drawing (he keeps a small journal of sketches of various landmarks and such from his adventures that he also keeps little scribbles of notes in, don’t perceive him, especially if he didn’t tell you). Let him hear of animals in need of rescue or adoption at your own risk because he’ll probably at least really consider taking them on himself. Occasionally indulges in a little fortune telling with his deck. Not that he’d admit it. And not that he’d do it for just anyone. Usually for his own peace (or opposite) of mind.
Languages: Possessed of the Echo, but native to the Eorzean Common Tongue, both spoken and written.
Residence: He hasn’t really felt settled anywhere since he left Tailfeather and Anyx Trine behind, but likely has a small retreat of a residence either somewhere in Gridania or Revenant’s Toll, so as not to be too far from Scion operations when necessary.
Birthplace: Tailfeather, the Dravanian Forelands. A little north of it, technically. But it’s the closest town, and that’ll do.
Religion: Though not exactly practicing, had offered his beliefs to the Twelve, and selected patron in Nymeia, the Spinner, though adventures since would have made him question a fair bit of things.
Fears: Disinclined to be totally alone, abandoned. Wildfires. Being manipulated and used as a tool or weapon, particularly against the few he does cherish. Not being fast enough to save someone else he loves - and, worse, not being able to do a damn thing even if he was there.
RELATIONSHIPS ---
Spouse: Ysayle. No, he’s never quite recovered, even by Shadowbringers, though he has learned to live with it, to carry his grief and move forward, instead of being held back.
Children: None, currently. Though he wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.
Parents: A father he didn’t know too well, lost to bandits on the roads when he was sixteen, and his mother, Gaia, lost when he was eighteen to illness.
Siblings: None
Other Relatives: None by blood, though the Scions are something of a found family, with time. He has also endeared himself to several of the dravanian residents of Anyx Trine, and got no small amount of delight in working with the younglings.
Pets: A hunting hawk named Zephira he nursed back to health from a broken wing.
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TRAITS ---
Extroverted / In Between / Introverted
Disorganized / In Between / Organized
Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded
Calm / In Between / Anxious
Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable
Cautious / In Between / Reckless
Patient / In Between / Impatient
Outspoken / In Between / Reserved
Leader / In Between / Follower
Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic
Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic
Traditional / In Between / Modern
Hard-working / In Between / Lazy
Cultured / In Between / Uncultured
Loyal / In Between / Disloyal
Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful
HABITS ---
Smoking: Never
Drugs: Never
Alcohol: Occasionally, and only lightly. Usually socially.
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ABOUT ---
Born and raised in the Dravanian Wilds to a humble hunter and trader and healer who had spent some time studying in New Sharlayan before she had left, Astor would see little of his father in his youth, though he’d know him to be a decent and loyal man. He was closest with his mother - almost insparable, they were just as much friends and as family. From her, he soaked up as much of her knowledge as she could share, eagerly taking after her in learning healing arts from conjury to the art of the astrologians. The young boy was particularly entranced with the art of drawing magic from the heavens and their representative cards. Together, him and his mother ran a small clinic from their home just north of Tailfeather, occasionally traveling into town to trade and work with the hunters there.
On one of his hunting and trading trips, his father was killed by bandits and thieves when he was sixteen, leaving just him and his mother with little closure on the who of the deed - not that it mattered. Knowing wouldn’t bring him home, and they still had lives to lead for themselves, and patients to tend to, so they carried on. Sadly, one might have said it was the first strike of tragedy, as his mother feel ill no more than two years later, and, despite his best efforts both physical and magical, her condition refused to improve until she passed shortly after his eighteenth nameday. Though the boy struggled to grieve the loss of his closest friend, he persisted their work in the clinic for two more years before the Calamity struck and changed everything as all had known it.
In the cold and snows that followed, Astor met Ysayle, and the pair of dreamers quickly grew close. Astor packed up to follow her where her dreams would lead them - into revolution, change for a better future, and an end to a war that had mired so many lives for far too long.
Over time, he became one of her most trusted comrades, filling a role akin to a second-in-command, often tending to their forces himself in the wake of skirmishes and conflict with Ishgardian forces and otherwise. When finally the Scions and the Warriors of Light entered the fray, it was with wariness and caution he met these would-be heroes. His trust would not be so easy to earn; he would not risk all they had worked for thus far - beloved, just hero of the realm or just some overzealous knights filled with lies and duty. Though, if Ysayle deemed them worthy of trust and cooperation... he would concede, for now. But he’d be keeping a very close eye on them.
Ysayle’s eventual death struck him hard and shook him to the core. He was quick to withdraw from their new would-be companions in his struggle to process the loss, though he ultimately agreed to see the battles through to the end - their vision, their dreams, could not end here. As Ishgard entered a period of reform and unrest in the wake of Thordan’s defeat and demise, Astor withdrew further to Anyx Trine, preferring to spend his time with the dragons - the better to perhaps find his own footing in the new unstable ground the nation tread upon.
Eventually, the mage would re-approach the Scions and Warriors of Light and ask, if they would permit it, something of a second try... He... had not exactly been warm with them before then, but... they had helped, when it wasn’t their fight, really... And Ysayle had believed in them. Trusted them. And this was all real... it was really happening... And he couldn’t stay.
He needed a new purpose, a new direction. One he could, perhaps, call more of his own. He would join them in their battles and adventures, if they would be amicable to it... For those they had lost. For those they could yet save.
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