unrealization-meta

[unrealization-meta]

About J'yura Nunh

Basic Information:

Full Name: J'yura Nunh

Aliases: Yura, Sigma

Age: 23

Class: Conjurer

Species: Seeker of the Sun Miqo'te

Pronouns: He/Him

Romantic Orientation: Heterosexual

Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual

Right or left Handed: Right Handed

Family: J'lalo Nunh (Father, Deceased), J'rina Lalo (Sister), J'kaya Lalo (Sister)

Songs that Represent them:

Status: Primary, Open, Crossover friendly

Personality and important info:

J'jura is a kindhearted and gentle soul. He can show a hard edge when needed, but he is inherently softhearted and will try to avoid violence whenever possible. Being raised in a tribe of skilled healers, he holds to an oath to do no harm. This is difficult considering his position as a conscript in the Garlean army.

He is the eldest child of his parents, who were both killed during military service for the Garleans. As such, he naturally fits intop the role of a big brother to the other provincial conscripts in his batallion.

He tries to find what little light he can in the situation he's in. The only good thing about being conscripted is that he ends up being around so many innocents in need of help. He helps the civilians caught in the crossfire anytime he can.

He has no love for Garlemald. He only volunteered for service to protect the younger members of his tribe from the frontline.

Appearance:

J'yura is a Miq'ote of average height and build, with brown hair and heterochromia. He is generally dressed in a Garlean military uniform and a helmet that covers his face. His face is marked with numerous scars, some from contact with the enemy, and even more from contact with his superiors.

Biography:

[To be added later]

[unrealization-meta]

About Senah Elakha

Basic Information:

Full Name: Senah Elakha

Aliases: Warrior of Light,

Age: 20

Class: White Mage

Species: Keeper of the Moon Miqo'te

Pronouns: She/her

Romantic Orientation: Bisexual

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual

Right or left Handed: Right Handed

Family: [Her tribe and family cast her out.]

Songs that Represent them: Wired for Destruction, Attack, Yeah Right, I Don't Care, Savage Side of Me

Status: Primary, Open, Crossover friendly

Personality and important info:

Senah is rough around the edges. By which I mean she can be quite unpleasant and unkind. She spent most of her life among a gang of criminals, and thus has learned to show no weakness. It can make her hard to work with as an adventurer. Despite that, she is rightfully very confident in her skills as a healer and will take it very hard if she ever lets anyone in her party down.

Her general demeanor and appearance often means people are shocked to discover she is actually a healer. It wasn't her first choice. Becoming familiar with healing magic made her useful in her former life, and it makes her a steady income now as an adventurer. She isn't likely to crack under pressure, and generally responds to panic by focusing on other people's injuries and difficulties.

She thinks of her bedside manner as 'tough love.' When people are reckless and get injured, she believes coddling them helps no one. She can often take that approach too far.

Her tribe cast her out at a young age due to her birth being connected to a bad omen. She abhors superstition in all its forms due to this, and is often overly cruel in her dismissal of people's worries. Regardless of whether her tribe's beliefs were true, she does seem to have an odd connection with voidsent that makes using thaumaturgy extremely dangerous for her.

At the root of her nature is an abject terror at the idea of being abandoned. Her tribe cast her out as a child, and her gang left her for dead after she was badly injured. She lashes out to keep people at a safe distance so she can't be hurt.

Senah can work as either the Warrior of Light or a non-WOL adventurer. This can be discussed when plotting with her.

Appearance:

Senah is a Moon Keeper with dark skin and dark blue hair. She is never seen dressed in bright colors, usually choosing black or dark blues in a gothic style. She keeps her hair on the short side. She is often seen wearing a sour expression, and is quick to glare intensely at anyone who bothers her.

Biography:

[To be added later]

[unrealization-meta]

About Akira Jikonashi

Basic Information:

Full Name: Akira Jikonashi

Aliases: Ultimate Actress, Ultimate Mimic, The Phantasm

Age: 16 (Hopes Peak Academy) 20 (After Tragedy)

Species: Human

Pronouns: She/her (But varies)

Romantic Orientation: Biromantic

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual

Right or left Handed: Ambidextrous

Family: Mother (Deceased), Father (Absent)

Songs that Represent them: Stay With Me, Dramaturgy, Love Like Lies, The New Black, Ditto, Celebrity Sin

Status: Primary, Open, Crossover friendly

Personality and important info:

Akira appears to be a shy, quiet girl in her normal form. Never making eye contact with anyone and speaking very little. This is actually due to her talent. If she watches the mannerisms of someone else for too long she will begin unconsciously mimicking them. Even matching their tone of voice and expressions. This is usually not something people appreciate once they notice it. She prefers texting for this reason.

Beneath the artifice, Akira is a deeply angry and resentful person. Her talent feels like a curse that makes every aspect of her life harder. She resents the institution of Hopes Peak Academy, not just for the fact that she is generally on the verge of expulsion, but because of what it represents in society.

Her personal identity is very unstable, and she feels like she can't hold onto herself in the presence of others. To Akira, there is no real self, only a phantasm that bears her name that seeks to fill itself with the personality of other people.

After the tragedy, she becomes enamored with Enoshima Junko and her Ultimate Despair. After Enoshima's death, she takes up her name and likeness and forms a group of likeminded individuals to wreak havoc in her stead. Unlike the real Junko, Akira does not admire despair in the same way. She sees herself as a revolutionary who is tearing down the old order. To this end, she essentially forms her own Ultimate Despair as a cult that worships her as its figurehead.

All of her followers cosplay as the original Ultimate Despairs. She is easily provoked to anger if she or her people are described as 'not the real' Ultimate Despair. Especially if her own role as Junko is questioned. Her Junko persona is more or less her headcanon version of Junko.

Appearance:

Akira, in the rare event she isn't pretending to be someone else, is a skinny young woman with short blue hair and yellow eyes. She would normally be seen wearing oversized sweaters and leggings under her skirt. She doesn't stand out in a crowd, nor draw attention to herself when she can help it.

After the tragedy, she is usually in a cobbled-together cosplay of Enoshima Junko, and acts as her interpretation of her. Their body types are so different that she could never be confused for Enoshima by anyone who knew her.

Biography:

[To Be added]

[unrealization-meta]

About Ashlynn

Basic Information:

Full Name: Ashlynn Redwraith

Aliases: Warrior of Light, Ash, Warrior of Darkness, Champion of Eorzia, etc

Class: Dark Knight (Most verses)

Age: 24

Species: Raen Au Ra

Pronouns: She/her

Romantic Orientation: Biromantic

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual

Right or left Handed: Right Handed

Family: Parents are dead.

Songs that Represent them: River, Rain, I Am Electric, End of our Days, Nuclear

Status: Primary, Open, Crossover friendly

Personality and important info:

Ashlynn can come across as cold and standoffish. Always on guard and ready to fight at a moment's notice. She doesn't show emotions well, and doesn't trust people easily. Every bit of her demeanor is constructed to try and construe herself as a threat. To tell the world to back off. To this end, she could be described as smoldering, ready to burst into flames when provoked. She is quick to anger, using her potential for violence as a defense mechanism should her other walls fail.

When she or her friends are threatened, The flames erupt. She throws herself into a fight with an almost suicidal recklessness. She can often be seen sustaining life-threatening injuries without a care. She sees value in herself as both a sword and shield, but has a hard time seeing value in herself as a person.

To her few friends and comrades, she is fiercely protective. Should anything happen to them she would be lost. Without a place in the world to call home. Despite her standoffishness, she tries to act as a protective big sister to her friends. She loves the people close to her, but has a difficult time expressing it.

She sees herself as a realist, but in actuality has a very pessimistic outlook on the world. Despite that, she sees other people's naivete and innocence as something worth protecting. It was something she lost far too early in life, and she would rather not see anyone else suffer as she did. "Life is hard enough. I'll not make it harder for the people around me."

Ashlynn is not quick to forgive. Even in understanding a former enemy, she is not likely to forget the wrongs they committed.

She is secretly quite insecure. She is particularly sensitive about her height. She is on the shorter end, even for other Au Ra women. She is easily rattled by jokes about her height. Quick to take notice of anyone who is actually shorter than her, and feel slightly cocky about it.

Appearance:

Ashlynn is a short Raen woman with wavy blonde hair and black irises. The bright red limbal rings make her eyes shine in the dark. She is never seen without her weapon, a great sword that is as big as she is upon her back. She dresses very practically, and is usually wearing some form of armor or protective gear. Her gaze is serious and probing, as if she doubts the world's intentions and is daring it to make a move.

Her body has numerous small scars from a lifetime of battle and hardship, but her most prominent scar is a knife wound on her chest, inches away from her heart.

Biography:

[To be added at a later time.]

[unrealization-meta]

About Skitch

Basic Information:

Full Name: Skittering Shadow

Aliases: Skitch, Grace, Rat King, Your Majesty

Age: 19

DND Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Class: Vermin Lord Ranger (From Grim Hollow PHB)

Abilities/powers: Verminkin, able to enlist swarms of rats to fight on her behalf. Knows the language of vermin. Septic strikes, Can empower any attack with a powerful pathogen, or hold the plague at bay. Hex magic, Can change her appearance or curse others with innate magic. Uncanny Token: Can create a token for remote viewing or psychic communication with someone.

Species: Human? (Hexblood)

Pronouns: She/her, They/them

Romantic Orientation: That's people stuff

Sexual Orientation: People stuff

Right or left Handed: Left Handed

Family: Mitzi (White rat, adopted mother) Rey (Human sibling, Never seen in person) Human Parents (Wants to see them starve to death penniless.)

Songs that Represent them: Hey You, Distant Honor, Rats, Dogland, Make Way for the King

Status: Primary, Open, Crossover friendly

Personality and important info:

Skitch has the mentality of a rat, and generally dismisses anything that doesn't keep her warm and fed as 'human stuff' that isn't worth concerning herself with. Just living outside the cell she grew up in and having food to eat is like heaven for her. As such she is generally quite jovial and cheerful so long as she has food in her belly. Her manners are practically beastly, and she is generally unable to act as a person would in social situations. Especially when it comes to food. Also, she will eat anything so long as it is somewhat edible. She will chastise people for overcomplicating life, and the idea of someone being sad when they have easy access to food and shelter is incomprehensible to her. This can make her come across as callous at times.

Despite her insistence that she has rejected humanity, she is undeniably human. Her concerns aren't so simple as a rat's would be, and she constantly tries not to focus on her human side. She truly despises her human parents and constantly suppresses her desire to get back at them. She feels unimaginable guilt at what happened to her sibling, Rey, and blames herself for their supposed death. She secretly longs for people's approval and love, though she has given up on it and resents people quietly for rejecting her.

She is fervently loyal to Mitzi, the white rat who took her in and raised her as a rat. She is Skitch's closest confidant and a mother figure who she will look to for guidance and affection in times of hardship.

Her morals are a bit twisted due to learning from rats.

She lives in the sewers, but will often go to the surface in disguise. She is generally distrustful of people and will try to keep distance until she is used to someone. However, when acting as herself, she will commonly refer to herself as royalty and declare anyone in her self-proclaimed territory as her subject. She refers to herself as a 'king' and wears a tiny crown on top of her hood made of trash and rat bones.

She is secretly very touch starved, but will never intentionally touch anyone for fear of giving them the plague.

Appearance:

Skitch is a short girl dressed in a patchwork mess of clothing. Her clothes are cobbled together from other garments she found in trash heaps or on corpses. She is usually seen wearing an oversized hood on her head with a tiny crown sewed into the top. Her skin is pale from a lifetime in the dark, and it seems to shine a sickly green in certain lighting. Her eyes are similar to a rat's eyes. Pink irises with a slightly lighter tinge of pink in the sclera. Her front teeth are longer and sharper than average.

Hidden under her hood, she actually has bright blonde hair, though its usually too dirty to notice even when its visible.

Biography: (Very long. Please read content warning.)

Content warnings: cw; abuse, cw; Neglect, cw; starvation, cw; violence, cw; violence against children, ;cw rats,

The Child and the White Rat

In a certain city there lived a powerful noble family, and to that family a child was born. Perhaps it was due to some fell bargain or a witch's curse, but the child was born wrong. Any who looked upon the child could see that it didn't possess the eyes of a human. Instead, the pinkish eyes of a rat, along with teeth to match. It did not cry as a human might, but squeaked and screeched like vermin. Anyone who came into contact with the child fell ill with plague. Ashamed and appalled by their offspring, the family sealed it in a windowless room in their stately manor.

The child grew up in that room, being fed through a slot in the iron door and rarely speaking with any humans. It was fed less and less through the years, and thus would resort to feeding on the rats that found their way into the cell that was its whole world.

One day, the child cornered a white rat in its room. Ravenous from hunger, the child planned to devour the rat, but the rat gave it pause.

"Tell me," The rat chirped, "Who was it that confined you here?"

The child could understand the rats squeaks better than the common tongue. It responded in kind.

"People." The child said, "People locked me up here and I don't understand why."

"Well," The white rat said, "My subjects describe you as a ravenous killer. Perhaps that is why you have been imprisoned."

"Sorry." The child said, "I don't want to hurt your subjects... I'm just so hungry. The people don't feed me, you see."

"Well," The white rat paused, "I am the queen of the rats in this land. Submit yourself and allow me to leave this room and I will ensure you are fed a bounty. Perhaps one day, you will leave this room and become my subject as well."

The child considered the white rat's words. It was uncertain if the rat could be trusted, and to allow her to escape was to starve for another day. It watched the rat's eyes, and saw that she held no fear towards the child. Merely the absence of revulsion was more than the child had grown to expect from anyone. It decided that the rat was kinder than the people who had locked it away and allowed her to leave.

The very same night, the house's larders were infested with rats, and the food that was stored there was thrown away. The next day, the white rat returned to the child's room, and her subjects carried the discarded food with them. The child ate its fill. sharing the spoils with the rats.

"Please," said the child, "Can I learn the name of my queen?"

"I am called Mitzi," Said the white rat, "And may I know your name in kind?"

The child hesitated.

"I was never given a name."

"I see," Mitzi said, "Perhaps that too will change in time."

The Child and the Human Touch

Years passed. The child saw MItzi often, as she took over regularly delivering food to it in its room.

Life was less miserable than before for the child.

One day, there was a knock on the child's iron door. The family had given birth to another child.

"Hello?" The other child called in a small voice, "I know I'm not supposed to come near this door but I could hear someone inside laughing... My name is Rey. Can you speak with me? Please?"

The child cautiously approached the door. People weren't to be trusted. They were cruel, unloving, and callous. Nothing like the rats.

"What do you want?" The child said.

"I knew it!" Rey said excitedly, "I knew someone was there! Please can't we be friends? Its so lonely in this house as an only child... You're my elder sibling, aren't you?"

The child hadn't considered that. Was this child more to their liking? Not hideous and cursed like it was?

"Why? Our parents imprisoned me because they hate me. Shouldn't you hate me, too?"

"Why should I hate you? I always wanted a sibling, and it sounds like you're always having fun in this room..."

The child did have fun. It heard so many stories about the outside world from the rats, and enjoyed their company.

"You should know... I am... Cursed. Hideous. Its why I'm locked away."

"Your voice doesn't sound hideous or scary. Are you sure?"

The child wanted to send Rey away. To deny this human like humanity had denied it. But there was something deep within that gave it pause. Could it really be accepted by a person?

"Fine. But you have to tell me about the world outside."

"Deal! I don't really leave the house but I'll do my best!"

The child came to enjoy its talks with Rey through the door. Rey was the only child of the family according to people, and was thus fiercely protected by the family. They were also confined within the house. Their cell was simply much larger than the child's. Rey introduced the child to books, and would often push them through the slot in the door so it could read them. Story books, history books, technical manuals, anything.

One night, Mitzi returned. This time she was alone.

"Child. I see you have grown accustomed to the company of people."

The child smiled.

"Just Rey. As long as they can't see me, they-"

"Have you truly come to love your own prison? Your jailors?

"No, I..."

"Please. Go carefully, Child." Mitzi insisted, "People are not to be trusted. They trample us underfoot. Poison and kill us en masse with nary a thought. You may be born of them, but you are one of us. Do not forget what they did to you."

"Rey isn't like them."

"Perhaps not," The White Rat, said, "I cannot know, know that I remember your kindness. Your mercy. I have returned it in kind. Will this human do the same?"

Mitzi did not return after leaving the child's room that night. Only her subjects. Her promise, however was soon to come true. During one morning, Rey appeared outside the child's door again.

"Sorry. I couldn't find the next book. I think I've brought you just about every book in the house already." They said with a laugh.

Rey had discovered a series of books that the pair had been reading together. Rey would finish one, and then pass it under the child's door. It was a story about a princess who had been confined to a tower, but she went on all sorts of adventures after being rescued by a knight and taken into the world. It resonated with the two children.

"Its alright." The child said, a little disappointed.

"I think... I think I'll convince Mother and Father to let me go into the city. Some bookseller must have the next book, right?"

The child inched closer to the door, its hands resting on its cold surface.

"The city? You mean the world outside?"

"Yes. They have eased up on me a bit recently, so I think its possible they will let me go."

"You have to tell me what you see out there! I've heard you can't even see the ceiling!

Rey laughed.

"Who could have told you that? your friends?"

The child had never mentioned Mitzi. Only vaguely referenced some other friends it had. Rey probably assumed they were imaginary.

"Well, whatever. I wanted to ask you something else."

"What is it?"

"Well, uh... You know... It won't be for a long time but one day I'll inherit this house. When I do I can let you out of that room."

The child's heart skipped a beat.

"So... Uh, I know you don't have a name, but once you're free you'll need one. I'm sure we'll go on adventures together! Just like the knight and the princess in the story! So... Do you think you'd like a name?"

"Yes.... Yes!"

"Can I call you Grace?"

It was the same name as the princess in the story. The child spoke the name aloud. Again and again, testing its feel on her tongue.

"I could... I could be Grace?"

"Of course you can! If you want."

"I do." Grace said, feeling a warmth in her chest she'd never felt before.

"Okay, Grace. I'm happy to know you, and I promise that one day we'll see the world together."

The slot in Grace's door sprung open, and something different from books emerged. A small, pale human hand. Rey's. Grace looked at her own hand, calloused and scarred from so many attempts to tear through the wall.

"Father says that if you make a deal with someone you shake on it. Take my hand."

Grace hesitated. Something in the back of her mind said she shouldn't, but she wanted to. She remembered Mitzi's warning. She pushed past it. Her fear and the warnings of others. She had never been touched by a person. Not once in her entire memory had a single person ever deliberately touched her.

She took Rey's hand. It was soft, smooth and warm. Inviting. And in an instant, Rey pulled their hand back. It was only truly then when Grace understood the depths of her own loneliness. To be deprived of such a simple comfort for so long.

"I'll let you know once I know more about the book! Father is calling me. See you tomorrow, Grace!"

Grace heard Rey's footsteps as they left. She was still dumbfounded, staring at her own hand, trying to recreate the sensation in her mind. She smiled so much it hurt. One day, she would leave this place.

Rey never returned.

The Child and the World Beyond the Wall

The following weeks were the loneliest of Grace's life. Rey never returned with any news. Mitzi never appeared since their last talk, and even the rats who delivered her small morsels of food stopped appearing. The house fell quiet.

And then one day, she heard heavy footsteps at her door. It wasn't Rey.

The lock clicked, and she was blinded by the sudden light. The door was open, and standing before her were her parents. She couldn't recall their faces, but she somehow sensed that was who they were.

"You spoke with Rey." Father said, "Didn't you?"

Grace felt a fear deeper than any she'd felt. The sheer hate in Father's gaze was worse than even the threat of starvation. Starvation was dispassionate. It claimed your life without a care. This was different.

She nodded.

"You touched Rey. Didn't you?"

She couldn't answer.

"Should have strangled you when I had the chance..." Father said, "Rey has the plague. Because of you. I know it was you."

Grace had no answer to that. She knew she was cursed, hideous, diseased. She knew she shouldn't have touched Rey, but she did. She did and now Rey was sick. Dying. She couldn't argue, because she didn't know how.

"People are not to be trusted. They trample us underfoot. Poison and kill us en masse with nary a thought. You may be born of them, but you are one of us. Do not forget what they did to you."

Mitzi's warning. It was never meant as a warning against Rey.

Her parents dragged her from the room that had been her whole world. Into the world beyond the wall. It was so dark, she really couldn't see the ceiling. Through backroads and alleys they went until they reached what looked like a great pit.

"Cursed child. Why were you even born?!"

Grace barely saw the knife before he was upon her. Slashing and stabbing, kicking and punching. She couldn't fight back. After all, she had killed Rey, hadn't she? The only human who was ever kind to her, and she'd killed him.

When father was done, he cast her body into the pit. She was still alive when she hit the bottom, filthy sewer water poured into her open wounds. Grace passed away, leaving only the child. The one betrayed and imprisoned by a human family that saw it as a monster. And it was a monster, wasn't it?

"Poor child."

The child barely craned its neck up and saw her. Mitzi. The white rat was pristine despite the filth all around them. The chirps and squeaks of her subjects were all around, their thousands of eyes glinting in the darkness. She could feel their hunger. Hear their chittering and gnashing of teeth.

"This is the lot of humanity, Child." Mitzi said, her eyes shining, "You and I are mere vermin to them. I love you, and yet you loved your jailors more."

"Mitzi... I love you. I always did."

"I saw you." Mitzi snarled, baring her teeth, "The human had you out in the open. You did not run. You did not bite or scratch. You just waited to die. If you loved me, you would have chosen to live. You would rather die? Fine."

The rats descended upon the child, salivating at what was sure to be a hearty meal.

"In this world there are only survivors and meat. Which are you, child?"

Guilt preyed on its mind. The child had hurt Rey. Killed Rey. Surely it was cursed, like father said. It deserved to die. It deserved to die, and yet...

"I want to live."

"Louder."

I want to live!"

The rats pulled back.

"And your family?"

"Mitzi... It was always you. You and your subjects. You're my only real family."

"You fed on us when you were starved." Mitzi said, "I will return your mercy from back then. Survive, and you will never be meat. Instead, I would take you from your cruel human family."

The white rat approached. No other rat would dare stand between her and the child.

"Renounce them. Renounce humanity and I shall be your father and mother both, o daughter mine."

"I don't... I don't want to be a human. Not at all. I choose you."

"And I choose you."

The Rat King

The child grew until it was a child no more. Despite all the pain and hardship, its world was so much bigger now. It ran through the sewers with the rats, using its superior size and strength to bring them food and protect them as they had done for it as a child.

Due to the child's swiftness and natural affinity for avoiding detection, it was granted a name by its rat brethren. Skittering Shadow, often shortened affectionately to Skitch.

Skitch adopted the beliefs of the rats, and bore them no ill will despite them nearly devouring her when she first entered their world. After all, as Mitzi said, to live is to risk being eaten.

Despite Skitch's frailness by human standards, she was the strongest rat who ever lived. As such, it wasn't long before many rats called her their king. Mitzi, who skitch called mother, was proud. Skitch took the responsibility of her station seriously, vowing to protect all of her subjects from human cruelty and keep them fed.

It wasn't long before the people of the city began to tell tales of the rat king. A twisted creature raised in their sewers to whom vermin swore fealty. A being with mastery over the plague bearers and the diseased. Despite that, the city never saw another victim of the plague again, as though their mythical rat king stemmed the flow herself somehow.

Unbeknownst to the people of the city, the rat king would often hide her crown of filth and walk among them. Wherever she went, the great white rat was always with her, just out of sight. Whispering quiet encouragement and advice to her beloved child.

Deep within, Skitch hated her parents. Mourned Rey, but she pushed those feelings aside. Focused on the simple needs of her rat brethren. She rejected her humanity, but her mind was still that of a human. No matter how badly she wished it, she could not forget Grace.

[unrealization-meta]

About Firmian Estralaint

Basic Information:

Full Name: Firmian Estralaint

Aliases: Warrior of Light, Starcaller, Champion of Eorzia, many others

Age: 20 (ARR)

Species: Elezen (Half Duskwwight/Half Wildwood.)

Pronouns: He/Him

Romantic Orientation: Heterosexual

Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual

Right or left Handed: Right Handed

Family: Evie Estralaint - Raised together

Songs that Represent them: Monster, Wish You Were Here, Magia, Stray

Status: Primary, Open, Crossover friendly

Personality and important info:

Firmian is often arrogant, seeing citing a lack of education in others due to his upbringing being one of constant study. He will often give advice, even if it is unwanted.

Firmian is often deeply melancholy. Especially when he sees beautiful scenery or experiences a deeply moving emotional moment. In those times, he thinks of Evie. What she might have said if she was present. How he wishes she got to experience it instead.

Despite his overconfidence in his own skills, he rightly believes he couldn't do it without Evie. His body is carrying her aether and thus her magical potential. He literally has the power of two mages inside him, which makes him terribly strong but also makes his strength hard to control. Throughout ARR he had to relearn the basics of thaumaturgy in order to keep his power in check.

Firmian struggles to speak about Evie, even with trusted friends. Not only due to the forbidden nature of what she and he did in the past, but also due to a deep-seated guilt. He believes Evie was always the more talented of the two of them. The truly heroic one. He feels like he only acts on her behalf. Firmian is no hero, he is a thief who stole Evie's life and potential.

His upbringing in a void cult has informed his worldview a bit. He does not trust kindly authority figures, and he is deeply mistrustful of religion.

He carries a tiny red Ahriman with him everywhere he goes. Usually out of sight, but it gets around whether he likes it or not. He believes this tiny creature is all that remains of Evie, and thus it shares her name. He will often speak to it quietly when he believes he is alone, feeling some modicum of a connection to her through it.

Despite being a black mage, Firmian has a fear of fire. He lost his parents to dragonfire, and has harbored a deeply uncomfortable relationship with it for most of his life. Evie was an expert in fire magic and helped him learn to control it, alleviating this phobia somewhat. At least enough that he can harness astral fire in his spellcasting.

Appearance:

Firmian is a very tall, thin Elezen with black hair and a large burn scar across the side of his face. This scar is the mark of the Estralaint orphanage, marking him as a student of their dark arts. The hair on the crown of his head is gradually turning red, matching Evie's hair color ever since he absorbed her power into himself. He is usually dressed formally, whether in well-kept robes or a fine waistcoat and tie.

Biography:

Pre ARR:

Firmian was born in a remote community in Coerthas. He has only very scant memories of the place. When he was very young, his home was destroyed by dragons. He was taken in by an "Orphanage" that was secretly run by a cult of Black Mages that worship Voidsent. Most of the children at the orphanage had strong Aether. They all received Thaumaturge training. In any other place, Firmian's skill with magic at such a young age would be extraordinary. However, the orphanage was filled with natural talent. That paired with the fact that Firmian was extremely proud and arrogant made him something of a black sheep. Not to mention his heritage as a half-Duskwight.

That is, until someone even stranger arrived at the orphanage.

A girl from outside of Ishgard. Outside of Aldenard, even. If Firmian was a black sheep, she was an outcast. In fact, most of the other children were afraid of her because. to them, she resembled the very dragons that had taken their homes from them. With her jet-black horns and scales. She spoke very little anyway, and most of the children avoided her. Even Firmian shied away from her. The fear that the other children felt was magnified when they realized her natural talent. She had an incredible affinity for Thaumaturgy. Especially Astral Fire. While the other children learned basic spells, she was already casting third level fire spells.

This irritated Firmian. He had a solid grasp of Umbral Ice, but he had no skill for fire. Anytime he conjured flame, he would remember the smell of burning corpses at his village. The walls of flame that the dragons had wrought. One day, between lessons he cornered her. He demanded to know her secrets. Was it her dragon blood? Most of the other children had already decided she was half-dragon. She stayed silent. His fury had him shouting at her before long. Every foul word he'd heard people say behind his back. Every curse he'd ever heard his instructors throw at him. She smiled.

"That's it." She said, "Just like that. You're too stiff. You can't control fire like that."

That was the first of many lessons they would teach each other. He taught her control. She taught him to be wild. Against all odds, they rose to the top of their class. As inseparable as blood siblings.

Evie and Firmian. To many of the other students, they looked to be the very embodiment of Astral Fire and Umbral Ice. So unlike one and other, yet two sides of the same coin. The day came that their training was complete, and their final test was given. To go out into the Dravanian forelands and slay a dragon with only their magic. For the last time, Firmian and Evie separated. Firmian tracked down the very dragon that destroyed his home. His spellcraft brought the great beast low. Upon his return he found that Evie, and four others had also returned. They waited all night for the other 20 students. When morning came, they declared that the six had all graduated and were ready to move forward with their training. The others were never seen again.

Evie scored the highest, as usual. With Firmian close behind. With years of brutal training behind them, the pair spoke often of their future. Where they would go when they left the orphanage and naturally each of them included the other in their plans. Just one ritual remained. The ritual to christen them as true Black Mages of the Order. On the night of the ritual, Firmian noticed that he didn't see any of the other students. It was easy to miss them now that there were so few of them left. Something felt off, but he still went. His magic was his pride, the only value he saw in himself after a childhood filled with scorn for his 'filthy' bloodline.

He would just have to say a few words, then get his hat and rod, right? No big deal.

When he arrived, Evie was already there. She stood at the center of a circle of black robed figures. Her skin was pale, her eyes... There was something off about them. What did they do to her? He didn't have time to think before he was grabbed and forced to his knees.

"Good. The last sacrifice has arrived." The familiar voice of the Madam of the orphanage said, but her voice had come from the lips of a voidsent.

Evie's eyes met with his. They seemed to glow softly, not the glow of the candlelight. Her eyes themselves gave off a pale light. More than that, they were wide with terror. Her gaze seemed to plead for him to intervene, but what could he do? That's when he noticed the bodies. The corpses of all the other surviving students, arranged in a circle behind the robed figures. He couldn't feel their aether anymore.

"Just speak the words, my dear girl. You've already partaken of my blood. No point in turning back now." The voidsent seemed to speak into both of their minds. "Finish what you started."

She shook her head. Not him.

The voidsent smiled. The men in robes nodded. They grabbed her, and for what felt like hours, they hurt her. Magic, blades, beatings. So much that Firmian could barely stand to watch. No matter how badly they hurt her, no matter how much she screamed she still resisted. Still refused to take Firmian's life. Eventually, it was too much for Firmian. He cast a spell. Used the distraction to wriggle free of the men holding him back. He ran to her.  For the last time he held her.

"It's okay, Evie." He said through his tears. "Do what you must. I accept my fate. Please, just-"

The room seemed to explode with magic. 'I accept.' The words needed to complete the ritual. Evie refused to say it. To condemn him for the sake of her own power. He said it, like a fool. A damned fool. He felt her body crumple in his arms as her Aether was transplanted into him. Hers, and the aether of all of the other students who had met their end at the orphanage. It had all been planned for this moment, for Evie's ascension that he had just stolen. The voidsent descended on him, to lay claim to its new vessel.

"How?! How can you resist?!"

It was as though some power forced it back. As if his body was moving on its own, he rose to his feet and began casting a spell. Flare. A flare with enough power to level this hellish cottage once and for all. But it wasn't him. It was someone else's will that drove him. Not then Voidsent. Who? He would be caught up in the blast as well. It couldn't be....

He looked to Evie's body. He couldn't accept this outcome. Summoning what little mana he had left, he cast a spell of his own on her and himself, encasing them in a pillar of ice. The blast was deafening for hundreds of malms around.

When he awoke, Evie's body was still frozen. There was nothing left of the orphanage they had gown up in besides a burned-out husk. He placed a hand on the pillar of ice that contained the only person he'd ever really loved and whispered a promise to find some way to help her, and set off. According to the Holy See, it was a Dravanian attack that leveled the Estrelaint orphanage. They had no explanation for the unnatural glacier that had formed in its place. No survivors were found, but some speak of a mage clad in black. An Elezen man with black hair that seems to transform into a crown of bright red at its peak. A tiny Ahriman on his shoulder. The last anyone heard of him, he was headed for Ul'Dah.

ARR: [To be Fleshed out later]