Glace Silencieuse

NOTE: It is important to note that, outside of a few Garlean contacts and anyone who might have been close to the Colossus development project, it is NOT known to the masses that Glace has Imperial ties. If you wish to use this morsel of information ICly, please find me in game and send me a /tell, or drop me a line on the RPC forums.

This page is a work in progress.

"I will steal the light from your eyes..." ~ Glace Silencieuse

[edit] History I: A Stagnant Existence History II: Rebirth Personality Relationships Rumors IC Quotes and Trivia Writings Note: As this character and its page are fleshed out more, more detail will be added. More or less just building the basics for now. There was once a child born to a Duskwight clan, somewhere within the cavernous depths around and beneath the Twelveswood, and when he arrived it was with a stillness which echoed the winter deep hush blanketing the lands above. Not once did the newborn boy cry, not a single sound even as a hand sharply struck his backside to force him to draw breath. Although alive, his mother's weakness was already settled well into his small body, and there was doubt as to whether or not he would survive but a few bells, a few suns, or succumb at once to the same thing which had just claimed she who had given birth to him. These were the first odds the boy, dubbed Glace, defied. A persistently depressed immune system meant he was sick more often than not, and these illnesses usually settled in his chest, making it difficult to breath and leaving him with a racking cough which took its toll on his voice even as he grew. This became something other Duskwight children teased him about, and this drove him further into silence and eventual self-imposed isolation as he grew. The Silent One was always off to the side, shunned by his peers when he was well enough to get up and move about, and left feeling like a burden to his remaining family when he wasn't. As nomads, they never would have been able to afford the treatments he needed, and so it seemed they never bothered to try. By the time Glace entered his ninth winter, his life had known very few changes. He occupied his time by playing with any cave creatures which happened near where he rested, his favorite being a bat which he often found clinging to the wall nearest his bed. But even this was taken from him by his sire who saw the creature for a mere pest, and something which might potentially exacerbate the boy's frailty. The creature was done in by a heavy tome thrown from across the cramped cavern space. It's a fine way to wake up, having a thick tome and a dead bat land on you in the middle of the night. It was about this time that the aether pocket the nomads had settled around had grown unstable, although few if anyone knows why. The clan had already been preparing to move on in search of another settlement when a distortion in the aether enabled the appearance of numerous Voidsent, and resulted in continuous clashes and slaughter. The clan even tried to use their own tomb within the caverns to seal the Voidsent away and buy themselves some time to escape, but the toll was already a heavy one. The injured and dead lay scattered and torn throughout the tunnels, and those that were able to escape were left with some difficult choices. They took little or nothing with them aside from the bare necessities for survival, and this included casting off anything which would slow them down. Thus was Glace also left behind by his sire, but not before the nomads reached the nearest outpost, where Black Brush now stands. Here, he was found by Conjurers who could do no more to help him than the clan which had just abandoned him. They could only sustain him and thus prolong his suffering. Having nowhere else to go, the Silent One continued to tick away his days and wonder when he would join his mother in Thal's realm, indulging a train of thought that no one his age should ever have to consider. Time passed slowly, but at least this time he had caretakers who were genuinely interested in seeing him well, regardless of how little they could actually do for him. He even borrowed some of their books on Conjury just to have something to pass the time more quickly, even if he never delved into its practices. His continued isolation meant that he would remain largely oblivious to the goings on of the outside world, though he did catch snippets and rumors from time to time as he eavesdropped on the mages and adventurers coming and going from Stillglade Fane. He was into his seventeenth winter by the time the Calamity loomed on the horizon, and word of Garlean encroachment at the borders became the talk of Gridania. Every day the fear and worry grew, and he would eventually see the wounded and dead being brought into the Fane, some to be buried and the rest to be healed if they could be. The sight of all this, somehow, hardly bothered him, but after the Voidsent attacked his clan, the sights and smells of death were nothing new. There was almost a sort of... nostalgia attached to the experience. At one point, the Fane was evacuated as a precaution. Not only were there Imperial soldiers marching through the Shroud, but they were accompanied by a handful of their death machines, and they drew ever closer to the city. Several lesser experienced Conjurers even thought it would be a good idea at the time to try and take some of their weakest patients out of the city and deeper into the wood. This ended up being a fatal mistake for many of them. With so many roads blocked or under surveillance, there were few routes of escape where individuals and clusters of people would go unnoticed. Upon inspection of the bodies of the Conjurers and their wards, Glace was found to still be alive. Glace drifted in and out of awareness, sometimes finding himself flat on his back on a cold slab with his arms restrained, and at other times racked head to toe with agony as if all seven Hells had infiltrated his body at the same time. There were people around who were unfamiliar, staring at him and watching, discussing things which he could barely even begin to comprehend. They spoke of injections, augmentations... Ceruleum, something he had only ever heard of perhaps twice in his young life. What did all of that have to do with him? Why did one of those people have a needle full of weirdly glowing blue substance? Why was his every nerve burning? As if his own constant illness wasn't enough, these strange people in white coats sought to inflict more pain upon him. How much time passed like this, Glace never bothered to try and guess. Days or weeks... perhaps months of finding himself in and out of this state and, eventually, there came the realization that his breathing had eased. His endless, racking cough had subsided and had even vanished. He had been so focused on what his captors were doing to him that he hadn't noticed until late one night as he lay awake, restless, and hungry on a bunk of an otherwise sparse room. It almost reminded him of the cavern in some distantly comforting way. Perhaps it was even a holding cell of some sort. A mask had also been placed over his face, he realized, and he noted that he wasn't alone in the room as he looked around. There were others slumped over, propped in corners, sprawled on the wonderfully cold floor... others like him. Others who had just been taken on a grand tour of the Hells and survived to walk out the other side. At first, the youth wasn't sure what to think. Aside from his sudden improved health, other changes had been made which took some time to not only discover, but to accept. His arms were bandaged wrist to elbow, both throbbing with intense pain as he flexed his limbs and fingers and felt something move beneath the surface of his skin. Something unnatural which shouldn't be there. He made the mistake of removing his mask and unwrapping one of his arms to more closely inspect what had been done, and as his hand curled closed something tore through the already healed flesh and struck him in the face. A blade bit hot and sharp into his brow and he soon felt his own blood crawl down his face and across his lips, and the hunger he had been feeling somehow pined for more of it. Thus did he receive his first scar, his taste for blood, and the realization that all of this recent agony served a single purpose: It had made him stronger, more of a whole than he had ever been at any time in his young life, and whatever other atrocities had been committed in his augmentation didn't matter. All of this pain was his weakness burning away, and he owed someone for such a glorious rebirth. And so Glace committed himself to the whims of those he viewed as his saviors - body, mind, and soul - and where one grew stronger, another developed flaws, and the third atrophied almost entirely. Someone finally wanted and needed him and had taken great care to cure him of his illness as no one else could, and in return, anything he could do to please his masters became his joy. The constant drilling, combat training, and adjustments to nutrient and chemical regimens sculpted him physically, packing on bulk and muscle he had never had before. The pain brought on by the implanted blades in his arms subsided to a point where they truly felt like a part of him, and extending and retracting these weapons felt no more unusual than the movements of his own muscles. And then, sooner or later came his introduction to Mother, and then the Calamity... (to be continued) Everyone has three faces. The first face, you show to the world. The second face, you show to your close friends, and your family. The third face, you never show anyone. It is the truest reflection of who you are. Frost may at first come across as reserved, possibly even abrasive, to those he's unfamiliar with. Physically, he expresses very little on the surface. As someone who is well aware of his own position and capabilities, he would much rather keep close personal ties to such a number that he can count them on one hand. Two, at most. When business matters arise, he tries to be somewhat more cordial yet still efficient in coming to an agreement on his contracts, execution, and delivery of whatever needs to be handled. "Rank only entitles one to obedience. Respect is earned. You can't stand there and insult your company members and expect them to respect you in return." In more private settings, those he takes into his confidence - and vice versa - meet a man who is quite a bit more personable than what might first be assumed. He has more than once tended the wounds of some of his comrades with all the care of an experienced field medic, or given advice on one situation or another (with the exception of anyone's love life, something he'll readily scoff at). Those closest to him might even find affectionate company, rare though it is. "...But you don't need a lecture from a drone." Inwardly, Frost is a man who utterly lacks the confidence he might display on the surface. On the battlefield or delving into his favored art of taxidermy are where he shines the most, but as grateful as he is to Garlemald for enabling him to live a full life, he's well aware that this means doing so at a distance from all but his fellow Colossus Project subjects. Althea's death because of his augmentations only cemented in his mind that bringing anyone too close means harming them, or worse. Years worth of living at the orders of his superiors also means he has no sense of personal initiative or willingness to direct others in any sort of leadership position. Aimee Peltier - Frost's one childhood friend. He was separated from her when the raids claimed him and Oni, and only just rediscovered her within the past few months. He has kept his distance since then, more for her sake than anything else. Their sparse communications have been like a game of cat and mouse as she has worked to determine if he is really still alive. "I am here." Annowre Ka'lyth - A peculiar Wildwood who seems to insist on treating him as a friend even though he has given her plenty of reasons not to and his best attempts to remain distant. While aware of his loyalties, she doesn't seem all that disturbed by it, in fact holding it as a reason to keep an eye on him, that as well as his mutual ties with Oni and Aimee. She is a source of confusion for him. "Still not sure what the Hells' is wrong with you, woman..." Felix Drake - Frost doesn't know a whole lot about Felix other than his rank, and the mission they've been assigned to. His commands have been temporarily assigned to Felix in the meantime while Mother deals with things on the homefront, and has command priority if something urgent comes up. It's not an arrangement Frost is fond of, but there's not much to be done about it. 076 has also been assigned to Felix, a kind favor which both protects her and insures the Duskwight will cooperate without much complaint. "Thank you, I mean that. Let's get this over with so we can all go home." Lillium Silvanius aka Mother - The woman who saved Frost and made him whole, or so he believes. He is wholly dedicated to carrying out her every order and making sure she is happy. "If Mother is unhappy, then no one is happy..." Nero Varus aka Boss - After briefly encountering one another in Ul'dah and quietly identifying some mutual ties, Frost opted to sign on with Varus' ragtag band of monster hunters. There is still much to learn as they haven't had much of a chance to speak to each other at length, but Frost is content to go along with any plans which come up. "A few teeth? That's all? Just let the whole damn beast rot, what a waste. Well, if you don't want the extra gil that could come from dressing and selling the thing, that's fine with me. More in my pocket." Oni De'phor aka #168LS - Frost views the Hyur as one of his siblings, after a fashion, though more of a black sheep since he took leave of Mother's service and decided he could do better living amongst the adventurers and the mundane. He misses his "brother", but he also views the young man's absence as treason. "Stay on your guard. And damnit, make sure she is safe... for both of us." Daaken Drak'n aka #171DD - A Lalafell also known as Zero, and another sibling from Mother's brood. He has recently been taken in by a group of people who firmly believe they are doing right in the world, and that they're helping Zero by taking him away from his blood-stained past. Frost is concerned for the well-being of his diminutive comrade, and will be checking in on him soon. "Keep an eye on Lightning Spear. If you can't help him, then come home. We need you more than he does." 76 aka Ceruleum Flower - Although her rebirth was early during the Colossus Project, thus resulting in heavier and less aesthetically pleasing modifications, she wasn't deemed special compared to Frost, 168, and 171, so she lacks the additional designations which follow their numeric identifiers. Frost dubbed her Ceruleum Flower because the Miqo'te has always been a bright spot in an otherwise bleak and metallic environment. "Dear, sweet sister. I will let no harm come to you, not from within the ranks, nor without." Diveroix Velmontis - An overconfident Half Duskwight-Midlander who, following rumors of a combat-talented Duskwight, tried to hire Frost to knock over a covert caravan carrying Garlean equipment. Frost declined the job offer, and used the information to pursue and defend the caravan from being seized, thus preventing the wares from falling into the wrong hands. Diveroix ended up bloodied and dropped unceremoniously off of a bridge, and onto the rocks in the middle of the Agelyss River. "Probably should have killed him then and there and made a meal out of his entrails, but I want to play with him some more." Sigurd Sundsteigen aka Blondie - Frost isn't sure what to make of the guy. He's certainly eccentric, possibly even insane, but if there is one thing he does know it's that insanity often masks brilliance. In part because of Sigurd's wildly varying temperment, Frost often misjudges the man and finds himself frustrated in dealing with him. "Hug me and I will stab you." Skylar Brooks - She doesn't like calling him Frost, and won't accept being called 'Miss' in return for calling him by his actual name. She seems to keep thinking he's a medic, even knowing full well that he's more inclined to deconstructing corpses and carcasses than stitching living skin back together. Skylar also seems to be perfectly fine working with Garleans. All of these things leave Frost wondering if her judgment isn't a little bit skewed. "Am I being too nice?" Khana Borlaaq - One of the first few Au Ra he has met directly. For someone so young and, at times, lacking confidence she has a polished knack for surgical tools and didn't seem at all squeamish about amputating someone's leg. Frost can't help but be impressed with the tiny Xaela in that regard. "I think we know who gets to carve the Starlight roast this winter." Common Rumors "I've known plenty of people to take their buffalo steak rare, but he insisted that his should still squirm when he cuts into it... turns my stomach just thinking about it. His plate might have looked like a murder scene by the time he was done, but I swear he just about licked it clean." -- S'dhodjbi, at the Drowning Wench "Afraid I made the mistake of getting taken in by his pretty eyes. They reminded me of ice under a clear sky. Even his skin is cold to the touch, and I'm not meaning just his hands." -- Talkative dancer "What's with his voice? Someone punch the sod in the throat a few too many times or something?" -- Curious eavesdropper Moderate Rumors "I've seen a shadowy Duskwight with purplish hair around Ul'dah recently. Both times were on Pearl Lane, but that second time... he gave an ailing alley widow and her kids a sack of foodstuffs, and even a few potions. Creepy as he looks, maybe he's not such a bad guy..." -- Landebert, on Pearl Lane Rare Rumors "An abomination, if you ask me. If he really is a remnant of the Colossus project, then his entire brood should have been put down once the Colossi were deemed complete and put into service. Our scientists knew what they were doing... perhaps too well." -- Random Imperial Centurion PC Rumors Gla--- ermm, Frostie? He's an affable enough fellow, though I would never want to be stranded with him on a deserted, barren isle... especially after watching him attempt to strangle a man with his comrade's own entrails... Improvisation at its best, I suppose. Although Frostie has refused every hug I have ever offered him, he does send surprisingly... thoughtful gifts by mail from time to time. -- Sigurd Sundsteigen Elezen of mystery! One certainly surprised to find Frost enjoys meat in rawest form. Curious as to how and where Frost grew up.. not many Eorzeans like notion of blood soup, but Frost very much different." -- Tsaganarii Dhoro IC Quotes "Frost. Call me Frost. That other name is solely for documentation, you haven't earned the right to call me by that name." Trivia Although he is able to function just fine in isolation for an extended period of time, Glace has an intense fear of abandonment, bordering on phobia. He loves any vilekin... any creature which could be seen as vermin. This includes bats, rats, and insects. He hates seeing a child suffer unnecessarily. His favorite colors are blood red, and black. He has a strong affinity for ice and anything ice-aspected, and he has been known to walk around minimally clothed in cold climates. His skin is marked with numerous scars. How many are self-inflicted is anyone's guess. As a child, some of his favorite books were about anatomy. Had things worked out differently, he could have made a living as a chirurgeon. Tropes: Licking the Blade, Blood Lust, Blade Below the Shoulder Type II, Ax Crazy, Even Evil Has Standards Note: None of these are in chronological order as to when they occurred. At this time, they are only in order of when they were written. Eyes in the Darkness - Dinner, with a side of reclaiming confiscated magitek wares. Althea - A last, personal loss on the heels of the Battle of Carteneau. Severin Silencieuse - A solitary moment spent reflecting on his roots. Salvation - A piece of history. Following his capture during the raids, Glace arrives in Garlemald.

Glace Silencieuse Gender Male Race Elezen Clan Duskwight Citizenship Garlemald Age Mid-20-something-ish Height 7'2" Weight 270 ponzes Eye Color Cerulean Alignment Lawful Evil Patron Deity Nald'thal, the Traders