Difference between revisions of "Davy Tempest"
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== [[File:FCtiny.png|left|55px]] <div style="padding:10px 15px; background:#2C3539; font-size:20px; color:#ffffff">'''Character'''</div> == | == [[File:FCtiny.png|left|55px]] <div style="padding:10px 15px; background:#2C3539; font-size:20px; color:#ffffff">'''Character'''</div> == | ||
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</span></span><hr> | </span></span><hr> | ||
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| + | It was not terribly long ago that a young and reckless puppetmaster had found himself at Death's Door. When he looked within, he saw only a precipice beyond the threshold. Beyond the precipice, he saw only a yawning abyss, and no light to speak of. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Virtually alone on a battlefield of broken soldiers, this young man felt that he had no one to blame but himself for coming to this point. Circumstances had given him an opportunity that he had wholeheartedly seized, taking no care to heed the consequences. His actions had left him in solitude, his peers and colleagues thinking him long-gone. He was all but forgotten, and truly had no means of reclaiming the more glorious days of his past. He knew that the syndicate- the family he had built- he knew that it yet lingered. It would have to be enough, for looking at his shattered automaton Allouette gave him little comfort or confidence that he could continue on in this world, in service to a Goddess who'd long fallen deaf to his cries. | ||
| + | |||
| + | His feet could not reach the ground, for whatever reason. He dragged himself along the ground toward the Door, only dimly aware of a figure as black as the night, eyes ablaze in yellow, warily prodding a blade into his back as he crawled. It was only when his still functioning right hand reached the ground of the precipice on the other side, that the figure violently buried hooks in his shoulders and tried to drag him back. A puppetmaster is averse to being played by another's strings, however, and his resolve was greater than his body's aching pleas to die and rest in oblivion. He hauled himself beyond the threshold, hooks and figure both held fast to him, and fell gracelessly into the abyss. He finally knew peace, on his own terms. | ||
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| + | Until he heard a voice. | ||
| + | |||
| + | It requested something of him. | ||
| + | |||
| + | It requested that he "Hear," and that he "Feel," and that he "Teach." In fact, it requested a great many things, as it bathed him in a new light, and planted his feet firmly on a vessel on a sea he had no knowledge of, bound for a city he'd never heard of, on a celestial body spinning through a cosmos that was certainly not his own. | ||
| + | A smile played across his lips for the first time in what he felt was a very, very long time. | ||
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</span></font></span><hr> | </span></font></span><hr> | ||
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| + | While noticeably tall for a Miqo'te by anyone's measure, his build is not unusual. A Seeker of the Sun, who has spent much of his time in Eorzea in overcast ports and dark corridors, it still comes as a bit of a shock to the darker skinned Seekers when they notice his eyes and teeth. They're left only to assume that he has taken up unhealthy habits and doesn't get enough sun, and he is usually first to groan slightly and tell them that yes, that is exactly what has happened. | ||
| + | Though reports on Tempest's appearance vary wildly, it can at least be generally agreed upon that he has predominantly dark hair, with highlights on the opposite end of the spectrum that appear to occur naturally. | ||
<div> | <div> | ||
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</span></font></span><hr> | </span></font></span><hr> | ||
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| + | It is almost universally agreed upon that this person has an addiction to Fantasia potions and toying with identity, yet still retains the name, regardless of what gender Tempest embodies at the time. There has even been precedent for an imposter posing as Davy Tempest, only to be used as cover for the real Tempest, who had at the time taken the form of a male Lalafell. | ||
| + | |||
| + | One unusual quirk that has been noted, however, is that Tempest's personality seems to vary wildly with each consumption of Fantasia potion. Already a dangerous substance as it is, the very idea that one might be inevitably drawn to it by their own nature or some form of addiction seems outlandishly terrifying, depending on their past or motives. | ||
| + | On the other hand, Davy seems to escape mortality with the usage of Fantasia, but at a cost that cannot be properly quantified. At least some of Tempest's memories remain intact, while others are lost entirely without hope of being regained. This has left a handful to ponder if clinging to the name "Davy Tempest" has offered some kind of anchor which allows him to retain some level of control or consistency in his life. | ||
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Revision as of 10:34, 27 March 2015
Character
♦ General
It was not terribly long ago that a young and reckless puppetmaster had found himself at Death's Door. When he looked within, he saw only a precipice beyond the threshold. Beyond the precipice, he saw only a yawning abyss, and no light to speak of.
Virtually alone on a battlefield of broken soldiers, this young man felt that he had no one to blame but himself for coming to this point. Circumstances had given him an opportunity that he had wholeheartedly seized, taking no care to heed the consequences. His actions had left him in solitude, his peers and colleagues thinking him long-gone. He was all but forgotten, and truly had no means of reclaiming the more glorious days of his past. He knew that the syndicate- the family he had built- he knew that it yet lingered. It would have to be enough, for looking at his shattered automaton Allouette gave him little comfort or confidence that he could continue on in this world, in service to a Goddess who'd long fallen deaf to his cries.
His feet could not reach the ground, for whatever reason. He dragged himself along the ground toward the Door, only dimly aware of a figure as black as the night, eyes ablaze in yellow, warily prodding a blade into his back as he crawled. It was only when his still functioning right hand reached the ground of the precipice on the other side, that the figure violently buried hooks in his shoulders and tried to drag him back. A puppetmaster is averse to being played by another's strings, however, and his resolve was greater than his body's aching pleas to die and rest in oblivion. He hauled himself beyond the threshold, hooks and figure both held fast to him, and fell gracelessly into the abyss. He finally knew peace, on his own terms.
Until he heard a voice.
It requested something of him.
It requested that he "Hear," and that he "Feel," and that he "Teach." In fact, it requested a great many things, as it bathed him in a new light, and planted his feet firmly on a vessel on a sea he had no knowledge of, bound for a city he'd never heard of, on a celestial body spinning through a cosmos that was certainly not his own.
A smile played across his lips for the first time in what he felt was a very, very long time.
♦ Appearance
While noticeably tall for a Miqo'te by anyone's measure, his build is not unusual. A Seeker of the Sun, who has spent much of his time in Eorzea in overcast ports and dark corridors, it still comes as a bit of a shock to the darker skinned Seekers when they notice his eyes and teeth. They're left only to assume that he has taken up unhealthy habits and doesn't get enough sun, and he is usually first to groan slightly and tell them that yes, that is exactly what has happened.
Though reports on Tempest's appearance vary wildly, it can at least be generally agreed upon that he has predominantly dark hair, with highlights on the opposite end of the spectrum that appear to occur naturally.
♦ Behaviour
It is almost universally agreed upon that this person has an addiction to Fantasia potions and toying with identity, yet still retains the name, regardless of what gender Tempest embodies at the time. There has even been precedent for an imposter posing as Davy Tempest, only to be used as cover for the real Tempest, who had at the time taken the form of a male Lalafell.
One unusual quirk that has been noted, however, is that Tempest's personality seems to vary wildly with each consumption of Fantasia potion. Already a dangerous substance as it is, the very idea that one might be inevitably drawn to it by their own nature or some form of addiction seems outlandishly terrifying, depending on their past or motives.
On the other hand, Davy seems to escape mortality with the usage of Fantasia, but at a cost that cannot be properly quantified. At least some of Tempest's memories remain intact, while others are lost entirely without hope of being regained. This has left a handful to ponder if clinging to the name "Davy Tempest" has offered some kind of anchor which allows him to retain some level of control or consistency in his life.
