Devereau Beauregard

Devereau Beauregard
"Does not the plight of beauty call out to you...?"
Purveyor of Beauty
Gender	Male
Race	Elezen
Clan	Wildwood
Citizenship	Ishgardian
Patron Diety	Oschon, the Wanderer
Age	48 (hates admitting it.)
Marital Status	Perpetually smitten.
Height	6 fulm, 10 ilms
Weight	200 ponz
Orientation	Pansexual

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Character

General

Where ever he may be, Devereau Florentin Beauregard is a man who is seldomly defined by his surroundings. Enshrouded in eccentricities and decadence, it seems he has little regard for the standards of any given nation. Not one to mask his passions and fervour, he often warrants a few curious (or confused) stares. Even so, he carries himself with a dignified air, tranquil and observant in nature. Upon approaching him, many find he has little qualms with shedding this calm demeanour for flamboyant pomp and circumstance in response to casual social interaction. Regardless of the man's modus operandi, most would agree that his actions are generally lofty and kindhearted, and a reliable source of entertainment in the destinations of his wandering.

For anyone who manages to wade through his flowery drivel and poetic speech long enough to force him to provide some personal information, he may be known as an artisan. The precise sort of artisan seems to be unclear; the most common responses being that he is skilled as a carpenter or as an alchemist. The one absolute is that the man has a distinct passion for creating weapons, artful implements of war. Though he much insists that he is of a pacifistic nature, willing to use words over steel, his love for creating tools of equal parts practical useability and artistic definition is unparalleled. Most inquiries for work seem to be rejected, as if he holds more care for works of passion over source of income. As such, most everyone who bears one of his armaments has compelled his inspiration with a tale of which he chooses to imbue into his artistic creations.

As overbearing as the man may be in appearance and speech, one thing is for certain: he is much more concerned of his company than himself. Most find themselves hard pressed to extract specific information from the man. Even when questioned of his (painfully apparent) heritage, he will often reply that is home is but where Oschon wills. Stalwart insistence, perplexing limericks and an unnerving smile seem to dissuade most from pressing such topics.

Appearance

A painfully vain man, he often has a well kept, neat appearance, though no less outlandish. He bears voluminous lavender tresses that reach slightly beyond his shoulders, accented with rolanberry hued highlights to coincide with the ear adornments he is so fond of. Great care is taken into maintaining this artificial colour and messy" look. Extremely defensive over the specific hue, he does not hesitate to correct those who would label the shade of violet incorrectly.

A heavy amount of cosmetics are worn each and every day, sharing complimentary shades of violet in a sweeping curtain upon his eyes and coated upon his lips. Concealer and blush is applied to further accentuate his prominent, sharp facial structure. Though he is gaunt and showing degrees of age in the form of severe dark circles beneath his eyes, he is of the mind that it in fact lends to his dramatic presentation, as opposed to hindering it. As the scar upon his right cheek is exceedingly deep and pronounced despite its age, he does not bother to mask it. He is, however, not partial to attention being brought to it.

His overall form is long and lithe, bones protruding upon his slender frame. Upon inspection, it would seem he has relatively well formed musculature, but this may be mostly as a result of his sheer lack of weight. The tone of his skin is extremely fair and pallid, devoid of notable blemishes or hair.

These details are usually not clear, as he usually found in vast bounties of rich fabric, favouring regal, high saturated colour and elaborate designs. There is a distinct androgyny to his clothing style, occasionally sporting skirts and revealing clothing. When pressed on the topic of style or corresponding orientation, he is very insistent that beauty transcends gender. One tying factor between all of his clothing choices is their sheer extravagance, despite the climate or occasion.

His stance and gait are no exception. Extremely expressive, it almost seems as if he is driven by a melody only he can hear, dedicated to a graceful performance. Often half-lidded eyes and swaying movements make him appear almost hypnotized, lost in a dream world of his own creation. A melodic, tenor voice lends to his narration, flighty notes and tones giving life to his poetic utterances.

Most would just beg he take things seriously for once.

Relationships

Family

Arienne Beauregard (Mother, deceased) -

Florentin Beauregard (Father, deceased) -

Annotations

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