Kaen Gaelstrom

Work In Progress

Kaen Gaelstrom

The Tramp

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VITAL INFORMATION ■ BIRTH NAME... Kaen Gaelstrom ■ RACE & CLAN... Hyur - Midlander ■ GENDER... Male ■ AGE... 20 ■ NAMEDAY... 17th of the Third Umbral Moon ■ ORIENTATION... Bisexual ■ MARITAL STATUS... Single

OTHER STATISTICS ■ BIRTHPLACE... Aleport, Western La Noscea ■ CITENZENSHIP... Ul'Dah ■ CLASS... Gladiator ■ OCCUPATION... Sellsword/Adventurer ■ PATRON DEITY... Oschon, The Wanderer ■ HEIGHT... 6" ■ ALIGNMENT... Chaotic Neutral

✖ DISCLAIMER ✖ ☼ I prefer not to roleplay with people under 18. Please respect that. ☼ The opinions of my characters do not necessarily reflect my opinions OOC. i.e. If one of my characters develops a crush on yours, I promise I'm not going to get my feelings hurt if your characters don't reciprocate. (Some of my characters are flirtatious, please don't feel as if I'm forcing anything on you!) ☼ I absolutely love roleplaying platonic relationships like friendships or rivalries, backstory relationships, and temporary or unrequited romantic relationships. OTP type romance is fun, too, but not my only interest. ☼ I don't have many boundaries in roleplay. Mature themes like drugs/alcohol, graphic violence, abuse, and sexual themes are all fine with me given logical plot or character driven reason. Just please discuss with me beforehand if you want to roleplay serious injury or abusive or sexual themes. Note: I don't do pointless smut. I'm okay roleplaying sexual themes to further plot, character, or relationship development and that's pretty much it. Out of respect for FFXIV's rating and other players, I won't roleplay certain mature content in public spaces (like /say). ☼ If at any point in our roleplay you feel uncomfortable or I overstep any bounds, please don't be afraid to let me know. ☼ Paragraph style roleplay is my favorite. I also enjoy roleplaying on forums, tumblr, or skype. I'm willing to give out my skype handle, if you want it. ☼ I'm in a happy relationship OOC. I won't appreciate OOC romantic advances and OOC sexual advances are liable to get you blocked and possibly reported.

P E R S O N A L I T Y

A lover of banter, sarcasm, and speaking before he thinks, he has a tendency for getting himself into all kinds of sticky situations. More often than not, he escapes serious consequences by the skin of his teeth-- but not without some pain and suffering to show for it. Stubborn to a fault, he has a penchant for repeating his mistakes rather than learning from them. Some might call him "stupid" or ""flippant" or "reckless", but he likes to think of himself as simply "carefree." It's rare that he takes anything very seriously, and he can often be found grinning or jibing in even the most dire situations. His cheerful apathy can range from rude and inappropriate to what could be considered downright cruel, depending on the context.

True to his patron diety, he has the soul of a drifter. He grows restless being in one place for very long, or being restricted in general. He's a victim of wanderlust, and has spent the entirety of his life believing that the undefinable something he seeks must lie just on the other side of the horizon. There's been many times when he's found himself torn between the people and places he's grown to love and chasing the urge that he needs something more. In the end, he's always chosen the latter.

Due to his nature, he comes across as self-serving. Truth be told, he is.

A P P E A R A N C E

Standing at six fulms high, he's taller than most Midlanders. Broad shouldered, yet lithe and wirey, his heritage is still obvious despite his height. His skin is rough and bronzed from years spent under the sun, his eyes dark and deep. Shaggy, unkempt hair curls slightly at his ears. A smirk is almost always on his lips. Scars lace back and forth across his cheek bones, over his shoulders, down his chest and spine, out along his arms and legs-- most being failed lessons in humility.

LIKES ■ Animals. Despite his occupation as a sword for hire, which sometimes entails slaying the wildlife, he has a fondness for fiends. He can often be caught stopping to pet chocobos or any variety of the tamed pets of strangers. ■ The Ocean. His time at sea was the happiest of his life, and still he feels it's siren call. Being near the ocean keeps him feeling calm and at peace. At the same time, it can bring out a rare melancholy in him. ■ Adventure. Travel and exploration are his bread and butter. He simply can't get enough of this world. ■ Solitude. Despite his outgoing, life-of-the-party attitude, he prizes his alone time. ■ Ale. A pint a day keeps the bad feelings away!

DISLIKES ■ Being Landlocked. This has been his status for years now, and he still doesn't like it any better than he had in the beginning. ■ Uptight People. He finds little entertainment in them, aside from being a nuisance. ■ Seriousness. Life isn't meant to be taken seriously. Any grave scenarios or discussions will certainly leave him groaning, rolling his eyes, or otherwise making light of the moment. ■ Responsibility. He can't handle much more than the typical odd job would have him take on. Too much responsibility is simply something that ties him down, and if there's anything he can't stand, it's being tied down. ■ Authority. In the same vein of responsibilities, he doesn't like being restricted or bossed around.

FAVORITES ■ Stuffed Cabbage. Or any fish dish. He's a seaman at heart, after all. ■ Pineapple Juice. A tropical delicacy that reminds him of his homeland. ■ Celeste Green. He has an inclination towards blueish-greens. ■ The Footfalls. A thoughtful place that he often retreats to.

QUIRKS ■ Noise. Accustomed to the constant white noise rush of the ocean, silence makes him uneasy. He'll often whistle, hum, tap his fingers-- anything to break the silence. He prefers to sleep near the sound of running water; something unfortunately hard to come by in the deserts of Thanalan. ■ Flirtatious. It's in his nature. Flirting is something he does simply for the fun of it, rather than with any intentions. He's known to toss playful advances at any and everyone, from the cute little Miqo'te scholar to the burly, no-nonsense Roegadyn mercenary. ■ Nicknames. He has a habit of foresaking people's birthnames for whatever he deems to be more fitting. These nicknames are rarely flattering and may be subject to change without notice.

B I O G R A P H Y

■ POOR, MOTHERLESS CHILD

With one parent passing before he was old enough to walk and the other abandoning him at an extremely young age, he lived the life of a street urchin for a good number of years. Doing whatever it took to survive, he begged, he lied, he stole, and he dug through the garbage. His hometown of Aleport may have appeared a cozy hamlet to outsiders, but it's people were constantly struggling to fight off the raids of Reavers and Kobolds alike. Many shops had closed down and gil was hard to come by for all. Drunk and battle-hardened, the villagers could afford little kindness to the parentless boy who slept beneath the pier. He wasn't bitter about their passivity to his situation. If anything, he simply grew to understand that one couldn't break their back just to shoulder another's burden. Understandably, once he was old enough to realize there were places other than the bleak coastal town, he resolved to see them. His departure from the place he was born and raised was decidedly unremarkable. Barefoot and alone, he left quietly in the night, as if he had never been there at all.

■ LITTLE WANDERER

The thing about traveling that caught him off guard was that he had no idea how to get anywhere. However, he quickly realized he didn't mind this that much. He wasn't so much worried about getting to some specific destination. Simply going somewhere was enough to make him feel as if he were on the right path.

A little boy roaming aimlessly across La Noscea, it's a wonder he didn't mean some kind of tragic fate. But he didn't. He explored the land as children do; hapless, hopeful, and with a blissful ignorance of all the dangers he could stumble into with a single wrong turn. He rolled through the dirt, ate fruit straight from the bush, frolicked with the wildlife, and generally enjoyed his brief time playing adventurer. After a few months, he had wandered through to Middle La Noscea and was eventually taken in by Yellowjackets for pilfering from farmers' fields. He was carted off to Limsa Lominsan where, at a loss for what else to do with him, the Yellowjackets dumped him as a ward of the Blacksmith's guild.

Being a ward didn't last long for him. He hated the guild fiercely-- not because of the craft, but because of the abrupt withdrawal of his freedom. He had practically always been his own custodian. He'd been taking care of himself for years now and in his eyes he'd been doing a damn good job of it. After all, he was still alive, wasn't he? Then suddenly there were all these people watching after him. Telling him what he could and couldn't do, how he should behave, what he should think, saying that he was too young to understand certain things or to decide for himself. This, of course, he knew was bullocks. He was the only one who knew himself, after all. After a short time with the guild, he smuggled himself onto a passing ship. A desperate, if not naive, attempt at escaping the unsavory life he'd suddenly found himself in.

■ PIRATE'S LIFE IS THE LIFE FOR ME

It just so happens that the ship he'd stowed away on was a pirate ship, of all things, and once he was discovered he was nearly thrown overboard. Fortunately for him, the captain saw something in him, and permitted him to stay aboard as a cabin boy. He adapted extraordinarily to life at sea. Wind in their sails, traveling to lands most Eorzans could only dream of seeing, a new adventure on the horizon each week, with nothing but the vast, open promise of the ocean in between. It was perfect. The pirates were anything but nurturing, to be sure, yet still in time he grew close to them. The captain, especially, who became a mentor to him. For the first time in a long time, he was happy.

As he grew to be a teenager, he was expected to take on the duties of an able-bodied seaman. This included all the down and dirty deeds of piracy. It was easier for him to transition than most would expect. Their business consisted more of smuggling than raiding or general debauchery, but when the time for those things did come, he didn't bat a lash. Due to his glib approach to life, it was easy for him to shrug off the harm they caused to others, so long as there was profit in it for him. Perhaps it was the battle in his blood, being a son of Aleport. Perhaps it was that he'd never properly learned to love outside himself. Either way, the lifestyle simply furthered his individuality, instilled in him ever deeper that his troubles were the only ones that mattered. They lived in a world where you had to look out for yourself because no one else was going to and, frankly, no one else was fit to.

■ OCEAN OF DUST

Of course, all good things must come to an end. As he grew older and more rebellious, tensions rose between him and the ship's captain, who had become something of a dysfunctional parental figure to him. When the Calamity struck and they were forced to dock their ship until further notice, things only grew worse.

They worked the hills of La Noscea for a couple of years, earning their bread through small jobs as a swords for hire. It was dismal. Everywhere had felt the slap of the Calamity, nowhere thrived. He had never had any delusions about his comrades. They were brothers in arms, of course, and they cared for each other, yes, but in a strange way. It was almost as if they didn't know how to deal with each other outside of the grandeur and violence of the world they had built together. He always somehow knew that should their days at sea die, so would the oaths that bound them together.

The crew crumbled bit by bit until only a handful of them were left. He was desperate for gil and that desperation drove him to places darker than he could handle. Small squabbles with the captain escalated into unforgivable acts of betrayal. A rift opened between them, one that couldn't be bridged by half-hearted apologies. This was followed by a sudden, very urgent need to disappear-- and disappear he did. For the third time in his life he made the decision to leave behind all that he had come to know. It was just that this was the first time that it hurt.

At this point, he was a full grown man. He had heard tales of Ul'Dah, the city of gold, and hoped maybe he could find his way into something prosperous. However, his tongue and his sword both are sharper than his wit, and whether he can fair well in the dangerous market politics of Ul'Dah remains to be seen.

F O O T N O T E S

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