Wickie Narset
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Wickie is a product of his nurture, if you could even call it that. He was raised by his gruff and troubled father on what could best be described as a wooden fishing barge that floated the rivers of the black shroud. He never knew his mother, or really anything of her. Any mention of her would start a new spiral of rage within his father that would end in blackened eyes or trying to fish for his own sustenance while his father would abandon him for several days of carousing.
As he matured into adolescence, the vitriol from his father only grew. Though he was the namesake of his father, he resembled him only in complexion. While his father had a frame that supported his bulky and masculine physique, Wickie had frail, feminine features, and struggled to gain any amount of physical strength. Finally, after a fateful argument that left Wickie's body more blued than not, his father dropped him off at the docks of Gridania and that was his last interaction. Wickie rarely saw him coming and going either on the waterways or in the small towns around them for a few years. He It's been about a decade since last sight, so the assumption is that his father corpse is rotting away somewhere in a destitute tavern or a mold covered barge. As an adult, Wickie mostly began to emulate what he knew. He developed the habit of burning Gil as fast as he could earn it, found companions of ill repute, and based his self worth on how much someone else wanted him. He started to accentuate his feminine features with jewelry and make-up, and made the unhealthy connection that the more he spent, the better he looked, and the more his company was desired. To furnish his falsely lavish lifestyle, he would disappear for a month at a time to the waterways and monger fish, recycle his funds into cloth and would spend the warmer parts of the day under the canopy of his shoddy barge hand sewing garments. Though he struggled to sell basic cotton shirts at first, his skill has vastly grown, and proudly wears what he can't sell for finer fabric. And of course, five finger discounts always helped to improve his stock of cloth and beads. One upside with being the "Cutest in the room" as he often claimed, is he never really had to spend much for his drinks or rooms for the night. Though he is known in many lesser taverns and inns across, his actual social circle is almost empty. He struggles to build any real relationships that last more than a night or two, and his jealous fits have cost him many friendships. After this much time living this lifestyle of what he deems to be a fallacy, he is finally developing the urge to expand his position in life, settle, and actually be worth something to something or someone for more than a night. He's recently been traveling broadly, stopping in the capitals for just long enough to accrue enough gil to haul him and his four duffels of garments to the next one, in the hopes of finding belonging.
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