Made using the TwinSerpent template, found here:https://wiki.ffxiv-roleplayers.com/pages/TwinSerpent_Template
WIP: Minor details such as the identities of side characters may change over time. I also plan on further expansion in some areas. Feel free to suggest any improvements you can think of!
Ao'to Elkhar was born to an Ul'Dahn street dancer of little to no repute, and an unknown father. Growing up in a city as disparate as Ul'Dah, he was presented every day with an affront to his lifestyle in the form of the decadence of the rich. It wasn't resentment that grew in him as he chewed the crusts of high society, but rather determination, to become rich enough to someday acquire a place in high society. He is ashamed of his low birth to this day, but makes a point of being open about it, as if he thinks denying it gives the fact power over him.
Not long before his fourteenth name-day, Ao'to left his home and family behind and severed all his ties, retaining little but his name. He signed on to an archaeological dig in the Sagolii desert, toiling for months in the heat, his only shade being the trenches they dug and the monolithic ruins jutting from the sand, he spent the the days swaddled in white cloth to protect from the searing sunlight. Six months passed in a flurry of excitement and exaltation as the sand always revealed another artifact beneath the last, potsherds, stone tablets and broken tools all appeared worth their weight in gold to the young Miqo'te, but that they in fact weren't, was a crucial detail, as the lack of monetarily valuable treasure prompted a withdrawal of the dig's funding. Barely recompensed but hardly disheartened, Ao'to signed on to the next dig, and the next. He was lavishly rewarded for every major find and spent nearly seven years slowly accruing wealth. During summer months, when digging in the desert would be deadly, he spent his time in Ul'Dah learning other trades, such as weaving and dabbling in thaumaturgy. He didn't consider these practices anything more than a needs to an end, however.
During the lead up to the Battle of Carteneau, expeditions received less and less funding, lessening their viability, so the Miqo'te found himself unemployed and dipping into his savings more and more. He spent months considering his next venture, coming to realise the political situation and learn of the Garlean advance, information lost to him while he was away. By the time he had fully apprised himself of the State's dire situation and had decided to enlist, the Calamity struck. Personally unaffected, it took Ao'to a while to grasp the ramifications of such an event. No longer was there the spare manpower for large-scale archaeological expeditions, a new path had to be chosen. The shame born of inaction during Eorzea's darkest hour burned hot in the young Miqo'te. He sank into self-pity and scarcely left his room at the Quicksand except to eat. His modest fortune gradually abandoned him, leaving him disenchanted with the idea of wealth, as it surely hadn't consoled his shrivelling ego or reassured him of his worth. His spiral into self-disgust was halted by an unexpected letter. The fine and lightly perfumed parchment exuded the sense of wealth. What little colour his pallid face had retained fled him as he read the first words "Dear Son". So she's found me after all these years? Or has she always known where I was? She's clearly doing well for herself, married rich probably, the paper and penmanship -not her own, clearly, she was always illiterate- scream that all these years of effort were worthless, each dainty curve of the flowing script an accusation of futility.
His anger and resentment bubbled up, in danger of spilling over before he had even read past the initial greeting. But he forced himself to read on, "Your elder brother has received posthumous distinction for his courage at Carteneau." like a club to the knees, those words floored him. Those elegantly composed words span and danced on the page as his eyes teared up.
NO, get up lest you let this news finish you. The heat of your shame has thus far melted your resolve, now is the time to reforge yourself, your tears can quench and temper only once the new shape is created, crying too early will only leave you a twisted scrap. Let these coming days define you, not your past mistakes.
That voice, his own, spurred the Miqo'te into action. He torched the letter, for it had already burned itself into his mind and he strode out the door of his room with the sort of clumsiness that makes a drunk look like a ballet dancer. His heart resembled a warship's drum playing battle-speed as his body tried to accustom itself to the first exercise it had had in months. Despite having all the grace of a newborn foal, he found his way to his destination. He slapped his nearly forgotten documents down on the counter before him, before staring into the bewildered eyes of the Flame Quartermaster and announcing "A-ato 'Lkar here t-to enlist."... he got it right the second time, surely.
Thus began a distinguished career in the Flames, the turning point in his life. The rest is, as they say: history.
"Well, it isn't just yet," piped the Quartermaster, "first of all, I'm not who you should be talking to if you want to apply, and secondly I don't think we accept people who attempt to soliloquy in public, you bleeding madman."
Ao'to spent the next four hours convincing the guards that he was in fact sane, before his application was finally accepted, and the rest is history. This time for certain.
Recently achieving the rank of second lieutenant, Ao'to decided to look elsewhere for ways to advance his skills and keep himself occupied. He signed on with the Kindred in the hopes of seeing some action and while he grew to like many of his co-workers, a burgeoning agitation began within him, a restlessness brought on by their inaction, only occasional games breaking the monotony of life at the bar. He felt on the verge of relapsing and his nerves were often taut in those days. His first mission with the Kindred and its disastrous aftermath showed him that the company simply wasn't right for him, he sought to leave the company and was promptly fired, so he intends on returning to the Flames.
- ■Height: 5'8", tall by Miqo'te standards, but not remarkably so.
- ■Physique: Lean and wiry, as seems the case for the majority of Miqo'te.
- ■Hair colour: A faded grey, like a white dishcloth after one too many uses.
- ■Eye colour Pale blue, near white.
A quiet and philosophical individual, he can often be found in busy places observing the daily lives of others. He is a lonely sort, shy around strangers but with those he's comfortable with, he becomes playful and talkative.
He tends to be blunt and even curt when dealing with others, but is slow to anger and generally means no harm to others.
Ao'to is an actor of sorts, born a guttersnipe but acting a gentleman, childish but feigning maturity and wisdom. His facade may crack from time to time.
★ Recent RP events ★
- "He's a whole other person when he's out there in a fight, I've seen it myself, something about the adrenaline just changes him. Not sure if it's bloodthirst or just mindless excitement." - A Flame Sergeant. (Available to those who've spent time at Camp Drybone ICly.)
- "Cold an' distant one him, doesn't come around here much anymore. Used to rent a room upstairs and always tipped well, when the mood took him he flirted with a few of the other waitresses but nothing ever came of it." - Barmaid at the Quicksand (Available to those who drink there.)
Player Character Rumours
Car Radio - Twenty One Pilots