NAME: Mortis "Mors" Stellar
NAMEDAY: 3rd Sun of the 5th Umbral Moon
AGE: 22 (ARR&HW) — 23 (STB&SHB) — 24 (EW&DT)
RACE: Miqo'te
CLAN: Halfa None Catcher of the Stars (mixed Seeker & Keeper)
PRONOUNS: He/him/his
SEX: May have been designated female at birth were he raised by an individual that put more stock in assigning gender. Instead, he was permitted to pick for himself.
GENDER: Male.
ORIENTATION(S): Homoromantic/sexual
HEIGHT: 5'2"
WEIGHT: 116lbs
PRIMARY JOBS:
BLACK MAGE
SECONDARY JOBS:
DARK KNIGHT
ASTROLOGIAN
RED MAGE
TERTIARY JOBS:
MONK
WARRIOR
VIPER
HAIR: Soft and sleek tufts of raven that coalesce at the backside of his head.
EYES: Fuchsia and cerulean orbs with slit pupils. Tapetum lucidum has been inherited from his Keeper mother, which lead them to appear as if they glow in the dark. They seem to piece through your very core—and mayhap they do. As of late, he's begun playing with subtle eyeshadow for accentuation.
COMPLEXION: Pale with warm undertones. Ashen tattoos are printed across his cheeks, about the bridge of his nose and around his outer eyes. Albeit free from other commonly perceived forms of imperfection, a healthy collection of scars can be observed.
BUILD: Short and slight, but sufficiently toned.
PHYSICAL AILMENTS: Mild traumatic brain injury that resulted in one instance of memory loss and the occasional migraine.
MENTAL AILMENTS: Depression. CPTSD. OCD. Hypersexuality.
OCCUPATION(S): Streetwalker. Entertainer. Adventurer. Warrior of Light and Darkness. Scion of the Seventh Dawn.
FASHION: If it isn't predominantly black, he can't be bothered with it. Generally speaking, his ensembles cover up the better portion of his skin, but his shoulders, chest and occasionally even his thighs will remain exposed by design. Gloves are ever a must. Despite his predisposition to thaumaturgy, he's never been fond of those gaudy, cone shaped hats. Topping off with some manner of earring or choker is a perfectly satisfactory way of accessorizing, thank you very much.
ABILITIES: The echo—a near extinct ability to resonate with other souls and peer into their pasts. It serves as protection from tempering. The blessing of light—through which he exceeds limits. By way of combat skills, he may tap into various destructive spells sourced from the dark arts, allow for darkness to embody his fiercest resolve, blend black and white magic with spectacularly unique results or attune to constellations and channel their power through cards. He is also the resourceful and adaptive sort, able to work out most anything on the fly even if he's never practiced the skill prior.
POSTURE: Of deadly persuasion within battle and perhaps a little too casual out.
MOVEMENT: Elegant, efficient and light on his feet. While acting as a black mage, he remains stationary as possible, focus fixed on incantations so as to deal devastating blow after blow. It's nigh impossible to track movements fueled by red magic. Armed to the teeth as a dark knight, his manner of navigating any battlefield is thoroughly imposing that no adversary will have a moment's rest. Equipped with an astrologian's planisphere, he gracefully hovers aside companions, full prepared to mitigate and dress wounds.
It's sometimes said that male miqo'te can be territorial. Mors does not fit that bill. He's perfectly content to accept any degree of intimacy he's allotted, be it in a locale or from another.
Most all of his physical attributes resemble that of a Seeker of a Sun save for his pronounced canines, retroreflector and longer tail.
Rumor around Eorzea would have it that there's nothing he can't do. This is entirely untrue. Maps, cookware and dense literature are his greatest adversaries.
A heavenly singing voice that goes almost entirely unused as of the adventurer stint sleeps within his breast.
Most touches leave him unperturbed. Were a hand lifted with the intent of so much as grazing his head, however, he'd be liable to stop the appendage with tooth or nail and retreat some couple of yalms for good measure.
He's made a habit of winking or dramatically posing with his weapon in current usage for no good reason at all.
In truth, he is somewhat of a picky eater, but given that he's needed to fend for himself and settle for less more often than not, he's appreciative of anything that offers a semblance of flavor or nutrition.
He's the flirtatious sort. Oftentimes, it's merely a way in which he enjoys himself and has no particular intent behind it. A tell for instances where there is would be an unintentional swish or flick of his tail.
It'd be safe to assume he's made an enemy or lover on every continent. Occasionally, it's been both at once.
His comrades have forbidden him from donning the dark knight mantle without at least two of them present. Its mindset has a way of taking his natural inclination for recklessness and exacerbating the usual products. Namely, preventable injuries to his own person.
As a direct consequence of having very few secure places to rest throughout the better portion of his life, sleep comes to him lightly.
Mors finds no strong satisfaction in his fame, though he is endlessly amused by the tall tales that have sprung up as a result of it. His favorite finds are uncontestably the independent works of erotic fiction he always seems to stumble upon when venturing into markets that carry products without imprimatur.
No matter how time and experiences change him for the better, commitment and attachment remain sources of fear like none else.
CONTENT WARNINGS
APPLICABLE TO THE CHARACTER AT LARGE
Mors's backstory contains direct references and allusions to:
child abuse / drugging / head injuries
parent death / sex work / underage sex
Though all of this subject matter is purposeful and handled with utmost care, it obviously still holds the potential to be discomforting. Please proceed with due caution!
Having been separated from parents due to circumstances he cannot recall no matter how hard he strains his recollection, M'ortis was taken in by the reclusive viera of Golmore Jungle—but not unanimously so. Many didn't deem granting this outsider succor a strictly necessary interaction. Others argued the opposite, insisting that the kit who was scant old enough to give breath to his needs should be protected and acclimated accordingly. Then there were those who were torn, wholly understanding there are no morals to be found in leaving an injured, unattended child to fend for himself, yet bound by their obligations to the Word of the Wood.
In the end, it was ruled that the nestling would be allotted free range to spend his time whereabouts he was welcome, but those who felt as if their faith would be put in jeopardy by his mere presence were under no obligation to acknowledge him, much less tend to his wants.
"Mors," as said child called himself—a result of struggling to articulate his name properly upon being asked—was henceforth taken in by Beorhthelm, an elderly Viera whose faith in his tribe's rigid traditions had been waning ever since his birth son was banished for laying in bed with an outsider. Doing nothing to protect his son or speak against his expulsion was quite possibly his life's greatest regret. He hoped to atone for his inaction in some small part by way of rearing Mors.
Life under these polaristic circumstances was a far cry from easy. Each day, Mors grappled with the fact that plenty of those he ought to have been able to call neighbors would sooner leave him to bleed out in the dirt than meet his eye—but Beorhthelm cared for, cradled and loved him irregardless of further damage to his own repute.
...
Joining up with the Scions of the Seventh Dawn is a wary endeavor. Learning to function within an already estalibhsed team when he never once thought he could feel at home around anyone apart from Beorhthelm, K'atsyaa or his old troupe takes ample effort. Thankfully, these companions prove themselves to be worthy of every onze and much more.
A REALM REBORN
AS OF "CLOSE TO HOME"
AS OF "THE UL'DAHN ENVOY"
HEAVENSWARD
AS OF "COMING TO ISHGARD"
AS OF "INTO THE BLUE"
STORMBLOOD
AS OF "FLY FREE, MY PRETTY"
AS OF "ONCE MORE, TO THE RUBY SEA"
SHADOWBRINGERS
AS OF "WARRIOR OF DARKNESS"
ENDWALKER
AS OF "REFLECTIONS IN CRYSTAL"
FROM "A FROSTY RECEPTION" TO "IN FROM THE COLD"
FROM "PETALOUDA HUNT" TO "THOU MUST LIVE, DIE AND KNOW"
DAWNTRAIL
AS OF "SEEKING THE LIGHT"
AS OF "THE RITE OF SUCCESSION"
by @kabuki03_v!
by @Hoctalya!
by @ayshiun!
by @courtmartialme!
by @froggercube!
;(A REALM) REBORN
Taking up the mantle of "adventurer" was something Mors had assumed would be a humble, solitary affair. More respectable than his previous occupation, to be certain, but fulfillment and stability were not counted among his expectations. How then could he have ever imagined he'd fell gods, be regaled as Eorzea's champion and find a home, family and purpose in the Scions of the Seventh Dawn?
HEAVENS(WARD);
Mors has never been the sort to crumble in times of despair. Much of his life and more could be described as a tooth and nail struggle just to carry on 'til the morrow. Even still, losing so many of the first comrades he's afforded his trust in years would naturally take its toll. For better or for worse, with yet another war that needs waging, he has precious little time to fixate on the wear and tear of his heart.
;STORM(BLOOD)
Another dearly departed friend scarcely mourned. Impossible odds to break even. Bodies and spirits broken beyond that of which even freedom's kiss could mend. Once proud lands drenched in the blood of those long subjugated. How does the Warrior of Light, a mere mortal in adamantine soldier's clothing, find the will to march onwards? For those he has lost, of course. For those he can yet save.
SHADOW(BRINGERS);
As if the fate of one world didn't lend enough weight to Mors's shoulders, that of a second joins the fray amidst times already rife with uncertainty—but mayhap not all hauntings need be unwelcome. New life germinates from death's coldest ashes. The shrouded face of a stony stranger belongs to your precious friend. Stars shine at their very brightest in the dark.
;END(WALKER)
With the glow of the moon to light his path, Mors walks.
DAWN(TRAIL);
No more "once upon a time."
BEORHTHELM — The caretaker a child who lost everything would wish for. His affections, stories and lullabies hum in Mors's breast even still.
K'ATSYAA — A woman with whom Mors shared a brothel's bed and clientele. Were it not for her intervention, his body would have been trafficked and disposed of halfway across Hydaelyn. Following the conception of K'atyaa's daughter, Mors swore he'd stop at nothing to ensure a kinder life for both of them.
NOHRA — A keeper who parted with the Black Shroud to pursue love in its truest form—that which she would show to herself by adopting the wanderer's life her father led.
MIHKYA — A vagrant seeker who parted with Xak Tural on the off chance he might trail after a bewitching traveler's heels.
WILHEARD — The first man Mors surrendered his heart to. A hapless decision that could have cost him his life.
ALPHINAUD — Similarly to his sister, the younger sibling Mors never had. Watching the boy come into his own has been one of the most satisfying experiences of his lifetime and he would drop most anything if it meant showing up to be Alphinaud's right hand. They've developed a unique system for communication without words during their time in Ishgard and have used it as a crutch to navigate more close calls than one.
ALISAE — Similarly to her brother, the younger sibling Mors never had. He is aware of her little crush on him and sees it as cause for endearment. Though reciprocation is outside the realm of possibility for a veritable bounty of reasons, he remains her staunch supporter in absolutely everything she does. Their cooperation and chemistry in battle is unrivaled.
G'RAHA — Once the cause for fleeting infatuation that scant had an opportunity to develop and now the enduring holder of Mors's affections. Though there was initially some friction between them as a result of G'raha's misinterpretations, the two miqo'te found firm kinship in what they had in common and any dissimilarities to be captivating. Throughout the course of their meeting, parting and unexpected reunion, G'raha became a man for whom Mors's feelings are equal parts cause for exhilaration and fear. Though he struggles to give breath to the words, it wouldn't be an exaggeration were he to call G'raha the love of his life.
[ AND I WANT TO GO HOME ;
BUT I AM HOME. ]
HAURCHEFANT — Far too comforting of a presence in uncertain times and one of the precious few former lovers Mors caught himself developing romantic feelings for. He'd scarce begun grappling with the fact that he might be ready to reciprocate the Elezen's all too obvious desires for something exclusive when he was ripped away from him, prompting Mors's heart to harden. Though he's since made peace with his passing and all that could have been, ever does Mors echo, "For those we have lost. For those we can yet save," to weigh anchor.
[ THROUGH THE WINTER LIGHT ;
I WILL READ ALL HIS DREAMS TO THE STARS. ]
RAUBAHN — There may be no one else in this world that Mors admires and aspires to more. When Raubahn speaks, he will assuredly stop and listen.
NANAMO — In one way or another, Mors has become one of Nanamo's most trusted confidants. They know each other's favorite teas and serving preferences by heart.
KAN-E-SENNA — A calming individual whom Mors is always pleasured to interact with or service. Whenever he imagined what type of person his mother may have been like, he dearly hoped she was something akin to Kan-E-Senna.
AYMERIC — Aymeric became smitten with Mors at a time where he wasn't amenable to returning his feelings in any capacity. Thankfully, this did nothing to impede their mission or friendship. Mors looks forward to the day they can dine together uninterrupted.
MOENBRYDA — In the short time he had the pleasure of knowing her, Mors felt as if they could become fast friends. They'd gone so far as to make plans to share a drink the night of her passing. Laughs and pleasantries that could have been haunt him even still.
VENAT — ...
Y'SHTOLA — Fashions consultant, tight knit found family and best friend. Mors does not hesitate to call her "Shtola." As a bizarre and long lasting joke, the two direct flirtations towards one another in spite of the fact that Mors is only attracted to men and Y'shtola, only women. She is one of the only souls who can get away with addressing him by his birth name.
THANCRED — A tried and true friend with whom Mors would trust much and more. They are both highly skilled in the art of seeing through one another's masks, if only because they share the selfsame habit of relying upon them during times where emotions would otherwise run high. Many of their off duty nights spent together are fueled by ale and mature conversation, the brand of which only those who once called the streets their home could engage in.
LYSE — Not unlike a sister to him. Go to sparring partner. Recent developments have understandably made it such that finding time to be social with one another is rather difficult, but they always make sure to write.
PAPALYMO — A wonderful facilitator and mentor to Mors' early thaumaturgy endeavors. Would that they had more opportunities to know one another outside their studies.
MINFILLIA — Eternally a source of inspiration, comfort and guidance. For as much as Minfillia doubted herself, when faced with a decision beyond his judgement, Mors will oftentimes ask himself what she would have done.
TATARU — They form a dynamic duo unlike any the star has ever seen. Mischief is their game and no quarry will escape their mark. When the time comes to present souvenirs from travel, Mors never fails to reveal Tataru's with a flourish and bow.
URIANGER — Reminds Mors a great deal of his deceased guardian. In that way, Urianger's company can be equal parts a source of comfort and pain. Even still, he's come to depend upon it.
ESTINIEN — Mors sees much of himself in Estinien. His penchant for wandering wheresoever the wind takes him on his lonesome is a bridge of understanding he can follow. Alphinaud's affairs and wellbeing are the topics of at least half of their conversations.
KRILE — A brightly lit beacon in a time otherwise wrought with uncertainty. They have enjoyed a fair few meals and idle talks—most of which to do with Minfillia, Alphinaud and G'raha.
MERLWYB — On rare occasions, they have bonded over their shared sense of cynical humor and troubled pasts.
ZENOS — The harbinger of Mors's most intimate hate and anger. To dance with him would be to die or deal death, but the prospect is no less enticing for it. Thankfully, a better part of him that recognizes the people and places he loves are much more worthy an investment. Haunting and undeniable remains the temptation.
EMET-SELCH — For better or for worse, Mors holds a great deal of fondness and admiration for him. Whether it's from their shared experiences or a consequence of the tincture to his soul is something he, quite frankly, has no interest in ruminating on. It makes no difference to the promises made. In heart and memory will he be kept. No legacies shall be squandered.
[ NOW THAT YOU'RE DONE ;
BRING OUT YOUR DEAD. ]
HYTHLODAEUS — ...
TO BE ADDED: Cid, Biggs, Wedge, Gaius, Zhai'a, Ysayle, Lucia, Edmont, Artoirel, Emmanellain, Matoya, Yugiri, Hien, Gosetsu, Yotsuyu, Midgarsomr, M'zhet, Khloe, Ryne, Lyna, Feo Ul, Ardbert, Gaia, Jesse and more!
