CARRD IS A WORK IN PROGESS :3cOh, it's him. A wince here, an ear flutter here, a tail swing there. A measure of thought between each beat. Unimposing. Hasn't he noticed you?Normal enough, then. You step up to booth and introduce yourself. The merchant smiles and retrieves your goods. While she leaves, he hoists three or four crates up to his chest. He laughs a goodbye. Calm stride, you notice. Erratic tail, but sure footing.He's like a passing ghost, here in Ishgard. Quite at home, considering this place filled with ghosts already—and more to come, you imagine, overhearing the anxious whispers about war collateral throughout the city. You set your coin on the table, and dig into your pouch to look for tax. They've been rising damn quickly lately...It's sudden, the force behind you. When you look over your shoulder, it's him. His hair obscures his eyes, messy, and he has that shitty laugh of a smile on again. You feel the ghost of his hand on your back, and you're ready to kill, but he mutters a sorry for almost losing his feet. He's set a pouch on the stand in front of you and the keep. "Almost forgot."The merchant stares after halfheartedly, but it's one of those looks peppered with bemusement, or maybe playful disdain. The pouch clacks against wood as she slides it toward her. Then she looks at you, and says, "All covered," with a full smile. And he's gone as quickly as he arrived.Maybe it pisses you off and you insist on paying out of your own pocket, or maybe you take it in stride. Maybe there's a shiver or two as his ears twist and turn. Either way, when you see him again, and again, and again, it's with the street-kids one day and royalty another.So, you forget about him. You pay no attention to the new buildings rising each evening, to the dragons beginning to obscure the sky, to his figure dragging himself to the Cathedral, bloodied, in the night.Because, you'd rather not chase after ghosts— right?
WHAT'S HIS DEAL?
work in progress :3cIntent doesn't change the color of blood, and that's alright. He becomes an active player.
personality
surface level
Easygoing, perceptive, but capricious in his decisions. New friends may find him charming and easy, or rude and flippant. People either think they know him intimately, or they find him hard to understand. They usually know him just enough.Paying attention will show a more attentive, decisive, and surprisingly firm side, underneath the jokes and passing conversations.
“Why!?” Soleil yells, "Running after him like that was so...!" She has a gash on her face, not unlike the one she healed many years ago during the war, though this one is more misaligned; jagged, deeper. Still oozing.The memory pulses and dips, detailing events previously wiped clean on his slate. Frey thinks he sees her, piercing through the center mass, bloody and wretched. He couldn't remember clearly. What a gamble. Maybe that’s why he felt prickly all over – just adrenaline.“I don’t know,” Frey mutters, flexing one hand. Soleil moves to wrap it. “Guess I had something left to say.”
deep level
Activated. He's drawn toward high-octane situations that wipe his thoughts, favoring movement and unburdened expression. This is where he could be seen as capricious: it's a sudden and inexplicable decision, to throw himself in the center of it all.His brother would call him arrogant, but be next to him. His sister wouldn't be. His father would've caused the issue.If you want to know something, you might not learn if you ask the first, second, or third time, but you might learn if you watch.
writing
haha. coming soon.
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