SNOWFALLCN

 001  I don't stand for bigotry of any kind. You can take your phobias and isms and shove it. I don't care for it. I don't want to participate in Fantasy racism either, please don't try to engage in that with me. Or anything else that's weird or illegal. 002  Lalafells are welcome to interact, but will be excluded from any NSFW content here. Please be 18+ when interacting, there will be the thirsty post occasionally but there's also the general things that happen in XIV... so y'know. If there is NSFW, it'll be tagged and with a read more line break, but if you don't want to see that go ahead and filter out: #⚠️ 『 𝗧𝗮𝗻𝗸 𝗕𝘂𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 ┊ usfw 』 003  This blog is multiship, but I only ship with chemistry. Do not try to force a ship with me. If you would like to ship, do reach out.

 004  I am willing to do roleplay in-game, but would much prefer to do something either on the blog OR through discord. You can ask me for it whenever you want and I'll be happy to hand it over. 005  Bane is a terse character, and is often rude or unfriendly at first, but just because he's like that doesn't mean that I'm like that. Character does not equal muse, blah blah blah. I'm sorry if he's too mean at times but that's not me attacking you or your character. He just sucks sometimes. 006  This is for funsies, a little hobby, and if you're not having fun anymore then I'm not having fun anymore. If you want to drop a thread, or not respond to something then please do not feel obligated to.

 007  I'm in Dawntrail and caught up with the current patch. HOWEVER, that doesn't mean that I won't write with you if you're behind or new to the game. I will tag things past Heavensward, that is all. 008  Crossovers are more than welcomed here.I don't do passwords, but thanks for taking the time to read this.

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STATS

NAME: Bane Hellebore
Caradoc HirschNICKNAME/ALIAS: the Warrior of Light, Bane Hellebore, etc.AGE: 30DATE OF BIRTH: 10/17/1548GENDER & PRONOUNS: Trans-man, He/HimORIENTATION: Pansexual / DemiromanticRACE: Midlander HyurNATIONALITY: Ishgardian/ShroudfolkJOBS: WAR(ARR-EW), DRG(DT) & BTN

PHYSICAL

HEIGHT: 5’11”WEIGHT: 162 lbs.HAIR: Salt and pepper.EYES: Robin's egg blue.SCARS: A-fucking-lot of them.PIERCINGS: --TATTOOS: --FACE CLAIM: IGM.

PERSONALITY

POSITIVE TRAITS:
- Chivalrous
- Brash
- Kind
- ObservantNEUTRAL TRAITS:
- Aggressive
- Stubborn
- Outspoken
- BrusqueNEGATIVE TRAITS:
- Sardonic
- Cynical
- Resentful
- ImpulsiveMBTI: ISFP-TTEMPERAMENT: Bane has ever only had to look out for himself for the longest time. His survival above others own was all that he cared for, and at times it still is, if not because of what it means if he doesn't. The hero of the realms, Eorzea's Champion, etc. He needs to live so that others may not die, so that there is a tomorrow to look forward to, and then some. He has begun to take pride in it now that he has come so far, yet to be stopped or deterred by any person or thing that has tried. Before becoming the Warrior of Light, before ever achieving that mantle it was only ever for himself out of spite. If I'm to die, I'm taking you with me, which would lead to why he's covered in as many scars as he is. Oh, how they ravage his body.As they are trophies, they are reminders of his close calls with death. Something he fears, like it or not. Yet, he never tells anyone about it— or about anything that may or may not be bothering him. He has to be the epitome of strength, the one to weather all. This almost obsessive desire has been the very bane to ostracize himself from all that would want to come close, or that have tried. If only to not let them down. And so he endures, taking all that he can and them some.But he does not shy away from it. The struggle, the dance to prove that he is alive. It is what he lives for.

BACKGROUND

PARENTS:
- Sylfur Stahl
- Adrian HirschSIBLINGS:
- Tristan HirschSIGNIFICANT OTHER:
- Engrevain l'OrgueilleuxOTHERS:
- otherPETS: Hawthorne(Chocobo)OCCUPATION: Adventurer, Scion of the Seventh Dawn, etc.HOMETOWN: The South Shroud, No Man's Hovel(formerly)CURRENT RESIDENCE: The Empyreum, Ishgard, Coerthas.LANGUAGES: Common tongueACCENT: British

OTHER

NEURODIVERGENCES & DISORDERS:
- Astraphobia
- c-PTSDPHYSICAL DISABILITIES / CHRONIC ILLNESSES:
- Chronic StressPOWERS / ABILITIES:-   The Echo   while not possessed with the ability to control it, he can catch glimpses of an individual's past, or of things that happened recently.-   Hydaelyn's Blessing   immune to aetheric tempering caused by primals.

BIOGRAPHY

His name was Caradoc Hirsch, back to when he was claimed by a noble house of Ishgard. His father, a viscount had fallen in love with a low born... a huntress outside of his proud city whilst betrothed to another noble within the Holy See. He loved her, but not enough to call off the marriage to the woman he had been given. Distraught that he would rather keep to his nobility than to run away to be with her, the huntress fled from Coerthas altogether and descended into the Black Shroud. The huntress gave birth to his child, and raised him by herself in the woods, but she did not forget the man she had once loved. They would trade letters between one another.Meanwhile, she would teach her son all that she could, because not long after his birth she had fallen ill. Her body was not as strong as it once was, and the remedies she used did little to cure the ailment she had. Her time was not long, and so she had to do what she could to provide for her boy. So, she wrote a letter— a final letter to be delivered once she died—, that would summon her lord lover to collect the child so that he would have someone to look after him. She told her son this, but he could never leave her side. He vowed that he would become strong enough to protect the both of them... but he was just a child. Still did he quake and shiver when lightning flashed across the sky, and still did he grow weary when he heard the cries of the beastkin outside their home.He couldn't bring himself to accept that one day, she might be gone... that he would still need her to calm him down and to brush his hair when all seemed too much to bear in the dark of night. But as he grew, he had to accept this, her condition worsened and her skin paled. When he would run out to play in the fields, she had collapsed in trying to meet him. He had seen his twelfth winter then, as someone came upon them, bringing them back to their home. She would spend her final moments there, laying on the bed, holding his hand as he wept. He had pleaded for her to not go, but alas... it was not enough to keep her in this world. He stayed with her body for quite sometime, crying himself to sleep beside her, and still he remained until the flies started buzzing about her.He buried her at long last, then sent the letter to be delivered to his father. It was his ticket to a better life, so he had hoped, but in waiting did he begin to resent the man in full. Why couldn't he have been here from the start? If he were, then she might not have died. He might not have to be alone... but now it was time to see if all of her lessons would prove fruitful at last. The letter was received by his lord father, but by then he had already began a family of his own with a wife and child to boot. Still occupied by the dragonsong war, he had his attention elsewhere... and to think that his beloved had finally died... he could not bear to think about it. So he placed it in the back of his mind, all while his bastard in the Shroud fended for himself.Purposefully, he waited. A part of him hoped that the boy would be able to survive without the need of him or his mother. But he could wait no longer when his mistress happened upon the letter some two years after he had received it. Infuriated that he had an affair, she demanded that he take accountability, that he ought to pay his respects. Dread consumed him wholly as he made the descent himself with baited breath. When he arrived, he found his son, scrawny and run ragged. If only he had kept waiting... just a bit longer and the wilds would have claimed him too.He wanted to feel disdain for him, but upon truly gazing into those sunken young eyes, a shame fell upon him. The boy looked just like his mother, and for the first and last time, Caradoc was embraced by his father. He felt relief wash over him, to finally be rescued, to be saved from his fate. Soon though did that fade when he was taken to Ishgard. He had glimpsed the luxury that his father and his wife had been afforded, all while him and his mother slept on straw beds and contended with nature. They lived in a grand house, high above the Foundation, with marble floors and servants spanning down the halls. All of which he and his mother could've had, all this time. But he lost it when he saw a fat little boy walking towards his father, with fiery curls and a freckled complexion. His son.His son that he had this whole time, a brother. He had a brother.It would be one of the first betrayals he would experience in his life, and one he would hold dear to him for a long while. But when he had acquainted himself with the lavish home and its inhabitants, he vowed that he would seek vengeance for himself and his mother. He would take all that he could from them, taking his pain out on them, taking his sorrow out on them, who knew nothing but this luxury. Quickly did he make use of the new resources at his disposal, and attempted to learn and acclimate to his new environment. However, he was unable to be cordial with his family or the nobles he would have to live alongside. His detestment was felt with his every stride, but none felt it more than his brother. His hatred accumulated to spite, taking any and every opportunity to knock him down.The poor boy couldn't understand why his half brother seemed to loathe him, and soon did they regret taking him into their home. His step-mother thought it would be a kindness to do so, charity, but soon she too began to hate the child that haunted their home. Such would persist to the point where Caradoc was isolated by his peers out of fear rather than respect, as he was wont to respond to their critique of his character in violent outbursts, verbal or otherwise. "You have to do something about that boy, Adrian", she had whispered to him, unaware that he was within earshot. "He should have never been born...", he had whispered back. Their conversation drove him over the edge. Even if he had wanted to cause them naught but misery, he was still a boy.A boy who grieved his mother, a boy who had wanted to be loved, who deserved to be loved... only to be abandoned by his father. A father who did not want him here. In desperation, he approached his brother then, and proposed to him an idea. "I will challenge you to a duel. If I am the victor, you will leave this place and never return... but if you win, then I will leave", and though he was uncertain, he accepted if not to rid his House of its bully. "Tell everyone. Tell them to gather around", so he did. Upon hearing that his son was entering a duel, did Adrian and his wife arrive to bear witness, watching as Caradoc donned an axe and his brother took to a sword and shield. Trembling.He was afraid to lose, that he would be banished. Still, he fought on, and his brother was nothing but cruel. Each blow from the axe shook the steel beneath him, the ferocity drove him back as the spectators looked on. He was going to kill him, he was going to kill that boy. "Stop him, stop him at once!", came the shrill cry of his wife as Adrian looked on with terror in his heart. It wasn't until Tristan had fell, his foot caught on a stone that he felt himself grow cold. Before he could make sense of himself he had shouted."Don't you dare", he had shouted, "Don't you dare kill my boy"Not your brother. My boy, he had shouted. And it was then, that he had decided that it would matter precious little if he won the duel at all. There was nothing for him here. If there was a fortune and a warm bed to be had, he suddenly did not want it. Because it would have been as empty as the name bestowed upon him. Caradoc withdrew from the duel, spitting upon his brother while he was down. "He doesn't need to die today... I'll do it some other time", he warned, tossing his axe to the side and beginning to leave this place behind. They could only watch in silence as he walked out the gates, taking nothing with him. Rejected by all and everyone, Caradoc left Coerthas for the Shroud, and unable to face his mother, he would leave ever further from the place that was supposed to be his home.Journeying on a ship to Limsa Lominsa, he would begin anew. Reborn with a new name, with no attachments, he would live his life as far away from his father and his family as space would allow. Unbeknownst of what would come for him thereafter.

IMPORTANT PORTRAYAL NOTES

VERSES

  The Warrior     Main Verse.  In which he is the Warrior of Light.


  Wayward Son    Secondary Verse.  In which he never leaves Ishgard, rising as a conniving blue blood, hoping to usurp his father one day.


  The Marauder    Tertiary Verse.  In which he is but a humble adventurer and aid to the Scions of the Seventh Dawn.


  The Epilogue   Post-MSQ.  After all has been said and done, the axe has been retired and a new chapter in his life awaits. One that does not require him to assist any realm or prevent a calamity.