Name: Altair Delphinus|
Age: 51 (Does not include Mianorite extended time. Appears mid to late twenties.)
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Social Class: Commoner
Occupation: Wanderer, Soul seeker.
Voice: Gaius - Fire Emblem Awakening
After several events that have been thrown into motion, Altair seems to have developed somewhat, akin to a teenager hitting full adulthood. One of the changes marked in him is his height, having recently just topped 5'9", where before he was a little over five and a half feet. His skin is dark and smooth, and his hair is a tousled unruly mop of dark curls. Eyes of a rich golden hue sit below gently arched brows, offsetting his slightly crooked nose, and a naturally smiling mouth. He is usually clean shaven. More often of late his face holds no smiles but guarded hostility and a roughness earned from emotional stresses. His hands are calloused and roughened from honest labour, and though he has no visible piercings, he does have two peculiar scars tapering from his shoulder-blades almost down to his hips. These scars recently developed themselves as vicious wounds, opening wide and racking him with fever as the bone, muscle and tissue grew through them to form his wings.
The wings are large, the pinions easily brushing the floor when he moves. The colouration of the feathers are a deep royal blue touched with banding in black, gold and copper. Weak light often shows up an odd shifting pattern on each, like ripples and flecks of blue and gold light that catch on the edges of the filaments. The colour seems to change based on the strength of the light. The wings are now in their later stages of development and are sleek and smooth, whence they were once white and then brown, now they retain the blue and the gold is more prominent and quite magnificent when extended.
There is a peculiar mark on the back of his neck that developed when he grew the wings, the skin pale and raised like a scar in an intricate circular seal. This seal is the leftover result of his abilities and natural wings being suppressed in their growth. Those learned in magic may experience a mix of sensations on touching it, from an overwhelming fear, to love, and the origins are clearly some form of divine magic.
His clothes are generally eye-wateringly brightly coloured, and often clashing, made of varying materials, though more ragged and threadbare of late. He always wears a thin chain around his neck with a pendant bearing a crest of a bursting sun, which he has had since his parents found him. It appears to be made of solid silver, and his most valuable possession. Two rings adorn his left hand, a pewter one on his thumb, and a brass one on his middle finger. He also wears a blue hat, like a hood.
Weapons: A small knife for menial tasks.
Altair is a good natured soul, offering help freely to those who need it, and always willing to quip a joke or a smile. He considers himself as good as any noble, which has gotten him into trouble before for not holding the proper address to his 'betters' though it has not always been out of malice. He has a mischievous streak and loves to pull pranks, take risks or make cheeky remarks when he knows he can get away with it, and even when he won't. He is just as often wilful and stubborn, bullheaded and plain disrespectful when it suits him, proving that once angered he has a foul temper, a sharp tongue and becomes surly and uncooperative.
His eyes belie his age however, and though his exterior appearance is youthful, he has a sharp mind when it suits him to actually use it, more than his youthful appearance should allow. He is more than aware of the fairer sex of late, and after recent events his usual confident manner is somewhat absent. Keeping himself under control is another matter, and after just hitting full adulthood and growing out his wings, he finds himself more frustrated than ever that something as simple, or complicated, as a pretty girl can distract him so easily from his goals.
He has taken to behaving in a sort of world-weary manner, until one can get past it, and has developed a distinct hatred for the roving bands of thieves and bandits that maraud around the countryside. He tries to be as open and friendly as he always was before his family were slaughtered, but finds it increasingly difficult and closes himself off more.
Altair grew up among a travelling troupe of tinkers, or gypsy's as they are otherwise known, and follows in their beliefs that he will do no violence under any circumstance, known as the 'Way of the Leaf.' His parents are not biological, but adoptive, and he knows as much though they have never said anything of it, as he grew up it became painfully obvious by his extended maturation, even throughout the Great Migration. Where his friends aged, found love, got married and outgrew most silly games, he was left behind, still a child. His parents found him in the woods after fervent prayer to the gods to deliver a child unto them, and named him for the star that he was apparently found under. He knows not much more than this but for their secret exchange of glances on the rare occasion that he broached the subject.
Both of his parents are well worn in years, and taught him to the best of their abilities so that he might survive well enough on his own, once they have gone and left him. He is aware all too clearly of their age in comparison to his own youthfulness, and takes painstaking care to fulfill each of their needs, demands or requests.
There is more than enough work being part of a troupe to keep him occupied, and to carry his mind away from such matters though, and though his parents grow frail, he still remains the same, slowly approaching full adulthood.
His family travel among a train of wagons between towns and villages, not always welcome as the reputation of 'thieving tinkers' precedes them. He often takes part in the open theater, and performing small tricks and feats of dexterity to impress the audiences.
His own personal dream is one of adventure, and despite spending most of his life on the road, he longs to be one of the knights in tales, rescuing princesses from dragons, and villages from evil curses. He knows such things will not come to pass however, as to do them would be to perform violence of a sort. Nobody ever expects the hero to be a brightly dressed man with nothing to his name but a sharp wit and quick hands.
For the most part he works with his mother as a herbalist, gathering raw ingredients and preparing them while she concocts the herbal treatments for their extended family, unless the troupe is planning a particular excursion into town or a village when he must help set up the show, perform, or offer himself out as a hired hand for any work available.
His parents as it is, are Mianorite and migrated to Elenlond some time after finding him, making him naturally, also Mianorite, which has put him at the butt of some prejudice on top of being a 'tinker' as well.
Whenever he has the option to break away on his own however, he does so and takes to wandering, and more often than not, causing trouble for someone, or himself.
Recently it has come to light that he still holds some resentment and anger for the actions of the Gods of Mianor, and the fall of their home, despite trying to lay it aside as his family does. He does not take it to a strongly personal level though, knowing that after meeting with the fallen deity of water, Shadow, that they had not foreseen the fall of Mianor and had at least tried to stop it.
His situation fell into dire straits when his troupe were destroyed between travelling from Kinaldi towards Ashoka, shortly after leaving the city. They were attacked by bandits, who after slaughtering the passive tinkers, took the wagons and several of the women and intended to pass themselves off as a roaming troupe with intent to steal, kidnap and generally con any they encountered.
Altair had been one of three youths sent to collect supplies at a nearby hamlet when the attack fell on the camp, and on returning turned to rage instead of grief. He stayed long enough to assist in burying the dead, and sending the single wounded survivor back towards the hamlet with the others and all of the money they had, promising that he would join them once the work of erasing the camp was complete. He did of course promptly vanish in hot pursuit of group, a reckless young man with no real aim or intention of what he would do.
What happened he has still not disclosed, even to the Wendat tribe who found him sometime later sunburned, starving and dehydrated, half buried in the shifting sands just beyond the scrubs of the Ashokan desert. Since that point, he has stayed and travelled with them until well after he was nursed back to health by the medicine woman. At the present he is simply making himself useful, and trying to stay occupied, that he doesn't have to think too hard about where he is going, or what he is doing, until he is ready to breach that unspoken barrier within himself again.
He reunited with Shadow, meeting her at the old abandoned Temple of Water, though before doing so he ended up coming into conflict with a frightening double of himself. The encounter left him wounded and bleeding out, having killed the copy of himself. It was only when Shadow stumbled on it, and thought that someone had killed him that he stepped forward into the light and made the predicament apparent.
They spent some time there while he recovered, talking of what had happened to his family, and after a time confessed the lingering feelings of his infatuation with her to her face. He saw his double again after apparently killing it, terrifying him again and pushing him to seek answers about it.
After that, he traveled with her back towards Soto, stopping to make a final trip back to the place where his family were murdered, and discarded the sword that he'd been carrying since.
They split at some point only to see one another again at the winter ball in Morrim, and he continued on to Soto, chasing the traces of his double again.
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