Bio

Name: Kitsure Ariat (Kitsure of the Golden Flame)

Race/Class: Half-Elf, Wizard (Asian)
Age/Birthday: 17 years, the 42nd of Phallonice
Height/Weight: 5’2”, 100 lbs.
Gender/Sexual Preference: Male, Men

Physical appearance: Petite and short, his skin is fair, but healthy. His hair is naturally black, like his father’s was, but he dyes it to rebel against his family’s decission and to keep him hidden (funny enough). His eyes are the color of warm honey, his face naturally angular from his father’s asian decent. The only very elven thing about his face is the slightest point at the tip of his ears, each of which hold three golden earings. He doesn’t smile very often, and while he usually keeps his smiles small or hidden, when he laughs hard and grins, you can see the cutest dimples framing his mouth. He has very soft skin because of how often he bathes and what he washes with— he also usually smells faintly of vanilla and honey, which helps to keep his hair soft and managable. He isn’t especially strong physically, and it shows with his body. However, he does walk a lot and quickly when he does, which over the years has given him very nice legs.

Little Nothings: Some of the more amusing traits Kitsure posesses.

• He is accidentally physical, meaning he doesn’t realize or think about it. He’s very comfortable with touching another’s shoulder if he’s looking over something they’re doing, or touching someone’s arm to see if they’re alright. Growing up around women may have had something to do with that, but little touches, little reassurences come quite naturally to him.
• He has an unreasonable sweet tooth, finding it very difficult to turn down cookies, candies, cakes, pies, tarts, etc. He’s especially weak for chocolate, a specialty his oldest sister was known for back home. It’s actually a destination point for him when he makes it to a new town.
• He is very bad at lying about simple things. He can make up amazing, long lies that just go on and on, but it’s the little things that trip him up. Bad. Anything from ‘Who ate the last cookie?’ to ‘why is everything in the library suddenly alphabetized backwards’ and he stumbles over creativity and the fact that he needs to think this up quick.
• He is a morning person, above all else. He can stay up until four in the morning, but he’ll be up at six with a smile and biscuts in the over like clockwork. Of coarse, he’’s also a very religious beleiver in Naps. He wakes up in a good mood most every day (those bad days are something to be feared…).
• He is easy to fluster about certain things. Sexual advances, flirtatious people, and being asked about himself and his life are easy ‘Instant Access’ passes to a flustered wizard. He gets embarrassed about it, too, making him blush quite a bit, but he can occassionally think of something witty to counteract it all and surprise the assailant.

Likes:

• Cold weather
• Being included in almost anything
• Baking, especially sweets things
• Being alone at night to sort his thoughts
• Singing to himself or Koda
• Preparing the day’s spells
• The ‘Desguise Self’ spell
• Mending clothes (makes him feel useful)
• Making hats and hoods (it’s a hobby)

Dislikes:

• Getting/Being wet (especially wet shoes)
• Dogs
• Being pulled from a good book
• Happily married people
• Not morning people
• Drunkards and alcohol.
• Cooking, because he can’t.

History: From the very beginning, Kitsure was considered different. His mother, Cilivren, who had already had two children, thought so as soon as he was birthed without shedding a single tear. He came out with those big eyes curious as ever and already taking in this entire world around him. He was quiet as a mouse, and would sit for hours listening to his father talk about the places he’d been and the people he’d seen. He didn’t start speaking until he was almost three, but could read books by age five. His father’s disappearence didn’t appear to have hurt him at first, but over time it became obvious he was waiting, just like her. He would fall asleep in the chair Natsuo used to read to him in, or mumble things in his sleep. More then once, she’d found him trying to recreate his father’s image in food, on paper, and occasionally trying to conjure up his image using magic far too advanced for a child so young.

He started school when he was five as well, only 3 months after his father’s “death”, and the teasing started that very first day when the teacher, an Elven man by the name of Lafarallin, pointed out that the Ariat family line certainly had a way with producing beautiful little girls. Oops. From that day on, he was teased for being a girl, boys constantly shoving at him or trying to, like little boys do, prove that he didn’t have boy parts. It was humiliating even at that age, having your hair pulled by the person behind you, washing gum from where it’d been stuck to his hair, being kicked out of the boys bathroom because he ’wasn’t supposed to be in there’. As he grew older, the teasing escalated from childish antics, to teasing him about his hair color and length, about how he had the body of a women or saying he had breasts. When the kids in class got stronger they’d try to force him into dresses or put make up on him— all of which he kept secret from his mother. She never would’ve found out if “The Incident” hadn’t occurred. When he was 8, a half-elf boy in the next class up (he was 9), Gunter Ghembry, had cornered Kitsure on his way home with his friends and relayed the fact that his older brother told him that a woman had certain things they had to perform for a man. Kitsure fought hard, but before anything serious happened, he lost control and in a burst of frantic energy that was impossible for anyone in the city to not notice, he found himself free and standing, the bodies of the four boys around him on the ground— twitching, foaming out the mouth with eyes wide and full of nothingness.

Three of the boys woke up a week later, but couldn’t remember anything. Gunter laid in a coma for almost six years after, an incident the Ghembry family still holds a solid grudge against Kitsure for. When he finaly woke, not only did he remember no one, but he remembered nothing. He didn’t even know how to speak… For the years that followed the incident, Kitsure of Alienated from his classmates. To consule himself, he would spend hours in the library, reading— Just reading. He’d read anything if he’d learn from it, and taught himself languages just because he had the time. His sisters loved listening to him talk about the things he’d learned in a book, and savored every minute they had together. He rarely regailed his mother with the stories, for fear of unearthing memories more memories of his father.

At about ten years old, his mother finally realised just how much of an effect his father had on the boy when she walked in one morning to find Kitsure’s usually tidy room in utter chaos. Her son sat on the floor beside his bed in tears and quickly rushed forth to aid her child, who’d never— ever— cried without solid reason. When she asked what was the water, he clung to her and released the most sorrowful sob before confessing that he had forgotten. She was confused for only a moment before she realized that what was around the room were all of the family photo albums. He confirmed her thought process with one short, sad sentence, “I can’t remember his face.” To this day, Kitsure hasn’t been able to remember the face of his father, and it pains him greatly, forgetting the man he’d loved so much for those few years they were together.

When he was twelve, Kitsure was summoned by the Ariat Family Elder for tea. They sat for hours and hours talking. Just, talking. Kitsure listened and absorbed ever bit of information the man divulged, about the people he’d seen come to town and what he’d seen in his life on the Twin Moon Islands, but other places as well. Kitsure told him stories of things he’d read, of places he’d love to see and experience. Before their meeting came to a close, the Elder motioned for Kitsure to come close, hugging him and slipping something into his hand. “A top secret mission,” he had said. “Special just for you, my great little wizard. Go with care, and bring a batch of your homebaked cookeis next time.” After calming his mother and telling her everything was fine, he opened the scroll to find a map and parchment written in Draconic, just for him, about a treasure he should find on the volcanic island East of there. He left in the night after much preperation, and by means of bribery, managed a trip to and from the hard-to-reach island for a hefty sum of money, a quarter of which would get him there— the rest due in full upon returning (just like the elder had mentioned in the note). Once there, he fought his way through the dry island on untraveled feet. Sore and tired, worse for wear and very dirty, Kitsure made it to the edge a specific volcano. The ground was still warm beneath him, a very unsettling feeling, since the volcano had errupted only days before. As he walked, he felt something tugging deep inside his chest. Before he realized, he was walking in a different direction, following that feeling as curious people often did. Reaching a little area of thich, crumbled rocks, he thought he heard something. Not outloud, but in his head. He shoved the rocks aside, grunting as he worked hard and suddenly unearthed a large, black hole in the ground. A black cloud of soot and smog billowed out, sending him backwards, coughing before something kitten-sized flew right into his face. You bet he freaked out, screaming in surprise and trying to scramble away. The little creature did the same thing, thumping on the ground and waddle-running back for the hole. First thing Kitsure did was lunge after it, catching it’s leg to get it to stop. The creature was small with a very long tail, bluish-purple in some parts, red in others with the most mesmerizing golden eyes and wings white as pearls. The creature coughed a ball of soot back in his face, making his stop, wheezing and coughing and trying to clear his now watering eyes. The little creature suddenly released a little sound, something akin to, “mrr?” It looked at the half elf, and Kitsure realized it was very cute. He went to touch it, but the bugger was very quick to snap a mouth foll of small, very sharp teeth right onto his finger. He whimpered, biting his tongue to not cry out in pain before telling the little guy, “s’not so… bad…” The creature released after a moment, licking the wound he’d made bleed before nuzzling the hand and getting all up in the kids’ space, cute and comfortable as could be. He was dubbed Koda on the way back to the boat and hasn’t left his side since. Even when his mother, in a worried fit after her son had vanished for two days, insisted he take it back.

As Kitsure got older, he would occassionalyy leave the city on trips with one or both of his sisters upon their insistance. Once they got out and on their way he was fine and fun. When Kitsure was 13, nearing 14, his middle sister, Kaitlyn, dragged him out to a neighboring town to get out of the city and escape her husband’s overly-niceness, as she put it. What she failed to mention was that she had plans that night with someone in the neighboring town. She meeting up with a couple of old friends in a tavern and brought her little brother along as an excuse. One of these friends brought with her a human man named Alexander Fletcher. A single human man. Even more, a single human man who swung a different way then any of the elves openly confessed in Uthvana. Kitsure was introduced to a lot of things that night. Alcohol, flirtation, homosexuality and oral sex. And once all that had been introduced, Aiden took him out for more to drink in hopes of teaching him something more… personal. Lucky for the redhead, sister caught him heaving his stomach on the side of a different tavern and saved the day. To present day, he stays as far away from alcohol as possible. Things didn’t necissarily change for him that night, nothing new was brought to the surface, anyway. However, the fact that he had always been different, and never once thought about doing what he’d done with Alex with a woman suddenly made very clear sense.

By age 15, Kitsure had yet to change the way he was. He still spent a lot of time learning, reading and practicing wizardry. He loved it and prefered the library to his own hime. He’d never once lead his mother to believe that he liked the same sex— he’d kept it very much to himself since before he “came-out” with himself, but mother’s are inevitably good at finding things out and acting on them instantly. Kitsure need only glance once at a passing stranger on an outing for her to call the council and request a marriage be arranged immediately. By the following week, Kitsure had a letter in the mail Congratulating him on his betrothal to on Miss Faewen Surion, And Elvan woman 40 years older than himself, who would be arriving from Alnora before long to be his bride. He felt betrayed at first, then very sorry and guilty. He told his oldest sister, Isciira, who was happily married with several children first. She congratulated him and then went on to tell him how wonderful it was to have someone there, how much she loved her family, blah blah blah and that she would be a lovely woman and they would have a lovely family. He kept that conversation short before running to Kaitlyn to ask for her thoughts. Her eyes went huge, hands clasped to his frail shoulders before she said, very seriously, “Run.” She regailed him on how it was the worse thing to ever happen to anyone, how he would be misserable and never love anything ever again. She begged him to run away, cuddled him a bit, fed him sweets and hugged him close as could be. “Oh, Kitsure… It’s just not right. Not right for someone like you… There’s a man waiting for you somewhere, I just know it.” He was just as surprised to hear that…

It was only two days later, in his sulking attitude sitting at the library and flipping through the pages of a upside down book, that a very strange man plopped down in the seat across from him, leaning over the table. He had a curious look in those wise old eyes, and his bowtie was crooked. Upon further inspection, Kitsure realized not only was it crooked, but it didn’t make sense with the clothing we was wearing. The book slipped form his hold and floated upside down right in front of the strange fellow. He read for a moment, making a thoughtful sound before it floated back down upside down and he said, “You know, that is a much more interesting read when it’s upside down.” He propped his feed up on the table, leaned back in his stool and watched the kid a moment before he grinned with knowing eyes and said, “… I hear you’re looking to skip town. I have an airship, and, before you say yes, I can bake up a mean batch of cookies.”

Kitsure ran away from the Uthvana and the Twin Moon Islands without another word, traveling with ‘Master’ Firian awhile before settling down in Taran until a party of particularly… Strange people arrived and he was sent off to join them.