Himalbraena "Algol" Saesraensyn

Basic Information

- Age: Chronologically somewhere in his early thirties, physically somewhere in his forties- Race: Sea Wolf Roegadyn/Voidsent- Gender: Feasibly Male (He/Him Pronouns, may respond to They/Them)- Sexuality: Homosexual- Marital Status: Unknown- Server: Goblin - Crystal- Voice Claim: Fujii Hayato※ Also, here's some writing samples, so you can see what Algol's character is like

Additional Information

- Alignment: Hovering somewhere between Chaotic Good and Chaotic Neutral- Profession: Astrology Professor (publicly), Occasional Adventurer and Hero (secretly)- Hobbies: Studying and Academic Research, Combat Training, Reading, Sex and Flirting, Cooking for the people he loves and keeping them safe- Languages: Possesses the Echo, so he understands all languages. Otherwise fluent in Common Eorzean and Hingan- Residence: Ishgard, in an apartment whose proportions don't quite seem to match its floor plans.- Birthplace: Limsa Lominsa- Religion: Actively irreligious, and convinced that a God that isn't omnipotent and omniscient is little better than a particularly strong primal- Fears: Deep-seated triggering fear of powerlessness and loss, caused by trauma. Additional fear of abandonment and being left behind by those he loves. Otherwise, burning his food.

Relationships

- Mother: Keimbryda Styrihimalwyn (Sharlayan Sea Wolf Roegadyn, Alive)- Father: Adkiragh Qestir (Xaela Au Ra that descended from emigrants from the Steppe, Alive)- Spouse: (maybe) An Ishgardian noble from a small house whose identity he deliberately keeps a secret while out and about

Abilities

- Combat prowess: An incredibly proficient fighter. He blends Astrology, Black Magic, and something that is clearly not earthly magic into his fighting. When trying to conceal his identity and power, he usually holds his power back and only acts with simple Astrology and Thaumaturgy, but if push comes to shove he is not afraid of curbstomping the enemy. Plays a lot with star plasma explosions, black flame, and gravity, and is capable of opening portals to summon forth familiars - the heads of lions and oxen, and destructive magical beams. Prefers to fight from a distance, and, even though he owns a magic rod, it's mostly for show, though he is capable of channeling energy into it to make a blade of energy appear at the top, to wield as a scythe. Can create swords of energy directly from his limbs as well.- Augmented Physical Abilities: His current state of existence grants him physical strength, agility and speed that goes beyond the limits of what a normal human should be able to achieve - far past that which would organically be possible with the kind of build he possesses.- Echo: Witnessing the fall of Dalamud and Bahamut's Teraflare has granted him the Echo. Whenever he gets its visions, they are incredibly painful and oftentimes incapacitating.- Voidsent Absorption: Algol has a vested interest in roaming the realm and slaying Voidsent, both to keep people safe and to absorb their might. The aether they dissipate into is something he can absorb, to amplify his power. Obviously, this makes him vulnerable to any anti-Voidsent magics and measures.- Succubus Morphology: Part of his powers via Astarte, due to an aspect she has, is being able to feed upon people's aether via sex. If he wanted to, he could drain a person completely during intercourse, but he isn't interested in killing people just because, so he usually only takes a small bit - the other person might feel a teensy bit more tired than usual. He can also feed on aether via drinking blood or consuming flesh, but he isn't keen on doing that most of the time - too messy and also deadly.- Aetherial Sensitivity: He has a keen sensitivity to aether and the aspecting of people and creatures, so he can detect aetherial flows and the presence of life before it appears before his other senses, like sight and sound. He is particularly sensitive to light-aspected creatures and people, being dark-aspected himself.- Cuisine: He's a pretty good cook, for some reason. Ask him to cook something for you.

Physical Appearance

- Hair: Black, with white tips after about the 3/4 point, very lightly wavy, usually tied into a bun while at work, parted at the side and flowing down to his mid-back otherwise- Eyes: Violet- Height: 8'0 in his standard human presentation- Face: Shows wrinkles on the corners of his eyes. Has a serious gaze, and his eyebrows make him look a mixture of serious and bored most of the time. Has a full beard.- Build: Impressively bulky and muscular, with an ample chest, wide shoulders, powerful thighs, and a solid midsection. Not ripped - he is definitely developing a bit of a dad gut at the bottom of his belly, though you can still see abs around the top. Plump and soft. Pale grey skin, with a neat layering of black body hair all over his body, kept neatly trimmed and maintained. Pierced nipples, with black, barbell-type piercings.- Clothing: Usually seen wearing black pants, black boots, a grey shirt, a belt wrapped around his torso under his chest, two belts wrapped around his thighs, and a black leathery coat on top, with a necklace hanging from his neck, the pendant falling midway down his chest. When at work, the shirt and coat are neatly buttoned to complement his immaculate appearance - when out and about, the coat is usually thrown wide open and the top of the shirt is unbuttoned, to give sight of his cleavage. On warmer climates, tends to change out the coat and grey shirt for a black shirt made of a lighter fabric, but it's otherwise worn the same. All his clothes are tailored neatly to his frame - he taught himself how to do it. Wears glasses with thick black frames. Wears a silvery ring on his left ring finger. Occasionally on days off can be spotted donning black tank tops. When performing his anonymous adventuring gigs and heroic deeds, dons a full body form-fitting armor in black, with metallic gloves, boots, and a mask to cover his face, his hair otherwise flowing free.- Additional Features: He is not human anymore. He deliberately suppresses his demonic essence most of the time, such that he fits into the regular population, but when he doesn't, his sclerae are black and his irises glow, he has sharp canines, a longer-than-usual tongue roughly a foot in length, black horns protruding from the sides of his head not unlike a bovine's, a long black serpentine tail that reaches his ankles, and glowing violet tattoos running across his whole body, face included.

(art done by @MakidoTsukashi (NSFW)/@Makidodrawings on Twitter)

Identity

There are many words that can be (and have been) used to describe Algol's personality and demeanor, and very few of them are flattering. He leads a triple life, becoming different people whether he is at work, out and about, or performing anonymous good deeds while clad in full-body armor.At work, as a Scholasticate professor, he is a consummate, strict and stern professional, that maintains his tenure and position of authority within the Astrology Department via projecting an image of authority and unshakability. He never smiles, never displays any emotion outside of seriousness or vague, low-level anger, and appears completely disinterested in any social goings-on among his colleagues and students, being at work just for the sake of focusing on work. Uptight to an unpleasant fault. He is in equal parts feared and respected by his students, and occasionally hated by some of his colleagues, but he deliberately plays political games within the organization, knowing a bit too much about everyone for them to try and take any sort of action against him, ensuring that he retains his position of power. This doesn't mean he is an unjust teacher - just studying properly and turning up to his tests and labs, and showcasing clear effort, are enough to earn passing grades, and he clearly appreciates and admires effort put in by his most dedicated students, who he respects. He is also a thesis tutor, known for his strict exacting standards, that produce the most competent professionals upon surviving his tutoring process. He specifically teaches a more secular, Sharlayan form of Astrology, rooted in science and calculations, much to the chagrin of traditionalists within his department that are, at the same time, powerless to do anything to stop him.Sometimes, some of his best, most handsome male students, usually those close to graduation (and always those that are consenting adults, obviously) stay late at his office for what are supposedly private tutoring sessions, and after a few hours walk out with their uniforms messy and walking funny. Some people at the Scholasticate have noticed. Nobody asks any questions. It's best not to ask.Off work, when he is out and about, he is a completely different person. The moment he clocks out of work, his hair goes down, his coat flies open, and he spreads the cleavage of his shirt, becoming a sleazy, flirty, and fundamentally untrustworthy presence, that is prone to flirting with any man he finds attractive, regardless of race or social status. He projects an image of confidence that isn't exactly undue, given his apparent social standing and power, but which sometimes gets him into trouble if he decides to get too clever with the wrong person. He doesn't really care, either way. Talking to him can end up being a perturbing experience, since he speaks with a wisdom past his apparent years, always sounding like he is holding secrets, shrouded in an air of mystery, usually coming off as someone that knows something you don't. If you're male (and an adult), he can and will try to get into your pants. He often walks back home (or, let's be real, into alleys and hidden nooks in nature) with a different men each time. He exudes sex, sleaze and confidence in a way some people find quite alluring, and some others find menacing and unsettling, but that's the life he leads. It gets to the point men around him sometimes find themselves unwittingly thinking about sex, purely from the way he carries himself, speaks, flaunts his body and signals to anyone and everyone around him that he is available.This version of Algol is, at the same time, the most cruel and ruthless of all of them. Above all else, he projects an image of dominance, and anyone that decides to cross him usually meets an unfortunate fate - sometimes by his hand, sometimes by seemingly no reason at all. Those that try to pry too hard and deep into his humanity, especially without first gaining his trust, are at the greatest danger. An untrustworthy, silver-tongued manipulator that has the power to back up his confidence.Outside of these two modes of existence, there is a third one that he goes to great pains to ensure cannot be tied to him whatsoever. Sometimes, off work, he dons a set of full body, skintight armor that conceals his face, and goes under the name Lord Bael, for the sake of being able to undertake adventuring gigs and perform anonymous good deeds for cash and what appears to be goodwill. These good deeds aren't morally clean, however - he is not above theft or murder of his targets at all, if that's what becomes necessary to achieve his goals. While being Bael, he is quiet, goal-oriented, and keeps to himself. He is direct, cutting, and not above making threats if it ensures he can get whatever it is that he wants.He sometimes has sex as Bael too. If it happens, it happens, and some people are into the masked anonymous hero in skintight clothing thing.Beneath the images he projects on purpose, his life experiences have left him an incredibly jaded pessimist. Managing to peel past the first layer of his presentation, he is clearly embittered, serious, and can manage to be aggressive. At a fundamental level, he is a tired, cranky, and embittered old man that never feels fully comfortable being himself or being around others, given how much he needs to hide.Presenting a threat to his integrity, the secrets he harbors or the people he loves is a death sentence. It is just about the easiest way to drive him to action, and it almost universally has a bad result for the threat in question. Trying to betray him is a horrendous idea as well, and his trust is not easy to gain at all. Having kept people at arms' length for so long, he can very easily deal with people as expendable resources if necessary, and he isn't above dropping connections if they prove a hazard or untrustworthy.His past has left him with complete and utter disdain for unnecessary authority, and he doesn't care for respecting figures if it isn't completely necessary. In particular, he holds the Garlean Empire as a nation in complete and utter contempt, and would gladly see its leaders executed if he had his way. It's not as though he thinks all Garleans are bad, because he finds the notion ridiculous (particularly knowing of the Garleans hiding in Eorzea and just trying to survive or aiding the cause of the various resistance forces), but any kind of sympathy for the Empire is an easy way of landing on his bad side.For all his problems and ruthlessness, he is a fiercely and intensely loyal and loving person - he's just afraid of actually allowing himself to love and be loved. He will very gladly dote and provide for those he loves, giving them food and gifts, and showing his affection via tender gestures. Actually getting to this point is difficult, however. Those close to him get perfect protection from him.Still, it isn't entirely off-base to conclude he is a bit of a misanthrope. In his mind, there's a grand total of three good human beings - those being his parents and his spouse. Everyone else, he fears for their rejection and tries to stay away from. He's basically one good threat to his loved ones away from going fully over the edge and abandoning humanity, but his husband insists he needs to meet others and learn to enjoy life - to not abandon humanity fully and become the monster he's afraid he's perceived as anyways. He grows attached very easily, and tries to keep people away at the same time, because of how starved for affection he is - his life is a constant dilemma.He also struggles with feelings surrounding his humanity. He is consciously aware the things he's done have made him stop aging or ailing the way normal people do - or, in his words, "ancient gods are brought into existence without earthly attachments or rapidly learn to outgrow them, while I am on my first generation and will have to witness everyone I love grow old and die while I stagnate". It's something he tries not to think about too much, but it's always at the back of his head, and compounds with why he feels he's ruined himself.Maybe, at some point in the past, he may have felt bad about the fact he isn't human anymore. It's been long enough, however, that if people find out, he has stopped caring too seriously. He's had to dispose so many threats so many times that he's run out of any desire to fear being exposed. After all, what can anyone do to him? They're just as stuck as he is once they find out his reality.

Traits

Extroverted | In Between | Introverted
Disorganized | In Between | Organized
Close Minded | In Between | Open Minded
Patient | In Between | Impatient
Outspoken | In Between | Reserved
Leader | In Between | Follower
Empathetic | In Between | Apathetic
Optimistic | In Between | Pessimistic
Traditional | In Between | Modern
Hard-working | In Between | Lazy
Cultured | In Between | Uncultured
Loyal | In Between | Disloyal
Cautious | In Between | Reckless

Content warning for gore and death.

- The StartAlgol's parents met in Sharlayan and moved out of it and into Limsa Lominsa before they had him. Though he didn't get his upbringing in the seat of knowledge of the world, growing up surrounded by his mother's old tomes and research gave him an interest and respect for the act of researching.He was given the best kind of upbringing his parents could afford - a father that did adventuring here and there, and a mother that healed people in ther community. They had plenty to lead a stable, calm life, and Algol grew in relative comfort - they weren't rich, but they didn't want for anything either. Born Himalbraena Saesraensyn, his surname was one his mother came up with, since his father was clearly not a Sea Wolf and didn't have a name to take for Algol's surname. He adopted the nickname over time, for comfort and out of a lack of patience for people that didn't know how to pronounce Sea Wolf names - or refused to learn outright.The comfort of his life led him to not worry much for anything at all. Even though his parents wanted him to learn some sort of combat discipline, for self-defense purposes, the stagnation of his routine led him to not take his studies seriously. Even though he picked up thaumaturgy, he didn't become good at it - or even passable, really.
- The CalamityAlgol's parents were among the many that fought in the Battle of Carteneau, with terrible results. Algol wasn't allowed to come - there was no way they'd let their child fight alongside them, even if he was actually good at magic. The descent of the second moon, Dalamud, loomed closer and closer, and, staring through the windows of his house, Algol saw the bright red fall towards the star. He couldn't really bear it, but there was nothing else he could do. Anxiety gnawed away at him, as he started beating himself up for skimping on his studies - maybe he'd be able to offer some kind of help if he'd taken them seriously.And then, the calamity occurred.Awakening in the aftermath, he walked out into a world fraught with disaster and tearing apart at the seams. He found only his mother, with his father nowhere to be found. Even his mother was only arguably there in the physical sense of the word - in the middle of a field surrounded by corpses she couldn't heal in life, with memories of a husband she could no longer find or even sense. In a half-catatonic state, she hardly reacted as Algol found her.He was left to confront the reality of that which he couldn't protect, and it was the first of many realities that would drive him to the edge.- The SearchEven though the easiest assumption was that his father was dead, Algol refused to accept it. Allowing his mother to recover slightly, he embarked on a journey across the realm to look for him with her in tow. It's then that he picked up adventuring as a discipline, and he started honing his skills in part.This did him no good. Seeing the state of his world, he could only think of how he could have helped at one point. Every weeping widow, and every starving child, and every grieving father, were all reflections of tragedy that he could have avoided in himself and those around him, if he only had power.They roamed the realm over, asking for any sign of the man. They fought many beasts and fended off many bandits, knowing several were just hungry, lost people that bore them no ill will. Every bit of no news they received, and every gil from their coinpurse spent, and every day away from home - they only drove Algol's fixation on finding some sort of answer further, and the guilt swirled into obsession in his mind. His hair, unkempt, grew out, as did his beard on a previously clean-shaven face.His mother had enough after some time. She was tired and heartbroken, and she only wanted to return home. He let her, but he told her he'd continue looking on his own, now that he was convinced he could fend for himself. There was no convincing him otherwise, so she gave him her blessing and prayed she wouldn't have to bury a second empty casket.He kept looking, and still, he found nothing. The shores, the forests, the deserts, the corrupted lands, the frozen gates - he looked everywhere available to him. If his father was around, there was no way he wouldn't have found him by that point. There was nothing. There was truly nothing. He had to be dead.Staring off the edge of a cliff, he stared despair straight into the eyes. He was stricken with grief. He couldn't do that one thing he swore to himself he would do. He'd grown embittered, with all he'd seen and experienced.And the pain turned into a malignant sort of resolve. If he couldn't turn back the clock and make it right, he could at least keep it from ever happening again.So ended a mad search for family, and so began a mad search for power.
- The DescentHe didn't speak much when he finally returned home. He didn't want to receive his mother's ministrations, certain of his purpose and goal now. He studied his mother's old tomes more carefully, scanning them for ways to amplify his might, to at least protect her. He learned of Sharlayan Astrology, and started studying it. He practiced and practiced, and became great at it, using his mother's old star globe. He started his own research. Magic that could heal and amplify, drawing power from the stars beyond...But it was still not enough.Done growing his mind, he turned to his body. Though he'd gained some muscle in the year spent looking for his father, he could still work on his fitness. When he wasn't busy studying and practicing magic, he was training his body. Aided by his Roegadyn heritage, and an apparent predisposition towards bulky builds, he put on a lot of muscle in a very short amount of time. Only power and stamina - he studied nothing related to a physical combat discipline. Only exercise and efficiency. Anything to aid him in case he had to defend himself, because he'd heard too many stories of mages whose lungs had given up on them while running from danger - or into it - to want to be another cautionary tale. He would not be crushed. He would not be overpowered. He would become a perfect vessel for his power...But it was still not enough.Done growing his body, he disregarded his soul. Even the power of Astrology and his own physical prowess was still not enough might to achieve his goals. He turned to the Thaumaturgy his parents had tried to teach him in the past, almost like he intended to right an old wrong. He turned to shadier tomes and deeper, more obscure information - where the might of the Void lay. He learned, and practiced, away from prying eyes, and he became good at it. Good gave way to great, and he was slowly but surely becoming a force to be reckoned with. He wouldn't only be able to defend - by blending Astrology and Black Magic, he would be able to attack and destroy whenever necessary. He would become untouchable. He would become so powerful, nothing would be able to harm him anymore.And, performing all of this without a job stone, he slowly started eroding his aether and burning up on the inside.
- The LifelineHis experiments with magic aged him rapidly and shortened his lifespan. Even though he was only approaching his early thirties, his body was easily in its forties now. He was going to die. He'd toiled and worked so hard and for so long to achieve the might he finally held at his fingertips, and it was going to consume him whole. Counterproductive, to say the least - he could protect and defend nobody if he died in so doing. Yet, the damage was done, and he stared down the pit of despair once more. All the madness, all the suffering - all for nothing.Some new information reached him. Written records of a certain, incredibly powerful Voidsent, lacking a physical form, that promised stability, order, and power to those that tried to curry its favor. It was a ridiculous idea, but once the seeds of it were planted in his mind, there was no way of getting them off. Once he learned of the existence of this being called Astarte, he could hardly think of anything else.Summoning Voidsent required an absurd amount of energy, and it could have disastrous consequences. But he was already dying, so he might as well make one last ditch attempt at holding onto his life. If he was consumed by a Voidsent, his life was forfeit anyways. He might as well.After learning of Astarte's existence, a woman bearing the same interests in that being started appearing around him, seemingly knowing that he intended to either summon Astarte or curry their favor. Algol knew this wasn't right. It was too coincidental. Was him learning of Astarte somehow having an effect on his mind already? The woman aiding him in his research seemed to appear and disappear without anyone else reacting to her. He knew nothing about her beyond her appearance - tan skin, long black hair, a voluptuous figure, and violet eyes. He couldn't even tell what race she was supposed to be.Something was wrong, but he was at the end of his rope, and he didn't care anymore. So he just kept researching and looking deeper into the matter... and, at last, he had enough information and expertise to conduct the ritual.
- The BondIt happened late one night, in La Noscea. He left his house, leaving a note in his room for his mother to find should worst come to worst. She knew Algol was going to do something, but she couldn't tell what exactly, and she was almost scared of asking... so she just prayed for him.He went to a cave by the sea. It could have happened anywhere, as long as it was sufficiently dark - he just wanted to do it in a cave close to the sea, to have it be the last thing he listened to if this was where he died. He changed out from his regular clothes into some robes, and the strange woman soon joined him, already wearing her own robes. She asked him if he was ready, and he didn't respond - they just went into the cave together.Out came the necessary implements. While he lit up the place with a small flame on his left hand - even that hurt him, for he was already so weak - he set out everything else. Chalk to draw a sigil on the ground, in a sufficiently flat surface; candles, to be set out around the circle; paper scrolls bearing long written curses, to be burned; a small bowl of water, to dip ashes in... and an ornate ceremonial knife the woman had somehow procured. He didn't ask.With the sigil drawn and the candles lit, the ritual could begin. Each of them grabbed a scroll and burned it, rubbing the ash on their hands and mixing the rest with the water, clouding it. They removed their robes and tossed them outside the circle, standing in front of each other naked. Then and there he realized just how cold it was inside the cave, and he shivered. The woman seemed unaffected.Then, the final part of the ritual came.She handed him the knife, and told him he had to slice her throat open and be coated in the blood for the ritual to be complete. Why was she so willing to throw her life away? The woman was definitely not normal, but... he'd come that far. He lifted her chin up with the tip of his finger, knife in hand. He couldn't hesitate. It wasn't the first time he took a life, but previously it had happened in self-defense and from a distance - the woman was so close, and she seemed so real... and so resolute as well.A deep breath, and he aimed the knife at the side of her neck. He drew it back, and stabbed it into her neck--And, immediately, an enormous wound appeared to the side of his own neck. Coughing and sputtering, blood shot out. He wasn't expecting the cold bite of steel against his own body, appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and he flinched--But the woman, blood trickling down from her lips, grabbed his hands. She wasn't going to let him stop. She seemed entirely unaffected. In horror, he continued slicing her neck, the knife cutting through her skin like butter, and his own throat being sliced open in response.With her neck completely open, blood bathing her body, he finally panicked. The knife dropped to the ground as he grabbed his open neck, the touch of the ash-covered fingers against bare flesh burning. Tears welled up in his eyes. He was going to die. This is how he died. His sight blurred, and the woman remained staring at him without reacting. He tried to channel healing magic into his hands... but could not. Blood kept pouring from his neck, as he coughed and sputtered, choking, coating himself in his own blood...And her cryptic sentence made sense. He had to be coated in blood for the ritual to be complete - it just had to be his own.The realization came too late. He fell to his knees, choking and drooling on the ground, his fingers sinking into his flesh, desperate. He tried to look up at the woman, but trying to lift his head only opened the gash on his neck further. She still didn't react, even as both of their blood pooled into the circle, and followed the lines previously drawn. She just laid her hand on his head, and told him to rest......and he collapsed into a heap, his consciousness leaving him. His sight was so blurry it was hard to tell if the woman was even there anymore... and this is how he expired. He just hoped his mother didn't have to find his corpse in such a state. Never being found was probably for the best......and then, calm serenity, as his consciousness faded completely. And he slept, and then slept some more.
- The RebirthHe awakened a few hours later, the cave suddenly feeling a lot less dark than before. The first thing he did as he regained consciousness was bring a hand to his neck, where he found absolutely no wound at all. He slowly sat up, looking around... the candles had burnt out and the lines he'd drawn had disappeared, as well as the ash of the scrolls burned. Squinting and focusing his eyes, he realized he wasn't wearing his glasses anymore - they'd fallen off as he collapsed into the ground, but he could see perfectly anyways. Way too perfectly, like he didn't need the glasses anymore, and putting them on... made no difference either.In bringing his hands to his face to put his glasses on, he noticed a faint glow... and paying attention, he realized he now had glowing tattoos on his skin, seemingly running the full length of his body. Lines of violet, all over the place, and his head felt heavier... but maybe that was just an effect of how much he'd slept. He also felt his mouth more full, and like his teeth were sharper - and checking his hands, he realized his nails had grown into claws.He grabbed the bowl of water, noticing it was pitch black now. He looked down into it, to see if he could catch his reflection in this dim light...Whatever it is that he was, it was clearly not human anymore. Horns protruded from his head now, his hair was a mess, the glowing lines were on his face as well, his canines - both upper and lower - were longer and sharper, his tongue was around a foot long... and most strikingly, his sclerae were dark, hardly reflected any light, and his violet irises glowed as well.He knew how Xaela Au Ra looked. His father was one. He knew of their sclerae and limbal rings. This was different. Otherworldly. Menacing.He set the bowl of water on the ground and got up... and he realized he'd never felt better. His body felt spry, flexible and strong, and he couldn't feel the cold anymore, even if he could tell it was there. He also felt incredibly powerful... this was it. This was what he was promised.He could feel the voice of another in his mind - Astarte spoke to him now. The erosion of his aether would have eventually killed him, but now it was patched together with Astarte's self, rendering him half-human, half-demon. Something else entirely. Now, he was permanently bonded with Astarte, and he would live a long life, in health and power.He just had a keen awareness of what his power was, how it stretched, and how to hide his more overtly demonic features. He put his clothes back on, discarding the robe and bowl in the cave. He walked out into the moonlight, feeling it brighter and more welcoming than ever, even as he hid his features, looking like a regular Roegadyn once more.Now he had to take the next step.

- The AftermathHe arrived home before dawn, still concealing his powers. He kept silently marveling to himself over how good he felt, but obviously his mother could not know. In her eyes, his magic was just stronger and he looked healthier, but she wouldn't get an explanation why.Arriving in the dead of night, he didn't have to talk to anyone. He just opened the door and went back to the bathroom. There, locking the door, he let his features come out once more, and realized concealing them put a slight, yet noticeable strain on his power... if he wanted to go all out, he'd have to drop that. This might prove to be a problem, but even his might when concealing himself was great, so it probably wouldn't matter much in most cases. Hopefully, at least.But... he was also struck by a certain... desire. A certain hunger, for something else.He stared at himself long and hard in the mirror. He looked atrocious. His beard was overgrown and unkempt, his hair hadn't been brushed in ages and was only haphazardly thrown into a ponytail most of the time, with several locks of greying hair thrown into the mix, and even if his frame was impressive the maintenance of his body hair left a lot to be desired.He brushed his hair out and dyed it black, bleaching the tips. He trimmed some split, frayed ends. He trimmed his beard down to size, neatly shaping it. He trimmed his body hair, keeping it at an uniform, well-maintained length. He was feeling vain, for some reason. He'd been with men before, but he craved it even more strongly than before... was this Astarte's work? He could feel that, if he eloped with a man, he could... feed, whatever that meant. Did it mean blood, or something else...?He'd try to get with someone the next morning. For now, looking and feeling the best he'd felt in his life, and standing in discarded black hair (that he swept up and threw away), he returned to his room. He burned the note he had previously written, in fire that had turned black with his new power. Then, he went to sleep.- The EmptinessStarting the next morning began the life of a skilled half-demon. He kept taking adventuring gigs and roaming the realm, and he kept training and honing his skills, his power ever growing and accommodating to his new body. It was borderline perfect. Nobody was ever a match for him in combat - and when he wasn't seeking out money or power, he was seeking out men's loins. They were all left exhausted after he was done with them, and he felt better and better each time.Ishgard eventually opened back up, and it was the best place in the realm to study Astrology at - besides Sharlayan, which he couldn't reach quite yet. His parents' hometown would remain outside his reach for quite some time. He formalized his personal research and presented it as an independent researcher of sorts to the Scholasticate. What he had found advanced the field of Astrology ever so slightly, and the professors there were left shocked that an outsider could procure such advanced information despite never having set foot in Ishgard. Of course, they couldn't know he could only advance his research so much due to his clearly nonhuman ability.He joined the faculty as an assistant professor, and, using the money he had saved from his adventuring gigs, he purchased an apartment there in Ishgard, finally living out of his mother's house. He rapidly climbed the ranks of the institution, giving a wide berth to the internal politics of the place and advancing exclusively because of his skill and prowess. He reached tenure in record time, and he'd soon be assigned an office and classes to teach, himself, achieving a reputation among the student body and his peers as a stern, serious and direct professor. A professional in every sense of the word.The only thing left to end his journey was being given information on his father's whereabouts. He'd finally obtain it after putting in words with the right people. Not only did he find out where his father was, he found out the man was actually still alive. After the Calamity, he had to take refuge in Ishgard, but with the city closing itself off to outsiders, there was no way for him to leave. Being a Xaela Au Ra during the height of the Dragonsong War hysteria, he was the victim of some persecution and mistrust, but he always held onto hope that he'd be able to leave and see his family again.The culmination of everything he had ever worked for. Finally getting to embrace his father once more, with his new body and power in tow, he broke down into tears. It was finally over. He could reintroduce him to his mother, who would surely be overjoyed to see her husband once more, even after the grief of having lost him, and they could finally be happy as a family again. And he could finally protect them - like he had been unable to do back then.At last, everything he wanted was within his grasp. He had all the power and stability he had ever craved - his mother recovered, his father appeared, he got a stable job, and he harbored enough power to protect himself and those he loved, to keep himself from feeling that pain ever again.And he had never felt emptier, for in so doing, he gave himself a secret too big to hide, so he could only keep everyone at arm's length, knowing that letting them in would inevitably end in disaster for them. He craved love and affection, but he couldn't allow himself to have that - for who could genuinely love a demon like him? After they found out, they would only feel disgust and horror, and even if they didn't, they'd eventually get hurt, just being around him. He could feel just how much his mind was ruined from all the things he'd gone through in life - both the experiences that had been thrown at him, and those he welcomed with open arms. Half of him had died in his pursuit of power, and this bond with this Voidsent only guaranteed that part would remain dead - or undead, rather, forever lumbering onwards, unable to heal. Now that all was said and done, and he'd achieved everything he set out to achieve, the burden of what he had done to get there weighed heavily upon him. He gave up his humanity for power, and he could no longer go back. He could only keep going.All powerful, yet a horrible monster.All the things he'd done to achieve his power, all the lives he had taken...He only sank deeper into his vice of lust. He could safely feed himself like that, and he could pretend that he could fill the void, even if it left him fundamentally emptier every time. Such was the fate of the demon star - to burn bright, to give light and to lead the way, but to be kept at a distance at risk of burning everything.- The PresentHe currently leads three lives, being three different people depending on whether he's at work, off of it, or doing anonymous adventuring gigs. Fundamentally, all he does outside of feeding has the goal of making him feel closer to humanity. Through his heroics, he learns about people and helps just because it feels right. Through his sleaze and lust, he gives into flesh and learns of people's delights. Through his strict professional work, he learns of structure and order.His life and self are defined by the fact that, in less than five years, he went from a clearly depressed individual without a job or any life aspirations, to crumbling and having to build himself anew. Sometimes, this old self shows through the mask. He seeks connection, but also knows how hard connections are to maintain. Maybe, at one point, things will get better.But he'll have to abandon everything and everyone in the end, anyways. He's immortal, and he knows that everyone he knows and loves will die before him either way. At some point, he'll have to leave everything.Maybe, until that point, he can enjoy the last shreds of his humanity.

Hooks

- Interest in Astrology: He has a bit of a reputation in the Faculty of Astrology of the Scholasticate, due to his professionalism, prowess, and straightforward, stern attitude. He can be seen conducting experiments across the realm occasionally, and taking measurements, so if your character has an interest in Astrology and access to Ishgard, they might end up contacting him.- Academia: He is an academic. If your character studies at or works for an University or other higher education institution, they might have heard of him or could reasonably contact him.- Hooking up: Of course, he gets around a lot. He can usually be seen on the prowl, picking up men in bars and various seedy establishments, or showing himself off at beaches or hot springs to see if anyone showcases any interest. His anonymous masked Lord Bael persona isn't exempt from this, though he doesn't actively seek out sex while donning the mask - if it happens and someone offers, it happens. He needs to feed on aether anyways.- The Far East: Algol tends to travel regularly to Kugane, because he loves the local culture and cuisine (and the hot springs specially). He is very keen on preparing Hingan dishes, and if your character is around that corner of the world - or lives there - they might be aware of "that regular Eorzean tourist that is very tall and has the very deep cleavage, who is a regular of the hot springs".- Voidsent: Lord Bael hunts Voidsent regularly. He listens to stories of powerful Voidsent spotted in various places of the realm, but sometimes he can also simply sense their presence and proximity. He seeks to kill to absorb their power. Your character spotting him with his full demon features out and absorbing void aether could land them in a lot of trouble.- "Adventuring": The "adventuring gigs" Algol as Lord Bael takes are basically a polite way of saying he does mercenary work. He has no pretenses that the jobs he takes are somehow morally upstanding or ascended, and he doesn't care much. If you need a job done, have the cash, and manage to get ahold of the guy, you can consider it done. Slaying beasts, escorting and protecting targets, stealing from someone, murder - he isn't above much. However, if he finds the job you want to give him a bit too immoral (and he will do his research), he may just turn his sights on you instead, so good luck with that.- Random heroics: Sometimes, for seemingly no reason besides wanting to do good, Lord Bael helps people in need, like any good masked anonymous hero would (but with none of the expected warmth and larger than life personality). If you're about to fall prey to some wild beast or demon, are being followed by someone trying to harm you, or otherwise need the help of an eight foot tall unit of muscle with magical power, he may just show up to save the day. If you attempt to pull the "how may I ever repay you" line, he may try to charge you in gil, though. Or in other ways. He isn't picky.- Perceiving something isn't right: Anyone with a good enough aetherial sensitivity can tell there is something distinctly off about Algol. If their sensitivity is strong enough, they might be able to perceive what is off about him is that, for some reason, he doesn't quite have the right amount of aether someone of his size, bulk and power ought to have. A better sensitivity reveals that it's like his aether is damaged or frayed. An even better sensitivity reveals that approximately half of his aether is dark-aspected and from a Voidsent. It requires a lot of sensitivty, since he deliberately suppresses this aspect of himself to make it hard to perceive.- WARNING: Not combat! Algol is, simply put, very good at fighting. Sparring with him might be entertaining for training purposes, and you might find some entertainment from trying to help him fight a threat off (for example, intruding on him slaying a Voidsent and guaranteeing he can't actually absorb its aether without revealing his true nature, leaving him incredibly cross), but just straight up trying to seek a fight with him with the intention of winning or doing powerscaling probably won't be very entertaining for either party involved. Unless, of course, your goal is to have your character lose for whatever reason (which is valid, some good character interactions and development can happen through such avenues).※ In general, I am infinitely more interested in exploring the moral and psychological implications of a person existing while thinking every aspect of their existence is a futile sin, and having to conceal aspects of their being in a way that renders them incredibly untrustworthy if not openly hostile to those around them, a lot more than I am interested in just having kinky ERP or combat scenes where he curbstomps opponents. Algol is a sinister and, frankly, kind of fucked up character that still has the best intentions in mind - he just has some atrocious methods and really doesn't have a way out, after all he's done. I am willing to have sex be part of our RP - it's something Algol does a lot for a variety of reasons - and also combat, but I am more interested in having character exploration, interaction and growth be the focuses of our RP instead of just sex and fighting.

OOC

- I play on Goblin, on the Crystal Data Center.- My timezone is UTC -5, and my country doesn't observe Daylight Savings Time so it's the same time all year round.- I am only interested in RPing with characters and players over the age of 18. Obviously. You'd think this wouldn't need to be said, but you really can never know.- I am open to bending the lore slightly, as you might have seen from my character's backstory and abilities. Sometimes fun stuff happens there.- Algol is a fundamentally horny person. He has regular casual sex with men both for entertainment and feeding. If your character is a physically attractive man, or if our characters encounter physically attractive men, Algol's thoughts are probably going to veer a specific direction. This does not mean I am necessarily seeking to ERP with your character - if our characters do engage in sexual intercourse at some point, I'm perfectly fine with fading to black. However, this is something you should bear in mind and expect, since the only source of human warmth Algol gets is via sex - his thoughts going such directions is to be expected. (And yeah, I have to put this disclaimer here, because for some reason, people have managed to read the rest of the profile and then be shocked when Algol's thoughts and internal narration are horny. Yeah.)- I don't do ingame RP. I simply find it too clunky to really be comfortable and I prefer the liberty granted by having full control of the narration via text-based play-by-post on Discord. Because of this, I also tend to not really start and end RP sessions via schedules - we can just post at our own pace and progress things like that.- I'm one of them spooky pronouns in bio people (He/Him pronouns, by the way). If that sort of thing bothers you, you can get bent.- I tried to keep everything professional here, but I'm kind of... a walking shitpost when you talk to me. So just, uh, be ready for that.- No, I didn't get inspiration from Bayonetta to design Algol, even if they're both powerful and acrobatic fighters with long black hair, that are hypersexual, wear glasses, are verbose, and draw power from demonic sources. This was pointed out to me later on and I found the similarities uncanny and incredibly amusing - it was all unintentional. The "portals where familiar heads appear" thing was inspired by Bayonetta after the fact, though - felt I might as well go all the way. I enjoy the similarities.- Yes, Algol is incredibly messed up in the head. But he's real fun to play for this and I love him. My beloved walking red flags big tits babygirl (old man).- I don't really limit myself to roleplaying within the XIV setting, honestly. I can adapt Algol to other settings if you want to do something else. I've done it for a world like that from the Ryu Ga Gotoku/Yakuza series (which I'm a big fan of), and the Pokemon series (which I'm not really a big fan of outside of the hot dudes, to be quite honest) - I'm always open to talking things out and workshopping ideas!- My Discord handle is @algol_ardhanari, please hit me up there if you're interested in discussing characters or roleplay. I don't use any other social media.

A very long time ago, in a faraway world, different from our own, there lived a young girl - a healer, who, despite being of the large people race of her world, was slim, youthful, and overall graceless. She led a simple life, aiding in caring for the ill and the wounded in her small village, using the magic she herself had managed to develop, but mostly keeping to herself. She didn't hold many desires in life, only wanting to get through each day, helping people, and living out her life in peace. The warm sun hitting the fields of wheat and rivers of her hometown kept everyone safe, but also made everyone fester. Crops and cattle were always abundant, but a subtle darkness was brewing.The peoples of her continent knew there was another land towards the east, and that they weren't the whole world, but they were completely disinterested in interacting with them or sailing the seas to encounter them. The high geography of the land wasn't conducive towards having many ports, anyways, and they were perfectly happy with this - they conducted trade among themselves, and waged war between themselves, and this was enough.One day, a shepherd from the girl's village was attacked in the wilderness by beasts. His sheep were slaughtered, he was badly gored, and he only barely managed to drag himself back to the village. The girl sensed it. She felt it happen, for some reason. Her desire to heal and protect set in, and she ran outside the village to meet this man. He was a goner. She refused to accept this. She concentrated all of her healing magic, and, though it burned some of her life energy, brought him back from the brink, healing him perfectly. After healing the man, she escorted him back to the small village, limping, and returned to her house to rest, the large square windows of the stone and wood house letting a fresh breeze in as she slept and recovered. She didn't want nothing in return.The shepherd had other ideas, of course. His life was quite literally saved, and grateful hardly began to describe how he felt about the girl that had helped him. He began to visit her regularly, sang the praises of her magic, and became her friend. Despite being about a decade older than her, he was still unmarried, and lived alone in a different farmhouse in the village. It's not as though he had much to come back to, what with his cattle having been slaughtered, so once he recovered the remains and sold as much meat as he could, he got close to the girl.He had no talent for healing or magic in general, however, so he effectively only became her assistant. He admired her, singing her praises to anyone that would listen, about the wonderful and powerful, selfless healer that had saved his life, even though she was completely uninterested in it. In fact, she may have found him annoying, to an extent.And yet... they grew closer and closer. They found that they had things in common, with their shared loneliness and lack of need for the outside world, so they became friends.The man's praise of her abilities had an effect in the village. Where once she was one of the less preferred healers and magicians, she steadily gained in popularity and received more visits from ailing people, or those bringing in their sick pets. She had a natural affinity for bovine cattle, feline pets, and lizards, feeling kinship with their stability, silence, and independence. As she practiced her abilities, her power grew. As she became the most famous healer in the small village, the friendship with the shepherd she'd saved turned to love, and the two married. Other healers and magicians of the village eventually decided to begin supporting her, finding her simple honesty charismatic and attractive, some of them putting down their wands just for the sake of supporting her and joining her.Thus was Saint Astarte born. The admiration and love from the people of the village turned into power, as she drew strength from being needed. The village was so small, and so far from everything, so self-sufficient, that, despite knowing the distant, larger cities had many gods they worshipped, the village had none. So, them deciding this healer girl that had nearly given her life to save a man was a Saint simply felt natural.And the world, too, rewarded her for it. An increased reputation and the admiration of people, and their need for her, seemed to literally empower her. Her magics grew more powerful, more all-encompassing, until she was the strongest person in the tribe - a perfect protector for it. She didn't mind it much, as long as she could just help people. For convenience, she just took upon an old name, that had come to her in a dream, for her real name wasn't really the name of a Saint. Living at the biggest house in the village, this small girl with olive skin, honey colored eyes, wavy black hair, and clad in white veils and robes, became the leader.Her people wanted more, though. They set out, wishing to bring the word of Saint Astarte to other people, so that they, too, could experience the wonders of her healing and protection. They traveled to nearby villages that they knew were there, that, in time, had become inferior to the state of living in Astarte's village. Rumors abounded about the better lives people could live in that village, so, when they were approached by denizens of it, interested in bringing Astarte's good to them as well, they embraced them with open arms, wishing for better things. They, too, were entranced by Astarte's quiet charisma and her power, wanting to benefit from her love for her people, and soon, they became part of her people as well. The admiration of Saint Astarte grew, with more and more villages being considered "her people".Some of those villages already had local gods they worshipped. Once they devoted themselves to Saint Astarte, they decided to worship her as well. The community formed around her took upon a religious tone.The world rewarded her for this, too. She isn't sure when it happened, but she stopped being human. Her power grew so much, from people's worship, that her body, itself, reacted. She stopped aging once she became an adult woman in her late thirties, and her once honey colored eyes became a bright, glowing yellow. She was a walking goddess, born out of the will of the people, and out of nothing but a desire to protect and love them.She embraced her change, and allowed her mind to become that of a deity as well. If this would make her more powerful, and allow her to better protect and love her people, so be it. So was born a religion of peoples in an isolated corner of the continent, centered around a goddess in the flesh, that they could talk to and interact with directly, and who became more powerful the more people prayed to her.But further away villages did not like this development at all. They had their own gods, and they felt threatened by the spread of good news from Astarte's people, fearing that she would encroach upon their territories. She had no such intentions, but they struck first, arming their people and attacking.In doing so, Astarte discovered how powerful and ruthless she was capable of being. The threats to her people discovered it too. Any and all threats that came to her and her people were crushed. For convenience, those villages were absorbed as well. Civilians were spared, because Astarte's actions weren't born out of cruelty and a desire to conquer, yet she became a warlord nonetheless. Her army was made undefeatable.Every group of people that was inducted into her religion, that worshipped other gods, soon began worshipping her as well, projecting upon her the same divine aspects of their previous gods. This divinity was accepted by her body, and made her power grow in turn, as her physical form changed.Once she began being worshipped as a goddess of strategy, her soft gaze became sharper, and her mind faster.
Once she began being worshipped as a goddess of warfare, her slim body became muscular, believably for a woman that leads an army.
Once she began being worshipped as a goddess of fertility and motherhood, her hips widened and breasts enlarged, giving her the figure of an idealized mother.
Once she began being worshipped as a goddess of beauty and love, her skin attained a smooth glow, her facial features became more beautiful, and her hair became more flowing and voluminous, attractive for the people around her.Irresistible, and all-powerful. There was no divine aspect that was beyond her reach. Still, her only interest remained loving and protecting her people. She organized her peoples and designated priests and priestesses, to guide and provide hope and shelter, and her religion became organized. Her first lover, the one that had been saved by her all those years ago, still alive by his proximity to her divinity, remained her first consort and her highest ranked priest, bringing the good word of her deeds and her power wherever he went.A goddess of everything. A goddess of civilization itself. A goddess whose worship would soon extend to the whole continent, toppling even the millennia-old worship of other gods, whose worship was absorbed into her own. She was a divine lion, a divine cow, a divine snake, a divine woman. She was everything. She was the lands, and the seas, and the rivers, and the crops, and the construction, and power, and the warm rays of the sun, and the gentle breeze, and the peaceful sleep.And she was happy. And now, even though she had many more people than she did at the start, she loved them all the same. She received worship and gifts, and bestowed blessings, health, prosperity and fortune upon everyone. She twisted the fates to ensure her peoples would be happy and live together.However, she, too, was powerless when the flood of darkness came. First, the imbalanced energies of her world took over the lands to the east. Since none of them ever had an interest in going there, this was fine by her. As long as they were safe, even if alone, everything was fine. But when the wave encroached even upon her lands, her powerful, godly magics were no match for reality itself turning against her and against all her people. The land festered and rotted, the seas turned to inky pitch, and the sun was blotted out. The people were transformed into foul beasts and lost control of themselves, slaves to an infinite hunger for energy and aether that was no longer possible in this world overrun by darkness.Darkness is life. Darkness is the energy of creation given form. Darkness follows no rules, it is only power and might. It stood in stark contrast to Astarte's light, and her being a goddess of civilization, of order, of everything.Its chaos engulfed her. It found her completely incompatible with itself. The power of raw chaotic creation, of the scent of fertile soil, rot and blood, took over her body......and she did not become transformed the way her people did. For her insolence in being order and civilization, and in wanting to love and maintain peace and stillness, she was completely torn asunder. She was not allowed to exist anymore.In this new world of pure darkness, all that remained of her physical form was a hollow statue of marble, darkened and overrun with vines, with broken arms and an empty face and chest, facing the steep shore where, at one point, she stood trying to stop the flood of darkness, to keep her people safe. A small, weak, meaningless monument towards a divinity that had been erased.Yet... her will remained. Her power did, too. Her self still existed... bound to the continent, turned into raw power and energy that polluted the air. Bereft of a body, Astarte still existed, but having turned into naked power, she no longer had any way of interacting with the world. She truly lost everything. She was now nothing.But... in her state as a goddess, she learned that there were other worlds out there. She spent ages thinking, attempting to coalesce to somehow communicate with the nearby worlds.Thousands of years passed in this state, with nothing ever happening. Time meant nothing to her, as someone that had once been a goddess of time, and who was once long-lived herself. One day, however, a rift opened into the nearest world - a larger world, a source. She knew she had a kindred spirit there- someone whose soul mirrored her own, in many ways, who had not yet realized he had any potential whatsoever. He, too, had undergone a great disaster. He, too, was of the large people race, like she once had been as a human, but he was a tad small and thin, flabby for one.It was simply too perfect. Now that his mind was open, she could attempt to contact him. Through him, she could exist again.Through him, she could, one day, rebuild her world. She could one day restore her people, and regain the glory of existence, love and peace, that she once had. She wanted nothing more. She would help him in anything he needed, and grant him infinite power, channeled into this world, as long as he eventually helped her... no matter how long it took.He performed a ritual, and she became bonded with him. She now inhabits his mind and is his power. She told him what she wants, but said that he doesn't need to hurry.She has infinite time, after all.
And now, so, too, does he. He just hasn't accepted it quite yet. But one day, he shall restore everything. He shall be the hero. He shall be the new god.Algol, who is now also Astarte, is a newborn demon god of magic. "He" is two people, both himself and her. He doesn't fully grasp his powers or his mission... but one day, he will. One day, he shall embrace it. Until then, he latches onto the last shreds of his humanity.Perhaps you can help him achieve his full godly potential. Would you like to try?