Summer 3, 490 AV Caesarion Bind me to your side. Appearance Beautiful and terrible all the same. Full Name: Caesarion Panthos Race: Human Gender: Male Height: 6'3" Weight: 218 LBs Profession: Reimancer Housing: Home in Syliras, not currently living in Likes: Magical Studies, Self-Improvement, Intrigue, Secrets, Philosophy, Faith, Enjoyable Conversation, Architecture and Theatrics Dislikes: Slavery, Weak-Heartedness, Stupidity, Brutishness, Cruelty, Worship of Evil Gods (at least supposedly) Merits: Extremely Diligent, 'Survivor', Witty, Compassionate, Keen-Eyed, Loyal, Faithful, Resolute Flaws: Impulses and Compulsions, Violent Tendencies, Radical Philosophy, Hypocritical, Pompous at Times, Malfunctioning Fluent: Common Basic: Pavi Poor: Myrian Caesarion has a very unique appearance, with soft skin and pronounced features. He has very pronounced features, to be sure, beginning with his distinctively wide eyebrows and moving to his smooth and straight nose. His lips are very plump compared to the average, and his eyes possess a sort of enthralling mystique in their green-blue hue. His hair is a silky, dirty blond, though it sometimes shines brighter in the sun. It's short and never makes it past his ears. His figure is very muscular, tan, and with a wide frame. Even though his muscles themselves don't look extremely developed on their own, he has the girth and strength of the bodybuilder he is and it reflects whenever he attempts martial practices. He is very tall as well, making him a very aesthetically pleasing gentleman altogether. Personality A mirror turned against the wall. Caesarion has endured much change in his life, from high class slaver to middle class hunter, to being a slave himself. He has grown from spoiled to seeking to desperate, but the result of all the hardships has been of a single nature: wrath. He has grown to desire the destruction of evil. His dream is to rain terror on all those who creep in the shadows, destroying them in his wake. But there is more than just that. The man is a kind man. He is a loving man. He cares deeply for his friends and as far as he knows he could never be pushed to harm or betray them. The issue with Caesarion, his equal duality, is that the moment the lines blur and he believes someone goes from good to evil or innocent to assailant, he no longer has a single shred of mercy for them. He will kill them, or force them to insanity, or torture and mutilate them. He doesn't have a shred of regard for people who abuse their power against the weak, especially if their cause is self-gain. And so, he strikes out against darkness and evil in any way and does his best to purge individuals that can no longer be considered productive or even just docile members of society. Even despite this violent tendency, he loves games. He loves manipulation. He doesn't enjoy discovering his foes by means of visual evidence, but by enthralling others to reveal their darkest secrets or the secrets of others. He is a manipulator, a schemer, a liar, and ultimately the most lethal kind of killer: one you will trust. Altogether, he believes himself to be the wrath of the oppressed and the subjugated, and while this arrogance draws folly, it also draws an exceptional amount of danger to those around him who would indulge in cruelty where the light may shine. History Tale of the liberator. Caesarion was born to a duo of slaver families, Panthos and Exthon. His father was the Panthos and his mother Exthon, Mhaenies and Lyssa respectively. The two of them did not arrange their marriage, but instead, they fell in love. Mhaenies Panthos was one of the most attractive and charming fellows in all of Ravok, or at least that was what his family would say. He would have no less than the best bride, the most beautiful, youthful, soulful, intelligent and kind. Little did he know he did not have to look far, for right nextdoor was she . . . Lyssa, who was kind and beautiful, wise and intelligent, youthful and soulful. It was not love at first sight, and quite honestly Lyssa thought herself better than Mhaenies even though he was a gallant and brilliant young man. Still, the two of them eventually surpassed their differences and found peace. The marriage itself was stable always, but as they had two sons by the names of Rhaenon and Caesarion, problems arose. The heir to the family name would be Rhaenon, and Caesarion would simply be that of a child of love. Lyssa gave her love to Caesarion and Mhaenies hardened Rhaenon as a warrior and a pragmatic entrepreneur. Caesarion was always jealous of his brother, who seemed to have everything, and he took his mother's love severely for granted. As they grew older, the gap widened, and eventually the family grew corrosive. Mhaenies died only middle-aged, likely from the stress of leading a wealthy family, and Lyssa kept a distance from her two sons after a while. Rhaenon and Caesarion would argue frequently, and these arguments often lead to slaves they owned being used against one another in plots. Ultimately, Caesarion left Ravok behind, and began a new life in Syliras. Mhaenies Panthos Caesarion's father looked in appearance much like Rhaenon, his brother. In his prime, he was a very tall and attractive young soldier who served Rhysol and the Voice. He originally aspired to become a Druvin and let his brother take over the household name, but his brother unfortunately died of a strange illness that left the family believing it was assassination. This left him with a legacy he did not desire, and the stress of having to manage his family wealth unexpectedly made him grow old and presumably die young. Lyssa Panthos Lyssa, Caesarion's mother, was a very unique individual. She had a mysterious past that could not be explained, with both of her parents absent and a regent ruling her family estate. When she married Mhaenies, she merged the households (quite literally and figuratively) and combined her wealth with her husband's. Lyssa owned many slaves and appreciated wealth, but she was always exceptionally kind to her slaves, and she taught Caesarion of their feelings and needs, whereas Mhaenies taught Rhaenon of how to milk them for economic value. Lyssa was always extremely youthful, and even though she is nearly fifty years old now, many would describe her as looking in her early twenties. She is a woman of bright blond hair and piercing blue eyes, and a very petite build. Caesarion is close to his mother, though she grew disappointed in him as he grew more rebellious, and they haven't spoken in some time. Rhaenon Panthos Rhaenon is Caesarion's older brother, and the heir of the slaves and estate of Panthos. Extremely intelligent, physically and magically capable, as well as pragmatic and cutthroat, he is the son Mhaenies always wanted. He is also a charming man capable of manipulation and seduction at a whim, and Caesarion wholly believes that he will inevitably lead their household to much greater success. One of Rhaenon's personal goals is, also, to embrace Rhysol and become a Druvin. With his mother helping manage the slaves, he has already begun his pursuits towards the Lord of Chaos. Vox's Perspective: Music, I remember that. It was a song I'd heard before, in my youth, by the voices and the chords of some famous Ravokian trio. They were known as "The Second Voice", and all loved them for their talents. Their music ranged from dubious and comical mockeries of Syliran culture and faith, to simply enjoyable compositions, to songs about the glory and faith of Ravok. Of course, as a child, glory and faith are easy to swallow. It was not until adulthood that I began to question my dedication to my city, and around that time, I left my home to experience the world. It was reckless, wild, and stupid. I did it anyway. I moved to Syliras and started a life there, barely scraping by but finding friends in strange places and encounters that I still recall with joy today. There was Gallagher, oh, Gallagher. I miss him so much. I would write to him and lie up a storm to make him think I'm happy. Last time we spoke, I told him I was moving to Zeltiva, which I was. Little did he know I'd soon come to be enslaved, one big jump in the right direction being contorted into a foul monster of a miscalculation. I really loved him for who he was. I would say that he was my closest friend throughout my entire life, always having my back and always happy to see me. I wanted to be with him. It's silly to say that considering I ran off to another city, but I had a deep and repressed desire in my heart and it all belonged to him. My Gallagher. Then, Aoren, who I was taken from on the road. He was something of a friend of mine, though I'd betrayed him so many times. He always, always looked out for me though, and was willing to forgive me. I think I probably made him very sad, but he made me the opposite; he, alongisde Gally, brought me the small semblance of joy I experienced after leaving Ravok. His ability to be strong, always, and think selflessly for the sake of others . . . that sort of thing brings me hope. He was my inspiration for my dream: freeing the slaves of my city, leading even mangled and bruised bodies to salvation. He showed me that real kindness existed. Although now, he probably thinks I'm dead. As for my dogs, Max and Argos . . . I remember the hunt. The chase. When the slavers cornered me, I ran to the trees and tried desperately to hide myself wherever I could. My dogs stayed with me, protected me, warned me of approaching predators. They kept me going for as long as I could manage before eventually they were slain by arrows, recklessly assaulting one of my attackers. They died heroically. I thought I was to die too. To be honest, I don't think the perception that one witnesses their life before it ends is necessarily true. Many people in this world die screaming and in resistance, very few doing so on their bed or through other peaceful means. When their blades and arrows came to face me, I did not resist. I knew it was over. I didn't scream. I just dreamed. I thought about everything that I'd ever done wrong, and right, and everything I wanted to accomplish . . . everything I really did accomplish, too. Perhaps my tranquility at that moment was what spared me, and allowed me to continue to live. I do not know. But I am here. |