"Those who hate me, wish to be me. And those who hunt me...well. They will never win me."
Dossier
| NAME: | Calixte Golmarr |
| AGE: | ~130 summers (undisclosed) |
| HOMELAND: | The Golmore jungle of dalmasca |
| SPECIES: | Rava Viera |
| PRONOUNS: | They/she |
| SEXUALITY: | Sapphic leaning, pansexual |
| HEIGHT: | 6 fulms 3 ilms (~190 cm) |
| LANGUAGES: | common (with a heavy ravan accent), Ravanese, Dalmascan, high ivalician, |
| CLASSES: | Archery, daggers, limited white magicks and fisticuffs |
| OCCUPATION: | Retired dancer. Lifelong huntress. Budding proprietor. |
Aesthetics
"You long to be honeyed skin and soft curls, but beneath it all, your blood boils fiercely. You were born with heaven and hell already in you." – unknown
face: dyed rouge hair that extends to their thighs. wildly colored lips and eyelids. dark, striped tattoos reminiscent of their village's customs. a notable beauty mark next to full lips. a sharp smile and a seering crimson gaze.
build: curled tattoos spanning their right bicep and left thigh, scars peppering their lower back, long limbs and claws typical of viera. soft with some muscle definition in the arms and abdomen. wider hips. a hare-like tail and feet.
Demeanor: easily the life of the party or a mere observative bystander, calixte is the embodiment of confidence, oftentimes exuding an air of irresponsibility, brashness, and cluelessness. rest assured, they've played the game long enough to know exactly which performance they decide to play. It is up to you to figure out their tricks and strip them of their many masks.
Disposition:
vivacious ✧ seductive ✧ vain ✧ mischievous ✧ curious ✧ poised ✧ mysterious ✧ indulgent ✧ thrill-seeking ✧ oddly, introspective
"Am I selfish for craving life's luxuries at the expense of those whose coffers are well past bursting? I say no— you only live once, my love."
| Likes ❤️ | Dislikes ❌ |
|---|---|
| fine jewelry & clothing | scholarly work & books |
| music & dance | cooking |
| triple triad, linkpearl chats | heroism |
| liquor & moko. lots of it. | uptight individuals. garleans. |
Additional Information
| Voice Claim | Viera voice 3, a huskier Primrose from Octopath traveler |
| "Inspiration/Muses" | Beyonce, Megan thee stallion |
| Alignment: | chaotic neutral |
| Element: | Fire, wind |
| tarot card: | the devil |
| Orchestrion Roll | ❤️ |
And so, they left. It only seemed natural that they did.
Kljsha Golmarr. Beloved child of the Wood. Protector of the Green Word. Blight to the Golmorr Village.
All titles detailing a life of exceedingly rising expectations, and Kljsha's somewhat inherent inability to reach them. They were too busy dawdling off during their bow lessons and tournaments, the village leaders' had accused. Kissing fellow Viera in hanging brush, with little to no interest in the war surrounding them nor the looming responsibility to spawn offspring. What would be the point anyway, when fellow Village Wardens said they would never amount to anything, and the tribal marks on their cheeks no longer were a sign of pride, but of shame in the eyes of other Rava.
They ended up leaving the village and the Wood altogether with a heavy belly, a deep set hatred for Imperials, and disillusions towards their own kin.
The Gods decide who to look upon favorably. They are hardly ever one of them.
Parenthood had been stolen from them by fate. Tainted love and hatred had come to them embodied in a vile, Roegadyn pirate. The simple joys of life had come in Thavnair's seaside towns, where bards would regale the tales of old civilizations past – the gems they had, the people and their thoughts. It is how they fell in love with melodies and storytelling, and the name Calixte fell upon their quivering ears. They took it up, forever stripping away a part of their wretched past.
Eorzea brought to them a sense of rebirth compared to the old ghosts that followed them relentlessly in the Near East. This respite hardly lasts long, as they discover new demons and confusing customs. Their time cooperating with the Twin Adders, their brief run-ins with the Scions, and their diplomacy out to Coerthas had been enough to inform them that blind heroism for those who care naught for them is not– and will never– be the path for them to choose. Along the way, they further dissociate from the cultures' ideas of womanhood. They wish to only be thought of as a Viera. A little more, but nothing less.
