HARK,
WELL!
were all such things true we might have a kinder world. yet, 'tis made apparent in some vast wisdom a stream of aether, the exchange of living things into some faraway serenity. the river may not be taken, however, and there 'twould be that most vile of things. dancing back to the coil, i found you, taking you as my child.
crystal - mateus mountain standard time
walk ups ✓ tells ✓ smut ✗
A wanderer, Harkwell does their best to pay recompense for those they inconvenience. It's a thankless endeavor, really, but that's more than fine. Obscurity better suits a devil. And oh, what a devil they are, with the sins they carry. No amount of oblation will amount to the penance they owe. Yet still, should that make a villain? No. Never. If nothing else, this star is owed kindness, even if it's not been granted to them.
name
maketh
man
• name harkwell
• race au'ra
• age ? ? ?
• pronouns they / he
• nationality ? ? ?
• build 6'7" — lanky but strong
• locale arrzaneth ossuary, ul'dah, thanalan
at a glance . 🟄
where once was a man
an imposing figure cut, but one that's almost all too easy to glance over at first notice. an albino au'ra, silhouette often washed out against sun-bleached stone. they have a particular staring problem, gold-irised eyes set in pitch, unblinking yet impassive. that, in fact, is what always seems to gain notice; that no spoken can ignore the compulsion that someone or something is looking at them. worse still is finding a someone who seems more like a something. draped in robes, they move with a sort of easy fluidity, and if there is interest in their gaze it is not betrayed by anything which might suggest they are capable of expression to begin with. the gaze turns away; leaves one alone again. when they mill away, it is much as the passing of a breeze. there and gone.
intimations . 🟄
i see now only a void
hark is found where the bodies are. literally. they can be found in arrzaneth ossuary if they are not out in wider eorzea to begin with, dusting shelves, organizing tomes, sweeping floors, keeping lock and key of the place. but for the most part, they can be found in erralig's crypt, making preparations to put the dead to rites. more like than not, the thaumaturgists who frequent the ossuary have been assisted by harkwell in some fashion or another. ostensibly, he works in service to the Order of Nald'thal. otherwise, hark wanders, taking up the mantle of 'adventurer' when he isn't busy with the "obligations" of the order. for better or worse, hark is a solitary traveler, often addressing issues proportional to that of one spoken; but there are murmurings, of course, about the pale au'ra who takes the dusty old postings, the mysteries unsolved, wrapping them up tidy-like without so much as a whisper . . .
aetheric flicker: it is not that hark is "dead", persay, but perhaps that they are a little closer to the stream than others. their aether feels as if the uncertain rattle of breath before death; yet before those who might detect this stands a hearty and hale spoken, no ill for wear.whisper soft: lighter on his feet than he would seem, hark tends to move with a certain quietude through the world, unnoticed despite his size. perhaps it is a misbegotten mindfulness. a nicety.gentle strength: when making trails, kicking up dust, harkwell carries a greatsword. however, while old and likely a pass-down, it seems to have suffered some disuse, unblemished by blood. it is to their preference not to go around snuffing out lives, 'lest they burden themself with more sin still to bear.aether sight: harkwell has a keen sense for aetheric profiles. the brushstrokes and colors that constitute every spoken being and even those besides. mayhap that's where their staring problem comes into play . . . ?interior quiet: one may find difficulty tricking hark, especially through means of illusion or even the soporific effects of conjury. one might call their mind a steel trap; but, really, should one choose to brush their fingers across it, there seems to be an incongruity of thought.
verses
verses
verses
peaceful sleep
& the wakefulness of the woeful
where hark spends much and more time tending to the dead, ensuring the sanctity of crypts, and paying dues to every resting place, so too do they encounter the mourning.lending an ear—or, horn—has become a usual habit now. besides; every spoken seems to need it. they just might not have very much to say for the grieving.
to wake
yet not all rest so easy
however, there may just come a reply. many have called it a sort of divination or scrying; should it comfort you, call it folk magic. they hear whispers from beyond, and should one have need to speak with those past . . .
to live
is to serve
coin is the tongue of nald'thal
really, it's not his call. if hark could help it, he would have nothing to do with money to begin with. but that's just not the reality of things. with a mysterious mountain of debt to pay off to the order of nald'thal, harkwell takes odd jobs wherever he can find it. if one needs a body guard, it's duly done. a warm body on an expedition? premium rates and endorsements from those at the ossuary. so long as there's promise that hark comes back with money.
forgotten
an ignorance of most all affairs
curiously, harkwell seems to lack foundational knowledge of many a contemporary and historical matter. so too do they claim not to be able to read or write, and yet when it comes to working in the ossuary's library or penning out niche knowledge, there's no issue at all . . . hark's mind has been altered somehow; who knows what lies behind that vacancy.
e̵̤̋r̴͓͗r̴͋o̶̪̅r̸͔̽
t̷͇͑h̸̞͘ị̴s̴̠̈́ ̵̫̃ḯ̸̱s̵̩̏ ̸̜͘a̴͚̋n̸͈͝ ̴̲̆e̶̘̅x̸̦̓ċ̸̥h̴̪́á̶̱n̸͕̿g̷̯̾ȇ̷͎.̵͇͆ ̸̤̀ị̶͘ẗ̶͈́ ̷̪̄w̶̼͑õ̴̬r̸͎͐k̸͙̑s̵͖̄ ̵͖͌b̶̬̋e̴̪͋c̴͍͝ā̵͖ů̸̹s̴͂͜e̷̝̔ ̸̦ḯ̴͕ț̸̇ ̵̫͐h̴͈́u̴͘ͅr̵̻̃t̸̞͌š̶̭.̴͚͊
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beyond
within
the author
the character
i am a 21+ roleplayer and have a strong preference that my partners be the same. my focuses when it comes to roleplaying are smart characterization and critical world-building. occaisonally i might be interested in storytelling. otherwise, i love gothic themes and the horror genre as a whole. i can be a little shy sometimes, but feel free to reach out!
i suppose harkwell is best described as something of a medical horrorshow. a little observational piece about just what can go wrong and perhaps the darker side of things that i felt earlier ffxiv sometimes leaned toward. expect a stoic with little to say but perhaps much to do; actions speak louder than words, after all.
i go by ryder. i'm twenty-seven. my pronouns are they / them. i am in mountain standard time.
rules
content
kindness !
fair warning
i do not tolerate racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, etc. I will blacklist you regardless of whether we are in a venue or not. i write about mature themes but this is not license to be a bigot under any circumstances.
harkwell embodies themes of medical abuse and indentured servitude. they are not precisely at the forefront but are certainly present at the foundation of their character. when digging deep, it's good to hash it out!
this carrd's design was a study of one by paletterph.
there's a lot of songs by the way. go mousing over stuff.