ACRELES SALATHIEL
Divine Violence
Name // Acreles salathiel
Age // 98
Height // 6'2"
Weight // 225lbs
Alignment // Neutral Evil
Location // ul'dah
Clan // rava
Profession // this and that
Appearance
Acreles carries himself like a man burdened by war, with shoulders squared and jaw set. More often than not, he wears an expression of perpetual fatigue and disinterest, sallow eyes taking in his surroundings with little to no curiosity.His complexion is inherently tan, although it retains a certain ashen quality indicative of sleepless nights and the poor maintenance of his mental-wellbeing. He bears no freckles nor distinguishing birthmarks, save for the dark hue smeared across the lower portion of his nose. And tall, smooth ears, matching the color of his hair, stand out atop his skull, expressive in nature and embellished with a variety of silver earrings.With regards to his figure, Acreles is muscular in nature, though not excessively so. His body bears scars from past conflicts, including a smattering of small, shallow marks that pepper the left portion of his chest. Most notable, however, is a particularly gruesome scar that mars his right hip, traveling well below his waistline and down along a portion of his outer thigh.
Personality
Acreles is little more than the manifestation of resentment itself; that, coupled with an apathy for everything outside of his own self-interests has made for a particularly virulent man. Rarely does he concern himself with the ongoings of others. But if he does, it can be guaranteed that he harbors an underlying intention. There’s hardly an instance where Acreles will offer his aid without reward, and as he believes honor to be an archaic concept, he’ll most assuredly slip a blade in your back if it means he lives another day. He is a man shaped by hardship, one who has long since abandoned the notion that the world can offer anything without first taking something from him in return.He’s a reticent creature, seldom sharing his true thoughts or intents with others, and he has absolutely no desire to form lasting, well-meaning relationships with others unless they’re an avenue to greener pastures. Trust, to him, is a currency best hoarded and one rarely spent. And his loyalty is as unlikely as it is fleeting.
BREATHE, DARLING...
Acreles, originally known as Elias Rehw-Gilda, began in the Golmore jungles. No different than other Rava Viera, he was taken from his village once his sex became apparent so as to learn how to defend their forest. However, well before he was taken, it was noted that he was prone to obsessions that ventured far beyond passion. Once something of interest crossed his path, he was wholly consumed in pursuing it. Given the solitary nature of Rava males, it wasn't long before said obsessions bled into his new way of living. His first hyper fixation? It was born of a narrow mindset that revolved around the only preset ideal given to him: the defense of the forest. Decades slipped between his fingers where every waking hour was spent honing his prowess with sword and shield, and using those skills to defend his home. It was his only means of satisfaction, successfully warding off evil, invaders, malevolent spirits, or otherwise. But as all first loves do, that satisfaction began to fade. He'd find himself plateauing in progress. Day-to-day training no longer held the appeal it once had. And he’d set off in search of a new vice, this time, botanical in nature.It’d begin with the native flora, the sort that left his mind rolling in fog. It was simple enough. Inhale, and his oft racing thoughts would slow. Anxieties that he had not yet given a name to would ease. But obsession is ugly. Give it an inch and it will seize a mile. Violently. His thoughts weren't slow enough. His anxieties weren't far enough away. Casual use escalated into day-to-day reliance, and he found himself unable to function without dampened senses and muddled thoughts.While lost in this haze, the Garleans invaded, and he was utterly useless. Quick enough to keep himself from death's door, but not quick enough to aid others. And when the blood of his own stained his ledger, the thin tolerance he'd been afforded vanished, and he was driven from his homeland. His Green Oath forcibly broken.Thrust into an entirely new world, Acreles was forced to navigate the Eorzea that lay beyond of the confines of the forest. Resentment, confusion, and fear hardened him, manifesting in a proclivity for physical violence and aggressive outbursts. And after securing some semblance of stability, he fell through the cracks, into the undercity of Ul'dah.There, where greed can sniff out any manner of opportunity, he was lured into the shadows by those who sought to exploit his violent tendencies and unresolved anger for their own gain. They gave direction to his rage. Purpose to his violence. And before long, he was beneath the thumb of substance abuse once more. Now, when he isn't being asked to strongarm others, he deals the very poison he used to dull his own mind.
HOOKS
| antagonistic | drug peddler | soldier of fortune | all things botanical |
| looking for a rival? well, look no further. acreles is perfectly suited to be the mouse to your cat. or cat to your mouse. whichever you prefer. he excels at creating chaos. | if your character suffers from sleepless nights or aches for an escape from reality, acreles has what you're looking for. find him in a dark alleyway. or a gutter. | revenge? extortion? smuggling? if you can find him, acreles will offer his services without question or thought for morality. for no small amount of gil, of course. | given his background, acreles has a natural inclination toward all manner of flora. if your character is well-versed in herbs or the like, it's a particular interest of his that could get him yapping. |
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a bit about me: i've been roleplaying for 10+ years now, but am still in the process of learning FFXIV lore and what not, so bear with me. and while my character is quite awful, i myself am not. feel free to reach out!please note that this character is intended to be an antagonist by nature, he's not meant to be friendly in any way. so when i write for him, i'm lookin' for trouble. and, as always, OOC ≠ IC.
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