Casimir Zelasch

About

Quick info
Name: Casimir Zelasch
Age: 35
Race: Hrothgar (Bozjan)
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Hetro
Relationship Status: Single (Monogamous for the most part)
Skillsets: Blacksmithing, Armourer, Engineering, Theorectical Sciences, Pictomancy. Cactuar handler. TL:DR, he's good with his hands and thinks a lot.
Personality traits: Mood dependant. Majority of the time, whimsical, comical, thoughtful and highly animated in expression. Other times, sombre and contemplative. He's like a mood pendulum.
Alignment: True Neutral. (As long as you're not actively hurting people or animals, he's cool with you.)
Ambitions: To travel. To build. To take everything in at his own pace. Living life in the best way he can.

In-depth summary
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Where do we start with Casimir here? Well, lets go back roughly sixteen year ago back in Bozja.His family is one of generational blacksmiths. Forging, smithing, smelting and shaping metal to their whims. That was what this certain clan did. Casimir is the middle child of a family of eight siblings. They forged for the Garlean Empire as Bozja was under occupation. Casimir had bigger dreams, the world out there was to be seen. Those metaphorical chains around his neck had to be broken. So they were.Failing to convince his family to come with him, Casimir left Bozja via pirate ship. The journey was long and pearlious but eventually He landed in Limsa. For a moment, Caismir considered setting up here instead, but the City of Gold enticed him. To Ul'dah he traveled!After exiting the carriage, Casimir found himself in a situation involving an individual who would eventually become his best friend. An incredibly small cactuar, broken and beaten by the road. Be it from guards or other cactuar bullying him, Casimir did not know. He knew one thing though, he couldn't let it die. Bundling the feral cactuar up in his coat, he snuck it into Ul'dah.Managing to rent a room, Casimir tended to the Cactuar. What a battle that was. The feral creature fighting him every step of the way. A moon flew by and soon the little seedkin was healed up. Casimir went to release it back to the wild, but for whatever reason it was hesitant to do so. Casimir wondered if it was fear that kept it with him. Casimir understood the emotion all too well, thus he took him in, naming the Cactuar Carl. A fitting name, he thought.Years went by, Casimir opened up his own little shop. Cactuar Creations. During his time here he had expanded his knowledge. He was no longer just a smithy, but an educated engineer as well.A faithful day in the Quicksand, he met the first and only love of his life. A beautiful Viera woman, hair of blood and eyes as emerald as his own. He had never felt such an emotion before. Casimir and this woman hit it off and became an item.Sadly, things were not meant to be.Casimir did not know why. They were happy for the months they had been together he thought. Depression hit the man like a train, he lost a piece of his soul.With the war in Bozja having picked up, Casimir returned there with one single goal: to die.It didn't take. After partaking there, offering his crafting knowledge to the soldiers, Casimir returned to Ul'dah even more broken and defeated. His life was in turmoil. He wallowed in self-pity and paranoia for an age until people began to speak of a new land. Tural.Casimir packed up his bags and left for the land. He learned
Pictomancy along the way, took in the sights, met people and discovered places he could only dream about. Everkeep, Tender Valley, Shaaloani. Tural in general helped him accept things as they were, and he was healed.For the most part.And now here we are in the present. Casimir often seen doing his own thing, living life freely. The winds blow and he is but a passanger to the road known as Life.

Hooks and OOC

Hooks
Casimir tends to get around, enjoying his travels and such. He may have built you a weapon, shined your armor, fixed some machine for you in the past.Often enough, he tends to surround himself with papers and books, especially when sat on his own within the Quicksands or any other establishment. You can inquire about what he's doing.Sometimes he may be caught sleeping in a place that's deemed unsuited for it.Casimir was there in Bozja, helping to liberate it. Though he never fought on the frontlines, he did help maintain gear for everyone.Casimir is often seen in rather 'modern' clothing, despite being from Bozja. Where did he get those digs from?He's a Hrothgar. He looks big and mean. He's really not though!Cactuar Creations is often seen upon boards as an advertisement, Casimirs name and face plastered on the corner of the leaflet. Maybe you're curious about what this mysterious thing is.You may inquire about the cactuar.
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OOC Notes
I am fine with most RP, despite Casimirs more aloof and carefree nature. Dark themes are fine.Walk ups and tells are hunky dory. I'm not a nervous person, so feel free to poke. If you feel like you need me to approach IC, poke me in a tell and I will happily accomodate you.I am of the BST (UK) Time Zone, but I tend to be able to RP into the later hours.RP partners must be adult aged, goes without saying.You have every right to end RP, much like I do. I do not, however, appreciate any form of ghosting. If a storyline is in progress and you up and vanish without any OOC word, I will be giving a max of two weeks. At that point you hold no right to be upset if my character(s) move on. Such things may also be retconned. It is nothing personal, I just don't want people who have no desire to be involved to have a place in Casimirs story.OOC is OOC, IC is IC. As usual.

Sandstorm of Acceptance

The sound of the wind howling was the song of the night in Shaaloani, the tune going up and down from highs to lows with the rattling and slamming of wooden window shutters slamming against their attached homes. The people whom lived in the small village hurried their animals into their shelters and shoo'd their loved ones back into the home to board up for the night. Defiant, were the sands as the storm kissed at the wood and metal structures to add futher harmony to the song of The Storm.Had it been He knew this was coming He would have bunkered down for the night. He was much too far to turn back now, the large bulky man whom many had come to know as Casimir pelted by the golden grains that flew with the winds. His poncho shielded him from most of the assault, though some sands would occasional find their way to finding fur and skin to give the Hrothgar a little nick. Goggles were pulled up to protect his sight, hood wrapped around his face. He was a green ghost in a sea of browns and yellows.Each step brought him closer to his destination, or so he hoped. Had he lost his way? Did the storm turn him into another direction? He did not know. He could not know. He had to throw caution to the wind and take that leap of faith.Another step, the crunch of sand beneath his boot quietly crying out. The weight of his backpack was not the only thing coming down on him. Casimir reminisced about the past. All the events that led up to this moment in time.His family in Bozja, whom he stayed close with during the occupation of Bozja. Being the middle child, he had both responsibility and admiration for his siblings. He wished to be like his elder brethern. Strong, brave, filled with courage to take the fight where it needed to be. His younger brothers, whom he swore he'd protect no matter what. A promise broken when he fled Bozja on his own. Coward.The first time Casimir stepped up to the gates of Ul'dah. Awe stricken, he was, by the sheer size of its majesty. This moment was when he met Carl. That cactuar lay broken and beaten beside the road, such a small and pitiful creature it was. Casimir picked Carl up and took him to his new home to help the cactuar heal. It was a grueling and difficult task, the seedkin still wild with attempts to lash out at any given moment. Still, Casimir could never let something just die. You're too soft.Those memories of meeting strangers and future clients passed through his mind. He remembered a good deal of them and how he felt most of the time around them. Fear. It was fear that stopped him from moving forwards a lot of the time. How many friends had slipped through his fingers due to his inability to simply function? That fear was what weighed him down so much. You'll never amount to anything.Casimir stops his walking as one more memory raced through his mind. This one immensely cruel. Casimir found himself breathing heavily, clutching the space where his heart occupied. The memory in question - his first and only love.He recalls seeing her from across the Quicksands. Her skin white as pure snow, her eyes a shining green with constrasting hair of crimson to accompany the look. The woman being a viera only added to that natural beauty. Perhaps, the first time in his life he found the courage to talk to someone not because he needed to, but because he wanted to. Those moments with the woman were the fondest memeories he ever had. Until, for reasons unknown, she took her own life. YOU CAUSED THIS.It was too much for him. Maybe he ought to just lay down here in this sandstorm and let it claim him. His thoughts, after all, were rarely wrong. Weren't they?Maybe that was where he was going wrong. He thought too much about the bad things in his life. Blaming himself for them all. He recollects his time here in Tural. The good people, the food, the adventures he had. He recalls the time he tamed an enchanted broomstick in a bar there and helped repair the windmill. The times he brought laughter from his silliness involving an alpaca spitting at him. The camp fire talks, the stories of other people.The feeling in Casimirs chest swelled up. He wanted more of those moments in life. To reach out, to connect with others and bring happiness and joy to the world. It was then he could feel the weight from his very soul lifting and as if on queue, the sandstorm calmed.It was a sign, Casimir thought to himself. A sign to carry on.And he will.