Character: Fran
Canon:
Final Fantasy XIIAge: Over 50 years old, but appears mid-twenties.
Job: Inter Species Relations Counselor
Canon: Political turmoil and war have ripped through Ivalice. But behind the flimsy pretext for war is a battle to possess stones of great power and change the course of history itself. In grand RPG tradition, the only hope for peace and salvation is a mix of secret royalty, disgraced knights, thieves and pirates. Only their intervention can stop those who would meddle in both the flow of human history or of the semi-tangible magick called Mist. The oldest and arguably wisest of the party is Fran.
Fran is a viera, a race of long lived rabbit-featured people who are deeply in tune with nature. Being the only non-hume (human) of the party she has a unique perspective on events and primarily acts as a voice of wisdom for her party. She doesn’t speak often, and when she does she comes off as calm if not a bit cold. But under her detached exterior she is dedicated to helping her friends and willing to sacrifice herself if necessary. Fran also has the unique ability to sense the Mist, though it’s not always good for her.
Sample Post:
The gods toy with me. I was told this job would include taking care of undead but I did not expect to interpret that statement in such a way. My experience does not lie in helping abominations like you create lasting friendships but in sending your kind to a lasting end. Now that I’m here, it matters little. I have been contracted and I will not disappoint. Yet do not take my acceptance of this task as leave to treat me any way you wish. No matter your fondness for the game, the next one of you who tries to “pat the bunny” will not be spared.
Despite your best efforts thus far, this is not the worst job I have taken. I understand your wish to roam far and see with your own eyes the world. Even those lacking proper eyes may still experience such freedom. Should you be willing to pay the price we all must pay to leave our homes, then I will help in what ways I can. You have far to go before you will be accepted among outlanders. With work you may yet achieve your goals.
To that end, you requested that I talk to you about getting to the brains of the humes. An admirable attempt, that. But I am not so easily fooled. With your current skill, against a group of even half-witted humes, your chances are too small to count. No matter your numbers, you are harmless and armless in equal measures. Had I will to teach you, you would not have strength of soul or body to learn. I suggest you look past this dream of brains and seek something you can more easily sink your teeth into. Strength may be found where you least expect.
Look to your wood. The Mist here is strong, but in a way unlike any I’ve felt before. Where usually it burns, this Mist has a light touch. It seems the will of this wood is to tease rather than assault the senses. A small kindness, but still a kindness. It seems the wood cares a great deal for you, despite your unfortunate condition. You would do well to learn from her. Everywhere you look there are symbols of her strength and life. Do you not wish to stand erect and tall as the trees do? Or will you stand by and let your wood go soft?
Voting was
here. Thanks! ♥