de Famfræn, A Profile [in detail]
Name: Sirius fir Sterrl de Famfræn [sɪɹɪʊs fə stəɹl də famfɹe:n] or: [Si-ri-us fer St-url de Famf-rain]
Age: 22
Race: Hume
Gender: Male
Origin: Ivalice
Appearance: Sirius is almost constantly clad in a pair of extremely flattering black leather pants which are somewhat tight-fitting around the arse area. He knows that he’s sexy, and the pants just prove his somewhat arrogant nature. They’re long enough to almost cover his boots, but he tucks the surplus material into the wide tops so that it bunches attractively, tightening at his shapely calves.
Slung diagonally across his hips is a wide, brown leather belt from which hangs the scabbard for Durrendal (his longsword). This scabbard is rather long, as it obviously has to be, since the sword is 42 inches long, and it’s in hardened brown leather, strapped to Sirius’s waist via a complex series of slender belts.
Sirius prefers to go shirtless at all times, but for the sake of decency, and to save all the buxom lasses swooning every time they see him, he deigns to wear a light cotton shirt dyed in a dark hue of red/purple. He never fastens his shirt all the way to the neck, preferring to leave it open halfway down his chest, only fastening the bottom three silver buttons. The sleeves of his shirt are baggy and loose, to allow as much air to flow around his tanned skin as possible - he has a dark complexion from almost constant exposure to the sun while flying his airship.
Sirius is tall, standing at just over 6’4”, although his sturdy boots probably add a few inches to the height. His hair is sun-bleached blonde at the tips, once again from spending hours at the helm, but the bits that the sun didn’t reach are dark brown. His hair is cut short to keep it out of his eyes, but it’s not so short that he has a crew cut. It spikes ever-so-slightly on the top, and curls around his ears and at the nape of his neck. If Sirius ever let his hair grow, and he has done that at times, it falls in beautiful brown curls.
His eyes are the most soulful dark brown, topped by long lashes which girls would kill for. He has this look, like a kicked puppy. If he turns those eyes on any girl, they’ll melt in a second and do whatever the hell he wants them to.
And, finally, his nose is extremely on the wonky side as a result of it being broken about three times by various people. He's pretty delicate about the nose situation, so bring it up at your own peril.
Personality: Sirius is, first and foremost, a charmer. It’s like charm was built into his genetic code or something, it comes so naturally to him. He loves words and the way beautiful prose or poetry feels in his mouth, and he’s been a book lover ever since he was old enough to read. Coming from a rich and influential family as he did, he had access to a gigantic library from as far back as he can remember, and this is probably what spawned his love of words and literature.
He has a delicate turn of phrase and a soft way of speaking, but although he doesn't often raises his voice, he almost always commands attention from anyone nearby. It could be something to do with his voice, which is like rich melted chocolate, or it could simply be his huge amount of charisma, or his utmost gallantry towards ladies at all times.
He has perfect manners and out of long practice acts like a true gentleman. Which is strange, when you consider that he’s actually a pirate of the skies.
He spends a lot of time legging it from higher level monsters, the law, fathers of women he's dehymenated outside wedlock, bartenders after tab-payment, and, on very few occasions, women trying to get into his pants. Therefore he can put on a startling turn of speed when the situation calls for it, which is usually only outmatched by Stroud, who runs rather like a drunken chicken in order to confuse his pursuers.
For all his impeccable manners, there’s something of impatience in Sirius. He’s been known to make snap decisions without really thinking about the consequences; he doesn’t have any patience with anyone he sees as stupid or narrow-minded, and he especially hates being forced into doing something he doesn’t want to do. Which is the single huge reason for his pirating.
Anyone who doesn’t know him well enough would automatically assume that he’s an arrogant bastard, which is true, in a way. He knows exactly how gorgeous he is, and he plays to that strength at all times.
History: Born into the extremely wealthy and influential de Famfræn family, Sirius was raised by nannies and various servants, and only saw his parents at the evening meal, which were so stuffily formal that he might as well not have seen them at all.
He had a series of tutors who drilled him daily in languages, manners and other lordly pursuits, such as hunting and fencing and the like. Most of his free time was spent in the library, alone, reading stories of sky pirates and adventurers and fair maidens with a slight tinge of bitterness that their lives were so much more interesting than his.
When he was 18, and right in the middle of being primed for the taking over of all the estates and riches of the de Famfræn family, he was overcome by an urge, an impulse, a need to escape this life of immense dullness. So he ran away from home, sure that his parents wouldn’t even notice his absence for at least a day, giving him an excellent head-start. Being an intelligent boy, he had the sense to take with him a very large sum of money. Enough, indeed, to purchase himself an airship and a crew. On the maiden voyage, he christened the ship “Wolfstar” and quaffed a pitcher of wine on her hull, spilling the rest upon her decks for luck.
For three years after, Sirius made an excellent living pirating, raiding and generally being a scurvy knave with his first mate, Adair Stroud, with whom he has a working relationship of "first dibs on the women and 60:40 treasure split". He can trust Adair to have his back - for as long as he feels like it, anyway, and as long as the adventure and money doesn't run out.
Weapon Type: One-handed sword
Weapon: Sirius uses a longsword, which he calls Durrendal, and its blade is approximately 42 inches in length, with a further 13 inches of hilt wrapped tightly in deep red leather strips to provide a good grip. As a pommel stone, Durrendal has a blood red ruby about the size of an egg set firmly in a mythril holder.
The entire longsword is made of mythril, but the metal was treated when it was forged so that it shimmers with black, instead of the usual bright silvery-colour of mythril.
Etched all the way along the blade is a design of ivy and trailing plants which branch off the deep blood-channel which runs down the centre of Durrendal to the tip, where it splits the point in two. These etchings are in a red as deep as the ruby pommel, which contrasts beautifully with the black of the blade.
Other: Don't mention a) Mandragora Prince, b) The Bloody Trickster, c) Magick Pots, d) weird men who get you drunk and leave you in a jail cell where you wake up in a suspicious situation with one Adair Stroud and all your friends, the genitals. Also, dancing bastard men who get all the women, those types who favour vegetables in an overly familiar fashion and that time when they crashed on the Unnamed Continent and everything pretty much went downhill from there.