Tjarn Turntail

Tjarn Turntail

Thirties - young for a Viera

Agender

They/Them

Rava Viera

In the Golmore jungle, a kit named Tjarn developed a close companionship with a yearmate, declaring themselves sisters. Alas, it was not meant to be -- time deepened their friendship, but also tore them apart. When the kits matured, one would be claimed by the village. Tjarn was claimed by the Warders instead, taken away to train. Tjarn's 'sister,' who had lived their short life at his side, was inconsolable. They knew there would come a time when their bodies would change, but they could see no difference between their souls. They raged, they fought, they lashed out at the women who'd raised them together. Eventually they set out with the objective of finding their lost sister, wherever he might be. By then, of course, he was dead. He'd perished in the training; the other kit barely survived tracking down his mentor for the knowledge. Deeply betrayed, both by their people and their identities, the kit abandoned their own life and took their sister's name. Tjarn, turning tail on everything and everyone they'd known. They left, making their way alone as the men were expected to do, and wore their rage like armor against any who'd try to label them.

No concrete thoughts, save vague hostility to the idea that they'd have any spiritual obligations. Pro-nature, reflexively anti-Elemental.

Began their career in Gridania, but while the surroundings were comfortable the rule of the Elementals was not. They declared their allegiance to Limsa as soon as the Grand Company would have them, favoring their willingness to treat with other races over Ul'dah's xenophobia. Despite their reactionary nature, they do hold a grudging respect for the alliance leaders themselves, though they won't hesitate to air their complaints over a cold drink.

Gray Ace. The subject is distasteful to them, and they react very poorly to comments and questions.

Rough. For all their brusqueness they're not cruel, though they can be very nasty to people who make the mistake of objectifying them. Otherwise their rage tends to simmer, leading to the occasional snarling outburst before they retreat to brood alone. Assuming someone doesn't piss them off, and learns to avoid a few trigger phrases that have gotten Thancred into hot water, they can still be decent company once they learn to trust. It's taken time for them to learn to have friends again, but once it's earned they're loyal to a fault. Being an adventurer they've gotten used to offering strangers their help, and liking someone isn't necessary for it. That being said, they carry a lot of misplaced need for protection, revenge, and bloody justice. When they offer their help, their whole heart is in it, no matter how much they grumble and glare daggers.

Deep-voiced and a bit growly.

Stabbing things. Sometimes for money. Lately, people have been whispering that they're a Warrior of Light.

They never really learned healthy coping mechanisms, but at Thancred's urging they did take up Botany. Eventually the call of nature stopped reminding them of the past, and became a meditative solitude instead.  The Gold Saucer is generally too loud for their tastes, but that didn't stop them from winning the grand prize in the Jumbo Cactpot.  They wear a glamoured projection of the Mad Bird Ring whenever gloves wouldn't obscure it, though they'd deny being proud to display it.

Dragoon armor, frequently--anything broody and spiky. Also more practical adventurer fare, though they do sometimes wear the traditional Viera heels, solely for the physical comfort. They do take particular care in selecting clothing that de-emphasizes their bust.  If their hands are visible, they're probably wearing their Mad Bird Ring.