Cassander

    A traveling musician, a scientist in the field of sound, a tourist disguised under official business--Cassander is many things, and he likes to keep it that way. He's quite fond of that feeling that comes with finding something new, be it a discovery in arcane acoustics or just a hole-in-the-wall restaurant that wasn't listed on the tourist guide despite being so good. The term 'sightseeing' doesn't apply to him--he was born completely blind, as it were--but let it never be said he didn't get around.
    Usually accompanied by his service kitbull Smidge, Cassander spends his off-time writing music. Some of it is destined to be sold to studios for television backgrounds and radio tunes, but the stuff he really cares about is far more, uh, experimental in nature. Ever wondered how a sound could make you see stars, or feel as if you're being haunted? Cassander can tell you all about it.

    Cassander started life on a densely inhabited planet, born the only child to middle-class parents with an eye for the finer things in life. Unfortunately the oversaturated market of their current home wasn't welcoming to new faces on the market--so when the call went out for settlers on a new planet colony, a waystation along the next big trade route of the galaxy, the family was among the first to pack their bags and hop a shuttle to the growing outpost.
    As it turned out, this planet was a cold and lonely place, covered with blizzards for much of the year and draped in long, pitch-black nights. But true to the pamphlet's promise, it became a merchant's oasis, the only stop for lightyears around along that galactic highway. Convenience businesses boomed, and to the early browbird went the worm as Cassander's first-wave parents quickly established themselves selling ship parts and repair services to anyone with the stargold to spend.
    While it wasn't really rags to riches, it was a phenomenal success, and Cassander found his material quality of life making leaps and bounds as he grew up. But along with it came the pressure as his parents saw the potential in starting early. Some part of it was love; surely his blindness would be back to bite him, surely it would be better to prepare him as much as possible for a world that could be cold even away from all this ice and snow. But to say it was all love would be misleading. There was pride in being the first of their lines to see such success, and a certain refusal to be the last.
    It wasn't until Cassander picked up music that they decided they'd found his calling. Childish disinterest had kept him from getting into anything technical they had put in front of him, and he showed little interest in school, but an introduction to music in his first year of education quickly blossomed into a passion (and a knack) for it. He took a liking to the violin immediately, supplied with a child-sized version by an enthusiastic music teacher and coming home to practice with excitement. A parent-teacher conference had his teacher practically aglow with praise, and that was the night that the practice schedule went up, and suddenly Cassander's time was more regimented. At first he enjoyed it--passion projects hardly feel like work, they say--but as time passed the spark that had filled him at first began to waver. Something about the weight his parents had placed on music didn't sit quite right with him, and while his childish words couldn't seem to give that idea form, it stuck with him nonetheless.
    The nail in his passion's coffin was the Hinterleague School of Sound. It was a world away, literally and figuratively, set on the backdrop of a lushly temperate planet and surrounded by dreamlike forests that turned the reflective tile floors a mysterious shade of green. It was a gamble to bring him for tryouts, really; Hinterleague was and is prestigious, a boarding school with room only for the best, who would receive their entire primary education with an emphasis on music and acoustics. There was no shortage of famous musicians that had hailed from its halls. But Cassander's parents counted on an old friend on the admissions board, someone with enough sway to get young Cassander--too young, they worried, the youngest to be accepted--a hefty sum of financial aid should the board accept his application. The pressure on his tryout was immense, but perhaps that worry fed into his appropriately somber piece, as it wasn't long until his parents had packed his bags and left him to acclimate to his new home.
    Cassander hated it. He hadn't realized it would be possible to miss the freezing indifference of his home, but here he was. He personally would consider the entirety of his ten years there uneventful. Whether that's really true or he simply doesn't wish to dwell on the subject is difficult to tell. But the end result was a beautiful certificate, a thorough education, and a young adult newly released unto the world with one key thing missing: any passion for music at all. He wouldn't play a note for another three years before an article in a grocery store periodical would catch his eye. Something about the science of sound, the effects on the individual, and the incorporation of magic .... Soon he'd bought a stack of books on the subject, sifting through acoustic jargon he'd learned to parse long before. Something about it fascinated him, and it was as if a switch had been flipped in his very core.
    One ship upgrade and expensive custom soundroom later, Cassander was hard at work on his theories. Nowadays he's built up extensive documentation on the arcane nature of sound and music, as well as physiological effects previously unconfirmed or even unknown. Perhaps he doesn't have the traditional fame of a musician (although he does write some regular music to pay the bills), but anyone with a real interest in acoustic experiments has read something penned by Cassander. Currently studying the acoustic properties of various planets' natural features and resources, he travels constantly, bringing experimental instruments to unusual places to learn more about their resonance and properties. It's very fulfilling, something he never thought he'd come to say.

    Most would immediately confirm Cassander as wry. Where his family is historically grim, he finds refuge in a dry sort of humour, hiding insecurities under jokes and comments that belie the gravity of his concerns. It's something of a protective shell, a fear of showing his true self to the unkind criticisms of the outside, but it's also become what everyone knows him as.
    But despite getting a little harsh at times with those comments, he isn't inherently mean. Cassander is in fact compassionate, someone who doesn't like to see others suffer. He does poorly in making himself vulnerable enough to really connect to others, and offer that intimate sort of support; so instead he assists through actions, going out of his way to help those he really feels for. He sympathizes most with those in situations similar to his own, crushed under some external weight and alienated from those meant to care. But his compassion is not without limits--that self-protectiveness can come right back into play if he feels used, and once retracted it's difficult to get him to extend that helping hand again.
    Cassander has come to enjoy traveling, and finds himself happiest setting out in a new place. Having spent a good chunk of his life stuck in the same places, being forced to stay somewhere too long makes him a bit antsy; whether or not he'd be willing to put down roots someday remains to be seen, but for now the answer seems negative.
    While Cassander will take most things in stride, one thing he particularly does not like is to be babied or coddled, especially by those who see his blindness as weakness. Between his white cane, his service kitbull Smidge, and his own self confidence, he's more than capable of navigating the universe on his own, and has little patience for anyone who thinks otherwise. While not light-sensitive, he did once wear opaque sunglasses to spare others the perceived awkwardness of no eye contact/staring off into space; he's since tossed those, instead taking some pleasure in sensing others hesitate.

• Cassander first got Smidge as a fresh, unmarked kittle, all the way back when he was a child himself. It was trained to assist him in his day to day, helping him move through unfamiliar areas, opening and sorting things for him, and eventually acting like a little personal assistant. They've grown quite close since; Smidge is very protective of Cassander, sometimes to the point of being annoying, but Cassander finds it sweet.
• His two magic aspects are Perception and Illusion. Perception has been very useful in sharpening his hearing enough to let him excel at his acoustic work (although he still definitely protects his hearing), as well as giving him a bit of a sixth sense about the proximity of things around him. Illusion he uses less often, mostly to test sound when he doesn't have an instrument on hand or to occasionally spook someone in jest. All of his illusion use is with any sense except for sight; he's been told the myriad of colours and patterns created when he makes visual illusions are terrifying at best, and he's sort of disappointed he'll never know what it looks like.
• Cassander likes collecting refrigerator magnets from his various travels. He buys only the chunky, heavily textured ones, since they're much easier for him to distinguish.
• He buys his clothes based almost entirely on the feel and fit of the material. The task of picking matching colours falls to Smidge.
• He has a rather plain silver ring on his left index finger, with a simple eye engraved in it. When run over written word, it's charmed to whisper the text into his ear, much like a text-to-speech program reads a webpage.
• Although he's quite happy to navigate on his own, Cassander has been known to let friends and good acquaintances lead him around by the arm. Being so confident as to put his collapsible white cane away while being led is a genuine sign of trust.
• He really likes to cook! It's only a recent hobby, but eventually one gets tired of buying things premade, or eating the same thing all the time ....
• His singing voice is rather low and rich. He doesn't usually work with lyrical songs on his own time, but has been known to record demos in his own voice when composing for a client.
• Cassander suffers from stress nightmares, which make him a bit of a fitful sleeper. He usually needs caffeine to make up for it. On the worst nights he'll bring Smidge with him to sleep.