Personality

❤ vain. vain as hell. would be the guy that stops to check himself out and fix his hair in the middle of a run for his life. pretty boy, but kind of an airhead.

❤ could probably fight you, but in the interest of self-preservation, would rather run away - even if you insulted his hair.

❤ waxes poetic about milky twilights and hollow eyes. falls in love all the time, with everything and everyone he's allowed to. will hold the door open for you if you're pretty, even if you spit on him.

❤ would do anything for the attention of someone he likes, including putting himself needlessly in danger. he's as stupid as he is devoted.

❤ always searching for a distraction from the loss of his family, which still haunts him.

❤ terrified of becoming cynical; desperately hopeful that tomorrow will be better.

History

❤ born at the stroke of midnight to a noble and his wife on one rainy spring night in nymene. his father was happier than ever to finally meet him. his mother cried, and then never stopped.

❤ as a child, was very concerned with his mother's moods, yet was always distracted by his relentlessly optimistic father. for the beginning of his life, he was raised close by his father's side, learning his manners and charisma from a man who was the epitome of a gentleman. once, his father made a butterfly appear to cure one of a young castor's tantrums - it was as if he had conjured it by magic! but the boy knew better: magic was dangerous, and his father was not a dangerous man.

❤ castor was attended to by the best tutors his parents could afford as he was growing, but he was often distracted and desperately craved the attention of his mother, who routinely locked herself away in her chambers for hours, sometimes days, at a time. his father and his tutors all tried to get him interested in military history, but he tired of it easily. he only seemed interested in defending himself when it came to sparring, though he was capable of really fighting if he was feeling up to it.

❤ the plan was to enlist him in the military once he was old enough, in order to raise him up into a good man and a good soldier, before he came into his own as a nobleman. however, the untimely appearance of his magic at the tender age of fourteen changed everything.

❤ at first, he was terrified ... then knew, without a doubt, that he had to hide it from everyone ever. he knew what happened to mages in his family. they were never seen, heard from, or spoken about again except to be shushed out of conversation. he struggled, though. wouldn't his father still love him? what about his mother?

❤ he wasn't able to hide it for long. he cried when his mother found him in the bath with starlight swirling around him, little constellations like blossoms littering his hair. she held him. she cried too. his father heard them, and came running, only to sigh at the doorway, and shake his head.

❤ his parents told no one, for fear it would bring shame upon their house. instead, they carefully orchestrated his departure to ivras without raising any bells or whistles. of course, he had to go to ivras. it was the only place a mage could belong, or so he was told.

❤ he was supposed to meet a distant cousin in ivras, who would help him settle down and get adjusted to his new life living as a mage, but as he kissed his mother good-bye and saw the tears in her eyes for the final time, he got the strangest feeling that something was not quite right.

❤ when he arrived in ivras, the cousin he was supposed to meet was sleeping off the drink in the local gutter. they handed castor a fistful of coin, and told the kid to get lost - which he promptly did.

❤ it's been a tough six years, but he's survived on his looks and charm alone, talking lonely men and women out of their earnings easily over a few drinks and desperately coping with any residual pain by indulging in drink and drugs himself - and the company of pretty people, of course.

illusionist