A world-renowned harpist, Altair is nevertheless difficult to get to know, irrespective of the time he spends in the spotlight. Though many know his name, very few can say much more. Reclusive and austere, his steely exterior and borderline-ascetic minimalism conceal a complexity that engulfs his very soul... along with the soul of his 'companion', a weakened eldritch god that has taken residence within his body. This god, presiding over strange matter, has unwillingly lent its abilities to him, though this has come with unforeseen consequences and perhaps a scrap of regret.
Despite his fame, Altair is known to be a cynical and jaded man, though few would guess the reason to be the centuries he's spent on Earth. Isolated by the ethically questionable effects of his own supernatural abilities, most of Altair's time is spent sequestered in his home with his dog... and the nagging voice of the god living in his head.

--- first impressions ---
A tall man at 6'3" and typically clad in all black, Altair cuts an intimidating figure thanks in part to the glacial aura that radiates from him. Though not unkind, he's a man of few words in most cases, and those words are often direct and blunt, even if softly spoken.
Though beauty is subjective, it's difficult not to perceive him as strikingly handsome by most any standard. Perhaps even... too much so? His features are fairly angular and strong, with a prominent jawline and pointed chin, and the olive of his gaze is weaponized into an intense stare with long, dark lashes. His cheeks and the bridge of his nose are accented by a scattering of freckles, and he'd certainly have more were it not for his lack of time in the sun.
As for his body, Altair is fairly well-muscled, but sleek and elongated in form, giving off a feeling of elegance. His arms and hands are most often bandaged in public, but were one to have the rare privilege of seeing beneath the gauze, they'd see significant disfigurement. His hands are damaged thanks to his obsessive dedication to his instrument, and his arms are heavily scarred from self-harm. Most of the scars are not fresh, but on rare occasions, new ones may appear.
Altair is quiet, but when he speaks his words are carefully-chosen and thoughtful. He doesn't shy away from telling things like they are, but he is far from cruel despite the lack of comfort in his speech. Overall he seems like a controlled man of an even temperament, and perhaps notably repressed, but flickers of something tempestuous writhe beneath the surface...

--- backstory ---
Altair grew up several centuries ago in a strict, controlling, and conservative family. They expected nothing but perfection from him and his two older sisters, to whom Altair was always trying to measure up. Unlike them, Altair had difficulties with concentration at a young age, easily becoming distracted during lessons and performing poorly in academics despite his intelligence. Though he eventually developed skills for managing his difficulties at maintaining attention, it was little thanks to his family, who looked down at him and perceived him as indolent.
Through his childhood and adolescence, Altair's family put him through a variety of different skills and academic explorations before eventually settling on something for which he seemed to have a natural gift- the harp. Unlike some other things he'd tried, such as the violin and piano, Altair had passion for the instrument, and took to it well. Frankly, he was considered a prodigy, even though he hadn't discovered his proficiency at this instrument at a very young age. Finally seeing promise in their son after years of belittlement, Altair's parents found him a teacher. Unfortunately, the relationship between Altair and his mentor was incredibly difficult, and would pose a massive challenge in his life, even compared to his restrictive and authoritarian parents.
Frankly, he hated her. And he was obsessed with her. She was beautiful, multi-talented, incredible at the harp. She destroyed his pride, knowing that no matter how much he tried, he couldn't make his playing sound like hers. Still, she pushed and pushed him to the brink, leading him nearly to question whether he even wanted to be a harpist at all. However, Altair had willpower, and that was what drove him forward. Fueled by spite and his own desire to succeed, he pushed on beneath the mentor who he hated... and frankly, he was obsessed with her. It would almost make sense to loved her, in spite of his hate, though not in a carnal or even romantic way. In his eyes, she was everything he was not. If he was like her, his parents would love him more, his sisters would take him seriously, the world would see him differently, he could have everything he wanted... How could he know of Isolde's supernatural nature? How could he know that her seeming perfection was the result of centuries of development, and that they were lifetimes apart? No, in Altair's eyes, he could achieve what Isolde had. He just had to push himself harder, and harder, and harder.
Meanwhile, something was happening, far, far away...
Thanks to the curse of a being from space, an ancient eldritch god- the god of strange matter- was weakening. Frail and decrepit, the abomination was a shadow of what it once was, its grotesque and incomprehensible form shriveled into near-nothingness. Unable to sustain itself this way any longer, it sought a vessel to occupy in order to sustain itself while its brethren sought a cure for the curse. Sensing Altair's desperation and longing, it knew it had found the perfect target. But- to its shock- it was so weak that it could not even take over Altair's soul and replace it with its own. And so, speaking to him telepathically, it offered him a false 'deal': invite it to share his body, and he would have everything he wanted. Immortality. Talent. Perfection. To Altair, it was obvious what he had to do.
The god, of course, planned to take him over fully, to consume his soul and leave behind a husk that it could occupy. This, however, did not happen.
Altair's willpower was too strong, his soul too robust. Against a god at its full power, he wouldn't have been able to stand a chance, a mere grain of sand in the wake of such incredible power. Thanks to Ariel's curse, though, the god of strange matter was instead subsumed into his body. There they were, two souls in one vessel- and Altair was still its pilot. Trapped within, the god could only speak to him in his head... but inadvertently, its presence granted Altair the powers it had promised. He could no longer die. Everything seemed brighter, every sense more acute. And with time, he changed... and so did the people around him.
Isolde, however, continued being perfection. But now, Altair could catch up to her. And he did... almost. Eventually, he achieved great fame, though he was always seen as one step behind Isolde. Even when their performance skill was equally matched, she was still renowned for her composition. His, for now, simply could not measure up, though he was praised by critics. And so he continues to pursue perfection, though only time will tell if he is successful- or whether the god's curse will be lifted and he will be consumed whole.
(More will be coming on an extended profile page instead of this one.)

--- abilities ---
Altair is immortal. He can be wounded and is not much more physically resilient than a human, but he regenerates, and can 'die' before coming back to life.
The rest of his abilities are centered around the properties of strange matter, a bizarre substance found primarily in the core of neutron stars. Considered to be the 'perfect matter', this material is indestructible and unchangeable. Everything it touches, too, turns into strange matter. This implies significant things for Altair's situation, whether he likes it or not.
Over the years, Altair has become more 'perfect', based off of his own subjective standards. More beautiful, more intelligent, more talented... though he is nevertheless not without deep and fatal flaws. And this, too, happens to those around him. Though the process is slow, Altair unintentionally transforms other entities to be more 'perfect' in his eyes. They become easier to get along with, more skilled, more competent... and they begin to adopt Altair's own views, becoming exactly what he wants them to be. This is in part the reason for his reticence: not only does he question the ethical implications of such transformation, he doesn't see any of his relationships as 'real' anymore. How can he tell if someone truly cares about him, or if his powers simply made it so? If he concentrates, he can prevent this from happening to an individual with whom he is connected, but it requires mental effort. He can also reverse the process with some concentration.
If Altair intentionally chooses to convert someone, he can essentially turn them into a drone, converting them into 'perfection'. They seek only to fulfill his desires; they believe what he believes, they are his vision of perfect. Though it fades, the process is initially painful and distressing for the victim, who experiences severe cognitive dissonance depending on how different their desires are from what Altair envisions for them. Generally, he uses this power only when he feels he has to, and feels a deep sense of guilt for the suffering it initially inflicts. Results may vary depending on the individual's willpower, mental fortitude, and any supernatural abilities they may have.
He can constantly hear the voice of the god living in his body, though you wouldn't be able to tell from looking at him- he's certainly learned how to tune it out.

--- personality ---
A modern ascetic, it'd be easy to describe Altair as uptight and repressed. He seems to resent hedonism, and sometimes it seems as though he is resistant even to pleasure itself, seeking instead to devote himself entirely to his craft. In his eyes, it is the only way he can attain happiness, and his time with the harp is now the only time he feels genuine peace. His discipline is incredibly powerful, and it's easy to see how supernatural powers pushed him over the edge into 'perfection.' However, he is still human, even with his added attributes.
Despite his cold and stoic exterior, Altair is quite sensitive- sometimes debilitatingly so. Though he's not easily influenced or manipulated, he takes others very seriously and compares himself to everyone around him incessantly. He can't help himself- it's like a reflex, perhaps thanks to his childhood being constantly compared to his older sisters. He's deeply depressed- after all this time, he still hasn't come close to true satisfaction, even if he has approached perfection. Not to mention, of course, that there's an irritating god constantly picking at him in his head.
Though austere, Altair isn't without a sense of humor. His wit is sarcastic and dry, often with a dark edge, and he's known for his poker face- sometimes it's hard to tell if he's actually making a joke. Moreover, he's also not without desires, though he tries to make it seem as though his only preoccupation in life is the harp. He longs for human connection, especially after all of these years of isolation, but feels almost as though he's living in a 'simulation': Isolde and one other person are the only individuals he knows he can't influence, and his relationship with both is... fraught. He's very lonely, keeping the company of his dog and his many plants. After all, how can he know whether someone's feelings toward him are genuine when his abilities control how they feel? How can he truly exist in the world when the world molds itself around him? Perhaps certain others would bask in this and call it a paradise, but not Altair.
It's difficult for Altair to admit to wanting anything other than music, and he feels guilty for it. Indeed, he feels guilt often: guilt for his hatred, his jealousy, and his abilities. Ye he also revels in these, succumbing easily to his emotions despite his lack of outbursts. It's difficult to tell when he has something boiling underneath the surface, and when he does he'd rather sequester himself away than express any of it. He can't help but hate Isolde after all of these years, and he constantly thinks of her, along with anyone else he sees as competition: are they jealous of him? Are they angry? He succumbs easily to the trivialities of rivalry.

--- trivia ---
- Altair has a black Great Dane named Cleo. She's incredibly intelligent and obedient thanks to his perfecting influence.
- The eldritch god sharing Altair's body refuses to give any kind of pronounceable, understandable name for itself- its name is difficult to even comprehend, let alone pronounce for a human. Because of that, Altair has named it Jenkins, much to its chagrin.
- Altair loves plants and taking care of them. His house is full of them. They're almost oddly healthy and lush.
- Though he occasionally dabbles in some of the instruments of his past, like the piano and violin, he generally avoids them due to discomfort with not being instantly the best at them. Even with his abilities, practice still makes perfect, and being anything less than a prodigy at something on the first try is deeply painful to him at this point.
- He's too shy to show almost anyone, but he's been dabbling in visual art of various kinds. He hasn't settled on any specific medium yet, but the subject matter is almost always haunting, disturbing, and dark.
- His trenchcoats and other attire tend to have a ton of pockets, and as such he's known to be carrying an impressive array of random objects around at any one time. You never know what you might need.