Dayán Agbayani

Though outwardly lackadaisical and vain, you would be wise to never let your guard down around Dayán— they’ll stop at nothing to get what they want. Even if they have to walk all over some people in his four-inch platform heels to make it happen. He perfumes himself with orchid-water and quite fittingly bearing the wings of a mockingbird, ready to dance circles around their opponents no matter the occasion. Business, combat, pleasure— the steps remain the same, and Dayán has never been one to lose his tempo.

As the sole child of two travelers — one a merchant and the other a doctor — much of their childhood was mired in boredom; though Dayán never doubted that they loved him, it was uncommon for even one parent to be home for longer than a week at a time, let alone both of them. As such, he became predisposed to both socializing and thrill-seeking at an early age as they looked for ways to supply their own entertainment.

Their cutthroat approach to life makes them well-suited to his current bureaucratic role as an Alagad; in Dayán's own words, they come into work every day to "boss up and get money" and have little interest in making friends or showing leniency while doing their job. But the second he clocks out for the day, it's another story entirely.

Dayán is most alive when bathed in the glow of the city's nightlife; liquor glass in hand, sirenlike amidst a transient, ever-shifting throng of fellow revelers. Many are vagabonds — desperate for a placebo, to overindulge and sink into sticky-sweet numbness until morning — but Dayán is not such a creature.

Rather, they find endless fascination in the ecosystem that forms each night within the bacchanal spaces of taverns and dance halls; a microcosmos of faceless stars, unbinding themselves from the trappings and conventions of whoever they have been in daylight, whoever they may once again become when they depart.

When one eschews societal roles and social conventions, what is left to take the helm? Impulse. Desire. That is what Dayán comes here to see.

After all, they've always been inquisitive— in a catlike, self-serving way that cares little for the why and how of things. A pyromaniac who sparks a fire not to keep himself warm, but to watch the kindling dance and whither as it gives rise to blinding heat.

Though if you were to ask Dayán about this yourself, he'd answer it much more concisely: "I like to have fun. Duh."