ex mortis
sacha kagon
Unnerving. Like the silent stench of the grave has refused to slough off despite scrubbing 'til raw. A claw tracing a line down the center of your spine. Breath and heartbeat horribly, horribly slow.
But no one gets up after death— there is no applause— there is only silence and some second-hand clothes, and that's— death—
A FFXIV CARRD
written and illustrated by @oftheholybooty.
disclaimers
contains discussions of death, ptsd, and morbid themes.
OBITUARY.
OOC
hi! i'm deja or dove (they/she, 20+, CST time) and sacha is my little guy.i like to pop into certain RP venues in NA when i can, but usually stand in a corner silently because i enjoy peoplewatching. i'm less likely to just walk up and start rping because i'm incredibly shy, but anyone is welcome to come talk!!i trust friends with him in the way of shipping, and think AUs are fun. you're welcome to flirt with him and embarrass him, but know that it's unlikely to come to anything serious!my twitter is @oftheholybooty!
VIVISECTION.
SPLIT ME WIDE OPEN
classes drk, pld, whm, rpr
homeland the azim steppe
patron nhaama, the dusk mother
motifs wolves, winter, life and death, fangs, claws, guilt, identity, the moon, family, smoke, roses, lilacs
name SACHA KAGON
age ~28-30 YEARS OLD
gender CIS MALE
pronouns HE/HIM
birthdate 31st sun of the 1st umbral moon (Feb 28)
height 7'6" (229 CM)
about.
Sacha is a quiet man. Intimidating, stoic, and gruff at a glance, but under the skin, gentle and compassionate. He's fairly laid-back, level headed, and will avoid a fight whenever possible; he doesn't enjoy hurting people or being overtly cruel. Jokes at his expense seem to roll right off his back, as he has little ego to be hurt.
He tends to flounder under any kind of spotlight and doesn't like attention being on him. Easily embarrassed and susceptible to being teased by those close to him. When he becomes more comfortable, however, he can tease right back and be quite cheeky. Any charm he may display is entirely accidental, though.He has an "interesting" relationship to death— given that he was killed, and was revived under mysterious circumstances. His identity is thrown into question after living again, wondering if his own body even belongs to him anymore. It's a challenging topic to get out of him, as it can be overly dour and difficult to understand his feelings. Post traumatic stress left him selectively mute for a long time, and even now, he does not speak at length. He suffers from chronic pain and insomnia brought on by his death. His mortal wound is scarred over, but still aches terribly when the weather is bad, leaving him bedridden without pain relief of some kind.
Other facts.
☾ Pansexual, no gender preference
☾ Born with black hair, but post-death and resurrection, it became stark white.
☾ For those sensitive, his aether is.. weird. Like that of a dying man's. It gives an uncomfortable feeling.
☾ Major dog person, and animals in general make him melt.
☾ He's an incredible cook and feeding his loved ones is his love language ♡
☾ Plays guitar as a hobby. He's decent at it, though not one for singing.
☾ Enjoys soaking in hot baths.
☾ Has a terminal case of cold hands.
☾ Fluent in Eorzean and Hingan sign language, and sometimes prefers to pantomime his needs when speaking is difficult for him.
☾ Likes tea over coffee. His favorites are chamomile and pai mu tan.
☾ His younger sister, Alina, is 14 years his junior and he adores her. He's very good with kids.
☾ Shockingly flexible for such a large and bulky man. He knows his stretches.
☾ Sacha has an extremely keen sense of smell and hearing. He definitely knows what you smell like and identifies familiar people by their scent and footsteps as soon as they enter a room, even over a crowd.
AUTOPSY.
hungry dogs are never loyal
The Kagon tribe is a clan of Xaela living nomadically on the plains of the Azim Steppe who fervently worship the Dusk Mother and shun the Dawn Father. To step into the light of the sun is to succumb to evil; thus, the tribe is nocturnal and largely unusually pale for a fair-weather locale. It was to this family that Sacha was born and raised.Always eager to please his loving mother, Svetlana, and prove his usefulness to the tribe, he quickly picked up weapons to train and hunt. At 13 years old, he completed the gauntlet of Bardam's Mettle and was considered a proper warrior of the Kagon as a result. A year later, his baby half-sister, Alina, would be born.It was around age 17 that he met a boy the same age on the battlefield of his first Naadam— a feisty boy of the Oronir tribe named Cadenza. Despite their tribe's diametrically opposed values, they became friends and would sneak off in the night to hang around each other.
They were companions for years. Cadenza was happy with their lot in life, wanting for nothing more than fighting for power and glory. Maybe he even had dreams of becoming khagan of the Steppe one day. Sacha held no such dreams, and preferred quietly taking care of his family. They avoided each other during each year's Naadam, so their friendship would not be exposed and neither had to hurt the other.
The year Sacha turned 22, however, their meeting in battle was unavoidable. The Oronir and Kagon had kicked up a particularly nasty rivalry in recent months over territory and food sources, not to mention their tribe's beliefs naturally pit them against one another. Both clans were out for blood. When Sacha inevitably came to blows against Cadenza, he held back, hoping for a quick escape and apologizing for any bruises he may have left.Instead, what he found was a blade between his ribs. He fell, staring up at his closest friend. He could not remember the expression on Cadenza's face. Was this intentional? Was he sought out specifically because he would be an easy target? Or did Cadenza feel pushed to action by his tribe's vitriol? All that Sacha was left with was a hole in his lung and an agonizing death. He slipped away into cold nothingness.
A day later, he awoke. He did not know how. His mortal wound had miraculously— could this awful thing be called miraculous?— scarred over. He was still caked in his own blood, horrified, and alone. An uncanny feeling settled in his stomach. He was not supposed to be here.He dragged himself away. He could not return to his family like this. After months, he found himself in Kugane, where he lived doing odd jobs for gil to keep himself afloat. The real money-maker, though, was illegal pit fighting. Feeling like his own body had betrayed him, still haunted by pain and the chill of death, he threw himself into fighting as if to punish himself. It kept a roof over his head. But after enough time (and being stabbed in the abdomen by an opponent who snuck in a knife), he left that too. He became a bartender for the graveyard shift of some small dive bar, saving whatever money he could.Years passed. He still felt like a stranger to himself. He could not truly bear his heart to the first woman he fell in love with, another xaela named Peony, because the wounds still were too raw. He ran away again. A ship took him across the sea to Eorzea, where he now resides as a traveling mercenary and handyman. His travels far from home have softened his edges. So has his traveling companion and love of his life, a viera named Phersu.He likes the small things now. Cooking, peoplewatching, fishing. Bars and taverns still serve as a comfort for him. Despite everything, he's a gentle man.
BURIAL.
for my dearly loved ghost
