Armand Bast

Armand Bast Oct 1, 2018 22:34:01 GMT -8

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Post by Etherelle on Oct 1, 2018 22:34:01 GMT -8

History

Born a bastard child of a nameless French Noble soprano and her Spanish butler, a pale-eyed newborn was abandoned at the church of San Sebastian in the town of its nomenclature. Without a name, he was given purpose and identity as Armand Bast by Father Bautista and Father Rosando, the church's reigning Hunters, and was soon following behind in their footsteps. However, despite being raised in the light, others assumed that a shadow hung over Armand, something left behind by the impure nature of his birth, something in his blood. So at the behest of the church, Armand and his raising became a challenge, a Nature-Nurture test, a way to study whether or not it was genetics or environment which affected an individuals goodness, their purity. Fortunately, through the years as he grew up, Armand eventually proved to them, with the guidance of his caretakers, that he was every bit as good and pious as anyone else in the church, if not more so. He displayed an enormous capacity for sympathy, a frighteningly resolute faith, and a curious aptitude for magic. Willpower and faith were his cornerstones, but the photosensitivity they noticed from his youth became his bane. Granted light grey eyes by his blood and sour genetics besides, Armand unfortunately could not overcome his sensitivity to light, which would bring on migraines and sore sight, near blind in some cases. In order to combat his weakness, young Armand took to wearing a pair of tinted dark, near black, circular glasses and was able to perform his tasks regardless, learning the path of the pious and resolutely pursuing his faith and the footsteps of his fathers. During the long absence of one of his guardians who had been sent away on important hunts, Armand became a priest, a man of the cloth, providing nothing but pride to his guardian through letters and recounted tales as he was ordained by the church. He trained in the ways of the Hunter as he grew older still, trained restlessly by his remaining guardian, and he excelled as a student of medicine and healing. While doctoring was his specialty, his skill in holy magic shone in tandem, despite his adversity to light, and he could create an armory of light itself, plucking weapons from the air to use in practice. Armand bore great promise, fantastic prospects, and new hope for the clergy, however, not everyone was convinced of his purity. Father Rosando doubted him as much as he did when he found him bundled and forgotten on the steps, wailing in the blistering sunlight. So he continued the tests. No one knew of the abuse young Armand endured behind closed doors. How could they? Armand had, in all recounts, been raised and trained in solitary, purposefully secluded from the rest of the church for the sake of the test, and under the tutelage of only one of his guardians, something in his training had gone awry. Eventually, circumstances would bring an end to his life as a quiet student and send him to the corner of the world known as Streitstadt, arriving with battered heart and exhausted body, as a frantic fledgling hunter searching for his long lost guardian.

Backstory

Shame descended upon a certain French Soprano of high caliber and her subservient butler in the city of Bordeaux, when they discovered that there would be consequences to their secret affair: A child. Fear gripped the reluctant mother, and tentative excitement inspired the would-be father, however, such a thing could not be known, could not be advertised or unleashed. A famous soprano and her butler? Out of cast, and out of wedlock? A bastard? The secret was to be squelched and hidden away, erased from existence before it could ever be known. Her reputation was at stake. So, by hiding the pregnancy under elaborate clothes and costumes, the Soprano hid her sin, and the moment she gave birth to her child, he was wrapped up and taken away by the wet nurse, spirited from her life so that it was like it never happened. Take him somewhere far away, she had been told, make it so that he could never find his way back, make him disappear. Had it been an earlier time, perhaps they would have left the child in a well, in the forest, drop him into the river, but these were civilized times. Take him to a church. It was to the grief of the father, the Spanish butler, that he discovered the actions of the Soprano too late. With hopes that he could perhaps raise the child in secret, he begged the Soprano to tell him where he could find his son, but alas, the babe was gone. The Soprano needed to erase this secret, this child born of faithlessness and passion, no matter the cost, and with it, she discharged the butler, leaving him to wander in desperate search for his son.

Unbeknownst to him, the wet nurse, with child wrapped tight to her chest, had left under the cover of night for the distant land of Spain, diving deep into Basque county to follow the rumors of a church who hid and reclaimed forgotten children and orphans. They were searching for children, she had heard, and there was something odd about this one. Something strange. Sometimes, she thought she saw things, things that didn't make sense to her waking eyes, when the babe squalled and cried, and such things were the aim of this far away church. She traveled for nearly a fortnight before she came to the town of San Sebastian, a coastal community nestled along a curving bay. It was there that she delivered the unwanted child to an altar to the Saint of the town's nomenclature and unto the will of the church, leaving him with hastily scrawled note. Please take this poor bastard, and grant him sanctuary, take him and make him more than what he is right now, nothing. It would be an appropriate way to right a wrong, or so she believed. Let the babe be judged in the holy eyes of the heavenly court. She left, though not without being spied by a pair of watchful priests.

It was only known to the secret society of hunters, the Clergy of the Sanctuary of San Sebastian, that children given to the altar were not the same as those delivered to the nearby orphanage. A child had not been left there in nearly a decade, so it was with great curiosity that the two drew closer, surprised to find a babe not nearly two weeks old, left bundled and wailing against Saint Sebastian's feet. Guillem Bautista and his partner, Anton Rosando, Cazadores de Luz y Sombra, picked up the child, surprised to find a dimly lit glow beneath the child's head. Light. It was a child, hardly a few days old, who could summon light.

Guillem identified the glow instantly, having the ability to summon light himself, though it had not been recorded in nearly a century to have a child who could demonstrate the ability so early. It was unheard of. So, excited and eager, Guillem Bautista requested to take on the child as his own, having long desired children though unable to produce them himself, and the Hunters of San Sebastian agreed, though not without a challenge, a proposal. He could raise the child, along with his partner, as long as they agreed to raise him in an isolated and protected environment, in order to study the nature and the breadth of the child's ability. They were desperate to recreate the child's abilities, to discover the secret behind the summoning of light, and to have a child born with the ability provided a scholarly opportunity that could not be reproduced or wasted. What was it about him, his circumstances, his birth, his nature, that granted him such a rare skill? He was a bastard, a mistake, an unplanned life created from infidelity, how could it be possible that he could summon light? Could it be possible, they wondered, to craft a life into purity? To make a bastard child made a man of the cloth? A Cazadore de Luz? Considering the ill begot way the child entered the world, the bad blood, the lies, the lust, the clergy wondered if the child was doomed by the nature of his blood, or if they could forge him into a pious hunter, a priest of light. With both Guillem and Anton as his caretakers, they would study the child in his isolated environment, this protected test, and discover whether his goodness was genetic, or if was it taught, or if it was something else all together. They would discover what it was that made it so this child could summon light.

Thus, was the child named Armand Bast.

Raised mostly by Guillem Bautista (Known as Wellam, thanks to young Armand's inability to pronounce his name) as well as Anton Rosando (Which became Routham, again, thanks to Armand's light Spanish lisp), Armand enjoyed a mostly happy childhood. Guillem was known to be a refined and gentle priest with a glint in his eye and a crook to his smile, a pacifist despite his title of Hunter. He boasted a sharp and combative intellect as well as a stubborn and persistent kindness, and remained at the Sanctuary as the resident teacher of Light Summoning. He was the golden boy of the church, and San Sebastian's presiding Cazadore de Luz while Anton, his partner, was one of the several leading Weapons Masters. Anton, on the other hand, was curt, logical, and dedicated, though very old-fashioned and hard set in his ways. Together, they provided two halves of philosophy regarding the experiment that was their charge, and they raised him strictly within the confines of their challenge. Armand remained in the crypt for most of his life, rarely exposed to the other members of the church, hidden away from those who might otherwise influence the test of purity, and neither was he allowed to interact with the other children who were taken in to study as Cazadores. He was with Guillem and Anton, his whole world, besides the rare visitations of a few superiors, a council of five, who would check in on his progress, observing from the side as Armand trained. His young life consisted of learning to read and write, to sing and memorize hymns and passages, and later printmaking and books, but his studies also included memorizing the shape and weight of tools and weapons as well as how to use them. He was taught herbalism and medicine, anatomy and the identification of illnesses, and soon his abilities showed in healing as well as light. Yet as he grew older, and as he grew more attached to his guardians, Guillem would sneak in books of poetry, romance, adventure into his studies of holy scripture and psalms. Father Bautista was cheeky like that.

However, Guillem was a good teacher, and soon he would discover that his methods were bearing fruit. Armand, although retracted and isolated from society, displayed a remarkable aptitude for kindness and sympathy, with an eagerness to please. He was intuitive and sensitive, passionate, and curious, and there was no sign of his birth having ill effect upon his persona, not with the strict and isolated upbringing Guillem and the Council enacted. However, ever since he was old enough to read, Guillem noticed that young Armand easily developed lingering persistent headaches, would flinch and squint with bleary eyes in the light, and, at the end of the day, collapse, his head reeling and cottony. The boy was weak, sickly, and it prompted discussion. Some theorized he was rejecting the light, that something was wrong, that it was impurity manifesting at last. It couldn't last. Others claimed differently, it was simple, it was poor breeding. The boy's skin was so pale, his eyes so pale, it was a result of his blood. Regardless of the discussion, Guillem set upon finding a solution for the poor boy, knew that he could find a way to help aid the boy's condition, his photophobia. He bequeathed unto him a pair of sunglasses meant to dampen the light, and soon, the headaches began to wane. Armand could continue his studies.

When Armand finally reached the age of a decade, Guillem took it upon himself to teach the boy the shape of magic and faith. He would follow in his footsteps as a Cazadore de Luz, to be a part of the dying art of light-based faith magic, and while he had used his skill thoughtlessly, instinctively, as a child, Guillem endeavored to help train him to use it as a hunter and priest. Fortunately, Armand took to the teaching well, either out of necessity or latent skill, but he kept up with his training, surpassing even Guillem in ability. His proficiency allowed him to summon objects without the use of an anchor like Guillem needed, and while it was flexible and rare, it was not as strong nor as dependable as Guillem's skill. Instead, it sapped and drained him with incredible speed, and Armand could not last more than a couple minutes before collapsing. Training, however, would continue, and Armand would slowly adapt to the ability. At the same time, he was training with Anton, who challenged him in learning not only the weight and shape of every weapon, but how to fight with it. Armand favored the bow, rapier, shield and sword, and Anton encouraged him to learn even more beyond those, exhausting the boy after every lesson. The Cazadores de Luz y Sombra were not easy on the boy, and they lived up to their reputation as being the skilled warriors they proved to be.

Other lessons included that of faith healing and medicine. Mostly led by Guillem, though Anton taught Armand of combat medicine, Armand was brought as Guillem's assistant when he was young to meet and study the ailing and wounded people at the local hospital, where priests of the order would spend their time teaching their students how to heal. Armand, however, was brought on special hours where it would be him and his teachers alone. He learned how to make poultices and salves, how to identify illnesses and wounds, as well as how to use faith-healing. Guillem gave demonstrations, showing Armand how to use the ability to save the innocent, to preserve his enemies or to condemn them, as well as to use it sparingly to help facilitate the healing of others. With Armand at his side, he healed the near death and saved the unsalvageable, conquered plague and pestilence alike, inspiring Armand to follow in his footsteps. However, his training with healing had only just begun before his life changed.

Guillem was called away.

When Armand was twelve, news came from eastern Europe. There was a case that needed Guillem's specific skill, his pacifistic touch and unfortunately, it could not wait. Despite Anton's determination to follow as Guillem's shadow, the two knew that they could not leave young Armand alone, not at the expense of the test. He could not be given to others, he had to have a constant feature, and Guillem was needed elsewhere. So it was Anton who was forced to stay to watch the boy, forced to be his anchor, while the Cazadore de Luz would venture out with a replacement Cazadore de Sombra to protect him as he journeyed to the far reaches of the mountainous east. It would be a quick mission, he promised. He would be back as soon as it was finished. He would send letters. At first, it seemed that the mission was elongated, later they received word that his skill was needed by others in the territory, afflicted by the same plague. His journey lengthened. Eventually, the years passed, and all they received of Guillem was in letters and ink, broken-hearted promises, that he would return, that he would come back, that he just needed to help one more person.

Guillem never returned.

Anton and Armand had only one another, and unfortunately, without Guillem, their relationship began to sour. There was something in Anton, some kind of doubt or festering worry, hidden behind his carefully guarded mien. It had always been there, always remaining just underneath the surface, something to be whispered about with Guillem when Armand wasn't listening, wasn't paying attention, wasn't there. Without the church's golden boy to balance him, Anton began believing more and more of his doubts, more and more of his fears. The boy was a bastard. He had yet to show his true colors. So Anton's lessons grew harder, colder, his words became more callous and sharp, his punishments more and more severe. He kept applying more and more pressure, waiting to see just how Armand would crack, how he would show himself and his true nature. Unfortunately, without Guillem's guidance, Armand's training in faith-healing became more and more arduous, more taxing, as Anton forced Armand to engage in more complicated tests and healing, unknowing of the tax it would place upon the growing boy, thinking that it could help advance his skills if he practiced more. In studying light, Anton prepared Armand to wield his light weapons by training him to withstand heat and pain, to build a tolerance for it, so that he could hold his weapons longer. When it came to curbing natural desires or combating negative thoughts, Anton bestowed a scourge to Armand, encouraging him to use it to beat the sinful ideals from his back, to keep himself pure, to keep himself pious.

Between training, young Armand would also find himself left alone for longer and longer periods of time. As he waited for Anton to return, Armand busied himself with practice, aiming to surpass Guillem's expectations whenever he should return in the hope that one day, he could follow Guillem on his adventures. The days would come and go, nights rolling into day, and neglect would soon become a feeling that Armand was intimately familiar with. He was alone in the crypt, day after day, yet, despite his loneliness, Armand convinced himself that he had it good. He had a father figure with him yet, one who adored him in his own stern and forgiving way, and he was granted his knowledge as his student. Out there, on the road somewhere, he had another father figure who loved him and he was helping others, doing God's work. It was inspiring. At home, in the protected parish of San Sebastian, Armand was allowed to help the poor, through healing of word or healing of sickness, and he was following the long and strenuous path of the Holy Art of Light, surprising even Anton with his ability despite his innate adverseness. Hope would burn in his breast as long as he remembered those blessings. The church and Anton, Guillem, even, would see that he was good, and that he was not the sum of his blood. He had hope yet.

When he was not exercising his skills of magic or studying weapons and armory, Armand earned the opportunity to serve the public by working long hours in the confessionals, absolving the poor and the common of their sins from behind a wooden shield. He took to the task with great enthusiasm, enjoying the opportunity to help others and talk with them as if they were long time friends. His loneliness, being in the solitary care of Anton, was suffocating at times and the confessionals was the one place where he was happily forced to co-mingle with others. Those moments, though, were few and far between for he was mostly sequestered away to hidden wings and dark corridors, sectioned off to the underground tunnels and subsurface rooms for both his testing and his comfort, trapped in the boundary of the crypt. Many times, however, as he grew older yet, Father Rosando would leave Armand for days to the darkness of his underground home, forgotten sometimes, until he peeked from his sequestered area, begging for time in the confessionals box, if but to hear another person's voice, to have a conversation.

In truth, Father Rosando was not only engaged with his own responsibilities and an increasing worry regarding his missing partner, but he was also testing to see if Armand would break underneath the strain. He believed that Guillem was too gentle, too lenient, and too kind. He could not possibly understand the boy's true nature without putting him under pressure and Anton was still suspicious of the boy even yet. He was convinced that no one could be so kind, no one could be so gentle. Such traits were easy to mimic. People were only real when they were about to break. So Armand was locked underneath the earth, transcribing the holy word in the dark until he ran out of supplies or begged for work, begged for more training, even if it involved coals or hot irons, if it involved more draining healing, if it involved confession. It almost broke him, but Armand's willpower was strong. He was desperate to prove his goodness, old enough at last to understand the nature of his test, and the consequences should he fail it. Fortunately, he was left with a journal from Father Bautista, a small and thin leather bound journal filled with handwritten lessons and creeds formed specifically for Armand to follow when he strayed from the path made for him by the man himself. He keeps it close to his heart, tucked into a sewn in pocket underneath his robes. It serves as a way to keep himself company when the silence becomes too much for him to bear and, in a way, continued to inspire him through his lonely panicked days in the dark, to always seek kindness.

But even then, it was not so simple for Armand Bast. Even underneath the strict yoke of Father Rosando's design, there came a wave of doubt and suspicion from the man's past, whispers and worries detailing the boy's eventual descent into madness. There was no way that the bastard boy was without fault. It could not be possible. He knew bastards, he had entangled with one before, he knew how they worked, what machinations they could weave, the manipulation, the lies, the trickery. Without someone to yank on his leash, to steer him right, Armand could falter and become what he feared. Besides, it could very well be possible, or so Anton believed, for Father Guillem to be responsible for the apparent goodness in the boy, and now, with his absence, there was only a matter of time before the bad seed bloomed. Even as Anton's doubts became more frantic, more involved, the rest of the church remained as silent as ever, knowing that they could do nothing to intervene lest they impact the validity of the test. Not only that, but they had listened to the man's theories, wondered if his tests, no matter how wild, could hold some weight of truth. The clergy looked on with curious eyes as Father Rosando applied more and more pressure to the boy, engaging in tests, tricks, and surprises, gaslighting the young priest as he grew older. It was an interesting experiment indeed.

Yet, despite Anton tricking and manipulating him, daring him to show an ounce of his bad blood, Armand countered every turn with smiles and understanding. It began to grate at Father Rosando. He never once raised his voice, never once retaliated with frustration or anger, never once broke the facade and it became maddening. After studying him for so long, Anton was convinced that he could not be as pure as Guillem had claimed him to be, and he became obsessed with digging for Armand's humanity. He entirely believed that being born out of wedlock, being a bastard child, would have some negative effect on Armand. If he slipped but once, he reasoned, that's all that he would need, to prove that he was right. What kind of monster smiled like an angel? He would design tests with nothing but wrong answers, move objects in Armand's crypt and punish him for not knowing where they were or lying to him. He would embrace him in one moment, and train him with hot irons in the other. After leaving him in the shadows for days, Anton would pluck Armand from the dark and drop him into the sunlight, forcing him to work in the garden on cloudless days, or in bright white painted rooms, grinding salves and poultices for hours on end, and so on, trying to push and push and push him until he broke. Yet, Armand would not break. Even as Armand found himself being treated more and more like a prisoner, instead of the son that he used to be, he would not stray from Guillem's teachings.

Until one day, something changed.

After weeks of little to no interaction, Father Rosando came upon an attention starved Armand, lost in the scriptorium in the midst of hand copying old manuscripts. Showing uncharacteristic pity, Father Rosando encouraged Armand to attend to his confessionals box, urging him to let people in after being so thoroughly tested. He was due some form of reward. Armand, desperate for interaction, spared no thought for the suspicious welcome to his favorite place in church. He was only grateful for the opportunity to meet and converse with all those he had missed, the townspeople who he had developed friendships with through the wooden grate and shield that protected his anonymity. He looked forward to catching up with them, to hearing their problems and providing advice and the holy word of the church. He did so with glee, relaxing into the familiar conversations that he had missed, learning the stories of all that had happened in his absence from confessionals. However, there came a voice that he did not recognize, a husky voice on the other side that came at the end of the day, when the church was quiet and empty save for them. His was a kind voice, one that inquired after him for once instead of droning on about himself. Such treatment had long since been denied him since the death of his caretaker and Armand took to the questions with grateful yet guarded honesty. He told him of his loneliness, of his trials, and his hope of being one day accepted and granted reprieve of the constant tests. He told him how he missed Guillem, and how scared he was of faltering underneath the watch of Father Rosando. The other man expressed curiosity beyond his smiles and casual jokes, and Armand chuckled back, growing comfortable. The friendship began to build, over days, weeks, and eventually Armand found himself growing eager and hopeful to hear the voice of that husky man on the other side of his confessional at the end of every day he was allowed up from his basement dungeon. He began to expect him.

One day, Armand did the unthinkable. Quietly, when he was sure the church was empty, the young priest asked for the stranger to join him on his side of the confessional. Heart beating, stomach aflutter like book pages in the wind, Armand opened the door for the mysterious man to join him and closed it behind him, inviting him to press close and sneak a peek beneath his dark sunglasses, to look at the shape of his lips and the angle of his nose, the line of his jaw, and for the first time in his life, Armand received a long and tender kiss, slow and terribly wonderful, one worth the weight of thirty silver. It was with that kiss that the door was torn open by Father Rosando, catching Armand engaging in sin in the chapel of all places, kissing a man of the same gender, breaking confessional, befouling the sacred halls of the church, and representing the same lust that resulted in his creation. Everything that Armand and Guillem had worked for was immediately destroyed and with that, Armand's heart, for he saw the smirk in the nameless man's grin as he wiped the kiss from his lips, and he saw the bag of thirty silver that was handed to him after Armand was pulled from the confessional box and cast onto the floor, head cracking against the marble. He had been tricked.

Anton was cold and calm, wild with validation, satisfied with the knowledge that one could not escape their blood. He was proven right at last. A bastard would forever be a bastard. He had to be punished.

Armand was dragged before the whole of the church by his collar, thrown onto the altar where he had been first found within the church, a tiny squalling newborn, barely a few days old. Anton called the whole of the church to bear witness to the conclusion of the test, to confirm that a bastard was always a bastard, that purity was impossible to achieve. He whipped Armand for his transgressions, for his humanity, for his sins, for lying, pretending to be something that he was not, before the whole of the church, cracking a scourge upon his back, over and over, however, he never got to finish the deed. With a flash of light, with a whispered prayer, Armand disappeared, and the image of Saint Sebastian himself stood before the altar. With eyes bright, he turned upon the congregation and unleashed a hail of arrows, a shattering of light, a burst, blinding the baffled clergy, leaving them confused and disoriented as they screamed, tearing at their eyes, dropping to the floor of the church. There was nothing but darkness. Black. Anton's voice screamed above them all, demanding the compound be searched for his charge, to find him, even as he blindly swiped his arms through the air, tumbling upon the steps, but Armand was gone. He had been kneeling before Father Rosando and the council, moments before being excommunicated, head bowed and arms bent behind his bloodied back. He couldn't have gone far, they reasoned. He had to be close by. He would have bled out before long.

Armand was never found.

After the chaos, the few priests who were left with their sight would discover that they had lost the files detailing the last known whereabouts of Father Bautista, somewhere near the Knochenwalde Forest. They also realized that some of Father Rosando's personal belongings were missing, stolen. Besides that, it appeared that the boy they had raised in the confines of his test had never existed. He was gone.

As for the church, for Father Rosando and the Council, and all the clergy present at that event...All who bore witness to that light never recovered their sight.

Personality

At first look, Armand is a scattered, anxious mess of a priest, but beyond all that is a genuine sweetness and tenderness in the young man that presents itself when he is at last somewhat comfortable in his surroundings. His care and concern for others is just as real for those he knows well and those who are complete strangers. He's prone to smiles and he enjoys being in the garden, or wandering outside, wearing a saturno. He is happiest doing chores for others and helping, doing something with himself instead of relaxing or indulging in personal ventures. Left alone for too long without orders makes him anxious and listless, for without direction, he's known to slip into grief and harmful self-introspection.

Having survived a life of ridiculous expectations, gaslighting, and emotional abuse, Armand comes off as a little odd and sheltered sometimes. He's gullible, though he is slow to trust, and while he wants to believe in the goodness of all, he fights a learned suspicion of others that was born from his treatment at his former church. It makes him attempt all the more to put his faith in others, and when he's betrayed or tricked or misled, he tries to forget that it ever happened, as if to preserve his initial perception of them instead of admit that he was hurt. He tries to see both himself and others as plants in a garden, and faith as the gardener that tends the weeds and helps people grow. With that in mind, he tries his hardest to maintain the status quo, being the best person that he can be, and whenever he slips, he has a tendency to fixate on the mistake and obsess over how to fix it or best apologize. Even when he is assured that the problem has been solved, he will commit mea culpa until it feels rightfully rectified. However, at the same time, he's aware of his past life of abuse and negative thinking and Armand is constantly trying to figure out how to live in a world without it instead of inflict it upon himself. It's an uphill battle, and one that he often fails, but like Sisyphus, he keeps trying to break free from his cycle, even when it feels useless to fight what's been so ingrained into him. He's constantly reassuring himself that he's good by choice. His make does not beget his means or his affect to the world. He's almost obsessed with trying to prove his caretakers wrong. No matter what they think of him, he can always make the "right" decision. Part of him, however, will forever be sick with the doubt instilled in him from his time with Father Routham, and he fears he will never be confident in himself or his goodness again.

Armand, despite his odd and unfortunate upbringing, does not hold any animosity towards his faith, but rather a desperate love and adoration of it. He believes very strongly in the fight for goodness, and will often happily tumble into full on discussions of the subject matter, recount stories and teachings and readings. Getting into a discussion about religion is a dangerous subject with Armand because he will never shut up about his take on it, and how the text provides nothing but love and appreciation of all things in life. He believes so many beautiful things have been created as objects of faith, like art, music, and statues. The beauty of faith transfixes him and he is enamored by hymns and music.

Quirks

Armand has a tendency to fidget when he's nervous, wringing his hands or stammering, tripping over his words and speaking excitedly. He's also known to giggle anxiously in inopportune times when he doesn't know what else to say.

Due to his genetics, Armand lacks pigment in his skin and eyes, making him prone to sunburns and disorientation, as well as headaches, blindness, and general fatigue. In order to live alongside this condition, Armand wears a pair of tinted glasses with shades built into the sides to protect his eyes from the light, and takes precautions with wearing a saturno whenever he's outside, and always wearing long sleeves and long trousers. Armand is hardly ever seen without covering up as much skin as possible and while he claims it's for the paleness of his skin, to protect himself from the sun, he's also particularly protective of his back...

Likes & Dislikes

Likes

Music, Hymns, & Singing
Gardening
Statues
Goldleaf, anything gold, really
Shadows
Hugs
Fresh Bread
Juice
Confessionals
Good Hygiene
Long walks or hikes
Chores
Cloudy Overcast days
Positive Affirmation

Dislikes

Negative Affirmation
Nature/Nurture Argument
Feeling trapped or lost
Anything bitter or sour
Darkness
Thunderstorms
Humidity
Loud or sharp or sudden sounds
Being touched without warning
Raised voices
Being stared at
Wearing anything that isn't long sleeved or long legged
Seeing others in pain or need and willfully not being helped

Physical Traits

Armand Bast is a timid sort, meek and pious and sweet, a wallflower built like Adonis with a partial tonsure that leaves only his bangs and sideburns. However, in his breast he carries a flame of passion and belief in the righteous and the good of the world. With pale skin, befitting of his statuesque figure, Armand glances nervously from behind the dark circles of his sunglasses. He wears his specs out of necessity, thanks to the migraines caused by light sensitivity, an unfortunate genetic setback due to his light grey eyes and other factors of blood. Due to this, he wears them nearly nonstop. It's very rare that he takes them off, only daring to do so in shadow and darkness. His cassock, he wears with pride.

Abilities

Light (Holy Powers): Through the belief in his faith, and the light of goodness in all, Armand is able to collect light and focus it into shape. He's only able to work with the light in his near vicinity, comfortably with a room (which can create an orb or dagger), and uncomfortably within a building (Which can create multiple orbs of light, or a spear). However, using too much light, or using it for too long, increases the pain of his migraine and can sometimes lead to burns.

Healing (Doctor):er faith, Armand can call forth minor miracles to heal non-lethal wounds and burns.

Strengths

Unshakable willpower and faith, Armand believes in the absolute goodness of all, that it is inherent in every living thing.
Also light, and his manipulation thereof is quite advanced for his status. However...

Weaknesses

Light. While it is his holy weapon of choice, it is also his weakness. Armand not only burns easily in the sun, but he is photophobic. The light hue of his eyes renders him blind in well lit rooms or in daylight, and causes him migraines and disorientation.
His past history of abuse makes it so that Armand responds usually with self-defense mechanisms, flinches, and twitches. His anxiety is a great weakness.

Personal Items

Circular Sunglasses - A pair of modified glasses, these round spectacles are made from Guillem's spare pair, yet the glass itself has been tinted into a darker shade.
Scourge - A gift from his guardian, Anton, it is meant to curb his sins and repent for transgressions.
Cassock - A set of robes from San Sebastian, it is adorned with a cape and wrapped about the waist with a sash.
Hooded Cloak & Brooch of Light - A simple black cloak with a hood, stolen from Father Rosando. The brooch of light is a specially crafted emblem for the Cazadores de Luz, given to all those with light abilities. Armand's is the last made by San Sebastian.
Holy Symbol of St. Sebastian - A silver symbol, the length of a hand, this holy symbol is made in the image of St. Sebastian bound and strapped to a tree, a gift from Father Bautista.
Leather Side Satchel - Stolen from Father Rosando, this satchel is made of fine Spanish leather, crafted with many pockets and straps to hold various tools and equipment.
Belt of Leather Pouches - For Herbs, salves, and poultices, this set of leather pouches sit at Armand's waist when he's traveling and was also stolen from Father Rosando.
Basque Ring Rosary - Given to him by Father Bautista, who noticed he fidgeted often with his hands, this rosary ring is made in the typical Basque fashion, and it is one that Armand keeps on a necklace underneath his clothes because he is too nervous to wear it with how often he fidgets. He's scared of losing it, but sometimes, when he's by himself, he takes it out from beneath his clothes to rotate it on his fingers, and count his Hail Marys.
Tome of Light - A study manual from Father Bautista, it is a hand written collection of notes, advice, and other such tips and tricks on the usage of light and faith. It was meant to be published later for the sake of San Sebastian's studies.
Holy Book of Light - A gilded gold Bible with gold leaf illustrations, it is a gift from Father Bautista. It is well used, but very well taken care of, wrapped in a plain protective leather dust jacket.
Rosary of San Sebastian - A gift from Father Bautista and Father Rosando both, Armand's rosary is different than those that are known to be from his parish. His rosary is made of gold leaf layered beads set between larger beads of rutilated quartz, with silver findings and pendants of Saint Sebastian.
Personal Journal - A small journal made of leather and vellum, Armand keeps a small journal where he writes down music and lyrics.
Waterskin - Not actually used for water, but for juice, his favorite drink.
Embroidered Handkerchief - A gift from Father Bautista, this handkerchief is embroidered with golden vines and an image of Saint Sebastian in its center.
Umbrella - After his departure from the Sanctuary, Armand traded for an umbrella after rediscovering his painful sensitivity to sunlight, using the umbrella for those really cloudless days.
Saturno - Stolen from Father Rosando, Armand took the Saturno thinking that it would be enough to protect him from the sun when he ran away, he wears it whenever he's outside.

Character Relationships

Father Guillem (Wellam) Bautista - One of Armand's guardians, he is sweet, maternal, progressive and powerful, as well as Armand's biggest inspiration and influence. He was Armand's primary caregiver when he was not yet in his teens. Unfortunately, a delicate case needing Wellam's expertise pulled him away from home and sent him on a trip that would keep him away from home as he was sent from one case to another. Missing him, Armand wrote Wellam letters throughout the years, corresponding with him through the mail, even when the letters stopped coming back. Armand not only admires him, but sees him as his real father figure, and would go to any lengths and do anything in order to find him again and protect him, to stand by his side and be home.
Father Anton (Routham) Rosando - The other of Armand's guardians, he is curt, focused, and stern, old-fashioned and rigid, as well as Armand's biggest fear. Routham was Armand's primary caregiver through his teens and into his twenties, though he doubted the sincerity of Armand's goodness. Suspicious and driven to prove otherwise, Routham became Armand's abuser, engaging in gaslighting, neglect, manipulation, as well as physical and emotional abuse, until he broke Armand's will and drove him to defend himself. Armand blinded him, and left him screaming on the church floor of San Sebastiano. He haunts his nightmares.
More to come!

Full Name	Armand Bast
Etymology	Armand: French form of Herman, which means "army man". Armand was given his name by the church, who considered him another soldier of God.
Aka	Mandy
Species	Human
Age	27?
Birthday	January 21st, 1903
Gender	Male
Pronouns	He/Him
Sexuality	Repressed tragic gay
Info
Faction	Church
Religion	Catholic
Occupation	Runaway Priest of San Sebastian, supposed to be a Hunter's Healer
Home	Homeless, but hoping to find refuge at the Church of St. John the Suffering
Often Seen	Working the Confessionals where it is dark and comfortable, or on his knees, not praying at the altar, but tending to the garden. Armand spends most of his free time tending to the herbs and foliage. However, if there are wounded nearby, Armand is often first at the scene, eager to salve any hurt.
Guardians	Father Bautista, Father Routham
Physical Appearance
Height	5'6"
Weight	Heavier than he looks, but light enough to carry.
Build	Short, but toned, almost statuesque.
Skintone	Pale
Eye Color	Pale grey, near colorless
Hair Color	Black
Abilities
Languages	Spanish, Basque, French, English, Italian, Latin, (Working very hard on trying to learn German)
Skills	Ten of Swords: Armand has learned ten different weapons that he can summon at will from the gathering of nearby light. Saint Cosmos & Saint Damien: Armand can use his holy light to heal light to moderate wounds, ease illnesses. Saint Sebastian: Armand can summon a rain of arrows to blind and wound enemies.
Weapons	Made of light, Armand can summon these weapons: Longbow Longsword Rapier Spear Halberd Axe Dagger Flail Shield Scourge
Tools	Small clipping shears for gathering herbs or roots Rolls of bandages stuffed into his leather pouches, along with various herbs. A few glass vials and jars of poultices. A mortar and pestle made of stone. Rolls of thick hempen string.
Species Specific
Magic Source	Faith, Light
Priest Class	Knight, Dragoon, Doctor
History
Nationality	French/Spanish
Parents	No one knows for sure, but rumors say he looks quite like a famous and revered French noble known for her soprano
Guardians	Father Bautista, Father Routham
Other
Reference	-
Themesong	-
Playlist	-
Player Information
Player	Etherelle
Preferred RP Method	Written, Mixed, or Drawn! Whatever is best to move the story forward.
List of RPs	-

Streitstadt

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Post by Etherelle on Oct 1, 2018 22:30:11 GMT -8

Post by Etherelle on Oct 1, 2018 22:34:01 GMT -8