Biography

Personality

The Vagrant is marked by a stoic, stern, and serious disposition. He is a creature of few words. It’s rare to see him smile, and his laughter is unheard of. He could be described as dour at the best of times.Those with military experience, particularly under the reign of the Empire, might recognise the origin of his disciplined habits. He tends to weather poor circumstances without complaint and gives the impression of being unmoved by discomfort, unease, or inconvenience.Though he says little, he isn’t uncommunicative. His thoughts and feelings are often conveyed through his actions. He is expressive in his body language. If his face is a stony mask, one can usually look elsewhere to gain an insight into his mood.This video essay communicates his mindset very succinctly and I would say the main character of the film it discusses qualifies as one of his inspirations.

Appearance

He has a more bestial, draconic appearance than the average Au Ra, and this is readily apparent when interacting with him.Kazuki is more heavily armoured than most of his kind. There are two pairs of horns sprouting from his scaled scalp. In addition to the normal patterns, his shoulders and the outer side of his upper arms feature scales, as well as most of his lower mass. Both forearms all the way down to his hands are scaled, and his fingers terminate in gilded claws—as do his toes. He tends to wear higher heeled, open-toed boots that expose clawed feet snugly for this reason.His scales are smooth enough to fit under regular clothing. They're sturdy in most places, though they overlap in a way that doesn't limit his range of motion where they are at their least flexible.His tail is a solid mass of broad muscle. He prefers coats, cloaked garments, and kilts/hakama to accommodate for the anatomical oddities concerning his tail and the surrounding region. Without modification, conventional clothing is a poor fit on him.Loose outfits that fully conceal as much of his plating as possible are his preferred choice when he is in populated regions; high necks, long sleeves, and cloaks. In a more relaxed or isolated environment, he favours eschewing as much clothing as propriety allows.He often wears his mauve hair tied up in a braid, though to bathe and rest he lets it down. He has it cut relatively regularly, but it grows unnaturally quickly and seems to share his scales’ regenerative properties.

(Reference by the character's player)(Needs a tiny bit of updating)(Character uses 🌒︎ in-game)

Stats

(More)

STR
Kazuki commands an unnatural degree of strength for his size and kind. When he applies his mass and momentum, he isn’t able to hold back or pull his punches. His motor control is damaged, and he isn’t able to control the power of his grip. It’s all or nothing. This makes basic tasks such as trying to hold a delicate object like a glass difficult for him, and he is capable of breaking bones with his bare hands.DEX
He can cover ground swiftly due to his stride, and when he’s wielding sufficiently aerodynamic weaponry such as swords, his blows rain down in a veritable flurry. With that said, he is neither quiet nor stealthy. He cannot control the impact of his footfalls. He can’t handle ranged weaponry aside from throwing javelins, and he isn’t a great shot with those, either. Keeping one’s distance is the best way to seize an advantage against him in combat.CON
Thanks to the extensive scale plating covering most of his body, he can take a fair amount of punishment. His tolerance for pain is high.INT
He shouldn’t be as smart as he is, for a brute. He’s cunning and perspicacious, wilier than a coyote. The few words he speaks are eloquent, though he claims to be illiterate. He is often underestimated due to his terse tendencies, but he understands more than he lets on.WIS
Vagrant’s risk assessment and intuition are rather poor, and while his plans and ideas have a high likelihood of success, they might incur negative, unintended consequences during their course, or result in a bitter-tasting victory.CHA
For all his intellect, he has no idea how to apply it to a social situation. The only place he could claim to know how others think is on the battlefield. He doesn’t have a sense of humour, his grasp of irony is stunted, and his empathy is diminished. He somehow manages to be both mistrustful and gullible. He couldn’t talk his way out of a paper bag.

Background

A few pieces of character writing done for Vagrant. Origins details the strokes of his history while the other two concern someone special to him who will probably come up in long-term roleplay eventually.Origins / Return / Found

(tl;dr at the bottom.)In the time that followed the massacre that led to the fall of Dalmasca, an Auri woman was taken prisoner by the Empire’s forces during the course of the clashes between Othard’s denizens and their invaders.During the course of her detainment, amidst relocations that passed the Aan from one facility or outpost to another, she fell pregnant. There are few who would know whether the father was a fellow civilian Aan or a conscript in charge of overseeing her duties.The officers responsible for her never learnt the answer, though the detail proved insignificant. Her condition made her an ideal candidate to be selected for a programme headed by a high-ranking member of the Frumentarius, one that promised citizenship for participation—not that the option to refuse was offered.The details of the operation were kept confidential, though rumours circulated, as they are wont to do, that experiments were being carried out on the unborn—both in vitro as well as in vivo.It wouldn’t have been the first time that an ambitious, audacious mind attempted to emulate the Allagans’ success in mastery over biology. That ancient civilisation was said to have given rise to much of Eorzea’s contemporary racial diversity through some arcane marriage of gene splicing and aetherological manipulation, and more pertinently, bred renowned super-soldiers.What exactly took place and the outcome of the programme is unknown. More than two decades later, finding evidence of what transpired would prove a difficult (though not impossible) task. It isn’t even clear whether the experiment was deemed a success.Moons after her initiation into the programme, an Auri woman gave birth to a child. Her memory of the pregnancy was hazy, and her navel scars suggested the child hadn’t emerged naturally, but he lived and so did she. What was forgotten was perhaps best never recalled.He was different. She noticed that right away, but it didn’t matter. He was hers, a little spark of joy in an otherwise cold and colourless world. But he wasn’t only hers, she soon learnt. He belonged to the Empire. They decided his future, his path, even his name; Novem aan Conatus. He did not inherit her citizenship.She gave him a name of her own in her heart, a name that honoured his ancestors and his origins; a wish in a word. She whispered it to him as she rocked him to sleep each eve, but he had to learn to answer to the harsh, stilted designation assigned to him by the soldiers who routinely intruded to assess his growth and progress.As he grew, those visits became more frequent. Training commenced from a young age; it went without saying that he would become part of the Empire’s machine of war. They were eventually separated when he was enrolled in a military academy.It was there that he received a basic education, and the mixture of students from annexed nations broadened his linguistic skills—as well as his world views. The primary focus of the academy was combat however, which he excelled at.It was fortunate that he did, as he struggled with any delicate work due to a limited ability to control the strength of his grip. Often was it repeated that he was only good for one thing, and he wasn’t even the best at that.He only scraped by at best. His childhood was regime and drills. His peers were unkind and selfish, though he forged the rare, occasional bond with the few who accepted and understood him before he was moved on and away. They never let any group stay together long enough to start talking about how things should be.There was one he developed a stronger attachment to above the others, though. They weren’t separated. The two were often pitted against one another in exercises, and they came to learn that they were both genetically-modified, though Novem’s companion was enduring ongoing treatment and they vastly outmatched him in every regard.They made a vow to each other that they would always stand by one another, watch each other’s backs. They were their respective constants amidst the chaos and change.He was allowed to visit his mother during leave, too. She managed, but she was alone, with too much time to reflect on what she had lost and left behind. War had taken its toll on her, both mentally and physically. They were one another’s solace, but they were allowed to see less of each other with each passing Twelvesmoon.Novem saw much of the Empire, many people and places, and more still when he reached an age where he was deemed ready for deployment. What is there to be said of serving Garlemald though, that hasn’t been said and seen a hundred times before?Perhaps he did things he would later regret, and saw things that frayed at his resilience. He would’ve been subjected to poor treatment, especially so due to his savage appearance—little more than a beastman in the eyes of those who barely considered the ‘civilised’ races Spoken.Not even those who claimed to know him best saw his defection coming. He never said anything, never complained, neither scowled nor snarled at his superiors no matter what he was subjected to. He’d never demonstrated insubordination before. Perhaps that was what made it the perfect deception.One morning, his bunk was vacant, and that was the last that those he had served beside and beneath ever saw of Novem Aan Conatus. The name his mother gave him was left behind along with her, if he ever remembered it, though at least her wish for him was fulfilled.The only hint as to what could have prompted his departure was the alleged desertion of a soldier he was said to have been close to a moon prior to his own, though they had kept their own cards as close to their chest as he did.Where he went from there is for him to know and others to find out, though his present occupation might lend some insight into where he went and what he has been doing since his disappearance.tl;dr: Vagrant was experimented on by Garlean researchers while still developing as an unborn, implicitly leading to unusual physical features and enhanced strength. He grew up within the Empire and was trained as a soldier, knowing nothing of a life outside of Garlemald and its territories. One day he left it all behind without warning.

At the end of all your travels, you are home.Sunlight filtered in through the canopy and dappled the forest lane in the warmth of autumn. A cool breeze whispered against his cheek as the figure at the end of the path lifted their head and turned to him. At first, they were surprised. Then, they smiled, in a strange, sad sort of way."You found me," they conceded. Warmly, but a little sorrowfully, too, like they were sorry the game had to come to an end. They put down the watering can they had been nourishing a small garden with and rose from a stoop. It was an odd sight, to see such gentleness from a giant, surrounded by delicate flowers and ailing crops. The cottage wasn't built for one of their stature.At the horns, they stood even taller than him. They had always been the larger of the two, even though the wanderer himself wasn't much shorter. Yet they seemed—lesser. He realised they were slimmer now, almost to the point of frailty, like a sickly stag.It was forbidden to express emotion, rare enough that he even felt it these suns, but he found himself choking on a tightness in his throat, his eyes stinging. He gritted his teeth, stalking closer."I have."They watched him approach with a serene and peaceful look in their eyes, as though they had already seen this scene play out. They let him come to them.He wanted to embrace that person. More than anything, he just wanted to be held by them again, like when they were children. It had been so long since they had done that, even before the last time he had seen them. He wanted to tell them he'd missed them. When he didn't say that, or anything more, they spoke again."It's good to see you. I'm glad you were able to follow the trail I left." There was a cunning glint in their dark eyes. "I couldn't make it too obvious. You weren't the only one looking for me. They're probably—""How could you leave without telling me?!" he snarled suddenly, baring his teeth at them, his fists clenched. He had surprised himself with the interjection. He thought he had better control over himself than this.They weren't surprised, though. That same smile from before persisted, unshaken, though their eyes softened in apology."I'm sorry for leaving you behind," they told him, and it was so sincerely spoken that it left no room for him to be furious—which only made him ever more so. "But it was because of you that I left."The wanderer was visibly shaken by those words. Before his fury could give way to hurt, they continued, their features softening remorsefully."I saw how well you fit there, in that place. Over time, it made me realise that I didn't. I—""What are you talking about? You were top of the programme. You received every honour, every commendation. You—you were the best," he interrupted, perplexed. They had always been better than him, their standard his aspiration.The figure's smile grew. He couldn't tell whether it was out of appreciation for the praise, fondness, nostalgia, or... if it was something more patronising: Disappointment."I saw that you were happy and content there. I didn't want to spoil that for you. What was right for me may not have been right for you," they explained placidly. "I didn't think you were ready to leave. I wasn't sure if you ever would be.""How—how could I be content with you gone?" he demanded sorely. The bitterness of their lengthy separation started to boil inside of him. They sighed softly, as though they saw where this was all headed."Why don't you come inside, little dragon? We can talk properly over some tea. I'll prepare a meal for us. Yours must have been a long journey."You have no right to call me that anymore. He shook his head, the mauve hair he had left to grow long swaying with the action, and his hand moved to the hilt of his ōdachi. His expression was like stone, cold and firm, though it was another matter for his heart."No. You're coming back, now. With me.""It wouldn't do us any good, even I wanted to." They calmly stared at him. They weren't carrying a weapon. They were dressed only in a linen gown which would afford little protection against a sword's strokes. There was a time when he would have feared them nonetheless, and he doubted he could best them even in their current state—but they weren't going to fight him."We'll explain. They'll understand. There will be consequences, but we will endure, like we always have, and things will go back to the way they were," he insisted."No, they won't," they informed him, tired. "They'll kill me, and then they'll kill you. You aren't here because you were sent. They wouldn't have let you leave. You took matters into your own hands. We've proven that we will desert when we see fit. We're more trouble than they'll deem us to be worth, little dragon."He had never doubted their judgement or intuition before, and this was no time to start. They had never been wrong before, not when it came to pre-empting their masters' actions and intentions. But that meant—his eyes widened."You—you bastard, this was a trick," he hissed. "Neither of us can go back, and you... you planned this. You wanted to tear me away from everything I've ever known. From where I belonged!"That made them flinch for the first time, and they bowed their head, grimacing in regret."No. That was the one thing I never wanted to happen. I knew there was a possibility that you would come looking for me, but that was your decision. You chose to risk your place and purpose to come after me."Because you mean more to me than all of that ever did."That's not—!" True? Fair? It was both. "You left me no choice!""Because you couldn't stay there without me? It wasn't home anymore once I was gone?" They knew him too. That's what had made them a challenging sparring partner.The wanderer's eyes narrowed until his stare could cut. They closed theirs."A part of me is glad you cared enough to come after me, but I can't be happy knowing that your quest has cast you adrift," they told him sadly. He sensed that they knew this was going to happen, and had from the start. Their words felt like sentiments they had held onto for some time as opposed to his ephemeral fury and stinging indignation.It didn't matter. This was what he had come here to do, and he wasn't going to accept that answer. They were right. It wasn't home if they weren't there. And so..."You will return with me. You must."That same expression as before resurfaced, with that same smile. The one that seemed to say there was so much he still didn't know or understand. They rubbed at the scales on their chin thoughtfully for a few breaths."There is a way for you to salvage your position," they began carefully. "Bring them my head. It won't erase your other transgressions, but it will at least prove where your loyalty lies. They will think you were driven to bring me to justice due to our bond."His throat tightened again before he could object. Kill them? After he had come so far and worked so hard to find them? His voice couldn't find his lips. Was that truly the only way he could go home?While he struggled, paralysed by uncertainty, they arrived at a decision. They moved to the middle of the path outside of their tiny cottage.They carefully knelt down, tucking their legs underneath them. It was a difficult and unnatural position for them to be in, because like him, their body was different from other Au Ra, but they didn't show any discomfort. They bowed their head until it was parallel with the dusty track."I wouldn't have minded getting to know more of this land and its people, seeing this sleepy little life out until its natural conclusion. But I got to live freely, if only for a while, and that's all I ever wanted. If it's for you, I'm content for the dream to end here, little dragon."He was glad they couldn't see the anguish on his face as they were, or the sheen that had started to gather in the corners of his eyes. His blade scraped the inside of its saya as he wrenched it free, and he approached the person he had spent Twelvesmoons in search of.His grip on the hilt was so tight, he could feel it starting to warp from the stress his unnatural strength was imposing on it."それでは..." Well, then.They sighed as he took up his position beside them, offering him a few parting syllables in the tongue they shared an understanding of. He knew they were disappointed. They had always wanted better for him. They both knew he wouldn't find peace after this, and that would hurt them more than the killing stroke.The wanderer knew that.He levelled the blade over the nape of his old friend's neck.And there it stayed as the wind rustled leaves, as they were painted in mottled sunlight.A bell could have passed as he lingered in the limbo between his past and their future. He moved at last, raised up his blade in both hands—and drove it squarely into the soil beside his other. They turned their head towards him.Falling to his knees beside them, he pushed them upright, then pulled them against him in an embrace. They were all clattering horns and scraping scales, but he didn't care. He still couldn't say the words he had wanted to say, but he knew he didn't need to.Their arms folded around his back, their hold as firm and comforting as it ever was.Maybe you are ready to come home, little dragon.

Inside, the cottage was somehow even smaller than it had seemed. As he lifted his head to look around, his horns caught on the curtain that covered the doorway, and he made a noise of displeasure. Raising his hand, he tried to disentangle himself, but then the sharpened tips of his fingers pierced the cloth instead. Exasperated, he huffed—until they came to his rescue, chuckling."I'm sorry. It takes some getting used to. I kept it like this so that if the person who lived here before ever returns, everything will be as they left it."He didn't know why they were here, how they came to be here, or how long they had dwelt in this place, but he wasn't the sort to ask pointless questions. Once he was liberated, he settled himself down on the floor in front of their hearth and laid his sheathed blade over his lap.They had no furniture, just a cot that stretched from one end of the cramped dwelling to the other to accommodate their height, shelving for storing herbs, cookware, and their clothing, he supposed, and a worn rug to cushion the cold stone floor. There was no space for anything else."What do you call yourself these suns?" they asked as they started preparing tea. As ever, it was a marvel to watch his fellow giant move and conduct the simplest of tasks with such grace and delicacy. He knew that it hurt them, the restraint, and that made him restless for some reason, but he didn't lift a finger to help. He couldn't—and that hurt, too."I... don't," was all he could manage to say. Their smile was telling as he caught the corner of it over their shoulder. A firestone lit a flame under a weathered old clay kettle, and they sowed a pinch of leaf into two wide, low bowls. There were cups in the cupboard, but it was easier for both of them this way."Is that how it is? I see. I'm not one to judge. I never chose a new name, either. The few forest-dwellers I crossed paths with have taken to referring to me as the 'hermit', and that suits me well enough."He snorted. He had expected that from them. Their old names weren't truly names. They were degrading numerics. He turned to look away, wondering what it might mean, that neither of them could easily adopt an identity of their own.Amongst those enrolled in the programme they had been part of while growing up, he remembered there had been girl-children. He didn't think he was ever one of them, but he couldn't be sure. Even if he had been, none of them passed adolescence with any lingering semblance of the markers of femininity, and the researchers never used gendered language for them.As he grew, he had asserted himself as male just to stop them referring to him as 'it', and because his mother seemed to think he was her son. He didn't know if he felt like a man, but he knew he didn't feel like some thing that was less than a person.He knew that Septem, the name given to them, had misliked their designation as well, but they never insisted to be called anything else. When he had a better grasp of language, he found a way to steer around the subject without reducing their personhood. Perhaps that was all either of them needed."Gridania, hm." His laconic observation was issued as he spread himself out to get comfortable. Sitting down wasn't easy for either of them, even if he then took up almost all of the floor space and his host had to step over his legs to work.The forested region of Eorzea was one of the few places the empire never managed to make significant inroads. It was the first place he had looked, but he hadn't managed to find them back then. They were growing herbs and wild onion in the garden, and he had crossed a stream to get there, so he supposed they were self-sufficient and there was anyone to tell of their existence.They must have been known to at least a few if they had earned a nickname, but he couldn't figure out why the locals would have kept quiet for their sake."I like the peace and quiet," they admitted, bowing their head to peer out of a window so dusty it was unlikely to have ever been cleaned. They looked so different now. Their linen gown hung off a withering frame. Their scales almost looked too big for them, too hard and coarse, for the serene countenance they threatened to overtake. Had they grown more of those since he last saw them?He felt his chest ache.The two spent a while in silence, waiting for the kettle to boil, until he spoke up with a question that had been steaming in his mind since the first instant he had spotted them."Don't you fight anymore?" he asked bluntly. They turned to study him, sensing several other questions bundled up into four small words: The things he was afraid to ask. Why do you look so frail? What have you been doing all this time? What is important to you now?"No. That wasn't what I had wanted to do with my life if the choice was ever given to me, and it isn't how I want to spend what remains of it now that the decision is mine."He felt himself bristle. They were good at fighting. The best. They had been as a living weapon. He had faced greater warriors than himself, more skilled, swifter, with more experience—yet he had never met anyone who had surpassed them. Was it true that even back then, they had never wanted any of it?"I could train every waking moment, and I would never be as strong as you. You would throw that power away?" he demanded. He heard the bitterness rise anew as a snarl in his voice, but he kept his cool, this time. Even if they didn't want to follow orders anymore, they were squandering their might. There were others they could help if they harboured altruistic ideals. He didn't know them to be a coward, and he didn't understand pacifism."As strong as I was," they corrected him gently. He gritted his teeth as they confirmed that they were weaker now. He wasn't sure they could still best him after all, anymore. It was pitiful."You're letting yourself waste away." Why? Was it so that if the empire ever found them, they would be worthless? That didn't make any sense. It wouldn't work. They could force them to eat, drive alchemy into their veins, and have them train from dawn until the advent of dusk."It's more that I can't prevent it from happening," they told him, interrupting his thoughts. The kettle's insistent whistling filled the air, and they turned to take it off the heat. With their back to him, they poured out two bowls of tea.He realised, as numbness spread through his chest, that it wasn't the first time they had spoken of what life was left to them, nor had they hesitated at the prospect of execution. No, that... It couldn't be the case. Not them. They were the epitome of all that it meant to be alive—the strength and will to make the greatest changes."Exerting myself worsens my condition at a swifter rate," they explained. "I knew before, actually.""Before?"They turned towards him, a steaming bowl held out. Their expression was tranquil, accepting, yet filled with the same melancholy remorse as when he had snapped at them out on the path outside. One of his hands rose. He had to coax his fist to unclench with considerable effort for the beverage to be placed into his waiting palm."I heard them discussing it one sun when they thought I was sedated. My performance was already starting to deteriorate, and they were discussing what to do with me. It was another component to why I left.""You didn't tell me," he lamented sourly. This made their departure feel even worse, somehow. He didn't know what he would have done, but he would rather have known than not. They recognised their fault in that and bowed their head repentantly. Sinking down to the ground beside him, they cradled their tea close and said nothing. They must have struggled to come to terms with it."I can find them. I will go to them. They'll make this right.""That isn't likely," the hermit said, shaking their head. "Even if you could convince them. They had already tried upping my dosages and increasing the intensity of my regime, amongst other methods. They weren't invested in my welfare, of course, but I was a valuable asset, and it was in their interest to extend the span of time I could be of use to them. Even so, it was decided nothing could be done."So, they left. To avoid exacerbating their condition and hastening the atrophy of their body, they came here, where they could enjoy their final days in peace.Suppressing the urge the crush the bowl to dust in his hands almost overwhelmed him. He could see each beat of his heart pounding in the corners of his vision. Fury welled up within him, and a growl simmered in his throat."Is this what I have to look forward to?" he asked through married teeth. A selfish, but inevitable thought. They were cut from the same cloth though they shared no relatives."I don't know. They mentioned that none who came after me showed the same signs of degradation."Nothing else was said by either of them for some time after that. They sipped from their tea, and he stared at his own. In his mind, the place they occupied was that of a personified ideal. He might have been able to stomach the realisation they were fallible or imperfect, but... mortal, and fading fast?"You can stay here if you want. There isn't much room, but we can figure something out.""You're alright with this?" he asked, despondent."Of course. What's mine is yours. I meant it, you know. It is good seeing a friendly, familiar face again.""Dying.""Oh." They drained the last of their tea. "Is anyone ever alright with it? Even for the willing, it's usually only the lesser of two evils. I was feeling all kinds of things at first. I was angry, upset. I felt robbed. Then I despaired, and later, nothing. In the end, I decided to make the most out of it."I could have hunted for a solution, but I don't even know if there is one, and the strain it would place on my body to go on a long journey like that would only shorten what time I have left.""I'll look," he announced without a moment's delay. Of course he would. He hadn't come this far to accept that they were to fade away before his eyes. He was surprised to hear them laugh in response, and he angled a slight glare in their direction."Sorry. I thought you'd say that. It's kind of you," they told him, and they were quiet for a moment. "But if you want to do something for me, all I'd ask is that you visit from time to time."He knew what that meant: They didn't want to die alone. Although they had been prepared to and expected to, they wouldn't have left a trail for him to follow if they didn't want to be found. They wouldn't say as much, and they wouldn't ask him to stay by their side, either—but they wanted him to.It would be the right thing to do, to honour that wish. It wasn't as though there was much chance of him finding a cure. This wasn't a disease. It was an unforeseen side effect of their manufacturing. It would be a waste of precious time.And what else would he do? He couldn't go back. His only desire until then had been finding them. Now he had, what else was there for him? What other purpose? Yet..."I can't watch you die."They read his features for a while, then nodded sombrely as they registered his words and their meaning."I understand. It must be hard enough, seeing me as I am."With a sigh, he shook his head. It didn't bother him, how they looked now. Not the way they thought, anyway. He wasn't disgusted by weak creatures, he just didn't want to be one of them himself. If they had never wanted to be a soldier, then maybe their former appearance had never suited them. He just wanted to see their eyes free of pain. He would be content with that."I will stay here. But I will look for some way to extend your life, too. I can't be a passive witness to your death."They pondered the compromise for a moment, smiling genuinely. He had noticed it didn't take them long to come to a conclusion about anything anymore."Alright," they agreed.He knew they would rather he didn't, but they would take what they could get. The two of them didn't exactly owe each other anything. They weren't lovers. He wouldn't even have called them friends. There was an awkward kinship between them, though that was the extent of it."But before we discuss all that, finish your tea and tell me of your adventures."Bringing his bowl to his lips, he tasted the tepid liquid for the first time and sighed. It was bitter and left a bad taste in his mouth, but it warmed him through, and he resolved to drink it all."Where to start."

Hooks

Present Circumstances

He has recently become the guardian of a person he has come to care for after stealing her away from all she knows for selfish reasons. He relies heavily on her to make up for his deficits, and has a vested interested in keeping her close for other reasons, so they are seldom apart, but he may be found alone running errands or taking on work at times.His business with her can feasibly bring him anywhere between the continents.

The Hunted

There are a few reasons why your character might care to chase after a certain vagrant.Deserter
The Empire doesn’t expend unnecessary effort tracking down deserters, especially now that it has fallen, but perhaps your character has a vested interest in doing so, or they’re being paid to do the legwork on an agent of Garlemald’s behalf. Though he has cast aside his Garlean designation, his distinctive horns are hard to hide.Experiment
More pertinently, he isn’t just a deserter. He is a valuable piece of research that slipped out of the Empire’s grasp before its usefulness could be fully realised; a weapon. It’s possible that your character is a researcher or has ties to those who would want to see him returned to his rightful owners.

Downtime

Everyone needs a little of it. The intensity never dissipates, but he’s not always working.Food
Kazuki is a bottomless pit. Hunger is one of his major weaknesses and he’ll do most anything to secure his next meal. Maybe you heard his stomach growling, or you want what he’s having—and you’re willing to risk stealing it off his plate.The Struggle
He could tear through the steel sheeting of an airship’s hull, bend iron, and break chain with his bare hands, but that kind of strength comes at a price.He has trouble with fine control over his grasp. He has two modes: Crush and release. The slightest squeeze becomes a death grip, and he’s prone to dropping things. Eating is difficult. Dressing is difficult. He can’t write. He can only handle weapons strong enough not to snap in his hand.Anything you ordinarily use your grip or have to restrain your strength for is difficult for him to master, and although he tries to hide it as best he can, it’ll come up eventually. Perhaps you intend to mock him for it. Or help.If you have any other ideas, I’d love to hear them. We’re not limited by what is listed here.