Aeolian

Regalia

<Snipped quote by Aeolian>

I considered making the same request, but there is something kinda powerful about some dude metamorphing into a radiant goddess...

@Tlaloc

I Couldn't agree more! I was hoping we would have characters who subvert the expectation. Like yes, a big burly man can absolutely transform into a hot bodied Goddess. It's cool lol

Regalia

@Sylvan

I really like this nation and character concept a lot. What was your thoughts process around wanting to make Ramuh female? Was there a conceptual or thematic choice for that change?

Regalia

@Tlaloc

I like this angle too of someone extremely privileged being able to exist in a society that otherwise would have treated them much differently if not for this privilege they can wield. I think from this narrative perspective, it opens up developmental moments where the character may have to, perhaps, be humbled in some way. I don't know much about your character, but if he gets free passes in a totalitarian theocratic society, he might have a bloated sense of self and delusions of grandeur. Only, he is the literal embodiment of an actual Dominant, and one of the most revered in the world, which might play even more into this ego, I'm assuming, he may or may not possess. Eitherway, fascinating stuff to think about.

Regalia

<Snipped quote by Aeolian>

We're thinking that it's a totalitarian theocracy, and wouldn't approve of any nation who didn't recognise Ultima as a figure of high reverence. Think of it, a little bit, like crusaders of old, wherein Ultima-worshipping templars maintain her balance through any means necessary, keeping her light burning by extinguishing what they percieve as darkness.... Not sure they'd wage holy war for no good reason, but if anyone had a nation that they think might have a testy history, could be interesting?

@Tlaloc

A totalitarian theocracy—very interesting. I can already think of some Real-Life parallels to that. LOL. Is your Regalia male or female? Would that have some influence over how they are perceived in Cetra? I'm just thinking about real life and how much gender plays a role in setting the "rules" that each gender is supposed to follow. Stringent codes of conduct and what have you. I expect Cetra might be the same way, for better or worse.

Regalia

Fleshing out Cetra, and it's shaping up to be a rather separatist nation. Could be interesting to dabble a little in some geopolitics... maybe a war in the past?

@Tlaloc

That's a very interesting concept. With what nation were you thinking they were in conflict with in the past?

Regalia

Cécile Augustus Simon-Heartfilia, The Hopekeeper

^{_{C é c i l e ' s S o u n d t r a c k}}

‎

★

_{P R E S E N C E}

---

Cécile moves like a mist over water—demure, graceful, ephemeral, a being caught between the world of the living and something far deeper, perhaps eternal. There is a quiet, understated grace about him, an aura that suggests still waters running deep beneath a surface of calm indifference. Cécile's silence is not the silence of apathy, quite the contrary, but of someone who listens to the quiet hum of existence, as if in communion with things most people overlook. When he speaks, his words come slowly, deliberately, as though each thought has been sifted through an ancient sieve of wisdom. His voice—gentle, hushed—makes others lean in, drawn by a magnetism they can't quite place, as if in Cécile's presence, the air itself feels more delicate.

Those around Cécile are inexplicably soothed or unnerved, depending on the weight of their own souls. Cécile doesn’t judge, but his steady gaze and the aura of solemnity he carries has a way of making people confront the truths they’ve hidden away. People often find themselves revealing more than they intended, offering up pieces of their soul like driftwood to the shore, their own edges softening, their anxieties dissolving in the gentle pull of Cécile's presence. It's easy to forget, in those moments, the boundaries that typically define the self.

Decisions are made with careful precision, not from a place of hesitation but from an innate understanding of the consequences each choice may bring. Cécile weighs his actions as one would weigh the stars, considering not only the immediate but the everlasting. The reality is that Cécile is quite afraid of the unknown. Having been tucked away in a small pocket of the universe for so long, relative isolation has made him wary of those from the mainland. Therefore, any action he takes is done with great sensitivity to ensure the least harmful outcome. Though Cécile is not entirely beholden to his natural naivete, there is so much about the world that he has yet to experience, so his confidence in traversing these new, foreign lands leaves much to be desired.

He does not give orders or commands; instead, he suggests, and others may feel compelled to follow as though it were their own decision. Communication, for him, is an art of listening as much as it is of speaking. And yet, despite the mystery that surrounds him, there is an undeniable gentleness. His empathy is not worn on the surface, but it radiates from him like the soft glow of a distant star—subtle, but ever-present.

There is a soft melancholy to Cécile's demeanor, a wistfulness that lingers in his gaze. It is the melancholia of someone who has touched the edges of death time and time again, tasted solitude like a vintage wine, and found in it a sort of beauty, and pain. He is never hurried, never impatient; time itself seems to slow in his presence, as if reality bends to match his rhythm. Others may struggle to define him—some see Cécile as a cold, others as profoundly kind—but all agree there is something ethereal about him, a quality that places him just beyond the reach of the mundane world.

As the Regalia of Anima, Cécile is an enigmatic but relatively well-known figure among the people of Eshea and, to an extent, in the immediate surrounding nations. His pure image and sacred role as a Funérailles has served him well in some respects—in furthering his identity as someone who is beloved and cherished with a sort of reverence one might bestow their innocent, first love. Cécile guides his followers and those abroad through their mournful hours and tempers their midnight terrors with pleasant, sweet dreams. It is only natural, then, that his innate temperance and virginhood is a virtue no one can deny romanticizing.

_{C H R O N I C L E}

---

Cécile’s story begins in the cradle of luxury, where golden light bathed his early years and marble halls whispered promises of power and privilege. The youngest of three, he was the delicate thread in the grand tapestry of his family’s legacy, his father Raynaldus, an eccentric politician of boundless ambition, and his mother, Hippolyta, a regal beauty with the blood of Dalmascan royalty running through her veins. Though he was born in the western country of Nibelheim, it would be in Eshea, his father’s homeland, that his life would be truly shaped.

"There is nothing more honorable in this world than a proper burial."

They moved back to Eshea when he was only four, settling in the gleaming city of Montá—the Citadel—a renowned city of old-world charm, encased in a fortress of metal, keeping its timeless beauty protected from the world outside. This was a place where the elite thrived and were shielded from the woes of the less fortunate. Raised under the Citadel’s silver skies, it was here where Cécile's childhood began (soft and sheltered)—his days filled with the luxury only the Montágasque could understand. His world was one of silks and gemstones, the quiet hum of politics brushing against the air, and the certainty that his future would be paved with the same power his father wielded so easily.

But Montá was a city of strange traditions, and fate or something far older, as it often does, had other plans for the noblesse, aristocratic youth. At the age of ten, the Council of the Citadel chose him for a role unlike any other—a Funérailles, or Hopekeeper—a role both revered and immeasurably isolating. They sent him away, far from the gleaming walls of Montá, to a small house adrift on the ocean’s endless horizon. His task was solemn and queer—he was to officiate the seaside burials of those who died at sea, a child shepherding souls into the depths. This custom of funeral rites was called Mer de rêves (The Sea of Dreams).

"Freed...from the chaos..."

His only companions were mourners who came to bid their final goodbyes, and the fragile höpes, delicate birds whose brief lives measured the time the friends and family of the departed should grieve/mourn. When a höpe died, so too did the mourning period. The silence of the sea was his constant companion, vast and unbroken, except for the occasional supplier from distant Tenshi, who brought sustenance and supplies.

"I never chose to be a Funérailles, a Hopekeeper, but I will continue to do what I must with dignity and respect, if only for those who can no longer do so for themselves. Perhaps, that is the only reason why I am here."

Isolation bore heavily on Cécile's spirit. The weight of solitude and the ever-present specter of death chipped away at the carefree child he once had been. Yet in his quiet despair, the Dominant of Dreams, Anima, took pity and reached out to him, her blessing falling over him like stardust on still waters. Her magic allowed Cécile to escape, if only in spirit. Through astral butterflies, delicate creatures spun from his very essence, he could soar beyond his floating home, seeing the world through their eyes. His butterflies danced over cities and mountains, entering the dreams of strangers and wandering through lives that were not his own. It was through these dreams that Cécile experienced the world he had been torn from—the bustling streets of far-off lands, the laughter of children, and the simple joy, sorrow, and love of human connection, though fleeting, as none of it truly belonged to him.

The years passed, and Cécile, now marked by Anima’s magic, became a Regalia—touched by her gracious divinity. This honor earned him a reprieve from his duties, a rare pardon from the Citadel council. He was granted passage to the Festival of Lights, where other Regalia would gather, each tethered to the divine in their own way, each worshipped by those who sought their favor. As Cécile stepped away from his floating prison for the first time in a decade, the world beyond the horizon shimmered with possibilities unknown. The Festival awaited, but so too did the changes that would shape his life in ways he could never have anticipated.

_{H O M E}

---

Eshea is a country of quiet grandeur, where the soft patter of rain on cobblestone streets is as constant as the gentle hum of political intrigue. Its capital, Océanteau, perched like a jewel upon the surface of a vast, tranquil lake, resembles a Venetian dream, with grand buildings rising from the water, their spires reflected in the endless ripples below. The lake’s narrow canals wind like veins through the city, connecting plazas adorned with marble statues and ancient cathedrals where whispers of worship rise like mist to the heavens. From this central heart, the River Léon weaves its way through the countryside, threading together the smaller cities (resembling the Cotswolds) that dot Eshea’s landscape like forgotten pearls, each distinct yet united by the lifeblood of their common river. It is a rainy land, where the skies seem perpetually veiled in soft gray clouds, and the air is always cool with the promise of a downpour. At the very least, Eshea does experience all four seasons, with Spring and Fall being the most prominent and rainy.

The people of Eshea, much like its landscape, are varied and diverse. Their language, the French-esque Eshiyaos, is flowing and melodic, resembling that of North Accadia, though spoken with subtle differences in inflection and dialect that create a unique harmony all their own. In Montá and Océanteau, the educated elite switch effortlessly between this native tongue, the Tenshi language, and the English language that dominates the entire world. Venture beyond these famed cities, and English is fleeting and unreliable. However, Eshea’s coastal cities are rich with the cultural remnants and dialects of Tenshi immigrants. Eshean society is most devout to Anima and Ultima. Those more in tune with their Tenshi culture and heritage, tend to be less enthralled by these two figures.

Eshea’s social order, however, remains rigidly defined. It is a land where prestige and wealth reign supreme, where influence is as valuable as gold. To truly belong here is not a matter of residence, but of power—whether by lineage, fortune, or political savvy. Power is traded like secrets, and survival means mastering the art of staying relevant in the eyes of those who hold the keys.

Though Cécile was born in country of Nibelheim, his earliest memories belong to Montá—the city encased in metal and privilege, known to many simply as The Citadel. Nestled in the foothills of the towering Montague Mountains, hence the city name, Montá stands as a testament to wealth and exclusivity. Its imposing metallic wall, gleaming like a fortress from ages past, encircles the city, guarding its treasures and residents from the outside world. Within those walls lay a contradiction—a city steeped in old-world beauty, where the streets are lined with elegant art nouveau façades and grand Edwardian mansions, yet ruled by cutting-edge technology and humanoid AI bots, which cater to the elites' every need and those who can afford to visit.

Despite the constant hum of automation, Montá feels more like a preserved relic of a bygone era, its cobblestone streets winding through low- and mid-rise buildings that echo an age of grandeur. The absence of towering skyscrapers lends the city a distinct intimacy, where ornate ironwork balconies and stained glass windows adorn nearly every structure. The influence of Tenshi culture is palpable here, too—rich silks, flowing robes, and delicately embroidered patterns mingle with the traditional Montágasque attire, a reminder of the wealthy Tenshi immigrants who had once made Montá their home. This diversity of culture, however, does not extend to a diversity of class. Montá’s ethos revolves around lineage, prestige, money, and the endless pursuit of political power. To become a Montágasque citizen requires more than just residency; it demands birthright, immense wealth, or the favor of the city's ruling council—a group that upholds the city’s oldest, most exclusionary traditions.

Amidst this affluence, Montá’s charm lay not only in its architectural splendor but also in its natural beauty. The city is known for its rolling hills, softened by the frequent rain that makes the landscape lush and vibrant. Roses—delicate, fragrant, and ever-present—cling to the walls and blossom in every garden, painting the city with their soft, transient beauty. The seasons in Montá unfold like a tapestry: spring brings life to the roses, summer glistens with rain, autumn wraps the hills in gold, and winter veils the city in mist. Yet through every season, the ever-present cloud of tradition lingers—a reminder that this is not a city for the ordinary, but a world where the wealthy thrive and those outside its walls remain forgotten. Cécile, once ensconced in this opulent life, grew under the watchful gaze of this insular society, learning the unspoken rules of its labyrinthine politics and old customs, until fate pulled him away from it all.

_{T R I V I A}

---

Likes:

• Reading books
• Brewing tea
• Singing (Cécile has a really pretty singing voice and can often be found humming to himself)
• Chocolate, but anything sweet really
• Painting
• Caring for the höpes
• Dream journaling
• Stargazing
• Writing poetry
• Transcribing old sheet music
• Swimming

Dislikes:

• People touching him without consent, even friendly physical gestures he instinctively recoils from
• Technology, he's terrible at using it
• People with bad intentions
• Slimy things

Other:

• As a Funérailles (Hopekeeper is the more modern term people use), he can be identified by the "Mark of the Funerailles", which is a pair of symbols engraved in the palms of his hands by the previous Hopekeeper. He usually hides these marks by wearing a pair of violet gloves, which coordinate with his silk slip
• Usually has a small book on his person at all times
• Can usually be found carrying a parasol
• He is the ultimate waifu who can cook really well; he had to learn how to cook for himself since the age of 10
• He is a Montágasque citizen who also has citizenship in Nibelheim due to birth and Dalmasca due to maternal ancestry
• He speaks Montágasque, a dialect of the core Eshean language (the French-esque Eshiyaos), but he also speaks English with a posh/received pronunciation-style British accent, which is the primary accent in Montá.

_{S O C I A L}

---

_Cassiel
^{(Estranged Friends)}

Cécile and Cassiel met by chance during a star-gazing festival on Cécile's last day of freedom before departing to become a Hopekeeper, a time when both were overwhelmed by their respective destinies. Cécile, afraid of a future he did not choose, found reassurance in Cassiel's company. They maintained a long-distance friendship for a few years, but Cassiel’s growing cynicism and detachment caused a rift, leaving Cécile hurt by his former friend's callousness. Once kindred spirits in the tender days of youth, they now drift like strangers in the twilight of adulthood.

_Nyx
^{(Distant Cousins)}

Cécile and Nyx share an eternal bond, bound by blood through a shared grandfather, a man whose infidelities shaped two families living worlds apart. In early childhood, Cécile’s days were spent with his cousin Nia and the Stryxs, but when the Heartfilias returned to Eshea when he was only four, their connection faded, leaving only faint memories of a fleeting time together. Now, both stand as Regalia, wielding immense power of the Dominants. How will the paths of these cousins converge again? Only time will tell.

Regalia

I hate double posting, but I'll post this anyways since I'm done and it's ready for review. Cheers! @Mirandae

Neon Diantha, The Citadel's First Love

^{_{N e o n ' s S o u n d t r a c k}}

‎

★

_{P R E S E N C E}

---

Neon moves like a mist over water—demure, graceful, ephemeral, a being caught between the world of the living and something far deeper, perhaps eternal. There is a quiet, understated grace about him, an aura that suggests still waters running deep beneath a surface of calm indifference. Neon’s silence is not the silence of apathy, quite the contrary, but of someone who listens to the quiet hum of existence, as if in communion with things most people overlook. When he speaks, his words come slowly, deliberately, as though each thought has been sifted through an ancient sieve of wisdom. His voice—gentle, hushed—makes others lean in, drawn by a magnetism they can't quite place, as if in Neon's presence, the air itself feels more delicate.

Those around Neon are inexplicably soothed or unnerved, depending on the weight of their own souls. Neon doesn’t judge, but his steady gaze and the aura of solemnity he carries has a way of making people confront the truths they’ve hidden away. People often find themselves revealing more than they intended, offering up pieces of their soul like driftwood to the shore, their own edges softening, their anxieties dissolving in the gentle pull of Neon’s presence. It's easy to forget, in those moments, the boundaries that typically define the self.

Decisions are made with careful precision, not from a place of hesitation but from an innate understanding of the consequences each choice may bring. Neon weighs his actions as one would weigh the stars, considering not only the immediate but the everlasting. There is an unshakable confidence in this, an aura of inevitability. He needs no validation, no affirmation. Neon simply knows. It’s not arrogance—it’s as if the answers arrive in the same way the stars appear in the night sky, one by one, unfolding in his mind until the path ahead is clear.

He does not give orders or commands; instead, he suggests, and others may feel compelled to follow as though it were their own decision. Communication, for him, is an art of listening as much as it is of speaking. And yet, despite the mystery that surrounds him, there is an undeniable gentleness. His empathy is not worn on the surface, but it radiates from him like the soft glow of a distant star—subtle, but ever-present.

There is a soft melancholy to Neon’s demeanor, but not one rooted in sadness. It is the melancholia of someone who has touched the edges of death time and time again, tasted solitude like a vintage wine, and found in it a sort of beauty. He is never hurried, never impatient; time itself seems to slow in his presence, as if reality bends to match his rhythm. Others may struggle to define him—some see Neon as cold, others as profoundly kind—but all agree there is something ethereal about him, a quality that places him just beyond the reach of the mundane world.

As the Regalia of Anima, Neon is an enigmatic but relatively well-known figure among the people of Eshea and, to an extent, in the immediate surrounding nations. His pure image and sacred role as a Funérailles has served him well in some respects—in furthering his identity as someone who is beloved and cherished with a sort of reverence one might bestow their innocent, first love. Neon guides his followers and those abroad through their mournful hours and tempers their midnight terrors with pleasant, sweet dreams. It is only natural, then, that his innate temperance is a virtue no one can deny romanticizing.

_{C H R O N I C L E}

---

Neon’s story begins in the cradle of luxury, where golden light bathed his early years and marble halls whispered promises of power and privilege. The youngest of five, he was the delicate thread in the grand tapestry of his family’s legacy, his father Raynaldus, an eccentric politician of boundless ambition, and his mother, Hippolyta, a regal beauty with the blood of Dalmascan royalty running through her veins. Though he was born in the western country of Nibelheim, it would be in Eshea, his father’s homeland, that his life would be truly shaped.

"There is nothing more honorable in this world than a proper burial."

They moved back to Eshea when he was only two, settling in the gleaming city of Montá—the Citadel—a renowned city of old-world charm, encased in a fortress of metal, keeping its timeless beauty protected from the world outside. This was a place where the elite thrived and were shielded from the woes of the less fortunate. Raised under the Citadel’s silver skies, it was here where Neon’s childhood began (soft and sheltered)—his days filled with the luxury only the Montágasque could understand. His world was one of silks and gemstones, the quiet hum of politics brushing against the air, and the certainty that his future would be paved with the same power his father wielded so easily.

But Montá was a city of strange traditions, and fate or something far older, as it often does, had other plans for the noblesse, aristocratic youth. At the age of ten, the Council of the Citadel chose him for a role unlike any other—a Funérailles, or Hopekeeper—a role both revered and immeasurably isolating. They sent him away, far from the gleaming walls of Montá, to a small house adrift on the ocean’s endless horizon. His task was solemn and queer—he was to officiate the seaside burials of those who died at sea, a child shepherding souls into the depths. This custom of funeral rites was called Mer de rêves (The Sea of Dreams).

"Freed...from the chaos..."

His only companions were mourners who came to bid their final goodbyes, and the fragile höpes, delicate birds whose brief lives measured the time the friends and family of the departed should grieve/mourn. When a höpe died, so too did the mourning period. The silence of the sea was his constant companion, vast and unbroken, except for the occasional supplier from distant Tenshi, who brought sustenance and supplies.

"I never chose to be a Funérailles, a Hopekeeper, but I will continue to do what I must with dignity and respect, if only for those who can no longer do so for themselves. Perhaps, that is the only reason why I am here."

Isolation bore heavily on Neon’s spirit. The weight of solitude and the ever-present specter of death chipped away at the carefree child he once had been. Yet in his quiet despair, the Dominant of Dreams, Anima, took pity and reached out to him, her blessing falling over him like stardust on still waters. Her magic allowed Neon to escape, if only in spirit. Through astral butterflies, delicate creatures spun from his very essence, he could soar beyond his floating home, seeing the world through their eyes. His butterflies danced over cities and mountains, entering the dreams of strangers and wandering through lives that were not his own. It was through these dreams that Neon experienced the world he had been torn from—the bustling streets of far-off lands, the laughter of children, and the simple joy, sorrow, and love of human connection, though fleeting, as none of it truly belonged to him.

The years passed, and Neon, now marked by Anima’s magic, became a Regalia—touched by her gracious divinity. This honor earned him a reprieve from his duties, a rare pardon from the Citadel council. He was granted passage to the Festival of Lights, where other Regalia would gather, each tethered to the divine in their own way, each worshipped by those who sought their favor. As Neon stepped away from his floating prison for the first time in a decade, the world beyond the horizon shimmered with possibilities unknown. The Festival awaited, but so too did the changes that would shape his life in ways he could never have anticipated.

_{H O M E}

---

Technically Neon was born in country of Nibelheim, but his earliest memories belong to Montá—the city encased in metal and privilege, known to many simply as The Citadel. Nestled in the foothills of the towering Leannan Mountains (in the rainy country of Eshea), Montá stands as a testament to wealth and exclusivity. Its imposing metallic wall, gleaming like a fortress from ages past, encircles the city, guarding its treasures and residents from the outside world. Within those walls lay a contradiction—a city steeped in old-world beauty, where the streets are lined with elegant art nouveau façades and grand Edwardian mansions, yet ruled by cutting-edge technology and humanoid AI bots, which cater to the elites' every need and those who can afford to visit.

Despite the constant hum of automation, Montá feels more like a preserved relic of a bygone era, its cobblestone streets winding through low- and mid-rise buildings that echo an age of grandeur. The absence of towering skyscrapers lends the city a distinct intimacy, where ornate ironwork balconies and stained glass windows adorn nearly every structure. The influence of Tenshi culture is palpable here, too—rich silks, flowing robes, and delicately embroidered patterns mingle with the traditional Montágasque attire, a reminder of the wealthy Tenshi immigrants who had once made Montá their home. This diversity of culture, however, does not extend to a diversity of class. Montá’s ethos revolves around lineage, prestige, money, and the endless pursuit of political power. To become a Montágasque citizen requires more than just residency; it demands birthright, immense wealth, or the favor of the city's ruling council—a group that upholds the city’s oldest, most exclusionary traditions.

Amidst this affluence, Montá’s charm lay not only in its architectural splendor but also in its natural beauty. The city is known for its rolling hills, softened by the frequent rain that makes the landscape lush and vibrant. Roses—delicate, fragrant, and ever-present—cling to the walls and blossom in every garden, painting the city with their soft, transient beauty. The seasons in Montá unfold like a tapestry: spring brings life to the roses, summer glistens with rain, autumn wraps the hills in gold, and winter veils the city in mist. Yet through every season, the ever-present cloud of tradition lingers—a reminder that this is not a city for the ordinary, but a world where the wealthy thrive and those outside its walls remain forgotten. Neon, once ensconced in this opulent life, grew under the watchful gaze of this insular society, learning the unspoken rules of its labyrinthine politics and old customs, until fate pulled him away from it all.

_{T R I V I A}

---

Likes:

• Reading books and learning about anything and everything
• Drinking tea
• Singing; Neon has a really pretty singing voice and can often be found humming to himself
• Chocolate, but anything sweet really
• Painting
• Caring for the höpes

Dislikes:

• People touching him without consent, even friendly physical gestures he instinctively recoils from
• Technology, he's terrible at using it
• People with bad intentions

Other:

• He is often mistaken for a woman by strangers, but has stopped correcting people who address him as such, as it is such a common occurrence
• As a Funérailles (Hopekeeper is the more modern term people use), he can be identified by the "Mark of the Funerailles", which is a pair of symbols engraved in the palms of his hands by the previous Hopekeeper. He usually hides these marks by wearing a pair of white gloves, which coordinate with his white silk garments
• Can usually be found with a small book in his pocket for on-the-go reading
• He is the ultimate waifu who can cook really well; he had to learn how to cook for himself since the age of 10
• He is a Montágasque citizen who also has citizenship in Nibelheim due to birth and Dalmasca due to maternal ancestry
• He speaks Montágasque, a dialect of the core Eshean language (French-esque), but he also speaks English with a posh/received pronunciation-style British accent, which is the primary accent in Montá.

_{S O C I A L}

---

To be determined

Regalia

Here is my submission: your local dudebro, but like nice! Obviously open to suggestions and changes if needed- but he is now here for @Mirandae to peruse at your leisure

Akamu Lafaele

details

_{P R E S E N C E}

---

Bold, boistrous, at times literally larger than life, wherever Akamu goes, it's hard not to notice him. Generally amicable and carefree, Akamu's rumbling laugh is regularly meme'd throughout Accadia, and the image of his impressive (and usually shirtless) physique and pearly white smile commonly adorns tourism advertisements, billboards, and even calenders for the Resort City of Kalani. Overflowing with confidence and optimism in abundance, it seems to be practically impossible to bring his spirits down. He regularly refers to others by shortened nicknames, often incorporating elements of islander monikers and lingo into his speech.

Like many Accadian islanders, Akamu is easygoing to a fault, effortlessly relaxed and unflappable in the face of most hardship, seemingly having a calming effect on people wherever he goes. Not to say he never takes things seriously, and Akamu certainly has his moments of concentration and seriousness, but for the most part seems to take the punches as they come easily, and embodies the idea of 'go with the flow'. Exceedingly rare is the sight of an angry Akamu, and the terrifying, literally earthshaking wrath that follows.

While supportive of the common people and their struggles, it is rather obvious that Akamu's sympathies begin to wane quickly when corporations get involved. While rarely ever outright aggressive towards corporate interests, Akamu displays a blatant disregard and disdain towards many of their endeavors. This is especially the case when it comes to the mining and acquisition of Crystals, which he staunchly disapproves of- though admits their necessity for many lives around the world. Attuned to nature and the world around him, Akamu prefers to keep things simple, and while not a luddite, is abysmally bad with technology, failing at all but the simplest tasks- outside of social media anyway, which he appears to be rather adept with.

Akamu avidly engages in sports and athleticism of every kind, though he is a particularly avid surfer. Along with his presence on social media, Akamu has cemented himself as the archetypical 'surfer bro', often being one of the first results when searched online. He has a love for many of the simpler things in life, and is content to drink and laugh with just about anyone. He enjoys music and dance of all kinds and is a big party animal. A rather simple man, Akamu finds a sort of purity and vicarious happiness when witnessing those who earnestly pursue their interests.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Akamu has quite a positive relationship with both his primary Dominant, Titan, and the Dominant of Earth, Gaia. More surprising is his popularity among followers of Leviathan.

_{C H R O N I C L E}

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Akamu was born in the small village Akta in the rural areas outside of the self named Kalani City, on the island of Kalani. Akamu spent the vast majority of his early life and childhood as a follower of Leviathan. It was a surprise then, when at the young age of 12, Akamu was revealed to be blessed to be the Regalia of the Dominant, Titan. The details of how he became blessed are largely unknown, but popular legends tell the tale of a young village boy coming across a traveler who had been pinned underneath a landslide while hiking across through one of the less popular mountain trails. Titan, perhaps intrigued by the sight of a boy attempting to lift a rock many times his size, or simply impressed by his courage took an interest in him. As the boy prayed to Leviathan to help him find a way to help the man, Titan came to him and laughed, asking him what the Great Serpent might have been be able to do for him so far away from the sea. Amused by the boy, or impressed by his answers, Titan decided to offer his blessing, granting the boy the strength to save others. Now with the strength of Titan, the boy was able to lift the mountain and saved the man. The story has become something of a local fable in recent times. Akamu's story is often told across the Accadian islands as a tale to inspire courage and bravery in young children.

As a child of a rather inconsequential village, it was rather easy for the Accadian Government to assume stewardship over Akamu. While a capable learner, and easily capable of causing destruction, Akamu's lax attitude did little to make him a proper soldier- though that wouldn't stop the Accadian Government from making him a public servant. A defender of the people, Akamu raises the spirits of Accadians as a firefighter and conservationist for Kalani City, having notably been responsible for putting a stop to a terrible forest wildfire that threatened the city some 4 years ago.

As a Regalia, Akamu is generally well known by most Accadians, and is extremely popular among Southern Accadian Islanders, often regarded as a local hero. Akamu is notable for using his earth magic to aid in the expansion and revitalization many of the diminished farming areas around the islands, which in turn has allowed for a reduction in the amount of overfishing used to compensate.

Akamu's Dominant form has only been revealed once since his blessing, during what the Accadian Government has now labeled a terror attack. During what amounted to a foreign entity's attempt to kidnap Laura Genevieve, a recently realized fellow Regalia, not an insignificant amount of damage was done to the surrounding land and people. The sight threw Akamu into a rage, resulting in him taking on his Dominant form, in which he used powerful earth magic and overwhelming strength to (literally) bury the attackers. To this day, no Government has claimed responsibility for the attack, and is one of the few times Akamu has regretted having his power. Following the attack, Akamu spending the next several months working tirelessly to restore the land he'd destroyed in the process.

_{H O M E}

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Akamu hails from the island of Kalani, one of the largest islands nestled within the Gulf of Accadia. Aktu, his home village is a small fishing and farming town just outside of the greater Kalani Metropolitan area. The island itself is rather mountainous, dominated by a set of volcanoes in the center, with the vast majority of its population centers focused by the coast and its surrounding lowlands. Southern Accadia- particularly its islands possess a strong culture of spiritualism and community. Respect of nature and of people are among some of the most extolled values, with many often seeking balance between spiritualism and modernity. Generally warm, friendly and modest, most Accadian Islanders are often worshippers and followers of Leviathan and Gaia, though as of recent times, worship of Titan has seen a noticeable rise.

Tourism makes up most of the island economy, for better or worse, and Kalani City in particular has become quite popular for both its world class luxury resorts and the chance to see a real life Regalia walking around the streets. Clashes between modern ideals and more traditional ones are becoming more commonplace, as the rampant commercialism has begun eroding the natural ecosystem and more or less spit in the face of many islanders' spiritual values. Outside the cities, rural Accadians generally remain friendly, but are more cautious towards outsiders and tourists, with some small groups of traditionalists being outright hostile towards who they see as trespassers who trample upon their lands and values.

Perhaps expected of those that live on islands, Southern Accadians have a particularly strong maritime culture, regularly engaging in fishing for food, sport and export. Unsurprisingly, activities involving water- sailing, swimming, surfing, are all incredibly popular amongst Accadians Islanders. Most Islanders learn to swim shortly after they learn to walk, and while not capable of breathing underwater, many are able to hold their breaths for extended periods of time compared to other humans. Charms, jewelry and traditional tools are often made from fishbone, shark teeth, pearls, and other seaborne entities. Leviathan Fangs- traditional daggers made from serpent teeth are particularly popular among youths and tourists as trinkets and souvineers.

_{T R I V I A}

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Likes:

• Surfing, Fishing, Sailing, Skydiving - Basically most activities that would get one's heart pumping or are related to the ocean or beach
• Music, Dance and Parties - Obviously
• Nature and Spiritualism - Perhaps surprisingly
• Sushi

Dislikes:

• Sitting still for too long
• Liars and cheats
• Megacorps and corporate entities- particularly those involved in the mining industry

Unassorted:

• Akamu is perhaps unabashedly a bit of a hypocrite: While often condemning those that do what he feels is wrong, he is more than happy to turn a blind eye to the activities of those that he trusts or cares about.
• Kalani City prints a yearly Regalia-themed Calender with his likeness on it. Copies of the calendars sell out fast and have become something of a collector's item.
• Akamu's has a considerable social media following, and regularly vlogs or takes photos of many of his activities
• Akamu's love of hiking has unintentionally been misinterpreted as a method of worship to Titan. Every year, hundreds of followers of Titan will visit Kalani to hike up the mountain trail to pray to the Dominant. According to Akamu, Titan (probably) finds this quite entertaining.

_{S O C I A L}

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Laura Genevieve, Regalia of Gaia - One of the other Regalia from Accadia, Akamu views her much like an adoptive younger sister, and commonly refers to her as such. Following the attack several years ago, Akamu is fiercely protective of her. Akamu dotes on the younger Regalia, often showering her with gifts when they meet on occasions like holidays or birthdays.

@vietmyke

I'm in love with this character so much. I love Final Fantasy X and the Wakka vibes are strong and I love Wakka! He'll make such a wonderful addition to the story. And the banner! *chef's kiss*

Regalia

"Brothers and Sisters, I ask you to pause... and listen.

What is it that you hear? Silence. Have you ever thought the space between sound, the absence, gives meaning to presence. This is the foundation upon that all things rest on. Silence, nothingness... this is the voice of the Void. It is older than time, before how creation itself stirred, and even before light sought to shine. All that is, comes from nothing.

Everything you see before you, are all but brief flickers of form emerging from the Void. We are often taught to fear the Void, but this belief is a misunderstanding. The endless expanse of the Void is not a force of chaos, or a place of death. The Void is the mother of all beginnings, the first element, primordial and pure. In it lies the infinite potential of creation and destruction.

The true path of Ascension is not found in chasing power, wealth, or glory. It is recognising that we too, are of this nothingness. In embracing the Void, we come to recognise our place within its grand tapestry, to recognise we are fleeting, transient, and yet, in our insignificance, we can become the infinite."

- Nyx

@Silly

This is beautiful Silly. Nicely done capturing the essence of a devout proselyte. Is Nyx the name of your character? *pushes glasses up on nose*

Regalia

What I love about this world and Mirandae's wonderfully detailed worldbuilding is that it allows for a great deal of creative flexibility while still being grounded in the world she built. It's so fun hearing all the different characters being worked on! Very excited to see how these dynamics unfold. :)