Quacey

Biographical information

Birthplace Moon lit night under a blooming pear tree Born Died Age Adult, only thing that matters Home Where head may lay to rest Sexuality Pronouns

Physical description

Race Duanann Sub-Race Gender Male Height 7'1 Mass Muscle heavy Hair color Dark brown Eye color Gray blue Skin color White

Political information

Affiliation(s) Occupation Knight; Poet; Shepherd Clan(s) Caste Domain Masters Apprentices Alias(es)

Out-of-character information

Writer @thegraywatcher Created on April 21 Avatar https://www.deviantart.com/aenaluck/art/Warrior-Carlness-770196148

Lost little soul on foreign loam.
How far are you going to roam?
Walking in the cold moon lit night.
Do you not fear a lose of sight?
I will find your forgotten home
Before you suffer the worst fright.

High above the moons and stars share little save for their light with the earth below. Longingly the earth traps it below as glittering gems. At times they are discovered and their splendor is witnessed by mortals. Born on a moon lit night beneath a blooming pear a new gift is shared.

Skin white as moonlight. Eyes of starlight. Hair like rich soil. Before you stands chiseled beauty beyond mortal skill. The radiance of night meeting the sturdy earth. Muscles thick and firm as old oak. Face handsome by all measures. Quacey is the living art of the eternal artist.

Lost steps tread darkness. Softly the light of twin moons illuminates the earthen path. Wandering ends. Purpose begins.

Subtle as the night, Quacey holds dominion over the lost. Those who have strayed from their path in need of guidance and aid always find their way to Quacey. Or he to them. Like a lantern in the dark all, mortals and fae alike, have a way of meeting him in their time of need.

But just because fate inevitably brings the lost to their guide does not mean Quacey is capable of offering the aid they need. Their troubles may be beyond him or even overwhelm him completely. Yet he can not avoid his destiny. Troubles will always find their way to him no matter how much he prays for peace. There will never be true solitude for him as the longer he tries to isolate himself from the worries of the world the more intensely they will greet him when they find him.

Born under the moons and stars, Quacey is a Lunar child.

Earth and Light bless Quacey.

No darkness can overwhelm his sight. Destined to brave darkness, only intense light can force him to avert his gaze. A cloth must be worn to protect his eyes during the day.

The ground beneath his feet speaks to Quacey. Movements upon her surface are shared through vibrations with him. None within half a mile that move can go unnoticed.

Like the lost to his flame, Quacey finds kinship with moths. When he wishes to not longer bare his human form, he can shift himself into a single large moth or an eclipse of moths.

Spring is the time of life and newfound freedom. It is the best place for one who frees the lost from the darkness of their lives. A Seelie born. A Seelie court. But an Unseelie opinion and mind.

Fae: A fae of duanann blood. Time means little. Iron burns. All the quirks and gifts of his mother's kind are his own.

Poet-Knight: Be it blade or quill, intimately is it held. Perfection in form. Wisdom in experience. A natural fighter of fists and words was born.

Secrets: No lie may pass fae lips. Half truths and unspoken words are both enemy and ally alike. A child of the night has much to hide and so little to share.

Magical: Healing hand. Invigorating words. Lights and darkness. Actions shape perception. Perception shapes the world.

Knight. Poet. Titles that shape how a man behaves. Wishing to never regret again even more so.

Lady of Summer courted by a mortal man. Warrior? Knight? Saint? Tyrant? His son will never know. She flees Summer for Spring. In half truths and silence she hides her child's origins. Beneath the light of the twin moons dancing between the petals of a blooming pear the son is born.

With all her ambition and all her affection did she raises her son. Perfection in the blade. Perfection in lyrics and words. Perfection in everything. Only perfection could prove he was a lesser to no fae. Prove to the former child of Summer that the fruit of her passion was a gift and not a curse.

Struck by pride was the mother in her son. Struck by sickness was she when his rite to adulthood began to grow close. Harder did the son push himself to be the best. He needed to make his mother proud. He needed to earn that unconditional affection given even from her sickbed. He could not lose to any other. Perfection was the only thing allowed.

But tragic was the end of the tale. The day the son was ushered into adulthood was the day the mother died. Lost, purposeless. The son had nothing left. For decades he did little more than keep all the things he learned sharp. A hunt here. A dance there. A few fleeting moments of fun to break his ambitionless days.

Then one day the fae man went on a hunt. No prey was found. Only a lost fae child. She sat there weeping. Dirty and starving, the fae man felt sorrow for her in his heart. He decided to help the girl find her parents.

Curse was the girl. Beasts, monsters, and evil things were drawn to her. They desired to gobble her up whole. Every day for two years a new threat. Every day filled with danger. The fae man had to use everything his mother had made him learn to keep her safe and find their way. But eventually he got her home.

Tragedy befell this newly formed knight yet again. Exhausted after all the years by the curse, the girl's parents had abandoned her those two years ago. Suddenly back as their lives had begun to become stable, the father broke. In a fit of insanity he drew his dagger and killed his little girl. Her mother screamed out, so she to did he kill. The act suddenly sobering him, the father wept as he took his own life. The new knight did not, could not, do anything to stop what had happened. Frozen, he just stood there watching....

Twice robbed of his purpose by tragedy, the new knight began to spiral. He tried to drown himself in drink. Fights were picked, the stronger the better. Reckless adventures undertaken. He sought an end in it all, yet never once did he turn his blade on himself. Decade after decade this went on. But slow as the earth beneath his feet, he eventually was able to accept what had happened. In it he discovered himself and his fate in helping others to do the same.

Blessed by the Twins, the Lord of their home was given a set of his own. Their mother shortly after passing onto the next journey beyond. Helping hands sought and recruited but as a parent he must persist in raising his brood alone.

Progeny:
Quinn- twin sister of Othello. Mother is Ophelia.
Othello- twin brother of Quinn. Mother is Ophelia.