the nightstand is littered with misbegotten items. some dried noodle cups here, some letters there. another person had lived here before henry. expecting their return, he never seems to have moved their things. he's haphazardly crammed his belongings into the drawers, ready to be picked into his suitcase to search for another home. fortunately, he has little to his name.
BIOGRAPHY
cire'zi dhenrixa—you'll know him as just henry—is a salesman of no renown
he is bright, considerate, lenient, and that is all he would like you to know. cursed by perpetual, sustaining misfortune, it should count as no wonder his aversion to strangers. alas! the man has a quota to fill, and no manner of vagrants will dissuade him from his dead end, nine-to-five job of peddling things on the street.little known, the man moonlights as a card count, a peddler of (literal) forgeries; documents, identification and vagrant of other otherwise indiscriminate, 'harmless' white-collar crimes. not a number goes out of place, not a second passed without it's entails detailed on a file. like clockwork, the cat maneuvers through waves of faces with a beaming, bright smile, advertising himself as green and naive.and he wants nothing more but to be your friend.
An inconspicuous workdesk. Documents are neatly piled across it's surface.You pick one up.
DOSSIER
NAME: henry.
AGE: twenty-six.
RACE: keeper of the moon, miqo'te
NAMEDAY: fifth day of the fifth astral moon.
PATRON DEITY: rhalgr, the destroyer.
HOMELAND: nomadic, (dravanian / ilsabard) raised limsan.OCCUPATION: door-to-door salesman, former assessor-arcanist.
TALENTS: arithmetic, card-counting, conmanship, fraud, forgeries and tax evasion; arcanima and the freedom in it's functions.
RESIDENCES: the lavender beds, the goblet, shirogane; wherever and whatever he could sink his claws into readily becomes another roof over his head. he wonders how long he can keep this up. he wonders if it'll be like this forever.
RELIGION: he's more likely to phase through cycles of religious engagement afore latching back onto agnosticism.
COMMON HOOKS
PALE CAT CROSSING: lo'! behold! the freakshow is in town! henry tells stories of his curse; chandeliers buckle, staircases crumble. floors shake until he trips, and skylines untangle them from their hooks to whip at him. he's cursed. he's so, so terribly cursed that he has a bit of a complex about it. it comes as no surprise that he's seen to a few doctors, few mystics, few witches and mages and occultists and anyone who knows their way 'round aetherology, but ..
between you and me, it doesn't look like he wants it really gone.
STRAY THING: you'd find him anywhere. smiling; willing; happy to lend a hand to anyone who asks for it, and he does it without too much inquiry (given that he's appropriately paid). one thing or another, but he has a way of worming into your social circle, given the chance—he'll stay wherever he's been allowed.A BAD PERSON: beyond the obvious upper-crust, the man's loose with his morals; he'll scam anyone, would they give him the chance. of course, he keeps an eye out for folk he shouldn't cross—but maybe he made an exception for you.: as goes with above, you can also pay him to commit any of the previous deeds read prior. though he's most known for his sales and con-artistry tactics, he's also a talented forger; making documents, identification information, signatures and more for whoever seeks out his services.KNAVE!: though generally avoiding debt nowadays, you might know him from his days under gambling spells, wasting away in debauch casinos. those addictions haven't waned, and if you ask him to a game, he won't say no. of course, this can escalate.FISH-EYES: were you in limsa? live in limsa? if you were a resident there during henry's teenage years, good chances are you might recognize him by the shape of his ears. he's not as short anymore, but that trepidation still sticks around. ask for more info recommended!UNDER A SCOPE: he's got eyes. have an odd aether 'round you? he's likely to detect it, given that you give him prompt to investigate.LOOKING TO MEND: due to his nature to get wrapped into things, he's curious about learning to mend injuries. of course, he has his usual physick, but he's interested in more.A GARDEN COVERED IN THORNS: in need of a botanist? a gardener? or maybe you're looking to 'accidentally' slip someone a drink of nightshade? Henry might know a guy, believe it or not—and he's more than happy to introduce you!
RARE HOOKS | SPOILERS AHEAD
RARE HOOKS
CONTACT BEFORE INITIATING ANY OF THESE
BLOOD ON YOUR HANDS: moons have passed, but he remembers well the stench of bodies. five poachers; twelveswood—found, then buried. folk on the lookout may had found white hair—or sign of his suitcase and tail.gyr albanian villagers: their chief and people racking up in double-digits. done in by explosives, first strapped to his own chest—before donating it as a gift. subsequently after, undone by the marching force of one warlord by name of shaka. did you see his face? he's sorry. he's so sorry.IN GOOD COMPANY: the man is everywhere. he's gotten the process down to a science, and maybe you're onto something. there's something too naive, too good-hearted in his smile, and how easily he seems to slip between demeanor like wearing new skins. it's rude to stare, you know—you should at least greet him..OLDNEW FRIENDS: you knew him from his time in maelvaan's gate, and to say he's changed a bit is an understatement. for one, he doesn't have those dead eyes anymore. furthermore; he seems to stare at you with furious ire, and you can't name a reason why. what's turned him against his old colleagues?
pushed out of sight, henry's endless pile of laundry is bundled into every nook and cranny where he can't find it unless he tried, all casual wear and garb and old, unsized uniforms. there is a sole exception to this disregard: his business blouse, suit, vest and tie. even his boots recieve better treatment.there is a mirror in his room, only tall enough to reflect up to his collar.
5'11 ◇ 114 ponz ◇ blue-colored skin ◇ pale haira gangly sort, showing absolutely no sign of muscle nor strength in his long limbs; the fat thinning most around his waist and the base of his thighs. henry's complexion—in the typical onlooker's gaze—seems to suffer no scars nor abnormal complexes. You could pin him to his middle-twenties, soon to begin the slow fade from youth.his ears hang high over his head, sharpening into a horn-like silouette. his tail looks like it could use a better shave, and his eyes are cat-like and yellow.henry always seems to smile.
the only photo you find of his face.
