Bastien Bisoux
Smuggler. Fugitive. Reluctantly bound to a far-too-kind fairy. Unabashedly depressed sack of shit. Fallen son of a fallen house. Guy who just straight up is not having a good time and does not want to talk to you. Generally unpleasant man who is like this for no reason.*
*except the many actual reasons.**
Basic Details.
Race and Clan: Ishgardian Elezen (derogatory)
Age: 38 years old (he just looks like that)
Gender/Sexuality: Bisexual (forma de no bitches) Man (predictably)
Canonical Jobs: Archer (terrible,) Scholar (reluctant,) Sage (slightly tsunderely,) Guy with a Gun (yeah)
home.
Trivia.
Pets.
Though he's long left his home, Bastien has two pets, both from that time.First, a morbol seedling, bred selectively for generations to stunt its growth and keep it small and docile. A delightfully Ishgardian take on the Ul'dahn tradition of keeping one about at parties, Bastien took to making sure the thing was well cared for after his father died, no longer allowing it to be employed at his mother's parties. He had hoped the poor beast would pass before long, but its remarkable resilience has kept it by his side to this very day, much to his chagrin.Second, a unicorn, acquired near the end of his mother's life in one of her last attempts to curry favor with the church by offering it to them as a colt. She passed before it came of age, leaving it in the care of Bastien, who had no interest in clergical bootlicking. Though from a childhood of endless water consecration, it would soon be on the road with Bastien in his self-exile... though it's never unhappy in his company.Unsurprisingly, the Morbol is named "Melvin" and the unicorn is named "Colton."This left him with two more voracious mouths to feed, though at the least they both come in handy; the former is a good way to keep people from talking to him, and the latter has grown into a sturdy steed. Despite appearances, the two are possibly the only living creatures Bastien genuinely cares for... even if he rarely shows it to others.
Echo.
Bastien has it. He realized it at an early age, though the visions he manifested were rarely as exciting as the Warrior's, Krile's, or Mikoto's. Bastien's echo allowed him to see situations he was in through the eyes of other people, mostly his family, given his lack of contact with others. After a long day of playing with his brother, he would see himself through those loving eyes. After a family meal, he would watch himself squirm under his mother's judgmental gaze. After a stern lecture, he would hear the cruel words of his father come out of his own mouth.Past tense, all of it; eventually, Bastien stopped getting these flashbacks at all. For a bit of time after leaving home, he saw the same visions repeatedly, old memories, but eventually even those faded.Now, his Echo is little more than a wellspring of aether to draw from... not that he's complaining. It's convenient having enough to teleport frequently, given his line of work. Furthermore, while he never personally trained in magic, Selene appreciates the bounty of magical reserves.In recent years, his Echo has once more manifested, though only when dealing with others in vulnerable states where their mental barriers are lowered. This also means it tends to trigger rather easily around animals.
MSQ.
General.
Overall, Bastien's job tends to take him where the action is, which means he naturally happens to trail behind the Warrior of Light, though the two may never meet. Specifically, the Scions in their trans-national adventuring often need supplies that don't worry too much about national boundaries, and Bastien's service are often found in their retinue. That said, he's no major combatant himself; while he may be present for certain major battles or events, he's not going to be dungeoneering alongside the WoL apart from extentuating circumstances. Or, fuck, if they pay him.
Heavensward.
One of the arcs where his overlap is a little bigger is in Heavensward. One of Tataru's Ishgardian contacts, Bastien spends the expansion mostly within the region rather than avoiding it, making sure the Lalafell is protected from any brumerats thinking to abduct her as she roams as a bargaining chip in extorting the Warrior of Light. His goods are also well appreciated, often being what she uses to sweeten the pot in her bantering with the residents of the Forgotten Knight.Unfortunately (for him,) this puts him in the proximity of the Warrior of Light and their traveling party, which ends up getting him roped along for their excursion into Dravania as a less "heretical" guide to the region alongside Ysayle. This sees him present alongside the group for roughly the rest of the expansion, only parting ways with them after the confrontation in Zenith before the Aery. He reunites with the party before the Vault, somehow roped into joining in with them, though their adventure would fully end after Ysayle's death in Azys Lla. He remains on the ship and returns to his solitude after they head back to Ishgard.
NPCs.
The Scions.
Bastien has a distant, professional relationship with the Scions, frequently coming by their bases to bring stuff through though rarely sticking around. Tataru is the only one particularly acquainted with him, though she knows little of his history. Thancred has an interest in him, but also knows better than to stick his nose into the man's business, well aware that that'd only be worse for their relationship than keeping distant. Still, he's as cordial with all of them as they wish to be with him... which in the case of Y'shtola and Alisaie, at least, is not very much at all.
Ysayle.
Though Bastien presents the voice of neutrality in the party between Estinien and Ysayle's bickering, he often sides more with Ysayle than Estinien when he does bother to get involved. That said, the two still have an exceedingly rocky start; his inaction despite recognizing the flaws in the world disgusts her, and her continued passion seems naive to him. Eventually, though, he comes to realize that caring isn't the worst thing someone can do, and she comes to realize that people like him, too destroyed to fight for themselves, are the people she fights for. The end of their time together was amicable, though short lived, given the tragedy at Azys Lla.
Alphinaud.
The young Leveilleur quickly gets the sense that poking and prodding at Bastien is not healthy for their dynamic. As such, he begins to treat him with the cordial distance that he so greatly enjoys, and becomes one of the few people Bastien can enjoy the company of.
Haurchefant.
Haurchefant's good heart, and the fact that Bastien presented no competition in his attempts to court the WoL, meant that the son of Fortemps remained amicable with Bastien long enough for him to take down his colder exterior. Though Bastien was initially suspicious, just as he is of all nobility, even the bastards, Haurchefant's nature eventually proved itself to be genuine, something that deeply surprised the more jaded man. This only served to devastate him all the more after he came to respect Haurchefant's goodness and see it destroyed atop the Vault, the same way his own brother's once was. Well, not literally the same way.
Estinien.
Bastien thinks Estinien is a dumb, edgy loser.
Estinien thinks Bastien is a dumb, emo loser.Bastien did watch the Final Steps of Faith happen and thought "THIS IS NOT YOUR HAND, WYRM!" was kinda hot, but he still things Estinien is a dumb, edgy loser.
cw: familial death, abuse, broken homes, abuse, execution, assassination, smoking
Bastien had a brother.
A name he remembers but won't say out loud. A good boy, maybe the only one in the family, a bad thing to be. Bastien may have joined him, in another life. But Bastien didn't have that life.Bastien had a father. Not an angry man, not the kind of man who yelled and hit. A hateful one. A man who said "I love you, goodnight" after a day of ruining lives, of rejecting the concerns of his children who watched him do it, after quiet, stern demands of obedience in exchange for security. A man who would do anything to bring his family the slightest comfort, even if it meant leaving another family without a mother who could come home by dinner, or a father who could be there in the morning.Bastien had a mother. A lovely woman everywhere except at home, the kind to come in after father went to bed and remind her children how much they owed, how little they would be without the support of their house, how this is just the system and they could accept it or go live in the alleyways of the Brume.Bastien had a sister. A sister who thought about all this a lot less than he did. Some years older and sweet as sugar, except to all the people she didn't know. She would host functions that honored their house, serving treats and teas that she didn't much care to know the origins of. A constant reminder of what listening to mommy and daddy could make of you.Bastien had an escape. At the functions and the lectures and the muffled sniffling that followed when a child was sent to bed feeling unheard. Bastien had a brother, and the two were in accord, even if Bastien lacked that giggly brightness that he so came to depend on as a way to get through the day. Bastien's brother was the coolest, the nicest, the only one who ever stood up to mother and father and even if it didn't get them anywhere, wasn't standing up at all worth something?Bastien had a brother, a father too, until the inquisitors came by. Heretic. A draconic rosary forgotten on a nightstand, the type of thing heretics living in theocracies totally forgot to put away sometimes, the most believable and conclusive evidence one could ever find. Two bodies were added to the bottom of witchdrop that day, a man and a boy, their deaths proof that the accusations levied against them were false. May they revel in Halone's hallowed halls for all eternity.Bastien had a house, now, in his name. Really, he was in its name; Mirielle. A house descended from no nobility, but granted its status thanks to the great deeds of some ancestor. A house now exonerated of its heretical accusations, but with the line of succession skipped two ahead thanks to the political machinations of someone the archbishop probably already liked quite a bit more. A house in the hands of a son who hated everything it stood for, who hated the system that built it, and who hated having it at all.Bastien had a job. At fourteen winters, it was a job he'd already been doing for four. A job that his friends in the Brume gave him, whenever father said to leave the house because he needed to talk business. It was a fun job; someone would come give him a bag, and he would wander about like the innocent son of a noble house was allowed to do until he got the bag to where they wanted him to. Maybe he'd pass it with the cool sleight-of-hand tricks he'd learned, maybe he'd hide it under some bushes, or maybe he'd just leave it on the side of the road. Whatever the job was, he just listened and went off to buy some sweets.Bastien had no qualifications for houserunning. Dear mother and sister did most of the work. Unfortunately, they had no qualifications either; though mother was shrewd, she was too shrewd, lacking father's gentle (if unscrupulous) touch for negotiating with fellow nobles and proving incapable of appeasing their sensibilities. Though sister was far more in tune with what they might want, she understood too little about the supply chain or keeping inventory, and left mother run ragged trying to keep up with her spending.Bastien had enough in his pocket to stay away from home for a while. He could spend all day at his job, really, and enough responsibility had been delegated away from the absent Baron that no one missed him. Every time he passed by to change, or bathe, or indulge in a meal from the kitchens to save a little money, sister and mother looked different. After a few years, he saw more and more of the latter in the former, the stress of running the house clearly taking its toll on them. He would have loved to help, except for the fact that he'd be no better at it than they were, and that he really wouldn't have loved to help at all.Bastien had two funerals to plan, both due to heart issues, one not long after the other, the latter garnering far more tragic condolences than the former. "We've lost so much," he said flatly to the funeral director, "and would rather mourn in private." Mother's funeral was spent smoking under a tree while sister bawled alone over the grave. "I've lost so much," he said flatly to the funeral director, "and would rather mourn in private." Sister's funeral was spent smoking under a tree.Bastien had a house. Not a noble line. Not a home. Bastien had a house. It was big, and full of stuff, and falling into disrepair after he dismissed all the servants to go find better work than doting hand and foot on a misanthropic noble who didn't want it. Bastien's house reeked of ashtrays and their contents dumped into bins that he "forgets" to take out.Bastien had this one gig. A temple knight wanted a new dagger, and couldn't get it approved in Ishgard. Something, something, regulation, he's meant to use swords, whatever. Bastien got him the dagger, got his pay, and went out to buy some smokes and chocolates. That evening, a bishop was found bled out in a closet with a few dozen stab wounds, and an investigation was called to find out how the attacker got the weapon illegally.Bastien had good practices. His tracks were well covered. Unfortunately, his partners' weren't. Between the risk of a snitch and the loss of a network, there was no reason to stay in Ishgard anymore anyway. He sold the manor, disgraced himself with some claim about moving into the Brume with a lover, and smuggled himself out of the nation. A month later, and he may have been able to celebrate his seventeenth year with the few associates he enjoyed the company of enough to pretend they were friends. He didn't really care, but it'd have been a good chance to get free shit and free cake.Bastien had a name. It wasn't Bastien, and it sounded a lot nicer coming before "Mireille" than Bastien would have. But that name is long gone by now. Nearly two decades of not hearing it hasn't dulled his memory of what it sounded like, in the many voices that used to say it; his father's cold one, his mother's harsh one, his sister's smug one, his brother's kind one, his associates' cheers. They bounce around his head before he sleeps, but never anytime else.Bastien had a life. He has another now. It's much the same, with the key difference that nobody knows him beyond his work. He likes that. Being known isn't worth it. Nor is being good. Bastien knows that in this world, good people get killed by bad people who want them out of the picture. He doesn't much care to be bad people.But Bastien doesn't care much to be dead, either.
home.