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Description
edit: //small art edits

Info:

Name: Castor Vasir
Alias: Dioskouri [a joint stage name with his twin brother, Pollux]
Gender/Sex: Cis Male
Orientation: brother complex Homosexual (leaning towards demi-spectrum)
Age: 24
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 145 lbs

Kingdom: Noctil
Class: Dancers
Weapon: Sword
Abilities: Dancing | Singing | Sassing | Gambling | Swindling | Entertaining
Stats:
STR 🁢🁢🁢 (3)
MAG 🁢 (1)
SKL 🁢🁢🁢🁢 (4)
SPD 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 (6)
LCK 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 (7)
DEF 🁢🁢 (2)
RES 🁢🁢 (2)
Total: (25)

Personality:

✓ Energetic ▸ Castor is always overflowing with energy, and it's not rare to see him fidgeting when forced to stand still. He's also exuberant in his interactions with other people, to the point that not even the most sedate or surly of individuals can get him down.

✓ Friendly ▸ As an entertainer, Castor is a People Person by trade. He enjoys the company of both friends and strangers, especially when he's doing what he does best — dancing to bolster their spirits when things get tough.

✓ Good-Natured ▸ Nothing ever seems to get Castor down. He might not exactly be everyone's best friend, and while there are certainly people who get on his nerves, he's almost unfailingly good-natured about most people and circumstances. He's patient and friendly to anyone who deserves it, and even to some who don't necessarily deserve that (though whether sarcasm has anything to do with that one is anyone's guess.)

✓ Charismatic ▸ Living a life on the road, dancing on the streets to make a living, Castor wouldn't have lasted long without some measure of charisma. He knows people, and generally knows how to handle a given situation to make sure it goes in his favor, whether it's getting someone to treat him to a drink in the tavern at night, or tempting them to part with an extra coin or two after a performance.

✓ Clever ▸ And with charisma comes no small degree of cleverness. Castor might be an energetic people-person, but living on the road has given him a quick mind. While never formally educated, he's taught himself to read and do math, all the better to make sure he and his brother were never tricked or swindled out of pay they deserved. He's also quite the adept gambler, and has a quick and clever eye for tricks.

✖︎ Cynical ▸ Though outwardly friendly and sociable, Castor is incredibly cynical. Traveling, he's seen a lot of the war, and a lot of the worst in people. He's seen people he cared about hurt and cheated, and has been himself as well. As such, despite his friendliness, he doesn't trust anyone but his brother, and generally assumes the worst in people (sometimes even after seeing evidence of the contrary). In his mind, though, because he's already so cynical, it allows him to be friendly with almost everyone he meets, since they'll never let him down — he was never expecting much in the first place.

✖︎ Shallow ▸ It comes with the territory, of course — Castor makes his entire living off of his appearance, and takes every care with it. He's incredibly shallow, and doesn't bother denying it. This extends to his personality as well. If something isn't interesting to him, or important to him, then he won't even bother with it.

✖︎ Sarcastic ▸ Energetic and friendly as he is, Castor is also impulsively sarcastic. The nicer the person, the less venom his sarcasm has, and it tends to be more of an "all in good fun" mentality; however, with cold or serious or cruel or generally un-fun people, his sarcasm and ire becomes that much more biting, and he hides his dislike behind a smile and a backhanded comment.

✖︎ Obsessive ▸ Perhaps his most defining character trait, though also the least obvious at first. Castor is obsessive to an almost painful degree; not with any thing or idea, but with his twin brother. In the end, no matter the people or circumstance, the stakes or the morals involved, the only thing he cares about at all in the world is his brother. Pollux is all he has, all he's ever had, and all of Noctil and Soleil and all the wars can go to hell for all he cares.

History:

It's an isolated life on the road, but never lonely. Traveling troupes become like family, so even when they are as far from civilization as it is possible to be, they always have each other. And for Castor, it was a less lonely life than for most. Not for even one moment of his life has he ever been alone, forever and always at the side of his twin brother. Hard, rough living under the sun, under the stars, so often miles and miles from any town or any person, and Castor would never have chosen to be anywhere else.

Though no one could have compared in Castor's mind to the perfection that was his brother Pollux, their mother came close. He loved her, and admired her more than anyone. Even when he and Pollux were small, Castor would sneak away from whatever member of the troupe was watching them at the caravan and go to spy on his mother dancing in town. She must have been the most graceful creature on earth, but she was also ferocious, and her dance was as powerful and as beautiful as a dragon. Once, when he was nine, he tried to dance with her beautiful sword, almost too heavy for him to lift. He mimicked the moves he had all-but memorized but, too small and too weak to hold her sword, he only ended up tripping and cutting himself. His mother had yelled at him, and proved she was just as fierce a mother as she was a dancer.

Even so, there was no keeping the twins from joining the troupe, and their mother never would have had it any other way. Angry as she had been at him for playing with her (very real, very dangerous) sword, she praised his conviction, and taught her boys her very special dance. From the time they were able to walk, Castor and Pollux had joined in on more than one dance in towns here and there, teetering cutely while the adults dodged about them. The older they got, the more they contributed, until they were given dances to do on their own. It was a life Castor would have lived happily forever, dancing with his family, with his brother, for the spirit and the glory of their country.

But a life on the road is not only lonely; it is dangerous as well. The dance troupe took work wherever they could find it, from the biggest, most central cities to the most remote of villages. Castor saw his fair share of hardship, of homes destroyed by battle, of people all too willing to take advantage of a small group of travelers, of townspeople and cons looking to cheat or steal them out of their hard-earned coin. But all of that simply came with the territory, the dangers and hardships necessary to endure when you lived constantly on the move as they did. Castor thought he could bear it.

Their mother had a special gift, and humble as their troupe was, it earned her a name in Noctil. Any dancer can dance, but it takes a Dancer to reinvigorate the weary and the wounded, to lift the spirits of those too close to despair. A battle is won by soldiers, but soldiers are men and women, flesh and blood, and they tire and they hurt and they die. To that end, those special few Dancers from across Noctil received frequent contracts from the government, inviting or conscripting them into its armies to give their soldiers the spirit needed to conquer. Their troupe had taken such jobs before; in their youth, Castor and Pollux had been left behind in the nearest village while their mother and her best dancers went to dance on the front lines. As they grew older, however, their mother took them along with her, and together the trio would dance their dragon's dance.

By the time he was sixteen, Castor was no stranger to battlefields. As long as Pollux was dancing next to him, he could survive anything, and could dance to the end of his endurance. That was itself a blessing and a curse. His vision would narrow until it was just him and Pollux, dancing and restoring the strength of the soldiers nearest them, dodging blows or taking small hits where necessary to keep moving forward. And it was in such a moment, where nothing existed but him and his brother, that he forgot about his mother. Pollux saw it first, and by the time Castor noticed, it was already too late.

Their mother gave her life for Noctil, but Castor didn't think he could do the same. It was too much; not only the threat of losing his own life, but the gripping fear that he could lose Pollux the same way they lost their mother. The battle had been bloody, and many of their troupe had been killed or injured. By the time they retreated and regrouped, fleeing to the nearest safest spot, so many of them had been lost. Castor couldn't take it — he begged Pollux to leave, to go and leave the painful memories behind along with the only family they'd ever known. Pollux never could say no to Castor.

They lived on their own for a while, dancing to make money, gambling when they needed more. Every so often, for safety on the road, they would join up with other traveling troupes. Sometimes they would stay a while, and others they parted from more quickly; in the end, they always left eventually. For Castor, it was enough. He saw that the only family he needed, the only family he'd ever needed, was his brother; as long as they were together, it didn't matter where they were or what they were doing. But he knew, deep down, that it wasn't all Pollux needed. Their mother's death had hit them both hard, but while Castor had rejected it, hated Noctil and the war for taking her away from him, Pollux had seen her death as sacrifice. If Noctil had been worth dying for for her, then it was worth dying for for Pollux, too. Castor had never disagreed with anything more vehemently in his life, but what could he do? To continue wandering, living just to live, wasn't enough for Pollux, and Castor could only keep him from his calling for so long.

When they volunteered for the army, Castor hated it, but kept the feeling carefully locked up. He wasn't going to die for Noctis, but he'd die before letting Pollux die for Noctis — to that end, he'd just have to dance his best, fight hard, and protect his brother with everything he had.

Extras:
▸ Twin brother of Pollux ; Castor is the younger twin.

Description
edit: //small art edits

Info:

Name: Castor Vasir
Alias: Dioskouri [a joint stage name with his twin brother, Pollux]
Gender/Sex: Cis Male
Orientation: brother complex Homosexual (leaning towards demi-spectrum)
Age: 24
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 145 lbs

Kingdom: Noctil
Class: Dancers
Weapon: Sword
Abilities: Dancing | Singing | Sassing | Gambling | Swindling | Entertaining
Stats:
STR 🁢🁢🁢 (3)
MAG 🁢 (1)
SKL 🁢🁢🁢🁢 (4)
SPD 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 (6)
LCK 🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢🁢 (7)
DEF 🁢🁢 (2)
RES 🁢🁢 (2)
Total: (25)

Personality:

✓ Energetic ▸ Castor is always overflowing with energy, and it's not rare to see him fidgeting when forced to stand still. He's also exuberant in his interactions with other people, to the point that not even the most sedate or surly of individuals can get him down.

✓ Friendly ▸ As an entertainer, Castor is a People Person by trade. He enjoys the company of both friends and strangers, especially when he's doing what he does best — dancing to bolster their spirits when things get tough.

✓ Good-Natured ▸ Nothing ever seems to get Castor down. He might not exactly be everyone's best friend, and while there are certainly people who get on his nerves, he's almost unfailingly good-natured about most people and circumstances. He's patient and friendly to anyone who deserves it, and even to some who don't necessarily deserve that (though whether sarcasm has anything to do with that one is anyone's guess.)

✓ Charismatic ▸ Living a life on the road, dancing on the streets to make a living, Castor wouldn't have lasted long without some measure of charisma. He knows people, and generally knows how to handle a given situation to make sure it goes in his favor, whether it's getting someone to treat him to a drink in the tavern at night, or tempting them to part with an extra coin or two after a performance.

✓ Clever ▸ And with charisma comes no small degree of cleverness. Castor might be an energetic people-person, but living on the road has given him a quick mind. While never formally educated, he's taught himself to read and do math, all the better to make sure he and his brother were never tricked or swindled out of pay they deserved. He's also quite the adept gambler, and has a quick and clever eye for tricks.

✖︎ Cynical ▸ Though outwardly friendly and sociable, Castor is incredibly cynical. Traveling, he's seen a lot of the war, and a lot of the worst in people. He's seen people he cared about hurt and cheated, and has been himself as well. As such, despite his friendliness, he doesn't trust anyone but his brother, and generally assumes the worst in people (sometimes even after seeing evidence of the contrary). In his mind, though, because he's already so cynical, it allows him to be friendly with almost everyone he meets, since they'll never let him down — he was never expecting much in the first place.

✖︎ Shallow ▸ It comes with the territory, of course — Castor makes his entire living off of his appearance, and takes every care with it. He's incredibly shallow, and doesn't bother denying it. This extends to his personality as well. If something isn't interesting to him, or important to him, then he won't even bother with it.

✖︎ Sarcastic ▸ Energetic and friendly as he is, Castor is also impulsively sarcastic. The nicer the person, the less venom his sarcasm has, and it tends to be more of an "all in good fun" mentality; however, with cold or serious or cruel or generally un-fun people, his sarcasm and ire becomes that much more biting, and he hides his dislike behind a smile and a backhanded comment.

✖︎ Obsessive ▸ Perhaps his most defining character trait, though also the least obvious at first. Castor is obsessive to an almost painful degree; not with any thing or idea, but with his twin brother. In the end, no matter the people or circumstance, the stakes or the morals involved, the only thing he cares about at all in the world is his brother. Pollux is all he has, all he's ever had, and all of Noctil and Soleil and all the wars can go to hell for all he cares.

History:

It's an isolated life on the road, but never lonely. Traveling troupes become like family, so even when they are as far from civilization as it is possible to be, they always have each other. And for Castor, it was a less lonely life than for most. Not for even one moment of his life has he ever been alone, forever and always at the side of his twin brother. Hard, rough living under the sun, under the stars, so often miles and miles from any town or any person, and Castor would never have chosen to be anywhere else.

Though no one could have compared in Castor's mind to the perfection that was his brother Pollux, their mother came close. He loved her, and admired her more than anyone. Even when he and Pollux were small, Castor would sneak away from whatever member of the troupe was watching them at the caravan and go to spy on his mother dancing in town. She must have been the most graceful creature on earth, but she was also ferocious, and her dance was as powerful and as beautiful as a dragon. Once, when he was nine, he tried to dance with her beautiful sword, almost too heavy for him to lift. He mimicked the moves he had all-but memorized but, too small and too weak to hold her sword, he only ended up tripping and cutting himself. His mother had yelled at him, and proved she was just as fierce a mother as she was a dancer.

Even so, there was no keeping the twins from joining the troupe, and their mother never would have had it any other way. Angry as she had been at him for playing with her (very real, very dangerous) sword, she praised his conviction, and taught her boys her very special dance. From the time they were able to walk, Castor and Pollux had joined in on more than one dance in towns here and there, teetering cutely while the adults dodged about them. The older they got, the more they contributed, until they were given dances to do on their own. It was a life Castor would have lived happily forever, dancing with his family, with his brother, for the spirit and the glory of their country.

But a life on the road is not only lonely; it is dangerous as well. The dance troupe took work wherever they could find it, from the biggest, most central cities to the most remote of villages. Castor saw his fair share of hardship, of homes destroyed by battle, of people all too willing to take advantage of a small group of travelers, of townspeople and cons looking to cheat or steal them out of their hard-earned coin. But all of that simply came with the territory, the dangers and hardships necessary to endure when you lived constantly on the move as they did. Castor thought he could bear it.

Their mother had a special gift, and humble as their troupe was, it earned her a name in Noctil. Any dancer can dance, but it takes a Dancer to reinvigorate the weary and the wounded, to lift the spirits of those too close to despair. A battle is won by soldiers, but soldiers are men and women, flesh and blood, and they tire and they hurt and they die. To that end, those special few Dancers from across Noctil received frequent contracts from the government, inviting or conscripting them into its armies to give their soldiers the spirit needed to conquer. Their troupe had taken such jobs before; in their youth, Castor and Pollux had been left behind in the nearest village while their mother and her best dancers went to dance on the front lines. As they grew older, however, their mother took them along with her, and together the trio would dance their dragon's dance.

By the time he was sixteen, Castor was no stranger to battlefields. As long as Pollux was dancing next to him, he could survive anything, and could dance to the end of his endurance. That was itself a blessing and a curse. His vision would narrow until it was just him and Pollux, dancing and restoring the strength of the soldiers nearest them, dodging blows or taking small hits where necessary to keep moving forward. And it was in such a moment, where nothing existed but him and his brother, that he forgot about his mother. Pollux saw it first, and by the time Castor noticed, it was already too late.

Their mother gave her life for Noctil, but Castor didn't think he could do the same. It was too much; not only the threat of losing his own life, but the gripping fear that he could lose Pollux the same way they lost their mother. The battle had been bloody, and many of their troupe had been killed or injured. By the time they retreated and regrouped, fleeing to the nearest safest spot, so many of them had been lost. Castor couldn't take it — he begged Pollux to leave, to go and leave the painful memories behind along with the only family they'd ever known. Pollux never could say no to Castor.

They lived on their own for a while, dancing to make money, gambling when they needed more. Every so often, for safety on the road, they would join up with other traveling troupes. Sometimes they would stay a while, and others they parted from more quickly; in the end, they always left eventually. For Castor, it was enough. He saw that the only family he needed, the only family he'd ever needed, was his brother; as long as they were together, it didn't matter where they were or what they were doing. But he knew, deep down, that it wasn't all Pollux needed. Their mother's death had hit them both hard, but while Castor had rejected it, hated Noctil and the war for taking her away from him, Pollux had seen her death as sacrifice. If Noctil had been worth dying for for her, then it was worth dying for for Pollux, too. Castor had never disagreed with anything more vehemently in his life, but what could he do? To continue wandering, living just to live, wasn't enough for Pollux, and Castor could only keep him from his calling for so long.

When they volunteered for the army, Castor hated it, but kept the feeling carefully locked up. He wasn't going to die for Noctis, but he'd die before letting Pollux die for Noctis — to that end, he'd just have to dance his best, fight hard, and protect his brother with everything he had.

Extras:
▸ Twin brother of Pollux ; Castor is the younger twin.