Race: Passive (Anxaxi/Hoxian galdor)
Birthday: Achtus 4, 2691
FC: Tony Thornburg
Place of Origin: Vienda, Anaxas
Current Location: Old Rose Harbor
If Albigence Fitz could change one thing about his life, it would not be the fact that he lives in a shack on the water. It would not be that stupid upstairs renter that will not fix the leak directly under his bath, or the godawful name he had been given, or the thousands of jokes he hears daily about his job. It would not be his eternal curse to live as the downtrodden mud stuck to the bottom of every other races' shoe, nor would it be the creeping, unanswerable question of when his diablerie will finally rear its head. No, if Albigence Fitz could change one thing about his life, Albigence Fitz would change his appearance, because, at least then, at least then, when he looked into the mirror, when he caught a glimpse of himself in the glass he blew, when he ran his hands over his face in frustration with the world, at least then he wouldn't be constantly reminded of what he could've been if he was only destined to be normal.
But, no. Albigence Fitz will always be some freak trapped in the body of what could have been. Albigence Fitz is no stranger to the typical appearance of those of Hoxian descent. At a meagre 5'3", he is towered in Old Rose, but at eye level in Hox. His body is low in visible fat, and his face is sharp; his dark brown eyes slant up and out, his nose is flat and long, and his chin is drawn and pointed below thin, scowling lips. His hair and brows are dark and straight, well-kept and much of his physical pride.
Yet, Albigence has done his best to reject the tradition of Hox. He has grown out both his hair and his facial hair, a fashion taboo in the world of Hox that he so happens to enjoy. Lean muscle bulks up his small form, and he rejects the haughty riches of Hoxian style, if not the dark colour palette. Albigence dresses darkly and simply, with whatever doesn't cost much and doesn't restrict his work.
To sum up Albigence Fitz with one Albigence Fitz™️ expression, imagine him standing before you in all his 5'3" glory, arms crossed and jaw set disapprovingly as he scrutinizes you with eyes that threaten an eye roll that will send his irises rocketing into the void of his low brow. Now, imagine this constantly. Albigence Fitz is not a friendly little man.
Albigence Fitz is a grumbles-under-his-breath type, an are-you-clocking-with-me-right-now-you-stupid-ticking-idiot-i-swear-to-every-god-if-you-are-i-will-skip-you-across-that-sea-ass-first-into-the-plague type. Everything is offensive, everything makes him angry, but angrier, and the whole world is out to get the all-important Albigence Fitz. He is cynical, irritable, and takes himself very seriously, even if his job is the perfect spot for many a blow job joke. He is a perfectionist by nature, and expects the same from everyone around him, or stay away. He spares no time for a joke, no time to mess around, and he will tell you to his face what he thinks of alcohol, drugs, whores, bastards, and you.
Albigence Jamison Fitz was born the youngest child of the three children of Jamison and Grenir Fitz, two young galdori of outlandishly wealthy plantation families. Albigence was seven years his sister's junior, and 10 years his brother's and thus spent much of his childhood admiring their magical skills as they swelled and excelled in their classes, two great leaders in their subjects. While he spent a decade as the only child of the house, he was trained in classical music, becoming a young prodigy of the piano that was put on display at every family party. And Albigence Fitz, as he entered school, was scheduled to continue as the prodigy he was.
But he simply didn't. Albigence Fitz showed no trace of magical ability in his examinations. He was taken home, silently, and given a single bag to pack in the hour before the carriage would arrive to take him away. He was not permitted to say goodbye to his family, instead escorted, at a very young age, to Old Rose Harbor alone.
Albigence was quick to learn that pickpocketing was a fool's game. Instead, he needed a skill, and the piano was worthless to most of Old Rose. He offered his apprenticeship to anyone who would listen at the price of a home and food, and he was eventually taken in by a glass-blower of very few words. Though not the most glorious task under extreme heat, or the most well-paying skill, Albigence has grown to truly enjoy it and take pride in his work, even working to create on his own time now that his master has passed away and left him with everything. Albigence's current project is a wonderful instrument of spinning bowls that truly has no name or title other than that in his mind, but he takes it very, very seriously.
Despite his angry nature, Albi's diablerie has rarely presented itself. It has, however, been identified. Albi's diablerie is one of healing. This diablerie presents itself as a wave of living magic that washes around a 15-foot radius to heal the minor wounds of abrasions, bruises, laceration, sprains, twists, jams, broken fingers and toes, and very minor fractures. Those fatigued will also feel a slight boost to energy and stamina.
Career and Income
Housing and Inventory
-to show the world his spinny bowls
-to be very angry all the time
-to be successful and then rub it in his siblings' faces
-to have comic relief among my serious characters