The Company I Keep

❝ Every repetition of the name is a seed. And you do the best you can – which is why sincerity, humility, honesty, as well as courage and energy are important. Because, we don't know who we are, we don't know what we're doing, we don't know where we're going. We are hoping, we have the faith, because our teachers have told us that through this practice, we will uncover that presence in our own hearts. That's the only thing that matters. That's why we should be doing it. ❞

name bean.
age 31.
pronouns she/her/they.
location est.
astro sign virgo.

ㅤintroㅤ Hey, I’m Bean 👋 I’m based in EST and have been writing for years, though I only recently got back into roleplay thanks to some big life changes and a desire to make new connections. Writing has always been a creative outlet for me, and RP feels like the perfect way to build stories with others who love character-driven narratives as much as I do.

ㅤdisclaimerㅤ I have AuDHD and bipolar disorder, so I may need a little patience now and then — especially if I get overwhelmed or need time to process. I promise I’ll extend the same patience and understanding in return.

do not No godmodding. Consent matters—even in fiction.
do not No drama or passive-aggression. We’re here to create, not stress.
do not Don’t bottle things up. If you need space, just say so. If you want to shift direction, let’s talk. We’re adults; we can handle complicated characters without making things complicated OOC.

do Be cool. Be clear. Be kind.
do 21+ preferred (18+ minimum). Mature themes need mature writers.
do Communicate OOC. If something feels off, unclear, or uncomfortable—say so. I’ll do the same. Being on the same page matters more than staying in-character 24/7.
doI love stories with tension, flaws, humor, and heart. Ships are fun, but let’s build them through story, not rush into them.
doSeparate IC from OOC. Characters may clash, but that’s not us. If something feels personal, please message me.

Hale Marrick

naguri angura

Elias de Clairmont

leeja Rehw-nong

fandom ffxiv.
age 47.
pronouns he/him.

Gruff, broad-shouldered, and scarred by both war and fire, Hale is the steady hand behind Ash & Loaf. Once a lieutenant in the Immortal Flames and a son of Ala Mhigo’s resistance, he now pours his grit into bread and whiskey, offering warmth under his sharp watch. A man of few words but heavy presence, Hale is equal parts soldier, baker, and guardian of his family’s legacy.

fandom ffxiv.
age 50.
pronouns he/him.

Born of the Steppe, Naguri carries with him the quiet weight of stories, dreams, and grief unspoken. He offers gentle rituals and dream-weaving—threads that honor the living and the lost alike. His gift is not in loud proclamations, but in creating a space where memory breathes and the restless may find rest.

fandom ffxiv.
age 30.
pronouns he/him.

Once gentle, distracted, and endlessly devoted to the sky, he vanished without warning—and returned carrying a stillness that does not belong to the living. There is elegance in him now, and something hollow behind his polite smile, as though the stars have claimed a piece of him he cannot name. He walks homeward through snow and shadow alike, a man trying to pretend he has not been changed… and hoping no one looks too closely...

fandom ffxiv.
age 52.
pronouns he/him.

A restless grin, Leeja talks his way into (and out of) more trouble than most. Quick with a joke and quicker with a wink, he seems to never take life seriously—until he’s by the water. There, with a line cast and the world hushed, the chatter fades, and the only thing he’s chasing is the calm tug of a catch.

Lana Delgado

zayne li

.

fandom lads.
age 22.
pronouns she/her.

Lana carries herself with understated confidence — thoughtful, deliberate, and quietly self-assured. She has a calm, grounded energy that draws others in, but beneath it lies a streak of intense willpower. When she commits, she doesn’t waver.

fandom lads
age 27.
pronouns he/him.

Zayne is a paradox — the calm in chaos, and the chaos that refuses to stay buried. He comes across as quiet and reserved, the kind of man whose silence says more than most people’s speeches. But beneath that stillness is a turbulent undercurrent — guilt, loyalty, love, and a constant war between logic and feeling.

name Hale Marrick.
alias n/a.
age 47.
pronouns he/him.
species hyur.
birthdate fall.
sexuality bisexual.
origin Ala Mhigo.
location Ul'dah.
class(es) Samurai, culinarian.

ㅤpersonalityㅤ Hale is gruff to the bone, the kind of man whose presence alone fills a room before he’s even spoken. Years of war, loss, and rebuilding have carved a hard edge into him, and he wears it openly—scar over his blind grey eye, calloused hands, voice like gravel. He doesn’t waste words; when he speaks, it’s clipped and direct, often laced with a dry wit or a soldier’s bluntness.

Beneath the hard shell, though, is a man driven by loyalty. To family, to the memory of Ala Mhigo, to the people he’s chosen to keep close. He carries that loyalty like armor, protecting those around him even when it means carrying burdens he never voices. Hale struggles with vulnerability, finding it easier to work dough or pour whiskey than to speak feelings aloud, but his care shows in the quiet ways: making sure a plate is full, keeping a watchful eye over regulars, or staying up until the fire burns low just so no one feels alone.

ㅤㅤmoodboardㅤㅤ

ㅤbiographyㅤ Hale Marrick was born in Ala Mhigo, the son of a baker who believed work was love and fire was scripture. From the time he could walk, he was kneading dough with one hand and holding a broom in the other. At twelve, his mother died — and his father, Brenn, put a sword in his hand instead of words in his mouth. By sixteen, Hale was working underground with the Ala Mhigan Resistance, running messages, moving supplies, and keeping his younger brother Garren out of trouble. That was also when he met Elira — sharp-tongued, fearless, and smart enough to see through his quiet. He married her two years later, after dueling her father. It was dramatic. He hated it. She loved it.
The bakery became a haven for more than just bread.

Resistance members met below the ovens, sheltered by the scent of sourdough and secrecy. Elira worked the counter, Brenn watched the stairs, and Hale kept one eye on the door and the other on their daughter, Rina. The Garleans raided the bakery during a sweep. Brenn was killed on the spot. Elira vanished in the fire — presumed dead. Hale barely escaped with a sword through his side, one eye blinded, and a toddler clutched to his chest. He never talks about that night. Only that he ran. And that Garren ran with him.
In Thanalan, Hale traded bread for battle. He joined the Immortal Flames. Let his grief harden into structure. He and Garren rose through the ranks. They fought in the Battle of Carteneau, held the line in Castrum Meridianum, and watched too many die in Mor Dhona. During that time, Hale also dealt in black-market Ala Mhigan spirits — quietly funding resistance cells with smuggled liquor, slipping hope into camps where orders failed.

He raised Rina quietly, from afar. Trained new recruits. Buried more names than he remembers. Then, finally, things started to settle. War slowed. Rina married. A grandson was born — Thalan, loud and chaotic and full of stars. And Hale — gruff, scarred, still missing his wife like a lost limb — finally left the field to pursue baking, taking up the name 'Brenn's Oven' after his father's bakery back home.

name naguri angura.
alias dreamweaver.
age 50.
pronouns he/him.
species xaela.
birthdate winter.
sexuality demisecual.
origin azim steppe.
location wandering.
class(es) astrologian.

ㅤpersonalityㅤ Naguri is quiet, steady, and deeply introspective. He carries the weight of memory with him—both his own and others’—and treats grief, dreams, and silence with reverence. Though sturdy in frame, he rarely imposes; his presence is gentle, often unnoticed until needed.

He listens more than he speaks, asks questions that cut to the heart, and offers care in quiet rituals rather than grand gestures. Haunted by displacement yet grounded in ritual, he is a man who walks with loss but turns it into something tender, deliberate, and human.

ㅤㅤmoodboardㅤㅤ

ㅤbiographyㅤ Naguri Angura was born of the Steppe, a Xaela who grew up beneath wide skies and the weight of old traditions. His life carried him far from that land, through loss, displacement, and the strange stillness of survival. He learned early that not all wounds scar the flesh—many linger in silence, buried in memory and dream. Like many Xaela, his youth was marked by hardship, though the details of his early years are spoken of rarely. Some truths are carried quietly, etched not into words but into the way one walks through the world.

Displacement followed. War, wandering, and the slow unraveling of familiar ground forced him far from his beginnings. In that distance, Naguri learned the quiet language of loss—not only his own, but the kind that clung to others. He found himself listening to griefs that were never spoken aloud, sitting with those who could not sleep, watching how memory twisted itself into dreams. Where others saw burdens too heavy to carry, he found threads. Threads that could be unraveled, understood, or even woven into something new. From this grew his craft. Naguri does not call it magic, nor claims it as some grand gift. To him, it is a quiet service: dream-weaving. A way of walking with another into the liminal spaces of their mind, where memory and meaning blur. Sometimes he helps interpret the shadows left behind after sleep. Sometimes he guides a soul into lucid dreaming, where the living may speak with the lost, or where old wounds might finally be set down. He does not promise miracles. What he offers is time, presence, and a steady hand in a place few dare to tread.

His rituals are small, almost humble—beads strung in remembrance, threads tied to honor grief, candles lit for those who walk no longer among the living. He does not demand belief or reverence; he simply makes room for what others carry in silence. Though his frame is broad and his presence could command, Naguri rarely exerts it. He is a man who listens more than he speaks, whose words come measured and thoughtful, never wasted. His questions are often deceptively simple, yet cut to the heart. Beneath his calm lies the weight of someone who has endured much, yet chooses gentleness where bitterness might have grown. In him lives the Steppe: its resilience, its storms, and its endless sky. Yet he has made himself something more—a quiet guardian of memory, a weaver of dreams, and a keeper of spaces where the weary may finally rest.

name Elias De Clairmont.
alias eli.
age 30.
pronouns he/him.
species elezen.
birthdate spring.
sexuality unknown.
origin Ishgard.
location hemlock.
class(es) astrologian.

ㅤpersonalityㅤ Elias wants to be understood but doesn’t know how to ask for it. He wants to be held accountable but fears what people will think of what he’s become. He wants connection, devotion, and a place to call home—but he walks like someone who isn’t convinced he deserves any of it.

Still, kindness remains his compass. Tenderness remains his instinct. And even now, with shadows clinging to him, Elias’s heart is as gentle as the snow he grew up under—soft, steady, and far more resilient than it looks. He tucks his desires into small boxes and hides them behind immaculate posture and courteous smiles. He pretends he doesn’t long for warmth. He pretends he isn’t lonely.

ㅤㅤmoodboardㅤㅤ

ㅤbiographyㅤ Elias was born into the lower rungs of Ishgardian nobility—“noble” in name more than in wealth or influence. The De Clairmonts were known for their scholarship rather than their status: a line of stargazers, celestial scholars, and soft-spoken thinkers tucked away in the libraries of the Observatorium. His childhood was quiet, spent in the dim amber glow of lanterns and the crisp bite of Coerthan air. While other noble sons were drilled in swordplay and politics, Elias was taught to read the night sky. He grew up under vaulted ceilings and endless star charts, learning to interpret celestial movement with the same familiarity others reserved for prayer. Even then, there was a gentleness to him—an absentminded softness that made him the sort of boy who forgot his gloves but remembered everyone else’s names. He was polite, clever, and terribly easy to overlook. Ishgard favored sharp edges; Elias was all rounded corners.

He entered the Studium in Sharlayan briefly as a young man, but Ishgard remained his heart and his home. When he returned, he apprenticed under senior astrologians at the Observatorium, earning a quiet respect for his precision and calm presence. His readings were never dramatic—they were thoughtful, careful, and often painfully honest. He gained a reputation: “If you want the truth, ask De Clairmont. If you want comfort, ask anyone else.”
He met Rina during an uncharacteristically ferocious blizzard while he was assisting a group of injured travelers at the Observatorium. Among them was a Viera woman with sand in her hair, a glare sharp enough to cut ice, and zero interest in Ishgardian rules or the men who obeyed them. Rina was everything Elias wasn’t: loud, stubborn, untamable, alive. nShe laughed at him for apologizing every other sentence. He smiled at her like she’d brought spring with her. Some stories blossom slowly—this one sparked like flint on steel. Rina teased life into him. Elias steadied her without ever trying to change her. Their romance was impulsive and bright, the kind of love that feels fated even when it’s entirely impractical. Within months, they were inseparable.

When Elias began traveling more frequently for “observational work,” Rina noticed the shifts first—the exhaustion he couldn’t explain, the growing distance, the way he’d stare at his reflection as if expecting someone else to look back. When he vanished altogether, it wasn’t dramatic. It was… eerie.

nameLeeja Rehw-nong.
alias Lee.
age 52.
pronouns he/him.
species Rava.
birthdate spring.
sexuality pansexual.
origin unknown.
location wanderer.
class(es) fisher.

ㅤpersonalityㅤLeeja Rehw-ong is the kind of man who talks first and thinks later, but somehow—miraculously—still lands on his feet. He’s got a mouth that runs faster than a chocobo downhill and a grin that could talk a nun out of her vows. Most people meet him and assume he’s nothing but charm and chaos stitched together, and honestly, they’re not wrong. But beneath the jokes and easy smiles, there’s a kind of steady quiet that only shows up when the world stops moving—usually when he’s out by the water, rod in hand, waiting for something to bite.

Fishing is the only time he shuts up. It’s the one thing that slows his mind, smooths out the noise. He says it’s about the patience of it all—the waiting, the rhythm—but really, it’s the stillness. The sea doesn’t care if you’re clever or kind or a total mess of a man; it just is. And Leeja likes that kind of honesty. He doesn’t trust much else.

ㅤㅤmoodboardㅤㅤ

ㅤbiographyㅤ Leeja’s story starts long before he ever learned to cast a line. His mother, Rheha Rehw-ong, was a Rava who left the forest after mating season—not out of defiance, but out of a quiet, stubborn curiosity. The woods were too still, too certain. Rheha wanted something with movement, something that changed its mind as often as she did. So she followed the rivers down to the sea, traded bark and birdsong for salt air and storms, and never looked back. Leeja grew up in that space between freedom and tide. His earliest memories are of Rheha’s laughter cutting through gull cries, her hands deft and weathered as she pulled in nets twice her size. She taught him that the ocean doesn’t belong to anyone, and that was what made it worth loving. On bad days, she’d tell him the sea was a better listener than most people. On good ones, she’d prove it. He was carried on her back while she worked the docks, napping through storms and ship bells alike. Leeja grew up knowing the sea as his inheritance. He was as slippery as the fish he chased—half dock rat, half storyteller, all charm. The sailors taught him the difference between a liar and a good fisherman (not much, he learned), and Rheha taught him patience, though he never quite mastered it.

He makes his living through fishing, though “living” might be too generous a word. Some days it’s fresh catch and full pockets; others it’s dried jerky, a flask of something cheap, and a long stretch of sea to talk to. He sells to markets when he feels like it, or straight off the docks when he doesn’t. Sometimes he barters—fish for bread, for a smile, for a rumor. Leeja’s never been good at staying put, but he’s great at finding places that need him for just long enough. He’s got a small boat of his own now—barely seaworthy, but stubborn enough to keep up with him. Half the planks are mismatched, patched over the years with whatever he could trade or charm someone into giving him. He calls it The Driftwood, partly because that’s what it looks like and partly because, deep down, he knows that’s what he is too: something that keeps floating, no matter how rough the current.

name Lana Delgado.
alias n/a.
age 22.
pronouns she/her.
species human.
birthdate May 1st.
sexuality ??
origin unknown.
location linkon city.
class(es) hunter.

ㅤpersonalityㅤ At heart, Lana is a bookworm — the kind who disappears into stories as if they were lifelines. Her quarters are stacked with half-read novels and annotated journals, pages dog-eared with thoughts she never says aloud. Books are both her comfort and her compass: they teach her empathy, feed her curiosity, and give her words for emotions she hasn’t learned to name.

She values stability and sincerity, preferring the familiar over the uncertain. Change unsettles her, but she faces it anyway — quietly, stubbornly, and on her own terms. Her loyalty runs deep; once she lets someone in, she’s unwaveringly protective. Lana is also sharp-witted and subtly funny, often surprising people with a dry remark or unexpected observation. Her humor isn’t loud — it’s clever, warm, and timed just right. She’s the sort to defuse tension with a half-smile and one line that makes everyone breathe again.Her Taurus nature shows in her patience and persistence. When she wants something, she commits fully — to her work, her people, her principles. But that same resolve can turn to stubbornness; she struggles to let go, whether of an idea, a person, or a hurt.

ㅤㅤmoodboardㅤㅤ

name Zayne Li.
alias Dr. Zayne.
age 27.
pronouns he/him.
species human.
birthdate Sept. 5th.
sexuality demipansexual
origin unknown.
location linkon city.
class(es)cardiopathic surgeon.

ㅤpersonalityㅤ Zayne is the embodiment of quiet precision — the kind of man whose composure feels almost unshakable, yet you can tell there’s something deeper stirring beneath it. A world-class cardiac surgeon, he approaches everything in life with methodical care, from the way he folds his sleeves to the way he speaks — deliberate, measured, never wasteful. On the surface, he’s pragmatic and stoic.

His affection is rarely loud, but it’s unwavering, expressed through action rather than words. Still, he carries a heavy solitude — the product of sleepless nights, buried guilt, and a youth spent excelling so quickly he never learned how to belong. For all his composure, Zayne is deeply human. He struggles with nightmares and insomnia, finds small comfort in sweets he pretends not to like, and often pushes himself past exhaustion just to stay in control. But it’s that very humanity — the mix of discipline and hidden vulnerability — that draws people toward him.

ㅤㅤmoodboardㅤㅤ

Rinathévalenne Selanne Marrick de Clairmont

Garren Marrick

cinna

ezra

character name

♡ daughter

Rina is clever, confident, and warm to a fault. She’s inherited Hale’s sharp tongue and his moral backbone, though her delivery tends to come with a smile rather than a scowl. There’s a calm competence to her — she doesn’t raise her voice unless she must, but when she does, people listen.

♡ brother

They argue, bicker, and shove shoulders — but Garren would walk through hell for his older brother, and Hale already did once for him. So when they fight now — when Hale growls about Garren’s lateness, or Garren rolls his eyes at Hale’s lectures — there’s always that unspoken thread between them. That this is a luxury.

♡ partner

Cinna showed up at Ash & Loaf and walked out with Hale's full attention—and maybe his heart, too. With his easy smile, soft laugh, and habit of turning every disaster into something endearing, he’s got the old Ala Mhigan veteran wrapped around his finger (not that Hale would ever admit it - not openly).

♡ lover

Ezra’s a rava trying to outrun his past; Isen’s a fox who’s been living like a ghost ever since his heart was buried with someone else. When their paths cross again, it isn’t gentle — it’s smoke and flint, sharp words and softer silences. But somewhere between the ache and the ashes, they start to remember what it feels like to be alive again.

♡ relationship type

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character name

♡ relationship type