[hider=Kajin Najin]
[color=f49ac2][SUB][U]ＮＡＭＥ[/U][/SUB][/color]
Kakajin Nanajin (Goes by Kajin Najin in the presence of non-dunesfolk)

[color=f49ac2][SUB][U]ＲＡＣＥ[/U][/SUB][/color]
Lalafell

[color=f49ac2][SUB][U]ＣＬＡＮ[/U][/SUB][/color]
Dunesfolk

[color=f49ac2][SUB][U]ＢＩＲＴＨＰＬＡＣＥ[/U][/SUB][/color]
Drybone, Thanalan

[color=f49ac2][SUB][U]ＯＣＣＵＰＡＴＩＯＮ[/U][/SUB][/color]
Member of Azyema’s Eyes

[color=f49ac2][SUB][U]ＳＯＵＬ ＣＲＹＳＴＡＬ[/U][/SUB][/color]
Black Mage

[color=f49ac2][SUB][U]ＡＰＰＥＡＲＡＮＣＥ[/U][/SUB][/color]
Kajin stands at a fun sized 2' 10", the runt of the family, though he carries himself as if he was five times taller. Vibrant long pink hair with shocks of white make him stand out against the dark golds, greys, and blacks of the city. His eyes match his hair and he wears a jewel in the middle of his forehead to signify his zodiac in accordance to dunesfolk tradition. He wears loose breathable robes, all with a simple two tone color scheme. He isn't one for fashion and sometimes wears a simple tunic and breech combo if he plans to spend the day relaxing. He does enjoy braiding flowers in his hair when he doesn't have it pulled back in a bun.

His staff however is a matter of pride. In accordance to the traditions of his family, he was gifted a staff when he came of age. Created with meticulously carved voidsent bones-horns of a gargoyle topping a bone from an ogre-and set with a tiny and an Eye of Fire, every part of it is meant to draw aether in with efficiency. Kajin's family passes down the technique from generation to generation and each of his siblings carries one (with the exception of Shishijin) with a different elemental eye. 


[color=f49ac2][SUB][U]ＰＥＲＳＯＮＡＬＩＴＹ[/U][/SUB][/color]
(Screen shots WIP)
Kajin is ambitious and creative, always thinking about the next step, the next challenge. He doesn’t understand the concept of shame, just as likely to burn his obstacles away and storm through the ashes with lightning and ice as he is to break down and cry until someone feels enough pity to help him or awkward enough to get out of his way. His obsession with aetherology often leads him to libraries and studies at al hours of the night and if given the opportunity, will work himself without food or sleep for as long as possible. 

Despite his passion driven obsession, the first thing that always comes first is family. Once he has accepted someone as his own, they’re stuck with him for life. He is clearly the youngest of his own flesh and blood but his annoyance is outstripped by his protectiveness, barely needing a reason to bring down the full wrath of his arcane might against whoever slighted his kin. Unfortunately that brings with it a minor abandonment complex, ready to blow something up if his kin vanishes without giving him time to emotionally prepare.

[color=f49ac2][SUB][U]ＢＩＯＧＲＡＰＨＹ[/U][/SUB][/color]
[hider=Biography]Before the Calamity, the Golden Bazaar dominated Eastern Thanalan as the primary stopping point between Ul’dah and Gridanna for those without airship permits. A bustling town of merchants, locals and transients, the small hamlet provided anything a traveling caravan could need, from a place to rest your head to chocobo feed to repair services to a touch of entertainment for the oft encouraged longer stays. Anything that happened in the least acrid region of Thanalan was often launched out of this gathering place and housed nearly all the regions local’s, including the members of the Church of Saint Adama Landama who maintained one of Thanalan’s largest lichyards. 

Unfortunately, the lichyard’s size became an unexpected problem. The few ponds that the settlement housing the lichyard derived its name from were at risk of contamination from the rotting corpses of those interred due to the heavy rainfall the region tended to experience. Poor organization and insufficient field research put early graves, and thus newer ones that spiraled out from the originals, too close to the water source and the rains recent began bringing some of the sealed diseases in the region’s primary drinking sources. In a bid to correct their mistake in the most cost efficient manner, the Church reached out to the Order of Nald’thal for training in their funeral rituals that should cleanse the bodies of their impurities. 

The Order refused. Mumuepo, leader of the Thaumaturge’s guild at the time, threw out the request because a lack of donations to Thal’s church, despite the lichyard demanding the entirety of the Church’s resources. In a panic, the church reached out to anyone willing to help and they received it from an unexpected place.  

Kikisuki Lelesuki answered the call, an aetherically advanced thaumaturge whose lineage could be traced back to before the fall of Sil’dah. Her family roamed the Thanalan desert, wandering on the backs of adamantoises, and used their ancient traditions of black magic and thaumaturgy to help those who struggle to help themselves. Kikisuki arrived shortly after the Order’s denial and taught several members of the Church the foundations of Thaumaturgy, helping them purge the afflicted corpses with fire and ice and lightning. Fofojin Sisijin, a gravedigger Kikisuki selected due to naturally elevated aetheric reserves, fell in love with the wandering thaumaturge and courted her for nearly two years before she returned his feelings. 

The pair ended up giving birth to four children, two girls and two boys, most with the Lelesuki’s natural inclination for aetherial manipulation and their father’s high aetheric reserves. His older sisters, Lilijin and Shishijin, twins and the oldest siblings, followed closely by Papajin and then finally himself. Lilijin commanded the family’s natural magical prowess, honing her abilities under her mother’s tutelage and eventually leaving Drybones to join the extended Lelesuki clan’s wandering mission. Shishijin unfortunately was born with abnormally low aetheric reserves, unable to safety cast even basic thaumaturgy spells without putting herself in harm’s way, but after a troublesome teenage spell of bitter resentment, Shishijin joined their father at the Church of Saint Adama Landama and helps prepare offerings on behalf of those with no one to remember them. Papajin loathed the Gold Bazaar and abandoned it as soon as he was able. He joined the Order of Nald’thal, welcomed in with open arms due to his easy command of the thaumaturgical arts. 

Kajin was the youngest and clearly had minor attachment issues. As a young child, he would follow his siblings and parents around feverently, throwing a tantrum if the current object of his attention stepped out of eye sight for even a second. He never seemed to favor one family member over another but his need for familial affection did stunt his social growth, always staying away from his peers if a family member was present. It persisted as he grew older, scorch marks on the wall when he found out Lilijin was striking out on her own. The family still teases him for it but if not for their mother’s timely intervention, Kajin probably would have burned down their home. 

Like his brother and older sister, Kajin inherited his family’s aptitude for magical mayhem but took it further than his siblings. Where as they wielded it as a tool, as something to be used when necessary, Kajin loved magic. He loved the feeling of coaxing form from aether and sending it flying in an explosion of pure will. He hung desperately to his mother’s lessons, always begging for more, pushing his limits as far as they go, and as he got older, started his own experimentation into the arts. If anyone as much as whispered the word aether, Kajin would be there, spouting ideas and concepts before anyone realized what mishap they’d brought on themselves.

The Calamity struck just after Papajin struck off on his own, Kajin’s clinginess once again resulting in an irritable outburst of fire and lightning but this time [i]outside[/i] of the home. The extended family scurried around the desert for days, putting down raging sprites and creatures whipped into a frenzy by the horrific events that threatened the safety of the people of Thanalan. Kajin, his parents, and Shishijin watched as the Burning Wall practically exploded with malformed aether and the world burned before them. Many suns passed as they put out fire after fire in Eastern Thanalan, each one burning with Bahamaut's unusually concentrated aether. They rotated, exposure to the intense aether sicking them, as the smothered them with ice and dispersed the aether as best they could.

Two years passed with no word from Papajin. Lilijin made sure to check in afterwards but hurried back with their grandmother. The rest were so busy with the increased dead that it wasn’t until Kajin made the effort to go to Ul’dah and practically break down the Order’s door that he discovered Azyma’s Eyes, an organization dedicated to quelling the turbulent aether and creating safe guards to prevent such widespread devastation from happening again. His brother was at the helm of Ul’dah’s chapter, practically drowning in work. Not that that stopped Kajin from crying in front of his colleagues, to remind him he had [i]a family who was worried sick[/i] of course, and then he demanded he be involved. It took nearly six moons and a handful of bells to get Papajin to accept his help, not to mention several letters begging their parents to help because Kajin has no shame, but he eagerly entered the Eyes with full expectations that he’d get to do something useful. 

Instead, Papajin stuck him on desk duty and adamantly refused to change his assignment. Not that it stopped the Lalafell from struggling against the [i]tyranny[/i] of his elder sibling.[/hider]

[color=f49ac2][SUB][U]ＯＴＨＥＲ[/U][/SUB][/color]
Favorite Dish: Spaghetti Pescatore served at the Silver Bazaar

Hates the term "Black Mage" because of the connotations it carries. His family practices "Aertherically Advanced Thaumaturgy" and has the proper documentation to prove it as required by the Eorzean Alliance.

[color=f49ac2][SUB][U]ＲＥＡＳＯＮ ＦＯＲ ＥＮＬＩＳＴＭＥＮＴ[/U][/SUB][/color]
[hider=Too real]The sun burned low against the city skyline. Crowds seemed to swell as the dry Thanalan heat diffused into the cooling air and a dull roar rang through the city as her nightlife emerged to enjoy the encroaching darkness, the screams and shouting of the coliseum swelling to a crescendo as steel met steel on the blood sands. For all it’s glitter and gold in the midday sun, Ul’dah truly came alive at night, her people slipping out from their shadowy oases as dancers, musicians, and entertainment prowled the streets, eyes set on the heavy pockets of the wealthy citizenry. Gil and wine flowed freely in the city, any pleasure available to those with pockets deep enough to forget their troubles, even if only for the night. 

Kajin made his way down Ul’dah’s sandy cobblestones, books piled high as he balanced his staff on the top. He could barely see around the few tomes, each one weighing with carefully transcribed reports on the aetheric movements of every major section of the massive Thanalan desert. His wrist still ached with the last few quill strokes, eyes blurry as he and several other members of the Eyes made copies to send out to the Conjurers and Arcanist guild for safe keeping and comparative analysis. His arms burned with the weight, the dedicated space for Azyma’s Eyes far too far away for a lalafell like himself. Barely brushing three feet tall, more than two of these books stacked on top of each other block his vision and three made his arms burn but here he was, one in a bag and three stacked high. The things he did for this twelves damned group.

Five years have already passed since the calamity brought the world to its knees. His older brother, a member of the Order of Nald’Thal, helped spearhead a collaborative effort between the various magic guilds in an attempt to alleviate the strain placed on the resource starved grand companies and tackle another imposing problem. With the aetheric currents thrown into complete disarray, Azyma’s Eyes rose to watch and prevent further aetheric disruption through its methods of observation, notation, and reaction. Reports poured in over the years, compiled into tomes and sent out across the city states for comparison as the aether settled enough to permit safe teleportation again. Various members were now moving forward to develop safeguards against such events, including theorizing various ways to counter balance severe aetheric disruptions in the event of approaching umbral calamities. 

And his own brother relegated him to [i]desk duty[/i]!

Admittedly, calling him a shite-face, swill-sodden pile of goobbue vomit was a bit unnecessary but Papajin using his authority to crush his own sibling’s ideas was an entirely different matter! It was abuse through and through and even whining at his parents hadn’t fixed the problem. The world needed people attuned to the aether right now. Teaching more magically experienced people would solve that. After all, it wasn’t like advanced thaumaturgy was [i]all[/i] about destruction. Well, it was but it wouldn’t be possible without the intricate process of aetherial manipulation! And that was what advanced thaumaturgy was about. Moving and converting aether from one form into another!

And there were so so many possibilities! Imagine what carefully calculated aetheric conversion could accomplish and then apply that directly to a rapid decomposition of elemental crystals across a general locale and then what couldn’t they accomplish! Of course, there were some problems with that but what idea didn’t have problems at the beginning? He got excited again just considering the possibilities, the books threatening to topple as he practically vibrated but reality came settling in far too quickly. His suggestion had been cast aside, his plans torn to shreds, and his brother punished him with a dead end desk job copying pages as long as he stayed with the Eyes. The monotony of it all was starting to wear him thin, his passion for aetherology crushed beneath the weight of scribe work. 

He blinked and suddenly he was on the cobblestones, blinking as a dull pain exploded in the back of his head. A pair of children sped past him, barely noticing the stranger they’d knocked over. He grabbed his staff, a present from his grandmother when they decided to induct him into the family traditions, and picked himself up with a groan. He felt the irritation inside him rise only to bubble back down, too tired from the mind numbing drudgery to care that much, and he passed through the Quicksand to retire to his company funded room. He’d set out on the morrow to home and send his portion forward with a porter to the Black Shroud once he arrived. 

He ducked into the tavern doubling as the adventurer’s guild as a Roegadyn nearly shut the door on him. It was a full house tonight, weary travelers and adrenaline high adventurers making merry as was their wont. He could see Momodi cheerily welcoming another group, blood still splattered on their armor from whatever grand adventure they’d returned from, another tale tucked neatly into their belt and a healthy pile of gil to return their good will. He felt the yearning for that kind of freedom pull at his heart, the freedom to do what he wanted without his family crushing his aspirations, but now he barely had the energy to work on his theories. Wake up, work, go to bed, rinse and repeat. He sighed and side stepped a tossed tankard. 

[color=00aeef]“Oye, goobbue feed, fetch that for me!”[/color] The same Roegadyn that nearly crushed him in the door shouted at him and Kajin sent a half hearted glare and continued on his way until his books were, [i]again[/i], knocked out of his hands.

[color=00aeef]“You hard o’ hearing, midget? I said pick. It. up.”[/color] The Roedgadyn growled. Kajin picked up his staff instead, the anger from earlier raising its head and curling hot in his belly. Lalafell discrimination was fairly common, the Syndacte and money grubbing Plainsfolk merchants to thank for that, but open confrontation was still rare. Most people had the common sense to realize were the [i]perfect[/i] height for the worst type of attack. As he picked up his staff, the screech of a sword drawn drew his attention and he saw the shadow of the blade coming down on him. 

It was reflex at this point. The first spell any [i]aetherically advanced thaumaturge[/i] worth their staff mastered. The sword crashed against the barrier of hardened aether Kajin wove with the ease of experience. Just a simple flick of the wrist and the aether would follow, rushing to fill the void the movement created. Kajin sneered at the [color=00aeef]“Bloody mages”[/color] the brute muttered and the sword swung back. A muttered incantation followed it and Kajin sent a spark of lightning straight into his crotch with a satisfied smirk. The crack of thunder following it silenced the tavern, the clatter of the sword as it fell from the Roegadyn’s hand reverberating through the open space. The gladiator’s mouth dropped and for a moment he was silent until he howled and rolled on the floor, hands over his sensitive genitals. Kajin marched over, fire in his eyes, and he caught a stray strand of lightning aether in his staff, his staff crackling with lighting as it hovered over the brute’s throat

[color=FB9AFC]“Next time, I’ll make sure even the Pajal’s can’t save your little sand gecko.”[/color] The Lalafell snapped, bringing the staff up and slamming it back down with all his strength. The Roegadyn shut his eyes with a whimper, hands still protecting his sensitive nethers, but Kajin let the aether fade and he paused just above the brute’s nose. The Roegadyn opened his eyes after a few moments to the wicked grin on Kajin’s face and he bopped the gladiator’s nose with a loud [color=FB9AFC]“Boop!”[/color] He turned, staff safely stowed, as he picked up his books once more. Using magic was always an incredible rush, one he didn’t have nearly enough opportunity to indulge in. He righted himself and something caught his eye. A new poster on the wall for a Free Company called “The Blessed Twelve.” As if he was blessed. Blessed with a prick of a brother. He grumbled his entire way up to his room as his good mood crumbled, dropping the books noisily on the desk and unceremoniously hitting the floor. He laid there for a while, just staring at the ceiling.

He could. He’d get to practice his art again. He’d get to actually test his theories without his family’s deraigned limitations constantly pressing down on him. He wanted to [i]help[/i] people, like everyone in his family swore to when they took up the family traditions. Kajin couldn’t help but feel that transcripting aether reports while wasn’t hurting anyone, wasn’t really helping them either. The image of the Blessed Twelve’s crest hung heavy in his mind and he worried his lip for a few more moments. He’d practically be slapping his own brother in the face. Papajin would be furious. The thought made Kajin laugh and he was on his feet in a heartbeat.

He’d never written as quickly as he did in that moment, requesting a transfer. They often encouraged aether sensitives into the company of adventurers. They could evaluate more dangerous areas and performed random checks to verify reports as they moved through the world. His brother held no sway over this part of the Eyes. His only regret was that he wouldn’t get to see Papajin’s face when he walked into the room and discovered Kajin managed to escape his claws.[/hider][/hider]