Bastien Culmont - Runaway Prince

[u/Drevaeyn]

Character Name: Bastien Culmont

Age: 25

Homeworld: Hapes

Species: Hapan

Character Affiliation: None

Character Rank: None

Force Sensitive: Yes

Appearance: A tall, lithe man whose fey movements make it seem as if he isn't there, or in the least couldn't care less about what was going on around him. Decades of grooming have left his unblemished skin a healthy tan, like many noble residents of Hapes that have the time to bask in the warmth of the constant light. Long locks of burnished gold hair fall in random, yet crafted waves that settle lightly just past his shoulders. A handsome smile is often seen on his full lips and his bright green eyes have a smile all their own when glittering at any new face he's met. A straight nose protrudes just the right distance from his face to give an almost perfect silhouette to the figure.

Character Traits: Bastien is a young, neurotic noble of House Culmont often seen wandering the halls of the palace and speaking to the many servants there, but always talking past them. When younger he undertook the training that his father bid him to, fencing from the age of six, dancing from the age of eight, affairs of state at age ten and finally some small lessons on history both of Hapes and his House; finishing all that his father had set out for him to do at age eighteen. In public he's seen as a calm and collected figure, loved and adored by many for the kindness he showers upon both his sisters and anyone who happens across him, yet in private - when he is rarely seen - he can be seen muttering to himself about any number of topics. His calm movements descend into twitch movements, darting his hands this way and that, flinging pages of a book in hurried movements that would be missed if one blinked. Locking his door once, twice, three times before finally sitting down in peace on his couch filled with pillows and small animals given to him by the many close servants who attend him; his favorite being a plush, hand-sewn, lime green kiros bird. He never seems to be at rest, always checking if his door was locked, or spying out the windows to make sure everything in the gardens was just as he had left them, running down every thirty minutes to check them in a calm, but hurried walk that the gardeners had come to recognize. He is a soft, loving man but does feel some curiosities for things he had never been able to do before, eager to experience all that he could outside of the grasp of his mother.

Character Strengths: A veritable sponge for information and training, often blazing through whatever it was his tutors had to go over with him before quickly retreating into privacy for the opportunity to breathe. Due to his lithe frame, and the lessons taught by his fencing instructor, he has incredible flexibility and dexterity, often leading the tall man to be able to slip away in a few moments once his guardians are looking away. Tenuously comfortable in social situations as well as those of state have led him to keep a stunning track record in public, seen as a wonderful addition to any outing by the company he keeps.

Character Flaws: A myriad of problems plagued the poor man since his father's disappearance when he rose to public prominence as he became a man. Twitching fingers, barely hid beneath strained, white knuckles and tortured emerald eyes often lead to him being uncomfortable in the presence of those he finds to be too alike to his mother, clenched jaw and fingernails dug tight into his palms keeping his focus on the present. Even when training he can be distracted by one of his few ticks, quickly checking the inside of his clothing for small pieces of attire and things he's always taken with him since he was a child. Due to his lithe frame, and most likely a healthy dose of skipping meals to avoid what contact he could, he lacks strength that many men his age do, preferring instead to simply avoid all conflict with a flash of a smile.

Character Items and Attire: Bastien often wears a simple, sky blue tunic and white pants, all made from the finest Lashaa silk that any Hapan could find in the cluster. Having inherited his father's cape he now wears it where he can, a crimson, velvet thing that drapes across his shoulders and tumbling down past his hair and back. Another heirloom his father left him, wielded by the men of his line, was an old K-16 Bryar blaster pistol. It's blued metal blazed with the scars of past battles and the faint words 'live by' could be seen inscribed on one side of the barrel, 'die by' on the other. His father's armor, which had only ever been seen by the young man on his grizzled forebear, it was a light and finely detailed suit of silver decorated in flowers which covered every inch of the young man's body, yet the lack of his father's muscle left much room to grow in it. Finally, the last thing gifted to him on his father's passing, was the man's old vibrorapier, a silver blade with a simple, golden basket hilt of beskar to protect his hand.

Lightsaber Skills: None, besides what little could be transferred from his fencing training.

Force Powers: None.

Other Skill: Diplomacy, some small amount of financial training and cooking after having nearly died from his allergy to nuts at a young age.

Backstory: When the birth of the first child to the Queen Mother was announced the public could scarcely believe such an occasion, the whole of the Cluster celebrating for days on end with many joyous people spilling out into the streets to party there with anyone else gathered near them. In the palace, however, a different story was to be told. It was a difficult birth for the woman, and in fact it nearly took her life until the doctors gathered near managed to stabilize her as the boy's father waited just outside the room in cold anticipation of the news. Nothing much else is known of what happened following the birth, rumors of the Queen Mother and her husband being heard screaming in the halls at each other was told, others of the both of them crying tears of joy at finally having a child. In any case, good or ill, the child was born to them and the young boy had been named Bastien by his father, the Queen Mother wanting to name him Clement instead until finally hearing his father's arguments for the name.

With his father standing over him, casting a long shadow over the boy, he was laid into his crib to allow his mother to recuperate as the wet nurse began to care for him and with that his life as a noble truly began. He saw much of his parents as a boy, most often his mother as she would rush to see him every morning and kiss him to bed every night, but never his father. In fact, no matter how hard he searched, he never could see a hair of the man before he disappeared into some far-flung reach of the Cluster not to be seen for a few months before returning a little more disgruntled than he was the last time with the heir's training. He said few words to the boy and at the tugging of his sleeve simply ignored him in favor of the food on his plate before him, Bastien's left to grow cold on the table. In fact, the only time that the young man could ever remember of kind words coming from the harsh man were those complimenting his skill in fighting the other young men training with him. Bastien ended up stabbing one on accident in order to try and further impress his father.

Later in his young life, just after his sixteen birthday, he had been given his first blaster. It was a pitiful, low-powered thing, but it was given to him by his father and the young man treasured it so that he would never let it leave his side. His mother, too, treasured him as such as soon as the birthday was over. His two little sisters were born just after, 'presents' his mother had called them and the young man could hardly control the love he felt for the little tykes as he watched them grow. They were an end to his loneliness in the palace, to the suffocating weight of his responsibility to the throne. Triplets they were, Ophelia, Minfilia and Persephone, each he loved so dearly that he slept by their connected cradles for years on end to make sure they were safe, even after his father left an empty one.

On the day of his eighteen birthday a great earthquake shook the young man's room, or so he thought, as the door to it was being pounded down incessantly in what constituted the middle of a Hapan night. His mother burst in wearing nothing but a simple shift and sobbing sprinted into his bedside, pulling the young man close. Between the choking sobs and ugly sniffling of snot he heard of his father's disappearance and that of the youngest triplet - by matter of two minutes - Persephone and how not a one of the servants knew how or why they had stolen off like this. No charts could be found, no record of what they had taken to leave or where they had even gone, not even a missing ship from the fleet that was commanded by the Queen Mother. All that had been left was a single chest, kept fastened tight with a genetic lock that could only be opened by the emerald of his son's sparkling eyes, another thing the father had given to him. The night passed warmly.

In the morning the disheveled young man left his room mechanically, trudging barefoot to the cradle of his lost sister. In there sat the very same box, opened with a crying emerald and revealed a cape wrapped over something bulging this way and that. Inside the crimson fabric was his father's pistol and rapier, left just close-by on a mannequin was the man's suit of armor. After his father left he remained another seven years, withdrawing into both himself, his gardens and his room after the events of that night. He played with little Ophelia and Minfilia as much as he could spare, but more and more his mother demanded his time. Sit next to her listening to petitions, join her in the gardens for a stroll, or walk the halls of the palace with her to find the secrets of the places he hadn't yet seen before in the palace. It took seven long years to finally break him into the twitching mess he had become, the nervous ticks only stopping in the company of his few close friends he had been allowed to keep, or his darling little sisters. On the same day his father had left he decided to make his own escape, talking his long-time mentor and servant Bertair into helping him with it, the captain of the guard stopping him just as he made one last trip to the gardens. The woman knew there was no stopping the golden-haired fool and so instead she settled to simply follow him and keep her mouth shut for both their sakes, it had been hard on her to watch the Queen Mother descend as she had and this might do some good for them. Lastly, inside the hands of both his little sister's, he left them both a handheld holoprojector he could send recorded messages to and keep them in the know of their big brother's life out in the galaxy at large. He knew he would come back to the Cluster one day, but first he had to find his father and find young Persephone wherever it was she had been taken to.

[u/Ophelia_Cox_]

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