Revision as of 11:51, 19 July 2013

History

Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III was born into gold-gilded, richly extravagant, silver-spoon-in-mouth hell. His parents, being entirely concerned with promoting the status of the Mimsy family, raised their four children to be impeccably well-mannered, clean, and disciplined. They paid special care to the tutoring of their eldest, who unfortunately happened to be Eric himself. For the first dozen or so years of his life, he went along with their demands on his youth in a desperate bid for their approval, learning every skill they threw at him no matter how much it dragged on his soul. He showed some small promise in the art of Black Magic at a young age, and his parents insisted on him learning from a master. Although he was at that point exhausted from the extensive studies he was already undertaking, he relented to their wishes, but he took to Black Magic very quickly and began studying it out of sheer enjoyment rather than obligation. When he was twelve years old, he and his siblings were taken to a party at the royal palace, where he was presented to His Royal Highness, The King of Burmecia. Eric, feeling understandably nervous, immediately asked where the bathrooms were as he felt like being ill. Although his parents acted in good spirits and humor for the rest of the party, once they got him home they let him know just how disgusted they were with words that burned his ears to hear. His brothers watched on with haughty looks on their faces, while his sister merely stared at the floor.

From then on, his parents treated him with indifference regardless of how well he did, while their expectations and hopes shifted to his brothers, since his sister was the youngest and they were a set of twins. Eric’s tutelage in Black Magic officially stopped there, but since he couldn’t bring himself to let go of the one thing aside from his parents’ approval that made him happy he studied in private, taking to the streets to practice his more rambunctious magic. It was there he gathered a following of admirers – children who had never seen displays of elemental magic before came to watch the young noble who could make fire dance between his palms. He basked in their admiration, coming up with increasingly spectacular tricks to impress them. Right up until he accidently set fire to one of the market stands. He’d put it out straight away, but it had burned so large so fast that all of the merchandise on display had been destroyed and the stand scorched black, so his parents were informed of the damages by the city guard. Even more admonishments were rained on his head for his carelessness and, more important to them, his fraternization with commoners. He was told never to associate with commoners again, to which he promised, since his audience had all either fled, ratted him out, or glared at him in hatred. He figured they thought he’d done it on purpose, and with the rumors flying around his thinking was only confirmed. But they were just rumors – his parents easily stomped out the blight on their name, and no charges had been brought forth.

Eric spent years afterward trying to be as unnoticeable and unobstructive to the glory of the Mimsy name as he could. Then, almost two years ago, his resolve on this snapped. The reasons for this were quieted, but the resulting row had Eric packing his bags and taking off to Lindblum on an airship. He spent a year building a small business there – a store which specialized in interior décor – before coming back to try his luck in Burmecia. He’d been walking out of the merchant’s district, having just purchased some merchandise he hoped to sell in his new store and furnishings for his possible new home, when the first explosion in the Alexandrian attack occurred. He does not recall what happened next, but he was whisked out of his world through darkness and deposited into this one with battered clothes cloaked in the smell of ash, one seriously bad headache, and his magic mysteriously sputtering on empty.

Personality

The first thing one should realize about Eric is that, for all his appearance of classiness, he is foremost an imp and a trickster. He is rather indiscriminate in this fact – whether you’re friend or foe, rich or poor, powerful or weak, he will almost always be finding some way to push one’s buttons or test the limits of one’s patience. He’s seldom entirely direct or honest about anything, playing his cards close to his chest while letting others assume what they want about him. He also very, very, very much likes to show off, especially with his magic. In fact, he has thus far used his Black Magic more often for entertainment and convenience than for actual combat, to the point that any decent Black Mage should probably smack him. It appears his goal in life right now is mostly to have fun.

In all honesty, Eric would like to have a friend and be a good person, but he views himself as inadequate in both regards and uses his flippant, careless façade to keep others from expecting anything of him. Or perhaps it’s a test to see who’s putting up with him for potential money or self-gain, who’s got the patience to deal with him, and who genuinely wants to stick around in spite of his behavior. He actually rather admires those who possess virtues he finds himself lacking, even while he’s teasing them to within an inch of their patience. Although he has been a merchant for almost a year now, he has a peculiar habit of sometimes goading shopkeepers into charging him higher prices, and as strange as it sounds this actually is on purpose – he typically does this when he feels a merchant or craftsman is cheating themselves out of what they and their merchandise are worth. If he can’t be successful in convincing the craftsman that he’s an evil, pompous noble who needs to be overcharged, his typical strategy is to give the merchant more money than was charged and leave in a huff before they can say anything. When push comes to shove, he will come to the aid of those that he would consider friend or those he recognizes as deserving of and needing defending, even complete strangers. He just tries as hard as possible to pretend he’s only helping because he just feels like it, putting on a devil-may-care attitude even as his heart pounds in gibbering terror.

Logs

Cutscenes