#eeeehehe

WOW two posts in one day! I might not have anything for tomorrow then but I want this posted NOW!!!

This is my Saparata design pre Cindercrest, and since I wanna yap a little we gonna put some headcanon on the design.

So he used to wear a veil that covered his eyes partially, just enough to where people can't see his eyes if they aren't too close. Basically only people close to him (doesn't let many get too close) can see his eyes sum like that.

After Flux died he completely covered his eyes with a darker veil and from the rage of his best friend dying his horns, which were ingrown stumps (that he'd get bullied for quite often) shot up in size to be about twice their normal size. They also glow in the dark due to the rapid growth (all the rage converted to 'essence' that got stored in his horns causing them to glow because if they were to grow anymore it'd be dangerous for not only him but others as well).

He definitely keeps some sort of token of remembrance of Flux on him in the form of a pin and a lock of purple hair he sewed into his own.

Never one to do things by halves, Balthier spared no expense to make sure this little rendezvous would be a meaningful one - a hit, even, with the hard-pressed company he managed to coerce into his private chambers. It’s not oft he welcomes just anyone into his ship, but the rugged warrior monk is admittedly a bit of a weakness for the ostentatious sky pirate; his noble upbringing in rigid Archades has left him with a soft spot for the rough-around-the-edges sort of men, the kind that lack the pretense and foofaraw of which the company he had to endure during his more formative years were so fond.

So, when Auron finally did give in to his invitation, pressing though it were with all its purring velvet promise, Balthier made sure it would be worth the man’s while. His cabin upon the Strahl was perfumed with a spicy sort of incense, though only by one stick burning slowly in a corner so not to overwhelm the senses, and several magicite lanterns with their raw cuts of stone glowed in the corners, enveloping his bedroom in a soft warmth. Balthier stood at the foot of his bed and admired the guest upon it - Auron was stretched along the length of it, quiet as per usual, and Balthier admired the rise and fall of shadows along the musculature of his back as he breathed slowly, in and out.

Balthier keeps his voice soft, though never without the raw vevlet undertone, and he holds a phial of oil in his hands. “About time you took me up on my generous offer, Sir Auron,” Balthier’s voice is a sinuous swirl matching the lazily curling incense, and he continues to openly stare at the expanse of the man’s skin. “All things considered I’d say this rendezvous is rather overdue.”