(gas-TAWN | de-Ah-ven-ahnt)
Possibly derived from the Germanic element Gast meaning "stranger, guest".

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To say Gaston d'Avenant is gallant would almost be an insult to the stallion's stature. He is broad of shoulder, strong in his hindquarters and legs, with a thick strong neck. With a face that seems to hail from Iberian lines, his handsome visage could have been carved by angels from black marble. Muscle is heavily wrought over his sturdy frame, making him as strong and ferocious as the heroes of the legendary fairytales of old. Scars litter his raven pelt, but do little to detract from his attractiveness - if anything, the scars seem to make him even more handsome and rugged.

Gaston's eyes are a burning ruby; the color easily searing into one's soul like flames of a wildfire or the blood of one's enemy on the battlefield. His coat is of the deepest black, never bleaching in the sun no matter how long he toils during the day. His black mane hangs long and heavy with cascading waves while the locks curl at the ends. His tail, which is rather lion-like, also bears long wavy black locks of its own. White marks his black hide, almost randomly placed on his chest, back, stomach, and hindquarters. His wings have the barest of white tips. A white snip almost seems purposely placed between Gaston's nostrils.

In general, Gaston is decked in red and gold cloths; the material seems to be draped without much care, but upon closer inspection, one would notice it is held tightly to his frame through a series of knots, twists, golden chains, and a large multi-faceted ruby that sits proudly upon the stallion's chest. The red cloth bears golden trim in some places. Unlike the rest of his outfit, Gaston may or may not be seen with its matching golden faceplate. It's a toss-up to see whether Gaston is wearing it or not. When he is, he looks just like how one would picture a knight - resplendent in reds and golds, with his ruby-encrusted faceplate.

"It's a good thing I am who I am. I'd have been useless at anything else."

moodboard | gallery
Scent: charcoal, firewood, spice
Voice Claim: Jaime Lannister

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Sarcastic | Proud | Cool | Empathetic | Passionate

Cavalier | Amoral | Contemptuous | Twisted Sense of Honor | Apathetic Towards Violence

Gaston is complex. At first glance, many will see him as a sarcastic, rather cold stallion who is arrogant and disdainful. However, his arrogance and pride are deeply rooted in his own abilities as a soldier and are not without cause. He takes great pride in his fighting abilities and strategic skills; few in his homelands could boast of half of his achievements. Gaston does not mock others with minor insults as he sees it beneath him to stoop to such a level. His arrogance can be tempered to cold, impersonal politeness if called upon, but he is usually very blunt. Gaston typically just says what he is thinking, and has no reservations about mocking those he perceives as incompetent.

To some, Gaston's morals are skewed; to which they are, if one looks at his morals in the traditional sense. He has little concern for those who might think of him as evil for the things he has done or believes in. To Gaston, beings of pure "evil" or "good" do not exist. He sees violence as a means to an end, but needless violence and brutality is to be avoided at all cost. However, if he decides that violence and murder are absolutely necessary Gaston will ruthlessly carry it out himself without any reservations. Despite such, Gaston has some respect for the rules of engagement - he would never attack an opponent unfairly distracted or otherwise incapacitated. Some may say that the stallion has no honor, given his violent and ruthless behavior, but some sense of honor is there...it's just his own brand of honor and morality. Gaston respects his enemies to some extent if he thinks them worthy of such. Yet, he does not go about advertising it.

After all, it would ruin his bad-boy image.

One of the most noticeable traits Gaston bears is his complete lack of political drive. He has no aspirations to climb the political ladder, to topple a king for his kingdom, or even to rule the lands that were his by ancestral right. He would prefer to fight all day, rather than sit on a throne and be idle. He dislikes idleness; first and foremost a soldier at heart, Gaston is restless when not in combat or of some kind of use.

Underneath it all is the lost little boy he once was. Passion runs hot and fierce in his veins but is often tempered by his cool nature. Rarely does the fire flicker through and it is best to stay out of his way when it does. A trickle of empathy tickles his heart once in a blue moon. The feeling is foreign to Gaston, and he does his best to squash it. Feelings are for the weak, or so he was raised to believe. To feel is to leave a weakness for others to exploit.

"You were his first choice. You're the golden son!
You could kill a king, lose a sword, lose a war,
but you'll always be the golden son!"

[ THE BEGINNING ]

Gaston was the firstborn - and only - son of the Lord Toulouse d'Avenant and his wife, the lovely Rohese Dumaine. Gaston's birth had been a nasty affair, leaving the young and beautiful Lady Rohese infertile afterward. But his lord father didn't care, for he had a healthy and strong son to secure his line with. Born into one of the richest families, the heir of Montegut had everything at his disposal. The best scholars, the best trainers, the best equipment; anything Gaston's heart desired was his.

His own youth was hardly an obstacle to his drive to greatness. He was barely more than a mere boy when he was knighted as Sir Gaston, heir to Montegut, bringing pride and fame to his father's household. Despite Lord Toulouse's incessant pushing for Gaston to want more, to strive for more, the young stallion was content to fight in tournaments and in wars, winning the hearts of fair ladies and battles alike. Despite his lack of political ambition, Gaston made a name for himself on the battlefield. The handsome, rugged heir was the focal point for many songs and poems, no matter where he went to.

But he was far from the golden child his father had tried to mold him into. Gaston ran by his own code of ethics, did what he pleased, and held little affection for courtly affairs. He always seemed to draw his sire's ire, only to cool it with empty promises. It almost seemed to be a game to Gaston, to see how far he could push Toulouse - until he pushed his sire too far. One particularly chilly morning, Gaston was brought to his sire's study under a vague pretense. Without any preamble, Toulouse told his son he was promised to a well-to-do heiress and he would do it for the sake of the family. The lady, a fair maid named Apolline, had political ties that would help strengthen their family and Toulouse's dreams of usurping the current king.

It was the metaphorical straw that broke Gaston's back.

He bore the news with polite, but impartial, joy while he desperately tried to scheme for a way to escape. To be a politician - a king, if his sire had his way - was never Gaston's dream. To be in a loveless marriage was even worse. He couldn't do that to himself, (. (Or to the Lady Apolline, though he'd never admit to it.) In his darkest hour, he sought the comfort of his sickly mother. Life had been cruel to Rohese, and knowing her time was coming to an end, she arranged for her son to flee Montegut in the night. Having always been Gaston's secret keeper, and knowing her son's dreams, she swore to set him free if he promised to find happiness one day. And he did.

The night he fled, his mother died. Gaston suspected she likely poisoned herself, both to put herself out of misery and to give Gaston sufficient enough distraction to escape their castle without anyone noticing. Most would assume he would be grieving in his chambers since he was so dearly attached to Rohese. By the time a maid was sent to check his rooms, Gaston had already fled halfway across the country.

Away from politics and schemes, Gaston worked as a mercenary to appease his desires to be a soldier. Fighting and gambling his way through kingdoms, (and even committing regicide once, but for valid reasons, okay?), the pegasus stallion found himself drawn far, far away from home. Years flew by and he grew from a young stallion and into a hardened soul who had seen too much. Somehow, Gaston finds his way into new lands that were called Caeleste. He took up a life of a wanderer like he had done many times before, traveling from one land to the next. One fateful night changed everything, though - the night he happened upon Io Kairavi at the beach. Somehow, despite the odds, the two became swift friends and often rendezvoused at the beach. Io convinced Gaston to join the kingdom she called home, and he found it hard not to give in to the mare's wishes. It is then he knew he was in trouble. Never had a mare swayed his decisions so much, not since his own mother was alive. As time passed he found that Io had taken up residence in his heart in no way any mare has ever had. Fear of emotions nearly drove him away, but he found himself remaining at Io's side when a new queen took power and Io threw herself into politics once more. He could never leave her, he realized, even if she never returned his affections. And oddly...Gaston found himself alright with that.

But fate had different ideas. The tension sat heavily on the two before finally breaking at a masquerade ball. Realizing that creatures like him never got so lucky, he agreed to follow along with Io's plans to leave Caeleste. Deep in his bones, Gaston knew he would have followed her to the ends of the earth - lover or not. They exited Caeleste together and found their path leading them to faraway lands. They found Fimbulvetr, but the magic in the valley tore Gaston and Io apart. It allowed Gaston in but magicked Io away to unknown realms. Heartbroken and alone, the pegasus toiled to find a way back to her. Whispers told him that she had returned to Caeleste, though her fate after that remained unknown.

Broken and alone, Gaston turned his back on the world. He reverted back to many of his "old" ways by re-embracing the life of a mercenary and keeping others at a distance. The money and his travels eventually lead him back to Caeleste, though what is yet to come remains unseen.

[NOVUS ]

Gaston returned to Caeleste bitter and angry, heartbroken but determined to not let it rule him.

None.

None.

None.

Draped in red and gold cloths; the material is held tightly to his frame through a series of knots, twists, golden chains, and a large multi-faceted ruby that sits proudly upon the stallion's chest. Paired with his outfit is a matching golden faceplate encrusted with rubies.

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