First Impression
Despite Viktorien's painterly grace, his aura around him stays rather unpleasant. If it is his icy-cold gaze searching around his surroundings, crossed arms or just the constant look of displeasure - only you can tell. Let be known, however, that he acts exactly as he presents himself - if not even worse. This does not mean that the mercenary can't be pleasant.
Personality
A soft misantrophe - he dislikes most, if not all people, yet he goes around endlessly forming weak connections that he abandons soon after they are formed to quench his boredom and fill the gaping void left by the death of his sister. Viktorien is often condescending, arrogant, passive aggressive and sadistic when it comes to the misfortune of others. However, if you manage to pique his interest, he is a loyal ally - almost like an obedient hunting hound - your woulds would be his command.
History of a Lone Star
Viktorien was born and raised in Ishgard to the low-born Fontaine family, he can't remember what they were like - his mother and father. Always preoccupied with scraping the little work that was offered to them to keep their children's mouths somewhat filled to keep them from crying about hunger. Their familial bond was quite and literally non-existent - Viktorien never saw them as his birth-parents, only as strangers he was related to by blood. It did not help that they weren't the most pleasant of people - mother an unstable and hysterical woman meanwhile his father was a raging alcoholic. Or that is what he does recall of them, anyway.
The one person he held dear and that was always there for him was his kin and kith - his older sibling. They looked so alike - almost as twins if she wasn't near ten summers his senior. Both eyes of cerulean and hair darker than the blackest night, with skin adorned generously with moles. She would tell him that Halone, the Fury Herself has drawn constellation on their bodies as a mark of beauty - the thought of her brings back tenderness and comfort, then gut-wrenching realisation that she is forever gone, and the only last memory is of her voice screaming, echoing.
One cold winter night, or was it early spring? Viktorien can only feel the tightening of his throat and the suffocating smoke filling his lungs when reminiscing about that day. There is little he knows, being so young leaves such recollections in a thick fog. Flames that should have brought pleasant warmth only brought scorching heat, nearly whipping his being with its blinding radiance. How he managed to escape so unscathed, or why such an event was brought down upon him - he can't tell. What he can tell, however, is the reason he is still breathing is because of his sister, and that they all had died that night.
A pair of lower noble, strikingly blue Duskwights from the house Lestat adopted him some short time after. Viktorien never understood why him. What about him was so special that they had decided to take care of a spec of filth from the Brume - and a Hyur at that. He always stood out at family gatherings, social events and the like, always silently observing the people around him, how they feasted and laughed, garbed in expensive cloths and furs with little care about how the people lived down underneath them in the Foundation.
They gave him all that he could ever need, showered him with love and compassion while he stayed distant, confused as of why they were treating him as one of his own when he was clearly not. Even as their beloved daughter became their son, they did not mind, he brought them the happiness just by simply being their child. And he still fails to grasp this.
He always preferred to getting his hands filthy from dirt rather than the time-consuming artistry of the family glassmaking business - so when he joined the Temple Knights, it was to no surprise. As much as he enjoyed the freedom of being out in the open, unrestricted by the manners and etiquettes of nobles, the unpleasantness of such different circles caught up on him. His innocence and purity tainted by a fellow mate - one would think these people were lawful and hold themselves to good morals, not be the culprits. Viktorien won't ever forget the pain piercing him in the abdomen, repeatedly stabbing him like a knife. The funny feeling - both physical and emotional turmoil that stirred deep in his core.
The moment Viktorien brought home the title of Knight Dragoon, his family only rejoiced to see their child achieve so much in so little time, even when fear struck their worrying hearts in case they see their son for the last time when they bid him goodbyes as he was sent out to fight against Nidhogg's brood. However his career of a Dragoon was short-lived. since the Warrior of Light drastically changed the course of Ishgardian history, Viktorien retired from his position after a couple of summers, feeling lost and betrayed by his own home. He left for seemingly no reason in the eyes of others, disappearing without a trace for many moons at a time.
Currently
Viktorien never stays in one place for extended periods of time, often jumping through the city-states to avoid any unwanted attention to his work as a sellsword - or to simply keep his head attached on his neck due to a lot of moments of misbehaving.
Short ramble about the character
Guy who hasn't been able to form a meaningful connection (aside from his current partner) since his sister and a “friend” he never talks about. Bro has some issues with substance abuse to cope with everything he's been through. Likes to lead people on by being nice, charming an/or flirting and then fucking them over later for shits and giggles (he's delusional and wants friends, unaware he's lowkey unable to form connections because personality disorder (he will not admit any of this)). He is an unapologetic asshole but he's pookie trust me