I herby certify that I am 18+ years old.

• Yes
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A victim of circumstance...

A child of Ymir descent:

As Viera customs dictate, male-presenting members of their society are to be sent out of the safety of their home to act as Wood-Warders once they come of age. This is well known to be a particularly harsh trial that coincidentally weeds out weaker males...The child was born atop the snowy peaks of the Skatay Range by a mother bearing the Ymir surname. Inherently and also aggravated by complications at birth, they were cursed with a defective immune system and grew underdeveloped. Their mother had known since the moment she held her newborn kit that they were of weaker seed. As the years passed, and the sequela of their birth came to light, she prayed that they would be female, knowing they would not survive as a Wood-Warder...The mother never blamed the father for the state of her child as it was well known that the weaker seed had come from her own egg. She had struggled for many years to bear a child and when fertility was not the issue, her pregnancies all but ended in tragic miscarriage. That said, this newborn would be her first successful attempt at producing life.Now approaching his 13th birthday and coming of age, it had become apparent that her child would be a male. Unable to bear the thought of knowingly sending her only and first child to his death, she decided to hide her son’s sex from the tribe. Perhaps knowing of her intentions, the Gods had blessed her son with gentle, more effeminate features. He had lush eyelashes and rounded facial features all complemented by a smaller waistline and slightly wider hips. Besides lucky physical traits, he’d also grown to bear just as gentle of a personality with a soft-spoken nature. Padding of the chest area, long hair and smart binding of the groin area served to sell the illusion.20 years since birth, the boy lived in peace as a female member of his tribe. Being sickly and less physically capable, he rarely ventured out and mostly took care of teaching the young and helping with cooking or light cleaning. This peaceful life, however, would soon be brought to a close.Leaving out details, unwanted advances during a mating season had brought the boy’s true sex into light. Thankfully, the incident was contained but it was clear that he could no longer be permitted to stay. So, in exchange for the witnesses taking the secret to their graves and preserving, as much as possible, the man’s dignity, a lie was sown of illness claiming his life. Meanwhile, the boy was exiled, disappearing in the silence of the night never to return home, his given name now to be forsaken...

Out of the frying pan, into the fire:

The Veena tribes were rather reclusive but even they could not ignore the advancement of the Garlean empire at the border of their lands. Misinformed, the boy’s mother had instructed him to travel south until he reached a foreign settlement. There, he could reintegrate society where he would hopefully get the care and support he needs. There couldn’t have been a worse place to end up for him than a Garlean military settlement.Having been told to be a lady all his life, it was now time for the man to assume his true sex. He dawned male clothes for the first time and messily cut off his long locks of hair. Now, he had never felt uncomfortable in his female attire and despite having dedicated a lot of time in keeping his beautiful hair in pristine shape, he wasn’t sad to see it go either. In the future, he would come to assert himself as a man and prefer shorter hair styles while still gravitating toward a more effeminate fashion style simply because he finds it prettier.For now, this whole gender swap in combination with losing his family, friends and home land had more than just pulled the rug from under his feet. He was alone, lost, and now had to rebuild his entire identity from scratch in a land that would be foreign to him. Unsure if good fortune was truly at play, after crossing the mountain range, he was taken in by the Garlean military. There he quickly learned that a man's worth was dictated by his military prowess and tactical thinking. As a result, and for the sake of self-preservation, he would come to the conclusion that his physical weaknesses were best kept hidden.There, he would dawn the name of Leon M. Jones with the help of some bunk mates who found his lack of name appalling. Being trained as a soldier and drilled with Garlean propaganda basically attempted to throw everything he was taught out of the window. The culture shock was dizzying and the training gruelling. Thankfully, his Vieran heritage allowed him to keep his head above water despite being considered ‘weaker’ amongst powerful Veenan warriors.Some would assume that, from here, Leon would rise to a certain rank and join the bloody and savage war on conquering the world but he would be privy to yet another twist of fate. He would eventually rise in rank but not quite by the usual path. While his effeminate features and dainty nature had served him well to blend in while growing up in his tribe, the rarity of his race and those same fair features would now have him stand out like a sore thumb when sharing facilities with the other more pent up trigger-happy and war-hungry male warriors of his centuriae. He was described as ‘pretty’ by his peers and more than often looked upon in derogatory ways and even mishandled. The rumours of the presence of a pretty, fair-skinned bunny boy amongst the Galrean ranks climbed its way up the ladder rather swiftly.One day, Leon was plucked from his teammates to serve as a personal bodyguard of one of the "rem" (Pilus prior) of their cohort. There he found more use in the bedroom than on the battlefield. Now degraded to the rank of a glorified side piece, Leon had long forgotten the meaning of freedom or dignity that his lost tribe had once nurtured in him. Leon had fallen into the clutches of the false gratifications of mindless subservience.

The serendipitous Calamity:

His owner had been transferred to join the warring efforts to conquer Eorzea. There, the Calamity struck, killing countless Garlean... including the one he had come to privately serve. In the bloodbath that ensued, surrounded by flames and destruction, his instincts were the only things that pushed him to his feet. He hid from the destruction and, now that his sole purpose for living had been culled, he ran away from the empire into Eorzean territory.Seven years following the day he had knocked on the Garlean Empire’s doors, he’d been liberated from his chains. Despite this, Leon struggled to find purpose and meaning with a mind that had been reprogrammed one too many times. In the five years that followed the calamity, he wandered aimlessly, until reaching the fair city of Ul’dah where he came to be taught yet another reality: your worth is measured by the weight of gil in your pockets.Having learned of his ‘rarity’ and ‘exotic’ nature, Leon very easily found his way to gil hopping from bedroom to bedroom. After the Calamity, his body was the only luxury he had to his name. Making money this way came almost effortlessly to the Viera, however, mentally, it was a different story. He grew to have a profound distrust of people around him, believing in nothing other than himself and the gil he could hold in his hands.To make matters worse, he ended up entrapped by the black market skin trade in which he rotted for the next three years. He was passed around Eorzea from one noble to another, one fancy mansion to the next fancy castles. Some pampered him in an attempt to make themselves feel better about what they were doing to the Viera while others did not feel shame for their darkness. One day however, a kinder Ishgardian owner bought out his freedom. He thought he deserved a better life and was meant for so much more but despite his inspiring words of encouragement, Leon had just thrown back into the streets, released back into the wild. At this point, he'd grown much too familiar with captivity and old habits die hard. Much to his last Ishgardian owner's dismay, he ended up going back to prostitution although somewhat more legitimately by working in escort clubs and, to somewhat honours his last owner's hopes, he did his best to lie low and avoid getting caught up by the black market again.Although he had long but succumbed to the mental damage caused by his life so far, after some few years of meaningless sex, the words of a fellow sex worker had struck something deep within him: “There’s no shame in doin’ what we do. That body, that everyone’s fighting over? It’s yours. Own it proudly. It’s just a job, it doesn’t have to be your life and between you and me... you could use a hobby. Put some life back in those pretty doe eyes of yours.” Leon didn’t have to surrender to his circumstances, he didn’t have to let fate just toss him around however it pleases. He could take charge and better his circumstances as long as the flames of willpower still flickered deep within his soul.Presently, Leon’s now been registered as a wandering adventurer, doing odd jobs here and there and revisiting the battlefield on his own terms. Although he still feels obligated to offer more illicit services, he’s growing more independent and is slowly relearning the meaning of freedom.

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