Akizora, or Sora as he prefers to be known, journeys into Eorzea in pursuit of a deeper mastery of medicine and conjury. Born amidst the boundless plains of the Azim Steppe and shaped under the guidance of his adoptive parents, his curiosity for the healing arts grew insatiable.Yet, beneath the polished guise of a student lies a glimmer of his true intent. Weary of the monotony of apothecary life, Sora seeks the intoxicating allure of Uldah's shadowed dealings—whispers of stolen relics, forbidden herbs, and illicit trades have reached his ears.Drawn to the promise of a life far removed from the mundane, he establishes a discreet shop in the Goblet, weaving a web of connections. Will you prove intriguing enough to capture his fleeting interest, or dare to unravel the secrets he conceals?

• Carrd
• Twitter

Text

Born the second son of a minor but ruthlessly ambitious noble of Ishgard, Sevatar’s childhood was not one of privilege, but of calculated control.His father, a self-made man who rose through betrayal and manipulation, saw his sons not as heirs, but as instruments. The elder son was moulded into a weapon of politics and war, groomed to inherit. Sevatar was left to observe, to study, to obey.He was taught that affection was a liability. That kindness was a trap. That the only truth was power, and the only way to hold it was through fear.When his brother was murdered in a political maneuver orchestrated by their father, Sevatar witnessed the full depth of his father’s amorality. His mother, the only source of warmth in his life, was later killed by the same hand to secure a new marriage alliance.Sevatar returned from exile to find his family gone. He executed his father in silence, then dissolved the house. He sold its lands, disbanded its servants and vanished.But he has now returned, as a man who is far worse than his father ever was.

The hint of a sweet, tart fragrance leads you to a seemingly normal Xaela girl who reminds you of a sunset. Her bright red haunting eyes are said to be terrifying to witness in dim light. But the longer you stare, the more difficult it becomes to escape her cold yet comforting gaze. And her touch is rumored to induce sleepiness that leads to a strange, sweet dream.Her Hingan accent suggests she might be from the eastern region, and she would likely confirm it.. Yet there is very little information about Fuuka in the world, except for a connection to her adoptive father from Empereum.Straight to the point and inquisitive, Fuuka is eager to learn about life in the source and would not shy away from asking about her patron's journeys and deeds. What she loves to hear most is about cuisine and consumables—whether mundane recipes or legendary poisons.Fuuka's desire to study the cures and herbs is the only claim she expressed for working in Belladonna. Although everyone in the establishment knows things are not that simple around here...

• Twitter

x

• Carrd
• Twitter
• Bluesky

Evan was a man of the road, guided not by maps or stars but by the flip of a coin—heads or tails deciding his next destination. People swear they’ve seen him before—in markets, in taverns, or just out of the corner of their eye. His face feels borrowed from a dream: familiar, yet never placeable.He’s easy enough to find if you know where to look. Follow the rattle of dice in a shadowed alley, the curses of sore losers, or the crash of a chair through a tavern window, and there he’ll be, ears twitching with delight. He has a weakness for games of chance—dice, cards, anything where luck decides the victor, and he’s never one to turn down a dare, no matter how reckless.Now, he’s taken up residence as a host of Belladonna. A crooked, twilight-lit shop always within reach of the desperate. Behind its cluttered counters, he greets each visitor with a nod that suggests he already knows what they’ve come for. He doesn’t ask how you found the place. Only what you’re willing to gamble.

• Twitter

Rina is a sharp-witted and fiercely driven law student at the prestigious Studium, outwardly dedicated to her studies but quietly chasing something far more personal. Her nights are spent at the Belladonna, a quiet, peculiar shop steeped in half-truths and strange clientele. On paper, it's just a job; personally, it’s a key part of Rina’s investigation into the apothecary’s shadowy connections which might hold the missing threads that link to the people responsible for her parents’ deaths—and perhaps even the stolen fragments of her own memory.Composed, calculating, and quietly relentless, Rina carries her grief like a blade. Her loyalty runs deep—especially to her husbun, Koko—and she would break every rule she has studied if it meant protecting him. Though she walks in the light of law, her heart lives in the gray between justice and revenge.She finds fleeting peace in simple things: the hush of rain, the safety of home, the sweetness of a stolen treat. But beneath the calm lies a storm held still, a woman chasing echoes through silence and shadow—drawn ever forward by the truth that refuses to stay buried.

• Twitter

Rumour: On Friday, if you set a sprig of foxglove and a coin on the windowsill of the dilapidated house on the fourth street, your heart’s true desire will be granted.Orcinus, born into nobility and chained by its customs, could only breathe in the shape of the calming pills that dulled his senses. ‘Noble indiscretion’ was a pretty flower, riotous in attractive color and concealed its ugly thorns of desperate addiction just to cope. He was a flower, one that picked up his roots and vanished out the bedroom window just days after his betrothal.For this dealer of herbs and hallucinogens, that past is of little consequence. Instead, he’ll ask as he leans over the counter, wouldn’t you like to run from your past? There’s a dozen ways to get to that end, and you’re in perfectly safe hands here, really…For those that dared to dream but tired of trying, Orcinus crafts their answer in a bottle, a deal with the devil that grants a pale imitation of their true aspirations. Sleep with the essence of mugwort, or perhaps seek life’s greatest pleasure with tinctured mandrake root. No request is too strange… should you have the gil to back it up.Truth: On Fridays, a viera will come at your calling and grant you your ‘heart’s true desire’. Are you foolhardy enough to take his hand?

A decorated Immortal Flames Investigator with a spotless uniform and…some foul records. He learned in his younger days that law and crime often share the same table; it’s just a matter of where you sit. Investigations that ended too cleanly, suspects who vanished without trial, evidence that conveniently disappeared, and a certain male Viera’s pocket full of coins.When the day’s work was done, this ‘officer’ was likely to be found in the hidden parlors of Ul’dah’s underbelly. A drink in one hand and a little ‘packet of happiness’ in another. His camaraderie with Belladonna stretches back to his earliest side deals, ensuring the commissions went unnoticed through the city gates. His knowledge of illicit brews and powders isn’t just academic; he’s an expert with the application, whether to loosen lips or tighten throats.He welcomes everyone, though he mostly prefers the satisfaction of watching giants bend. Don’t you think it’s more fun when they realize whose cuffs they’re wearing?Because no one ends up in Belladonna without wanting something the law won’t touch.

Partially retired from adventuring, there have been numerous stories about Muirenn where she’s found working in a different place, working on a different job to say the least. She hates mundane days and doesn’t like to be idle, she likes to work a lot but has learned to take breaks.It wouldn’t be surprising if she’s found working inside Belladonna’s halls, listening to patrons stories while taking and serving their orders.

• Carrd
• Twitter

Originally a being from the 13th shard, she was cast into the source and possessed the body of a dearly departed. Her insides hollowed and her skin hardened like porcelain. Her entire body cracked as her limbs segmented into that which she is today; a doll of dark design. Its mind has mended with the host, no longer a mindless monster but something with the capacity for thought and empathy.Through her sister, she settled into her new life. She became learned of the ways of this world. Unfortunately, she can barely contain her voidborn thirst, and has taken up creative ways to be sated. She developed a fascination with the taste of aether. By twisting the life force of specific infusions, she can concoct a flavor unique to her, but perhaps unsavory to others.In these dark halls of Belladonna she has all the ingredients she needs, including you. To pull on these strings is to court death itself.

• Twitter

If you replace each part of a ship one at a time, would it still be the same ship?

If you replaced each memory of a person, would he still be Izana Eyrixen?As a humble peddler of wares, he travels to seek worthy owners for pieces of his staggering collection. Through connections forged he came to settle in Belladonna, where people and money flowed like unending water to suit his needs. But after all this time, the name 'Izana' still falls uncomfortably upon his ears.Izana Eyrixen, the true, original born of his body, tired of living before he had even opened his eyes. The vogue of living was wearisome, the work of a chirugeon, mundane. Had he known touching that mysterious crystal would replace him with the memories of an unimaginable other world, he would hardly stay his hand.Now the disjointed jigsaw puzzle— travels the world, listens to gossip, clears out that hoarder house 'Izana' left, eats delicious food, drinks tea in the afternoon, struggles against the lethargic apathy carved into the soul and bones of his body.

A fluffy Lalafell with delusions of grandeur. She wants nothing more but to put smile on your face. She has devoted herself to a life of service, and strives every day to deliver deadly cuteness. In her mind, only sweetness can exist in her world.Beneath her cuddly exterior is a sinister shade. As much as she likes sweets, she also loves playing tricks. Her brews are infused with cures, her cakes shadowed with curses, her candies laced with dark magic. Not everything is at it seems, but her joy at seeing you squirm is genuine!

• Twitter

Ichiya's daily life is plagued with guilt– guilt for causing his parents' execution in Ishgard, and guilt for failing to save his mentor from death in a pirate attack. Guilt fueled by grief and exacerbated by loss– losing even more loved ones is not caused by inevitable circumstances, but by his own careless mistakes and incompetency.He can't turn back time– that much he knows. Even if he tries to fight death and its workings from claiming his loved ones as best as he can, death's claim will still come and rob them of futures and happiness that they could've lived. There is no greater absolute than a life forfeit.But what if it doesn't have to be? They don't have to swim through the aetherial sea and find purchase in new life. They can still live as who they were, what they're meant to be. Death might've claimed them, but they don't have to claim death. Life will go on for them– life that they deserve more than their sudden end.Forbidden tomes. Drunken laughter and ramblings. Gossip spread under dim lights. Flora grown only in the darkest secrets of the unknown. Potions brewed behind closed doors. And dangerous pacts made at the crossroads.They say death cannot be undone, but Ichiya would dance with the devil if it means bringing them back.

• Carrd
• Bluesky

lorem ipsum

• Carrd
• Twitter

A raen with no fixed age and no fixed address. Only a trail of deliveries whispered about in backrooms and alleys. Belladonna calls him their courier, but what he carries often strays far beyond tinctures and teas. ‘Medicines’, weapons, even the bodies no law will claim. He moves them with a practiced ease and a smile that never falters.There’s a strange fondness in the way he handles his cargo, as though each vial and packet were old friends. His sense of smell is sharper than any beast’s, identifying contents before seals are undone. An edge that serves him well, and unsettles others more.Though, pretty things have a way of stopping him in his tracks. Sometimes it’s an ornament, sometimes a person. The difference hardly matters. His gaze lingering too long on whatever catches his fancy. Obsessed, perhaps, with beauty in its fleeting forms. Be it the glitter of a high quality crystal or the curve of a stranger’s jaw.Step into his delivery, if curiosity feels heavier than your caution.

The florist’s pale figure draped in white, with hands brushed in pollen and skirts dusted with petals. Her flowers rarely wither in vases; pressed, distilled, and drawn into fragrances that linger far longer than any bloom should.She supplies Belladonna’s halls with these blossoms, filling them with scents both sweet and calming. Yet, there is something in her precision, in the way she chooses each petal, each note, each lingering trace of fragrance. Her craft feels less like arrangement and more like orchestration, a quiet guiding hand deciding what lingers, what fades, what clings. A salvation in disguise.Although, salvation is not always mercy, and flowers do not bloom without roots hidden in darker soil.She is Belladonna’s quiet bloom, after all, and no one questions what grows in such a place.

• Twitter