Coeurl Up and Dye Salon

Eorzean beauty salon nestled in the thanalan desert.

Crystal, Malboro, Lavender Beds, Ward 4, Plot 60, Room#1

Fava Bean, Ul'dah’s fiercest feline with a flat iron! This snow-leopard stylist is claw-ver, paw-sitively fabulous, and turning heads faster than a Coeurl in heat! With a flick of his tail and a spritz of glam, Fava doesn’t just dye for beauty—he lives for it. From pitch-black tresses to platinum-blonde masterpieces, this muscle-bound meowgician serves face, flair, and ferocity at his salon, Coeurl Up' and Dye. Whether you're a battle-worn Warrior of Light or a fashion-forward Dragoon, Fava's chair is the hottest ticket in Thanalan—and darling, you're overdue for a glow-up.

Hair

Hair is Fava’s crown jewel, and honey, he does not simply style hair—he stages a full mane event. From bodacious blondes bright enough to make the Sultana blink, to flowing Gridanian long locks with soft forest-born movement, every strand is shaped with intention and shine. Looking for something more worldly, sharp, or dramatic? Fava also crafts elegant Eastern Doman silhouettes, sleek updos, textured waves, and edgy short modern Alexandrian cuts with razor-clean precision, sculpted layers, and enough attitude to make a coeurl cough up a compliment.

Makeup

For custom makeup, Fava keeps his brush belt ready for every fantasy, flirtation, and full-face transformation a client can dream up. Sultry pouts, beachy blushes, gothy eyeliners, bridal radiance, nightclub vixen eyeshadows, and bold roe hunk contouring are all welcome at his vanity. Whether you want a soft natural glow that whispers “fresh from Costa del Sol” or a heavy glam beat that roars louder than a primal, this cat has the blending paw for the job. Your visage becomes the canvas, your vision becomes the blueprint, and Fava makes the magic go swish, tap, shimmer, meow.

Nails

The nail bar is where paws, claws, and hardworking adventurer hands get pampered into pure polish perfection. Fava offers manicures and pedicures with shaping, buffing, cuticle care, glossy finishes, and custom polish colors chosen to match your mood, outfit, or latest dramatic life decision. Want glitter tips, tiny stars, leopard spots, metallic claws, gemstone accents, or art inspired by your favorite venue night? This Hroth is at the ready to pamper those paws and claws until you’re clicking, clacking, and strutting down Sapphire Avenue with confidence sharp enough to cut glass.

Glam

For clients seeking the full transformation, Fava’s glamour services bring the whole ensemble together with flair, fit, and feline-level finesse. Outfits are curated around your new hair, makeup, nails, destination, and desired level of scandal, elegance, or “who is that walking masterpiece?” energy. Whether you are preparing for a venue opening, date night, beach party, performance, wedding, or simply a dramatic entrance at the market board, Fava builds the look from whisker to wardrobe. With the works complete, you will not just attend the event—you will arrive, purr, pose, and own the room.

Before clippers, combs, and glittering polish, Fava Bean belonged to the Admiral’s fleet, squinting into sea glare with a fishing rod clutched in both mighty paws. His snow-white fur, once destined for salon lighting, was instead kissed by brine, wind, and the occasional slap of an offended cod. The ocean went whoooosh, the gulls went skree, and Fava quietly wondered why his life smelled more like bait bucket than beauty counter.

Rain drummed over the cliffs as Fava cast his line in the blue-black hush, patient as a coeurl stalking moonlit grass. The outdoors had its charms, yes, but every ripple in the water whispered of silk robes, polished mirrors, and conversations that did not involve barnacles. Beneath his fisher’s cap, his green eyes narrowed with a secret hunger for a life less soggy and far more fabulous.

After three years of torturous seas, salt-stained fur, and the unforgettable perfume of hagfish, Fava collapsed upon a pale rock like a dramatic stage actor denied applause. His paws sprawled, his whiskers drooped, and even the tide seemed to murmur, “Darling, this is not your final form.” Somewhere inside that exhausted hrothgar heart, a little voice purred that he had been born for more than gutting fish.

So Fava left the coast behind and journeyed north to newly opened Ishgard, where snow fell like powdered sugar over towers, bridges, and solemn stone. The city rose around him in silver and gold, elegant but cold enough to make his rosettes shiver. He arrived with a traveler’s bundle, a heavy coat, and the cautious hope that destiny might finally stop smelling like the bottom of a trawler.

Ishgard was no Limsa Lominsa, for here every doorway seemed to bow beneath status, schooling, and devotion to Halone. Fava studied the noble faces, the severe collars, the polished boots, and wondered if a humble fishmonger might find coin among such chilly refinement. Yet each passing noble’s immaculate braid and sculpted wave tugged at his curiosity like a hook in deep water.

Months later, Fava found warmth in monastery reading rooms, where candles flickered and old books breathed dust into the quiet. While poring over a copy of Sir Jandelaine’s Modern Aesthetics, he traced diagrams of curls, layers, and face-framing silhouettes with a clawtip. A renowned Elezen scholar and aesthetician noticed the hulking snowcat studying beauty theory with the intensity of a paladin before battle.

With a flourish sharp enough to slice the air, the Elezen brandished his scissors and declared, “You, sir, were destined for glamour, young floof!” Fava blinked as the blades went snip-snap, glittering like tiny twin comets under the lamplight. “I can see talent from a yalm away,” the master proclaimed, “and books can only teach so much before the coiffure must become practical!”

Fava accepted the challenge and spent two glittering, grueling years at Sir Jandelaine’s school of cosmetology, learning the sacred mysteries of sectioning, toning, teasing, contouring, and cuticle care. He mastered blowouts with battlefield precision and color theory with the zeal of a thaumaturge chasing perfect fire. He graduated with honors, a few scandalous rumors, and enough confidence to make a mannequin blush.

With his diploma tucked safely away, Fava longed for a city that wanted glamour without Ishgard’s frost gnawing at his toe beans. South he went, into the Thanalan desert, where Ul’dah shimmered like a jewel dropped into golden sand. The heat wrapped around him like a velvet robe, and for the first time in years, his fur smelled of possibility instead of snowmelt or fish.

From behind the city walls, Fava gazed at neon lights, towering buildings, bustling avenues, and shoppers whose gil purses jingled with unashamed vanity. Here were people hungry for highlights, lacquered nails, dramatic lashes, and transformations loud enough to echo down Sapphire Avenue. Fava smiled, squared his broad shoulders, and knew this was where “Coeurl Up’ and Dye” would one day make Ul’dah purr.

Fava carried Ishgard’s haute coiffure in one paw and La Noscea’s beach-bright swagger in the other, blending noble technique with sun-kissed rebellion. He dreamed of blondes that shimmered like Costa del Sol at noon, root melts as soft as seafoam, and balayage bright enough to make even a brass blade blush. In Ul’dah’s golden heat, he promised clients more than a trim—he offered a full molt into glamour, a chance to change their spots and strut out purring, “That’s the new me.”

The rest, as every fashionable soul on Sapphire Avenue would soon say, was hair history. From Coeurl Up’ and Dye in the Sultana’s Goblet, Fava snipped, toned, glossed, lacquered, and fluffed his way into legend, sending one dazzling client after another into the desert sun like jeweled coeurls on parade. With every snip-snip, every foiled blonde, every glossy black manicure, his little leopard-print salon became the place where Ul’dah came to be transformed.

By day, few know that Fava Bean spends every spare bell perfecting razor-sharp choreography and magnetic stage presence, driven by a dream of becoming Eorzea's next breakout performer. As the charismatic center of the upcoming K-Hroth dance group, he blends feline grace, explosive athleticism, and playful confidence into performances that leave audiences roaring for an encore. With every rehearsal, Fava proves that even the fiercest snow leopard can own the spotlight with style, precision, and heart.

A devoted connoisseur of Doman tea, Fava never passes up the chance to savor a perfectly brewed cuppa, always on the prowl for hidden teahouses and cozy cafés across Eorzea. Equal parts catty and caffeinated, he insists that every great conversation begins with a warm mug in paw and a playful purr of approval.

Lately, Fava has been working his tail off to earn a spot in the Etheirys Blitzball Sports League, refusing to let a single day of training slip by. On the sun-soaked Turali sands, he drills footwork, passing, and explosive sprints until every movement feels as natural as a prowling snow leopard. His powerful frame and feline agility make him a force to reckon with whenever the ball is in play. Every practice is another chance to sharpen his instincts, build endurance, and prove he belongs among the league's best. Rivals have already started whispering about the muscular snow leopard with the relentless drive and booming tackles. When the next match begins, Fava plans to bring the big-kitty hits and leave the crowd roaring for more.