Post by Sokuro on Apr 27, 2009 5:53:20 GMT -5
Name: Veryan Nightblade
Age: Looks to be early twenties.
Race: Half-elf
Physical Description: Veryan stood at five-foot ten inches tall with near waist-length midnight blue hair that seemed almost to be more black. His eyes carried a subtle jade green hue to them in darkness, gleaming as clean-cut emeralds on a bright summer's day. More often than not, each passerby would find Veryan veiled beneath a form fitting leather tunic that l left his arms bare, and a matching pair of trousers leaving no room to snag on jagged edges. Clasped around either bicep were throwing knives strapped into place, and his forearms wrapped in what one could assume to be rather thick, dyed cow hide. An obvious defensive measure to other blades. While Veryan made no attempt to entirely guard his form, he was always found with a mask, curving in a near solid material with breathing slits at the nostrils, wrapped over his face just beneath the eyes and clasped behind his head, obscuring any chance at true identification... A thief, perhaps?
Personality: While initially, this man would come off as sane, collected, and otherwise "normal" despite his appearance, his love for darkness had corrupted his mind to the point of Faith. Those who had spent enough time around him to take note, would realize he spoke of the darkness as a being, a god-- Leaving most to wonder just how close to the edge of sanity he walked each waking moment. Cunning, often blunt in his choice of words and approach, and at times rather sexist. Thinking of women, at most times, to be little more than trophies granted to those befitting of their beauty.
Age: Looks to be early twenties.
Race: Half-elf
Physical Description: Veryan stood at five-foot ten inches tall with near waist-length midnight blue hair that seemed almost to be more black. His eyes carried a subtle jade green hue to them in darkness, gleaming as clean-cut emeralds on a bright summer's day. More often than not, each passerby would find Veryan veiled beneath a form fitting leather tunic that l left his arms bare, and a matching pair of trousers leaving no room to snag on jagged edges. Clasped around either bicep were throwing knives strapped into place, and his forearms wrapped in what one could assume to be rather thick, dyed cow hide. An obvious defensive measure to other blades. While Veryan made no attempt to entirely guard his form, he was always found with a mask, curving in a near solid material with breathing slits at the nostrils, wrapped over his face just beneath the eyes and clasped behind his head, obscuring any chance at true identification... A thief, perhaps?
Personality: While initially, this man would come off as sane, collected, and otherwise "normal" despite his appearance, his love for darkness had corrupted his mind to the point of Faith. Those who had spent enough time around him to take note, would realize he spoke of the darkness as a being, a god-- Leaving most to wonder just how close to the edge of sanity he walked each waking moment. Cunning, often blunt in his choice of words and approach, and at times rather sexist. Thinking of women, at most times, to be little more than trophies granted to those befitting of their beauty.
' Bloody heck, two jobs and a BUNCH of kerfuffle later, and I'm back AGAIN.