At some distant point in time this Wyvern was a hopeful lad, full if bright and cheery thoughts for the future. He saw the bright new day as a sign for new adventures to take place, for new people to meet and experiences to be had. Somewhere along the way, however, someone he loved did him wrong and the wound drove so deep that it shattered the uncharacteristically good natured Wyvern's heart. Now there's Hell to pay and you'd better watch your back. While the one who harmed the fellow long ago has since paid for such a tragic mistake, rest assured this fun-loving badboy is going to whisk away your true love, tear down your home, and eat any small, cute, and adorable critters he comes across, whistling while he works.
With a pelt of glistening ivory he is a handsome Devil. Stress the Devil word in that sentence. Marked by scars through past trauma in his life, there's a sort of sad gleam in his pink eyes if you can catch it through his hard exterior. He's on the larger size for Ruins, and is able to hold his own in a fight if it comes down to it. And as relentless as this one is, you'd better hope that he's not picking a fight with you.
And the ones that I made pay, were never the ones to deserve it.
And the ones who deserved it, will never understand it.
He's got the heart of a lion and the back end of one too. This boy's feathered portion is a vibrant hue of banana yellow, his feline half the tanned brown color of a regal lion's pelt. With smears of red and green across his face, neck, and wings he kind of looks like he would be the life of any party. Or, at least, the pinata of one. Always keen to keep his talons sharp and his feather shining, he puts on a well kept appearance of looking menacing. Not the biggest, or strongest, or fastest of his Lordly brothers, he would never dare to harm another without a true, valid cause.
Rilnai has a bit of a shorter fuse than other Souths, and goes off making a fuss at the slightest affront. You forgot to say your please and thankyous? You didn't tack on a 'you're welcome' when you were serviced? Oh, gracious no, you didn't fold the napkins correctly! It's all about appearances, and this one will be first in line to tell you about first impressions and all of that jazz. His Bonded would do best to learn their manners quick, and be sure to warn other
That's a good question; do you know the enemy? This Ooglah has figured it out. Sort of. Nothing ever gets done, he's noted, unless someone is complaining about it. How are you supposed to know when to feed him if he doesn't curse about you while hopping around the feeding bowl? How are you going to know you're being oppressed by the man if this Ooglah's colorful language doesn't grace your ears? Silence. That's your enemy and this Ooglah is rarely that. That's right; he just wants to be your friend, looking out for you, muttering under his breath and then screaming when some great injustice is found.
He's a small little thing for his size, a poofball of dark slate fur with black spatterings against his legs and face. His face seems to be stuck in scowl mode, much is the case with his rank, and only comes alive when his shields fall due to the never ending hunger or when he gets really angry. Like when he sees someone walk under a ladder. Don't they know that this simple action could curse them for life!? WHY!!?? WHY INJUSTICE WHY!?!? Ah, oh well. It's rather more a wonder how his legs can support all his folding wrinkles, but such is the wonder of the Ooglah.
Mindspeech: Italic #dddddd
Sure, Sintar are supposed to appear world weary and wise, but they shouldn't actually be weary of the world, right? This Sintar, however, has evidently seen too much of Planet, and is sick and tired of what life has to offer. There is little point in material items - toys will begin to bore and annoy while everything that glimmers will fade and rust away. Life is a hapless, joyless adventure, the interactions you commit so much time into, meaningless. The romances so many lust over a waste. What you build today will crumble tomorrow, turn to dust in time. In the face of such a life-sapping power, no matter how many friends you make or bonds you form, one will always be alone. Needless to say, he's a quiet and considerable Lord. Far from suicidal, he simply contemplates the world, wishing to remain out of it, though not always. He dislikes feeling the emotions of anger and extreme sadness, and is actually drawn to these emotions in an attempt to alleviate them.
Contrary to the other Sintars' colors, more like all faedragons actually, this morbid little fellow has a drab, gray scales adorning his body. It's not surprising, really, considering his bright and cheerful disposition. There is the common characteristic glimmer in his wings, along his throat, and his frills, however this glimmer is faint. He is small and quiet, the perfect gargoyle atop a cathedral.
Meaning: Silent Sky
Speech: Italic #3EC0C0
You feel that there are eyes watching you when you enter the room. Slowly, gradually, you put the feeling to the back of your mind as you try to concentrate on the music and conversation, swaying your body to the beat. But the eyes are always there, watching, waiting for their moment to pounce - and then your friend stops by and the eyes, the feeling they left over your body, are located. He brought his friend with him, that friend that always laughs at your jokes, always listens to your boy problems, isn’t creepy, and is typically good looking, yet you never see him with a girlfriend so you have to begin to wonder. . .what’s wrong with him?
To answer your question, nothing is wrong with this little guy. Actually, there is nothing quite so little about him, if you get my drift. 8D -cue bad images now- His form is slender, yet with that certain physical draw that most masculine beings possess, and his claws are always sharp, his fangs always bright and gleaming. His coloration depicts something that is less than super, however, as he is a pale baby blue in coloration, with paws that fade into a beautiful creamy bone hue. His frill is typical for that of a pumal; like that of a Northern Carillon, deep magenta near his head but slowly changing into a metallic silver to a fine white at the very edges. His eyes are pale yellow, always watching, always waiting.
You see, the poor guy isn’t generally noticed beyond looking pretty. Being a pumal, he values his freedom and enjoys perusing the crowd before sampling the favors, but beyond being the tag-a-long fellow to bring so you can comfortably hang with your date, the guy isn’t generally thought of. This might be due to his quiet nature, and he is always very subdued, but in that shy tender way - despite being a death cat with four eyes, few think the guy is very creepy. He just wants someone to love, however, and almost needs someone to love, the yearning to cuddle and have someone there to hold him translating into fighting for bed space with his Bonded. If there is a fault in the boy, it’s that he gets almost too aggressive, secret, feline anger driving him to kill and maim for a female of his choosing. Ah, to be a ferocious kitty cat.