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xWickedBlackLace
Star
- Joined
- Mar 23, 2010
Soft footsteps sounded on the ground on the other side of a tall wooden post fence of the graveyard, clean black leather combat boots padding in a constant rythym along with the sway of the man's steps. An egotistical air seemed to surround him merely by the way he carried himself, head held high and his eyes closed just a bit with a certain confidence. Plain black trousers adorned his long legs, cut clean and sewn well, formal pants, one could say. Another, softer, patting could be heard with his step, the sound of a longsword's sheath slapping against his thigh with every other step. His shirt was in a similarly formal, yet typical style, a smooth deep blue fabric that buttons vertically upon his front, the top button left undone to expose porcelain pale flesh. Around his neck was a thin chain, a dulled silver, perhaps constructed of a lead based metal instead, a small pendant tucked under his shirt. Over his ensemble he wore a long black royal blue trench coat, open and blowing with any rare gust of wind, the loose hanging tails having a tendency to whip about eachother in curious fashions. The entire outfit was spotless... almost oddly so.
His skin was extremely pale, as if you could carve cold white marble and breathe life into it. He appeared one to avoid the sun. Long raven locks tied back, reaching pin straight to his mid-back, perfect. Whisps of bangs framed his forehead. He was a beautiful creature, really, and it was odd to see him in such a dull area, but this was where he found most of his pleasures, be it assassination, murder, mob dealings, theft, rape, slavery so on and so forth. But that was all underground.
His deep blue eyes showed a tad bit of amusement as he walked along the fence, glancing in on the quaint business that lay on the other side. He was perfectly aware of the rare peace that fell over this place... and he was waiting for his chance to pursue it further... and then destroy it. Negative places lured him in as such. He ran his tongue over his pearly fangs, smirking as he stopped in front of it, eyes peering towards the faintly lit windows in hopes of spotting some form of movement. His hands were hidden at first, his left one in his pocket and his right one under his coat, resting on the hilt of his sword. He was, after all, an immortal. An incubus, at that.
His skin was extremely pale, as if you could carve cold white marble and breathe life into it. He appeared one to avoid the sun. Long raven locks tied back, reaching pin straight to his mid-back, perfect. Whisps of bangs framed his forehead. He was a beautiful creature, really, and it was odd to see him in such a dull area, but this was where he found most of his pleasures, be it assassination, murder, mob dealings, theft, rape, slavery so on and so forth. But that was all underground.
His deep blue eyes showed a tad bit of amusement as he walked along the fence, glancing in on the quaint business that lay on the other side. He was perfectly aware of the rare peace that fell over this place... and he was waiting for his chance to pursue it further... and then destroy it. Negative places lured him in as such. He ran his tongue over his pearly fangs, smirking as he stopped in front of it, eyes peering towards the faintly lit windows in hopes of spotting some form of movement. His hands were hidden at first, his left one in his pocket and his right one under his coat, resting on the hilt of his sword. He was, after all, an immortal. An incubus, at that.