Zhe'a Yilma

WORK IN PROGESS - FULL TRANSLATION COMING SOON

EU|18+|Dark Fantasy|Paragraph/Plot RP|

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consetetur sadipscing elitr, sed diam nonumy eirmod tempor invidunt ut labore et dolore magna aliquyam erat, sed diam voluptua. At vero eos et accusam et justo duo dolores et ea rebum. Stet clita kasd gubergren, no sea takimata sanctus est Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consetetur sadipscing elitr, sed diam nonumy eirmod tempor invidunt ut labore et dolore magna aliquyam erat, sed diam voluptua.
At vero eos et accusam et justo duo dolores et ea rebum. Stet clita kasd gubergren, no sea takimata sanctus est Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet.

☾🌔

Born as a child of the night, the keeper still keeps the old habit of waking with the set of the sun. He feels at home in the tranquillity that only darkness can provide, which quite reflects the cornerstones of his personality, as he generally displays a highly reserved temper, whom only the fewest of things can elicit a genuine reaction from.



In spite of this lithic façade, he holds an unexpected fondness for the sweeter things in life in which he indulges all too often. The keeper might have simply wallowed in his vices for one too many times and thus has been left with a desolate and blunted affect - which could at least justify his withdrawn demeanour.



Acquisition of said “sweeter things” proves to be easiest when moving in the higher circles of society, which is why he prefers the company of those who, due to their standing, are much more likely to share his appreciation of the pleasures. Despite his childhood being a harsh lesson in humility, not much of it seems to have stuck with him to the present day and one would have an easy time to impute this egocentric with superficiality. Yet in his most inner depths there seethes a vestige of primitive aggression even to this day, which is best not brought forth to the surface.



As a whole he is an ambivalent personality, whose animalistic nature is interwoven with but very little warm-heartedness.

ages of delirium
curse of my oblivion.

♅

Zhe’s appearance boasts with monotony and downright invites to be overlooked; merely his above-average height sets him off of his people.

The keeper’s hair, almost tone in tone with the pallid anthracite of his skin, cascades in wild and wavy paths down over the entirety of his back, framing a lethargic visage where it meets the cheeks. Narrow lips, paired with clear-cut cheekbones and a prominent nose, would paint the face in broad strokes of aristocracy, was it not for a feral spark, persistently lingering inside the fire of his eyes, always preying, driving away all those fatuous souls who lend their ear to instinct, rather than reason.

For it is this haunting glow of the irides that, above all else, is capable of breaking through the otherwise grey and unmoved veil of his personhood and thus forms the most confessing part of his elseways reserved countenance. An untypically long topcoat of hair on both tail and ears however degrades his wolfish presence to that of a dishevelled mongrel.

As the most ornamental element of his semblance, a white pigmented piece of body art splits the torso into two segments. With strokes of a finger’s breadth yet branching into increasingly thinner lines, an aetheronomic geometry, consisting of many formulae based on different schools of magic, covers the right side of the keeper’s upper body, telling tales of archaic alchemy and astrology, even if only to the learned eye – Occult phrases and incantations directed towards the celestial bodies, which the more feral children of the twelveswood still pray to. Merely a single symbol upon his neck defies the established colour scheme and boasts a rich crimson hue instead.

He rarely clads himself in frippery, except for a few primitive talismans which are hardly ever cast off. These special trinkets count three in number - A fivefold perforated coin dangles on a simple band of leather, sharing its place on the keeper’s neck with other necklaces; One of fragile craft, yellowed splinters of bone beaded and knotted to a string, and another, with an elongated flask dangling on its end, in which, every now and a again, a shadow stirs.

breathe life
into this hollowed vessel of rebirth.
♆