Asbolus/Appearance: Difference between revisions

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'''Mien:''' The most apt word to describe Asbolus as seen behind the Mask is ''sharp''.  While he doesn't sport the more lethal mien of his Courser associates he still gives off the air that even a simple touch would leave a thin scratch in its wake, like a scalpel drawn across glass.  His already striking gaze takes on an almost feral intensity, every movement tracked and followed.
'''Mien:''' The most apt word to describe Asbolus as seen behind the Mask is ''sharp''.  While he doesn't sport the more lethal mien of his Courser associates he still gives off the air that even a simple touch would leave a thin scratch in its wake, like a scalpel drawn across glass.  His already striking gaze takes on an almost feral intensity, every movement tracked and followed.


'''Mantle:''' The air about the Darkling sometimes goes stock still, as thought the world is holding its breath.  When his ire is raised - or when on the hunt - a chill breeze follows in his wake, paired with the shadows he casts darkening in his wake.
'''Mantle:''' The air about the Darkling sometimes goes stock still, as thought the world is holding its breath.  When his ire is raised - or when on the hunt - a chill breeze follows behind him, paired with the shadows he casts darkening in his wake.
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Revision as of 16:32, 22 March 2020

Mask: Asbolus is a tall bloke at a few inches over six foot, sporting a runner's build, short blond hair and a British accent that has shown no signs of fading after years living in the States. His most telling feature is his eyes, a stunning blue-grey that seem to peel apart everything that he looks at down to its base components. He tends to dress casually but neatly, his bearing one that makes it easy to forget his presence until he deems otherwise.

Mien: The most apt word to describe Asbolus as seen behind the Mask is sharp. While he doesn't sport the more lethal mien of his Courser associates he still gives off the air that even a simple touch would leave a thin scratch in its wake, like a scalpel drawn across glass. His already striking gaze takes on an almost feral intensity, every movement tracked and followed.

Mantle: The air about the Darkling sometimes goes stock still, as thought the world is holding its breath. When his ire is raised - or when on the hunt - a chill breeze follows behind him, paired with the shadows he casts darkening in his wake.