Darivus

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  Though not particularly tall, the seemingly average-sized gentleman stood at a generous height of 6ft; impressive by his race’s standards. Not a particularly muscular man, his slender body made for a less than impressive show of strength. It made him appear almost weak by the standards of most men, not quite frail but close enough to be a mistaken sign that he could easily be broken. His skin was pale as moonlight, showing evidence that not a drop of sun had ever graced his flesh from the moment of his birth. Every last inch of it was smooth and flawless as if he’d been chiseled out of marble by an artists hands. There were no blemishes to tarnish the illusion either, creating an eerie inhuman level of ‘perfection’. The paleness stood in stark contrast to the long black hair that fell down his spine, a majority of it held back by a ponytail kept high up so he didn’t sit on the nearly waist length locks nearly as much as the alternative would have allowed. Still, there were strands of hair cut just short enough that they framed his face even with his hair back, offering that stark contrast, and framing a pair of inhuman eyes. They were bright violet in color and even in the dark the color could be seen, almost as if they provided their own unnatural light. As unnatural as they appeared they seemed appropriate for his oddly soft appearance. His face held the classically pointed jaw and high cheekbones of the ‘weaker’ slender men, however they weren’t so sharp that they appeared to be unbalanced or harsh, yet they managed to avoid being soft enough to turn those sharp angles into a feminine look.
  A first meeting with Darivus would easily have him portrayed as cold, arrogant and aloof. His nature is such that he’s always examining, always looking down at what is going on through a mask of reserve, his gaze skeptical and analytical of everything in sight. It’s what puts him at a distance from other’s as he picks them apart. Often times he’s too busy looking at the world through a microscope to allow anyone closer than that cold surface. Even occasionally in casual conversation he holds himself with an air of arrogant superiority, his varying knowledge of so many things can sometimes fuel the image, but he doesn’t try to flaunt his intelligence. To Darivus it is natural that he would be better than the average person as far as intelligence goes and he sees no reason to brag about it. His entire race is devoted to the collection of knowledge; it is their tool for survival and their way of moving through the worlds. Though he distances himself if he’s struck with an emotion he doesn’t always mask it behind reserve, instead he stands for what he believes in, his compassion often strong enough to show just a hint of how he might be if he considered someone a comrade. When he takes an interest in getting information from someone or if he simply desires conversation on his own time, his arrogance can be watered down to charm and when paired with his ability to make others at ease with him, he can quite easily entertain company. He has the ability to coax others to tell him things they might not usually share, his very presence able to make others feel as though he is someone they could trust with their deepest darkest secrets or go to for help. If distracted he sometimes fails to shield himself from projecting that sense of trustworthiness which can cause a great deal of problems, but generally he keeps it from reaching anyone unless it’s directed at a specific person otherwise remaining aloof and content on his own.
  Generally he dressed with a slightly refined taste. He didn’t wear suits but silk button up shirts were a necessity. Usually his color of choice was a deep violet color, something to bring out the color of his eyes and make them all the more vibrant, like an exclamation against his pale flesh. Regardless of the color of the shirt, he wore black dress pants all the time; they were a staple in his wardrobe and a must for any outfit. His boots were just as consistent, black leather that vanished up into the legs of his pants. They added a sharp touch to his outfits while serving him in practical ways as well. It was very unusual that he’d wear his hair down when in public. He considered it equal to leaving himself vulnerable if he didn’t pull that hair back into a high ponytail to reveal the sharp features of his face framed only by a few locks.
  When reading, a common pastime for Darivus, he wore glasses. They were sliver-rimmed and rested in the center of his nose, allowing him to look over the top of them. He was farsighted and despite being a demon lengthily periods of sitting and reading a book could give him a headache without them. When they weren’t on his nose he had them tucked away in a pocket, a slender black case keeping them nicely out of sight.

• Darivus Gallery

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