Post by Zaeram on Jan 23, 2018 15:15:05 GMT -5
Looking very much like her nick-namesake; ‘The Red Shark’, the former Kaldorei Zaeram has distinctive skin, smooth one way, rough to the point of cutting skin open the opposite if you’re lucky enough to lay a hand on her and not have it come back a bloody stump. A dusky hue of mauve caresses her languid curves, although from the hollow of her throat down her small chest and tight belly it is just a slightly lighter shade of purple that almost looks more grey in the right light. Fel tattoos cover her bizarre skin in angry, savage looking lines, as if they were cut into her with a rusty blade instead of merely inked. Instead of glowing green like many other of her ilk, hers pulses with a violent violet energy in time with her heartbeat instead of when she uses her ill-gotten powers.
Her face is triangular, cut severely like an apprentice jewel cutter did a hack job on a cracked amethyst as her high cheekbones and slightly crooked nose look like they could slice things as well as any knife. Faded tattoos of three claw marks each adorn either side of her stoic face, barely visible against her dark, rough skin, especially with the burnt red leather strips wrapped tightly around her head to obscure her empty eye sockets. There is a slight whisper of fel green glow from between the overlapped straps, but its only noticeable if someone is actively looking for it. Her silver-white hair is shoulder-length, unkempt, limp and languid as it looks somewhere between wet and/or oily at all times. Rising out of her ignored locks are two slightly curving horns that sport a multitude of slices and gouges that do not look like battle damage in the least as from the angle it seems the only person who could have put them there was Zaeram herself. Her long, ribbed, notched ears jut out from either side of her head but only sport a couple of random piercings, nothing matching in the least in either ear. Once she was probably a very good looking young Kaldorei, but now she’s got a face only a demon could love, and they really don’t.
Her clothing is mostly dark burgundy leather as it doesn’t look like she’s wearing it as much as cruelly bound up in it, the red straps look painfully tight wound around her, nearly cutting into her shark-like skin, but she moves as if unfettered and unbothered by its crushing embrace. The binding around her chest is so tight one can make out she has both nipples pierced as the leather has molded around the two metal rings set in her skin. She wears no footwear, seemingly preferring to go barefoot, the skin on the bottoms of her feet as hard as horn, the claws jutting from her toes sharp and painted in the blood of her most recent demon kills just like the ones on her hands. On either hip a short sword is sheathed, again where most of her kind prefer warglaives she has no such compulsion apparently as if she draws them one would note very quickly they are not made of tempered metal but what looks to some sort of crystallized bone.
Stoic and eerily calm, Zaeram rarely shows any emotion on her pointed face, but for those with the senses to detect the energies within her they’d note it burns similarly to an powerful eredar warrior completely chained to her fel iron will. If seen with others of her kind one might note that other Illidari step lightly around her due to the power of her dominated demonic seed despite her more diminutive stature of six feet five inches. However around what she deems ‘normals’ or non-Illidari, she is rather like a blank slate, her power seemingly non-existent as she exemplifies the word restraint in more ways than one.
Her face is triangular, cut severely like an apprentice jewel cutter did a hack job on a cracked amethyst as her high cheekbones and slightly crooked nose look like they could slice things as well as any knife. Faded tattoos of three claw marks each adorn either side of her stoic face, barely visible against her dark, rough skin, especially with the burnt red leather strips wrapped tightly around her head to obscure her empty eye sockets. There is a slight whisper of fel green glow from between the overlapped straps, but its only noticeable if someone is actively looking for it. Her silver-white hair is shoulder-length, unkempt, limp and languid as it looks somewhere between wet and/or oily at all times. Rising out of her ignored locks are two slightly curving horns that sport a multitude of slices and gouges that do not look like battle damage in the least as from the angle it seems the only person who could have put them there was Zaeram herself. Her long, ribbed, notched ears jut out from either side of her head but only sport a couple of random piercings, nothing matching in the least in either ear. Once she was probably a very good looking young Kaldorei, but now she’s got a face only a demon could love, and they really don’t.
Her clothing is mostly dark burgundy leather as it doesn’t look like she’s wearing it as much as cruelly bound up in it, the red straps look painfully tight wound around her, nearly cutting into her shark-like skin, but she moves as if unfettered and unbothered by its crushing embrace. The binding around her chest is so tight one can make out she has both nipples pierced as the leather has molded around the two metal rings set in her skin. She wears no footwear, seemingly preferring to go barefoot, the skin on the bottoms of her feet as hard as horn, the claws jutting from her toes sharp and painted in the blood of her most recent demon kills just like the ones on her hands. On either hip a short sword is sheathed, again where most of her kind prefer warglaives she has no such compulsion apparently as if she draws them one would note very quickly they are not made of tempered metal but what looks to some sort of crystallized bone.
Stoic and eerily calm, Zaeram rarely shows any emotion on her pointed face, but for those with the senses to detect the energies within her they’d note it burns similarly to an powerful eredar warrior completely chained to her fel iron will. If seen with others of her kind one might note that other Illidari step lightly around her due to the power of her dominated demonic seed despite her more diminutive stature of six feet five inches. However around what she deems ‘normals’ or non-Illidari, she is rather like a blank slate, her power seemingly non-existent as she exemplifies the word restraint in more ways than one.
Founded April 26, 2005