Kamatayan
(#46325141)
Level 2 Skydancer
Familiar
Greybeak Reaper
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Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Fire.
Male Skydancer
This dragon is on a Coliseum team.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.77 m
Wingspan
5.14 m
Weight
652.62 kg
Genetics
Coal
Crystal
Crystal
White
Facet
Facet
White
Filigree
Filigree
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 2 Skydancer
EXP: 31 / 641
STR
4
AGI
5
DEF
4
QCK
9
INT
9
VIT
4
MND
9
Biography
KAMATAYAN♫
"ET MESSOREM"
GRIGORI OF INTER-CLAN RELATIONS SECT
Scorpio / ISTP - A
“Anything that you cannot sacrifice pins you. Makes you predictable, makes you weak.”
(Mark Lawrence, Prince of Thorns)
GRIGORI OF INTER-CLAN RELATIONS SECT
Scorpio / ISTP - A
“Anything that you cannot sacrifice pins you. Makes you predictable, makes you weak.”
(Mark Lawrence, Prince of Thorns)
╭━━━━━━━━╮
Cutthroat ~ Cheerful ~ Fearless ~ Misleading ~ Precise ╰━━━━━━━━╯
 Manunulid // Older Sister  Palatia // Mate |
IN PROGRESS
youngest based off of Atropos kamatayan; death in tagalog duty: the hand that carries out his siblings' command. is the one sent off to dispose of those his brother has decided deserves death. deceptively pleasant and cheerful. cutthroat and succinct. his capability to be detached from those around him had him easily adapt to the role he was assigned, making him able to track down and cut down any kind of dragon kapalaran assigned him to. not above playing cat and mouse with his victims; likes to see them become skittish and then slowly realize their assigned fate. makes sure the last thing that they see before they die is his charming smile. stays hidden from outsiders for the most part since his duties are something that works better when it's not known publically- delights in how it gives him an air of mystery in doing so. despises making mistakes. never washes the blood off when reporting to kapalaran seeing it as proof of a job well done, and occasionally takes something from their corpse if he particularly liked the chase they gave. his siblings meet his sadistic antics with exasperated fondness elder siblings would have for their youngest, and despite being well aware of his capability and ease with committing violence are not above reprimanding him if they think he steps out of line. ruthless killer he may be, he is still their baby brother. manunulid and kapalaran are the only two people kamatayan will truly listen to. tala may be the lady of the alcove but his loyalty lies with his siblings. if they so choose to revolt against the alcove he will happily cut the dragons he has come to make tentative friends with down. but they won't, and he knows this. he just occasionally ponders over situations like that when bored. personality insp: mix of villanelle from killing eve and tywin lannister from game of thrones. more villanelle than tywin. |
Strength ██████████ Magic ██████████ Defense ██████████ Charisma ██████████ Intelligence ██████████    Kapalaran // Older Brother  Erasmia // Daughter and Protege |
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SCENE
↪ Nightime Capers. Brutish clamoring reverberated in lively tones about Kamatayan where he was seated, a hefty jug clutched in wickedly curved talons. Pale bubbles brimmed at the cup’s edge, a bitter yet strangely sweet scent wafting from the contents. The skydancer had not yet swigged the effervescent liquid, preserving his keen wits for the task at hand. Eventually, the seat beside him became occupied, taken by a gargantuan imperial with a heavily scarred hide and filthy mane. The hessian creature donned torn and soiled cloth, contrasting starkly beside Kamatayan’s more refined apparel, where silver glittered brilliantly against rich hues of crimson. “Ale,” the imperial commanded gruffly, waving a large mitt at the barkeep. Soon a cup similar to Kamatayan’s own materialised before him, and the stranger grasped it, chugging down the liquid carelessly. Ale streamed down the imperial’s neck where it spilled from the corner of his lips, and as he set aside the cup, froth clung to his jaws. “Waste of good ale,” Kamatayan murmured stolidly, fiery eyes sliding nonchalantly across the table to fixate instead on the imperial. The imperial paused for a moment, ill-tempered gaze meeting the skydancer’s own, before he leaned closer, lips pursed as if to speak. Instead, he spat, right into Kamatayan’s own drink. “Och, seems ye’ve wasted your own.” A wickedly curled grin stretched upon the imperial’s blackened lips, emphasizing the scars that crisscrossed his maw. “It’s really no issue, Dravon,” Kamatayan assured him, returning the grin with a swift leer of his own. “I prefer not to drink before work.” Dravon’s eyes narrowed viciously, their amethystine depths dark and deceitful. “How’d you know me name? You been following me?” The imperial’s tone was demanding, but Kamatayan could distinguish the acerbic tinge that betrayed his fear. He relished in that very moment; the moment when his target lost their confidence and felt their security soon replaced by the snaking tendrils of fear that lashed tighter and tighter the longer Kamatayan toyed with them. “No, I’ve done no such thing. However, word of your deeds have traveled.” Kamatayan waved idly at the barkeep then, and the lithe coatl ventured over. “Ale for my friend, if you would,” the executioner requested, baring a silken smile. As the coatl complied, filling another jug with ale, Dravon’s breathing had quickened minutely, and Kamatayan could see the wariness that poisoned the imperial’s eyes. As the ale was placed before Dravon, the imperial merely glanced at it, making no move to drink it. “Go on, then. You wouldn’t want to waste this one as well, would you?” Kamatayan’s serene visage persisted as he maneuvered the ale closer to Dravon with a prod of his talon. The imperial’s claws wrapped about the ale and, after studying Kamatayan for another tense moment, brought the cup’s edge to his lips. Kamatayan watched with giddy delight as Dravon downed the ale, his throat turned upwards to allow the sickly sweet drink to slide down. With a swift motion, Kamatayan unveiled the dagger that he had concealed within his cup of ale, dragging the wet blade across Dravon’s taut neck. Kamatayan then concealed the gaping wound beneath a strip of cloth, dragging the sputtering imperial from his stool and guiding him towards the door. To those around him, the duo appeared as nothing more than a pair of stumbling, drunk fools. It was difficult to see the blossoming blood rose against the red towel that Kamatayan had chosen, and soon he had maneuvered the dying creature outside of the bar and into the muddied streets. There he left him to gasp out his final moments, Kamatayan himself wiping the tainted blade upon Dravon’s cloak and sheathing it.The executioner withdrew a small parchment from his coat, striking his claw through the line that read “Dravon - arson” with a precise strike. Then he turned, ambling casually down the road under the brilliant eye of the moon, a silver goddess who seemed both calculating and uncaring in equal measure as she reflected beautifully in lifeless eyes and against murderous steel.
by Violence.
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Alignment : Chaotic Neutral HP House : Slytherin Primary / Slytherin Secondary Gijinka Ethnicity : x Gijinka Face Claim : N/A ━━━ Likes : Nighttime, Silver, x Dislikes : Failure, Being Surprised ━━━
A R T W O R K
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tentative gijinka ideas
skin: tbd hair: tbd physical features: sharp cheekbones. slender, deceptively strong. clothes: tbd |
 MISC |
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 DETAILS |
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