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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
5.25 m
Wingspan
6.56 m
Weight
782.58 kg
Genetics
Heather
Poison
Poison
Berry
Alloy
Alloy
Sanguine
Capsule
Capsule
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Skydancer
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
7
AGI
6
DEF
7
QCK
6
INT
6
VIT
6
MND
7
Lineage
Parents
- none
Offspring
- none
Biography
d u v h i r a t
CRIMSON SHADOW
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 ◇ history ◇
Born into minor nobility, Duvhirat learned the ins and outs of court - and quickly grew bored of them. He devoured every book, play and ballad that depicted far grander romance and intrigue than he could ever expect to see, longing for that special something they described, not quite sure how to find it. Occasionally he'd slip out of court and make his way to the less polished places in town, heart pounding at his own daring, seeking "adventure" - though in hindsight it was love he sought, not the daring battles or travel to far-off places. As such, these outings tended to end with rushed kisses and fumbles in dark alleyways before he stumbled back home, still alone, still aching for that spark. On a night much like any other, Duvhirat found himself in another alley, with another person pressing fervent kisses to his skin with enough passion that he missed the odd coolness of their skin, the way the press of their teeth tingled, and then burned. He blacked out. He woke in that same alley, squinting against daylight. He ached, with an unfortunate coppery taste in his mouth, a stabbing pain at the back of his eyes. Just an overindulgence, that'll teach me, he thought - but over the course of the day he only felt worse. Even the quietest sounds thundered in his ears, the scent of sweat and perfume of people passing made his head throb, and just the smell of food turned his stomach even as it rumbled louder and louder, hungry, starving. I'm going mad, he thought, when he looked into a mirror and couldn't see himself there - but when he looked down he couldn't deny the sight of nails that had gone sharp like claws, or the fangs that poked stubbornly at his lips. He knew he couldn't stay at court looking like such a monster. Duvhirat threw a motley (and impractical) assortment of belongings into a pack, fancy clothes and jewelry and books, before he dashed into the growing dusk. Frankly, he was begging to be robbed. But when someone tried, both he and Duvhirat got the shock of their lives when Duvhirat turned from delicate terrified noble to snarling feral beast in the space of a few seconds. Duvhirat came back to himself with his fangs buried in the man's throat, and he was killing this man and he did not want to but oh, his blood tasted incredible, better than anything that had passed through his lips before, he had never felt so complete, so alive - Somehow he wrenched himself away, managed to hoarsely scream for help as the man collapsed to the ground. He fled before he saw if anyone had come. So that he wouldn't hurt anyone else, he told himself; many years passed before he could admit he didn't want to know for certain that he'd killed him. Even as his senses settled into something more manageable - no longer on edge, seeking prey - Duvhirat's thoughts reeled out of control. He was a monster, he'd surely be killed, he'd surely kill any who tried! On pure instinct he fled the town, frightened of those who might recognize him, even more frightened that he'd already become unrecognizable, all of his previous self lost. Away from such a high concentration of people, it was easier to control his hunger. For a time. He avoided towns until his instincts screamed at him, a relentless pound of hunger that always ended with a human wandering too close, and then never wandering again. He lost count of how many, tossed helplessly between the grinding pain of resistance and the guilty satiation when he could finally rest - until the hunger grew again. Too many years, and finally he gave up. He couldn't continue this way, but he also couldn't end it - no human stood a chance of defeating him, and he didn't know enough of his own nature to devise an end to his eternal torment. Rumours of a witch reached him, and he decided to track her down. If he was lucky, she might be able to return his humanity. If he wasn't (and experience told him he wasn't), she might at least be able to kill him. Sonnet laughed in his face when he found her and asked to be cured, but in exchange for a sample of his blood, she agreed to tell him about what he is. She described a vampire's powers, chastised him for putting off feeding and then being surprised when his instincts got the better of him, and almost as an afterthought warned him of hunters who might track him, especially if he's left an obvious trail of bodies. She was blunt and a bit patronizing, but he still left with more hope for the future than he'd thought possible. Slowly, he learned to use allure instead of force, taking small bites and leaving his partners with hazy, pleasure-drunk memories of over-exuberant kisses. Duvhirat started to realize just how despondent he'd been, cut off from all interaction with others - he had always been social, not fond of being alone too long, easily infatuated. He was still wary of staying anywhere too long, but the little interactions and seductions that came as he fed did much to settle him. Hard to believe he'd ever longed for adventure and excitement. But he was reminded of those far-off dreams when he spotted an ethereal beauty of a man when he went out to hunt one night. He felt it, that spark - and even more than that, a thick rush of ecstasy when he couldn't resist sinking his fangs into the beauty's neck. When his head cleared, he was in his own bed, and alongside him was a six-winged, smiling beauty. Lethieri, the angel introduced himself. A literal angel, who wanted Duvhirat to show him the world as only a (former) mortal could. Duvhirat was happy to oblige. ◇ traits ◇
◇ associations ◇
◇ capabilities ◇
◇ locales ◇
◇ sightings ◇
 LATICAT  LATICAT  WILDEWINGED  KALAISCOPE |
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Exalting Duvhirat to the service of the Lightweaver will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.
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