Name: Lucivar
Aliases: Prick, Red, Luci and likely a few others.
Sex: Male
Race: Mix bred Infernal?
Age: Apparently around 25ish but is really 1600ish  
Height: 6ft4
Weight: 230lbs
Build: Muscular
Hair: Black, roughly shoulder length if not in his ponytail.
Eyes: Golden swirls
Tattoo's/Scars: Many, refer to discription

             {New Bio}

  Those golden orbs would stare upon the sqaure now, his gaze seeming down to earth, though never loosing that determined fire that burned so deeply in them. Though, even though the old is still apparent, so is the new. A deep pain would be in those eyes, a pain that was never there, though what it's from, one can't tell. Always almost holding a neutral stare, though at times, they'd seem to soften as seeing a woman harmed, or break down, seeming to almost take a big brothers look to them.

  His form would still stand as massive as ever, though now, ancient infernal tattoo would grace is form. It'd seem to almost appear tribal, though if one looked quickly, it'd seem like flying creatures in the sky, and soldiers upon the field. It'd run from the back of his shoulderblade, and up over to the front of his chest, taking over his right peck, before curling down his right side, and down over his hip bone. The same design would run down his arm, covering it fully down to his fore arm, before it would break off. A set of what looked like a skeletons fingers would adorn his hand, sliding down those battle worn digits.

Though his over all attitude was friendly in nature to those he cared to speak of, he'd seem to be one that kept one guessing, for there was a long list of events that this figure has lived, and seen. Once he was known as a brother, a husband, a general, a king, a bodygaurd, and a lover. Though as these names would be painted in a lighter nature than most, he also has been known as a traitor, a torturer, king killer, and rumor has it that he even used to run a sweat shop where he forced the workers to make mocking celestial wings and halos. At times he can be eccentric, or cold as the stone he normally leaned against.

Though his temperment has become known as mellow compared to what he once was, he'd still seem to appreciate a woman who was a lady in public, and as freaky as he wanted her behind closed doors, over those who would flaunt their bodies in calling to be man handled.

Many scars would litter his large frame, having been on the recieving end of many blades, and lived as much has he had given such scars himself. Though most would seem to have faded with time, the most recent would be a large patch of flesh on the back of his shoulder that would have seen to have been cut off without care, the skin having healed to cause an indent in the flesh, forming a small pocket.
   
              {Old Bio}

   He walks into this new land with determined eyes. His jaw is thick and chiseled as he stares at everyone with almost disgust. Golden orbs of the weave seem to stare down your form as if quickly scanning out your major organs, cracks in your armor and faults in the stance.

 Once again Lucivar brother of Daemon  has healed from his wounds at war in the abyss and has returned to seek out his brother in this new strange land, and perhaps a few old friends along the way

    His form is rather large and chiseled. That chest would form perfect pecks as the crevix would go from between those pecks and down the middle of his stomach to his chiseled washboard abs. Those shoulders would be broad and his back seeming to be more built than anything.

It would seem this man was built for hard labor and has benefited from it. Two large wings would adorn his back giving him a 15 foot wing span and each wing around Five feet in height. Their leathery surface would be heavily scarred along with the rest of his body.

He tends to be down to earth, though when angered he'd give you a snickering smile, as if he knew something you didn't, this being his signature look before starting a fight.

After many years of living in a world, where woman ruled, any woman who would hit on him, would seem to bore him, or even at moments, made him agitated. Those who were brave enough to throw themselves at him, or run their hand over his form, they'd recieve a bone crushing grip on their wrist, jerking them to look into those golden orbs, that seem to reflect burning cities with his anger, before letting it go.

Reds: Heavy gore, Vore ( Char dependant) server rules, vomit, Manly men (He doesn't mind their femboi, crossdressing, Traps, shemale variants.)