Maezimra-Bath Xer'aph-yxia

Portrait

Description
-::Name::- Maezîmra-Bâth Xer'âph-yxia -::Race::- Devil, Baatezu, Brachina -::Gender::- Female (Natural Form) -::Occupation::- Recruiter of Souls -::Origin::- Baator, Nessus (Malsheem) -::Residence::- The Prime (Most Recent) -::Brief::- The maggot in a piece of succulent fruit, a draft of poison in an exquisite glass, the shine of someone else's gems... Maezîmra manages to bring a certain flavor of thought to mind. It's probably the horns that adorn her head like a twisted crown or distorted garland that hints most strongly that all is not sweetness and delight here. But one may also notice the dual layer in her voice when she speaks, or the sinuous tail that coils out as an extension of her spine. Probably another bad sign. Still, she is savory enough to set one's mouth watering - or send a hand to one's sword belt. This delectable reaper Her eyes were profound Drawing him in deeper Until he was drowned -::Detailed::- A perversely twisted creature, the only remnants of once having been something holy, sacred, and virtuous, clings to her back as slender tendrils of glorious light that might have been sinew on the bones of her once angelic wings. She seems to wear them as though they were a trophy of depravity. At will these illuminating ropes of slithering light fade, their brilliance snuffed out, and turn into something entirely more gruesome; a pair of vestigial wings, torn and broken, each feathered tip ending in a sharp blade that perpetually weeps blood. Her eyes, often covered by a slick and thin length of what looks to be stretched muscle, hold a nightmarish color, but remain slumberous and jaded when seen; they smolder with dangerous sensuality and fell radiance, emanating an inscrutable sensation of slipping further into their depths when met directly. With succulent curves, she carries her statuesque form with a delectable sway in her hips, causing heads to turn, mouths to water, and loins to tighten. Her body is corded with lean muscle, her long legs in particular has a sinewy strength that propels her with ease both in battle and other passions. Whatever armor she wears, her garments are always cut in a provocative style, obviously for the onlooker's vulgar delectation. Upon close inspection, these "outfits" seem entirely alive, shifting and coiling about her curvaceous figure, moving as though merely an extension of her will. They often resemble living flesh and tissue, but seem capable of mimicking glistening metals and slick leathers. The exception to this is the single pair of small, mismatched green-steel shackles that occasionally appear around each wrist; the devices linkless and obviously not from the same pair, but often hidden beneath the flesh of her gloves. In spite of the obviously wicked choice in how she dresses, the woman never really reeked of flesh, fresh or otherwise, although a distinctly iron-laden scent could sting sensitive noses that came too close. When she speaks, her compelling voice pours from her glistening mouth in tones perfectly tailored to each individual listener's ear. There is no denying that her beauty is profane, so perversely intense, her features unacceptably smooth and sadistically flawless that it's difficult to believe that she could be real. The menace of a smile often curves her lips, promising an unhealthy end to those that approach without the psyche or physical means to support their advances. From wet lips To her smoldering thighs Her beauty perfected And her will agonized -::The OOC Debacle::- Might be updated one sunny day, but I make no promises.
Player:	Orchestral Darkness
Gender (Visually):	Female
Race (Visually):	Human