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Ezrael Flavaar

A convuluted mess that can only get worse!

776 views · located in Wrath (Ira) - Fifth Circle

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Patcharoo

Description

Ezrael is a teenager, human in appearance with short blond hair. He currently has dark eyes but no other real definition.

Personality

Ezrael's personality has been ripped apart by his childhood, leaving a pit of hatred.

History

This is the son of Drakus and Cinder Flavaar, born to his mother away from his father, than handed over to the man one night. His life was one plagued with neglect, then he died.

So begins...

Ezrael Flavaar's Story

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A yearning for earthen lands screamed from the body of the dark man as he entered through the door, brushing it aside with mere causality. His grace, undeniable, his features, flawless. The man himself would be the first to claim himself perfection amongst the mortal planes of which he sought to wander. Darkened optics swept through the bar, a tinge of darkness fluttering through sensitive hearts as his hope-threshing gaze passed. He was finally present in the merciless lands of the forgotten. Terra.

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The individuals head swept back to see the mechanised person thrusting themself into the structure, blade drawn as a violent threat to another. Amusement flickered to his features as calm footsteps took him past the conflict to his own corner of comfort and peace to merely observe the unfolding events.

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Change. It was what was to be preached. And the man who stood behind the change? A dark man with equally dark eyes. His message was simple, a long awaited justice for those who deserved it.

Light footfalls could be heard as he stepped into the structure of Gambit's, a somewhat sorry alehouse which found itself too oft frequented by violence and unsavoury individuals. Today he would begin his legacy, a mark on the world that would live on forever. He was handsome, yes, some would even say flawless, but this feature proved only skin deep as ever a feature was.

Calm smile twisting his lips upward he grinned, legacy laid out before him in his mind. Change was coming.

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The man strode across the room to the feline figure laid upon a table. "Hello there, kitty cat," he spoke in a soothing voice, reaching out a slender hand to give her a pet, "What have you been doing today?" Maybe he was a little mad, speaking to a cat, but so long as there was no other what harm could it do?

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"Yes," he says casually, "I imagine your life is a simplistic joy other then the other cats you meet and the people who do not like cats. Quite the metaphor for humankind, really. Persecuted by others of the same and by those who hate cats." He chuckled at his own joke.

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The man tilts his head ever so slightly to the side and exhales. "Of course, I could kill for some real company. A humble barcat may have the thrilling life of mouse hunting, but they lack the vocal capacities to share it."

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The mans hand momentarily retreats, but a smile creeps to his features once more. "Then perhaps you should have specified so earlier?" he responds somewhat politely, but there was no hiding the conceit in his voice.

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The man chuckles once more. "I see. I suppose its not the business of a man to invade the business of a cat, is it?"

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"I am entirely in agreement," he responds with a nod. "So we are at an impasse. Neither of us wish to become a problem to each others business, and now we stand in uncertainty of how to continue."

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The man tilts his head. "Well, that would lead to entire series of different eventualities, wouldn't it? But as it is, you are a cat and I am not."

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"Now whyever would you do that? Forgive me for imposing on your cat, yet not a cat business, but does it not seem strange to make yourself a conspicuous individual? One would almost assume you were attempting to draw attention to yourself."

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A drifting individual loomed at the doorway for a mere moment before pressing forth into the structure of Gambit's, body seeming a touch unsteady, as if they were not used to standing. "Good day," he announces in a subtle voice which carried through the bar.

He trudged forth on unsteady legs with echoing footsteps, body swaying awkwardly. His eyes flicked sharply to the side, as if cautiously examining the room for some unseen presence before finally managing his way to the counter at which point he slumped into a chair, hunched forward.

His eyes flicked across to Ari for a moment, uncertainty wavering in his eyes, before finally settling on a small and uncomfortable smile. "Hello."

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The mans eyes lazily lifted up from the bar to stare, as though he were tired or already drunk. "Pardon?" he asks, then after a moment realises what she said. "Nothing," he sharply adds, then falls quiet for several moments, eyes dropping to the counter once more as if in thought. "Do you believe... we have a purpose?" he asks with a brief gesture of his hand.

For a brief moment a slither of blackness, like a scale of oil, was visible on his arm, though his hand dropped quickly to conceal it. "On this place...?"

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The man was at a loss for words of how to respond. "The... reason is... hard." It was difficult to explain, but his uncertainty wasn't helping. "Uhm, what if your existance made the word shriek in pain? Hypothetically. I think you'd here it if it was me." It may have sounded like a joke, but his mood seemed sober, contradictory to his movements.

"So I would make my own path if it was there to make?"

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"No... clarity seems to be... escaping me," he responded. "Speaking of which," he rose, "I should be making my way once more into the streets whence I came." He stumbled towards the door as awkwardly as he entered, tugging on his cloak to pull it around his body. "Good night." He left without turning back.

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The door brushed open as the man entered through the front door, lips curling up into a devious smile. The smile was nothing to be overly impressed or intimidated by, but the dark eyes, those dark dark eyes he had, they sent shivers down the spines of mortals. Smile now wide enough to show teeth he pushes forth, knocking back the door with one palm as he makes bold strides through the establishment.

His gaze sweeps eagerly from left to right, an entire society to explore, experiment and do as he will with. He could barely contain his excitement. He brushed back his hair over his near perfect features, confidence rippling from his effiminate form. It was enough to make a fangirl fawn.

But as his hand rose on the underside of his arm a small black scale, like oil, could be seen, a dark mark of something that was wrong. His arm dropped before a good look could be garnered and in his haste he didn't seem to notice it either.

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Well, that was curious. A threat seemed to stand out amongst the apparent regulars of Gambit's, a man with a gun. Focus seemed to be on that individual with no less then three others around them having reacted in various amusing fashions. His grin only widened to be unpleasant now, his previously gorgeous features twisted and unpleasant. "Swords, not words," he comments subtly to himself, quoting the old phrase about fighting rather then diplomacy.

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The man had barely made it two steps past the front door when another had decided to enter behind him. He turns, casting his dark gaze towards Kira Yamamoto's self, smile slowly fading as he sized up the individual. Surely not as tall as he, he wasn't sure what to make of the timid individual. "Hm," he manages, but merely continues staring for the moment.

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The man stared, listening in silence to the neko. Oh, this was almost too precious. An experiment who talked to their doll? This individual was already suitably broken enough to pose any threat to his enormous ego. He offers out a hand.
"Hello," he says softly, smile creeping onto his features, "Do you want to be friends?"

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Ezrael couldn't help but grin. He reaches out a hand to pet Kira's head, should she not move. "No, actually. Why would I hurt you? You're not remotely threatening. No, I think it would be better to have you on my side. By the same logic, why lie to you? Who would you tell?"

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Ezrael let out a soft sigh, amusement fading. "If everyone lies, does that mean Samael lies too?" Too easy, he felt, it would be to trick this mind. "And besides, I'm still not going to hurt you. Come, I'll get you some water or... juice," he informs her in a manner that would seem off-handedly condescending.

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"Sydney? It seems you must no lots of liars," Ezrael comments dryly. "So what was this talk of experiments?" he inquires, piercing gaze focussing on the neko. His patience was wearing thin and even he was begining to doubt he would stay he hand around the girl. His arms raise up and fold before his chest. "And who is this Sydney girl," he asks, though it had a slight edge, as though he was demanding it.

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know*

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Ezrael shrugged. "Then... don't?" he suggests. "You begin to... bore me with your whining. It's really unbecoming." He let's out a huff, then pas her on the shoulder, though it was more like a light slap. "Straighten up, you look so undignified." He was struggling to keep his eyes on the neko without rolling them. Really... this was embarrassing for the both of them.

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Ezrael suddenly grinned. Oh, a threat was it? How amusing. "What do you plan to do?" he asks Kira coyly.