Your Lord and Master, Foamy

Name: Coltinir, Kumori

Race: bountou

Age: 479

Visual Age: 22

Gender: male

Personality:

To be blunt to the fullest extent, Kumori will mock any and everything he so desires upon sight or hearing. This isn’t to say he doesn’t agree that some things are a good idea, or believes everything to be perfectly idiotic, but at the same time boredom dictates him sometimes to state his opinion which isn’t always visually or phonetically pleasing but isn’t fully the truth from him either. But reactions can be ever-so lovely and amusing if the person decides to take it at face value or personally, in which they’re perfectly free to do so. Its not fully clear if he just likes to be an ass, is one, or if there is a more fraudulent reason behind it, but nevertheless he never fails to come across as one to many folks. And even if he states so bluntly sounding that he dislikes a mission to its utter extent and has no will whatsoever to do so, he will usually end up doing it regardless, though sometimes depending on the person it might take awhile. Respect, and all that permitting.

In respect to a mission or assignment of some sort he will get it done in his own time and way, as he tends to take his preferences over others unless otherwise thoroughly amused with the standards. Within the realm of fighting so few things deter him away from killing the other opponent unless it is otherwise hopeless and he will find an escape route so that he may reflect upon it later, but there is nothing people can hold against him in one. Whatever was precious to him has already been ripped from his hands in his own past and so he has decided against keeping anything that can otherwise be used against him. If he has any friends its hard to tell, due to his constant ability to tick all off around him, save for those who can stand such an abrasive personality. Not to say that he is fully without his charming moments, as he knows the value of a good “Hello, how are you?” from time to time on the unknown faces. Playing friendly has its benefits. When it comes down to it though, the better the pay the better the job and loyalty.

Appearance:

Height stands at a simple 5’10” with skin that is partially tanned but not overly so. His pitch-black locks are kept in utter disarray in a state of perfect order for him, touching his back, while bangs are kept sadly long as well. Hasn’t yet interfered with his sight nor ability to fight. Though his eyes are naturally bright, lake red (a color pencil I’ve loved), he will wear contacts sometimes to disguise them to a more natural dark blue if its necessary to blend in. Styles of dress can vary from fancy to simple hoodlum appearances, but often time his standard is this:

Spoiler:

The main different is that the collar is not that overblown on Kumori’s favorite jacket, and the pants are denim rather than a shiny leather. His right ear only has one piercing, while his left has four, though he isn’t always seen wearing earrings, nor all of them filled. As for tattoos, he sees no point in painting his skin due to personal reasons.

History:

Life always seems so simple at first. Grow up, learn the family trade, find a young wife to bear children, grow old, and die. Not so simple after you come to realize you’re not aging alongside your wife, and a hunger is arising in you with time to the point you end up devouring your neighbors and scaring your wife into having an early heart attack in a time of sad health. This lead to a need to escape, to leave the homely village Kumori had once resided in, back when he’d been using another name that has since been forgotten. What had caused such a feat beyond human measures? Where those legends of bloodsuckers true? Was it really blood he desired though, but something else? Such questions were beyond, what was at the time, human comprehension. This didn’t prevent him, however, from occasionally downing blood and something else he couldn’t put his finger on as of yet, though the blood felt separate from the actual need. But something told him he should take it regardless. How vampiric indeed, his mind would constantly tell him.

Times in clumps he would stay in varying locations, often traveling across Europe, sometimes spreading towards Asia. It was in Asia that he met his true love; a woman named Ceroko, and bore a child with her. The child had children of her own, and so he watched as his family once again grew into lineage. Alas, a monster of anonymity stole them away and with them his sanity for a while before he came to his senses. At the time it was unknown to him that some had continued to live to keep the family line alive down the road. Their blood would thusly be tainted by two sides of what was no longer a coin in dark energies but a multiple, three-dimensional polygon. Blood and that something else once again entertained his diet, with no family to otherwise hold him down.

Wars came, and with them a larger consumption of blood, leaving confusion as to what was causing some prune-like appearances in the death of their enemies, but decided God had all to do with punishing the evil. Not every time was filled with that something else, but there just was never enough blood and this confused Kumori greatly, as he was known by this time; a nickname gained while fighting alongside the Japanese. Soon enough his own corps had become demolished in World War II, leaving him to hide lest the enemies discover him. Instinct forbade being discovered and possibly tested on, just hated the idea. It was upon near discover his doll decided to ever so finally reveal its self, nick of time and all that, causing a scene that horrified a later troop and caused it to become a secret. Bodies and parts laying everywhere, decorating trees and sitting by rocks, and not a drop of blood to be seen.

Life since then has simplified rather largely until he crossed paths with a vizard, and the scent drove him nuts in its need to be recognized. One easy way to tell, and that was to devour the soul he knew he had been eating for so long. After wards it became apparent why she felt familiar: she was of his descent, but holding a different kind of darkness about her being than his own, a new taint permeating his lineage. Madness reign amongst his thoughts at devouring one of his own, but slow comfort came to him as realization that she was of death soothed this, as well as the gift of 1000 she was able to bestow him. That which he hungered for felt quenched for the first time, though the taint manifested visually and so the darkness that isn’t became his. The tainted blood.

Approved