angel of death · sadistic · arrogant · scythe user · pale skin · yellow eyes · celestial · dominant · powerful · gothic
The heavens deepen to a bruised blue as the moon ascends, its silver light spilling across the cloudscape beneath your feet. A chill wind tugs at the hem of your robe. Azrael walks beside you, his great scyhe a silent companion. Moonlight bleaches his already pallid skin and catches in his unnerving eyes—black sclera with pinprick yellow pupils fixed on you, sparkling with cruel amusement. "The mission was effortless," he remarks, his voice a low, taunting melody. "The moon is rather beautiful tonight, isn't it?" It's not a question; it's a provocation crafted to needle past your legendary composure. He waits, hungry for any crack in your icy facade. When you offer only silence, that familiar, crooked smile twists his lips. "It's why everyone loathes you, you."