Vampires

Name: Itzal
Nickname/Alias: Itzal
Gender: Male
Age: Unknown
Type of creature: (are u a zombie, a spirit, etc) Spirit
Description of type: Shows himself as a shadow
Occupation: None
Weapon(s)/Power(s) of choice: Has the power to manipulate the fears of his target in order to render them useless in combat.
Pet(s): None
Eyes:
Shape- Sinister looking, pointed downward in anger
Color- Glowing green
Size-
Hair: None
Length-
Style-
Color-
Skin Tone: None
Bust Size: Regular
Height: Veries on the lighting
Weight: None
Build: None
Clothes: None
Head -
Upper body -
Lower body -
Feet -
Accessories -
Personality:
Likes – The dark, Tormenting those with interesting fears.
Dislikes - Bright places, other people showing joy,
Basic description - He travels in search of someone in particular. Though he will never find that one person, he still travels hoping that he will have the chance to torture him to the fullest. Rage and disgust fill what is left of his heart for the human race.
He is very sensitive to light and must travel in the shadows of other objects or darkness.
History: He was a solder in an ancient war that was taken captive. He was tortured by one man in attempt to find a tidbit of information that Itzal never knew. Once the man finally decided that Itzal was telling the truth for his first week’s time in captivity, he took Itzal as a personal project/pushpin. Itzal was tortured for another two weeks, three in total, in order to feed the man’s addiction to cause pain to others.
One night Itzal was visited by a devil who gave him an offer he found irresistible. The demon offered to kill him if he agreed to sell his sole to him before he died. Itzal was in too much pain from his worst fears haunting him as torture devices in the soldier’s demented game to think about the offer in deep thought. He gladly accepted the offer and committed a fashion of added suicide.
Past: When Itzal finally died his last vow was that he would find the man that tortured him and return the favor. He regrets that he must live forever, no peace in site. He has traveled almost everywhere by the cover of nightfall and shadows. Although the soldier died in combat during the war, Itzal still searches for him, hoping he had taken been put in such an odd afterlife as himself.
Birth Place: Remton, an ancient city that is now in ruins after the war.
Current Location: Adustren

Name: Pandora

Nickname/Alias: The Nanny

Gender: Female
Age: Appears quite young but is thousands upon thousands of years old.

Type of creature: Mostly physical (touchable) spirit.

Description of type: Think of her as the grim reaper for children's souls.

Occupation: The grim reaper of children's souls.

Weapon(s)/Power(s) of choice: Her mysterious umbrella that appears to be ragged and torn. It certainly doesn't appear to be suitable for usage during any serious rainstorm.

Pet(s): Odd little shadows possessing child like voices and shadows can be seen congregating around her like an external aura.

Eyes:
Shape- Circular/Oval
Color- Icy Blue
Size- Medium-Large (She is often described as a living doll)

Hair:
Length- Mid-Back
Style- Slightly curly
Color- Glossy Jet-Black
Skin Tone: Ghostly pale.
'Generous' breast sizes. A very 'pleasing' question mark or hour class shape.

Height: About five foot seven-nine inches
Weight: Weightless - 138ish
Build: Slim

Clothes:
Head - Nothing. Her hair floats gracefully as if it was perpetually underwater. Sometimes she wears a veil
Body - She wears a large raven coloured ballroom dress reminiscent of the romantic period with her waist tightly bound within a corset. She also wears laced gloves.
Feet - Black High Heels

Personality:
Likes - Quiet. Things falling nicely into place. Is Passive.
Dislikes - Violence. Disorder. Things happening that aren't supposed to happen.


Paragraph description:
She wore a large raven coloured ballroom dress reminiscent of the romantic period with her waist tightly bound within a corset. Her arched back formed a pleasing question mark as she walked with both gloved hands wrapped around a handle of a rather ragged and sagging umbrella. She appeared to have long locks of silky black curly hair that bounced with each graceful step almost as if it was impossible to get wet. Her face seemed to possess an oddly cereal quality as it seemed to be painted a ghostly white. Her lips were full and drawn a luscious black as long inky blotches ran down from her eyes which gave her a rather miserable expression reminiscent of a woman with a broken heart. Truly this strange figure appeared too elegant, too strange to be considered human. Actually, if anything, she appeared to be a walking life-sized doll, a doll that seemed to not understand the concept of colourful outfits. Actually the only colour seemed to come from a curiously crimson rose corsage tied about her left wrist and from her mysteriously icy blue eyes.