Crowley

Crowley

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  "I am the creature slithering into your window in the dead of night."

  
  

  ...

  Kindred Identity: Crowley Human Name: Sybil Henderson Alias: The Siren Herd Title: Lady of the Dark Demeanor / Mask: Monster Nature / Dirge: ???

  Species: Supernatural Type: Vampire Clan: Nosferatu Bloodline: Unknown Virtue: Patience Vice: Envy

  Birth: 1477 AD Death: 1502 AD Generation: 5th Age: 514 (Since Embrace) Origin: 16th Century Bohemia Current Haven: Siberia

  
  

  "I am the beast under your bed, lying in wait."

  
  

  Gender: Female Height: 6 ft 2 in Weight: 173 lbs Body Type: Mesomorph Body Shape: Hourglass Gait: Languid, methodical Stance: Relapsing predator

  Hair Color: Black Fake Eye Color: Icy Blue True Eye Color: Red Frenzy Eye Color: Black Stare: Unsettling, distant Voice: Cold, monotone Scent: Sweet spices, hint of copper

  
  

  "I am the monster that appears in your nightmares."

  
  Striking Looks: She possesses a very unusual, Siren-like beauty, to the point of stunning.
  Aura of Despair: An air of sorrow follows her. Her face is stuck in a statuesque expression, unblinking, unchanging. It's entirely unnerving.
  Unsettling Gaze: She possesses a stare that unsettles her target deeply. Gaze too long into her eyes and you might find your mind slipping away...
  Dread Presence: Everything around her feels wrong in her presence. Colder, more distant. Those in her presence get the sense that someone’s watching them, even when they’re otherwise alone.
  
  

  "I am the fear that you never forget."

  
  
  
  
  
  

  WIP

  She stalks at 6'2''. Taller than some, but you'll be lucky to notice her when she doesn't want you to. She probably stands out in a crowd, that being said, because of her height and the way she tends to loom over people.
  
  You would be hard-pressed to find a shade of pure onyx black darker than that of her hair.
  
  Among the company of humans, her eyes show a hue of pale blue. She blends in quite nicely. However, if she feels like revealing her true nature at any given time, they turn crimson. On the hunt, they flare a near-scarlet shade. Consider yourself lucky to be alive if you manage to see them in frenzy. As the Beast takes over, a darkness will creep over them, until eventually they become completely consumed in black.
  
  
  
  The gait of a hunter in relapse. Languid and methodical. She places every step with care. Her stance holds subdued anxiety as though she is lying in wait for something to happen.
  
  
  Often times it will seem like she is looking past someone, but when she does actually settle her eyes on them, it is slightly unsettling.