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Description

Before you stands a uncanny attraction, a heathen of leather and buckles yet draped in cloth that barely covers his degenerative beauty. A drow or half elf by his grayish cream appearance is asked in your mind. What a horrendous contradiction is he. Dressed dastardly and belted with daggers but fastenings without use dangle in the shape of hearts, his swaying hips shameless allowing view to his thighs yet around his unmentionable region does the linen bundle yet hang tightly to give bare minimum modesty.

"What do you want from me? What shall I do? Swing from the ceiling, flip off the walls, or lay at your behest? If not me for you then do something for me? Fall, be butchered, be defiled and violated in grace. Spill blood till your veins run dry, spew your guts and defecate your tongue. Crawl on your elbows and bend your back forward. Let me cleave you, beat you, break you and reap you..oh you and the seeds you have sown..for the sake of the seeds plucked I sowed long ago...bleed for the Scythe and moon of which I was shadow."-Vega.

They called it, “Vega,” which means, “He shall be exalted."

Vega, the Concubinus of the moon. A blinded dark elf who in his Medierth was his namesake title to Sayeth, a walking contradiction. Slow and sensual yet fierce and brutal, coy and cocky, yet stern and straight laced. His bondage like attire bordering that of a rogue and a pleasure slave, his nimble lithe frame offset by his heavy foot and handed movements, a morbid and grotesque yet eloquent articulation that is spoken in seductive poetry. His otherwise unthreatening appearance at odds with the fearsome scythe he wields, the impracticality of such a weapon opposite to his deadly skill with it. At odds and at one with himself, yet an enemy to those who dare be on the opposite side. Worthy of his aspect, opposition.

Description

Before you stands a uncanny attraction, a heathen of leather and buckles yet draped in cloth that barely covers his degenerative beauty. A drow or half elf by his grayish cream appearance is asked in your mind. What a horrendous contradiction is he. Dressed dastardly and belted with daggers but fastenings without use dangle in the shape of hearts, his swaying hips shameless allowing view to his thighs yet around his unmentionable region does the linen bundle yet hang tightly to give bare minimum modesty.

"What do you want from me? What shall I do? Swing from the ceiling, flip off the walls, or lay at your behest? If not me for you then do something for me? Fall, be butchered, be defiled and violated in grace. Spill blood till your veins run dry, spew your guts and defecate your tongue. Crawl on your elbows and bend your back forward. Let me cleave you, beat you, break you and reap you..oh you and the seeds you have sown..for the sake of the seeds plucked I sowed long ago...bleed for the Scythe and moon of which I was shadow."-Vega.

They called it, “Vega,” which means, “He shall be exalted."

Vega, the Concubinus of the moon. A blinded dark elf who in his Medierth was his namesake title to Sayeth, a walking contradiction. Slow and sensual yet fierce and brutal, coy and cocky, yet stern and straight laced. His bondage like attire bordering that of a rogue and a pleasure slave, his nimble lithe frame offset by his heavy foot and handed movements, a morbid and grotesque yet eloquent articulation that is spoken in seductive poetry. His otherwise unthreatening appearance at odds with the fearsome scythe he wields, the impracticality of such a weapon opposite to his deadly skill with it. At odds and at one with himself, yet an enemy to those who dare be on the opposite side. Worthy of his aspect, opposition.