|Lord Dimitri Petrov|
Shadowy onyx vestments of tribute are coupled proudly with the deep red robes of his profession. A fragment of silver is pinned to the latter, hewn into a rudimentary star that's cradled within the curve of a crescent moon; it's tiny enough that a glimmer of light refracted from its surface would catch the eye before it, alone, would. The fastenings of both robes are left undone to reveal his bared torso, displaying lean muscles built through finesse as opposed to brute strength. An irregular and nearly circular long-healed scar marks a past puncture below the lowermost ribs.
Ordinary in terms of height, his relaxed posture brings him just shy of six feet tall. Pants dark as coal hug his narrow, sturdy hips and descend to drape loosely about his legs. Eyes as blue as the ocean are nearly lost beneath the tumultuous curls allowed to grow wild, a stark contrast to the carefully groomed beard his square chin sports. His facial features are pleasantly symmetrical except for his grin, which is purposefully slanted. The strong nose that adorns his face is pointed and narrow with a slight upturn at the end. His slender fingered hands have a distinct lack of calluses, hinting that he hasn't completed a day of rigorous labor in quite some time - if ever.
A green silk bracelet dangles from his right wrist. Around his neck is a shell necklace with a weathered surface. Engraved onto the pearly luster is the letter 'D'. Slung round his shoulders, the shimmering cloak is held fast in place by a clasp spun from spider's silk and adorned with a blue flower.
His every step is hubristic.
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