Information

Azulen
Legacy Name: Azulen

The Bloodred Kumos
Owner: SgtJess

Age: 15 years, 4 weeks

Born: May 11th, 2011

Adopted: 15 years, 4 weeks ago

Adopted: May 11th, 2011

Statistics

• Level: 2
   
• Strength: 10
   
• Defense: 11
   
• Speed: 10
   
• Health: 10
   
• HP: 10/10
   
• Intelligence: 0
   
• Books Read: 0
• Food Eaten: 0
• Job: Unemployed

i guess you never thought eternal youth was possiblebut azulin here proves that point wrong. born 1918 he made a deal with the devil eighteen years later for eternal youth. at a cost: his soul and the lives of others. evil men who he would have to kill and recruit into his newfound master's growing army. despite this he has never been good at his job and tends to be a bit of a wuss at times, but makes up for it with his smart mouth he got from growing up in new york. azu is a narcolpetic as well and will fall asleep at random intervals, even when he's right in the middle of explaining something. whenever he's up there is always a cigarette in his mouth and he always acts spacy and a bit dumb. another problem he has is he's currently being chased by a monster bounty hunter from the 18th century who has him at the top of her hit list.


It was always supposed to be a quick job that would earn his immortality. Get in, get out, get paid. Live as long as he frickin' wanted.

But it took longer than promised.

So far, it had been sixty years since he made that deal with the devil. Sold his goddamn soul just for the sake of living forever. Now it was 1996. The large, bulky figure sat outside the abandoned ruins of Prypiat, Ukraine. The sky was a milky pink with splashes of auburn, and the sun was a giant fireball on the horizon, almost completely blocked by the giant, crumbling building. His eyes looked out from behind brown fringe, over his long muzzle. It was close to time when he'd have to move in, silent, deadly, let his senses take over and slaughter the vandals that had entered the helpless ghost town.

Azulin gripped the cigarette in his teeth with his thumb and index finger and pressed it against the pavement which he sat on. Psss. That was the sound it made when the hot ash met the cold hardened tar. The animal stood up and let his long, furry tail brush over the ground as he walked. The snow crunched beneath his paws, freezing his pads. But he hardly even noticed. He was merely following the footprints of three teenage boys that had entered an hour before to vandalize, smoke, and drink. It was beyond disrespectful.

And they weren't very hard to find.

You could hear them from a mile away. Shouting and laughing obnoxiously with each other, spraying different paints across the wall and shrieking in Russian at one another. He moved straight through a high radioactive area, hardly getting even dizzy when the stench and energy hit him. But somehow the kids weren't far off. He blinked slowly and trudged forward, hands stuffed into the pockets of his gray jacket as he came upon a small, abandoned house. The door had been ripped off its hinges and the driveway was overgrown with weeds. The windows were almost nonexistant; just shards of glass stuck around the edges. He could see shadows moving around on the inside.

Azu leaned around the doorframe and looked inside. There were three boys. All looked to be about seventeen. One was dressed garishly, a messy green mohawk and tattered black and gray clothing, as if he thought punk was still alive. The devil's lips curled back into a snarl and he stepped inside. One of them turned to face him and their eyes widened. His eyes glinted behind his bangs. Everything left his head. All he knew now was he had to kill.

Kill.

The word always rolled off his tongue perfectly, the single syllable smooth and flowing. Such a short yet beautiful word. Like the sweetest pastry he had ever had the fortune of tasting. Like a speeding bullet he was on the first teenager, his fist slamming a hole right in their chest. Blood and shattered bone erupted from the boy's impaled body and stained along his gray sleeve, the liquid matting the brown fur beneath. He loved the feeling.

The other two were beginning to start towards the door, but he got there first, snarling at them with long, yellow fangs. They skidded back and he was on the next in a second, ripping his arm right from its socket and dismembering it. Blood squirted from the stump and the boy screamed, stumbling back and sobbing, tears soaking his dirty face. Azu paused. He'd let him go. He'd either die from blood loss or make it, and people would think his story was crazy. As the boy fled he turned to the one that seemed to be the instigator of the little "party". Grunting, he slinked forward and grabbed the boy quickly by the face. The teenager shouted in protest, squirming and shrieking and crying.

Azu began screaming right back, in a language almost no one knew, jaws snapping with each word, saliva dripping from his fangs and lips. His claws dragged down the boy's cheeks and left bloody marks in their wake. The boy grabbed his left arm and tried to yank it off, but to no avail. His hind paw went up, right in between the boy's legs. The teen's screaming died to gasping and whimpering. He'd be a good soldier for hell... Azulin grinned slowly and gave the victim a look he reserved only for a man's last moments. Then he jerked his grip to the side and there was a wet cracking noise as the boy's neck snapped and blood spurted from his mouth. The dead teen's eyes rolled back in his head and his body slumped into a crumpled heap on the floor.

Without a word the devil turned and exited, blood staining across his fur and clothing and leaving tracks in the white snow. He could see a trail of the crimson liquid following footprints from where the now one-armed boy had fled. Then his senses came back and he sighed, pulling another cigarette from his pocket and lighting it. After taking a long drag he released the smoke from his nostrils and watched it float lazily into the bright blue sky.

How much longer...

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