Profile
Name: Lumen, an ironic little moniker
Actual name: Some horrific amalgam of sounds or other
Age: None
Gender: None
Vessel gender: Male
Alignment: Neutral
Lumen is a sentinel entrapped. A great big dimensional serpent, or whatever the cremated ashes of those would be called, the creature was cast into exile from their world and imprisoned on Earth. The realm is foreign and inhospitable to them, as one would expect from a planet labelled dangerous and unpreservable. Used for foul and corrupt exiled waste nowadays. Lumen's sentencing was supposed to be their death. But the creature had been gaunt and sucked dry, made smaller in size by celestial consumption, and thusly managed to squeeze its less-than-unfathomable dimensions within a human fleshsuit as soon as they found one.
Big WIP
Trivia:
- current appearance: up for debate and subject to change
- The sound of their kin's native primordial tongue inspires insanity within the human mind and most unfortunate listeners desperately seek to escape the hellish gurgle of noise in any way possible, sometimes even at the expense of their own lives.
- Their form is, ironically, pure white, often confused for the essence of light. It is not. That's what it looks like when their current vessels rip and leak - white, glowing liquid.
- No concept of morality or emotions. Lumen is inherently unfamiliar with things unnecessary in a hierarchal group of higher beings far removed from societal expectations. They follow a celestial law, not whatever mortals call their 'heart', an organ Lumen does not possess. The slightest transgression or affront could lead to one's expulsion from the skies.
- Though, in their current predicament, Lumen does try to learn through those they consume, gathering their memories, thoughts and emotions like a library of human manuals.
- Decidedly trying to piss off their jailers, forcing them to open the cellblock even a smidge so the exiled creature can slither out.
