Sarkany

Name: Sarkany

Species: Seraph
Gender: Male
Age: Physical: 34 | Actual: 3000, give or take a few centuries.
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 149 lbs


Personality:
    Laid-back: Sarkany exists in a perpetual state of quiet lounging. He rarely seems to take things seriously, and most commotions are usually waved away or outright ignored. 

    Observant: Although he never seems to be paying any real attention, he doesn't miss much. Be careful what kind of stupid things you do or say around him, because he'll probably peg you for it later.

    Sarcastic: A snide remark or two is usually about as far as he'll involve himself in most situations. He has a tendency to tease those he feels safe or comfortable around, though he knows when to keep his mouth shut.

    Confident: He knows exactly what his strengths and limits are, and is practiced at evaluating others. If he's unsure, he generally won't act.

    Perfectionist: When he does take it in his mind to do something seriously, he will pursue the task methodically and relentlessly until it meets his complete satisfaction. Whether that task is a leisurely book or a thorough thrashing, there is very little that can distract him once he's gotten started.

Combat:
    He's a patient, analytical fighter with a slight proud streak. Expect some taunting and condescension if he's not impressed. He believes in an even fight, which can mean either meeting weaker foes at their own level, or booking it out of there when he's noticeably outmatched. In moments of true anger or duress, he drops all play and pretense in favor of ruthless efficiency.  

Abilities:
  Sarkany commands seven spells, which he can combine to create various effects on himself or things he directly contacts. Spells must be spoken to take effect.
        Rul (flesh)
        To (mind)
        Lus (barrier)
        Wis (pale)
        Loi(waver)
        Hwar (flare)
        Aht (stop)      

    He is also slightly resistant to time and space manipulation. Attempts to teleport him usually result in unintended destinations, and while he can't prevent someone meddling with his timeline, he will always be aware of the alterations.

    The wings come out in situations of extreme danger. Composed of a dark substance resembling rags or tendrils more than actual feathers, they appear to act independently of his wishes and do pretty much everything but fly.

Role: 
  Professional hobo.

Misc:
(I'm looking to gradually build up a sound profile for his natural form.)
Territorial call