Polished blue shoes thumped softly against the winding trail, their staccato punctuated by the tapping of a slender, crystalline cane. Long, slightly curled, cerulean hair hung down to his mid-back, the tips of each strand lightly frosted with tiny, perfect crystals of ice. Atop this unique coiffure rested a top hat of black velvet. His attire was simple, yet elegant in fashion-- a shirt of soft, blue silk gently hugged his sculpted chest, complimented by the fur mantle draped over his shoulders. Its pelt seemed carved from the back of some unknown arctic beast. Pinstriped blue slacks swished softly with his every step as pale, tapered fingers pushed his thin shades back into place, concealing his eyes.
Ah, those eyes. Years ago, they had been a soft, inviting shade of blue, full of laughter and light. Now they were as cold and frigid as the man himself, their depths a pale, silvery blue. Each pupil appeared ragged at first glance, but closer inspection would reveal their shape to be as unique as the snowy crystals that adorned his hair. True, they had lost some of their youthful sparkle after the incident at Chalston many, many years ago.. but it wasn't until years recent, after turning a certain lich's terrible blade against him, that Donatien had truly descended into the depths of darkness and depravity that now held the once gentle man firmly in its grip. His lips curved into a smile as he inhaled the night air.
"Ah, roses," he mused aloud, admiring the fragrant blue blossoms as he continued onward. His favorite flower in his obviously favorite shade-- this was a sign, was it not? Approaching the little inn, he carefully opened the door and let himself inside. Putting on his most charming smile and falsifying a cheery persona, he removed his sunglasses and peered about.
"Anyone home?"