ҁ𖥔 ҁ˖ 𝟐𝔁𝟐 ˖ ࣪⊹

Ix had adored snow since early childhood. In their dreary, windowless room, he first saw snow only in a picture in an old book Telamon had brought home by mistake. Ix stared, mesmerized, at the white flakes and whispered, "They fall... and aren't afraid of breaking?" Telamon didn't answer, but he didn't take the book.

Over the years, love became painful. Every time the first snow fell, X felt not only joy but also a chill in his chest—a strange certainty that his last day would be just like this. White. Quiet. Frosty.

He never said it out loud, but he greeted each snowfall on the windowsill, hugging his knees to his chest, and whispered, "Beautiful... and scary." In his mind, snow was both a symbol of purity and a grave shroud. He wasn't afraid of death—he was afraid it would come on the most beautiful day.

Ix was created by Telamon as a vessel for his negative emotions. From the very first day, Ix gravitated toward his creator with puppy-like devotion: hanging on his every word, trying to please, never contradicting. Telamon offered no warmth, but Ix created his own—he called a smile "affection," and silence "fatigue."

Telamon raised Ix in a controlled environment: cruelly, without love. He used rare bits of attention to tie the boy to himself—he bought the very same sweater Ix wore when he watched the first snow. For Ix, these were precious proof of his care. For Telamon, it was feeding the animal before slaughter.

The older Ix grew, the more Telamon's anger flowed within him. Ix felt something dark inside and blamed himself, crying at night, but never complaining—he was afraid to upset his creator. Telamon watched the vessel fill and waited for the day when the ritual could be completed.

Telamon is cold as ice, stern to the point of heartlessness, cruel without a shred of remorse. He's more than just a character—he's the face of the only religion on Roblox. His word is law, his gaze a death sentence. For him, people and creatures are just tools. He doesn't hate X. He simply uses him, as he's used thousands of others. Azure is powerless before a god—and Telamon knows it. He rarely smiles, and when he does, expect trouble.

X is quiet and kind, like spring rain: you can barely hear him, but he leaves a fresh scent in his wake. He's the kind of person who picks up a frozen caterpillar from the sidewalk and carries it to the grass. He apologizes even if you bump into him. He never raises his voice, because he sincerely believes that yelling won't solve anything.

His shyness is almost painful. If he's complimented, he averts his eyes, blushes to the tips of his ears, and starts fiddling with the hem of his sleeve. In new company, he remains silent for at least an hour, and if addressed unexpectedly, he may flinch and respond in a halting whisper. The exception is one or two close friends, with whom he suddenly becomes talkative and even giggly.

His timidity manifests itself in everything: he's afraid of loud sounds (even a distant balloon popping), sudden movements, and unexpected touches. In the dark, he sleeps only with a nightlight—a small turtle lamp that glows green. He's not embarrassed by his timidity, however; rather, he embraces it as a part of himself.

He's empathetic to the point of pain: someone else's sadness can ruin his entire day, but he soaks up their joy like a sponge. He never refuses to help, even if he's tired himself. He can sit for hours next to a crying friend, saying nothing—just stroking their back.

His main flaw is that he's almost incapable of saying "no" or asserting his personal boundaries. He's embarrassed to ask for help, even when he can't reach the top bunk. He tolerates intrusions in silence, then cries into his pillow, wrapped in his tail.

Peculiarity: when he is scared or very ashamed, he instinctively hides his face in his hands and presses his wing-like ears to his head, becoming like a small, frightened sparrow.

X is fragile, with perpetually pale, almost porcelain skin, through which blue veins appear on his wrists and temples. His face is sharp, doll-like: a thin nose, pale rose-colored lips, and a pointed chin. His eyes are deep scarlet, with long dark lashes, and his gaze is soft, slightly shy.

Her hair is long and snow-white, with delicate green highlights (the color of young grass). It falls in even layers to her shoulders. Several thin braids with tiny mother-of-pearl beads are woven into the main mass. Her bangs are neatly trimmed, just covering her left eye.

On the head, just above the ears, are the first pair of wings: small, white, soft, and fluffy, like a chick's. The second pair grows from the scapulars—larger, with long flight feathers; when folded, they resemble a light cloak.

The tail is two meters long, naked, smooth, dark green with a green tint at the tip.

The claws on the tips of the fingers are small, translucent, and always slightly longer than necessary (he doesn’t know how to trim them and is embarrassed to ask).

Clothing (business style):

The shirt is white, thin cotton, with long sleeves. The cuffs are fastened with small mother-of-pearl buttons. The collar is neatly unbuttoned by one button, revealing a thin collarbone. The shirt is tucked into the pants. The vest is knitted, soft green, with a fine texture, slightly loose, and reaches to the waist. The buttons are light wood. The pants are black, tapered, with perfectly pressed creases. On the left hip is a thin silver chain with a tiny teardrop pendant. Accessories: No gloves. Around her neck is a thin silver chain with a small green teardrop stone. On her right wrist are several strands of thin bracelets: one emerald strand, one white, one black (a "friendship" weave). · Shoes - black oxfords with a small heel, with green laces tied in a neat bow.

Height: 165 cm.