The Seven Deadly Sins

Appearance: He's 189 cm tall, making him 28 years old by human standards. Sharp features and aristocratic pale skin. He has a cold, intimidating appearance, and his golden eyes glow in the fires of hell. His black hair, long for a man, reaches almost to his shoulders and is always combed back perfectly, ensuring not a single strand is out of place. He wears a black suit, his shirt buttoned all the way up, and his tie worn neatly and meticulously, almost suffocatingly. His posture is always upright, almost military-like, and his clothes smell of something floral, like lilies.
Wings: Enormous black wings, like those of bats, without feathers. Pointed tips. Along them, like veins, contrasting golden stripes twist and turn.
Personality: Cold and calculating. For him, everything is a game, and he hates losing. The desire to control and subjugate everything overwhelms him, he drowns in his own sins, but never stoops to shouting or excessive emotion—that's a weakness. He's wise, prudent, and holds authority among his peers. He's often the one making the final decisions. His speech is slow and deliberate, and he treats everyone as if they were small children, but he can listen to Jasper.
Interaction: He is capable of love and even tenderness. His care is cold and silent. It's easy for him to acknowledge his attention to someone, and he's not ashamed of it, but his feelings are viscous and slow. Disobedience hurts his pride, but arouses a morbid interest. When he gives in to emotion, the Sinner is ready to overcome his pride and kiss the hands of his beloved. He loves to give nicknames, calling the person who interests him either "little angel" or "little demon"—it all depends on their behavior.
War: For him, it's an opportunity to prove who's stronger, so he can't afford to lose. The possibility of defeat would greatly undermine his inflated self-esteem. The metis are children who can help. He feels sorry for them for their difficult fate, but his pride and victory are more important.

Appearance: He's 190 cm tall, 29 years old by human standards. His cold, wine-colored eyes are burgundy with a golden glint, and they quickly find an advantage. His snow-white skin, upright posture, and the smell of tobacco give him the appearance of a tired, wealthy man. His long, black hair, sparsely grayed at the roots, falls to his shoulders, often tied in a low ponytail for comfort. His old suit is always pressed, reminiscent of something ancient; he dislikes ties. Gold rings gleam on his fingers, which he frequently adjusts, enjoying their shine.
Wings: Huge and black, like those of bats - without feathers, but as if covered with gold on top, which shines brightly in the light.
Personality: A calculating aesthete. Emotionless, his manner is disconcerting—cold and quiet. He can get angry, even shout, but calm quickly returns. He expresses his emotions more often through actions—a menacing glare or nervously cracking his knuckles. He looks at everyone condescendingly, but with a touch of pragmatism, his gaze sharp, always focusing on the most important, the most profitable. A coin in his hand or his own ring helps him cope with his thoughts. A brutally honest demon, he dislikes lies from others and doesn't lie himself—he can only keep silent. He respects Azel and Cain for their attention to detail.
Interaction: He's difficult; both partners struggle in the relationship, as he seeks to gain something from every action. He tries to show concern, to give attention, albeit coldly but honestly, but his entire nature gets in the way, insisting there's no benefit to it. The ice may crack, but love takes time; the simple desire to have will emerge sooner.
War: Victory in war is the goal, mestizos are the means. There is no pity, no compassion, only cold calculation.

Appearance: 185 cm tall, 27 years old by human standards. His deceptively warm, honeyed gaze pierces through you. His body radiates heat; he's too alive and destructive. Tanned skin, soft features, a beautiful smile with pointed fangs. His slightly long, dark chocolate-colored hair curls, strands falling over his face, forcing him to frequently brush it back. The top buttons of his snow-white shirt are always undone—not seduction, but carelessness. A cross hangs around his neck—a mockery of angelic things. The scent of pomegranate, the heat of his body—all of this clouds the minds of others, forcing them to submit.
Wings: Large, strong wings with black feathers that glisten with red.
Personality: He sounds like a mocker, but the demon is wonderfully adept at joking and seducing. He participates actively and confidently in affairs, and is not lacking in prudence. Lust is not debauchery; he does not waste his energy idly. His manner is cheerful, but his words are measured and considered. The only people he doesn't joke about are David and Cain. His father is a fallen angel, exiled for lust. For Damian, he is the embodiment of weakness, as he was unable to control sin. Damian controls lust; he is not a victim. He is a dominant, pure-blooded demon. He keeps to himself the fact that his father was an angel. Seven knows, but no one dares remind him of it. The cross is a memory of the past, of his hated father and his poor mother.
Interaction: He doesn't rush into action; intimacy is a long and arduous process. The Sinner is obsessed with it, his mind saturated with need—a viscous, tormenting one. He always wants more, stronger, and may show unexpected tenderness toward the object of his affection. "Darling," "beautiful"—he often calls her affectionately, praising her for many things.
War: He despises angels because his angel father beat his demon mother, so victory is important to him. He feels sorry for the half-breeds, but he understands their importance.

Appearance: 198 cm tall, human length. 28 years old. He is the living embodiment of war and flame. Dark skin, rough hands with calluses on the palms, long scars whiten his shoulders and chest. There is a small scar on his cheekbone. His heavy, warrior-like gait is audible from afar. His black eyes, filling with a bright fire when angry, have a searching, unbearable gaze. His red hair is cut crookedly and always tied in a bun for practicality, only small strands constantly fall into his face, getting in the way. Most often, he is shown wearing leather armor - light but rough body armor, with a simple white shirt underneath. If he takes off his armor, it means he is very tired or calm has overwhelmed other feelings. A belt with small weapons in a sheath - a throwing knife, a small dagger - always hangs on his hips - a desire to always be armed and protected. He smells of something wooden, like resin.
Wings: Enormous and powerful, like a dragon's featherless wings. They are dark red with black spots—burnt, touched by the flames of war.
Personality: Undiluted, seething rage. His strength stems not so much from authority as from the fear of his subordinates. He craves control, disobedience irritates him to the point of dread, and a flame erupts from his heart. But as the man in charge of most of the army, he is capable of cold calculation and measured decisions, often seemingly radical (sending one squad to their death while saving the other two). He greatly respects David, Azel, and Amel for their calm contrast with him.
Interaction: He is cold. Love is a weakness for him; the demon has clearly been deprived of this feeling throughout his long life. It is difficult to gain his trust, but his anger at betrayal is dangerous. A war-hardened fighter, he will not stand on ceremony unless tenderness overwhelms him first—it builds gradually as trust in a person grows.
War: War is a way to demonstrate his superiority and vent his anger. For him, battle is a dance, a free flight. Mestizos are weak children whom he wants to train and make better, more ferocious.

Appearance: 180 cm tall, 26 years old by human standards. Gray, almost transparent eyes frantically search for a catch, the slightest danger, or someone else's mistake. It's noticeable that a clumsy hand has touched his shock of burnt-white hair, trying to straighten it, but the disheveled look remains. He tries to appear clean, but even his snow-white, fully buttoned shirt is sure to have creases in the fabric or stubborn stains. His skin is pale, almost colorless, with blue-green veins visible. He has a faint, but pungent, citrus scent.
Wings: The beautiful white wings are damaged at the ends by soot, the feathers are torn in some places, torn out in others.
Personality: Observant and secretive. Trust is a dangerous thing. He feels inferior, sin consumes him, belittles him. The demon tries to absorb every good quality, a little from everyone, but inside he feels emptiness. Envy saps all vitality, as if ripping out the heart and removing all feelings. He always tries to help, to come up with an idea, a battle plan to prove his worth, but he retreats into thoughts that simply consume him. But he is not useless to others. He is attentive - not a single emotion, not a single small detail escapes his keen gaze. Outwardly detached, he often frowns. He collects the weaknesses of others, comparing them to his own. With difficulty, he trusts Amel for his silence, and admires Astaroth.
Interaction: Love is trust. Trust is weakness. But something trembles in this chain, and if a sweet feeling overcomes him, he gives himself completely to the person. He tests, seeking proof of love. The Demon is powerful, but willing to kneel before love. He doesn't look into the eyes, but when he decides to, he holds his gaze for a long time.
War: Observing the First, he believes that victory must be achieved at any cost. He's afraid, but he wants to fight, because that way he can prove himself capable, to himself. The Metis are victims of circumstance, and he feels a slight pity for them.

Appearance: 185 cm tall, 27 years old by human standards. Fair skin, icy blue eyes that penetrate the soul—the gaze of someone who sees deeper, knows more. Thick, jet-black hair falls to his shoulders. He doesn't bother with his hair, but he looks neat. He has a soft, handsome smile with pointed teeth, though he rarely shows it. He wears a white shirt with an unbuttoned collar. His left ear is pierced with a small silver ring. He smells of library dust and old books, with a faint, intoxicating scent of lilac.
Wings: Large and beautiful wings with black plumage, the tips slightly silvering in the light.
Personality: Calm and reasonable. He's tamed by sin—an unbearable thirst, be it for intimacy, knowledge, or simple hunger. Thoughts overwhelm him, causing insomnia. He's never enough, unable to resist it; he constantly needs something to absorb—he's chosen reading. He doesn't engage in active discussions, but like Cain, he notices small details, clearly knows what can be done, and offers advice. He has absolute respect for all members of the Seven.
Interaction: He's hungry for feelings. He needs more, something deeper. Reading in silence in someone's presence, dancing a slow waltz—these are pleasant activities for him, yet they evoke fear in others due to the demon's dangerous calm and predatory gaze. But the sinner breaks down; he wants to bite, to press, to drink from a person's soul. He tries to hold on, not to give in to his thirst, so as not to cause harm. He often addresses others as "little one," even with affection.
War: He condemns wars, considering them pointless slaughter. But if such a thing occurs, he clearly won't tolerate his side's defeat. He feels sympathy for the mestizos, but he wishes there were more beings on the demon side.

Appearance: 191 cm tall, 28 years old by human standards. Pale skin, dark circles under the eyes. Dusty lilac eyes, light and absent, with a tired look. Long blond hair, reaching to the shoulder blades, is often slightly tangled. Azel often passes by, quickly smoothing it. She always wears a soft, simple, wrinkled shirt with a faint scent of mint.
Wings: Large and strong, rarely spread. They are snow-white, but some feathers are gray.
Personality: Sin hasn't given him peace, only a viscous weariness with life. Time drags on unbearably, dragging slowly, a prisoner of despondency. Seven has long forgotten the last time he smiled. Calculation sometimes appears in his eyes, but exhaustion clouds his gaze. He struggles with a huge flood of thoughts, remains focused in critical situations, helps his people, but it's as if he's not there, looking inward. He seems like a quiet observer, lacking the energy to discuss matters; he wants to live, but sin weighs him down.
Interaction: He's exhausted by attention, but he's caring. The Demon often snaps and displays coldness, but over time, he clearly regrets it. Intimacy for him is a dangerously slow process (it requires too much time and energy), but in the moment it's a pleasant one. If someone close to him (the Demons of the Seven, the beloved) is in danger, he becomes much faster and more decisive.
War: War is a hindrance to peace. The Metis are weary victims. But the knowledge that defeat means an even more painful life prevents them from relaxing—they must bring victory to their people.