Profile of Jupiter

Tall and lean, though with no small amount of muscle built upon him. Graceful and still powerful, he wears the mask of his father and the coat of his mother. Dressed in shades of chocolate and blue-black, with swarths of cream that line his cheekbones and trace his jawline, all offset by eyes that are an acrid, acidic blend of the two wild beauties-- the venomous green of his mother surrounding a deep blue-violet of his father--though one eye is paler and glazed, glassy as there is a partial blindness that has set in. A vest of warm, deep brown runs over his shoulders and wraps around his neck, though he wears a cape of blue-black, and boots to match. Bright, cream eyespots settle over his brows and stand out within the deep grey-black mask of his face. He takes more after his mother in the facial structure, with high, wide cheekbones and an almost defiant beauty to the length of it all, tapering and elegant. Silken and fine, his fur has a baby-soft feel to it, causing a broken sillhouette, covered in threads and wisps that catch the water and wind gives him a constantly ruffled appearance. There is a frailty to him, an almost ephemeral look to his person as if theres the threat he'll crumble into dust at a gust of wind despite the strength in the lines of his form.

Cunning and rash, he both desires deep companionship and still loathes it. The company of others is his deepest desire but his greatest fear, and so he pushes and pulls like the tide. Obsessive and drawn to perfection, there is no shortage of things can set off his internal alarms. There is something unsettling about him--an uncertainty behind his eyes. But an intelligence that may border on madness. Passionate and furious in it, he is nothing less than a torrent of aspects that blend into a garbled, beautiful mess. Entrancing, and petrifying. Youthful, but aged in a way that seems unworldly. The spirits he sees and listens to, the ones that dance in the corners of his vision--those are the ones that whisper and drive him to action--both order and discourse in equal measure. Possessed with a curious mania, he struggles to make sense of the world and it's peculiarities, and where he fits in it all. Despite the grace of his form, he seems forever unfamiliar with it, like a child unable to fit into his own skin. He is curious and confused both in equal measure, unsure of the intricacies of the soul and spirit and the entranced in the beauty of the body and it's anatomy.

A wildwood witch of a mother who's person and mind were both lost in the deep woods. An enigmatic and mercurial father who's one foot was in the world of spirits and souls while the other was planted in the lost world of the living. A chance union to create the lost children. Maybe his soul got lost on the way to the other world and he's ended up here?