This varjellen looks much like others of its kind - violet-red skin, yellow eyes, a tall crest atop its head. This one appears to have chosen a male form for now. It - he - wears thin lenses over his eyes and some strange device encircles his head, with weighted attachments dangling at the ends of long straps. His calloused, pointed fingertips are stained, and his garments are unkempt and in disarray. Ioxu has been trying to understand the Bloom for years, earning its unending contempt. Were it not for the automaton that came to him and offered its services in return for a memory wipe, he would have been consumed long ago.
