Darius

His bearing was as regal as his name. The Persian kings of the past would have been proud to have him bear their moniker. Long strides, long lines, long lashes - he was long. The deep sepia of his skin made everything around him seem dull and lifeless, as if he was his own Technicolor feature and the rest of the world was just a silent film. The golden glow of his hazel eyes was just one more nod to the crown that you would expect to adorn his close-cropped hair. The velvety timbre of his voice hypnotized even the most unwilling of people.

He was an undeniably masculine presence that never felt threatening, even though his body suggested he could follow through on any threat he made. He was a modest Krishna, a dark-skinned Adonis, but also more than just a beautiful statue to be gawked at and admired. His passion was evident, as long as the subject was right - math or the need for a more diverse bank of superheroes so all little kids can feel represented. He had never met a stranger and was a master of the dying art of face to face conversation. 

A crooked smile always promised mischievous fun. Of course, that may have been his downfall in the end.