[/ambrogio. carlo. "k". nuncio./] ;wand.] \unf\

To say the least, Ambrogio did not always look entirely demonic. As a small boy, he had even been given such compliments as being cute and adorable, neither of which he believed, seeing as though they came from many wealthy men and women, whose only intentions were to score a point with the dear boy's mother, Cassandra. As the years progressed, he became exasperated with the false enthusiasm, and worked to make himself hideous beyond belief. He began by applying a fine layer of his mother's foundation, transforming his skin complexion entirely, from a creamy tan to a ghastly pale, fit for a vampire. And though the type of work he needed done on himself required a professional surgeon, there simply weren't many people willing, as in the Capitol. However, he made an under-the-table deal with a local doctor, who specialized in black market face alterations.

Setting up an appointment at the local salon, a mere two days before the scheduled surgery with Dr. Jorgins, Ambrogio arrived ten minutes earlier, all the better to fully describe his preferences to the elderly woman. An hour went by. Then another, before he was told to stand, and take a look at himself in the mirror. What he saw made himself giddy with excitement, yet gasp in horror, all at once. Where his hair had once been soft and brown, it was now stringy and black, tussled by the various oils rubbed in. Where it had been shoulder-length and lush, it now reached only the nape of his neck, where it curled at the edge. Split ends were found everywhere, something he wasn't entirely familiar with, yet enjoyed all the same. Needless to say, the woman had done exactly what he had wanted, and then some. She received a large tip, and a congratulations on a job well done.

Waking bright and early the next day, he hustled down to the corner office, where the balding doctor was waiting, machines displayed in every corner of the room. It was only moments later he fell into a deep sleep, under influence of Anesthetics, and the doctor was at work, manipulating the features of his face.

Upon waking, and, once again, taking a peek in the mirror, Ambrogio found himself wary of excitement, feeling nothing but horror. He was unrecognizable. The doctor had started with his eyes.
Where one pupil remained the emerald shade his mother had always adored, the other had little to no pupil at all, and the small space remaining no longer ran in a circle, as the average eye. Vertical, they gave the impression of a snake. The whites of his eyes took up a large space, and if they themselves hadn't been manipulated, than he must have been given some contacts, the fabled seeing-glass only available to the wealthiest of people. They were ghastly, yet remarkable at once. They spoke legions. They spoke of terror, disgrace, annoyance. They gave off that, "Who Gives a Fuck?" attitude when brows and head tilted in the right direction. They were... perfect.

Remodeled eyes traveling farther down, he recognized a change in face structure as well. The curves in the cheeks and chin, left over from his brief taste of childhood, were gone, replaced by firm cheek-bones, and a square of a chin. And, though he enjoyed looking older than thirteen, he tried imagining his face as he grew older, say thirty or forty. Would he still look several years older, or would this mask of maturity have worn off by then?

A nose marked by freckles, rounded at the tip, slightly sunburnt from the harsh sunrays. Gone. Instead, a nose of great resemblance to a bird's beak had grown upon his face. In close speculation, he could see the faint lines of the material used, though invisible to eyes unaware of change. And, though he knew it to be fake, it felt real. Though covered and stretched, he could still breathe properly, still stick a finger in to dig for a booger, still felt... everything you would feel with a normal nose.

Lips, tweaked and filled, appear femenine, in shape and color, which Ambrogio noticed right away. When pointing this out to the doctor, he simply commented, 'It's all the buzz these days.' Eventually, the look grew on Ambrogio, and he began to see why Dr. Jorgins had chosen this. Small and thin, previously, they were now the polar opposite. He had, after all, asked for an entire re-model, and this was, just assuming, the doctor's logic.

Past new square jaws and chins, a neck awaits speculation. Though naturally thin, several freckles and a single birthmark have been taken away, leaving the flesh of his throat smooth and pale, unblemished. When placing a hand around it, it is seen that he can fit it around in a perfect way, so that fingertips meet his thumb. When felt, the skin is rough and dry, in bad need of lotion or moisturizer.

History

--Playby is Marilyn Manson
--Ambrogio has a daughter, Babette
--Ambrogio is a rapist, a murderer, and a sociopath
--Lyrics: The Beautiful People; Marilyn Manson