Relinquut Corpus Meum - An Advanced Roleplay discussion

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message 1: by sucre'd fiend, born sinner (new)

sucre'd fiend (sucredfiend) | 560 comments Mod
All demons may be placed here. The template for characters can be found here.



message 2: by sucre'd fiend, born sinner (new)

sucre'd fiend (sucredfiend) | 560 comments Mod
(view spoiler)

━━━━━━━━━━━━ · · · ( lucifer ) · · · ━━━━━━━━━━━━━
unknown ▸ homme ( pan + married ) ▸ demon ( king ) ▸ changing
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
( p e r s o n a l i t y ▸
Luci is a bit of a lazy little shit. Meaning, he doesn't like going the extra mile, or doing even half of the work one would allot to the ruler of Hell. If he gets the chance, it's passed on to one of the other Kings, or even one of his Knights if he deems it necessary. It's rare to see him doing any sort of work, unless it involves the most serious of matters, like his siblings getting involved in the war with humans, or maybe even his father. Both are pretty touchy subjects, and he's not as nice as he usually is when they come up. But, for the most part, he's the picture of sin.

On the subject of sin, he is the original sinner. The one too full of pride to allow himself to kiss the feet of his father's creations. The one too angry to accept the punishment of being cast down to Hell after throwing a rebellion-sized tantrum. The one too greedy to be content with the possessions he has. The one too lustful to keep his hands off the previously immaculate Lilith. Too envious to let the humans have their happiness, and too lazy to do it all himself. He was the bearer of all these sins and more, and he did it all out of spite. He's temptation's very definition. He knows what he's doing when he lures humans astray with pretty words and wandering hands. With that sympathetic smile and those knowing eyes. Because he knows their sins inside and out, like the back of his hand. And no matter how hard someone else might try, they'd never be able to count up, understand, or relate to his sins.

And he doubts anyone really takes note of this. He doesn't even think Lilith, the one woman who worships and adores him most, realizes. After all, he's had centuries upon centuries to work on a mask of indifference and malice. One emotion is replaced with another, and then all is well. Or he goes numb and hides it all behind his behavior.
admires ▸ Lilith, the war, sleep, sex, good food and fine wine
abhors ▸ his previous family, humanity, work, the war
fortes ▸ tempting, manipulative, deceptive
faults ▸ impulsive, childish, lazy

lucky blue smithblue ▸ silvery blonde ▸ 6'2" ▸ 203 lbs ▸ wedding band
Lucifer is, well, hot as hell. To be frank, he's been rocking immortal beauty since the dawn of time. With those eyes so blue you'd think you're drowning in them, and voice so sweet you'd think you were dreaming, it seems fitting that he's the ultimate temptation.
( b i o g r a p h y ▸
It started with Genesis. You know, the first book in the Bible. With the whole creation of the Earth and Man and the Heavens. What most people don't know is that Lucifer's rebellion should have occurred in that whole Genesis chapter. It just cuts right to the snake that talks Adam and Eve into eating the forbidden fruit. No introduction, no real mention. It was almost like he was a secondary character, rather than a villain. People like to say it's because they don't want to give him too much credit, but he thinks it's simply because they don't know. Sure, the book of Job does a fairly good job of telling his story, but that's still after the fact.

It started with the creation of man. Lucifer could see nothing but trouble to come of the creation, and when he confronted the Father about it, his opinion was spurned. His creations were absolute, perfect. But weren't the angels supposed to be perfect already? Were they not good enough? Was Lucifer not good enough? It made no sense that the more feeble humans were even needed, but Adam stayed. And Lucifer grew more agitated. He wanted to remove the create from the face of the earth, to rid them all of the blemish.

He confronted the Father once more, but with minimal backup. There were other angels who had seen the faults to come in this single human, and later the woman that sprung from his side. Again, Lucifer was turned away. To say that he was enraged by his Father's blatant disregard was like saying a monsoon was a small rain shower. Just as the first woman came into fruition, Lucifer gathered his rebels. However, if there was one sin that Lucifer had succumb to other than pride, it might as well have been lust.

Beautiful was the creature that was the first woman, named Lilith. This woman quickly became something he coveted, envied Adam for. Not only did the weak human hold more love of from the Father than Lucifer, but he'd been blessed with a woman so lovely to be his equal. But she wasn't his equal; she was beyond his equal. Lucifer saw this, and wanted her almost as much as he wanted Adam dead. He proposed the idea of sparing her to the numerous legions of rebelling angels, which only seemed to bring forth strife in the ranks. Some agreed, some were impartial, and some were livid. The mission was eradicate all human presence, and yet their leader wanted to set one free.

It's simple enough to say that the rebellion was betrayed, and they never stood a chance. But before he fell, before he was cast into the depths of Hell, he knew Lilith. The biblical sort of knowing, if you catch my drift. The last taste of divinity before he'd be locked away. He'd say it was worth it, because she followed suit shortly after and then Eve was created, and the rest is history.

It was sometime after the events in the book of Job that the Father decided that Lucifer needed more of a time out. He was chained to molten rocks in the Lake of Fire for over three hundred years. In that time, he'd developed underlings and plans for the destruction of the world. He allowed the Kings and Knights to roam free over the earth as he bid his time. Upon being released a very long time ago, he developed a habit of staying in place more often. He refrained from visiting the earth, sitting in anticipation of the Father's next punishment.

Until he'd had enough.
family ▸ father -- hmmm, siblings -- previously, the angels, daughter -- Aradia
allies ▸ Kings
enemies ▸ The White Lotus
spouse ▸ Lilith



๖ۣۜSαᴙαh ๖ۣۜMᴄĄłłiƨʈeʀ (inked_chinadoll)

━━━━━━━━━━ · · · ( Lîlîth Eve Annh ) · · · ━━━━━━━━━━━
? + ∞ ( 10/27 ) ▸ femme ( hetero + married ) ▸ demon ( king ) ▸ changing
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
( p e r s o n a l i t y ▸
Though she may be beautiful, Lilith does not define herself by her appearance; rather, she considers herself to be an intellectual. Knowledge is her strongest weapon, and she wields it with lightning quick wit. She is highly inquisitive by nature, and cannot abide to leave a subject--any subject--unknown. She remembers everything that has ever come across her vision and her mind. Nothing is forgotten; simply compartmentalized for future use if need be. After all, knowledge was what set her free.

She is undoubtedly an alpha in every aspect of her life, save one: her husband holds the keys to her submission. Lilith would do anything for Lucifer; he only needs to ask. Sometimes not even. Perhaps the reason she is an ocean of information and resources is because she knows that her beloved would rather not be bothered with the intricacies of running a rebellion, an empire, a business, or the household. But he wants it nevertheless, and she will obtain it for him. It is always, all for him.
admires ▸ Lucifer, knowledge
abhors ▸ Adam (but maybe only because it reminds her of what once was)
fortes ▸ knowledge (her mind is a smorgasbord with an eidetic memory), loyal (to Lucifer and his cause)
faults ▸ unrepentant, lack of moral conscience

amber ▸ ebony ▸ 5'1" ▸ 97 lbs ▸ wedding band on middle finger
Lilith is a small, delicately boned woman, who looks soft as silk, though she is strong as steel. Her eyes hold the weight of the world, and are as old as sin. Her skin is blemishless, the youthfulness of her appearance the oldest lie.
( b i o g r a p h y ▸
Lilith defines herself by one moment in her history: after Lucifer. She remembers everything beforehand, of course; being made from the rib of a dolt she was forced to mate with, and their false sense of happiness until her second husband opened her eyes and showed her the truth. He came to her first in the form of a serpent, one with lime green skin and stunning ice blue eyes. She had been intrigued from the get go (she was always a curious cat), and had listened as he educated her, and taught her that the world was not as perfect as it seemed. She visited him daily, while Adam slept, beneath a large tree that her Father and Maker had told her never to eat from. There Lucifer opened his heart to her, and she fell in love with him before realizing it had happened.

He told her that he was going to overthrow his tyrannical Father--her Father and Maker; he told her that he would help the angels who could not help themselves; but most importantly, he told her that he wanted her to be his bride, his mate and his queen before showing her his true form. Lilith needed no more convincing; she gave herself to him under the Tree of Good and Evil while Adam slept, and when the night passed, Lucifer bade her temporary goodbye while he went to wage his war. She took the opportunity to tell Adam of her infidelity, and enraged, he beat her to within an inch of her life, cursing her in front of their Father, who in his infinite mercy, offered her a chance to repent for her wicked ways, though she would be made to walk the earth alone and in pain. Lilith proudly told them that her place was by her true husband's side, and Allah sent her there: down into the fiery pits of hell. He made another woman for Adam, giving the creature Lilith's middle name, and it was the last she ever saw of Adam and the Garden.

By his side, she remained. While he was chained in hell, she stood by him, keeping him company, soothing his aches, listening to him vent. She helped him plot his return, his dreams of overthrowing their Father and eradicating mankind, all of whom had sprung from Adam and Eve's loins. When he was finally released, Lilith helped Lucifer build his empire and form the Kings and their Knights. Now that the White Lotus are attempting to wage war with the demons, husband and wife are doing all that they can to ensure that will never happen.
family ▸ father -- Allah, siblings -- infinite, daughter -- Aradia
allies ▸ Kings
enemies ▸ The White Lotus
spouse ▸ Lucifer



message 4: by sucre'd fiend, born sinner (new)

sucre'd fiend (sucredfiend) | 560 comments Mod
(view spoiler)

━━━━━━━━ · · · ( magdadriel "madga" evoss ) · · · ━━━━━━━━
257 ( x/xv ) ▸ homme ( pan + single ) ▸ demon ( rook ) ▸ changing
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
( p e r s o n a l i t y ▸
Most people that meet Magda are truly and royally fucked, in both senses of the word. He's always had a habit of doing what people least want, and in his case, it happens to be taking their souls. Sure, a trade is good, but when someone truly doesn't want to part with something he gave up a long time ago, he feels this uncontrollable need to take. Like, if he doesn't have his soul, why should they have theirs? The same can also apply for material items. Even as a human, he'd had light fingers and was a master of sleight of hand. Now he's got a horde of rolexes, diamond rings, and much more. His love of shiny things hasn't diminished over the years, but the warm buzz after taking what isn't his has grown.

But he's still cold. Inside that shell of a host he now inhabits, he's cold and tired and a tad bit sad. Well, mostly sad. He'd say he's depressed, but he hasn't felt any sort of sadness in so long that he doesn't know what it is that's eating him up. He says dark things, maybe to appease himself, maybe to watch the reaction of those still mortal. He'd always wanted to explore death, the "undiscovered country". And he has, in a way, but this little slice of land isn't enough. He'd like to see what it takes to kill him now, not just force him out of his host body. Which, he isn't even sure is possible at this point.

As far as everyone else is concerned, Magda is just peachy. He's not suffering from any sort of depression or post-life crisis. If anything, Magda may be one of the few rooks that doesn't seem to raise any red flags. Which he finds to be extremely ironic. He lived his first life putting on airs, and everyone being able to see through them part of the time. Now, in his second life, he continues on with the same habits of hiding his every thought and emotion, and no one gives a damn. It's partly blissful, knowing that if he were to spiral even further down that dark hole he knows he can't climb out of, he would be able to do it all in peace.
admires ▸ drinking ( heavily ), sex, taking what isn't his
abhors ▸ life ( in a way ), seeing others have what he can't, seeing his own fragility
fortes ▸ manipulative, light-fingered, sneaky
faults ▸ self-destructive, reckless, dismissive of emotions

jack falaheechocolate brown ▸ coal brown ▸ 5'11" ▸ 201 lbs ▸ beauty mark under his right eye
The devil never comes looking like someone you don't want. It's very obvious with Magda that such is the case. Over the years, he's inhabited many bodies, some of which never looked like him, but after merely a century, he found the right one. One that he's been in so long, he's sure the soul has died off and the body has become more like the one he had in his previous life. With brown locks and eyes, most people have a tendency to get lost in his appearance. And his voice--don't get anyone started on that.
( b i o g r a p h y ▸
Being human is a distant and far off memory for Magda. His real name, the one he used as a human, is just as elusive. Maybe because he had a different name every few weeks to suit the con he worked, or maybe because he was constantly trying to forget it all. But, it doesn't really matter; the past is the past, after all.

A criminal, through and through, and somehow he hadn't been able to see that he'd been conned that night he'd sold his soul. He thought it was a joke. Twenty-four, at the height of his very illegal career, and some dude strolls up to him at a bar asking if he wanted to make it better. And he said no. Because it was fine the way it was. He could stick with the simple thrill taking things from people, and have no need for anything else. Except maybe one thing. He got himself thoroughly liquored up, and then he said yes. The night was blurry from there, and he's not going to say that isn't cliche as fuck, because it really is. But he does remember noting that when he tried to put on his pants in the morning, they were much tighter in the crotch area and he wasn't as drained as he thought he would be.

Yeah, he's the guy that sold his soul for a bigger dick and better stamina. His soul. Of course, at this point, he hadn't truly realized that he'd sold something he could never find again or get back. And not two weeks later, he was dead in a ditch. Apparently, one of his previous targets had tracked him down. Some people just don't like it when you sleep with their wives.

The rest, as they say, is history. And he means this literally because that was over two hundred years ago. So, maybe he hadn't been so smart in luring away married women when being married was so sacred to people back then. He knows he made a mistake, that he screwed himself royally. But now he can do that for as long as he wants to, without limitation.

Over two hundred years, and he's still up to no good. There's always someone new on the other side of his bed, be they woman or man. He has no qualms with whatever they identify as, so long as they keep him warm and busy. And if they're good enough, he'll give them something in exchange for their soul. And people don't realize when they make a grievous mistake like that. They think of it as nothing if they're drunk enough, mostly when they're sober. People didn't go about being religious the same way they used to, and it's made the job very easy.

The same could be said for finding bodies. The one he inhabits now was an infidel, a traitor. Some gang, or something of the like, had just tossed his body into the street and walked off. Now the body that Magda had taken beforehand was coming apart at the seams. It was hard to forget how fragile humans were, especially when he did shit that had him switching hosts almost every week. However, the one he's in now, has seen plenty of wrong things. Has seen years upon years of violence, cruelty, and sweet, sweet loveless passion.

And it's starting to look like him. Huh.
family ▸ mostly forgotten, mother -- Henrietta, father -- Victor, sister -- Alyssa
allies ▸ Demons
enemies ▸ White Lotus
lover(s) ▸ Velorum, and numerous others



message 5: by Kikki, I'm a sinner who will always sin again- Lust (new)

Kikki (kikki-not-kiki) | 466 comments Mod
(view spoiler)

 
Velorum  ↪  embodiment of Lust
××× looks 21 ;; birthday unknown
      × male ;; bisexual
      × Single for now ;; King


“ Velorum is a 5'11" male with shaggy blonde hair that falls down just short of his icy blue eyes. He doesn't have any significant marks on his body yet, or scars.
they say i resemble Ulrik Munther
V e l o r u m is a very manipulative, deceptive, and tricky man, excelling at attaining what he wants....when he wants it. He doesn't care who gets stomped on in the process, so long as he gets what he's looking for in the end. He knows that rather than sexy, he more often ends up looking adorable, but he has no qualms with using his looks to his advantage. People can be drawn to cuteness more often then sexiness, where most look upon someone sexy and think them unattainable, his adorable looks make him more approachable, a more likely candidate and after a touch from him, the weak-willed become far more willing to join him for a night of hot, steamy passion then before, though its rare he actually has to use his abilities by the time he's done talking to someone.

The willing are a lot more fun in bed then the manipulated, though if he's desperate enough even the unwilling will work for him. Velorum is not one who could be considered weak-willed and only does things if he chooses to do so, and is not one who can be forced to do anything that he does not want to do. Because of this, he can be rather...difficult to work with, and since he'll refuse to do things that are inconvenient to him, it makes working with him in general almost impossible, especially if it comes to fighting. He won't fight himself, but if need be he'll send his Knights to deal with it.
 

I f Velorum ever had a childhood, it did not last long. He lost his virginity within the first two days of his existence, and since then he's been bedding whoever he wants, willing or unwilling, racking up the numbers of humans and demons alike who were lucky enough to be chosen by him to warm his bed for a night and on very rare occasion, two nights. He's the reason orgies exist, the reason why men and women cheat on one another in steamy one night stands, often with him being the culprit in some form or another. Literally. One of his biggest thrills centuries ago was seducing others by finding their fantasy lover and shifting to look like them, luring them to his bed and leaving the next day so they could forever wonder if they had imagined it or if it had been a reality. He has a certain form that he likes to frequent the most, with a mop of blonde hair and bright blue eyes, his form is very deceiving to how manipulative he is, and what a master he is in the bedroom. He invented all the sex positions that exist now, and did so with relish as each position was meant to satisfy further in some form or fashion, and others were just to spice things up.

He has always been more of a lover than a fighter, and has always proven as such s he never really meddles in any aspects of war, though he has no qualms about letting his Knights get as involved as they choose. He's always got an eye out for his next lust filled night, his next target so to speak, and he's never really thought of anyone as anything beyond the next one to warm his bed for a night or two. Though there is one demon that he doesn't mind returning to from time to time. Magda. He's a Rook, but Velorum never cared about things like rank. He was inclined to think about him after hearing that he'd traded his soul for a bigger.....part below and lets just say that on that particular night, many people gave in to their lustful urges as Velorum had one of the best nights he'd had in a while. Needless to say, Magda has found himself the sole member on a very exclusive list of people Velorum would sleep with more than twice. His favorite mythology he created were the stories behind the incubi and succubi, mostly his doing in general with how he'd lure innocent males and females to his bed and grow strong from their lust for him while thoroughly tiring them out in an all too pleasurable way.


abilities ━ taken from supernatural wikia
─ Enhanced stamina (*wink wink*) ─ Lust manipulation ─ Pheromone manipulation ─ Lust empowerment ─ Sex specialist ─ Sexual sight ─ Shapeshifting (human forms only) ─ Charmspeak

Lovers
- One Night Stands: Too many to count
- Two Night Stands: About half as many
- More than Two Night Stands: Magda



message 6: by shinra (last edited Dec 10, 2015 12:38PM) (new)

shinra | 41 comments (view spoiler)

━━━━━━━━━━ · · · ( alastor bastille tremaine ) · · · ━━━━━━━━━━━
315 ( ix/xii ) ▸ homme ( bisexual + single ) ▸ demon ( knight physician ) ▸ changing
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━▸
( p e r s o n a l i t y
In simpler words, Alastor is a sadistic asshole. Being an embodiment of blood lust, he relishes in the current war against the demons and the White Lotus. In a way, he sort of admires the White Lotus for their constant killing against the demons (not saying he’s on their side). Alastor has his moments when he is completely bloodthirsty. He has gained the nickname “The Executioner” among the demons and the humans. He despises people who are too weak to go the last stretch and end a person’s life. He considers them weak and in need of a reality check.

As the appointed demon physician, Alastor always has work to do. Always. With a war going on, dozens of demons who have managed to make it back alive from the battlefield have to come to Alastor, especially if they were injured by a Holy Artifact. In all honesty, Alastor is a lazy shit. He hates doing work with a passion, but knows he has to do it because many demons, especially low ranking ones would probably be dead if it weren't for him. A benefit of this job though is that Alastor loves to see them squirm when he's healing them. To amuse himself, he makes sure they feel as much pain as possible without killing them. The one absolute thing he hates is that he has to write prescriptions daily for medicine and all that crap if it's really serious.

Alastor is also a manipulative sociopath. Just to get him out of trouble of his own doings, he will adjust to any situation. Smiling when it's the right time, flattery, seductive smirks and he even apologizes. In reality, he has no remorse whatsoever. He also uses his powers on humans so they can turn on each other. Filling their minds with whispers of lies about plots of other people. He will slowly torture them until they snap and go on a killing spree. The only humane thing about him is his humor. He will occasionally crack a jokes or laugh along but other than that and seeing patients, he's pretty anti-social.
admires ▸ war, blood lust, cigarettes, science, bloodshed
abhors ▸ humans, cheap alcohol, work, the weak
fortes ▸ manipulative, deceptive, intellectual, healing, causing excruciating pain
faults ▸ impulsive, anger, self-destructive, unsympathetic

ash stymestblue ▸ black ▸ 6'1" ▸ 201 lbs ▸ tattoos
Alastor's skin resembles that of a lifeless body. Unnaturally pale.His eyes are a stormy blue, which get darker when he's excited. His hair is as black as the darkest of nights. He resembles what a fallen angel would most likely be portrayed to look like which helps him to deceive humans. His deep velvety voice is not only seductive but it helps him to hypnotize people.
( b i o g r a p h y ▸
Alastor can hardly remember his life as a human. He only recalls the events leading up to his death in 1700s when he was 18. He doesn’t remember what happened to his family and he could care less. His parents had moved out of town with his little sister, who he actually connected to in a way, when they found out about his sins. He was locked up under the allegations of being a serial killer of the missing girls in the town. He did not deny these allegations therefore he was sentenced to be executed. The people could not believe the young trainee could have done such a thing. It was not his fault he was this way. His father had abused him, his mother and his sister, Helena and he eventually snapped.

On the day of his execution, Alastor was in his cell. He was upset and slightly tormented by the fact his little hobby was over. He wanted to do more and more. The time was drawing near to his death and he decided to make a deal with the devil. He sold his soul to escape the fate of not bring able to new victims. He accepted the deal with a wicked grin on his face even though he would be forever damned, minutes before he was publicly hanged being remembered to the people as a adolescent murderer.

As a demon, Alastor slowly climbed up to be assigned as a Knight, due to his past crimes and mortal sins. He had become the embodiment of blood lust and he couldn’t be happier. He slowly forgot about his human life and embraced being a demon, feeling as if it was truly what he was always supposed to be. He was appointed to “Knight Physician” by Lucifer because of his expertise and great knowledge of medicine in his mortal life. He has been in this position for over 200 years. For the same length of time he has tormented the humanity and seen more bloodshed and tragedy than he could ever hope for. He has given up on the human race and all its value but the occasional thought of what could be if he had not turned out the way he is.
family ▸ mother - Freya Tremaine , father - Alistair Tremaine , siblings - Helena Tremaine (sister)
allies ▸ Demons
enemies ▸ White Lotus
lover(s) ▸ Open



message 7: by corina (last edited Dec 23, 2015 07:24PM) (new)

corina (molteneyes) | 138 comments
(view spoiler)
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
 
─── ─ · · ·  V E R O C H K A   “ V E R ”   D O B R O V N Y A  · · · ─ ───
××× aɢᴇ ; ninety
╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾ ( looks 19 )
××× gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ ; female
╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾ ( pansexual )
××× sᴘᴇᴄɪᴇs ; demon
╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾ ( rook )
▬ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴋɴᴇᴡ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴇ·ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ, ɪ ɢᴜᴀʀᴀɴᴛᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ·ᴅ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ɪᴛ sᴇᴄʀᴇᴛ▬

     dark hazel × chestnut brown × 5'5" × 120 lbs × multiple scars
─────────────── · aɴᴛᴏɴɪɴᴀ vᴀsʏʟᴄʜᴇɴᴋᴏ · ───────────────
oᴜʀ ᴄʏɴɪᴄᴀʟ ᴍɪɴᴅs ᴡɪʟʟ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏᴛᴀʟʟʏ ᴡᴏʀᴛʜ ɪᴛ ▬ it's a rare occurrence to find Ver without a self-satisfied smirk gracing her lips, eyes intense, an expression that belies the rash, chaotic being that Ver really is. She is chaos incarnate, Loki personified -- demonized? Her joy comes from the thrill of danger, from stepping to close to the edge, just like it always had... Even though there isn't really an edge anymore. Being a demon really puts a damper on an adrenaline junkie's life. The high just isn't the same when there isn't a sword of Damocles named death hanging over Ver's head. But, that also means she can't die again, so perks. There's only pain and an infinity of chasing that adrenaline high -- blood pounding through her veins, black spots dancing in the corner of her vision, heart slamming against her ribcage, that feeling of elation, of feeling so alive when so close to death.

Since a demon, that's not really her reality anymore. She still chases that thrill, but Ver has become more pugnacious, more foolhardy, more rash, more chaotic, in the 90 years since her death. She spends her time courting danger and fucking shit up. She likes to mess with people's minds, using her skill at deception to twist reality to fit her own lies, creating falsity from truth. Ver has few qualms doing it, most of those human emotions left behind and forgotten over the years she's spent as a rook. Because, you know, dealing with souls is fun. Playing games with people's minds is fun. Tricking people, chasing danger, walking that tightrope, it's all just a giant game. Ver thrives in chaos; she lives for the heat of a fight. With her sailor's mouth (fuck is more of a warning that a noun is coming than an actual swear) and her knack for finding trouble (being self-destructing really bred that sixth sense into the very fiber of her being), Ver rarely has to look far before finding the danger and chaos she craves. And if it's not there... Well, creating it has never been easier for her.
× admires ╾ street racing, adrenaline, all danger
×× abhors ╾ boredom, being bossed around, small talk
××× fortes ╾ manipulation, swearing, fucking shit up
×××× faults ╾ following orders, rash, reckless, chaotic
wᴇ'ʀᴇ sᴡɪᴍᴍɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ sʜᴀʀᴋs ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴡᴇ ᴅʀᴏᴡɴ ▬ ver's days as a human, her childhood and teenage years, are little more than a blur. She doesn't remember much of her parents -- Russian immigrants living in France, caught in the crossfire of an international war. She remembers, distantly and through a haze, an older brother whom she loved more than anything, who was her best friend and closest confidant. An older brother who was brave and kind and outraged by what Germany was doing to the country that had adopted him, who stood for that belief and died for it. Ver vaguely remembers a two year long battle with her parents, a battle where they told her that she couldn't join the Resistance, where she yelled back about how this Paris is no longer mine and if I do nothing, he will have died for nothing. For a girl who already courted death on the regular, picking up a gun and avenging her brother was no large leap. When she turned eighteen, she left, joined the Resistance. It was there that she sold her soul, not understanding the full implications of such an action. All she wanted was revenge for her brother. She didn't matter.

February, 1944. There was heavy snow on the ground and no light on the streets. Two other Resistance fighters were with her. It was supposed to be clean, no one was supposed to be in the house. Get in, get the papers, get out. Simple. Ver vaguely recalls picking the back door's lock, following her friend -- Jean? Jérémie? -- into the hallway, into the office. What she does remember, sharp and clear as though it had happened yesterday: the look on his face when he turned and the bullet exited his ribcage and hit the wall beside Ver. The sharp, explosive pain that burned through her midriff. That crippling, paralytic pain. The faint whistling in her ears. The nothingness that followed.

When Ver woke up, she thought she was a zombie. It's funny now, looking back. When she woke up, she no longer cared. When she woke up, there was an ugly scar on her chest and an empty feeling inside of it. Her parents mourned an empty coffin. When Paris' liberation came, she had already perfected her customary smirk, her profane vocabulary, and her angry, chaotic ways. She no longer cared about her dead friends, about her living friends, about the city she had loved and died for.

It's hard to remember that fervor now, that want to free and liberate, to fight for her country and people (albeit a want that was partly driven by her chaotic, self-destructing tendencies). Ver is no longer that same patriotic girl. It may have started with her personality, simply the fact of who she was. And then her brother's death, the opportunity to toe the line between life and danger and death. And now that she's a demon... It's hard to remember a time when she wasn't this.
×××× family ╾ brother, mother, father, all dead
××× allies ╾ rafaelle, theodore -- future
×× enemies ╾ white lotus, theodore, many others
× lovers ╾ theodore -- future
╾─ ᴡᴇ'ʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴇʀᴇ ғᴏʀ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ; ᴡᴇ'ʀᴇ ʙᴏʀᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ─╾
 
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬



message 8: by mels (last edited Dec 15, 2015 04:01PM) (new)

mels (padmeskywalkers) | 121 comments (view spoiler)



━━━━━━━━━ · · · jezebel malika amirmoez · · · ━━━━━━━━━
625 ( 1390 AD ) ▸ female ( bisexual + single ) ▸ demon ( knight ) ▸ paris
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
( p e r s o n a l i t y ▸ ▸ you could be the king but watch the queen conquer
With a sharp wit and a pretty face, Jez has never been one to underestimate. Those who make the mistake of doing so end up burning in the endless fires she leaves behind her, or being stepped on by her designer high heels as she continues to climb. Always she's been climbing. Never has she once looked back.

And why should she? With every rung of the ladder she climbs, she gains new advantages, new reasons for her being. She's gained powers she could never have imagined before. She has risen beyond everything she has ever imagined. Jezebel has never slowed her pace, has never stopped rising. And she doesn't ever intend to.

Heaven for Jez would to be Queen of the World. To finally have everything she ever desired, to finally be in control of her own destiny, to be in control of everything. Jez loves control. To be controlling is simply in her nature. And to be controlled? Well if to be the controller is Heaven, then to be controlled is Hell.

admires ▸ shoes, clothes, her penthouse suite, manipulation, beauty, power
abhors ▸ being controlled, not being her own master, Lucifer and Lilith
fortes ▸ her beauty, her wit, powers of manipulation
faults ▸ hubris, ambition

Emma Watsonbrown ▸ brown ▸ 5'5" ▸ 117 lb
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
( b i o g r a p h y ▸ ▸ there's an old man sitting on the throne that's saying
▸ ▸ i should probably keep my pretty little mouth shut
Jeza was born in the most insignificant village in the world. She was a nobody. Her family was made up of nobodies. Her entire village was made up of nobodies. But Jez was not about to spend the rest of her lifetime tending cows and never doing anything interesting, oh no. Not her. She disappeared at the age of thirteen from her sleepy little village without a second glance and was off to bigger, better and grander things.

She sold her soul at sixteen. She wasn't aware of the consequences back then, but when a charming man offers you eternal youth and beauty for an easy price, you take it. She's never regretted her choice. And the demon kept his word. Jez has remained young and beautiful, powerful and witty through the ages. She's walked her way to the top in designer shoes. The young girl sitting in a pasture with braids in her hair is nothing compared to the woman with the most powerful men in the world on her arm, a penthouse suite in Paris, the finest clothes and jewelery.

The only thing that ruins positively everything is the fact that she still hasn't reached the top. Lilith is still the Queen, and is still Jez's Master. The fact that there are still two people above her in the world, who can deign to give her orders and expect her to follow them is an itch that can't be scratched for Jez. She is not some dog to be called upon someone else's whim, no. She has everything she could ever want, but at the same time, does she not have nothing? Everything she is, everything she has remains and will always remain Lucifer and Lilith's. Unless she acts. And perhaps the time of Jezebel has arrived, the time when all the waiting finally pays off, the time when Lucifer and Lilith wait on her hand and foot.

family ▸ all long long long dead
allies ▸ tba
enemies ▸ Lucifer and Lilith, tba, White Lotus
lover(s) ▸ velorum + others



message 9: by katie (new)

katie (kaaaaaaaaatie) (view spoiler)

━━━━━━━━━━ · · · ( carlota miren marcus ) · · · ━━━━━━━━━━━
20,000 ( 18\6 ) ▸ female ( asexual + single ) ▸ demon ( king ) ▸ varying
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
( p e r s o n a l i t y ▸
she's furious, at the sun, the sky, her allies, her enemies. it is near impossible to be safe from her wrath, directed at anyone who dears come near her. she is quick-tempered, dangerous, not afraid of what her words, actions can do. whilst she appears to hate everything, angry at almost all, she detests relationships of any kind more than anything else. carlota hates companionship, a fact noticed by anyone who tries to display kindness or care.

carlota is a lie-monger and a discoverer of truths, and uses these skills, honed to near-perfection (the truth is a dangerous thing), to break up anything with a lash of her tongue, delivering a mixture of reality and fantasy to all who listen. and she does this regularly, telling friends, lovers, siblings, anything and everything they have ever said about the other - and some things they haven't. it's a talent carlota has, one she should not have gained in the first place. so with her gift, she destroys all the love she can find.
admires ▸ hatred, war, destruction, fury
abhors ▸ love, family, friendship,
fortes ▸ expert liar, clever, deceiving
faults ▸ destructive, cruel, unfriendly, hating

maría valverdebrown ▸ brown ▸ 5'6 ▸ 141 lbs ▸ earrings
she looks like a thunderstorm would, maybe, held together by the force of her own sheer will. hair often tousled, eyes like lightning, striking. intimidating in appearance, a shock when underestimated.
( b i o g r a p h y ▸
she was younger, once, and more innocent, as are most. that is not to say she was childish - she is a fallen angel and therefore never had to suffer through youth. however, yes, she was a different person, kinder, more loving, friendly. she had a friend - only one, but far more than she has now. and she did love them, so much more than she had ever and would ever love anyone else. but carlota was not like the other angels, not like her friend. she was rebellious, angry against injustices, not one of the lord's sheep. and, as all like her, she fell for challenging what only existed to be questions. she fell.

it was different being a demon. carlota fit in, that was one thing. she was with others like her. she was with people she could have been friends with - they were, after all, her people. but she already had a friend. a friend, who, when she turned to speak to them, ignored her. carlota was - not angry, not yet. she was confused. then, as time went on, she was angry, and with each passing day, her anger only got worse. she had loved that angel, and they had deserted her. if that was all love was, then nobody could have it. carlota was unloved and she wouldn't be happy until everyone else was too.
family ▸ father -- god, siblings -- angels, fallen angels
allies ▸ demons
enemies ▸ the white lotus
lover(s) ▸ none



message 10: by alessia (last edited Feb 20, 2016 01:07AM) (new)

alessia (classick) | 40 comments
H A R O L D   A S H L E Y   B L A C K B O U R N E  ;  ♖
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
  •   ccclxii ; male ; iv/iv ; bisexual ; demon ; rook ; changing   •
 
(   adrien sahores   )

Harold easily becomes one's subject of pity, once your eyes are laid on him. Shoulders slumped, eyes tired, and smile so shy, he could pass as a kicked puppy in need of your love. It's mostly what draws people in, because what harm can it do to spend a night with someone like him?
dark brown ; brown ; 5'11"; 165 lbs ; freckles

   ♜    P E R S O N A L I T Y :                    —   just a boy who can't die
First and foremost, Harold is screwed up. Boys like him aren't meant to be immortal. Their hearts are just too soft to cope with everyone they love dying on them, sooner or later. Immortality will drive them insane and turn them into things they're not. For Harold, his hands have been shaking and his smiles have been haunted for a long time now, but the anxiety's new. He's owned his current body for a bit over a hundred years now, and it's never given him any problems (it's been perfect for him, actually); it's even starting to look like him. But recently he's been growing restless, it feels like his body is eating him alive, and he just wants to get out, be free of it, but he can't.

Harold lives in a world of constant chasing, and sometimes, it gets hard to breathe. Sure, he is kept warm every night by someone new, but there's a certain loneliness to a long list of people who don't love you back and more days spent mourning than living. It's suffocating, loving people you can't have or save. It's like he's underwater, dragged down by the bodies of everyone he's ever loved. But Harold's not the type to let go and save himself; he's so lonely, he's so desperate, he'd rather drown trying to save someone already dead.

Most days, when not out picking whose bed to sleep in, Harold lets himself sink into a state of mourning. Sometimes it's quiet, just him on his bathroom floor, hands limp over the edge of his bathtub, skin colourless, peeling himself open layer by layer, trying to find something to love within himself. Sometimes it's much more louder, and there's shattered glass scattered all over the kitchen counter, and the neighbours don't walk his way anymore. Harold stands with one foot in the silence and the other in the chaos, and it's all too easy to send him tipping either way.

However, despite how weak and broken he may appear at his worst, Harold is a demon. He has his own tricks up his sleeve. For one, he’s an actor. He lies and plays the role of characters who don’t exist, all for the sake of entertainment and also need. And believe them when they say he’s a good one. Most of the time, he uses his talent to warm his bed, but on other, slightly rarer, occasions, he makes use of it to slip in and out of his siblings’ descendants’ lives.

It's clear, though, that after more than three centuries, Harold is starting to lose his grip on his humanity. He's growing colder, maybe even morbid, and there's hardly anything human in his "mindless" reaping of souls. But there are still good days, when he remembers not of his loved ones' deaths, but their lives. Those days, his smiles are way more genuine, and he’s like a boy again. There’ll be youth in him and laughter in his wake. But those days don’t last long, and they hardly come about anymore.
× admires ; botany , squirrels , wool sweaters , red wine
× abhors ; (more like scared of) loneliness , his slowly increasing inhumanity
× fortes ; good actor , (he hates it but) takes souls very easily
× faults ; anxious and restless in his own skin , cannot cope with death
   ♜    B I O G R A P H Y :                —   maybe it'd start coming easy
Born in 1653, over three hundred and fifty years ago, Harold shouldn't remember his time being human very well, but he does. He remembers his parents, hardworking and loving till the very end, when they were both killed by the epidemic that struck France in 1668. And his siblings, his precious siblings, more important to him that anything else in the world, he remembers them clearly. After being orphaned, the Blackbourne children grew so close, one could hardly tell where one of them ended and the others began. So when their littlest sister, barely twelve, who hadn't been given a chance to live her life yet, caught a deadly disease, Harold sold his soul away to save her in a blink of an eye.

Except, he didn't save her. He asked for immortality, and he got it. Twenty-three, desperate and frightened, he hadn't known what he was doing. So barely a week later, their sweet little girl stopped breathing and the Blackbournes weren't the same anymore. Poisoned and sprawled behind an abandoned factory, Harold learned that he couldn't die. But maybe that was because he was already dead.

Harold lingered for awhile. He hung around in the shadows, watching his siblings grow and age without him. He watched as they married, migrated, gave birth, raised their children. And when wrinkles started appearing on their skin and their bones started growing weaker, Harold should have known it was coming, but watching his beloved sisters and brothers walk into the arms of death with smiles on their faces, all while he stood, immortal, not having aged a day since he touched them last, it was hell.

He’s been moving from place to place since then, crossing through towns, cities, countries, watching the world develop and grow through the eyes of different people. He keeps on falling in love, but whether it be with a pretty boy who might just like him back or a wealthy lady looking for a distraction, they all have a last breath to draw.

Maybe after two hundred years of watching his mortal lovers die, it would start coming easy. But Harold's heart's too big and too soft to stop loving things death can touch or to stop letting it tear him apart. He's no immortal, Harold, he's just a boy who can't die. But slowly, his humanity is starting to give way to something way more desperate and savage with every death and rejection. Every night, he's sleeping with someone new. Maybe someone with pretty eyes or lips you'd die for, maybe someone who's just learned the taste of alcohol or someone who knows every corner of the earth, maybe someone who loves him back or someone who doesn't. Sometimes he stays longer than just one night, sometimes he lets them go, but most of the time, he takes their souls once they've fallen asleep and leaves by the next morning.

To him, that’s just his way to keep them with him forever. The only immortal part of humans are their souls, he believes (after all, it’s his soul that goes from body to body), and it’s their souls that truly fall in love. But lately, it’s been killing him. I mean, the only way he loves people are taking their souls or bodies. The idea of it is so sick. Or at least, it used to be. Hundreds of years ago, he would rather die than do such things, but now, it feels so normal. He could take someone’s soul so casually and move on to take the next without blinking an eye. And that’s the most sickening thing of all.

This is just what the boy who sold his soul for his sister has come to, and it's driving him insane.
× family ; agatha (mother) , barry (father) , barett , beatrice , ewart , hailee , abbi , eryka (sibling's descendant)
× allies ; eryka
× enemies ; tba
× lover(s) ; too many temporary ones , no permanent one



message 11: by dyanne, fallen angel (last edited Dec 22, 2015 04:23PM) (new)

dyanne | 125 comments Mod
(view spoiler)
▬▬▬▬ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀsᴛᴀɴᴅ ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ɪs ᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ▬▬▬▬

T H E O D O R E E V E R A L D B E N I S E K
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ [ ♔ ] ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
[ theo · male ( bisexual + single ) · 326 ( vii/xiv ) · changing ]

━━━━━ demon ━━━━ lilith ━━━━ knight ━━━━━━

♔ ] oɴ ᴛʜᴇ sᴇᴀs ᴏғ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴇ ғᴇᴀʀ ▬▬▬ There are some whose bark is worse than their bite, and then there's Theo. Theo, who doesn't bark at all, tightly coiled sneer waiting within the shadows, always one edge, ready to pounce, ready to kill. There are demons, and then there's Theo, who seems to has lost...something. For a boy who startles with his furious will to live, he seems to be missing a thing to live for. He does not want to destroy, he wants to consume━ death, life, angels, demons━ there is a pit in his stomach that he knows he can never fill, the everpresent need to feel death clawing at his back, gnawing at the shackles of life, but never fully taking him over.

Contrary to what everyone believes, Theo knows what it means to feel. He receives emotions with a vulnerability that always give way to volatility and yet━ he does not know how to give back anything other than anger. His words are not bullets, they are bloodied hands that claw and tear and punch with reckless abandon, never having to aim with the knowledge that no matter where they hit, the welts will always appear. When they call him a monster, he believes them. When they call him beautiful, he destroys them, for the fire within him is the only force that has yet to let him down. Perhaps he was reforged in the flames of Tartarus, rebirthed to mock the phoenix. Feel death's sickle press against your shoulder blades as his laugh grates at your soul like a banshee's scream. Remember that the boy born from fire will not hesitate to turn everything around him to ash.

He has never forgotten that he was once human. Within his loathing for mankind comes his own brand of self-loathing, a blissful hell where he is allowed to stare unashamedly at the truth, ugly as it may be. The truth is, Theodore Benisek is terrified of humans. They are so helpless, so small, and yet they stand tall, clinging tenaciously to the impossible things around them. Theo is an impossible thing, and yet he clings to nothing, heart and fists clenched with emptiness, filling up the cracks and leaving him raw. He tells himself it's better this way. After all, what good is a monster, if it wants to be human?
♔ ] aᴅᴏʀᴇs ▬ lilith, The Chase, fistfights, anger
♔ ] aʙʜᴏʀs ▬ lilith, people, himself, kindness
♔ ] vɪʀᴛᴜᴇs ▬ incredible fighter/killer, loyal
♔ ] vɪᴄᴇs ▬ hateful, volatile, destructive
bᴇɴ ᴀʟʟᴇɴ ━━━━━ blue/green · dirty blonde · 6'2" · 172 lbs
Theo is beautiful. This is not an opinion, but a universal truth. With his chiseled jawline, stunningly clear eyes, and lean, rippling muscles, he has been likened too many times to a Greek god, as if he were sculpted from marble and not a careless byproduct of lust. Other than being exalted as a masterpiece, Theo's fine features may or may not have also been the inspiration for a rather famous Emily Dickenson poem, but that's beside the point.

♔ ] gᴏᴅ, ʜɪᴛ ᴍᴇ sᴛʀᴀɪɢʜᴛ ᴏɴ ▬▬▬ He doesn't remember making the choice. Then again, he doesn't remember much at all. What little he can recollect is opaque, as if being seen through a smudged lens. Little things━ a manor with many sons and even more bastards, the overwhelming stench of the city, the blue woolen uniform he wore the day he died. He has been told that he was born 100 years before Bastille day, in Leeds, or maybe Birmingham. He knows he fought at the Battle of Malplaquet, that there is faded rubble near that site in which the letters Ben...ek are still somewhat visible. He knows that what remains of the tombstone is yet another lie. Below the ground, there is nothing but dirt and rotting wood. This is one of the few truths Theo knows.

He knows that she has something to do with the creature he's become. Lilith. He saw her as her savior, and he was her miracle, and how could he not, reborn as an immortal, invincible thing? She told him she came out onto the battlefield looking for something, And then I found you. Then I chose you. Those words used to mean something to him. Now, they are just words. He knows now that he is just another testament to her greed, her need to play god, to control the pieces, especially the ones with ridiculously pretty faces.

He does not remember not being this way. There is no distinct line from when he was human and when he was demon, but as the time between the two grows, so does his anger. Although he will never admit it, this is his way of rebelling, a small token of irrational humanity that transcends time, rank, even Lilith's precious knowledge.

Three hundred years, and what does he have to show for it? A few scars, a particularly interesting hickey that will never completely fade, an ocean filled with self-loathing, the countless number of bodies who he has terrorized lured into selling their souls with the promise that they will become something more. Same lie, different faces, it really does become old after awhile. And of course, there is his anger, his absolute mess of emotions, the infamous inferno of everything that ultimately makes him the nothing he is.

Whatever family and friends he once had are now long gone, long forgotten. They have faded into oblivion, but Theo continues to endure, leaving behind his legacy. The laundry list of enemies, some deliberate, most accidental, continues to grow, an inescapable side effect for someone who makes a point of wearing his hatred like a second skin. His reputation precedes him, the path of solitude carved by the enmity of his adversaries. They say (from a safe distance) that Lilith's lone knight isn't a knight at all, but a tragedy of a king who has no subjects, only suffocating pride.

Perhaps it is true, but then again, who cares? It's not exactly hard to see that one of the many antonyms for Theo is teamwork and while the reputation's side effects include the omnipresent hum of resentment and the inevitability of at least one fistfight whenever Theo is within a thirty foot radius of another demon, it doesn't matter. Theo is notorious for fighting, but he is even more notorious for winning. Who needs friends when you have two perfectly capable fists at your side?
♔ ] fᴀᴍɪʟʏ ▬ all long gone
♔ ] aʟʟɪᴇs ▬ verochka━ future
♔ ] eɴᴇᴍɪᴇs ▬ too many to count; verochka
♔ ] lᴏᴠᴇʀs ▬ verochka━ future

▬▬▬ ɪᴛ's ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪғғᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ᴅᴀʏs ▬▬▬



message 12: by Kikki, I'm a sinner who will always sin again- Lust (last edited Jan 15, 2016 10:24AM) (new)

Kikki (kikki-not-kiki) | 466 comments Mod
{Notice of recognition} (view spoiler)

[ S H I L O H ⋆ B R I A N ⋆ Z A P P A L A ]

Are you, are you coming to the tree?

[ age 16 ♜ december 21st ♖ male ]
[ homosexual ♖ single ♜ demon ]
[ neutral ♜ hell ♖ pawn ]

If we met at midnight in the hanging tree
        

they say i resemble Steven Chevrin

(  ♜ appearance  ) Shiloh is of medium height and rather lean stature but with a slight muscular frame; he stands roughly 5'6" tall and weighs a little under 150lbs. He'd weigh less if it weren't for his slight muscular frame that's only really noticeable when he takes his shirt off or you feel the muscles by hand. With relatively high cheekbones and full lips, you'd think he'd look effeminate, and he did as a child, but after hitting puberty he has really filled out and looks a lot more masculine than he used to. He has dark brown hair that has lighter highlights from his mother's side. Usually he keeps it swept back, but it has started to grow out since he became a demon and it has a habit of falling into his eyes, which are colored a pale blue, that have an innocent look to them that when he looks up at you endearingly makes you want to hug him.


          Where dead man called out

               For his love to flee


(  ♖ personality  ) Shiloh is an incredibly shy individual, so much so that he can hardly speak when in front of anyone who is not his older brother, and even then he stammers and stumbles over his words, sometimes to the point that he can't say what he's intending. He is a very sweet and down to earth guy, loving anything involving nature and he loves animals, and those quiet little moments where it feels like the whole world pauses to take a breath and relax. Timorous and reticent, he has been known to keep to himself when around new people at first, but once he warms up to you, he is an utter sweetheart. He's incredibly friendly and kind, his personality is often compared to a burst of sunlight on a cloudy day once you get past his initial shyness. He is rarely ever doing anything but smiling, a frown almost never being found on his face and if it is, it never stays very long and is usually quickly replaced with a grin. He is very gentle at heart, and would never think to hurt anyone for any reason. He has a huge imagination that is only fueled by the books he used to read, and he has a childlike wonderment and curiosity for all kinds of things, which has more often then not gotten him into many a tight spot. Since turning into a demon, he's grown a lot more shy and withdrawn than usual, and is constantly looking for someone to cling to and follow around like he would his brother growing up.


Strange things have happened here no stranger would it be



message 13: by Kikki, I'm a sinner who will always sin again- Lust (new)

Kikki (kikki-not-kiki) | 466 comments Mod

Wear a necklace of rope, side by side with me

(  ♜ history  ) Shiloh is the second born son of Emily and Jacob Zappala, and from the moment he was born he proved to be a rather adorable child. He rarely ever cried and would rather coo and cuddle with his parents over anything else. He was surprisingly easy to take care of, as long as they didn't leave him alone he was easy to please with affection always being forefront in his mind. Unfortunately, shortly after his birth Shiloh started to get really sick. He spent most of his life growing up in hospitals, having test after test done as they tried to figure out what was wrong, but most came back inconclusive or the results made no sense. All the doctors told them was that given the results on his vitals and blood count, it was unlikely he would live past the age of 16, and if he did it would likely be in a vegetative state. The most they could do is treat the symptoms as they arose and spend as much time as they could with their son. Lucian was very close to his younger brother despite the unknown illness that plagued him and left him weak and sickly, and he spent a lot of his free time with him when he had the chance. Shiloh had never been strong enough to attend school, and learned a lot from his brother teaching him what he learned in class more than anything else as some days he was so weak he couldn't hold a book of any kind, paperback, hardback or ebook. He loved having Lucian read to him, and he gave his older brother the nickname Luka when he was still very young.

For a while, his family focused on seeing him live to see the next year, and the next, though it was not without growing trepidation that they saw him starting to approach the age of 16. But then, something amazing happened. He started to get better. Whether it was some combination of medicines he was taking, or it was just a miracle itself, Shiloh started to beat the illness that had plagued him nearly since birth. He grew stronger, and after a few months was able to walk around for the first time in years due to how weak he'd gotten. He had an appetite again and as he got better, the medicines he was on decreased in amount. But, it was not to last. It was on his birthday that tragedy struck, and not in a way they expected. They were throwing a small family party to celebrate him turning 16, something the doctors had sworn would never happen because of his illness. As a surprise, they had ordered him a special gift online and it sat in the mailbox where he wouldnt' be able to peek and spoil it. As part of the gift, they let him go outside to retrieve it himself, and that proved to be a fatal mistake. Shiloh had not had the chance to be outside in years, and all of nature had him enraptured. He had just fetched the gift from the mailbox when a crow flew across his line of vision and landed across the road. Curious about the creature, he'd set the box down by the mailbox and went to cross the road to try and pet the interesting creature. No one expected the driver to be speeding through the neighborhood they lived where so many young children lived, where the speed limit was 10mph and people drove at 5mph to keep an eye out for kids playing. The driver, who was later arrested for the hit and run along with drunk driving, hit Shiloh going over 20mph, leaving him critically injured as they sped around a corner and disappeared. Lucian was the one who found him, something had told him to check on Shiloh and when he peeked out the window, he all but leaped through it shortly after to run to his brother as he lay bleeding on the road, critically injured as the crow flew away. He was rushed to the hospital, but the chances of him surviving was grim. They had to bring him back from the brink twice in the ambulance, and his parents despaired. He had finally started to get better, to recover from the illness that had plagued him for so long.

Why did this have to happen now?

It was at that moment the demon appeared, under the guise of a human doctor, he whispered silken lies into their ears, saying that he could end their child's suffering, give him the chance to live like he hadn't before, and anything else that would convince them really. They were willing to sell their souls, both of them, in return for Shiloh being able to live, to not die from this or the illness that plagued him. They didn't realize the consequences of their actions, nor the full implications of the contract they signed. Instead of selling their souls, they sold his and made him a demon. He died shortly after the contract was signed, and when he awoke, he wasn't the same. His parents got to see him long enough to know that he would never die, not by human means that is, before he was whisked away to Hell. Since then, all Shiloh wants is to go back to his family, but he hasn't even figured out how to leave Hell yet, much less what he's now capable of. He's still an adorable puppy, but growing up so sickly left him more than a little shy, and he desperately needs someone to guide him who won't mind him clinging to them while he tries to figure out what's going on.
Where I told you to run, so we'd both be free
        

(  ♖ adores  ) -- Cuddles, Affection, Hugs, Animals, Nature
(  ♜ abhors  ) -- Being Alone, Cruel words, Yelling, Getting hit
(  ♖ fortes  ) -- Being Cute, Super Sweet, Lovable, Kind
(  ♜ faults  ) -- Shy, Stammers, Scares Easily, scared of being alone

(  ♖ family  )
Jacob Zappala || father
Emily Zappala || mother
Lucian 'Luka' Zappala || older brother



Strange things have happened here no stranger would it be



message 14: by dyanne, fallen angel (new)

dyanne | 125 comments Mod
(view spoiler)
▬▬▬▬▬ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴇʀᴀs, ɪᴄᴇ ʜᴀs ᴍᴇʟᴛᴇᴅ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ʟɪғᴇ ▬▬▬▬▬

A U D R E Y D E L I L A H M A C B E T H
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ [ ♔ ] ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
[ female (demisexual + single ) · 32 ( iv/xxviii ) · changing ]

━━━━━ demon ━━━━ velorum ━━━━ knight ━━━━━

♔ ] tᴀᴋɪɴɢ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴏᴡɴ ▬▬▬ It's a little bit of an overstatement when Velorum tells others that Audrey is a force to be reckoned with, but he has good reason to think so. After all, she is the only one of his knights he hasn't fucked, to put it bluntly. It is not a testament to self-discipline or some deranged chastity vow she made when she was once human (far from it, in fact), only that Audrey has a very clear idea of what she wants and what she doesn't want, and having sex with Velorum definitely falls into the latter.

You could say that Audrey is something of a genius. IQ-wise, she has a brilliance that is practically unrivalled for a demon so young. She is the type-A with straight As, finding satisfaction in putting things into boxes with neat labels (thank god they have labelmakers in hell) and organizing anything and everything that doesn't have a proper filing system (it took her a solid year to refile all of Lucifer's execution warrants, and a lifetime of gratitude from Lilith to show for it). Her concentration game is incomparable━ once she puts her mind to something, it's pretty much over, she will find a way to do it, angels and demons be damned. It's rather impressive, but her dignity falls a bit short when she becomes so single-mindedly focused on, say, reorganizing all the execution warrants that she ends up putting Velorum's cashmere socks in the toaster, smearing them with an unhealthy amount of butter (she can't die, so why should she try?) and eating half a sock before beginning to question why the toast tastes so... woolen.

She does not care for morals or humans━ accuse her of selfishness and watch her beam with pride. She does not care for the world, a world that labels selfishness and greed as a vice. Where would Audrey be without her ambition? Who would she be without her ego? She has fought tooth and nail (many nails, actually) for everything she has, and fought harder still to forget the things she's lost along the way. Audrey doesn't simply want to be something, she wants to be someone, and dammit, if that means putting up with that motherfucker (literally) of a sex demon for one more day, well, hopefully her ends justify his means.
♔ ] aᴅᴏʀᴇs ▬ fast food, organizing, the aesthetic
♔ ] aʙʜᴏʀs ▬ velorum, messes, assholes, goats
♔ ] vɪʀᴛᴜᴇs ▬ ambitious, dedicated, brilliant
♔ ] vɪᴄᴇs ▬ stubborn, selfish, short-tempered
pʜᴏᴇʙᴇ ᴛᴏɴᴋɪɴ ━━━ hazel · brown · 5'10" · 123 lbs
With the S-line curves and doe-eyes, there's no denying it: Audrey is hella hot. Her years as a dancer are evident with the confident poise and grace with which she walks. Better yet, she has mastered the art of seduction, complete with the bedroom eyes and the oh-so-enticing husky voice, although it rarely leads to anything significant (unless you count death).

♔ ] dʏɴᴀsᴛʏ ᴅᴇᴄᴀᴘɪᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ ▬▬▬ We all know the story: the perfect girl with the perfect life who rose too high and fell too fast. Perhaps she was fated to fall from the beginning━ tied to the same name, the same curse as the Scottish king, she could not avoid his tragedy. In the end, she embraced it, dragged down to muddy depths where not even her own nightmares were welcome.

Audrey Delilah Macbeth had always been the outlier. She did not live the American dream, but the American paradise. Born into the upper class, there was never a need, simply wants that spoke themselves into haves. For the first fifteen years of her life, the family of four seemed to be something born from the happily ever after of a Disney movie with Audrey as the crowning star: the beautiful, talented, intelligent girl with so much to live for. Dream big, Audrey, they told her. For you, anything is possible.

What bullshit. But Audrey didn't know it, then, and so she dreamt big. She dreamt big and when others dreamt bigger, she just added their dreams onto hers. She did not feel the weight of living, but of expectation, dominoes placed to spell perfection. Each time the stakes grew higher, her ambitions came leaping along.

When did it become too much? When did she begin trading sleep for illegal medication that made you think faster, work harder, do better? When did she stop trusting her own mind and put her fate instead into the oblong yellow pills taken before breakfast and the round pink ones taken before dance and the blue squares that would give you that extra kick before she took that test? When did she start numbly walking the streets at 3 am in the morning, disappearing from home every Friday night only to come crawling through the second story window whispering, Mori? Mori, y'awake? She doesn't remember. She'd rather not. It's better that way.

Audrey was always the outlier. The demons didn't come looking for her. She came looking for them. She remembers the coy smile, the dizzyingly warm chocolate eyes, the fingernails clawing, the teeth biting. She remembers his eyebrows rising in shock as she pushed him back with surprising force and stood up, her voice filled with lust, but not the shade he was familiar with.
I want what you have.

Audrey Macbeth always got what she wanted. The next morning, her "body" had been salvaged from a eight car pile-up. Never one to dwell on the past, she was already long gone. One might say that she'd found the easy way out, but Audrey would beg to differ━ she found the easy way in, and she sure as hell won't come back out without having something to show for it.
♔ ] fᴀᴍɪʟʏ ▬ mother, father, sister
♔ ] aʟʟɪᴇs ▬ velorum, magda, lilith
♔ ] eɴᴇᴍɪᴇs ▬ white lotus, velorum
♔ ] lᴏᴠᴇʀs ▬ nothing worth mentioning

▬▬▬▬ ʜᴇʀᴏᴇs ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ɢᴇᴛ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀᴇᴅ, ʙᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʟᴇɢᴇɴᴅs ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴅɪᴇ ▬▬▬▬



message 15: by mels (last edited Feb 21, 2016 03:59PM) (new)

mels (padmeskywalkers) | 121 comments (view spoiler)



━━━━━━━━━━━ · · · Aaron Erastus Prinz · · · ━━━━━━━━━━
3145 ( 1130 BC ) ▸ male ( bisexual + single ) ▸ demon ( lucifer's knight )
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
( p e r s o n a l i t y ▸ ▸ i’m evil to the core what i shouldn't do i will
They call him insane. And perhaps he is. He's never quite been sure, often feeling as though he stands on the edge of insanity, breathing it in but not yet taking the leap. He still very much has his wits and his intelligence about him. But all the same, he's ever so slightly mad.

He is a man filled with paradoxes and enigmas that none can solve. He delights in subtlety and flamboyance. He will wait a lifetime for revenge, but once his rage is unleashed it cannot be controlled. He destroys all he loves and loves all he destroys. He breaks others but is shattered inside. He causes pain on a small scale, a personal scale. And that, perhaps, is what makes it all the more painful. He is well adept at analyzing what makes others tick, but can't solve any of the enigmas that lie within his own soul. Perhaps he is insane. Or perhaps he's the only sane one.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
admires ▸ Lucifer, himself, clothing, money, pain, music, love
abhors ▸ himself, love
fortes ▸ causing pain, teleportation
faults ▸ vanity, pride, Lucifer

Nicholas Houltbrown ▸ blue ▸ 6'3" ▸ 185 lbs
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
( b i o g r a p h y ▸ ▸ they say i’m emotional what i wanna save I’ll kill
His human life is a mystery to all, and a foggy haze to him. He only vaguely remembers the feeling of humanity, the feeling of being alive. He has pushed these vague memories even deeper beneath the fog, not wishing to remember the weakling he used to be, who fell to his knees in front of Lucifer, begging for gold, jewels, everything in trade for anything. He is so far changed from the mewling human he was then that he has convinced himself it was someone else entirely and has devoted millennia to becoming someone so far from the person that being was that he's nearly unrecognizable.

He has never once regretted his choice (except perhaps in his pawn years, where he drifted aimlessly with no purpose, lost in a feeling of nothingness and insanity). He traded a life filled with nothing for a death filled with everything he could have ever dreamed of. He has become a Knight to the one being with the right to command him: Lucifer himself. He has never wavered in his belief in Lucifer: in fact it almost seems there was never a time he did not serve him. No matter what, when Lucifer calls Aaron will come.

But that doesn't exactly mean he's Lucifer's lapdog. In fact, if you called him that, he might just rip your throat out with his teeth. No, he's a separate individual with his own mind (not that it's very sane these days). He's free to do whatever he so chooses, and that typically involves screwing up as many peoples' lives as possible in the most painful ways. He delights in screwing with people messing them up in the worst ways, though in the end he'll always do what Lucifer asks of him.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
family ▸ dead
allies ▸ Lucifer, Belial, tba
enemies ▸ tba
lover(s) ▸ tba



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