conversation between herself and company abruptly halted, chill creeping up her spine. she’d felt it. a carnivorous hunger, the very one that she’d hoped to experience on her own. ❛ i know you’re around. ❜ the words resonate, and a hand extends to grip the person beside her. ❛ we don’t want to play your little game. ❜ at least not now.
feigned innocence in the form of raised palms , a diametrical contrast to the leer directed at the pair. “ no harm, no foul, ” his voice barely above a whisper, musing about all the games he’d played this evening, and how he was the victor in every round. the atmosphere is taut with uncertainty, an energy elijah’s become fluent in. “ is this a buddy system i’ve just walked into ? ” three pair of eyes all on each other, the blonde’s hand grasping another’s in attempt to assure them, protect them. she is the person of interest. “ i'd like to be your buddy, too. ”
This, Simon supposes, is the thanks he gets for not locking the front door to his shop the minute his watch read seven p.m. He’d been in the basement working on repairs and hadn’t noticed the time and now he has to deal with some pesky mother lurking in the shelves for a Curious George book, or a so-called local historian interested in picking up a Revolutionary War novel that has since been rejected for its inaccuracies. Simon carries neither book in his store. He holds his gloved hand out in front of him. “Don’t come any closer –” The aforementioned gloves, so it seems, were doing little to protect him from the outside world that particular night. “Bathrooms are only for paying customers, and we’re past the closing date. You need to leave. Now.”
with the full moon looming over people’s heads, tensions were escalated. he supposes the shopkeeper cannot be faulted for his insolence. it produces a smile. “ or . . . what ? ” he’s merely teasing, this man will not be elijah’s first fatality of the night. he respects his wishes, halts his movement. “ forgive me, ” a hand placed to his chest in humility, “ i was merely curious if you have a certain work in stock ― ” doesn’t allow the other a moment to protest, “ eice ex mente daemonia tua. ” cast out demons from your mind, a publication about the fallacy of demonic existence. for elijah, a promising insight to bend the will of humanity. he doesn’t offer much explanation to the man opposite him, only awaiting his answer.
𝚂𝙾𝙼𝙴𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚆𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙴𝙳 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝚆𝙰𝚈 𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙴.. ( lee dongwook / demi-male / he/they ) in the darkness of night, under a starless sky, i’ve heard ELIJAH OH ╱ RAMIEL humming a familiar song, hearing damage by thom yorke. the ancient thirty-five year old demon ( prince of hell ) has called marais their home for a few weeks, working as a NEUROSURGEON at MARAIS GENERAL HOSPITAL. their igniting candles with the flick of a lithe finger, eye contact prompting goosebumps, sealed jars brimmed with limbs, the tilted head of a person not understanding the joke, a sense of being watched won’t save them from the supernatural if it ever came down to a war.
𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒.
NAME, ramiel .
VESSEL ALIAS, jaehyun 'elijah' oh .
AGE, thirty five ( physical ) , eternal .
SEX, demi-male ( he ╱ they ) .
ORIENTATION, yeah .
SPECIES, demon .
OCCUPATION, neurosurgeon @ marais general hospital .
PETS, one corgi ( lulu ) ; border collie ( annie ) . came with the elijah vessel .
APPEARANCE, hairstyle ; pale, gossamer skin-tone ; 187 cm ; several body scars.
bred to hate, unable to find a reason your creator would drag you into this unforsaken place. no childhood's hour, no teenage angst, just war. you'll be my best soldier, they say. and you are, it comes naturally as a prince of hell. you don't even have to try. you are a true personification of the most immortal acts one can commit. of course, you're not complaining. you brim with pleasure at each scream you cause, their gritted teeth nothing more than a sign you're doing something right. sometime during the 14th century, you become blasé. torture doesn't excite you as much as it used to, you start dreading your upcoming shifts. so, you abdicate yourself.
your first order of business on earth would've made your creator proud ( old habits die hard , after all ). you found the supernaturally criminal enterprise through little birds, it didn't take long for you to cut through the ranks and execute the leader, a century-or-so year old vampire, and take over. being the boss man actually felt like a liberating win when you'd been a deputy your whole life. training other creatures of the night as assassins for your own profit was nothing more than a hobby for you, and it was an entertaining one, but one pesky toy singlehandedly destroyed the organization. you quickly fled without one look back.
although many imagine demons to appear as red-horned devil, your true form is a simple coal black smoke. you've experienced so many faces in your lifetime. when you find a man by the name of elijah oh, he's pure perfection. a loner ; lacking friends, a spouse, and no family left in the united states. the dogs were a hidden bonus. the man had a deliciously mundane lifestyle. he was too much of a workaholic to do anything other than drink coffee by the gallon and spend his nights drowning in paperwork. his hidden journals, laced with his darkest macabre thoughts, was the cherry on top. he's quite the weirdo, as well. you've used him as a vessel for the past five years, uprooting him from city to city until you feel you've successfully made your mark.
your arrival to a small town named marais comes with a catch. rumours have spread of some sort of cure for the supernatural ━ a chance to live life as a human. you question, why anyone would ever want to do that. no, your interest in this supposed cure is much more on the make. although you're well aware of the pretty penny that could could get you, you crave the power that comes with having something that nobody else has, and everybody wants.
