[Wichapas Sumettikul | he/him ] Another face is seeking safety in New Orleans. Make sure to welcome KRIT VORACHAI to the home of the resilient. Rumor has it that they are an TWENTY SIX/TWENTY SEVEN year old VAMPIRE, who is one of the RETURNED but we’ll keep that a secret. They are said to be CHARMING, but that’s all a façade to cover up their DEADLY nature. We’ve heard that they can be found listening to THE DEVIL IS A GENTLEMAN BY MERCI RAINES, which sums them up pretty well. Let’s hope that they can find a way to survive this harsh new world.
Background: TW: murder, abuse, religion, stalking, idk this whole dude is a tw
Born in Thailand
Parents abstained from magic, but a family 'friend' taught Krit dark magic.
One day at school, he practiced the heartbeat control spell on a classmate, resulting in an irreversible death. Getting away with it fuelled his desire for more.
Somehow his parents figured it out, as the family friend 'tattled' on him.
His parents labelled him possessed by demonic energy, even claiming that Mara (a demon in Buddhism) had his soul.
They chained him up and subjected him to verses and scriptures, forcing him to recite them.
After years of this torture, he killed them in revenge and the family friend that tattled.
Among witches, he became branded as a servant of darkness rather than a servant of nature.
He targets churches, monasteries, and other religious sanctuaries for his killings, interpreting his role as a servant of darkness literally. He finds it amusing given his parents wished to free him of his 'sins'.
As he grew older, he had to expand the playing field, so he's killing many types of people, but monks are his favourite.
Obsession with Juri:
Krit met Juri during Juri's monk days, and while he would have slaughtered him too, he received a flower. Although Juri rejected him, their interactions sparked a crazed obsession, and Krit swore he'd make him fall and see the devil eventually.
Since then, Krit has stalked Juri relentlessly, even following him from Thailand to New Orleans, and despite Juri trying to hide, he used locator spells to trace him.
When Juri fled to America, Krit 'befriended' his family, even making a promise that he'd help find and return him to them.
He has this distorted idea that Juri belongs to him, and the flower he received, he keeps locked up in glass as a token of possession.
His obsession goes towards those who want to claim Juri themselves.
He's always watched Asher and Juri from a distance. Eventually, Asher had enough and killed Krit in the name of the OEA.
*1 year time jump*
Was once again killed by Asher Simmons and presumed dead for the past year.
His countermeasure was having vampire blood in his system; therefore, he 'survived' and transitioned into a vampire.
He's kept in the shadows for the past year to give the illusion that he is dead.
Upon his return, he's on his way to claim what, or rather who, he has deemed his forever.
This fucking guy. What was it going to take to actually get rid of him? If he was being completely honest with himself, Asher wasn’t even surprised that Krit was standing in front of him right now. He was like a boomerang. You could throw as hard as you wanted into literally any direction, but somehow he always came right back.
The sound of his voice was grating and Asher's jaw tensed as each muscle followed suit. “You just won’t stay dead, will you? You know what? I don’t have time for this, so you can save your riddles, or choke on them – whatever, I don’t care.” Pushing past the vampire, he intended to leave the conversation.
"Why stay dead when you're still wriggling? You've still got arms and legs. Shouldn't I take something of yours since I've given you the luxury of killing me twice now?" Asher Simmons was not, however, the man who could stop this endless insanity. No, he was simply a cog in the wheel, spinning it around and around.
Krit returned every time just to laugh in the face of this man, a failed hunter. Despite his wishes to leave the conversation, Krit wouldn't let him escape so easily. As he grabbed the other's arm, Krit found the hunter much more fun than the runaway.
"You don't care, is that honestly what you believe? Because I don't... but if you don't care about Juri anymore, how about another? Your sister is a pretty little thing. I wonder if she can keep me down. I suppose I can bury her further into the ground than you can me." Now he was sure Asher might care about her.
maybe she should've also taken a job as a barman for the evening , at least that way she didn't have to wear an awful dress , plus she would be with juri for the night. he was far better company than anyone else in the room , excluding her mother and family of course. an eyebrow raised as she heard what the other said.
"are we now quoting twilight? twilight died many many years ago." she mused for a moment. "and i wouldn't agree with that remark. some delights don't have to have violent end or an end at all."
“I died, but now I stand here more alive than ever before." His craving for blood had surpassed all reason, no longer a twisted desire but a primal instinct.
"Twilight is child's play. I'm talking about the classics, Shakespeare. Dying in the embrace of your lover is a savage ecstasy." But love was not his goal; love was not what drove him. - it was simply an obsession "There is nothing quite like a brutal end, and I have yet to obtain the violent death that belongs to me."
"i was afraid of that," she answered softly, sadly. "i mean...i couldn't find you and so we figured you were....gone." she hugged him tightly, hating it when people went away. left her. like her parents, her brother. "i'm so sorry. i wish i could have helped," she admitted softly, only pulling back slightly to look up at him.
she'd hated having to mourn her friend, someone she felt close to outside of her sister. she hated losing someone else. she knew she couldn't control it, but she hated it just the same.
star gave him a soft smile, full of the affection that she gave away so freely and openly. "of course. i understand. i'm sure it was so scary coming back. and i can't really be mad that you were trying not to hurt me, can i? besides, you're back. that's all that matters."
"I couldn't leave without saying goodbye to my favourite girl," he reached out to ruffle her hair. "You're the brightest star in my world." His words were like a sugary treat that seemed sweet at first, but would ultimately decay into rot.
It had been a whole year since he last spoke to her, but she remained naive and still fell for his lies. Would she ever realize the truth about her 'friend' and his true intentions? And when she did, it would leave a permanent wound on her soul, one that would never fully heal.
Krit didn't need death or turning into a vampire to become a monster; he had always been one. There was never an ounce of humanity in his heart. Death did not scare him because he had ingrained himself into the lives of others, becoming a memory that would follow them to their graves.
With a smile, he extended his arm towards her and asked, "Would you do me the honor of being my dance partner tonight?"
Juri was not privy to this. Juri was probably feeling the stress from the Mikaelson compund. After all he wasn't exactly free to do as he please. Unknown of the debt needed.
"I suppose so. It is so hard what the mask hides Mr.....Goat Skull." Juri said lack of better name for the stranger. There was a surprised look before taking a deep breath. "It's everyone involved in this hell, the identification cards and some intiation of peace. You ever believe something is too good to be true?" Juri asked not realizing the irony of his situation.
There was a polite bow. "Sorry I thought you were someone else. But he's long dead." Juri said with a nervous grin. "I'm sure you can find someone Mr. Goat Skull, I'm sure people like that intense broodiness." Juri said. There was a genuine laugh. "I've been clean for like a year but fuck it-" Juri said pulling out the bottle of bourbon he cut Brooks off. He poured them both a cup. "To new friends." Juri said with a chuckle.Juri took a hearty sip, his cheeks already turning red. "So what brings you to this hell hole?"
"Too good to be true is the power of belief. If you cannot believe in the good, then how will there be any truth?" He spoke as if he was trying to analyze the other's words, read him, and return advice, but his words were not meant to comfort or reassure. They held a deceptive layer of safety, designed to manipulate the other.
"You only see what you want to see," he continued, reeling in the other. "Trauma has disconnected you from reality, but the truth is if you fear something that is dead… then you're haunted by your past. This ghost of yours, unless you face it head-on, will continue to haunt you until you accept it as yours." Maybe it sounded wise, but that had always been the thing. If Juri could accept that he belonged to Krit, then maybe there would be an escape.
Raising his glass, he offered a toast, "To new friends." He clinked his glass with another. "I'm only here to reunite with something I left behind, though I think I found it tonight."
Her eyes widened, she knew she shouldn't blatantly believe people but he had been good to her - he hadn't judged her for not knowing things people should know and while she wasn't sure if he was a completely good person overall she knew that she wanted to believe him him. "You know, you and I didn't know each other very well but if you ever need to talk or anything I'm here," she offered with a soft smile
"We can work on it, Niss. You know I'm always down to spend time with you, and don't tell him this, but aside from Juri, you're the second best Waite," he said with a squeeze of her shoulder. "How is he? Last time we spoke, things were... rough between us. I guess it's something I said or did... but I'll do whatever it takes to make it right." His voice was laced with false sincerity as he planted seeds of doubt in Nissa's mind. He would manipulate her emotions like a puppet.
Everything about the facade that had been orchestrated by the OEA and now by the Mikaelson's felt false. From the moment he'd stepped into the hall of the compound, the atmosphere had been palpable, as if everybody in attendance was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. And whilst he knew that his father wouldn’t be amongst those attending; far too intelligent to risk it, it didn’t stop the unpleasant thoughts of 'what if' from plaguing Asher's subconscious.
The entire evening was going to be testing out those new skills he'd acquired in therapy, but he wasn’t going to allow for his anxiety – nor his obsession with locating his father rule him. Instead, he knew that he had to remain alert.
Despite the intention to remain alert, he figured that one glass of champagne wouldn't hurt and as he took a sip, he kicked himself for what he was about to say, "shit, this tastes more expensive than an entire months salary."
With his newfound vampire abilities, Krit's senses were heightened to a razor-sharp level. He could pick up even the softest of sounds, but what drew him in was the intense fear radiating from his prey like a pulsing beacon. The thumping of racing heartbeats echoed in his ears, each one heavy with anxiety on the brink of bursting.
The masks adorning their faces were no longer barriers; he could easily discern the voice of his slayer. "Asher Simmons," he called out, taunting him out into the open. "There's a sweet nectar I'm eager to taste, but as I do, will you be the one to savor death this time?"
It had become a twisted routine for Krit to torment the hunter for his repeated failures, but now twice? Could there possibly be a third? "Perhaps it is an eternity of death that we shall share together."
Juri was always one to be paranoid. Despite the work he did on himself, there was that nagging paranoia telling him something will end him. Juri tried to ignore it but that feeling as the other sauntered around.
"Hare." Juri faintly corrected, he was called bunny or easter bunny at this point. "Let's just say the unknown for brevity's sake." As much as he doesn't like Klaus, at least he was a bit straight forward threatening him. Better the devil you know then the one you don't. And this was unfortunately the devil he didn't know.
Juri's blood ran cold hearing the you. It felt too familiar, too on point, too much like a man that should be dead. Juri was feeling lightheaded. He couldn't come back-he saw the dead body. There was no way Krit was able to come back a third time. Juri out of instinct pulled out a cigarette, his fingers trembling.
Krit's dead body had been a vessel of unending doubts. That corpse had reanimated, dragging itself back into the world of the living. For the past year, Krit had nurtured that festering paranoia, and now he returned to collect its due. To feast on the fear.
"Are you afraid one of those guests at the tea party harbors an unknown madness, Mr. Hare? I want to believe we're safe tonight; that's the pretense, even if the mysteries behind their masks make you question what lies beneath. It’s all part of the thrill—the element of surprise. But if you're feeling uneasy, don't fear letting it out. I find conversing with strangers a potent remedy." Yet they were no strangers.
Krit waved his hand dismissively, suggesting Juri had misinterpreted his intentions, letting paranoia become the night’s true villain. "No, that wasn't my meaning," he said, shaking his head as though flustered by Juri’s gaze. "Maybe this atmosphere is scrambling our signals, but I said I'd have whatever you are having." Noticing Juri's trembling fingers, he smiled out of false concern, "However, are you certain you won't be the one needing that drink tonight?"
star was none the wiser to his lack of care. skyla had warned her that he was not a good person, someone to stay away from, but it had been hard for her to wrap her head around. she knew nothing of the masks he wore. especially with her. her naivety reigned.
she was still shocked to even see him so she merely nodded at first. she'd believed him dead, that she'd never see him again and yet...there he was, moving towards her. in a moment of hesitance driven by surprise, she stood there while he wrapped his arms around her. after the briefest of moments, she wrapped her arms back around him, hugging him back. "where have you been? i thought...i thought you were dead," she muttered into his chest.
"I was. Dead," he confessed to her, confirming her fear. As she wrapped her arms around him, his arms tightened around her, luring her to the serpent's lair. "I only remember waking up. I couldn’t feel the earth anymore, and I—I had to escape, Star. I couldn't stay here with them hunting what I've become. I couldn't stay."
Sure, he could have stayed—but where would be the thrill in that? Nothing thrilled him more than knowing people like Asher Simmons believed they'd won. Krit had returned, but now as a true monster, a vampire. He couldn't wait to witness the shock on that hunter's face.
Currently, however, Star was great entertainment.' "Can you forgive me? For keeping this from you? I wanted to tell you—Star, I really did. But I was terrified. Terrified I'd hurt you."
She raised a brow as the other seemingly spoke to her. She had been lost in the music and the seemingly endless crowd of people genuinely enjoying themselves. Sure she wasn't the best dancer but she could enjoy watching others. That's when she realized who it was - "Krit?" she quietly asked, hearing the news about the other's death. "Oh my god, Krit!" she beamed as she tackled him into a hug, "please tell me nothing happened to you - please tell me everyone was wrong," she said, looking up at him with worried eyes, unaware of the other's true nature
The chances of remaining as a ghost were dwindling, but the thrill of being unmasked was as riveting as playing them all fools. He might be flying under one Waite's radar for now, but the other, rushing to embrace him, had already seen through his mask. Well, only seeing him as the friendly family friend she had always believed him to be, but who he truly was - that mask remained firmly in place.
"I lost my magic," he confessed softly. "I can't feel it anymore. I can't feel the earth." The latest guise of Krit embraced the vampire persona, and oh, the delight he took in manipulating sympathy, pretending his new existence was a tormented struggle. "I had to get away—I couldn't stay around anymore."
star was enjoying the masquerade. she couldn't deny that she loved dressing up and going to a party with her sister and future brother in law. of course, she ended up the third wheel again and had snuck off to make sure to give them some alone time. she didn't want to be a bother. as she was wandering around, feeling like a literal fairy princess, she stopped short.
she thought he was dead. sky had told her that he wasn't the best of guys but he had always treated her so nicely, it was hard for her to believe. but she hadn't been prepared to see him at the masquerade of all places. hadn't planned to see him anywhere. "krit?" she asked, her voice soft.
Krit had used Star, twisting her idea of friendship for his own amusement. The bright light she was, he could soon dim by breaking to her the harshest of truths. He was not someone to grieve over or miss. He was not a friend. His kindness was an illusion, just like the masks they both wore tonight.
Still, he intended to play her for a fool once more, feigning kindness. "Star?" he called, his tone imbued with awe and shock—though, of course, it would never be as genuine as hers. It could never be. He stepped towards her, wrapping his arms around her. "I'm sorry."
Juri Waite was a witch, a witch that thought the worst was over. No longer by Asher's side, he found himself closer to Isla. And following her where the wind took her was freeing.
He missed the liberty South America gave him compared to New Orleans. Being labeled a witch and still under Klaus' tutelage was more to be desired.
Still it was a better life without Krit. It was a much happier life. The thoughts of spending time as the night twindled gave him hope.Almost as maddening as the March Hare himelf.
"Violet ends?" Juri questioned trying to adjust the hearing aide. Juri was not paying attention. He turned around and was taken aback by the frightening appearance. "Trying to gif people heart attacks are you?" He joked. Juri turned back around quick. "What would you like to order sir?"
Krit never aimed to give anyone a heart attack, but he always ensured their hearts would cease beating. He had accomplished this countless times before, yet it wasn't his current intention. Still, the sound of racing heartbeats and the scent of fear—oh, he could hear it, feel it—and it was more exhilarating than ever. The amplified senses that came with vampirism were utterly intoxicating.
"Why? Is the little bunny scared?" He chuckled, making sure not to let any malice seep into his tone. "And if he is, what exactly is he so afraid of?" His words might have come across as curious or even concerned, but it was all just an act.
Prompted to unveil any hidden fear, the reply was simple: "You," he whispered softly, his voice barely audible even to the keenest ears. Yet the way his lips shaped the word made its meaning unmistakably clear.
He groaned, the scent from the other reminding him of the day at the carnival a year ago. "And here I thought the dead stopped coming back, apparently the devil didn't want you," he said, wondering if it was even worth his time to get into it with the other. "Do you ever not get off on violence or should I get you a sock and show you a room?"
"The devil calls to me with open arms, but I have risen above servitude to the darkness. I embraced and became one with the darkness birthed by the very nature that forbids it." The transformation into a vampire demanded the sacrifice of his magic, severing his ties to nature, not that he ever served nature—now he was a creature bound by death.
Even before as a witch, there had never been anything human about him, and now that bloodlust was amplified. He was not cursed, but blessed, and he intended to rejoice in this gift of new life. "When the devil walks among us, we must join him."
A low, menacing laugh in response to the other's suggestion. "Lead me to a room, but leave the sock behind," he purred. "You'll be more than enough for my needs."
A chortle of laughter surged from Klaus’ lips, his hands lifting as he gestured towards the room “which part of this speaks to your theory of defeat?” he countered, his expression having become sterner for the arrogance of his company. His lips twitched given the reciting, no truer words had been spoken – but he wasn’t about to give Krit the satisfaction.
He didn’t need the praise of others, nor the validation but the greediness that festered within would certainly entertain hearing it. The crown had cost him – it always had and always would, but no matter what it might cost, he always seemed willing to pay the price. “If you do not sacrifice for what you want, then what you want becomes the sacrifice.”
There was a wry smile that formed against his lips, as much as Krit might wish to get a reaction from him – he’d have to do better than a stray meal in the compound. Turning to face the vampire, his voice lowered, “try anything mate and i’ll have you put down like a feral dog. I’d offer to do it myself” pausing, he gestured towards the cuffs of his jacket, “the shirt is Egyptian cotton, difficult to get blood out of.” A hand then rose, gesturing towards the guards who were all too eager to approach “it seems as if you aren’t quite taking me seriously. So go on, mate -- try it. I dare you and allow me to prove otherwise.”
"It's neither victory nor defeat." His gaze tore around the room. "You are shining the boots of those who once trampled on you. Does the Kingdom you envisioned rest solely on an alliance? An alliance that unmasks your people on a night they wish to be seen as equals. A true victory means to not share what belongs to you and only you... unless it is your desire to present it so." Krit overstepped his place, challenging the very King. "Kings and Queens come and go—watching things crumble is part of the fun. Destruction opens new doors for new kings and queens."
The shirt comment made him laugh. Krit didn't have the same elegance; he could care less about getting blood on something. The point of spilling blood was for it to stain the earth as a reminder. "If you are simply afraid to stain your shirt with my blood, then are you the man, the great king you have claimed to be over the centuries you have lived? Has the greatness died with those enemies? Put me down if you wish, but know I am not thy enemy. But if we are being honest, you seem more like a dog than I do." He ended with a subtle bark, "Woof." He raised his hands in surrender at the motion of the guards, but surrender it was not. "I am sure to keep those guards of yours entertained. Someone must ensure the night is not a bore."
Descending from the top of the grand staircase, Klaus plucked a flute of champagne from a waiter upon reaching the bottom. His eyes were careful to scan the disgruntled crowds for any sign of those who might pose difficulty for the evening. He was under no illusion that the attendance would be voluntary either, but in the grand scheme of things, the evening would become a apart of great importance.
The King had returned for his throne in New Orleans and he would not rest until he had reclaimed his birthright.
"I trust that I should not take that attitude personally" he quipped to his left, sighing as he reached for another flute of champagne to offer his guest. "Don't look so suspicious, just accept the bloody drink."
"The once-mighty King of New Orleans has knelt to his enemies, his crown now a symbol of defeat. Tonight, he has surrendered his once-great kingdom to them, his former subjects turned conquerors." The words rolled off his tongue with a hint of amusement. "The fall of a great empire is always preceded by internal decay," he recited, quoting the famous downfall of the Roman Empire.
Still, Krit was not one hoping for the mighty King's downfall, but the opposite. An admiration, perhaps? "Such feats are not without suspicions, but I must say, I admire your risk. A true king knows sacrifice," he remarked, taking a flute of champagne from the original's hands. He raised his glass in a toast, celebrating what was being hailed as a victory over the OEA.
"However," he continued, a sly smile creeping onto his face, "my tastes are far more…bloody than you may have anticipated." He alluded to acts that may have taken place—or perhaps ones that were yet to come. "In fact, I couldn't resist trying a particularly bloody drink I stumbled upon while exploring the maze of rooms in this grand establishment." His words dripped with excitement, as if he was willing to step over the line and nibble on a few of the guests.
A witch no more, Krit now prowled as a monster of the night, and he had kept under the OEA's radar for a year, perfecting his vampiric abilities. He had thwarted death from Asher once more, for what the hunter believed to be the end was simply the re-awakening.
While the guards manning the gates of the compound required identification, which may have been an issue for a supposedly dead man, Krit had wrangled such from a quick meal prior to his arrival, their squealing still fresh in his ears as was their blood on his lips.
Sinister thoughts played under the mask, eyeing up the buffet of guests on display. Dancing with the devil required demons to appear, and he had always embodied the very thing.
"These violent delights have violent ends," he muttered to no one in particular. Funny how such a phrase, once spoken by a dead man, was uttered again as if he was already on his hunt for something of his. "Do you not agree?"
