LIVING WITH A WHOLE CLAN of vampires could be as dangerous as it was protective if you weren't careful. if you grew so accustomed to the presence of so many like you .. that you didn't realize another lingered before it was too late. roman stopped, digging his hands abruptly into the wood fence on the very edge of his property line. while the vampire now standing in front of them couldn't enter the church without an invitation .. and even then, might struggle against the presence of the family - she could absolutely pass into the vast yard. "that what you think?" roman replied tentatively, knuckles white with their grip. they were frustrated. mostly. scared, a little. fine. scared a little. but extremely frustrated with themself. "you got a lotta business looking into souls?" roman needed to be closer to get a better read of the other, but that would put them in a far more vulnerable position. she didn't seem aggressive, but did any predator as smart as they were? "do you know where you are?" he quickly interjected upon hearing she might not be at the foot of the hill on purpose. roman thought he recognized the face, someone he'd seen recently enough out in the woods. someone that lived - presently in prospect hill. the kind of people to keep away, certainly. most this far on the edge of down were. but not the kind to harbor a vampire. the williams survived off of their particular brand of fear. "you're the one who's been scaring off all those delicious, nutritious snacks?" they joked, eyebrows raised in mock shock. then narrowed in mock offense, only actually laughing when the other poked fun at the church. "something like that. i'd delight in a holiday or two, though, i suppose." he flashed a somewhat restrained smile before finally loosening his grip on the fence. a splinter jutted into his palm. he ignored it. "you're from around here. i've seen you before. don't lie."
HER gaze focused upon roman, eventually - taking in the sharp turn of jaw and slight curvature of cheek, the slope of shoulders - and their jutting veins, traveling from where their fingers clutched so tight at wood. wondered briefly if vampires bled the same as humans - if their blood tasted as sweet; and her gaze dropped once more - burying itself into the dirt. "i don't joke about the nature of souls - my heart weighs heavier than any feather." after all - she had just stood there and wondered the nature of his blood; imagined it so vividly she tasted the copper between her teeth, lips puckering as she sucked onto the imagined taste before twisting into a sad smile. "i imagine it's the opposite - we're more inclined towards the shell inhabited." a hand subconsciously raised to her collarbones, fingers digging into the dip of skin - she thought it'd been an exaggeration, those damn twilight movies; but no, her skin felt as smooth and cool as marble. shell - like. "of course i do," soleil's eyes snapped back up towards roman, suddenly; a small, unrelated laugh bubbling out from her chest. of course she knew where she was - every step minded a purpose of their own, but she'd never be left unaware of where they'd bring her. she was outside the church's yard - conversing with one of the vampires residing there like they were next - door neighbors; her mother would keel over - her father would kill. maybe him - maybe her. maybe himself. "harvest church. second worst church in town." she'd spent most of her life at our lady of sorrows - pretending to know the words to their hymns, tossing communion wafers into the soil of the nearest plant every first sunday. listening to prayers that would almost always go unanswered. "i won't apologize for being selfish - i always favored red gushers. tomato tomahto." it felt wrong to joke about her newfound nature and the people she's fed on since, no matter how hypothetical they were; but it slipped out easily - too naturally. coping upon coping. "you might be able to celebrate two birthdays - birth and rebirth. like jesus, i suppose." her gaze flickered from his, settling on his loosened grip and the splinter that stuck out just barely from their hand. "i'm not an uncommon sighting, if i must confess. some even see me walk to and fro' town. may i?" soleil nodded towards their splintered flesh, still at a distance - still wary. "i only bite when necessary."
Valentina let themselves lay back to try and find what Soleil spoke of, but they really knew nothing about the stars other than how they burn. Constellations weren't things they cared for.
Hunter was the one who really cared for them and knew all there was to know. When they were younger they'd spend ages just staring up at the sky praying for one to hit them and take them away. It never happened, which was yet another reason why Valentina gave up on prayers.
They'd only ever done it for Rosa. When they thought she cared for that type of thing.
"Seems like she got what she deserved if you ask me. A mere human playing games with a God should have known better." they spoke in unison.
A lot of their thoughts often mingled, which caused Val to smile up at Soleil.
"Got lucky if you ask us. We'd have forced her to walk over lava. Or make her feel like she's drowning while breathing fresh air."
Hunter: Or stretch her to death
Xander: Give her a flesh eating disease
"Tie her to a tree and let the birds get at her for days at a time."
EVEN the thought of torture felt visceral - all too real, like they could imagine the heat beneath her feet - the air leaving her lungs; the peck of beak against their blooming red skin. A reflexive shiver brushed at her shoulders - eyes casting down onto Val and the white gleam of her fangs. "She tried to appease the sea monster by sacrificing her daughter, Andromeda - but she was saved by Perseus. So Poseidon strung her up against the stars, bound to her forever throne -" Soleil's arms extended out from her, side by side - like wings unfurling, or arms bound apart from one another; her chin tilting up towards the heavens once more as they spoke, "- I feel that is an appropriate punishment - is it not worse? To be bound in one place - above all other, but never to die? Never to walk, or even fold one's arms. Just watching and waiting for an end that'll never come. Doesn't immortality feel like that - a punishment?" She never wanted to live forever - it'd never been a thought in her mind. It was something that was supposed to be out of her power. Her death was supposed to be natural. "When everything on earth wastes away, as all natural things do, where do we go?"
"What do you think?"
Dante pulled out two tops from the rack before them and lined it with his torso for a better view.
"I love the collar, but those seem look like they need some work."
"SERIOUSLY?" Aster was sure Dante could feel every bit of annoyance radiating off of them - they hated shopping, standing - stalling, and there they were. Shopping. Standing. Stalling. "They're both fugly. One washes you out and makes you look like one of the Cullens - bad wig install included - and the other one makes you look like you're part of the fucking Warblers - are you about to sing Teenage Dream at me, Dante? Do you have what it takes to be little Blaine Anderson? No - by the way. You don't." With a louder than necessary huff - they turned towards the rack and thumbed through several shirts before pulling one away. "Here. You need to start dressing like a DILF, or something, Christ -"
After what felt like a good five minutes of searching, Lupita made their way towards Noah with a depleted expression upon their face.
"Could you please help me find any CD's you might have of Mark Harris?"
He seemed busy so they hadn't wanted to interrupt earlier on, but the more they stared at the CD's the more alike they all became. They had no patience for it.
"He's a gospel artist. I tried looking by last name, but that didn't really for for me."
LEGS drawn up over the counter, ankles crossed over one another, and an old music magazine from the 90's strewn over his chest - Noah was on a one - way ticket to dreamland when their voice registered, "Oh - fuck -" his chair tilted back and he scrambled forward desperately - legs and arms flailing 'bout before toppling over completely. Within moments of being down, however - Noah jumped back up into action, like nothing had happened. " - Mark Harris? Like the guy who played uhhhhh - sexy smuggler guy in the uhhhh - robot, no - space movie? I'm your father? OH! Hans! He makes gospel music now? I mean, rock on! I'm sure it's like - banging. Futuristic. Angels in space type shit - but, uh - shit. Have you tried looking by our movie soundtrack CDs?"
"Okay, okay, so give me an idea if mine are really so tragic." Benito asked, putting down his pen and staring at the empty list before him.
He didn't normally care to work through what happens at the strip club. His manager and event organizers usually did the work before he could even think to, but for the sake of playing a part he invited the other out for drinks while the place was closed.
"Anything but a masquerade, please. That's overly done, and honestly just a pain for security reasons."
Benny bit the pen in his hand, before tapping it on the table.
"Playboy Bunny? Disco?"
IT wasn't often that Rohan felt scandalized - he wasn't ashamed to have indulgent fun, to give into pleasure every once in a while; but being seated inside Pink Paradise of all places... his mother would die on the spot. He'd never hear the end of it - even with the club closed, secluded - he kept glancing back towards the door; like his greatest concern were his family stepping inside, and not the company of the demon sat besides him. "Disco could be fun -" Spoken half - absentmindedly, Rohan leaned against his hand before peering over at Benito. " - or some sort of 60's, 70's night. Go - go dancers, the uh - girls from Austin Powers. You know - the ones with guns for... breasts. Get shaggy with it."
"--- explain that again, one more time." The demons slender digit upholds the notion of once more listening to the absurd explanation of something that clearly didn't exist the last time they'd been upon this earth. If there was one thing that the demon had always abhored more than anything upon each summoning, it was the absurdity that the mortal race considered this an advancement of any kind. "Slower this time."
STIFLING what would've been a laugh if Rohan hadn't known better - he slid on an easy smile to hide his discomfort of being in the presence of a demon, and in his market at that - before reaching over to grasp the card reader. "Everything's digital now, so your money can be directly hooked up to your phone - and people don't have to dole out cash anymore. I think it's stupid - but that's just the old man in me. Do you - do you have a card set up on your phone? Apple pay? Samsung? I can set it up for you, if you want - no strings attached."
"I can't tell you how much I appreciate you comin' down here with me." Hazal was in desperate need of some company and a cup of coffee. She was finally feeling up to be out and about after the freak mugging a few months ago. She scrunches up her nose as she leans her head against her hands, her eyes resting on the person next to her. "Catch me up on what's been going on with you."
SOLEIL'S fingernails tapped against the mug between their hands - eyes instinctually drawn to the sunshine leaking out from the cafe's windows; she missed standing out in the sun - basking in its warmth. She couldn't even enjoy the coffee in front of her - it tasted only like rot, now. "M'just working away these days -" It hadn't been a lie; between shifts at the grocer's and her own, continued patrols - Soleil couldn't help but want to keep busy. Anything to get her mind off of her... affliction. "- Nothing special. Just minding my own and counting down the days 'til Beltane - Ma's almost done building the wicker man." She sat back in her seat, pulling her hands away from her coffee in order to nibble upon a fingernail. "How about you? Healed well and everything?"
They stared up at the stars, imagined them all raining down around them and burning the world straight to hell. Scorching the plants, the trees, the animals, and all those lowly humans that roamed amuck. The image brought an instant smile to Valentina's lips and they signed with content.
"Do you recognize any constellations?" they asked, turning to the person besides them.
Hunter's head laid on their feet, while Xander kneeled off to their far left pulling out what seemed to be weeds from the ground.
Hunter: There's the big dipper!
"Be more original." Val bit back before rolling her eyes, "What about you? What do you see?"
OTHER vampires uneased her; before - it'd been easy to mark the differences between one another. One heart beats, the other doesn't - one kills relentlessly, the other kills necessarily. One walks within the sun's rays - the other only in its reflection. Now - everything jumbled together, messed up her already threadbare mind; Soleil had to remind herself at times to not walk into broad daylight - that she was still... her - somewhere behind the incessant bloodthirst, an itch stuck at the back of her throat. Wanting for more - always more. "Cassiopeia belongs to the horizon now - but you can still see her dangling from her chair." Her gaze switched from high to the sky, to the ocean melting into it. "She was a king's wife, once - who boasted about her beauty being greater than the nymphs who resided in Poseidon's sea - he became so angered that he sent the monster Cetus to destroy their kingdom."
IT FELT STALE OUTSIDE, IN A WAY that was hard for roman to articulate. two - hundred years into the business of being a thinking being, and they still struggled to find the right words. there was no space the vampire couldn't fill with immense silence, it seemed. they'd come to the edge of their family property, the church atop the hill looming large behind them. like a second set of eyes trained into the dark stretching expanse. a noise had startled roman out of the thoughts they had been getting lost in - potentially for days. like someone, or something, calling out. "yo," they started, feet inching closer to the road, eyes adjusting. "can we help you with something? there a soul that needs saving out here?" we. like anyone from the church would come outside to greet lingering strangers. like roman was in the business of saving souls.
GROWING up - there'd been talk of the church atop the hill, lonesome among the trees and untouched grounds. vampires lay there, her father would say - wrinkled finger pointing upon the building, blotting out the church's cross beneath his print; a whole commune of bloodsuckers. she never dared to step too close, even on her patrols amongst the forest's edge - her uncle's mangled body a violent thought behind her eyelids; the memories not her own, but still lingering within her. now - soleil toed the line between woods and church ground. she could feel their presence now - overwhelming numbers, hive - like in their nature. she'd always been - afraid; of vampires, of death, of the life she'd been born to lead; now she was afraid of herself, too. "i'm afraid my soul's beyond saving." truth held within a quiet, deadpan voice - did vampires have souls; had hers' gone, now that she'd been turned? when she died - eventually, when someone smart had the sense to send a stake through her heart - where would she go? was there anywhere left for her? "i didn't mean to intrude," she toed a pebble against the road, kicked it into gravel. "i'm just wandering - sometimes i practice my ghoulish groans in these here trees to keep the town kids from exploring where they oughtn't." a near - uncomfortable silence followed her lackluster joke; gaze lingering on roman before lifting back to the church house behind them. "you a - vampire jehovah witness, or something?"
The late hours didn't bother him, Jake's entire life had been shaped to exist as the epitome of a hunters life, and yet, some things apparently still sought to surprise him. Beyond pristine headstones and tombs lay those less well taken care of. Trees and weeds overgrown by years, turning the space further back into something more swamp looking than anything. His flashlight flickered across stones until the beam of light crossed over candles, no longer lit yet the trail of smoke that lifted from them hinted recent use. "Fucking witches," he mutters beneath his breath, the snap of brush underfoot drawing quick his attention, "This is what were doing now?" His body follows suit, turning slowly to meet the familiar face, "I thought we knew better by now," We, being them. The Oliver family were a gold mine among the hunter community, and sneaking up on any one of them was a risk better left alone.
ALL she could smell was blood - in all directions, miles on end; hundreds of warm bodies and pulsating veins - Soleil felt like a shark in a school of minnows. One wrong move - and there'd be blood wafting through the water; one wrong move - and someone would die tonight. The nearest source - felt familiar in its energy; but in her hunger's haze - she wouldn't have been able to differentiate who from who, what from what. A meal was a meal; at least until the figure turned around - and Soleil's feet rooted in place. "Mr. Oliver." She greeted - the mechanism inside her brain that told her to get her shit together - to act human - clicking into place. "I just thought I'd ought to keep you on your toes, I suppose. Pop says it's good to stay spry." Her hands wrung together nervously, fingers fidgeting with the charm around her wrist - the one that concealed her newfound vampiric aura. Without it - there hadn't been a doubt in her mind that she would've been staked the moment she stepped onto her family's property. "Is this where your patrol brings you tonight? There was a summoning a fortnight ago - but there'd been nothing but the smell of sulfur by the time I stumbled across the site."
The thick scent of blood a near permanent stain this far underground, but nobody who thought to speak the phrase to the entrance should have expected anything less. That was one of the better details passed down with each new owner, only those so willing would ever catch a glimpse of the underground fight club. There was a round of applause, rambunctious and filled to the brim with a certain devilry as a body hit the outer, chained wall of the arena with a callous thump. The werewolf grinned, something jagged, and unhinged, "You sure you're not up for it? There's an opening."
THERE was something about the unrelenting bloodshed of Purgatory that excited Aster; something gladiatorial - like they were an audience member perched in eager anticipation to see who'd fall first. To see who was the weakest - and who was the strongest. It was useful information to store; they never knew when they'd need extra manpower. Aster whipped their head around to face Rafe - forcibly peeling their eyes away from the round's winner. "Who - lil' ol' me?" They feigned something innocent, a bat of their eyes - before their mouth curled into a sharp grin. "That depends - how dirty can I play? Been a while since I've knocked someone out."
Asher walks down the beach, his gaze lifting up to find someone sitting by the shore. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his packet of cigarettes. He taps the bottom of the box against the palm of his hand before opening it, plucking one of the sticks out and placing it between his lips as he closes the distance between them. "Need one?" He asks, holding the box out to them.
THEIR mind's a swirl of thoughts that connect and disconnect, bridges built and burnt and built up again; and a laundry list of responsibilities they oughtn't put off for much longer - but they linger still, on the beach, unwilling to move from their spot. Their legs drawn up - back firm against the cooling sand, hair clumped and knotted together - and their eyes narrowing at Asher's hovering form. "Awfully kind of ya - to what do I owe this pleasure and act of fucking - nobility?" Aster lifts their arm, a lazy flick of wrist as they compel a cigarette to slip from the box and between their fingers. "Got a light - or are you gonna make me perform party tricks?"
"I know I said be early but damn," Daniela laughed, quickly shrugging off the connection between her power and the bits and pieces she'd been moving around in the backroom. The centrifuge clicked off, needles stowed away within their drawer and the stacked shelves of coloured inks now sat in perfect order of the colour wheel. A trick of the mind, and purely out of habit, telekenisis had complied with the nephilim's every thought the second she was alone, until she wasn't. How much had they seen? "You're gonna scare a girl half to death sneaking up like that."
TIME was often lost to Noah - despite growing up in the mortal realm, and his connections to it - his body felt like it worked on fae - time; an internal clock that ticked all wrong. Fast always felt slow - and slow just felt... long. "Sorry! I got excited - n' Bad Track's right 'round the corner, n-e-ways. Practically like - neighbors. Our buildings are prob' besties - matching brick n' everything. I'd have to move like, super slow - like get on the floor n' inch like a worm slow." He leaned against the doorframe, as if it'd anchor him down - but he rocked back n' forth anyways, a near stumble when leaned too forward - and a sheepish grin to follow. "What'd you even wanna do today?"
Sawyer looks at the water, watching the waves dance with one another as the person lays down next to her. She exhales as she raises her fingers up to her lips as she listens to the person talking. They've been popping around more often, especially if she's not around the twins. Before she can respond to what they are saying, she hears the sand next to her. Her head turns to look over at the other (hopefully alive) person standing there. "Space is free if you want company," she says, her eyes taking them in for a moment.
HE'S never felt the tell - tale pull towards the ocean - never felt beckoned home by the waves, or comforted by the salt that now settles over his skin. It's almost uncomfortable - walking salt lamp, right to the warmth that constantly emits from him. But he likes the warm sun above head - has to remind himself not to instinctively flex out his wings and fly towards the ever - growing star. "Thanks, dude!" It's a cheerful reply, one that doesn't carry his discomfort but a wide, toothy smile instead as he settles into the sand besides Sawyer and pulls an apple from seemingly nowhere - infinite pocket hack. "D'you wanna share? My dentist says if I keep biting into apples like I do that my gums are gonna have recess or something - so I gotta cut it, anyways. I've got a knife n' everything - but I think I can break it in half if I try like - really, really hard. I've seen people do it before - you've gotta like - palm it, gently - I think -"
welcome to marina, ROHAN DYAL ( cis man, he/him ) ! they are a THIRTY SIX year old HUMAN / EXORCIST who resides in PROSPECT HILL. They work as the OWNER OF GREEN FARMER'S MARKET and are said to look a lot like RAYMOND ABLACK. People around the island find them to be PRAGMATIC and AFFABLE, but also FLUCTUANT and ENERVATED. what do you think?
CONTENT WARNINGS FOR ILLNESS, ADDICTION, CAR ACCIDENT, AND DEATH.
profile.
full name β rohan dyal.
nickname(s) βn/a! but he'd think a nickname would be cute.
date of birth & age β december 18th, 1988. thirty6.
gender / pronouns β cis man. he/him.
sexuality β bisexual.
typing β human / exorcist.
occupation β owner of the green farmer's market. exorcist. farmer. lover.
astrology β sagittarius sun, taurus moon, leo ascending.
interests β opening his doors to those who need it. hot drinks. long cigarette breaks and rolling his own. sitting in the fields in the springtime. homecooked meals. things he oughtn't know. magic. resurrection. the afterlife.
aversions β the dishes in his sink that just keep piling up. the cold that wraps so firm against his shoulders and refuses to lift. killing the chickens, so they just keep multiplying. door - to - door salesmen. vandals in the market. firearms.
next in queue β sweet disposition by the temper trap; she's so high by tal bachman; man in the box by alice in chains.
notable features β the warmest eyes with deep - set bags beneath them, and a well - kept beard.
general disposition β straight but easygoing - firm in his stance, but shoulders unburdened.
last known location β leaving the farmer's market way after all the stalls had packed up and gone - a cardboard box of clanking metal and glass beneath his arm.
scrying mirror & kindred β clark kent ( smallville ), captain america ( marvel ), glenn rhee ( the walking dead ), ted mullens ( schitt's creek ), sam winchester ( supernatural ).
brief history.
the dyals have always lived in marina, as far as they could date back. rohan's father, his father before him - and their fathers before them. they are as part of marina as marina is part of them - and with a family history so prominent, they've always been aware of their supernatural counterparts.
that being said - growing up hadn't been easy. there were the good parts - a family home that stood for years, atop a hill and overlooking acres of field and crop, meadow and wood. a mother and a father who loved him and his siblings dearly, fiercely. but there were the spirits - always drawn to his father, shaking the foundations of their home. the late - night visitors who'd talk to his parents in hushed voices besides the fireplace, a smaller rohan peeking out through the stair bannisters to overhear worry - laced words - uprisings and disappearances, strange symbols and entities that left black tar in their wake.
he watched as his father's work - as both farmer and exorcist, medium and market owner - consumed him, exhausted him. as his mother fret over land that wouldn't grow - of crops that all rot before ripening.
demons have always haunted their family - manageable at best, disastrous at worst. shadows in the hallways - eyes in mirrors; an unease at the back of their necks. a bloodline cursed to become weaker and weaker - to walk earth time after time again and live the same fate. to never reach nirvana - to only have a soul left weak and restless.
illness; rohan was particularly afflicted; an illness that wouldn't let - origins unknown but abnormal. his body in a constant yielding pain. as hard as he worked - weakness would come twicefold. dizzying spells and deep - set fatigue - sleepless nights and an ache deep inside him; coughs that spit up the same black ichor.
addiction; he still struggles with it intensely - waves of nausea and unsteadiness, striking without a moment's notice. no amount of potions or medicine seem to help it - and he's turned to... other methods to at least alleviate some of the pain. it never lasts - but rohan repeats the cycle, knowing that it'll still never be enough.
rohan married fairly young - fresh out of high school to his high school sweetheart; he'd known he loved her from the day they met and he would've crossed the ends of the earth for her. they had a child together only a few years later - a daughter who soon became the apple of his eye - who he would cross universes for.
car accident, death; but as life would've had it - when their daughter was only a few years old, rohan's wife was in a fatal car accident. some parts of him felt it - wrong. like there'd been supernatural forces at play - because none of it added up. the details all wrong - and it was chalked up as a simple accident. a mistake.
nights and days he waited - waited for her to return to him in any form that she could - the one ghost he knew he could never exorcise - but she never appeared, for one reason or another. the fact crushed him - and for a long time he wasn't okay; but rohan had a daughter to raise, and a family to take care of - and he forced himself to move along.
ummm but besides that! he's inherited the family land as the oldest son, alongside the green farmer's market - that his father once owned, and his father before him, and so on and so on. his parents still live in their family home - and rohan takes care of them. in the small free time he has - he's followed in his father's footsteps in becoming an exorcist. holds his spirituality close to his heart.
facts & temperament.
a fun fact about rohan is that he has hundreds of past lives. centuries of the same soul living different lives, though rohan has no memory of them. the occasional dream - and odd sense of familiarity when it comes to certain people - but the memories of his past lives are inaccessible to him.
unfortunately a perpetrator of dad humor. genuinely thinks he's so funny but he's not please don't enable him.
has a teenage daughter! considers her his greatest accomplishment and while he considers himself a stark pacifist he would kill for her.
works a lot, almost nonstop. is either always found on the farm or at the farmer's market, tending to stalls and handling the finances, vendor rent, etc. etc. sometimes at the church, if only to convene with other local exorcists.
works alongside witches often to try and find a cause and cure for his affliction; has a hunch that it's demonic in nature, but has yet to actually reveal that to others. is constantly scared that his daughter will be afflicted with the same illness - and that something will happen to her.
a calm, reasonable person. doesn't freak out often - takes life as it comes, and generally is hard to anger. sometimes he's just too tired to really feel it - but he's genuine in his nature. is loyal, reliable - and just really wants to take a nap.
the kind of person to actually talk to his neighbors, even if they're all stretched out. cares deeply for the community, both human and supernatural, and will go out of his way to make sure the people he knows are safe and well. volunteers in his free time - and like his father, he never turns down his home for someone in need.
loves to cook, though he misses the way his wife would cook. misses her a lot - and while he hasn't been single the entire time since her passing, he struggles with long term, deep relationships. in part it's because of his grief - and in part because he never wanted to introduce someone into his daughter's life if they weren't going to stay.
has good days energy - wise, and then has terrible days. it's always a gamble - and he finds himself trying to overcompensate for the days he's out of commission. someone who can't stay still - he always has to be doing something.
welcome to marina, SOLEIL CAMARA ( demi woman, she/they ) ! they are a TWENTY SIX (TWENTY SIX) year old VAMPIRE / HUNTER who resides in PROSPECT HILL. They work as a CASHIER AT BUY N' GO'S and are said to look a lot like SOPHIE WILDE. People around the island find them to be WHIMSICAL and DROLL, but also CHARY and DELUSIVE. what do you think?
CONTENT WARNING FOR DEATH, BODY HORROR, AND VIOLENCE.
profile.
full name β soleil godelieve camara.
nickname(s) β sol, occasionally.
date of birth & age β may 4th, 1998. twenty6.
gender / pronouns β demi woman. she/they.
sexuality β bisexual.
typing β hunter. human vampire.
occupation β cashier at buy n' go's. vampire hunter ( ironically ). for now.
interests β wood whittling. the midnight moon. walks alongside the river. red ceramics. stained glass. their own blood - soaked knees. reminders that they're still alive - in their own way. furbies. vintage stamps. haunted objects.
aversions β the hunt - feels like going against the grain, now. not that they were ever good enough. thunderstorms and lightning bolts. liars. recently - other hunters. their family. looking, talking, and walking like a vampire.
next in queue β wait by the river by lord huron; sea, swallow me by cocteau twins; changling by hexvessel .
notable features β hair chopped short - blunt ends from blunt scissors. sharp teeth they're quick to hide behind close - lipped smiles.
general disposition β wide - eyed and doe - like; constantly red - handed & burnt bright in shame.
last known location β running out of buy n' go after a customer dropped a jar of pickles and sliced their thumb against the broken glass. now her coworkers think she's scared of either pickles, broken glass, or the sight of blood. maybe all three.
soleil grew up in a cabin far off into the woods; a small plot of land secluded from the sightline, with enough of a garden to supply what food they needed. her parents were hunters, survivalists - and isolationists. content in a world of their own, away from the community - and from the monsters that lurked among humans, wearing their skin.
it was a lonely childhood - homeschooled and surrounded by nothing but woods, the only time soleil got to leave their cabin was when her father headed into town for the few supplies they needed consistently replenished. as he walked store to store - soleil would wander the playground, or trail behind him as he spoke in hushed whispers to store owners. they never stayed for too long.
death / body horror; they hadn't always been so - far removed from the other citizens of marina. it was a tale often repeated to soleil - her mother's brother going on the hunt after a notorious vampire in the area, one their family had hunted for millennia but hadn't managed to stake; and his splayed - open body, innards unraveling from where they'd been pulled out. a warning - a threat.
soleil's identity as a hunter was... odd - fitting. her parents a mix of overprotective and ruthless - she had trained from the moment she could stand steadily on two feet; but she hadn't been allowed to join them on any hunts. instead left to sit inside their cabin, shutters drawn shut, crossbow by her side.
part of her always wanted to be normal - and part of her didn't know what that even really meant. her friends were mostly stuffed animals - ones she would reconfigure into different things. teddy bears with baby faces sewn over - furbies stitched into one, endless motorized monster. an old walkie talkie radio and the voice on the other side - and her favorite knife - all her companions.
the older soleil became - the more they would let her wander into town alone. always in the daylight - always in plain sight. no houses, no secluded corners. always keep her wits about her.
she accepted this life - because it was all she ever knew, and the older she got, the older they got - and the more they relied on her. when her father broke his hip, and her mother her mind - soleil took up a job at the grocery store to keep both a steady income and her mind off of the slow decay of her parents - and the life she knew.
but maybe soleil was too - inexperienced for life outside the cabin. too foolhardy. eventually she made friends with her coworkers - and one of her coworkers had invited her out one evening. soleil insisted on being home - but they wore her down; and after her parents had gone to bed, she set off towards the address her coworker had left for her.
violence; she'd never been to a party before, much less drank - and before she knew it, she'd been stumbling out of the house in a drunken haze. it was too much for her - the loud noise, the crowded rooms. her parents were right - it was all too much. and in her hurry to return home, she hadn't noticed the vampire trailing her - until they attacked. it was a blur - one she barely remembered; just the sensation of something sharp, searing - burning - spreading across her neck and over her body; almost calming in the way it hurt - like it was trying to lure her into an endless slumber - and her refusal to die. blood - both hers and theirs' - and a last second instinct to sink her own teeth into the vampire.
by the time she woke up - the vampire had disappeared, and her heart no longer beat.
facts & temperament.
soleil was bit maybe a week or two ago and it's been a constant panic since. she's never been much of an anxious person - had no reason to worry, but now it's all she ever does. constantly on edge - like someone's going to come up and stake her.
she doesn't talk about the moments after her reawakening - or the great thirst she felt, or the blood she spilt to quench it. it's shameful, still. everything her parents hated.
is currently hiding the fact that she's a vampire from her parents and just about anyone around her. the day of her turning was a blur - but under the panic and pressure, soleil managed to contact a witch out of desperation and use the rest of her meager paycheck to get some sort of - suppressor. charm, amulet - whatever. soleil doesn't really get witch shit - but it hides her vampiric aura from those who'd otherwise detect it. the sun is a whole other issue - so far she's only been going out at night.
outside of - the panic. soleil is a bit odd. unsocialized - her humor's often deadpan, or lackluster - she doesn't really understand jokes, or a lot of modern things. her parents were vehemently anti technology - the most she ever got was a record player and her walkie talkie. even had to do laundry by hand. still hates doing it.
friendly enough - she likes listening to people talk, and share their stories; everyone's life is just some part of a fairytale that she hasn't read yet. don't mistake that as - naivety, or blind trust, however. soleil learned quick that nobody is as they seem.
she enjoys dissecting people - sometimes silently, in her mind. sometimes outside her mind. things often sound like questions coming out of her - or observations. talks more to herself than to others - even when directly communicating to them.
probably wouldn't admit it because she's going through some identity crisis self - loathing, but feels a certain ease being able to wander the night. not getting tired - but hates feeding, and the trail of bodies she's left behind in her inability to control it.
a bit whimsical. a bit dreamy. loves looking at the stars, can name so many constellations. still is a big fan of furbies, and collects a lot of little trinkets to pass the time.
