██████████████]99% LOADING...SUSPECT INTO THE APD DATABASE...
WITNESS(ES) SAY THEY REMIND THEM OF: a gagayum’s strings being plucked, the smell of burning incense, an blue-orange sunrise over a hanok village. With a slight resemblance to AHN YUJIN of/the IVE.
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FULL FILE:
last name, first name: kwak yiseul
alias: azure
realm of birth: south korea
age: 21
gender: cis female
preferred pronouns: she/her/they/them
species: healer, cyborg (level 1) [mixed-blood]
occupation: howler - luna, salutary
sexual orientation: bicurious
any associated/owned businesses: n/a
VISUAL FILE: (please match the listed visual descriptions on the species page)
skin color: lightly tan, milky blue in low light, cerulean underground
eye color: navy blue
scars: light, vine-like scars around the areas of her limb replacements
piercings: n/a
tattoos: howler emblem (geometric wolf) in delicate white lineart, between her breasts. best seen underground, when her skin glows brightest.
hair color: natural blue-black
abnormalities: cyborg replacement of left thumb and right leg from the knee down
horns/wings/etc: n/a
transformed form: n/a
PERSONAL FILE
RELIGIOUS BELIEF: taoism, korean shamanism (mainly ancestor worship)
Crime Record: once persecuted by local earth-realm vigilantes for being mistaken as a witch. the korean government maintains records of the events, as well as her personal background.
Background/Biography:
A warm breeze, the sound of trees rustling, and the smell of a fire crackling happily in the middle of a clearing. Yiseul’s first years were idyllic, full of hands-on learning in herbalism and naturopathy. She and her parents enjoyed a nomadic life as they traveled from settlement to settlement, welcomed in by the local villagers as they healed a myriad of ailments and injuries. The people knew them as the species of legend, the lapis-skinned descendants of The Alchemist. They trusted in nature and hospitality, wanting for little.
A cool draft, a graying sky, and the end of the harvest season. People begin to go missing. Animals turn up mutilated. The crops fail. The whispers begin, first in the temples, and then in the town squares. The people begin to question if the healers are needed anymore with the advancement of modern medicine. Are the nomads layabouts who simply take from the people while gallivanting through the forests? The region buzzes with discontent and suspicion.
A freezing gale, the heavens open and the sky pours out. The church leaders and monastery abbots form a coalition. Remove the magicians from among the people. They are the cause of the famine. They are unnatural, unlike us. Yiseul’s family takes what little they have and tries to run, but are caught like bears in a trap. A trial is held, and the universe testifies - the witches must be sacrificed for the fertility of the land.
A raging tempest, and everything is uprooted. The interrogations begin with young Yiseul. She knows nothing of witches, only of white magic, of healing and nature. She heals from within herself, not by calling upon another power. The council harkens back to the Classical era, implementing the thumbscrew and Malay boot. First it is her foot, then an ankle and calf, and finally her thumb. Though she can heal, her skill is not enough to handle so much at once. The fires are kindled, and her parents are tied. The family is in pieces, but have accepted that they from the earth they came, and to the earth they will return.
A thick fog settles, making it impossible to see. News vans begin streaming into the township, cameras in hand. Police cars follow soon after, reclaiming the family and sending them to the largest hospital with the equipment to treat their injuries - Isabu Byeongwon. The three are treated like a menagerie, being poked and prodded like test subjects. Yiseul, bearing the most severe injuries, is taken into the operating room to be outfitted with a new leg and finger. When she wakes, her parents are gone.
An icy frost covers the ground. The police have questions for her, but nobody has answers for her questions. She becomes nearly catatonic, despite her now being able to walk again thanks to the new cyborg enhancements she has been given. Yiseul is visited by a recruiter who works at the hospital, who reassures the girl that she is not a witch - that she is a blessing - and that she would be warmly welcomed by the Howlers. She embraces the prospect of a new family, not sure how else she would continue on alone.
The clouds part, and the sun begins to trickle through. Yiseul is marked with the wolf emblem, and eventually becomes the Howler’s Luna. The wolves protect her, and she protects them too, perfecting her healing and experimenting with offensive molecular manipulation. It has been years since the burnings, yet Yiseul still has many questions that remain unanswered. How did the Howlers know about her, and is it really better for her to hide in safety, or for her to blindly chase after her parents?
INTERVIEW QUESTION (para sample): “Just run us through what happened that night”. - Officer
With her good hand, Yiseul pulled back the hospital blanket covering her lower half, showing the inspector the empty space below her right knee. The youngest of the detectives winced at the stained bandages that would cover the injuries until she would be refitted with limb replacements.
Wasn’t it obvious? The news had covered the story for a week straight.
She laid back down on the cot, staring at the ceiling.
“Go to Andong. You must have seen the pyres too. If anyone knows what happened to my parents, you’ll find your lead there.
“You see, miss, the townspeople said that there was noth-”
Yiseul clenched her fists in frustration, and the detective who had been speaking choked out a stifled whimper before reaching up to touch his face. The skin on his arms and neck started bubbling, slowly moving up towards his mouth.
“How many times do I have to repeat the story for you? You’re wasting time asking me the same questions instead of finding them.”
She released her hands, letting a long sigh out through her nose, and the bubbling stopped. The man shuffled back towards the door to her hospital room, pulling a cross necklace out from under his shirt in an attempt to ward her off.
██████████████]99% LOADING...SUSPECT INTO THE APD DATABASE...
WITNESS(ES) SAY HE REMINDS THEM OF: the feeling of walking through a bare and silent forest full of fog, the shadow of a black cat casted along your window, the gentle shwit of a tarot card pulling. With a slight resemblance to KANG SEULGI of/the RED VELVET.
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FULL FILE:
Last Name, First Name: Valkyrie So-bong
Alias: Circe, Mishil
Realm of birth (if earth, nationality): Earth, English-Korean
Age: 27
Date of Birth: 10-28-1994
Gender: Cisfemale
Preferred Pronouns: She/Her
Species: Witch
Occupation: Chemical Pathologist at Asan Medical Center, Mother & Chemist of the Ivory Lotus
Sexual Orientation: Unlabled
VISUAL FILE:
Skin Color: tan-ish
Eye color: heather purple with slight gold around the iris
Scars: a weathered scar on the meaty part of palm from using her blood in certain potions and spells
Piercings: reference [ x (left). x (right)]
Tattoos: naked ladies dancing around the moon on her bicep , a black cat in hands on her rib cage , little girl holding her head on her upper thigh near her hip, custom design down her spine (w/o the words), various other small tattoos , ivory lotus lotus on her inner middle finger.
Hair color: black
Abnormalities: eye color technically
Horns/ wings/ etc:
Transformed form: if she uses a great amount of her power her eyes mist over the same color as her iris’ and begin to glow, along with the symbol of her coven on her forehead, the ends of her hair began to flicker like purple fire.
KNOWN LANGUAGES: English, Latin, Korean (still not all the way there)
SECRETS: She escaped her coven as they were more of a cult than a coven.
SAVVIES: chemical engineering, cooking, writing, reciting literature
Blood Magic
Curse Magic
Dark Alchemy
Dark Energy Manipulation
Poison Magic
Telekinesis
Spirit Magic (these powers were given to her during the ceremony at her birth)
BACKGROUND CHECK:
Date of Birth: 10-28-1994
Date of Death: n/a
Crime Record:
Background/Biography:
tw: blood, gorey-ish descriptions, death, cult like activity, teen pregnancy
The sound of a stone door scraping shut behind her had become a constant mantra in her earliest memory. She’d found herself wrapped in the arms of a family that had placed her on a pedestal much too grand for a child to bear.
Living in exile had become a prominent part of So-yeon’s life. She’d gone from settled in the nest of her family home, the power of the realm trickling down her matriarchal line and dreaming that one day she’d pass it on to a daughter of her own. But so young she became nothing more than merely a vessel, bred and left to her own devices and finding herself alone in a world where he magic didn’t stand up to the foundations in society that science had began to claim
She’d trekked the long journey to Castle Combe, belly round and swollen, trying to find a place where she’d belonged, solely and utterly herself.
‘She will be our salvation,’ they’d said, fawning over the way power had surged from the young girl's aura. They would take care of her, they’d said, and with nowhere else to go, the echo of the stone door sealed shut behind her. So-yeon had fallen into their routines, basked in their rituals as the pampered the teen for her oncoming child, they told stories of the throne that she’d sit upon and bowed to her as she walked past. Women of all ages washed her feet, and combed her hair, held her belly up for just a bit of relief as time ticked and ticked on.
‘I want to name her Mishil, after my grandmother,’ So-yeon beamed, only for the polite smile on her face to fall at the intense glare that the counsel women had bestowed upon her.
‘Our master has already picked a name for the child,’ they’d said, faces full of an enhanced seriousness, and even though the young girl's face and ears burned with fury she couldn’t bring herself to protest.
They’d held her hand as her daughter readied herself to be born, and just shy of her seventeenth birthday she held a hiccuping child in her arms. But it wasn’t long that she’d be able to clutch to her newborn, the child torn away from her within minutes of her arrival, pulled away still wailing into the chamber, the same echo of stone bouncing off the underground walls. They’d chanted her name, various words and spells trickling into the damp air, the infant lay upon their altar, still crying out for her mother who’d just been behind the door.
The room swirled and surged with power, a black cloud forming over the crying baby’s body crackling with purple lightning and boisterous thunder. As their words grew louder and louder, so did Valkyrie’s cries, each and every coven member bowing to her, their own powers sucked into the cloud that danced angrily above her, hungry for a new vessel. The sigil began to etch itself into her forehead, eyes and mouth glowing with the same purple hue that rippled like lava in the inscription in her skin, and all at once, just as the symphony of sound reached its climax, the cloud swarmed down the infant's throat, power trickling into her veins and leaving the chamber in dark, eerie silence.
So-yeon believed this meant it was time to see the child she waited so long for, but the doors never opened, and instead she was dragged away to meet a fate that she felt she was destined to be granted her entire life.
‘It is you who will rule us, you who will be our salvation,’ they’d told the child, much too young to comprehend let alone listen.
She’d spent her life being treated as royalty, paraded through the village streets, covered in a black veil as their new savior’s beauty could not be seen by just any lowly human. Placed on a pedestal that could only be granted to deities and gods, the moment she’d entered the world. Every member of the coven bowed to her, asked her for advice and forgiveness, begged to die at her hand, and for a while it was all she could go along with. They’d taught her everything she’d known, everything she’d thought she’d ever know. About witchcraft and witchcraft only.
But in a modern world she’s subjected to modern schooling, and in that she’d fallen in love with the foundations that had exiled her young mother all those years ago. She’d found interests in chemistry, enlightenment in biology and ecology, and as she tasted the world above ground, the one below had begun to sour.
It was common knowledge that women around her weren’t the same, she had stark black hair in a sea of red-heads and blondes, and soon itched to know more about what life had been before she’d become their master. Rifling through her mother’s old things she’d come across the book that would become the salvation of her own. Bound in black leather and weathered pieces of amethyst, the pages worn and well loved, generations of spells and potions littering it’s pages. But the book had brought on other things, a memoir of her mother sprinkled into the margins:
‘I wanted to name her Mishil but they won’t let me’
‘I think they’re going to take her from me,’
‘When will I get away from here?’
‘They’re going to kill me’
The ones who had been her family all along, were nothing more than women on a path conjured up in their own minds. But what was she to do now? She’d just reached the age her mother was when she’d found them, only ever knowing the prospects of being their deity, their chosen child, their….salvation.
With a wave of her hand, the stone door echoed open, just enough for her slender form to slink through, the last of her mothers existence in her arms and a backpack slung over her shoulders. Stepping into the world above ground, she was alone now, wandering to a place she’d never known, though it called her all the way from the east sea, awaiting her return.
It felt like an eternity had passed when she’d finally walked past signs riddled with Hangul, she’d finally found the home where she’d actually belonged, but now that she had, what would become of her? She was alone now, completely and utterly, clutching nervously to the money in her hand at the currency exchange, freshly twenty-one, and in hopeless solidarity. Held up in group housing and hostels until she could stomach low income housing, Valkyrie was to make an entire life from absolutely nothing. Where was she supposed to go? In what direction was she supposed to float without guidance.
The young witch had chosen school, finding out quickly that in this new world there is not much to make of yourself outside of a document, stamped with the country's seal. She’d dove into the very curriculum that she felt led to her own ultimate salvation.
Before long she’d found a stable job at a bar, as graduation lingered in the distance and everything she’d ever worked for slowly came to fruition. It had been a slow night when the embodiment of lustrous evil strutted through the doors, the gentle click of heels along the tile floor of the bar, settling on the stool in front of her. She was an unnatural kind of beauty, that fogged into the establishment under a black mist. It made Valkyrie feel sick to her stomach, and yet she was the first to approach...it. What else could she call her? There was nothing normal or natural about the feeling of dread the woman had brought with her, and yet she was drawn to her in a way that made her knees weak, subordination, a feeling she’d never felt before.
Their voices went from covering the sound of a locking door, talking until the establishment closed, to breathless moans and hopeless whispers conjured inside of a bed as big as the one she’d remembered was back in Castle Combe. Her devotion came from the feeling of loneliness, slowly dissipating from her shoulders, no longer riddled with the guilt of leaving because of it. And as final exams turned into residencies and internships, she found herself granting the being with other means of satisfaction.
It had begun with just the occasional chemical slipped into her bag, one or two vials of something up her sleeves, but as her permanency at Asan began, it was opening the doors of the mortuary, faking documents and getting rid of bodies. A terrible obsession that was bound together by her touch on Valkyrie’s skin, and the satisfaction in her smile when she’d done everything she could for her.
Obsession, is what you’d call it, the witch riding herself off the crowned deity her coven had given her and passing the title on to the being that had consumed her life with blackness. She’d do anything for her, anything…
“I’m not going to kill you,” she said sweetly, almost appalled that the woman groveling at her feet would accuse her of such a terrible endeavor. Valkyrie’s chest shook in relief only for the air her lungs consumed to be knocked from them in one swift motion. The woman’s shoulders sagged in relief, but only for a moment,
“She is,” both gazes burned into the witch’s skin, her own violet eyes scanning her goddesses face, who was she to deny her?
Her hand raised, palm facing the woman that begged for her life, only for black pustules to bubble along her skin, the sound of it sizzling as it melted away in front of them both. Matching veins spidered up her neck and along her jaws, taking up the white space of her eyes as blood sputtered out of her mouth. Crimson liquid dripped from her cornea’s before finally spraying over Valkyrie’s and the being’s faces, dark roses blooming in her chest at the satisfied smile she’d come to love. Anything…anything for her.
It was then she was offered a seat at her table, and at her side for added measure, granted the bowing subordinates she’d grown used to as a child. She is alone no longer, trudging through the toxic black, obsession that her new master had created.
INTERVIEW QUESTION (para sample): “Just run us through what happened that night”. - Officer
Cat-like eyes rolled at the officers before her. How dare they think she’d turn on her so quickly, throw away the only real family she had ever known.
“Look we have her on cctv footage rolling a black bag out of the back of the hospital. So you can just give her up.”
Valkyrie could almost laugh at their bluff, it was her on the camera footage, the bag filled to the brim with dismembered limbs and chemicals, for her leader yes, but she knows well that they were doing whatever they could to turn on her.
“I told you guys, I haven’t seen her since last week,” a lie, she’d been in her bed just the night before, readying herself for her shift in Mistress’ bathroom earlier that morning.
“If you just tell us she was surely involved, we’ll even put it in as anonymous tip, she wont come after you, but we can’t take her down without her help.”
The witch only looked at them with pity, shrugging her shoulders and then shaking her head, “I don’t need an anonymous tip put in, because I don’t know anything, she wouldn’t have been in the hospital without coming to see me, so I’m absolutely sure it wasn’t her,” The officer sighed, sitting back in his chair before opening up the manila folder in front of him. He tapped the edges of the photos onto the metal surface of the table before dealing them out in front of her like a skilled Blackjack broker. They were faces she’d recognized, faces she’d seen the life drain from, faces she’d sucked the souls from at her command.
But she didn’t flinch in the way they though she would, only sitting up off the matching steel chair, “Kim Minhyuk,” she said, tapping a pointed black nail onto the picture furthest to the left, “Park Hoyeon, Rodolfo Cruz, Noah Monsario, Do Inguk.” The officers faces lit up in astonishment, the belief they would be getting a confession so easily floating about their minds.
“All died of a blood poisoning disease after working in the Gae-won factory in Daegu. They were subjected to terrible work environments and were made to use chemicals that were able to be absorbed into the skin and then the blood stream because of the lack of proper equipment. I would know since I testified in court for the multi-million dollar wrongful death suit.” These were all lies, but the looks on the officers faces and the way their bodies deflated in defeat were enough for her to cross her arms over her chest in triumph.
“I have thier entire files, tests and results in my office...and so does my superior.” She added, covering her Mistress’ tracks so easily. Valkyrie fought the smirk that twitched at the corner of her pretty lips.
“We-we’re going to need a copy of those reports to compare your story.”
██████████████]99% LOADING...SUSPECT INTO THE APD DATABASE...
WITNESS(ES) SAY HE REMINDS THEM OF: firey pentagrams, a gaping maw, bloodied hands praying over a rosary . With a slight resemblance to CHAE HYUNGWON of/the MONSTA X/MODEL/ACTOR.
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FULL FILE:
Last Name, First Name: Cho Doyun
Alias: the Chariot
Realm of birth (if earth, nationality): Korean
Age: 27
Date of Birth: 01/15/1994
Gender: Cismale
Preferred Pronouns: he/him
Species: Human (Incubus possessed)
Occupation: Unemployed (Former teacher)
Sexual Orientation: ????
VISUAL FILE:
Skin Color: Pale
Eye color: Dark Brown
Scars: None
Piercings: Earrings but thats about it
Tattoos: None
Hair color: Black
Abnormalities: Idk he’s a long boi
Horns/ wings/ etc: None
Transformed form: Upon full possession, hiseyes turn grey, his skin tinges a sickly sort of grey color beneath, his teeth become sharper. His shadow betrays him, showing the Incubus’ full physiology: bat wings, the tail, giant goat horns upon his head.
PERSONAL FILE:
RELIGIOUS BELIEF: Used to be religious but being possessed probs means that you forsaken any god
KNOWN LANGUAGES: English, and whatever archiac hell language the incubus speaks (admin note: it’s latin sejung)
SECRETS: He has no idea when the incubus takes over. He’s in a constant battle against it, pushing it out from his mind, but sometimes he becomes weak. allowing the thing to fully overcome him. He doesn’t kn ow what it does when it locks him away. He only awaken s later with a horrifying sense of dread bubbling in the pit of his stomach.
SAVVIES: Reading, proficiency in Literature
Powers & Abilities: the human has no discernable traits but the Incubus can induce sex magic
Traits: deeply righteous but is also really reclusive
BACKGROUND CHECK:
Date of Birth: 01/15/1994
Date of Death: N/A
Crime Record: None, but the incubus is trying to start a coup in Hell so ... there’s that
Background/Biography:
tw: Religious depictions, violence, content warning: if you are visually impaired pieces of the following text maybe hard to read/a strain on your sight.
The incubus rose.
Born from something deep within the fiery depths of hell itself, it claws its way out. It owns no name, no holding of any form in any realm for it to matter. It has become weak, and unfortunately, just a little bit desperate. It seeks power; a craving so deep and innate that it feels like it’s blood is bubbling over. For it’s millenium of living, it had known only squalor. It sought to sit upon that gilded throne at the very heart of the infernal underworld, but it was weak… powerless against demons that claimed higher positions in power over it. It hated it. It was filled with a sense of pride… it would become more than this…
It roamed the streets of the unnamed city in the realm of humans in an attempt to claim their souls and draw power from them. It was successful for a time, felt the body of itself bubble over with force as the souls sat in its stomach.
Soon. Soon it would return. Soon, it would raise the crown upon its head and sit on that throne. It would not be so powerless anymore. It would own hell, heaven, the earth… everything and nothing would become theirs. No force would be able to touch it.
But soon was not now.
The possibility of soon… it was what had weakened it.
The priest was nothing. Should have been nothing. The man was human, and therefore feeble despite the holy power he had wrought down upon it. It had no idea how the man had found him. The incubus had been hovering over the body of his latest conquest, maw still tinged with the flavor of that ravenous soul inside the back of its teeth. But it’s mindlessness after such an escapade had been its ruin. It had not sought to be as careful as it had been prior it seemed, for the priest had seemingly been following it for a while, waiting patiently for a moment to attack.
For a moment, it was overwhelmed with the feeling of rage, powerless against the man’s relentless attacks upon it.
The thing lay near-dead on the ground. The priest had stood over it for the briefest of moments, checking for death. But the thing about humans was that they were stupid… their humility would be their down fall. The man should have struck it again… just in case. But the man did not, simply walking away from it with the full confidence that he had rid the earth of it.
In a futile last effort, the incubus stood, crawling in the shadows after the man with the full knowledge that it would kill the man and the man’s family in retribution. It would make them hurt. It would be slow… painful and so excruciating that they would have wished for the earth to swallow them whole.
Even if it didn’t kill them, he would make them B̸͖̐Ų̷̾R̷̘̆N̴̤̈
MEANWHILE, AT THE SAME TIME
Doyun sat at the table with his mother, quiet conversation falling over the two as they waited for his father to come home. More often than not, the patriarch Cho would stay late at the church, waiting in the pews for late confessionals or something likened to it.
Doyun was a good kid. Smart, endlessly kind and witty and aiming for a full-time position at the elementary school he worked at. He went to church with his parents when he could, occasionally helped with activities there for the kids… he had lived about as quietly as one could.
He lived alone, but more often than not found himself at his parent’s home, just to visit and rid himself of the homesickness he felt despite the many years since he’d moved out.
From the front of the house, the door clicked open and then promptly shut again.
Doyun’s mother sat up, walking away from the table to greet his father while Doyun sat at the table patiently waiting for them both to come back. His eyes fell to the window, the city’s lights nothing more than mere specks in the distance.
He blinked.
For a moment, he could have sworn that the reflection in the glass was not his own. He did not possess grey eyes or a gaping mouth with sharp teeth. He blinked again and it was gone. Maybe coffee so late in the evening was not a good idea, seeing as it made his imagination run wild.
Through the doorway in the kitchen, his parents appeared, and he went to greet them, but not before seeing his own father throwing a worried look at the window.
LATER
Sleep came easily. It was not so difficult when one lived a life as busy as his. Lesson plans and grading homework was quite literally a handful, and he found himself all but passing out on his parent’s couch for the night, too tired to drive himself back across the city to his own place.
He never dreamed, almost too exhausted that his brain basically powered down, lulling him into nothingness. But that night, he dreamt. It was that same face from beyond the window, hovering over his form in the dream. It was as though he were on the outside looking in, and it felt so real that he could feel the thing’s breath on his face, a wing brushing at his arm… he twitched.
Without even opening its gaping jaw, Doyun knew that it was speaking to him. The thing repeated that sentiment many times as it grasped one clawed hand at his mouth, pulling down at his jaw until it hung open. Doyun tried to move to stop it, but the image was so jarring that he was helpless to do anything else aside from watch.
No ceremony was made of the situation, just the sick feeling of watching his slack mouth connect with that other being’s. Nothing seemed to happen, just that strange show the demon put on as Doyun watched his own body.
And then he felt something.
Not in his body, but in his mind. It was as though something had entered a doorway up there and locked the door from the outside. It felt both numbing and burning, and he flinched away from the feeling as he felt his subconscious try to remove that alien thing from him.
It was so quiet. The quiet only grew, vibrating in the air until he was consumed by static as the demon turned from the limp body below him to stare straight at him, the version of him watching over this event unfold.
Except this time, it sounded like his own voice, just crackling with static as though he were listening from a very old vinyl player.
And then he awoke.
-
Possession was never an easy thing. He had not even realized that it was more than just a horrifying nightmare just a few days later, when he awoke from sleep only to find himself in the middle of his classroom, all of his students staring at him in absolute horror with other teachers huddling in front of them.
That instance was enough for him to resign from his job, remove himself from everything he had worked towards for his entire life, hiding out in his apartment for days on end until he became nothing short of a recluse. He only went out when he deemed it extremely necessary, speaking little and hoping that the demon would not come out to play.
But the voice in his head was relentless, constantly at the forefront of his mind and recalling to him all the violence he wanted to put into effect, the horrible things he would do to him and his family and the world until it was granted enough power from him and the souls he collected.
It was like fighting a war from the inside out. No one was privy to the knowledge of what had happened that night, and even his father had not known what to do. The demon in his head made staticking noises in his head every time his father came around.
To seek exorcism and the removal of the demon from him, he went to just about every church and holy place that he could find, but the demon persisted. It latched onto him as though it were a disease… a well and full parasite inside his body. He felt hollow… he felt like a puppet whose strings were on too tight.
It was worse that, when he was completely powerless and the demon fully absorbed itself into him, he had no idea what went on. He would merely wake up, usually clean in his own bed or out in public with nothing more than that. Other times… he knew that the demon wanted to drive him mad, and took to leaving him amidst the gore and horror he’d left behind.
But nothing would stop him from seeing this come to an end. He would find a way to remove that demon, all while trying to keep his sanity intact.
INTERVIEW QUESTION (para sample): “Just run us through what happened that night”. - Officer
Doyun had woken up here, under the bright lights of the interrogation room in the precinct with no recollection of what had happened previously in the night. That familiar sense of dread fell upon him, sitting in his stomach and churning to the point where he felt that his insides would come out.
All he had remembered before waking here was that sinister voice in his mind, adamantly whispering ho him:
He knew what the incubus wanted. He had no idea what it had done while taking over his body. The fear of that was nothing new to him, but it wracked at his nerves all the same. Swallowing down bile, he stared up at the officer questioning him as Doyun wrung his numb, cold fingers.
“I-I don’t know,” he mumbled, static lingering in his brain. It almost sounded like laughter.
The officer pressed, gentle but with an edge to his tone as Doyun sat stock-still in horror. “I don’t remember. All I saw was the man’s body on the ground… Nothing seemed wrong with him aside from the fact that he had passed out so I… I went over to him. I didn’t hear a pulse. I didn’t know what to do…”
He could feel tears stinging at the back of his eyes as he counted the situation. He remembered feeling the cold skin and seeing those unseeing eyes stare up above him. It was the demon’s more cleaner exploits, one he knew was meant to torment his mind than do anything else. The way the thing in his head so frivolously took to stealing the lives of others to torment him left him feeling even more sick.
The officer stared at him, brows furrowed as he took in Doyun’s pained expression. Neither of them spoke for a while, and the static pressed on.
“Okay,” the officer sighed after a while, “you should go home. Take your mind off the situation for the night and come back tomorrow.”
The officer let him out, leaving him at the front of the precinct’s doors with a small nod. The static grew stronger still.
██████████████]99% LOADING...SUSPECT INTO THE APD DATABASE...
WITNESS(ES) SAY THEY REMIND THEM OF: the gentle waft of cologne, the wail of a guitar, and the feeling on your back that you’re being watched . With a slight resemblance to NAKAMOTO YUTA of/the NCT 127/U.
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FULL FILE:
last name, first name: nanami kakuzo,
alias: kuzo , black . kakuzo black, elias
realm of birth(if earth, nationality): the inbetween (underworld), japan
age: in between age about 80 years old, earth age 27
gender: male
preferred pronouns: he/they
species: mixed-blood (werewolf, child of the realm: son of melinoe, goddess of ghosts and nightmares)
occupation: detective at apd/special forces
sexual orientation: not applicable
any associated/owned businesses:
VISUAL FILE:
skin color: tan
eye color: marble grey with a black ring around it in human form, acme grey in wolf form
scars: scar over his left peck from being stabbed, many on his knuckles and one on his cheek bone
piercings: many in his ears, belly button
tattoos: two on either hip, one along his back
hair color: naturally white, goes in between black and white based on mood bc he can (like his wolf form),
abnormalities: pointed canines
horns/ wings/ etc:
transformed form: a large grey black and white wolf, in the in between/the underworld: long white hair fading into black tips past his mid back, curved obsidian black horns, usually adorned in ruby jewels and black fur. (inspo x , x ). when he’s comfortable he tends to walk around in a sort of in between form mostly at home. (inspo x , x)
PERSONAL FILE:
RELIGIOUS BELIEF: greek mythology, otherwise some form of atheism
KNOWN LANGUAGES: Greek, Japanese, English, Korean is still a bit intermediate stage as he didn’t bother within the first year or so of being in the country
SECRETS: His father is Nanami Kento, former Howler Alpha. His aura causes weak willed people to decent into madness. the speed depends on how much they can handle and how long they’re around him/frequency
SAVVIES: guitar, drums, singing, boxing and other fighting forms of combat, math and probability
Powers & Abilities: Claw/Fang Retraction, Contaminant Immunity, Transformation, Enhanced Body/Supernatural; Body, Agility, Durability, Endurance, Leap, Reflexes, Senses, Hearing, Smell, Speed, Stamina and Strength. Night Vision, Regenerative Healing, Wolf-Physiology, Dark Divinity, Daemon Physiology, Corrupting Presence, Madness Manipulation, Madness Embodiment. Insanity Inducement, Illusions (for a period of time), Madness Aura, Nightmare Inducement, Nightmare Magic, Ghost Lordship, Ghost Companionhip.
Traits: +observant, -tsundere
BACKGROUND CHECK:
Date of Birth: per his most recent life 041294
Date of Death:
Crime Record: sealed away in an manila envelope somewhere in the precinct it reads: wanted by the japanese government for crimes such as theft, murder, laundering, and intent to move goods across country lines
Background/Biography:
tw: mentions of child abuse, domestic abuse and infant death
The legacy his father held didn’t start in the Howlers. Nanami Kento lived his life as a dictator, a bully and tyrant, and it translated into the people he’d claim to love.
The legend says; It had been just the two of them at first, Kakuzo, born originally as Elias, lived in the underworld with his mother for a much longer time than he had on earth, all four times at that. The lives he’d lived never sated his mother’s hunger for the human realm. Melinoë’s world was a constant state of black, white and red, the screaming of souls and the heat of flames. She was able to watch her mother ascend to the heavens every spring season, and see the glow around her once she returned to their world every winter.. And even as she was given Elias to continue her legacy, her world seemed to continue in its dimness.
She craved to ascend like Persephone, but too afraid to go alone, she sent Elias out into the other world, communicating then solely in the In-between. Elias lived out his life, but it was hard for him. Melinoë’s aura still surrounded him, a deafening madness that drew people to him or scared them to the point of traumatization. The longer they indulged in him, like a drug he gave the most blissful high, but soon they’d all begin to deteriorate, their minds falling into shambles. He could never truly love, truly laugh, truly care as he walked amongst the humans. Each era he endured meant nothing more to him and he couldn’t be bothered reconstructing psyches while trying to exist.
His first time on Earth had been short lived, their conditions hadn’t let his little baby body last much past a week. Upon his return Melinoë had decided to wait until they advanced in their lives to put him in another vessel. His second life was a bit smoother, the woman he’d met had a strong will, and they married and even attempted a child, but her own devastation led to his demise. The life in between hadn’t been quite notable, it wasn’t until his current one where he’d decided to make it fun, living for his pleasure. And like the mother she was, upon this agreement he was given something he hadn’t had before, since he planned on taking life into his own hands. Twin guardians, large dogs of unknown origins that made their way to the house of the young woman that carried him.
But Melinoë hadn’t known the type of monster that was believed to help create her son in the living world. She hadn’t anticipated the beatings, and the tyranny. Never thought to see him fighting for his life for monetary gain. And yet he always refused to leave. She begged and begged Elias to return home to her, leave that vicious man that had become his father, but he was adamant, it was his life, and he was to see it through. He completely became Kakuzo, knowing well his mother’s eyes were constantly on him. He attended every cage fight, took every punch, until Kento decided he had better things to do than break down his teenage son.
In Kuzo’s eyes, they dodged a bullet and he went on attempting to live through the trauma he’d experienced under that man's care. He’d dove head first back into music, even going abroad to study it around the age of fifteen. A year later he joined a Japanese-American band.
At his young age and being the guitarist of the group he gained popularity fast even being able to go back to his home country to continue the career with his bandmates once their hype died down in America. But of course as he expected, it wasn’t just his ability to be so young and talented that kept the crowds around. Weak willed supporters were drawn to the point of madness, and Kuzo felt the brunt of it all. He enjoyed the life, the drugs, the women, the men. The slice and roar of an electric guitar was a fuel to the high life but the heaviness of those who craved him was too much to deal with.
By twenty, six albums and three tours later, Kuzo decided to wrap it up, using his connections through the industry to simply exist as he wanted to. But Kento’s darkness remained, always there to linger over him as he promoted the need for violence, and left Kakuzo craving it when he wasn’t occupied. It was like an itch, an addiction, when he could cloud his mind with other things it was a distant memory, but the absence of screams and shrill music forced him to crave it all over again.
To Japan’s underground he went. Back into cages, leaving with broken noses and scarred knuckles, wanting something, anything, to keep the hunger sated. But these rings were tied to something much more dangerous, something that led a young Kakuzo to being the delivery boy for something, or someone deeply tied to the Yakuza. And his undefeated status in the underground led to his promotion from simple delivery boy to bloodhound, bounty hunter, collector. He was no longer Kakuzo but Black. Simply a dark smudge in the foreground that drives you completely mad.
But of course when things hit the fan, delivery boys are the first to be cut as the line gets caught, and Kuzo was facing the rest of the life he so desperately wanted to live, behind bars. His saving grace came in the dank, darkness of an interview room, it came with sleek black hair, tied into a tight bun and the click of heels. It came in a language he couldn’t understand, and badges he couldn’t read but in that moment he was given a fighting chance. That was, if he was okay with handing the reins of his life over to another type of gang.
He owed the Agdoeg Police Department his life.
“We’ve been watching you awhile,” they said, something about his father that he hadn’t cared to hear at the moment, but they wanted to use him, and his skills.
With his mother’s guardians in tow he left in secret, known purely to the rest of the force as Black. Kakuzo Black., had anyone asked, to erase his relation to his father for their benefit. He was to be on their beck and call, told to tell the world he transferred agencies to follow a lead that connected Agdoeg to the Yakuza, giving most of the precinct the run around, save anyone of note.
Now, three years later he’d grown a knack for it. Doing the same for the APD as he did for the Yakuza so long ago, only here he felt he was making some sort of a difference.
He was able to live freely, his charms and aura still driving the world around him mad but now he basked in his finesse.
INTERVIEW QUESTION (para sample): “Just run us through what happened that night”. - Officer
Kuzo leaned against the wall and waited for everyone to settle down. His eyes flickered over to their Lieutenant with a nod, moving to push himself off the wall to stand in front of the white board. It was covered with multiple faces of victims in their morgue and those of some suspects and crime scenes.
“If I’m honest I have no idea why you guys are making me do this, my job is to get the guy right?” He said in a comical tone. Grey eyes flickered over a tough crowd and he rolled his eyes and began.
“Viktor Sonegroff our suspect of unknown origin is said to be tied not only to the Ivory Lotus but the Night Bloods as well. He is also known for the disappearance of two of our informants. So I did as I always do, and previously stated before, I got the guy.” Kuzo motioned to the open windows of their meeting room, framing the eyeline of their holding cells.
“Now was he within an inch of his life when I got there or after, I can’t confirm nor deny, but I did what I was hired to do. He’ll be fine. Have him walk it off or something.”
A heavy sigh came from officer Soh, and Kakuzo looked at him as if he was confused on why he’d feel such disdain. “Black. That is not what we- you know what, just meet them at the hospital for the interview.”
“Okay but I can’t grantee he’ll be alive if I do that...I’ll try my absolute best...sir.”
██████████████]99% LOADING...SUSPECT INTO THE APD DATABASE...
WITNESS(ES) SAY THEY REMIND THEM OF: dappled sunlight sparkling across the tide, sakura petals floating down stream, measuring the distance between stars with outstretched fingers . With a slight resemblance to MINATOZAKI SANA of/the TWICE.
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FULL FILE:
last name, first name: Hamaguchi Kiyomi
alias: Oracle
realm of birth: Earth - born in Hiroshima Bay, near Miyajima Island
age: 25
date of birth: February 14
gender: Female
preferred pronouns: She/her
species: Mixed blood: mermaid and witch
occupation: Influencer & Model - Ivory Lotus Espionage
sexual orientation: Assumed & raised heterosexual
VISUAL FILE:
skin color: Pale with a peachy glow in her cheeks
eye color: Warm brown with iridescent opal flecks in her iris
scars: A small white star shape carved into her left palm, a faint jagged crescent near her left temple
piercings: Left - lobe, conch, helix. Right - double lobe, orbital, industrial
tattoos: Her lotus is incredible well hidden under a patch of scales on her left thigh
hair color: Medium brown that lightens to caramel in the sun
abnormalities: Has a significant patch of scales across her outer thighs and smaller specklings on her calves. Her gills are under her ribs and appear to be small scars at first glance
transformed form: Her mermaid form is reminiscent of the koi fish from her homeland, with a showa colouration and long fins like a butterfly koi
SECRETS: She’s aware of the giant gaps in her memory and refuses to admit that she’s afraid that her worst nightmares are actually her trying to remember her past
SAVVIES: She enjoys palm reading and fortune telling, always fascinated by the hands of anyone she meets. Due to her intuition and upbringing, she’s very aware of how she presents herself and how others perceive her, leading her to perform subtle manipulations very easily. .
Powers & Abilities: Mermaid physiology, precognition, magic detection/sensitivity, extrasensory perception/intuition, minor hydrokinesis (domains are divination and storm manipulation)
Traits: Curious, possessive, tempestuous, and bubbly
BACKGROUND CHECK:
date of birth: February 14
crime record: Clean
Background/Biography:
content warning: physical abuse, cult activity, threats of sexual violence, imprisonment, blood
White sand danced and covered her long discarded geta sandals on the beach as she hopped between tidepools, greeting each creature with a bright smile. The sleeves of her yukata flapped in the sea breeze as her hem became stained with salt and algae. Ocean waves laughed with her, splashing and tickling her skin, beckoning her to draw closer to the water’s edge. Their cool touch soothing the sickly plum bruises along her arms. A voice tight with panic called her name before her mother’s gentle touch guided her away. The sea is a greedy thing, she was told that day, it can give life and pull you away in the same breath.
No longer a child, she woke before the sun to watch the moon fade from the sky. Rubbing at the aches in her knees, rustling in the hall made her pretend to sleep so she overheard the high priest ask if she had bloomed yet. The way his voice curled around the syllables would scare her if her mother hadn’t reached for her hands under the threadbare sheet. Foreheads pressed together, she’s promised a special day together soon with a whisper. They met under their cherry tree on the hill, able to see the entirety of their home as they shared a now cold bowl of porridge. Her mother’s fingers traced along the lines of her palm, teaching her the universe of possibilities held in the cracks of her skin.
Her scalp burned from how harshly the priestess yanked and twisted her locks into the impossibly tight bun that’ll hold her headdress. Despite the tears pricking the edges of her eyes, she remained perfectly still and silent just as she was instructed. The sisters hiss the word honour like an insult as they bind her in suffocating silks. The knots are too tight but she won’t protest, she doesn’t know how to anymore. The high priestess held the mirror of the temple to her, despite her reflection only existing in ripples and tides before, she knew this was wrong. They promised her redemption for her mother if she performed her duties well. With careful steps she approached the dias and kneeled before the high priest. When his fingers tucked under her chin to make her face him her eyes glazed over with moonlight. She didn’t feel her body thrown across the floor, discarded as her unblinking eyes watched crimson stars scream across the sky. Looking to the statue of the goddess in the courtyard, her stone eyes wept before a flash of white hot light severed her head from her shoulders. The palm of her hand burned as she caught a falling star, the warmth crackling through her like lightning before the vision ebbed to black.
Bony arms slipped through the wooden bars of the window, palms up to receive the blessings from the rain. Hardly an hour passed where she wasn’t sucked into a vision, the strain of seeing took its toll on her body while her spirit flared, overflowing with magic bestowed by the storm. All she had to offer was herself, which the kami accepted. The night the moon burned blood red changed everything and yet she cannot remember what happened. Only waking the next morning on the beach, arms coated in dried crimson as the temple raged and crumbled in an inferno behind her. Looking to the sky she was consoled with the gentle touch of ocean spray, a rumble of thunder calling her to the sea.
Carried on the wings of the storm, the current in her heart, she found a new shore that sparkled with neon diamonds under the moonlight. Many cold and hungry nights passed until a violet flame called her to the surface, finding warmth and shelter among the arms of new sisters. The gentle hands coaxed her into blooming into the woman she was meant to be, overflowing with power, confidence, and beauty. She used her sight to help them, honing her craft until the patterns of the city unfolded for her, the visions coalescing into an ever shifting tapestry. One loose thread could make it unravel and it was only a matter of time. So she was sent back into the water, to watch and to wait for an opportunity.
interview question (para sample):
Gathering the tresses of her hair over her shoulder, Kiyomi occupied herself with softly humming, threading her fingers through her caramel locks as the officer across the table grew increasingly exasperated at her lack of attention. Once she was satisfied, her french tipped nails tapped along the edge of the table only to frown as she noticed that her ring finger had a chip in the shimmery polish already. A slam against the table had her warm eyes finally flicking to the officer, careful to paint a mask of pure surprise on her face that quickly welled into tears as pictures were spread in front of her and voices raised.
“Why are you yelling at me?!” She cried out in Japanese, making sure to avoid looking directly at the items on the table. The air was sucked out of the room as the officers all made their own assumptions, questioning if they had even picked up the correct girl. Surely she couldn’t have sweet talked her way into the vip suite if she didn’t even speak Korean. Even if she did, who’s to say if she even understood what was going on. With a hiccuping sniffle, she wiped at her eyes, continuing the vain charade by carefully dabbing around her makeup. As the table was cleared, an officer cleared his throat awkwardly before offering her a tissue and promptly clearing out of the room. She didn’t have to wait long to be let go and waited until she was a few blocks away and around the corner before calling to be picked up, “Oh and unnie, I found the thorn in our side. Even got some pictures of it pricking someone else so it’s about time we sent in a gardener.” She laughed then let out a soft hum, “They did, but nothing some waterproof mascara couldn’t fix. Can we get ice cream tonight?”
