Eldarwen
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Things that I am : - Alarmingly Excellent
- Minion of Monty
- Thrall of Zay
 Loveliness : 68
Join date : 2008-05-06
Location : Somewhere over the Rainbow
 |  Subject: Del'ure - Mrrrrrr my gawd, Del'ure (Demon)  Wed Dec 09, 2009 9:42 pm | |
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Name: Del’ure
Age: 267
Birthday: Feburary 29th, 3442
Gender: Male
Type Of Person: Demon
Relation To Any Dragons:
Likes/Dislikes:
He not only likes but quite simply adores being admired. Women are immediately struck by his handsome exterior and almost instantly start drooling when they see him. Lucky for him, this usually avoids being asked questions about who he is and where he came from, especially as this is something he truly dislikes. Questions about his past are an easy way to make him angry, even though he might not show it openly. Of course, he has various stories to feed to the curious but he’d prefer not to be investigated. Though he enjoys making up the most incredible stories to seduce people into doing what he wants them to do. Playing and teasing, when he has time and interest in doing it, are his pastimes.
Description:
Generally, he walks the earth in a human body he has taken over from a poor guy who had the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time several 100 years back. Frankly, the body was breathtakingly handsome, one of the reasons why Del’ure acquired it, though sometimes he cursed his choice for all the attention it attracted, despite the demon’s love for standing in the spotlight. Everything had a time and a place – push him after he told you to bugger off and he will grant you a glimpse of his true self, which certainly is not a pleasant sight for any normal humanoid. As much as women want him, men instinctively hate his guts with such ferocity that it often ends in insulting arguments, which lead to fights. There was one thing however that caught humans off guard when they managed to get closer to him: his eyes, the only feature of his origins that he cannot change. They actually had the form of cats’ eyes and were of such a piercing green that they stood in bright contrast to his pale skin. Other than that, he looked like the average 28 year old human, rather tall, dark brown hair that falls into his face to partially cover up his features, adding to the mystery that attracts women, just like the small scar that runs from his left ear towards the middle of his cheek.
Seeing that Del’ure spends most of his time outside of the demonic realm, his true self remains hidden to the exterior, beneath the skin of his involuntary human donor. The horrible mask of a face would make people freeze in terror while at the same time the heat of his form would start melting them should they be too close. As a demon, Del’ure does not so much have a body as a form which is kind of a floating shape which could be distinguished as a body would it be still. Staring at it for a while would make it seem blurry and indistinguishable.
Other:
As Del’ure takes pleasure in being admired, the logical choice of action is to simply not retreat back to his true form. His demon form is not the prettiest of sights and he very rarely shows it. Should he ever reveal his complete self to anyone, this anyone will either have the misfortune of spending the most horrible moments of their lives or – this is highly unlikely to ever happen – Del’ure will have chosen someone he trusts with his life, or rather someone he knows could survive the sight of what he really is.
Being a demon, Del’ure has a certain affinity with fire. He is able to create fire out of thin air, can manipulate it, bend it to its will even if the flames are not his own. Other than that, he can hypnotise others, turning them into puppets without free will. However, he refrains from using this ability when it is not absolutely necessary, not only because it attracts far too much attention, but also because it requires a lot of energy, which he prefers to keep in store for situations that have impending doom written all over them – and those occur rather regulary. Needless to say that Del’ure is quite a badass and not afraid to get his fingers dirty.
Intro I've written at some point to put it all into a bit of context:
Del’ure cursed the body he had taken over. Today was one of those days where he simply wanted to be invisible and go about his business without interruptions. The body was attracting far too much attention for his own good at the moment. Not that he didn’t like turning heads. It was one of the things he enjoyed when walking the earth. Apparently, there was something about him that women seemed to like and they were drawn to him like a moth to a flame, which obviously never ended well for them. Not that he would kill them, well not all of them, but they were broken hearted when he was done with them. He had never cared about anyone but himself, and he wasn’t about to start now.
With the other gender, it was quite a different story. More than once, he had walked into a bar and some of the men had gotten out of their seats, ready to fight him for the slightest wrong move or word. Something about him was seemingly very apparently threatening to them. Del’ure had to be careful about those, because that would certainly end badly and his boss would tell him otherwise if he were to go about making everyone aware that there are unnatural creatures running loose. Not that he looked any different from the humans around him, well that was not until you had a little closer contact with him. He was a rather tall member of the male species, dark hair that was long enough to fall into his face and cover up his eyes most of the time. These were actually what distinguished him most prominently from the rest of humanity, the part where people should have noticed he was not quite like them.
But alas, most considered it to be contact lenses, but the shape of cats’ eyes was actually their true form. They were piercing green, standing in bright contrast to his pale skin and the dark brown colour of his hair. A small scar ran from his left ear towards the middle of his cheek, a scar he used to make up incredulous stories to call upon women’s pity. A very sad move indeed, in his opinion, but it worked every single time. In all honesty, he had no idea whatsoever where the scar had come from. It had already been there when he had taken over the body several years ago. It all added to the mysterious aura that was surrounding him. He found it quite interesting to play with and dressed accordingly. Usually dressed in dark clothes, belt with a prominent silver buckle that somehow always managed to highlight the shape of his hips, hinting towards a rather well trained body, he hid numerous scars underneath them. The clichée black leather coat was not to be forgotten. He loved to show off for one but on the other hand, the black coat did seem to signalise to certain humans that they should not even think about getting closer to him. Only one mugger had ever tried to rob him. Obviously, the guy would never try anything like it ever again.
However, Del’ure was pretty sure there was more than one of these bloody hunters on his tail this evening, though he did not know how and when they had picked up his trail. He stopped dead in his tracks, but the sound had already disappeared. Slightly tilting his head, the demon tried to listen harder but there was nothing. Absolute silence. The darkness was growing as night was falling over the city. Even the many street lights didn’t make it that much brighter. Del’ure turned into a small alley way between two large buildings, wanting to test whether he was really being followed or not. He kept hearing footsteps but they halted every time his did and he slowly got the impression he was simply hearing the echo of his own steps, nothing more. ‘Maybe I am just growing paranoid’, he scolded himself. Shaking his head, he moved forward. He still had business to finish tonight and this could not wait.
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