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Orpheus Hall


0 · 562 views · located in The Medialoum

a character in “Coffee in Hell”, as played by By Starlight


Orpheus - meaning "the darkness of night"
Hall - Middle English name meaning "to cover, conceal."


Demon Male 1

Orpheus Hall

Demon - Sloth and Lust mix.
The sloth of him mostly dominates, although the lust occasionally overtakes it.



Orpheus' clothing is always clean and well-kept, but he changes styles depending on the situation. He owns everything from an impeccably-tailored three-piece suit to t-shirts, though he seems to gravitate toward collared shirts or sweaters and a long duster coat.


Overall, he's deep in his own way, has a gentlemanly manner, low motivation, and a protective side deep within him.
Because he is a mixed breed, sloth & lust, he has a "weakness" you could say when it comes to women. He's very attracted to anyone of the opposite gender, and has little self control, that being if you ever talk to him alone as a girl he'll either come off as creepy or over confidently flirty. There's a difference between lust and love for him, and when it comes to lust he's very rough and aggressive when it comes to getting what he wants. If it's love, he's shy and gentle, fearing he'll hurt the one he cares about accidently. He's rarely in love and usually tries to avoid it. (will go move into detail of his current love in history.)

+The sky+
+The cold+
+Long hair+
+Seeing your breath in the cold+
+Laying in the grass+
-Being too hot-
-The beach-
-Feeling embarrassed-
-Large bodies of water-
-The Summer-
-The sun-
-Himself occasionally-
-Citrusy smells-
-Spicy smells-
-Being stared at-

Brief history: [Required. Make sure to talk about your character's relationship- were the two of you significant others, or just crushes, or even married? This probably can't be worked out in detail until your partner's sheet is in. This all can be short if you'd like, but for humans, explain how you died, and for all roles, explain how you ended up as a guardian, etc. Be creative. Perhaps getting out of a worse punishment, or guilt, or good ole patriotism!]
Other: [You can design your character skeleton to look however you want, but all of these fields must be filled out. You can even add more fields if you want, but this info is required. Now have FUN! Oh, and please please PLEASE read all the rules and the ENTIRE plot before submitting a sheet, okay? <33 Love y'all!]

So begins...

Orpheus Hall's Story


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Orpheus Hall Character Portrait: Charlie Fletcher Character Portrait: Lilith Amaris
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Lilith lay sprawled out on the stairs of the palace, unmoving. Oh, she was quite conscious, and she hadn't been harmed too badly, except that she had a rather large gash on her thigh and her right arm had landed in an unfortunate position. Every time she blinked, a searing pain tore through her head, white-hot, and her head rang like there were church bells inside it. How she knew what they sounded like, we'll never know. She didn't even go to church. With her good arm, Lilith shielded her eyes from the sunlight, but she was too weak. She smacked her hand down on the steps, a ripple of frustration running through her. Lilith pushed herself into a sitting position, surveying her surroundings. The Mediaolum was completely trashed- rubble was piled up into a mountain of jagged marble, broken glass sitting like thousands of piercing diamonds. Lilith attempted to lift her limp right arm, but as soon as she did so, a sensation like electricity coursed down her arm, sizzling and slicing at her nerves. "Fuck," she groaned, much to the horror of an elderly woman near her. She saw hurt souls nursing their wounds, or running to find someone. "Find someone..." she thought. Suddenly, the light in her eyes went on. Orpheus. If the Mediaolum was this wrecked, she hated to think about what had happened to Orpheus. She set out at a jog, but urgency pushed her to a sprint.

"Orpheus?" she called out. "Orpheus!" She stopped by anyone who looked as if they might be her beloved Pheesh, searching their faces desperately for the features that she found so dear to her now. Tendrils of Lilith's hair were plastered onto her forehead, and her leg was starting to bleed at an alarming rate. Not that it would really do anything, of course, she wasn't really alive in the first place. "Orpheus Hall, I swear to all that's unholy, if I find your scrawny ass, I'm going to kick you. Hard," she muttered under her breath, running her shaking fingers through her tangled hair. Lilith set out at a brisk pace, her right arm still hanging uselessly at her side. Underneath a tree, she saw a distinctly male, black-haired figure lying down, no sign of (after) life showing. "Oh, no, no, this is not Orpheus, please don't let this be Orpheus!" With great effort, Lilith used her one good arm to halfway turn the body onto its side. Lilith's blue eyes scanned their face anxiously, and then brought her hands up to her face as tears flowed down her cheeks, leaving a slick trail after them. Lilith looked back down at the face one last time, carefully examining every aspect of it. It wasn't Orpheus. Not the brown eyes, which had been open. Not the button nose. Not the full lips. Not the eyebrows. It wasn't him, and that's all that really mattered, wasn't it?

Lilith gently closed the boy's eyelids with her fingers, making him look as if he was asleep. Did he look like this when he had died? Had he looked so peaceful, like he was now? She made a mental note to see if this boy was really dead (again), and if he wasn't, then maybe she'd write him a get well soon card or something. "Or something," she thought to herself. With one last glance at the boy's body (and quite a bit more hope than before, might I add), Lilith took off. "Pheesh!"


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Orpheus Hall Character Portrait: Lilith Amaris
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The smell was the first thing he sensed-the only thing that seemed to refresh what he had of his memory. It was blood, and a lot of it. He hadn't even opened his eyes or made any movement out of his current position, mainly because he was still trying to figure out what that was. He didn't recall where he was, or who he was for that matter. Everything felt foreign, whether it was the blood drying on his skin or the sharp pain in his back. His body ached, as well as a dull pressure that squeezed his head. As he regained his consciousness he also regained the feeling in every nerve of his body unfortunately for the situation given. Though he didn't remember, he'd fallen off the roof of his house.
Raven-black eyelashes parted, exposing a faint sliver of blue iris to the outside world. Through the half-open ocular, he noted that the balance of colors in the sky had shifted now to oranges and yellows, the red and purple receding as they were wont to do upon the dawn’s breaking. He wondered if it even were dawn, considering the darkness that wrapped itself beneath the light. He didn't know what time of day it was, nor could he see the sun directly. He had an uneasy feeling that the destruction and rubble that laid around hadn't always been there.
His eye fell closed again, and Orpheus returned to his meditations, heedless of the faint breeze that teased his uncanny black hair and the fabric of his loose red shirt. With any will he still had he used to straighten, and dug the palms of his hands into the ground to prop himself up against the wall of the building. His breathing was constant, but shallow and quivering. Nothing came back to him really, though he wasn't aware anything should have.
He knew he'd was old. Very old. He'd been around for a long time. He felt ancient clocks of time clicking and chiming in his head, in his whole body, but no recollection of how he'd spent the many centuries. He didn't ask himself many questions, in fear he'd have very little answers. He didn't have any idea what to ask either. Everything felt strange, yet at the same time he didn't know anything else. There were a few basic ideas of knowledge in his mind, but anything of personal matter was blank.
Something- or someone, caught his attention. Orpheus, it called. He recognised the name as his own, though moments before he wouldn't have been able to say he had one.
He search the area, only looking but no effort to get up. He didn't know who was calling him, or why for that matter. His caution worried him, wary of the fact that he should know a lot more than he did. Though it seemed he'd regain it slowly with time. He debated calling out to it, but instead let out a cough that stung in his chest. He spit out a coppery taste of blood beside him, and let his body relax in an effort to release some pain. Orpheus used the wall he'd been leaning on to stand, but only got most of the way before having to completely use it for support. Where was he, anyway?