General persona: Arram gives out a very calm, serene and almost Zen-like aura that surrounds him frequently. Everything about him is just relaxing and able to soothe anyone though he can have his mischievous streaks. Arram is very intellectual and meticulous- fussing over little things like organization and the manner of which things are put in. Some people may describe him as a bit of an OCD freak but he just likes things to be spic and spam. But even so, there are hints of violent, horrible anger behind that calm and soothing face. And it is very dangerous- that much is known.
Likes: Magic, Wine, Unique people, Cute things, India, Hookah, Weed, Tobacco, Lace, Old Times, The desert
Dislikes: Some forms of technology, Things that smell too strong, Fish, Some forms of technology
Fears/Phobis: The fear of being forgotten, children, things that are too tight, being ridiculed to a point where it is harassment.
Other: He knows much more when it comes to history since he's been around for so long.

Weapons: A light, stylized black and purple Ring Blade when he is in human form. It has several curved spikes so they an curl and rip out skin more. It is also been made to channel some magical attacks. As full Djinni, nature is his weapon.
Armor: He wears none for he finds no need for it.
Other: He does have magical shields put up around him that can block him from sight or being detected.

A demon created from the dust of Earth's land and the fires of hell, Arram was a very powerful djinni. He was at the wars in Prague, fought alongside Bartimues and was known to be one of the most fearsome of all the demons. It was only during the battles of Persia did, he meet his downfall. Seduced by a man in the army, Arram slowly found himself drawn to him- wanting to protect this mere human that was his enemy. Falling deeper and deeper into this love- this obsession- he was betrayed in the end. After telling this man what he was, how he felt, everything there was to know the man double crossed and captured him.

His prison for 250 years was not a lamp, or a glass, or a bowl but rather, in a book. His true name was written down and he could be summoned by any mage that wished his assistance at any time. Whether it be to fight battles or to be one to cure the hungry lust inside these people.

Hate boiled behind this calm exterior. Building and growing and forming inside him, simpering and flashing at small intervals only to be reigned back in. He grew to hate every single human on the Earth- especially men.

Especially any man that came from the one person who had betrayed his heart and himself.