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Arlel

A demon cursed with unnatural beauty by Asmodeus, in order to fulfill her duties as a succubus of the Second Circle.

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a character in “The Multiverse”, originally authored by RolePlayGateway, as played by EarthWanderer08

Description

Name (Post Re-birth): Arlel
Alias: Cassandra,
Age (appearance): Twenty-three
Gender: Female
Position: Succubus

Appearance: Arlel is a petite, slight young woman who appears no older than her early twenties and has been cursed with a beauty that forms a catalyst for evil in the hearts of men. Her slender frame gives her the appearance of vulnerability, and her sharp features the look of youthful petulance. Night-black hair only complements the milky paleness of her skin, and off-sets large, emerald eyes that sit like the eyes of a china doll. Her flesh is marked only by the swirling black ink of a tattoo that stretches up the entire right side of her body, from ankle to shoulder. She is truly creature of inhuman beauty.

Beneath this facade lies her true form. Arlel is no longer human, if she ever was; instead she is a creature twisted by her pacts with hell. Though few can see, and will ever see, what Arlel truly looks like, there are those that have. She is said to have skin the color of freshly burnt flesh, cracked with veins. Though she looses none of her beauty, her features seem to contort and become hideous to behold; hair like worms and eyes simply blackened sockets...

Personality

Abilities:
- Arlel holds dominion over the basic demonic principles: she holds the ability to possess those of a weaker mind, or whom willingly allow her into their body. As a succubus, the act of reproduction also acts as a conduit for her to possess another being. Her position as a succubus has also granted her the ability of seduction, both as a physical manifestation of beauty and of an unnatural aura.
- As a demon, Arlel possesses a resilience and fortitude which overshadows that of a mere mortal. She is capable of surviving afflictions and wounds which, while painful and debilitating, will heal where a mortal would perish. Her mortal vessel can be killed however, although she will simply be recycled back to Hell. While in Hell, or in her demonic form, she gains the ability to regenerate lost parts of her body. She also has unnatural strength and reflexive speed, both of which are heightened at the aforementioned times.
- Due to her incarceration in the Ninth Circle and Second Circle, Arlel has been endowed with certain powers. This closely resembles an elemental control over the elements of 'water', 'wind' and 'ice'. This seems to give credence to the myth that the Ninth Circle is frozen.
- Arlel has the unique ability to resurrect people whom are trapped in Hell, or return souls resurrected by herself or others. Each resurrection comes at a price.
- As a demon, Arlel has the ability to traverse between the realms of Hell and Earth at will. She is also able to draw others with her, even if they are living (though they may return by traversing from whichever Circle they are in). Due to the time lapses between these realms, Arlel can appear to 'teleport' in the mortal realm.

Flaws:
- Her beauty and powers of seduction are uncontrollable; she has no power over those who are attracted to her, and as a succubus can be compelled by Asmodeus to fulfill her duties by laying with any man whom she enchants. If she refuses this compulsion, she can be placed into the Second Circle as punishment. Some believe this has already happened.
- The price of resurrection: Arlel must traverse each Circle of Hell to search for the soul she wishes to release, until it is found. Once it is found, she must attempt to bring the soul back the path she came - if her target turns back, or is lost from her during the journey, they will forever be trapped in the Circle they were lost in. Arlel only gets one chance. Once a person is brought from Hell, they indebt their souls automatically to Asmodeus whom grants Arlel her powers. Because of this, the returned souls must become either succubus, or incubus.

Personality: Arlel is, and as far as anyone knows has always been, a woman of great sin. Her primary sinful traits are those of wrath and lust, and she shows these veins prominently throughout her character. Arrogant, intolerant and even petulant Arlel is the embodiment of what mortals depict a succubus to be.
Do not mistake this for blind evil, however, for these are traits that many mortals share. Arlel is capable of friendship, perhaps even love and mercy. Perhaps her greatest virtue is that of diligence; she is far from a mindless cohort of Hell. As with all beings, their are two sides; one must always be face-down, however. For a demon temptress, the decision of which side to show is a simple one.

History

Biography: There is almost no textual or historical reference to Arlel that can be verified or authenticated. What little there is comes mostly in the form of word of mouth, passed down as myth throughout generations of families that have been affected by her presence in their pasts. The earliest authentic textual reference to her name is dated at belonging to the 16th Century, and was found in what is now Germany, although this the only reference from that region.

There is little useful information that can be garnered from these texts: Most agree that her name is Arlel, although texts from the Far East also use the name Orceh. She appears to be at least five-hundred years old if the Germanic text is to be believed, and is said to be able to bring winter before its time.

The rest of her story is known only to herself and those whom hold the key to her shackles.

So begins...

Arlel's Story

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#, as written by Vyral
Arlel flipped her hair as she entered the bar, revealing the bare skin of her ceramic-white throat. She didn't pause as she entered, despite being alone. Instead she headed straight for the bar and sat down on a stool, her small figure barely occupying it. She flicked her hair again - albeit this time, it was so she could see - and used the mirrors to gaze at the bars occupants. She kept a playful smile dancing across her young face, all too aware of Asmodeus' anger at her from the other night.

Her smile slipped at that thought, and instead of pushing her chest out and fluttering her eyelids she lapsed into a muted self-loathing.

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#, as written by Vyral
Arlel sat at the bar, her fingertip gently tracing the the rim of a glass before her. It's contents were untouched, shown clearly by the lack of lipstick marring the brim of the glass. Arlel flicked her hair with a practiced twist of her head, taking full advantage of her long neck and dark tresses. She cast a glance about the bar using the mirror. Though she had to keep the act up, she hoped dearly that today Asmodeus would spare her dignity.

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#, as written by Vyral
Arlel felt her insides sink. It was a tragic normality that Asmodeus had no sympathy for his cohorts; and so he had punished her insolence with something which appeared nothing more than a child. She had managed not to cringe at the boys playful wink - she did however sympathize with his crushing off the fly, namely because there were many in this world to whom she wished she could do the same. Instead of following her feelings, Arlel shot Talon a light-hearted smile that she hoped he wouldn't notice. They always did, though.

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Arlel felt a wave of relief flood her when the guy didn't approach her. For a second she had thought he was going too; and she wouldn't be able to do a single thing about it. Still she felt compelled to smile. At least she hadn't been forced to approach the guy though; though she could feel the idea ticking over in Asmodeus' mind. He was a fickle being.

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#, as written by Vyral
Arlel had already noted that the guy was drinking and humming out of tune; that meant he was probably drunk. That didn't help her situation in the slightest. She managed not to cringe at the thought of the drunken teenager working up his courage over a bottle of beer. Instead, she broke her gaze and lifted her glass to her mouth. Water - Arlel never drank alcohol.

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Arlel was pretty sure that the guy was talking to himself this time. For some reason that irritated her; it was beyond her capacity to feel sympathy, and so instead she felt an unjustified dislike for the young guy. She found herself silently wishing he would choke to death on whatever the hell it was that occupied that little bottle. All the while, however, she smiled like the tragic little slave that she was.

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Arlel felt her blood pressure rise - and not in a good way - as the guy approached her. She hoped; despicably so; that his debilitation would discourage any moves towards flirting with her. She supposed that wouldn't be the case though; Asmodeus didn't make life easy for her. Much to her chagrin, she smiled when the young guy approached her.

"I'm fine now, thank-you." The words felt sickly in her mouth; forced. She wasn't in the mood for this today. "Can I get you another beer?" Inside, she cursed the depths that had thrown her upwards.

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Arlel would have felt sympathy if she wasn't so caught up in her own eternal self-loathing. As it was, she simply gave a thin-lipped smile. Asmodeus was going to be pissed about this, but she could do with the break that entailed - she hoped. She turned her attention back to Talon, her smile no longer there.

"I noticed." Her reply was curt. "Yeah; could you go into Hell and rescue my soul, kid?" Abrasive, and overly arrogant - the perfect way to get help.

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Arlel let out a mirthless laugh. The guy thought she was joking; for a split second she considered revealing her try guise to him. The thought was quashed promptly though. Instead, she looked the young guy squarely in the eyes for a long, pervasive minute before speaking again.

"Do you really think you have a chance?" she asked. Arlel - citizen of the Second and Ninth Circles of Hell. Hardly hard to guess, given her attitude.

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#, as written by Vyral
Arlel decided she would take a risk. One of the few in her centuries of life; usually diligence was her only virtue. She turned around to check the guy out properly; he didn't look harmful, nothing she couldn't resolve if it all went pear-shape. She sighed.

"Alright. If your not here for a screw, then I don't mind. Want a glass of water?" Something in her voice still screamed: 'get lost' but the coldness in her eyes had dissapeared. For now.

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Arlel grunted without so much as a shadow of a smile. The idea of the youth's bladder failing while he sat beside her was hardly encouraging. She decided to try and ignore the comment, lest her tempter boil up.

"Anyone whose not trying to get their leg over is fine company to me, kid. It might discourage the other assholes lurking around, at least." As she said that, she cast a caustic glance over her shoulder. "What's your name then, kid?" she asked, turning back towards him.

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Arlel thought that the name was indicative of his pompous attitude, but managed to retain the sneer that came with the thought. At least the name suited him, she thought. She looked at the hand he had stuck out, and decided to ignore it in favour of lifting her glass to her lips just before speaking.

"I'm Arlel." She took a sip of her water and set the glass done again. "All I need is for you to stay exactly where you are, so that no-one else decides to come over. Alright?"

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Arlel found his pained wince as he adjusted himself amusing, though she didn't let on to this fact. If the young man was going to suffer in her company, that might just keep her spirits high enough to continue the conversation. A malicious smile cut across her delicate features before she could contain it.

"No. Nothing. Why, is there something you had on your mind, kid?"

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Arlel raised an eyebrow this time. At least she had witnessed the pleasure of him hacking into the back of his hand. It made it all worthwhile.

"I'm referring to you as kid because you are a kid." The patronising tone to her voice was evident. "Is that a problem, kid?"

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Arlel let out another of her emotionally devoid laughs. It's hollow nature was an accurate metaphor for her hearts capacity for sympathy. She had actually upset the kid, go figure. Unfortunately, he was acting as an (unwilling) barrier between her and the over-eager young men constantly leering over at her. She offered him a more gentle smile, however forced it appeared.

"No, you don't But you will anyway, right?" It was more statement than question. "Small talk, huh?" That amused her. "Well, you look pretty small. So talk." Somehow the idea of keeping her meat-shield have evaporated somewhere between thought and application.

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Arlel snorted loudly at that. This kid really thought his life was that difficult? It was the typical attitude of almost every middle-class kid she met in this city. Woe be me. It made her want to spit on him; or worse. She gave him a delicate smile, making sure the emotions that spurred it where well concealed.

"Listen, kid. I doubt your life is really half as bad as you think. After all, are you forced to screw people because you sold your soul?"

Perhaps that was a bit too far, but she was in a crap mood as it was. This kids holier-than-thou attitude wasn't helping.

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With a flick of her hair, Arlel strode past the young woman and up to Gambit's. The bar was nestled in the street and she had overlooked it more than once before she had come to know of it. Arrogance dripping from every pore of her body, she pushed open the door and strode inside, hips swaying rhythmically with every soft footfall. The bar seemed quiet; only a loose scattering of people chatting idly beneath the ambient lightning of the room, orange glows flickering off the gloss of dark wooden tables, and half-empty glasses. She strode towards the bar, meeting no-ones eyes and yet bursting with self-confidence.

"I'll have a vodka. Ice, too."

Without a please, she slung her legs around the bar stool and slid her lithe frame atop it. The bartender gave her a dubious look, and then hurried off to fetch her drink. When he returned she practically threw the money at him, and then proceeded to ignore him. Instead, she swiveled her seat around and watched the rooms occupants with a thin smile on her face. It was not a pleasant one.

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Over the rim of her glass, Arlel have the newcomer a barely concealed glance of distasteful amusement. Draining the final contents, she grimaced slightly and then rested the glass on the bar top. She lent back, resting her delicate elbows on the bars surface and arching her back gently. She already had the feeling that she wasn't going to have much luck tonight, and unsurprisingly the most attractive person in the room was a female.

With a characteristic grunt, she spun around in her chair to face the bartender again. He gave her a hopeful, if timid, smile that she did not return. Eyes flaring beneath her dark fringe, she was anything but amused with the young bartender.

"Another. A double this time." Getting drunk seemed the last viable option for the night.

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Barely hidden disgust was the first thing to cross over the young womans face as she looked at Scissors. Following that was a look of incredulous surprise and annoyance. She cast a long, deliberate glance up and down the small man and then rolled her eyes at him, making his dislike plainly obvious.

"If you really must."

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Arlel walks into the bar, sensing her queen having been her just a awhile ago. She came in with a seductive gait, but she knew better than to try to be too seductive, or mayube someone might find her out. She looked around the bar, looking for a mark, she always leaves a mark when she goes anywhere with this much activity. She see's a guy talking to a lady, the guy was marked by the queen. She would have to inform him of the outcome of the event that transpired.

Arlel walks over to the counter, and looks at the drinks that were sure ordered by the queen, per usually she left me my favorite drinks. Some how knowing I was coming. *sigh*. She walked between the two, rather rudely, at that.

"Excuss me sir" she took a sip of the mixed drink. "I have to know, do you know what it means that you drank from the queen, and she marked you?"

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Arlel looks at the wench behind her that was possess, "Shut up for a sec ok?"

"Look, you, what your name Marked One?"

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Arlel ignored the Possessed Wench, "ok, Adrian, ok. look. You are in a world of trouble...ehh, now that you have been marked, you will never again want to feed pon another soul. I also noticed that you stupidly let her feed on your soul, I don't usulay care, but are you insane? Now she can find you, and invade your mind no matter where you go. Unless you have some very intense barrier to block telepathic pathways."

Arlel, sipping sipping some more of the drink, realized that this guy would get caught up up in Lilith, and Bezulbub...shit, this is going to get messy.

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Arlel looked at the possessed wench and responded half heartedly. "I do believe I do, seeing how as the Lilith burned my face out of wrath for what Asmodeus did to her, I think I know." She knew pain well, she just use illusionary magic to cover her face with it's orignal image.

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"I will not speak of my affinities to those you know little about. Their nature is that of the Lady of Pain, swift death." Arlel stared back at the wench, not really caring obut The Lady, for she wouldn't harm her. Lilith wouldn't tolerate it, and The Lady didn't want war. Expecially in her current vessel.

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"Apparently, your a pawn, but I doubt I'm supposed to know where you fit. My Queen will tell you that." she said, looking at the confused Adrian. Afterwhich she glanced at the wench again. "What the hell is that door? Who do you think I am? Some dumb bimbo who lostens to ugly possessed lesser beings? I don't think so hun."