What Will Azazel Do… If They Discovered A Dead Body?

Waiting patiently for the other to show up, he knew it might take a moment or so, given which neighbor this was. He supposed he had a lot more in common with them, now, than he did before. Though in spite of that, he wasn't turning into more agoraphobic behavior, he had to keep up appearances, in the face of constant hounding on where he had been for so long in his absence. Azazel breathed, bringing a hand up to brush against the potted plant, trying to keep that same energy even now.

Seeing a movement at the blinds, he tilted his head a bit. Then looked to the door the moment the other came to and opened it, “Hey-” He glanced away, looking across the neighborhood, sure others were again watching him. Watching them. Closing his eyes a moment, he laughed a bit before opening his eyes and staring over at Alice's place, “Yeah. Everything's…well, great? I guess? Considering everything.” Adjusting the potted plant, he turned more toward Seokmin, giving the other his full attention, “Just been out watering my yard-and noticed I had too much-uhm, stuff. So I'm taking it over to a friend's. But wanted to stop by, check in-” Glancing toward the stack of papers, and having remembered the overgrowth of the yard, he figured the other was alive, but that it was good to check, just in case, “What about you, get out lately?”

existing somewhere between collapse and endurance, seokmin moved through life like someone walking a fraying tightrope: careful, numb, always bracing for the inevitable fall. survival, after all, was still survival — even if it had long since ceased to resemble anything like living. the lawn had grown wild, grass in need of a cut; a few sun-bleached newspapers forgotten about on the porch, their headlines irrelevant now — not that they’d ever been read in the first place. and yet, there was something almost charming about the chaos. a scattering of stubborn plants clung to life, climbing trellises and curling along the siding; to some, it might have even looked like a quaint, overgrown cottage, tucked into its own little jungle. it was a nice place to return to after a long day ( or night ) at work. luckily, there was no need to leave the shelter of his humble abode tonight. his security jacket hung untouched by the door, a silent confirmation that, for the next twenty-four hours, he could exist separately from the outside world — just the way he preferred it. which made the knock at the door all the stranger. who could possibly need him now? whatever it was, it seemed urgent enough — the noise grating. reluctance settled in his chest. seokmin moved soundlessly across the room, pausing by one of the windows to peek out of one the blinds, lifted just enough to see without being seen. always cautious. always on edge. it was only his neighbour. still wary, but less so upon seeing a friendly face on the other side, he unlocked the door and opened it. “hi, azazel,” he greeted, clearing his throat. “what, um… is everything okay?”

Glancing over at the male sitting near him, he curled his nose a bit. Adjusting his head back against his backpack as he was trying to silence the crowd around him again. But those few seconds of sleep had seemed to be all he would be getting, all his mind was going to allow him for the moment. Listening to the other reply to him, he continued to keep his eyes closed for a bit, before turning his face into his hand and just staying like that for a bit before moving to sit up, “If you wanted to.” He wondered if that meant he was not making himself much of a target. Which was clearly good, given he was so easy to fall asleep in such an open and public space, amongst a crowd, “Maybe- but I doubt you would have found anything of worth besides a couple of hundred in cash.”

Which he wasn't willing to kill a man over, so he'd just let it be taken and enjoyed his nap. Staring at the other's neck, he wondered just how easy it could have been done while they were preoccupied with their petty thieving. Then, he blinked and looked away, bringing his left hand up to massage his temple as he pushed those errant thoughts out of his mind. Those weren't really his. Or, he thought, was so unlike him. Or was it? Azazel moved to sit up, “You could say I'm living my life on the razor's edge, I guess?”

Levi found himself taking a smoke break pretty often, not even due to the stress at this point. It was just habit. He figured he'd be a little polite and take a break near a bench. Though it felt like everyone smoked nowadays. He watched a couple head towards a booth, shaking his head. "Fuckin' suckers." He muttered under his breath, forgetting that he was in public. Honestly, Levi was just talking to himself, which he did a lot. it probably made him seem a little bit crazy to others. "That's what everyone says. But y'know, ain't nothing wrong with sleeping. Might not wanna do it 'round here. If I wanted to, I could've taken whatever was in your pockets."

an embrace

He couldn't guess when exactly he even fell asleep, to be honest. Maybe that was just part of what was going on with him these days, he had been having a lot of those moments. Azazel lay with his head pressed against the wheel of the car he had rented for the drive-in. Just some minutes before, he was watching the wide screen, a little annoyed at where his car was concerning it, but he supposed he was just going to have to live with it. Though the longer he sat that, the more he realized, he actually, fucking hated going to drive-ins. Too tired to do anything about it at that moment, he felt himself starting to lull into sleep as things started picking up on the screen.

The next thing he knew, he was dreaming of something far better than what was going on on the screen. Or maybe it was worse, either way, as he drifted farther off to sleep, his breathing picked up, minutes later, a layer of sweat started to form. Twitching here and there, he was having quite an episode, whatever he was dreaming. That was until something suddenly interrupted, perhaps, in his mind, a new horror, at that. Jerking up suddenly, he gasped, his hands pushed against the horn, sounding it off in the drive-in. Panting, he turned to look at Bandit as she was talking. Narrowing his eyes on the her he frowned, “Dammit, Bandit… “ Catching is breath, Azazel rolled down the window a bit, “Pink…dream boat…” Looking confused for a moment, he turned his head, glancing around them before gesturing to the passenger seat.

“Are you planning to crawl over my lap?! Why are you on this side of the car?” He asked in a whispered tone. Then looked toward the screen, yawning at the next question. He rolled his shoulders and shook his head, “I think it's a commercial at the moment, the first murder happened already.” Looking at Bandit as she seemed to bribe him with popcorn, he raised his eyebrows at that, then laughed a bit before mumbling, “Well, unless you're planning to crawl over my lap, you need to go around to the otherside- also, they didn't have candy?”

@withoutmonsterswebecomethem at the weekend of horrors, april 21st after 8PM

Bang, bang, bang, it was a thunderous incantation of her knuckles and a closed fist smacking against the driver's side door of the first familiar face that she had found, waiting for the snoozing driver to stir like a bear from hibernation, and when their eyes caught sight of movement inside, they bent themselves at a damn near ninety-degree angle to get their face as close to the window as they could without squishing their whole-ass cheek up against it and smiled widely, giving another knock for good measure. "Hey! Sleepin' beauty. Ya got room for one more in there? I ran out'a pocket change to spend on one'a these nice rentals and my pink dreamboat's in the shop." No, she wasn't talking about a man, or a woman, or anyone, for that matter — who was going to have the audacity to tie down Bandit Vaddhana, queen of sequins and glitter? — merely her beloved car who owned the two halves of her heart. It was with great disappointment that she found herself a bit crushed by the warbling of the screen and the distorted voices, a picture-in-picture she hadn't paid for appearing, and she pouted her lips. "Did I miss the flick already? Or is this some kind'a commercial break?" she ventured, her eyes wandering in the direction of the silver screen, and making a face. A little rude to interrupt a showgirl's only chance at horror comedy, but if they went back after the fact, she forgave them. "Anyway! I got popcorn with half ya name on it if you'll share the ride."

Azazel Hawthorn

HEY, i think i just saw AZAZEL HAWTHORN walking down the strip. stop by to catch up and you’ll learn the THIRTY-ONE YEAR OLD is working as a BIOTECHNOLOGIST and lives in STARGAZER VILLAS. given they are ECCENTRIC but BRUTAL, it’s likely that they ARE NOT a vampire. on the flipside, rumor has it that THEY HAVE BEEN MISSING FOR A WHILE AND CAME BACK CHANGED, TO WHISPERS OF WHAT COULD HAVE HAPPENED IN THEY’RE LONG ABSENCE, ONE SUCH RUMOR GUARDED ABOVE ALL OTHER, AN ILLNESS THEY KEEP TO THEMSELF. and it keeps them looking over their shoulder. i bet you can find them tearing up the dance floor to SURVIVOR by 2WEI and you’ll know why they’re called THE TORMENTED SOUL.  ☾ .⭒˚ avan jogia. non-binary + he/they. bisexual + scorpio.

General Information

Full name: Azazel Vayu Hawthorn Reason or meaning of name: Azazel-Scapegoat Vayu-Air Hawthorn- Thorn Bush Nickname: Zaz/Zel/Hawthorn/(Insert none name-related nicknames here) Reason for nicknames: His names. Age: 31 How old does he/she appear: 25 Nationality: American. Religion: None. Place of birth: Jarbidge, Nevada The current living place: Las Vegas, Nevada Job title: Biotechnologist. Employing company: Income: That's no one's business but his. Socioeconomic status: That's no one's business but his. Is he or she married? No. Pets: Desert Lynx Cat (Caracal) -Female- Name: Moonshine, Permit: Acquired. Russian Tortoise -Male- Name: Jellybean. Green Iguana -Male- Name: Crackers. Irish wolfhound -Female- Name: Shadow. Mother tongue: American English. Birthday: November 22. Does he or she own a home? Yes. Clubs/Memberships: Math Club, Band (Thunderstorm Dreams: Back-Up Vocals/other), Robotics Club, History Club, Dance Club, Theater Club, Book Club, Chemistry Club, Occult Club, Dungeons and Dragons Club. Public perception of them: Introverted but welcome before his disappearance, unsettling and confused after he comes back. Plays a musical instrument?: Yes, his voice and oboe are on a near professional level. But practices in other instruments, with varying ability, mostly at the average skill. Plays a sport?: Yes, Golf/Tennis/Volleyball/Baseball/Skateboarding/Mixed Martial Arts/Soccer/Gymnastics. How he/she would spend a rainy day: Inside doing inside hobbies. Smokes: Yes. Drinks: Yes. Other drugs: Yes, which is a very recent development for him. What does the character like?

Museums Pop music Worms Parks Lakes Color: white Rock Cryptozoology Sheep Fantasy novels Singing Graphic novels Stamps Choreography Clay Photography Caves Monster movies Snakes Baths Insects Alcohol

What does the character dislike?

Mimes Open windows Baking Epic music Throwing knives Going outside Color: olive Planes Pool Clowns Poetry Statues Minimalism Listening to people talk

Background

Trigger Warnings For: Drug use, Fire, Alcoholism, Pregnancy, Death, Mental Illness, Violence, Serious Injury.

Like most stories begin, Azazel's started with his parents meeting. Sharada was visiting the States, all the way from India, when she met D'Arcy. It was one of the last stops on her journey through America, to hit spots in Nevada, noted for their 'beauty', one may say. As she had a hobby in photography, she had heard at one point of Jarbidge being one such sight of beauty. A few days into visiting the area, she met her future husband, and of course, they hit it off. They would start to date, with much difficulty, given her not being a Native to America. But, decided to marry, and soon Sharada had been living in Jarbidge with her new husband. Over time, having four children, and a fifth on the way in the years that followed. Life with her beloved husband was a simple one, but a cherished one for the couple. Who focused on their children and raised them partially in an off-grid lifestyle. Sharada would take on the task of homeschooling her children. while D'Arcy had focused on his job that often took him away from home for long periods of time.

For a little extra cash for the family, Sharada would work part-time as a photographer, and in doing so, their children rarely wanted for anything. They grew up living among nature and relying on themselves to find entertainment. But they were not raised entirely outside of society either. They often played outside with other children who lived in the county. When he could, D'Arcy would get time off to take his wife and children on trips to several places within the country and outside of it. Sharada would take these opportunities to make the trips not only fun, with her husband, but to also use many of them to teach her children. However, with their fifth child coming, these outside activities became less and less for Sharada as she prepared for her newest baby. It was nearing the last few months now before the newest addition to the family would be disrupting her sleep, and she couldn't be more excited.

While on a shopping trip near Las Vegas to get a few more odds and ends, her husband was working later that day and not being able to grab them on his commute back home, she put her four older children into her station wagon and off the family went. After picking up the odds and ends she needed, she noticed she had nearly run out of gas and made a small stop in the city at a gas station. On her way to the door, a younger man came bolting out of the gas station, hissing a 'watch it, lady' or some other such thing as he slammed the door into Sharada, sending her harshly to the ground. One of her children shouted after the man about him being rude, which he either didn't hear or ignored, as Sharada winced in sudden pain. The store clerk came running out, screaming at the man about having called the cops before noticing Sharada and asking if she was okay, before they both noticed her water had broken. Shocked, as she didn't think she had been hurt that badly, Sharada asked the man to call for an ambulance, frightened, of course. Then, as she waited for that, she called one of her husband's relatives to come get the children then her husband, informing him what had happened, and what was happening.

Within the next hours, things grew to be extremely traumatic for the family as their youngest would be born not breathing, and it took a concerning amount of time for the staff to get their baby to breathe. Sharada verbalizing this as she watched her baby be worked on only feet away. Before finally hearing Azazel cry, it was weak, but it was there, and it eased some of the stress. D'Arcy grabbed Sharada's hand, assuring her their child was going to be okay. She wasn't even allowed to hold him as he was rushed away to an incubator. She could see he was so much smaller than his older siblings, and that made her worry more. When she was finally able to see him, even rushing it. But agonized over the fact that she had to see him this way. Holding Azazel for the first time in her arms, however, made whatever anger and pain from how he came to be here disappear. But a pit had formed thinking that the circumstances of her youngest's birth were an omen of a future of bad luck, and suddenly she realized she was crying at the idea of it. Her tears dropping onto Azazel, she stared, hoping that this was just her mind overreacting.

After some time being monitored Azazel was finally allowed to come home, things were good from that point on. For a while. Azazel's first year after that had no issues. But about that time, while his mother was looking away and dealing with something for one of his older siblings, another of his siblings, younger than the other, placed marbles onto the tray of Azazel's high chair, resulting in his consuming some and choking on one. Sharada managed to pull the marble out, but he had to get the others he swallowed out, through other methods. The sibling who did this had all marbles banned from the house till they could be used properly as punishment, along with other discipline. Life returned to normal again. Azazel had been about four or five, just starting to form a very distinct personality for trouble. Whether by his own action or just circumstances and bad luck. He had a lot of accidents, trips, falls, scuffed knees, and small animal attacks from getting too close to the wild ones. But nothing serious until one day, climbing a tall tree with one of his older siblings. He wanted to prove he was the better climber. Only to, about 20 feet off the ground, have one of his feet slip off the side of a branch, sending him straight to the ground, hitting it hard enough to knock him unconscious and crack his skull open.

Every couple of years, something like that seemed to be happening to the youngest Hawthorn. Sharada noticed changes each one had done to her son, and felt useless watching, feeling as if there were something more at play. But again, she was overthinking things. As she had given up her religion and chose to live comfortably with her husband, both deciding to live without it, and let their children decide if they wanted to become religious on their own. But, still, old habits did die hard for her. She remembered tales, of Djinn, of other such spirits. Often she wondered if this bad luck Azazel had seemed to have around him was her fault, for rejecting her religion. Perhaps it was the same for husband, the spirits were conspiring to punish them, and they were targeting her child. The idea seemed too silly to her until one day. While driving home with a now seven-year-old Azazel, who had been sporting a broken arm after taking a harsh hit while playing a soccer game. Yet Azazel had just told her of it, 'I'm okay.' When he noticed her worried look at him. He was always okay. But she caught him, sometimes, not always. When he was not trying to brave the pain. Why, she could not help, such a sweet, strong child, would be cursed by any 'angry spirits' was beyond her. Again, it was silly, and she had to stop thinking it was anything to do with 'spirits' or the like.

Azazel was chatting up his parents on this car ride home from his latest check-up on his broken arm. He had been yapping about monsters and musing about drawing one of his own. Or, well, painting. He enjoyed that much more than drawing. Though he was not good at it yet, he wasn't too bad. Azazel paused long enough to ask his dad, as he usually did, about his indigenous ancestry, specifically asking about monsters. His father, who was only half-blood and partially Germanic, commented that the last time he told him stories of such things, Azazel was scared for a week, thinking one was in his closet. Which Azazel giggled, commenting back that he wasn't afraid anymore! But before the conversation could carry on, his father noticed a truck driver driving strangely behind them. Azazel looked through his window to see what was going on, only to see the truck suddenly turned into the back of their car, sending it sliding to one side before it caught, and flipped onto its side. Sliding across the road, metal scraping against asphalt was the last thing Azazel heard before everything went dark.

Though he was awake, he could only guess that it was a few minutes later, his mother holding him as she was running. Staring back at his father, his vision blurred for a moment before looking over toward the truck, now on its side, and the smell of some kind of gas filled the air. Then he heard several booms, and fire started exploding, like a chain reaction, suddenly surrounding them. As things got hot and too bright, Azazel closed his eyes, feeling something hit his mother before they were both tumbling into grass, and rolling down a bit down a small slope. Though she was a bit burnt by the fire, she was more concerned with Azazel. Who had taken some burns on his arms, legs, and face. She was repeatedly asking to tell him where it hurt, otherwise, he ignored her. Because he was honestly too shocked by the situation to respond. Mostly because he didn't see his father. When Sharada noticed this too, she stood and screamed out her husband's name. Azazel was able to breathe when D'Arcy emerged from the smoke just a few feet away. Finally, he snapped back from his episode. Standing up and running to the other, shouting at his mother so she would see him, too.

After a bit of a stint in the hospital to make sure his wounds weren't more serious, Azazel, his mother, and father returned home and resumed life. Azazel wore the new wounds proudly. Showing them off to his siblings for the most part, not wanting to focus on anything else, as he didn't want to think about it. One of his oldest siblings commented that 'burn scars' would be cool. Then commented that Azazel's didn't look like they would be noticeable. Before the two got in a playfight over it in a childish little argument. Which, as soon as Sharada had noticed this, shut it down, not wanting to have Azazel's injuries get worse. One of his siblings commented that Azazel was a walking bad luck totem, jokingly at this before running off to find something they could all do that wouldn't irritate Azazel's wounds. Pulling out a board game. The family spent some hours playing before going to bed. Once again, life returned to normal for the family.

After that, things were normal for a long time. The 'bad luck' seemed to have worn out, much to Sharada's delight. Perhaps she was just worrying too much, and overthinking it, she decided. As Azazel and his siblings grew up, he still got into little accidents, but nothing too life-threatening, thankfully. He seemed to settle more into who he would soon to be as an adult, she came to realize. As well, he showed to be quite intelligent, earning some amount of attention due to her persistence. As he seemed to show a budding interest in the sciences, she pushed him in that direction, letting him experiment and grow in that field as much as she possibly could.

In school, Azazel was often viewed as 'odd' for his quirky personality. But capitalized on many of the more 'jocky' and 'popular' types, offering to get them passing grades for some extra cash, so he didn't have to spend his time working some crummy part-time job through school, like his older siblings did. Entirely so he could focus on his own pursuits. It was during these teenage years that he honed his advisory skills. Especially when he was in line to take up an important role in a local gang he had gotten in with in these early years of his life, because of his skills, and rather than being an adversary, he made a better asset. Not only did he want his classmates to just use his answers, he wanted them to learn, and he wanted them to love learning. Or, well, he hoped they would do the work on their own, and still pay him for it. But whatever got him money, he wasn't too upset with what the outcome would usually be. But eventually he skipped a couple of grades, and within a few years, was attending university, one of the best in the country. Earning a doctorate and falling in love.

Eventually the two were made aware she was pregnant with their child. They both were excited over the idea of having a child. Azazel, who had been heavy into drinking and staying out late at night, do to unresolved trauma he was keeping to himself, told himself at this time that he was going to have to cut back on these habits. He even considered leaving the gang, but quickly dismissed this notion, finding it too valuable and enjoyable to leave. But he still found that starting a family would be in conflict with the dangers of being in a gang. Especially when he was in such an important position. However, he decided to not think about it, as it was distressing. Then kept putting it off, over and over again. Till it was time for the baby to be born. Just on time, his girlfriend woke him early one morning to tell him it was time and he grabbed her bag she had pre-prepared, helping her to the car. Driving her to the hospital. Everything looked to be going well. Azazel was with her when she brought their son into the world. But all too quickly, things went sour. While holding their son, he had seen how happy she was, before suddenly the color was leaving her face. The baby was taken away. He was healthy. But then, everything started to get hectic after that. He was rushed out of the room without saying much, except that his girlfriend was bleeding out.

Hours passed, his family was with him, his father or mother asking on his behalf what was happening during these times, when he didn't. It was during the night, when he was told that his girlfriend had died from blood loss. Angry, Azazel lashed out, demanding to know what could have happened. Only to be told 'It just happened' and 'We did everything we could'. His mother came to hold him, to stop him from getting more upset, and potentially hurting someone, which wasn't even on his mind at the moment. Despite his anger, he knew he had plenty of other things to take care of than spend any effort going to prison, for whatever he could have done, that night. Not an hour later, he was told he could visit his son. He wasted no time in doing so. Entering the room, he saw the baby, squirming a bit in his blanket he was wrapped in. Hesitating, he made his way over and reached over, cooing down at his son before gently brushing a finger along his red-stained face. It was just them, and it hurt so much to think of it like that. Just the two of them, now. Suddenly he remembered the conversation he and his girlfriend had on what to name the baby.

"What about Mapplethorpe?" "What? That names going to get him bullied. We can't name our baby Mapplethorpe." "Oh come on, AZ-a-zell, Mapplethorpe is totally a cute name!" "No! I'd rather name him James. At least it's boring."

He realized that he could hear her voice still, now. But soon enough, he wouldn't even remember it. Taking a seat next to the baby, he sighed, resigning to name their son Mapplethorpe, for her. Already regretting it, but knew he had to. At least his middle name would be James, he decided.

After being allowed to come home, Azazel brought Mapplethorpe home to Stargazer Villa, and the two spent the following six years without any major incident. A few pets and what felt like a lifetime later, Mapplethorpe and Azazel had carved quite a life for themselves. Azazel never left the gang, under his watchful eye when the two did come into contact. As things started to get more serious, Azazel would leave Mapplethorpe with his siblings, explaining he had to do stuff for his day job as a biotechnologist, and he figured the other would have been better off enjoying the company of his cousins. Though he had no clue how dangerous things had truly gotten till it was literally right on top of him. A day after dropping his son off on one such visit to one of his siblings, his memories just stop, and start not making much sense.

Then, suddenly, he is waking up. The dark star filled sky over him, the moon seeming fuller and bigger than it usually did on this day. Or maybe it was just in his head, honestly. He was lying somewhere, in the middle of nowhere, it seemed. He felt numb at first, as if his brain wasn't readily acknowledging…whatever happened. Taking in a deep breath, though, something snapped. Something inside of him was broken, or wrong, or- well, he couldn't really explain it, himself. But before he could stop himself, he was screaming like a banshee out there in what seemed to be the middle of nowhere. Thrashing against the ground, tears building in his eyes, before spilling out. Twisting his body, arching his back, he screamed before grabbing his head as all these emotions had suddenly crushed down on him. He swore he could hear barking, howling in the area around him. Wolves, or coyotes, maybe. He didn't have the brainpower to decide which one was more concerning at that moment. As this compulsion washed over him. Then suddenly, after some minutes, it stopped. He was numb again, curled up into a ball, his arms wrapped around his head. Now shaved down to a buzzcut. He had to think, he had to control himself. He told himself. Though the lack of memories, yet all these devastating emotions that washed over him, made doing so hard for him.

He felt extremely weak, especially after that uncharacteristic fit he just had. He didn't really register them as his, as he could not remember in that moment, just why he was feeling them. Pushing himself up took several tries. He felt just too weak at first. When he would get up just enough, he would collapse again, needing to rest for a few minutes. It was cold out here, but that was the last thing he was worried about. But what wasn't he worried about at the moment? He felt confused and lost about a lot of things. A million questions flooded his mind. But he couldn't even begin to answer them in this place, this nowhere he woke up in. He had to get home. He made that his first goal. Attempting to stand again, he managed to do it this time, though it took a few steps, holding a hand to his gut, before stumbling and falling to his knees. Catching himself with his free hand, he prevented himself from collapsing to the ground entirely. Something was very wrong, that was the issue, and he didn't know if he could get over it, and survive out here. Lifting his head, he looked around, at first only seeing absolute darkness aside from the little light the moon and stars in the clear sky provided him. It was no use in the desert brush that surrounded him.

But he continued to try, regardless of his weakened state. Even when he started to feel downright sick and ready to give up, he persisted, making his way to the lights in the distance. That he knew was one indicator of humanity. All he needed to do was get there. Though in the hours it took to get himself there, he stumbled, crawled, and dragged himself there. He recognized he hadn't even been far from home. Slouching against a building, he assessed, exhausted, his situation. Maybe, he told himself, if he just slept, everything would be better after that. Azazel pushed himself forward, trying to remember the way home from where he was. His clothes were in tatters, and filthy. Which seemed to bring him some attention, well, the way he looked, period, seemed to garner some attention from people leaving businesses that were still open at this hour, like bars. Azazel hadn't even registered these people, just focusing on keeping himself upright. Eventually, as the sun was looking as if it might rise soon, he came onto his street. Walking up to his house, he saw some yellow tape. Reaching out, he angrily ripped it off his door and tossed it out behind him, it getting caught in the wind. Then it got caught on a corner. Reaching into his pocket he hoped to find his key, only to find nothing. Great. Reaching up, he toyed with a part of the house that soon came loose, a key dropping out onto the stoop. With agonizing difficulty, Azazel knelt down to grab the key and stuck it in the door

Once inside, he realized why tape was on the door, seeing a significant amount of blood, he guessed that people thought he was dead or something, with how much blood stains still dotted the house. But he didn't have time to think about that. He was just set on sleeping. Not even thinking how things remained as they were, nothing was out of place, the blood didn't reach passed the entrance. Though as he moved to climb into his bed, he noticed how everything seemed to have some layer of dust on it. He told himself, once he had a decent night's sleep, he could figure out everything else that was going on. His mind just needed to rest before it could connect all the indefinite pieces that kept popping up in his head, sparking more bursts of overwhelming emotions. Unfortunately, days later, no amount of sleep resolved much, if any of it. But what did come to mind, he knew he had to keep to himself, along with the strange illness that he came home with, an absolute secret, even though it exacerbated his mental health along with it. He had to get used to when he needed to make his exits in efforts to keep his secrets. Once he had a few days to himself to get used to this new state of life, he revealed himself to well, not be dead, and back from wherever it is he even went.

With the questions from several directions mostly being about where he was, what happened, and the like, he refused to answer them. Quickly making exits wherever possible to go do something else of seeming importance. When it came to Mapplethorpe, he told the sibling primarily taking care of him at the moment to keep his son for the time being. Not sure it was safe, and still not sure if he was dangerous, with his sudden state of mind, and the illness making it worse, it seems he thought it would be better. Though he did let his sibling visit him with his son occasionally since coming back. What bothers him most, however, since coming back was his welcome back to regular mafia activity, putting on a strong front, he laughed off questions about where he was, what he had been doing all that time, and all of that. Not really ever giving a definitive answer, but played off his absence well enough. Or at least he hoped, but the whispers, the rumors buzzing from the housekeeping at the head of the family's home really would become a problem, one he had to make sure didn't get too out of control, one way or another. Even if it meant spilling blood on the carpet.

Self-Para's

Notable events/milestones: TBD. Accomplishments: TBD. Memories: TBD. Criminal record: Failure to appear/loitering. Affiliations: Mafia, Consigliere of the VITELLI FAMILY. Skeletons in the closet: TBD.

Relationships

Grandparents: Unknown Parents: Sharada Hawthorn (Chaudhari)(Mother)(Alive), D'Arcy Hawthorn (Father)(Alive). Sisters or brothers: 4 Older siblings. Wife or husband: None Children: A son. Currently living with one of Azazel's siblings since he's been missing. Other important persons: The devil may care(X)/The close encounter(RIKA HOSHINO)/The cracked jewel (X)/The malingering sloth (KINERET VITELLI)/The bad omen (SALEM JUNG)/The tiger shark (X) Partner(s)/Significant other(s): Daniel Spanou, Jazmín Ostrowski, Robertina Felipe , Zdislava Gómez, Hèctor Franklin, Gray Szabolcsi, Atousa Schultheiss, Vladimira Karimi, Renza Paulsen, Ambrose Grabowska, The tiger shark (X). Lover(s): Viliam Sheenan, Petro Sugita, Tancrède Temitope, Jacinth Shiraishi, Flavius Vaughan, Rehema Ölvirsson, Zaki Jahodová. Parents/Guardians: Best friends: Víkingr Gill, Adélard Kurz, Azra Krastiņa, Varuna Caivano. Friends: Kelley Calabrese, Gláucio Pál, Ismaël Abdullah, Adewale Abeln, Lina Pain, Conn Abdullayeva, Yaara Quirk, Simon Kovac, Jamshed Urano, Isapo-Muxika Sheedy, Guwisti Dalton, Inga Lukáč, Manius Kocsis, Andre Šarić, Zoe Yonker, Édouard Tsvetanov, Anah Giménez, Fernão Pugliese, Beata Warren, Dálach Linden, Dipaka Van Houten, Helmut Abdullayev, Raju Banerjee, Oghenero Zheng, Zoriana Mac Ruaidhrí, Maja Jacobse. Rivals: Marusya Babić, Hilding Ionescu, Oona Alvey, Zedong Oberst, Sébastienne Sydykova, Lorena Mlynáriková, Vancho Suess, Lisha Rutgers. Enemies: Helvius Davis, Tomiko Gold, Johannes Mägi, Younes O'Connor, Röstäm Klementová, Katrina Jiang. Colleagues: Mentors/Teachers: Raül Musil, Tam Cummings, Lamech Reece, Bodil Mulligan, Dalibor Westbrook, Nadir Antall, Miriana Roman, Erik Watts, Ferdi Andrysiak, Selig Shaughnessy. Idols/Role models: Socrates, Cesare Beccaria, Plato, Lao Tzu, Hypatia, Jacques Derrida, Jacques Lacan, Voltaire, Max Scheler, John Stuart Mill, Babe Ruth, Denzel Washington, Neil Armstrong, Carl Sagan, Chris Rock, Theodore Roosevelt, Abraham Lincoln, Nostradamus, Angelina Jolie, Noah (Ark), Ernest Hemingway, Michael Jordan, Robin Williams, Pablo Picasso, Charles Darwin, Robert Downey Jr, Galileo Galilei, Albert Einstein, Aristotle, Amelia Earhart, Alexander the Great, Harry Houdini, Bruce Lee, C. S. Lewis, Nikola Tesla, Leonardo da Vinci, Unatural things: TBD.

Physical Characteristics

Addictions: Alcohol Bad Habits:

Seems to "zone out" when music is playing Taps fingers on surfaces Biting fingernails Overthinking Popping/snapping bubble gum in public Pacing Maintains intense eye contact Shows up unannounced

Color of Eyes: Deep Dark Brown. The color of Hair: Dark Brown. Type of hair: When not tamed with product or such, his hair can be curly. 3b type. It's pretty thick and usually appears styled/gelled/other, Or soft when left in a cleaned natural state. Hairstyle: Used to have hair long, very long, almost has never had his hair cut his entire life. Will fight tooth and nail if someone tries. More because he doesn't like to be touched, and such. So his hair has just grown to be incredibly long, and with that, he spends a lot of time working on keeping it out of his way, and the way of others. Examples. Upon his return from his assumed death, it is cut much shorter, initially a buzzcut when he came back, now a little longer. The color of Skin: Cold Golden Brown. That's now a lot paler. Fashion style: Prefers wearing elegant clothing, practical clothing, and respectable clothing. All with cool colors, winter colors, or light colors. Often wearing hats, scarves, gloves, belts, and some jewelry. Favorite outfits: Here. Accessories: A book, A pocket watch, A whistle, A bookmark, a Bottle of pills, a Chain, A Fork, A Harmonica, Pistol, A bottle of glue, an Umbrella, Silencer, a Skateboard, a Kitchen knife, Handheld game systems, a Laptop, Journal, all in his backpack interchangeably. Cleanliness/Grooming: He is often good at keeping up his hygienic habits but can be messy. Posture/Gait: Takes a knee when he kneels, Sleeps/rests in the fetal position, When he crouches he squats fully, Stands with arms akimbo, that is with hands on hips, elbows pointing outward. Coordination (or lack thereof): Most of the time he has excellent coordination. But not all of the time. Does the character drink regularly? Yes. Does the character have any disabilities/conditions? Yes

Asthma [mild persistent] ADHD [impulsive/hyperactive type] Sleepwalking Undiagnosed illness Paranoia Generally Low Tolerance for everything Dissociative Amnesia CPTSD Misophonia Anemia Narcolepsy

Does the character smoke? Yes. Good Habits:

Can literally fall asleep anywhere Strong convictions Thrives in hot weather, hates cold weather Prone to singing, whistling, or humming quietly Brutally honest in most conversations Likes to file their fingernails to sharp points because it makes them feel more dangerous Fantastic chef, but hates to cook Wears long sleeves with thumb holes to cover the lower part of the palm Loves to walk in the rain Restless/constantly needing to move/fidget [Dispersing energy]

Height: 5'10” Weight: 137 Body type: Lean/Toned. Fitness level: Intermediate Tattoos: Has five tattoos. Scars/Birthmarks: Has eight scars. Has eighteen birthmarks that look more like freckles, dotted across his body. Hobbies:

Woodworking Metalworking Learning Crafting Gardening/other Coloring Astronomy Antiquing Mathematics Experimenting Parkour Chess Painting Playing board/tabletop games

Is he/she wearing glasses? No. Is the character healthy or does he have any diseases? No. What’s the style of the character? (modern, outmoded): Practical and elegant.

Mental Characteristics

Education: Attended University. IQ: 180. Skills/talents: Hiding, Palm objects, Giving advice, Nature lore, Climbing, Personal productivity. Fears: Abandonment/Loss of identity. Optimist or pessimist?: Pessimist. Daredevil or cautious?: A bit of both, given a situation, more so a daredevil, however. Logical or emotional?: Logical. Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat?: Probably a disordered, yet methodical and clean mess. Prefers working or relaxing?: Relaxing. Confident or unsure of himself/herself?: Confident. Animal lover?: Yes. Self-perception: That he is an omen of bad luck or something like that.. Assumed external perception: Winning. Self-Confidence: Strong. Rational Or Emotional: Rational. Personality traits: Eccentric/Brutal/Ambitious/Dependable/Principled/Deceitful/Impersonal/Complex/Secretive/Charming/Tense/Compassionate/Precise/Well-read/Chummy/Honorable/Distractable/Surprising/Casual/Steely/Crafty/Aloof Personality type: INTJ. Enneagram: 8w7. Character archetype: Ruler. Zodiac: Scorpio. Moral Alignment: True Neutral most of the time, but will to jump alignments from Good to evil, given what the situations call for. Temperament: Phlegmatic. Animal Types: Owl Aura: Honeysuckle Chakra: Third Eye (Imbalanced) Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw. Patronus: Great Grey Owl, Bat or Buzzard. Ilvermorny House: Horned Serpent. Introvert/Extrovert: Introvert. Holland Code: ICA: Investigative, Conventional, Artistic. Morals/Virtues: Chastity, Patience. Sins/Vices: Sloth, Gluttony. Dark Triad: Machiavellian-ism. Elemental: Fire (Electricity) or Air. Avatar Element: Earth. Divergent: Erudite. Loves: Clutter, Horror movies, Trips, Toys, Running, Animals, Puzzles, Spicy food, Art, Fall, Organizing, Blue, Rugby, Meditation. Angered by/Pet peeves: Humming, Over apologizing, Telemarketers, Line cutters. Obsessed with: Zoomania, Methomania, Ergasiomania, Klopemania, Technomania, Bibliomania, Infomania. More Secrets: Makes up stories since he thinks he's boring. Shot someone. Regrets: His seemingly stubborn and odd behavior made other children avoid him when he was growing up. Feeling like he's missing out. Unknowingly helped a friend do something that hurt other people, finding out afterward. Not accepting being friends with someone who would have had a better impact on his life as he grew up. Wrote a best-selling novel, that was stolen and put under another person's name. Not liking some foods. One of his musician friends invited him to join their band, but he left the opportunity because of a trivial matter he had with himself. Preferred communication methods: Listening and visual communication. Style and pacing of speech: Casual style, pace is normal, understandable when not excited. He pauses a little more than regularly to think. Pitch: His pitch can be low-mid to mid-high. Laughter: Pigeon laughter. Smile: Warm smile. Use of gestures: Nodding, Shaka sign, Manipulator gestures, and Iconic gestures. Facial expressions: Ecstatic, Pitying, Impassive, Stolid, Sanguine, Vacant, Scornful, Glancing, Straight-faced, Chagrined, Cheeky, Hopeless, Bleak, Blinking, Wry, Wary, Bilious, Somber, Tight, Glaring, Darkly. Verbal expressions: Bloviation, Mutterings, Utterances, Whispering, Talking through.

Emotional Characteristics

How does the character cope with fury and rage? Probably go and work on one of his interests. Or he may just argue/fight the person who put him in this state of mind. … with unhappiness? Certainly, go away to focus on a project/interest till he feels better. … with rivalry? Ignore them. Or Antagonize them. … with new situations? They are fine. … with trouble? Handle it. What’s his or her meaning of life? Hasn't decided yet. What makes this character happy? Be able to do his hobbies or invest in his interests. Is the character often biased? Here and there. Probably. Depends on that topic. Does the character prefer to give or to take? He leans more toward giving. But he's not ashamed of just taking, either. Character Questions

Here

Narrowing his eyes on the other as she excused her waking him up, Azazel clicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth and then closed his eyes again, adjusting his head on his backpack as he did. Not going back to sleep, that was done with now. Though the sight of seeing someone adorned with cat ears, drawn on whiskers, and a bit of red on her lip was, in thought, amusing, he would tell himself. But as she went on, questioning about vampires, his eyes shot back open.

Sitting up then, he looked at her, then, “You've got red on you.” It was what he said at first before turning his head away, squinting out into the crowd. Lifting his left hand up, he unhooked the sunglasses hanging off his shirt and deftly moved to put them on as he put some time between his comment before answering the vampire question. Azazel pressed the middle finger of his right hand against the nose piece of the glasses, then leaned back in his seat, “I guess, maybe, for you. That it might be. I'm not so sure, for me. Maybe I'm being self-destructive.”

He grinned, then, turning his head back toward her, now ready to reply to what she said about blood suckers, generally vampires. Despite the fact that his skin crawled, he knew they weren't real. But there was something, something swarming inside him, denying this belief in him. Azazel then looked up and, as casually as he was sitting, he spoke, “Vampires aren't real. So unless a big fucking mosquito is making it's rounds in this crowd, or probably a vampire bat-” Pausing, he knocked is head to one side. Though vampire bats weren't technically known to actually suck blood, if he were remembering his studies correctly, “Most I gotta fear there is a bad case of rabies, though, not blood loss.”

WHILE THE ONGOING EVENT HAD CERTAINLY CAUGHT HER INTEREST as she couldn't recall the French countryside she grew up on ever holding one that seemed comparable to a mid-spring horror fest, Simone was partially annoyed that she was forced to wander through crowds that her uppity social standing usually had her avoiding as the places she frequented happened to be expensive just to stand in most of the time. Her clients were not the type to plan an entire trip to Vegas for an event that felt partially reminiscent of Halloween, thus, she had no real reason to peruse around except for her own curiosity as the foreign born had clearly never once celebrated the spooky holiday herself as a child. The simple cat ears on her head and whiskers drawn on to her face atop rosy blush was not melting under the Vegas sun thanks to expensive makeup it was etched on with, but the same sadly couldn't be said for the cookie of a fanged mouth, as the red icing that represented blood was threatening to melt off and onto her hands, much to the travel agent's dismay as she rushed to take a seat on a bench and pull some tissues out of her bag. "Ah, then I do not need to apologize for waking you if you were only resting. I would think it impossible to fall asleep with everything appearing so fantasmagorique. You are not fearful of those that suck blood?" A smile crossed her face, as if amused with her own question.

TWIN PEAKS | 1.06

Avan Jogia photographed by Raul Romo for Grumpy Spring 2023