Rameel

Soft-Sheep

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Created
6 years, 24 days ago
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5

Profile


Rameel


  • Name Rameel ...
  • Age Unknown (Physically 28)
  • Gender None | They/He
  • Orientation Bisexual, Male Leaning
  • Occupation Angel Hunter
  • They are able to see Demons and Angels, even when they're "hiding", but doesnt bring attention to them unless needed.
  • He has a shadow creature following them, dictating a lot of what he does.
  • When he wears the mask, the creature possesses him entirely.
  • The necklace is what keeps them in the mortal realm with a physical body.

Rameel used to be a normal man. He was a lowlife; gambling, cheating and drinking his life away. He began to dabble in the occult and soon found his way to hell. Whether he died or he dipped too far into the spirit realm, Rameel doesn't remember. All he knows is he came face to face with the Devil, and he struck a pretty fine deal with him.
Rameel gets to live for eternity on earth, enjoying all the pleasures that Earth has to offer, but he has to share his soul with a lesser shadow demon and take up a higher (well, "lower") calling. Hunt angels. Shoot them out of the sky, rip their wings off, send them tumbling to the pits of hell. It's a dirty, blasphemous job, but he loves every moment of his new found life. Anything to keep the Father In Hell happy.

Charisma
Confidence
Creativity
Intelligence
Empathy
Maturity

Background


Back when he was human, when the world was a lot less complex and life’s simplest pleasures were enough to make him happy, Rameel hadn’t been a good person. His moral compass was more of a roulette wheel, and even then, most of the time, a hundred percent of the options were, to put it nicely, quite unsound.

His trifecta of hobbies were much the same everyday: gambling, cheating, and drinking. Rameel hadn’t really known to do anything else, this was what he grew up with, this was what he knew. Why mess with a good thing, right?

Of course, his questionable lifestyle aside, Rameel did, indeed, mess with a lot of other things, some that cannot be mentioned, whether if it is for fear of finally getting arrested, or because he was simply so drunk that he could not remember what he did, no one will ever know.

A myriad of barely legal pastimes led him into something a little more serious, something that would have more lasting consequences than alcoholism or petty theft, or even scamming innocent passersby on the street.

The occult isn’t something you play with, it isn’t something that one would accidentally stumble upon, no matter how clumsy they were. People who fall into the habit of dabbling in the occult do so out of their own choice, maybe a desire to be more powerful, or a desperate need to push through the veil of their mortal life, no matter the reason, there are no accidents when it comes to Hell.

Or, at least, that’s what Rameel likes to think, because here he is, with no recollection of how Hell became the destination of one of his many drunken forays into the the world of the occult.

No one knows, least of all himself, whether he’d gone just one step too far, disappearing from the mortal realm entirely, or forsook his body for the spiritual plane, but what Rameel does know is that there’s no going back.

Not that he would ever want to go back, it’s quite nice down here, and he’s managed to strike up a pretty fair deal with the Devil. One might even go so far as to say it’s a good deal, but Rameel knows better than to claim anything of that sort. Hell isn’t a place for fairness and justice, everyone knows that.

Even so, Rameel thinks he got out of that sticky situation pretty alright. He gets an eternity on earth to do whatever he pleases, and the only thing the Devil wants in return is the broken, battered bodies of whatever angels he can find. Send them down, he’d said, I don’t care how.

And oh, Rameel’s roulette wheel of a moral compass could definitely do that.

Now, his pastimes are less drinking and cheating, and more stalking heavenly beings and ripping the wings from their back, shooting them out of the sky with nothing but a well-aimed bullet, pure determination and his shiny new gun, God’s Mercy.

An ironic, ill-fitting name, though it does make him laugh, sometimes, when he thinks about it.

Along with the new lease on life, and the revolver, Rameel had also gotten a necklace. It gives him a physical form, anchoring him to the mortal realm so he can actually pick up a pint of beer, or a hand of cards, or money from someone’s pocket. Any one of those things, really, would make him happy.

Of course, this new and exciting lifestyle had come with a catch, because when has anything ever not? He has to share his soul with a lesser demon, a shadow creature that follows him around, barking orders that Rameel follows only because most of the time, he actually wants to do whatever the demon is asking him to, and it’s so easy to pretend that someone else is in charge, because then if something goes wrong, it’s not his fault.

With glowing pink eyes, and a shock of purple hair, Rameel already looks like he’s not quite human, but when he puts his mask on, it’s an entirely different story. When he puts the mask on, he’s not really Rameel anymore, even though his body doesn’t change, everything else certainly does.

It’s, for lack of a better word, something of a possession, and when the mask is fully on, Rameel disappears, leaving the shadow demon behind, a mortal body with an immortal mind.

It’s not that bad, especially when it gets the job done, and Rameel is used to not being able to remember certain snatches of time within his life. As an Angel Hunter, he’s got a dirty, blasphemous task, a sinful one, but he loves it, every moment that it awards him, every angel that he gets to desecrate, it makes the Father in Hell happy, and that’s more than enough for him.



Bio by Aces