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Esra Ozkan | Demon (leviathan) | unknown years | owner of pandemonium | loyalty: the circle | Hazal Filiz Kucukkose
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A private roleplay blog associated with descentintohellhq inked by B.
Esra Ozkan | Demon (leviathan) | unknown years | owner of pandemonium | loyalty: the circle | Hazal Filiz Kucukkose

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𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝗋 ›› @startyourdescent, cafe
they put the mug down onto the table between them as their hands dropped to the inside of their hoodie, the soft snuffles of the elderly chihuahua coming a second later. " there's an event in town at one of the museums coming up. not the met, it's at moma. they're going to do a rendition of all the artists in the age of romanticism for valentine's day. supposed to have food, drinks, food . . . i'm thinking about going. want to come? " art held their attention for only a little while, but fancy finger food was sure to be a good time.
Esra stares for an uncomfortably long moment, uncertain if he was muttering to someone else, but surely enough, without a response to follow the demon shrugs her shoulder, "That is by far the least enticing invitation I've heard in quite some time," a deep breath helps her carry the menial tight lipped smile, "but, it sounds like the perfect place for a little chaos." opportunity was all esra ever needed, and she wasn't about to slam the door on a perfectly good one at that.
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status : open location : pandemonium
the nightclub is not exactly emilia's usual scene, so would anyone be surprised to find her outside of it, tangled in a more or less meaningful conversation with a stolen bottle of wine? the unseelie feels the vibrations of the bass, even now, and she cannot help but wonder why she agreed to come to pandemonium of all places. ❛ what is it that you like about this club? ❜ she wonders, blissfully unaware of whether or not she interrupted @startyourdescent. ❛ you don't strike me as someone who truly enjoys raves. ❜ but perhaps she's mistaking. perhaps she needs to pay closer attention.
the black orb dissolves beyond existence, the demon stepping into the alleyway with little care for what lay within it - nor whom. Were she lucky enough, before asmodeus had set a rather blinding light upon demons alike, she might have taken whatever poor soul lingered into her maw and strike a chord of chaos alight. but now? now she looked upon the seelie - better she spend her time maneuvering the members of the circle into position that might further serve her - than ending the creatures life here and now. pity. snagging the bottle of wine, esra helps herself to a mouthful before turning on the toe of her boot and planting herself next to the other. Oh, the irony. "So, exactly what kind of person do I strike you as?"

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"When have I ever asked anything of you, Cosi?" a feigned innocence that bleeds corruption beneath sullen hues. while nevernight offered just as much fun as any other; esra couldn't help but compare it with the undulating chaos of pandemonium. it lacked the... - divine ichor that made her skin crawl, "At least.. since the last time I asked..." And she had, many times. Once. When worlds seemed to align in ways they perhaps didn't anymore. "Can't I stop by? We can giggle, gossip -- braid each others hair, sacrifice a few Nephilim."
❛ do you really want me to answer that? ❜ he cannot help but smirk at the feigned innocence ⸻ she could try way harder than that and cosimo still wouldn't believe her. ❛ it has been a while, i will give you that. ❜ yet, the question remains. there must be something she wants, even if said something is as simple as company. ❛ is that why you are here? by all means, ask me to braid your hair. ❜ amusement spreads across the devil's features, at least until he pretends to be shocked by her last suggestion. ❛ isn't that against the law? ❜ the same law that has never been enough to reign in creatures like them.
"Actually," she breathes the word in as she inhales the amber liquid in the bottom of her glass, "please do - i'd love to know which one comes to mind..." did he hold any of it over her head? did she care? the haphazard wave of her hand flickers like the hands of time have, "time and fondness or whatever it is they say, i couldn't live with myself going another day without seeing you." the thick hide like sarcasm that coats her words are like tar - flame and poison, and yet - who better than he to meet her in the middle. "well, get to it," fingers drag through dark tresses, "you should be a pro at that by now, right? how exactly is fatherhood treating you after all this time?" hues roll into the back of her skull, the droll look she casts across remains as much a facade as everything else; the folly of laws and rules. "blah, blah - you tell me, i forgot to burn them into the underside of my eyelids or whatever.."
@sunbeam-d / brandon location: cemetary
the crunch of bone settles beneath her boot and shoots warmth up into her limb - echoing off the surrounding headstones like lightning. it was well beyond esra to allow some kind of admittance to arise from her lips but stumbling upon this particular witch was no longer simply coincidence. the black orb snaps closed behind her, the continued use of portals in this world is certainly convenient, and the finality of the silence clinging to skeletal tree limbs feels like a welcome home from purgatory itself. "oops," skull of a raven; crushed to dust besides his little ritual site. "that wasn't your, was it?" she wears smugness like a second skin - and then throws an extra coat on for good measure, the toe of her boot covered in the white powder of crushed bone tipping the goblet over as she shifts - perches upon the edge of the gravestone as if it were a throne built for her. "You're making a habit out of this."
# 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛 , within the city @startyourdescent.
the nephilim sits on a weathered bench by the east river, the city lights shimmering across the dark water like scattered stars. her hands curl around her coat, gaze fixed on the horizon where the first hint of dawn rises ⸻ the pale glow of the morning star catching her attention. but the quiet is ruined when a shadow falls, someone leaning too close, too casually. aurora's eyes flick up, sharp as she regards the other. ❛ you're blocking my starlight. ❜
the first wink of daylight kisses its promise upon the horizon, and esra feels the boring weight of daylight once again. its a non-issue, to her - however she knows the city likes to lie beneath the watchful eye of the sun and the divinity within. Theres no mistaking the distaste that solidifies the scoff in her throat. The night felt so young - through perhaps finding this particular Nephilim would offer a little something else in the waking bliss of morning. "And?" demonic in nature well before the first of them sucked in the sulfur of hell "It's awfully garish," the crease upon her nose becomes evident as she glances up towards the sky. "you look far too old to be wishing on stars."
status : open location : nevernight
the devil's nightclub could easily result in sensory overload. the air is thick with perfume and secrets, the music loud, the wine too sweet to resist. cosimo leans back against the wall, amusement evident on his features as he watches it all unravel exactly as planned. it would be entertaining enough to stay like this for a while, to observe and gather information, but life seems to have different plans. mismatched eyes find @startyourdescent's as they approach and he tilts his head in potentially feigned curiosity. ❛ and what can i do for you tonight? ❜
"When have I ever asked anything of you, Cosi?" a feigned innocence that bleeds corruption beneath sullen hues. while nevernight offered just as much fun as any other; esra couldn't help but compare it with the undulating chaos of pandemonium. it lacked the... - divine ichor that made her skin crawl, "At least.. since the last time I asked..." And she had, many times. Once. When worlds seemed to align in ways they perhaps didn't anymore. "Can't I stop by? We can giggle, gossip -- braid each others hair, sacrifice a few Nephilim."
open starter / @ dog eared, mid afternoon, @startyourdescent
he'd been listening for the better part of an hour, nodding along to one of his patron's enthusiastic retelling of a book that he'd recommended to them. teddy's attention had started to drift, though, nodding intermittently. their enthusiasm was infectious enough that he didn't quite have the heart to stop them, but as a person opened the door and the bell jingled signaling their arrival, his smile grew a little bit wider. " i'm sorry, i have to help them. we can talk more about it tomorrow, same time, " voices before there could be any push back. " welcome in. can i help you with anything ? "
she blundered in as a literal bat out of hell, having spent the better part of the afternoon looking for the nook of an establishment. following the possession of a rather desperate and sad woman, esra had found her taste for the little pastries she'd found stashed in her handbag. "yes, you.." hues flickered throughout the room, "how.. - quaint." mundane, the concept, undoubtedly - the one questioning her however... Esra's head tilts as she considers him, a slow few moments ticking over before her thoughts wander back. "those little pistachio and lemon pastries. my... - friend, got me hooked on them. i believe this is the place she said.."

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open starter / @ one of the bars, late evening, @startyourdescent
her lips twisted from the first sip of her drink through the straw, the second a confirmation of what she'd figured out. " excuse me. i asked for a hugo spritz. this is aperol. " the confused look she was met with further showing that her flitting through new york to places she'd either only visitied once before or not at all wasn't worth the trouble. " do you like proescco ? " selene asks the nearby person, sliding the drink carefully over towards them. " it's already paid for. it can be put into a different cup. "
"a different cup?" angular features shift into something close to amusement, as if selene had wasted breath on the offer in the first. "after all this time, i've yet to find anything i particularly like, but aperol will do." it wasn't all that often that esra made much of an effort to intentionally mingle with other demons - or even the mother; she found that so many had either retained or become twisted into feeling something for their earthly realm and all those upon it, but she wasn't a total recluse. "but we both know i've certainly put worse in my mouth," the corner of her lips twitches as the straw slips between them, "figuratively speaking, of course.."
status : open location : central park
amir has chosen his route carefully. the city that never sleeps tends to be too loud for him, too bright. central park, however, offers some darkness after nightfall ⸻ a reprieve from the endless buzzing of new york's life by day and by night. he walks somewhere secluded, footsteps calm and steady until he notices a second pair. it would evoke nervousness in some, but what a fool would attack a vampire? ❛ if you are going to follow me... ❜ he begins instead, tone teasing. ❛ you may as well walk beside me. ❜ a tease and an offer, one that @startyourdescent is welcome to take.
she doesn't think twice about the darkness ; she survived far worse, and the abyss has once been hers, and hers alone. shadows that dance do little more than conjure delight with each step and with each footfall that clicks barely in time with that of the man before her. what creature could garner fear the likes the leviathan has never seen before? a quiet breath of laughter crawls from her throat as she does exactly as he suggests; the woman sidling up besides the vampire with the practiced subtlety of a serpent, "you continue to ruin my fun, amir," a statement caught in the curvature of a mocking pout. "destroyer of the mysterious and enigmatic.. it is rather exhausting."
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my love is an animal call, cutting through the darkness, bouncing off the walls, between teeth on a broken jaw, following a blood trail, frothing at the maw, these days I'm a circuit board, integrated hardware you cannot afford, the perfect start to a perfect war, putting down the roses, picking up the sword
𝐈 , application .
esra ozkan has emerged in the shadow world. the demon is built on the bones of shattered stained glass windows, blood frozen in snow, and the snap of finality with the last breathe of life. behind closed doors, whispers insist their allegiance belongs to the circle. only time will tell where their loyalties really lie, but one thing is certain : the descent into hell will be easy for the hound of hell.

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