Darwin Asrani is a 28-years-old human (spellcaster) demon wrangler who bears a passing resemblance to Dev Patel. Once the heir to the Asrani family, Darwin's bonds were broken when he found out the truth about their business and was subsequently betrayed by his own father. With the demon Bertrand by his side, Darwin has finally arrived in White Crest to continue correcting the mistakes of his past, this one going by the name Zorp.
shoot your shot.
what scares you? running out of wine. really? what else is there? you must be fearless then. nope, just bored.
face your demons.
ah yes, i understand i’m not what you anticipated? i know, everyone expects demonic experts to be a bit more… evil. if you’d like i could twirl my mustache and cackle a bit, just to set the mood perhaps?
darwin asrani, 28. spellcaster. demon wrangler.
darwin asrani. demon wrangler.
many magical talents are inherited. the asrani family had been known for their gifts with mental magic. of course, that was largely because half the family were quite good at keeping their abilities under wraps. people didn’t take kindly to those that messed with demonic forces. it didn’t matter to them if the demons were as harmless as kittens. to most common folk a demon was a demon was a demon. they didn’t understand the complexity of the term and that it could refer to a wide variety of things. however, some people were let in on the secret on a need to know basis. usually those that needed to know were paying quite a pretty penny for whatever they were getting out of the deal.
like his grandfather, darwin had a gift for summoning demons. his powers had manifested early, and he had often been found playing with tiny, mouse sized demons when he was left to his own devices. perhaps that was where the trouble started. it wasn’t often that he was allowed out from under his father’s thumb, but whenever he was, he was exploring his powers on his own. he knew that his family dealt with demons regularly, but it wasn’t until he was a teenager that he discovered just what they were doing with them.
he stumbled onto the summoning quite by accident, but he never forgot it. that thing that his grandfather had been calling was nothing like the cute little demons he had named and grown fond of. it was a monster, but not because it wanted to be. the summoning itself was doing that. whatever the demon had been before, its will was being forced down, suppressed and changed by his father. they were twisting it to do their client’s bidding he was told later. that didn’t make it right. maybe it wasn’t human, but it was still alive, it still had a mind of its own. darwin voiced his protests, but was quickly silenced and assured that it wasn’t as bad as all that.
for years, darwin bit his tongue. his parents and grandparents had been doing this sort of thing for years. they knew what they were doing. not that telling himself that made him feel any less wrong about standing back and letting it all happen. he continued his studies, pushing his family’s dealings to the back of his mind. it was none of his concern, he kept telling himself. then, one day, his father approached and made it his concern. apparently his grandfather was ill, and it was unlikely he would live much longer, so now, it was up to darwin to take his place. naturally, he refused. turning a blind eye to the proceedings was one thing, participating was quite another. his father seemed to respect his decision and left him be.
two weeks later darwin woke up in a panic and found himself tied down, his father standing before him begging forgiveness. that was the last thing he saw before his father forced his way into his mind. darwin could feel what he was doing, the poking and prodding, trying to rewire him, to force his mind to change. it was only thanks to the studies he had done on mental magic that he managed to force his father out before any permanent damage was done. he conjured up his most loyal demon in an instant, so the creature could free him and help him flee and never look back. for too long he had let his family get away with all their plotting, it was time to put a stop to it.
character facts:
personality: intelligent, dramatic, charming, very fond of sarcasm, regretful, outgoing, honest, a bit vain
darwin feels hugely guilty for being passive and letting his family sell violent, bloodthirsty demons for years. he is now trying to seek out and round up the creatures that are still out there. his reason for coming to white crest is one of those very demons. it was requested by a small portion of the families opposed to the occult and it apparently goes by the name zorp.
he is gay and quite open about it now that he’s left his family behind. however, he is quite fond of flirting with anyone who will give him the time of day.
as much as he teases and jokes and sasses everyone, he’s just as likely to make jokes at his own expense. he likes to make it seem as though he’s quite self-centered, but he has no trouble mocking himself in the same breath.
though he objects to demons being used to hurt people, he doesn’t see the harm in keeping them around as companions or assistants. he has a little demon that he keeps with him at all times. the demon’s name is bertrand; it is quite fond of darwin and usually acts almost like a butler.
I have a work thing from February 10 to 24, 2021, that’ll keep me from checking in and writing replies, so I’m taking a HIATUS during these dates.
Feel free to end dash conversations around this time if you can’t wait for me to be back. No hard feelings. I understand. I’ll be gone for pretty much two weeks, so a lot of things could change by then. Do know, though, that if you don’t end them, I’ll most likely still reply when I return. xD
I’m going to miss you, guys, well, me, Darwin, and Bertrand, but we’ll most definitely be back! See you after two weeks! <3
So I’ve been told. Most people just call me Cari. Though I’m fine with whichever. But thank you. Fun is very important. Just like not taking ourselves too seriously. I’d be glad for the company. And the same goes for you. Most people aren’t quite so adventurous. Or so I’ve found. Have you and your friend always been so open to such things? Yes… Vorhees. And honestly, I have no idea. It very well could be. Or it could be someone has a dark sense of humor. Either way, definitely worth checking out I’d say.
When are you free?
∞
Cari, huh? That’s a pretty interesting name as well. Yes, we’ve always been open to such things and more. Vorhees isn’t quite as scary as most make him to be, just a man with a mask and a chainsaw. Or am I thinking of someone else? I’m usually free every weekend, though it’s not like I have anything special on weekdays as well. Still, Saturday night? My friend and I will be available then.
“I don’t know,” Damien confessed, “I’ve been calling her Jane Eyre, it was the first book I saw her strangling.” He knew this only addressed the surface of the question, beneath it asked where the blood came in. “Few weeks back I had a mean bloody nose. Got into a bit of a fight with some guy at the bar,” Damien doesn’t mention he started it. “I came in here to grab some napkins to soak it up. We had a crash encounter at the condiment stand and well, I guess stains are harder to work out in cashmere.” He shrugged indifferently, “been trying to get me banned from this place since.”
It was almost cruel how quickly Damien disregarded his cafe enemy but there was a far more intriguing subject before him that he did not want to let slip past. When Darwin admitted he had been targeted because he refused to step in line Damien felt a spark of interest ignite that proceeded to burn long after the topic had shifted to Jane Eyre. He wanted to know what kind of sheep his father had wanted him to become, wanted to know the bloody bits of the missing story.
Damien took a sip of his coffee, considering Darwin for a moment before he stretched his form over the small table and propped his chin in his palm. Intentionally, he had invaded Darwin’s space. He always did like finding out what made people flinch, for most, Damien’s rough demeanor was repelling enough, he emitted something wild and aggressive and spared no effort to change that. Curious, he wanted to see if Darwin would react. “I can only think of two things that would be motive enough for a father to kill his son,” a finger tapped against the table as he pondered it, “love or greed.” Damien let his words hang charged with a question he didn’t ask before adding, “either way, sounds like you have one hell of a friend.”
∞
Darwin made a face. “Jane Eyre? That’s not a bad name.” Definitely not the worst name to give an archenemy, someone you hate. The demon wrangler has received worse names, and even given worse, if that was even possible. He listened intently to Damien’s confession, interest mostly satiated and still very much impressed. So, he’s really a fighter… He took some time to discreetly look his new friend over again, well, as discreetly as he possibly can, checking him out from head to toe. …definitely a fighter. “Thank god, Jane Eyre doesn’t have a lot of pull with management.” He chuckled to himself, raising an eyebrow while keeping his hands warm with his cup.
“You always get in fights with guys at bars?” To Darwin, it could’ve gone either way, really. Damien looked handsome, cute, very attractive. He could’ve started a conversation with another man’s woman, terrible wording, yes, but drunk bar people could care less, and that infuriated the drunk boyfriend, so they fought. On the other hand, Damien could’ve started the fight. Maybe he was saving a woman from another’s unwanted advances. Damien could see him playing the role of the white knight, more grey than white to be honest. Everyone loves a bad boy, and speaking of which… Darwin’s eyebrow raised when Damien invaded his space, his lips twisting into a half-smile. Was this an invitation? He could only hope. All those adjectives regarding Damien’s looks weren’t objectively considered. “Well, hello!”
Then the assumption came, and truth be told, it irked Darwin for a bit. Not the actual theory posed by his most handsome escort, no. Rather, it was the memory of the familial betrayal. He did share that tidbit, after all, and Damien was most attractive, so Darwin couldn’t really hate him. Not now. Not yet. Darwin gritted his teeth, clenched his jaw, as the very thought of his father doing what he did being out of love. He could almost laugh. That bastard was definitely greedy as fuck. His whole family was. If he could, he would’ve already taken them out. Yet… “The things we do for love, hm?” He grinned again, though it was a weaker, more inferior version of his usual grins, especially in such company.
“One hell of a friend indeed. We could all do with friends, don’t you think so, Damien?” It was his turn to invade his space, and he did so, placing his own face mere inches from his, a playful smirk, a teasing eyebrow raised, all to see if Damien would flinch. Most men would. Damien, though, seemed like he’d be better than most men, at the very least, more interesting.
“As early as the sixteenth century, if I’m not mistaken,” Solomon answered coolly, looking between the two of them. “Though probably earlier than that, too. Couldn’t tell you when they stopped, though. Suppose it’s as good a place as any to get rid of someone.”
Tilting his head, it took Solomon a moment to catch up with Darwin’s train of thought. “Oh! No, they—well I can’t say for sure, I guess, but they’ve seen them from up here… is what I gather.” He seemed to ponder something for a moment, his brow furrowing and eyes squinting. He’d been told not to go down there, that there was no way out (or the less-likely option, that it had no real bottom), but… if they’d found skeletons in it, then someone had to venture into the pit, didn’t they? And return, with said bones in their possession? It only made sense. “On the walls, perhaps…” He leaned a little bit further, unafraid of toppling in, trying to spot any sort of movement on the interior.
Eyebrows rose when the smallish one suggested that they go inside—that hadn’t been part of the plan. Solomon spared a glance in the direction of the cave he’d meant to take them to, the one they were supposed to explore… but his own insatiable curiosity wouldn’t let him completely shoot down the idea. He glanced to Darwin, an expectant look on his face.
“I… don’t know. I suppose someone must have, if they found skeletons. It would require climbing gear, though, that I don’t have… I’m certain the drop would kill you, if nothing else.” Clicking on his flashlight and shining the beam down into the dark hole, Solomon did little to hide the excited grin that had appeared on his lips. Roots moved through the earth beneath them, burrowing toward the walls of the pit, slithering through cracks and crevices and breaking them open wider with their tough, fibrous tendrils. The trees that surrounded them creaked and groaned with the effort of pooling their energy to move their massive root system deeper and deeper, puncturing the barrier.
Letting the light fall upon the stilling plant life, Solomon gestured with his other hand. “Might be in luck, though… if you think you can hold on to those without slipping.”
∞
“It is, isn’t it?” Darwin heaved a sigh as he continued peering into the hole, careful not to get too close. It was the perfect place to dispose of bodies and an even perfect place to hide yourself if you were a demon. He stole a glimpse of Bertrand who was just staring into the hole as well. The self-appointed butler was most likely just as curious as him as well, if not more, hopefully not to the point of no return. Speaking of no return… “Ah.” He figured as much. Most of Solomon’s sources would have probably not ventured into the hole. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have been sources for anything. “Of course.”
“Should I push him in, Master Darwin?” Bertrand’s voice in his head interrupted the demon wrangler’s internal monologue. Curious, and a little slow to realize what the demon was suggesting, Darwin turned to them and saw that they had shifted their gaze from the insides of the hole to Solomon looking down, closer to the edge.
“NO! Don’t you dare! He’s our guide, not bait. Besides, we don’t know if he told anywhere he is right now, if he shared my name or information. We could easily be traced when he disappears. It’s not like we know what to expect down there if we were to try and retrieve him, either. If he’d survive the fall.” Darwin retorted in their shared mental space, and Bertrand appeared to sigh as they returned their gaze down the hole.
When Solomon finally turned to him, Darwin immediately put on a smile, as if to persuade him, the two of them, that everything was all right, that Bertrand didn’t just suggest pushing Solomon in the hole, but that smile was more awkward than anything. “Yes, of course. The drop…would kill you.” He turned to Bertrand with an “I told you so” face, but Bertrand just nodded once and resumed their one-on-one spiritual session with the hole.
“Oh, uhm…” Darwin winced, more than a little hesitant if not absolutely fearful for his life. He’s grabbed on to a lot of things in his life, but vines? He’s seen a lot of horror movies to know those things break during the most perilous of times. "Are you sure?“ To be fair, Bertrand could probably spread their wings and fly them out of there if need be, but there were two of them, and Darwin himself wasn’t sure he’d survive the fear of falling. How pathetic. "Do you have, uhh, a contingency plan if the vines, roots break?”
Oh. I get that. Should probably try that myself. Oh, I know that one. They were like movies about it too. Like two? What, you were looking for books about…real vampires? Tips for…going into the library? be quiet? I don’t fucking kn The librarian’s pretty helpful and smart, so if you’re into asking for help for some reason I’d reach out.
∞
I mean, are there even real vampires? Crap, how do I bullshit my way out of this??? BERTRAND HELP Even if there are, they’d probably have been extinct for a while. I mean, I can understand how they’d survive in the Middle Ages: No electricity, everything was dark and scary, most people didn’t have guns or tasers, garlic wasn’t used for cooking everything then… [user inserted a shrugging emoji] Oh, yes, I think we’ve been introduced…online. I should probably visit her soon. Been busy getting drunk the past few days. Work, am I right?
Ah, no. No, I’m not. I don’t really think it’d be a good use of the police’s time and I don’t want to have to answer questions like why my car is missing in the first place, there’s been a lot going on lately, I’m sure they have their hands full. If I have to, I will, but I thought going to the message board might be a better idea.
∞
Oh, hey, don’t say that! The police works for us, you know. The taxes we pay fund them, so we’re basically their boss. Wait, have I been paying my taxes? [user squints at Bertrand] That’s fair, though. To be honest, message boards are filled with crazy people. They’d make jokes more than help you. I should know. You just caught me sober, so here I am. If you’re anywhere near Downtown, I could probably offer you sanctuary. My place isn’t that great but it’s a place.
Someone did say that just the fact that they’re loud can sometimes be enough to deter would be attackers, but anyone ballsy enough to try and take your weapon off you now also knows exactly what weapon you have. I don’t think I need to worry about zombies. Oh my god do I need to worry about zombies??? When I first got to town mimes were apparently attacking people, so I’ve just tried to steer clear since.
∞
Huh. Now I’m wondering if shotguns are perfect against mimes. I mean, not just for shooting them directly but for scaring them away with how loud they are. Mimes hate sound, right? Or is that not a thing? Either way, I’m still not sure how much of a problem mimes can be. Compared to demons, they’re probably just mild nuisance at best. They’re…mimes. What are they gonna do? Trap you in an invisible box? Hit you over the head with an invisible vase? [user inserted a laughing emoji]
I own it, if you’d like to borrow it. There’s also the library… I’m not entirely sure there’s a bookstore. I haven’t come across one. I generally just go to the library.
∞
Oh, a lot of things, to be honest. I’m what the kids these days would refer to as “extra”, which means I can be a bit too much, too emotional, too unnecessarily…expressive, I think. [user inserted a laughing emoji]
Oh, that reminds me: I should really pay a visit to the library. I’ve been meaning to go but work, you know? I’ve been to a bookstore here a couple of days ago but I probably shouldn’t come back for a while. Maybe until the embarrassment wears off. I’d love to borrow it but I can be forgetful when it comes to returning things, I’m afraid. Thanks, though.
Triennes Rosé and Moulin de Gassac Guillhem Rosé. They both sound like good taste to me. I know very, very little about wine. I have a friend who sometimes sends me very expensive bottles that taste great, but I couldn’t tell you what they are. Most of my wine experiences are something cheap that comes out of a box. And, really, most whiskey and tequila is good as long as it gets the job done.
∞
Oh, my! Now that’s a friend I’d like to make. Can you introduce us? I’ve been having minor difficulties procuring my own wine in this…quaint little place. A helping hand in the form of your friend would do wonders! In return, maybe I can help you learn more about wine if you’re that interested? On bad days, to be honest, vodka does it for me, but those would be really, really bad days. Tequila isn’t that bad as well, though I can’t say the same for whiskey.