Bio.

GENERAL INFO.

Full Name: Alastor Rosales
Aliases: Al, Little Crow (by Alu), Pramatinum (by Alu; Infernal for "beloved keeper of [my] soul / chosen keeper of [my] heart and soul")
Gender and Pronouns: Cis Male; He/Him
Place of Birth: Berlin, Germany
Heritage: White German; Demonic/Infernal (Incubus/Succubus)
Date of Birth: October 28th, 1990
Age: 34
Parents:

Siblings: N/A
Children: N/A
Other Family:

Allergies: N/A
Addictions: N/A
Mental Conditions/Disorders: Complicated Bereavement (Grief) Disorder
Physical Conditions/Disorders: N/A

APPEARANCE INFO.

Features: Strong, defined features, with a contoured face, full lips, and almost glowing eyes. Alastor has some facial hair, as well as various tattoos lining his torso and arms. Most notably, these include a large butterfly across his chest, two snakes trailing along his waist and ending on the lower abdomen, and a large sacrificial dagger on his back.
Voice Claim: Matthias Schweighöfer
Eye Color: White
Hair Color: Light Blond
Hairstyle: Grown-in, untamed undercut with strands that frame the face.
Build: Broad and incredibly athletic, with a notable inverted triangle shape and defined muscles.
Height: 6 feet and 7 inches (approx. 201 cm)
Weight: 260 pounds (approx. 118 kg)

SOCIAL INFO.

Connections:

Relationship Status: Married (Open Marriage)
Sexuality: Bisexual

MISC. INFO

Danae, Alu, and Alma belong to Vendetta.

Alastor’s Complicated Bereavement (Grief) manifests primarily as inadequate emotional regulation. Regular routines such as adequate sleep, nourishing meals, adequate exercise, and social contacts are disrupted. The severity of these disruptions depends on the timeline; it is most notable when he does not have Alma, or in the period following learning the truth of Danae's disappearance and death.

Alastor has both an incubus and succubus form. The ability to alternate between incubus/succubus is a remnant power from the older mythos eras, ergo it’s not entirely necessary for forms to frequently be alternated (modern incubi/succubi maintain average fertility levels comparable to their human counterparts; some are infertile and some are very fertile). That being said, Alastor uses he/him regardless of form, and identifies as a man. He presents most in his incubus form, and lives day-to-day in this form. Alastor’s voice does not change between forms, nor does his height, body hair (facial hair he chooses to shave; which also means that when he switches back to his incubus form, he’ll be shaved), tattoos, and scars.

BACKGROUND.

The myths of Lilu are vast, yet intertwined. It is said that those coming from her—or her counterpart Lilitu—harness an intriguing set of powers that allow them to secure their legacies and further demon kind through consummation with those beyond Hell’s gates. Though in more modern experiences, those born of Lilu and Lilitu hardly find purpose in their innate desires. The Medieval Europeans claimed it was these descendants—incubi and succubi—that birthed witches and the deformed. Yet the truth was hardly so simple, and never so involved.

As the tides changed for those within Hell’s domain, so did the mythos. Lena and Leon were both of Infernal descent, and their story goes as any other. They swore themselves to their legions and found love amidst times of turmoil. And when Lena had discovered she was carrying their lineage... She made a deal to flee the hostile landscape. Leon agreed, and the duo had their son, Alastor, in the bustling city-state of Berlin, Germany. Knowing they could not go back to their previous lives, they lived and raised Alastor among humankind. This came with the caveat that he would not know much about Infernal culture, beyond the relevant changes that occurred as he aged. His father built a long-standing career with the Bundeswehr, while his mother did varied work from the family’s home. The family traveled often thanks to Leon’s career, finding themselves in residences across the globe. While the travel was nice, the family sought a return to comfort. As such, when Alastor came of age, he moved back to Berlin and rented a quiet apartment toward the outskirts. His parents would move to the countryside, using money from his father’s pension.

For the first while, his independence felt overwhelming. He worked odd jobs here and there, trying to find the balance between those innate urges and the desire for normalcy. This was how he stumbled into the adult entertainment industry. Flexible hours, sensual work... it was the perfect combination. And he flourished. Alastor became a recognizable face in the industry, making a name for himself and tapping into the underground scene. This allowed him to meet others like him. Some Infernal, some not, but all entirely Myths. His newfound community and lifestyle allowed him to take a simple approach to his life, indulging in local events and immersing himself in the bustling city he called home.

And one winter evening, his life would change.

Finding himself in Nuremberg for the annual Christkindlesmarkt, Alastor suddenly felt a strange sensation take hold of him. A magnetic pull that had him looking over his shoulder. With rising sentiment against Myths, he’d initially believed it to be intuition. A sign that someone knew what he was, and that something terrible would happen. Yet as that pull grew stronger, a fresh fear had entered him. The energy was divine in the most literal sense of the word. He had no connections to Hell, nor the Luciferin monarchy that took it in an oppressive chokehold, yet he felt as if he should be in trouble. That he was in trouble. Yet the only trouble he was in was picking fruits off the cobbled street as he bumped into a sweet woman. He’d apologized profusely and offered to buy her replacements, but she’d propositioned him into buying her dinner somewhere quieter. Heart-struck, he agreed and led her to one of the quiet taverns on the edges of the market. The two talked, with the woman—Danae—revealing that she was in the area gathering information for a growing resistance. Intrigued, by her mission and her beauty, Alastor sat with her for hours talking about this and that and, when she expressed that she had to go, gave her his number so that they may find each other in good company whilst she remained in the country. Intimate dates and secret meetings allowed shadowed mutual feelings to blossom, and one day, he proposed.

Danae accepted, and they would hold an intimate ceremony on the northern coast that they now called home.

Even away from the city, chaos seemed to seep into the rustic floorboards of their home. Danae, claiming to fish for various vessels, constantly disappeared to sea, leaving home. Knowing that she was a grown woman, and more than capable of caring for herself, Alastor did his best to give her the space she needed to do what it was she needed to do. He maintained his work in the adult industry, traveling into the city to conduct film shoots and star in collaborative films. And with every reunion, every moment they found each other home together, the bond between Danae and Alastor grew stronger; tugged at their hearts with a fiery passion, and led to Danae revealing the truth.

During a terrible storm, Danae returned home in the dead of night and mortally wounded. Panicked seeing the sorry state of his wife, Alastor quickly took her in and questioned her on what happened. Initially, he was of the mindset that it was a simple shipwreck. Something of happenchance that she found herself lucky to survive. Danae would shake her head and reveal that she was not a mere sailor, or cook, or crewmate, but a renowned figure among Myth kind and the supposed saviour of Mer known as Sabrine. While initially taken aback by the confession, Alastor’s love for her outweighed any sense of perceived betrayal. He did not care about her identity, nor her duty. Not nearly as much as he loved her. And, as with all love, there was compromise. Sabrine would not bring the battlefield home to Alastor, and Alastor would not try to follow her to it. She emphasized the latter point by stating that he would need to be home anyway, as he would have to care for their child. This was how he learned she was pregnant, and he was ecstatic.

And he would only grow more so when their daughter, Alma, was born. She would grow to encompass the best of her parents: part divine, part Infernal, part Mer, and a Guardian.

Alastor would tend to young Alma while her mother was frequently away for long stretches, fighting for a better future for the three of them. Alastor was devoted, doting over his child and doing his best to help her hone her abilities, even with his limited understanding of Sabrine’s abilities and culture. Still, his efforts were sincere. Alma never knew a moment without love, especially when her mother was home and the three of them could be together.

Alma would be just two and half years old when this peaceful existence would fall apart all too soon. The war grew more tumultuous and hostile, and it descended upon them far too quickly for them to react. The war destroyed their quiet, page corner town, leaving only their little cottage on the tall cliff by the sea untouched. Soon, however, that too would be destroyed. Just before dawn, the family awoke to a rabid mob of human civilians and soldiers breaking through their doors and windows. Alma’s parents fought hard to protect her, with Alastor taking the brunt of the beating and weakening him enough to drag the three of them out into the twilight. Before the crowd, the soldiers held up an injured and weak Sabrine and revealed her identity to them all. They spoke of her endless assaults against the human forces, telling of how she destroyed ships and flooded towns. Not all of what they said was true- they omitted the fact that she disarmed men but never killed them, and contrary to the propaganda they spewed, she and her kin never devoured men alive. The crowd, convinced of her guilt, demanded her death. Alastor begged and pleaded for his wife to be spared, to no avail. They beat him to the point of near-unconsciousness, leaving him only able to watch his wife’s public execution. In her last moments, Sabrine told him not to worry about her—just to take care of their child.

The shot rang out, and as it echoed, a last gift, given earnestly to spare him pain, erased any memory of Sabrine from his mind.

Only Alma remained.

The humans were merciless, however. Though they didn’t know Alastor was a myth and mistook him for a sympathizer who had slept with a beast, they deemed his daughter an abomination. He watched helplessly as they threw his screaming, frightened daughter from the cliff, his pleas unheeded, and then he fainted. He would come to find himself waking up alone, body aching, the smell of a home forgotten burning to the ground, and a mind that seemed more gaps than memory. There was one thing he could recall with perfect clarity, however: Alma, his daughter. And though his body and his soul ached with unplaceable feeling of grief and loss, he poured himself into finding his little girl. But it would be several long months before he saw her again.

The period between their separation and reunion was intensely depressive, with Alastor eventually moving back to the city after staying with his parents in the countryside. He tried so hard to return to normalcy, yet the grief was too intense, and he traversed the coasts once again, hoping that something—anything—would change. One fateful day, as he sat on the shore contemplating the possibility of casting himself into the dark depths, they did. Something did change. Soft sobs from a bundle of seaweed caught his attention and rested within the kelp was his daughter. Happy, healthy, and alive. Holding his child again, Alastor wept with joy, elated and relieved. He remembered very little of his past life now, but he could never forget her—nor the way he wanted to protect her and keep her close.

With his little girl back in his arms, Alastor would set off to try to find out how they had come to end up like this to begin with. Alma was too young to explain anything, leaving her father only to deduce that she’d had a mother, and he, a wife. He thought of searching for her and spent several years perilously navigating the land for clues. Yet, he found himself frustratingly short of answers. Only flashes of memories came and went. A face, an object, a moment blurry and distant and foggy. Alma remembered even less, having only the pendant of her mother around her neck as a memory of the woman who had sacrificed everything so she could live. As things grew more unsteady and leads dried up, Alastor made the decision to leave with his daughter to get a fresh start. Though he couldn’t remember why it was so painful, he knew that staying would only make it hurt more. However, he would come to find that leaving was a difficulty. Anti-Myth policies tightened and restricted movement, and Alastor had few leads or resources. In desperation, he turned to an underground network he’d heard whispers of. Despite his unease, he figured that it might be his only chance to give his little girl a life.

Most regarded the Takamura Sisters to be a widespread underground criminal empire involved in trafficking, smuggling, and illicit practices. At least, that’s what the humans said. But Alastor would come to find out that, for the Myths of the world, the Takamura Sisters and their organization were a beacon of hope—a critical lifeline helping Myths leave dangerous areas and find themselves gainfully employed and their families safe. A bartender connected him to the sisters one evening; he then went to their underground club to speak with them. Alastor explained his situation as best he could and pleaded for their help. He told them of his profession as an adult film star and even offered himself as payment for his child’s safety. The sisters were much kinder than he expected. They told him they would employ him as an actor—complete with payment, medical care, stipends for food, housing, and childcare. He would be a legitimate employee of theirs, and in return, they would help him. And so it was that the duo would board the next boat out of Europe.

The two would end up moving to the States and bounce from place to place for several more months before settling into a well-fortified and tightknit page corner town. The sisters secured an apartment that Alastor would rent. Upon moving in, he would come to find that demons and their worshippers primarily inhabited the building. Surrounded by kin he’d never known, he found a sense of stability and community. Though still depressed and frustrated with his lack of memories, he found himself comforted by the company and found therapeutic relief in connecting with his infernal heritage. It was a pivotal period of bonding for him and his daughter. It was also during this time that he met Alu—a powerful archdemon and legate of Hell’s military, under Queen Satan. Though he couldn’t quite place it, Alastor felt a strange sense of déjà vu with Alu. Though unbeknownst to him, the enigmatic draw he felt to the archdemon was much like the feeling he’d shared with his late wife. However, Alastor was still very raw and reluctant to face these feelings, especially when he had his child to focus on. Alu, oblivious to the circumstance despite the pull, was empathetic to Al’s situation. And so he offered to help.

What started as a friendly introduction blossomed into a very close friendship. Alu helped Alastor unpack and move into his apartment and volunteered to take turns cooking and cleaning while he focused on creating a new routine and sense of normalcy with Alma to help her adjust. Alastor came to appreciate Alu’s presence and his understanding, especially as he expressed anxiety about starting work soon and being apart from Alma. When prodded, he hesitantly explained what he knew about himself and his child, as well as all they had been through. In a moment of vulnerability, Al let spill how helpless and frustrated he felt with his inability to remember something so important as the mother of his child. He broke down, and Alu embraced him and comforted him. He reassured Alastor that he would not have to do this alone and promised himself to be a reliable support. That would be the first time Alastor actually allowed himself to look at Alu and feel hope once more.

From then on, Alu became a good friend and a confidante to Alastor. He trusted no one else to babysit Alma—and she would prefer no one else to play with. Alu would prove to be an excellent companion, and Alma bonded to him just as quickly. He was a teacher, a protector, and a support for the young girl whenever her father was away. He helped her harness her demonic abilities and channel her focus to her benefit. And as time went on and Al witnessed the way Alu had taken Alma under his wing as if she were his own child, he came to realize that he was falling in love with the archdemon. That pull in his chest grew stronger, every casual interaction became a moment of pure infatuation, and Al struggled to contain his desire despite the lingering anxiety at the back of his mind. Eventually, however, it would come to light during a late night talk they shared while Alma was sleeping over at a friend in the building’s apartment. Alone together at last, the heavy tension that had been hanging precariously between them finally gave way. The night was passionate and intense, ending with them both in Alastor’s bed with a quiet acknowledgment to take things slow. Alu agreed, willing to put his comfort and Alma’s before all else. And so became their new normal; for many years, the three of them would live a comfortable, stable life in the apartments.

Until Alma turned 12.

Having spent the majority of her life gaining mastery over the infernal powers bestowed upon her by her father, the neglected and smothered power of her mother that had been bubbling beneath the surface finally burst. The lack of control and the intensity of her power frightened Alma, and she begged her father to help her. Alastor once again felt helpless. He still remembered next to nothing about her mother, much less her abilities. Thankfully, Alu was able to step in and connect them with several members of the community—the first being the witch, Amalgamate. Upon explaining the situation and observing her powers—especially the uncontrolled growth of a fishtail when submerged in water—Amalgamate deduced that she was a mermaid, and a powerful one at that. She offered to put Alma and her fathers in contact with a guild of Merfolk who could help her understand her abilities and learn to harness her power. Alastor was reluctant, but Alma was desperate to be rid of the fear, and Alu encouraged him to consider it an opportunity for her to learn of her maternal lineage. And so he reluctantly agreed.

They arranged a meeting in a quiet cove on the distant shoreline. Alastor and Alu accompanied Alma for protection. The Merfolk that greeted them were dressed grandly and bore weapons. However, when they saw Alma, they dropped to their knees in reverence and called her by a name unknown to her—Sabrine. Alma corrected them, saying she was not Sabrine, nor did she know who she was. After a moment, their leader stepped forward to study her and, in shock, softly confirmed that she was not Sabrine—but her child. Desperate, Alastor asked her what she meant. The leader, recognizing Alastor from Sabrine’s descriptions, asked him what happened to Sabrine and became visibly upset when he told her he didn’t know. She was immediately distrustful of him and made to act in violence, but Alma stopped them. She said he was her father, and she did not want to fight—she came because she was told they could help her harness her powers. The Merfolk looked at her in awe and, after a demonstration, vowed to help her in honor of their fallen goddess.

Alma would spend the next few years coming and going from the sea, much to Alastor’s chagrin. He tried to accompany his daughter as far as he could, anxious to be away from her and frustrated at the continued lack of answers. Alu did his best to comfort him, insisting that a little independence was healthy, and that Alma needed to learn to control her abilities. Alastor agreed begrudgingly. Though upset by the perceived distance growing between them, no one was more proud or cheered more loudly than he did when they attended her coming of age ceremony at sixteen. The clan of Merfolk her mother had first served all those years ago inducted her. However, right as the ceremony drew to a close, a rain of explosives from human bomber planes interrupted them. The attendees scattered, and Alu grabbed Alma and Alastor and rushed them back home to safety. Though shaken, Alastor attended to his daughter, expecting her to be frightened. Instead, he saw only fire in her eyes.

Alma said that she refused to live her life in fear. She refused to let man’s selfishness continue to oppress and kill her kind and all of Mythkind. She announced that was joining the resistance, insisting it would have been what her mother wanted. Alastor was heartbroken and terrified by the announcement. He begged Alma not to go, knowing not what happened to her mother but feeling in his gut that she had been a casualty of this war. He could not let his beloved daughter end up as Sabrine had. Alma insisted that she would be okay, and after several days of back-and-forth conflicts, Alastor was finally convinced by Alu to let her go, as this was her decision. It did little to stop the heartbreak, but Alastor agreed, embracing his child one last time and seeing her off in the water without knowing if he would ever see her again.

The days, months, and years that passed were intense, particularly in the beginning. Each day, he anxiously scanned and reread the news, hoping and praying that he wouldn’t see her name among the victims of the tragedy. Thankfully, the times he saw her name were triumphant; glorious and tactical. Every move she made struck ripples in the Mythic War and, the more Al read, he realized that she really was her mother’s daughter. Soon enough, those anxious woes turned into an unshaking pride.

On a quiet day, in the quiet evening, Alma would appear at her fathers’ door and tearfully embrace both Al and Alu. This time, nothing would tear the reunited family apart. As they separated, Alma paused the endless train of questions they barraged her with, introducing Razmatalika. Though initially confused, learning her identity and what she knew shocked the two demons. Al, desperate to know the truth at last, begged her for clarity. For peace. Razmatalika responded that she could not promise him peace. Only the truth. And so they sat together on the couch, taking turns questioning the ancient leviathan about who Sabrine was. They would come to learn of her origins, her mythos, her legends and stories—including the ones written about her secret lover on the shore. The most troublesome part came when she described the end of that happiness, and she opted instead to show Alastor what happened—by returning his memories to him. With a tap on his forehead from her long horn, Alastor’s mind cleared. The fog of old magic lifted, and he could see at last everything that had happened. From their first meeting, to the revelation of her identity, to the birth of his child, and the loss of his wife. At long last, Alastor could grieve what he had lost. He could bury her properly in his mind. He was grateful, though shattered, to finally learn the truth. Razmatalika reaffirmed her promise to them and left them to mourn. Despite the heartbreak of learning how his first love had ended, Alastor had support. He had his daughter and his partner, and slowly he would come to accept what had happened to Sabrine, though he could never stop feeling an ache of love for her.

As with all things, time went on, and the wounds finally began to heal. Alma, wanting to stay close to home and only occasionally travel, decided to open up the Seasong Delivery Service, a courier and delivery service aimed at personalized procurement and shipment of valuables and communication. She built a lighthouse on the coast in honor of her mother to help guide wayward ships, established new trade routes for independent merchants, and paved the way to bridge the gap between aquatic myths and the land. Though occasionally still recognized as a young veteran of the war, Alma lives a mostly quiet life running her business, enjoying her hobbies, and making sure her dads are okay.

They were. They most certainly were.

After many years spent nurturing their bond, facing hardships, raising a child, and remaining perfectly enamored with each other—and with their daughter finally settling into a quiet, stable life of her own that they don’t have to worry about—Alu and Alastor would take each other as mates and be wed. The ceremony was a private, intimate, and traditional affair for an infernal couple, with a few of their own little twists for flair. Though their relationship can seem eccentric to those unfamiliar with them, there is no doubt amongst the tenants of the apartment: it would be very near impossible to find a couple more devoted to and smitten with each other than them, even after all this time.