"Y para que llorar, pa’ qué (And why cry, for what?) si duele una pena, se olvida (If it hurts bad, forget it) y para qué sufrir, pa’ qué (And why suffer, for what?) si así es la vida, hay que vivirla la la le (If life is like this, you must live it)"
birth name :: Santiago de Andrada alias :: Saint James, ironically. nickname(s) :: Santi or Iago. age :: 457 calling :: Demon sexuality :: Pansexual status :: Single occupation :: Crossroads Demon origins :: Original character
eyes :: Brown hair :: Light brown height :: 5'6" build :: Medium to slim, not broad shouldered. distinguishing marks :: None, unless his red eyes are showing. play-by :: Jay Ryan
- - - - [Santiago]likes
Sunrise in Spain
Getting his way
- - - - [Santiago]dislikes
Bland or disgusting food
Whining or begging
Swamps or boggy areas
- - - - powers
Flight (when in smoke form)
Regeneration (of his human vessel)
- - - - strengths
Unlimited stamina (no need to sleep, eat, etc)
Superhuman strength and perception
- - - - weaknesses
Exorcism will send him to hell, and its extremely difficult to crawl his way back out.
Can be trapped in demon traps.
Constrained by rules of deals he makes
- - - - secret
Jealous of humans oblivious nature and their general happiness. He has attempted to have a family several times to disastrous results.
- - - - dreams
To rise in rank to be recognized as a powerful demon and gain a place of power.
To live on Earth in relative peace.
- - - - fears
Vulnerability, anything that would make him weak.
Death, of the more permanent sort.
- - - - things of note
Has a love of theater and is enthralled by modern day movies.
Hates children, but wants one of his own.
Likes playing the board game, Risk.
1560, Spain. Outside Seville. It was pouring the day of his birth. His mother was alone with the midwife, the leaky thatched roof dripping rain slowly to the floor next to where she lay. Across the room her daughter and his oldest sister was keeping the fire going. When he came into the world he was a weak infant. Sick often enough to keep his mother from her own household duties, putting more pressure on his sibling. This didn't change as he grew, a sickly child who fell ill even with the slightest chill. Small for his age and under nourished he tried his best to support his mother and sister since his father had never come home.
As a teenager his sickly nature had waned and he grew to be the same height as his mother. He took over more of the chores and tended to their small crops, enough to feed their family plus some. The leftover he would try and trade for things they didn't have in town. His sister and himself would walk the few miles to town, barefoot, to do so. When their mother started to fall ill the two youngsters had to fend for themselves and care for her. When her health turned for the worse they couldn't afford to call for a doctor. So they sat and did their best until she passed. For days they waited to see if she would wake, and when she didn't they had to bury her.
Santiago had then needed to find work to keep their home intact, putting in long hours at farmland adjoining them. When he was twenty his sister fell ill and he panicked. Refusing to lose his last remaining family he started to ask for help, finding no real sympathy. Eventually he ran into an old woman who gave him a way to save his sister. She told him all he needed to do was dig a hole in the center of a crossroads, bury a box with a picture of the summoner, some graveyard dirt, and a bone from a black cat. The picture was really the only part he wasn't sure of. But his sister had always enjoyed art and he eventually got her to agree to sketch a picture a drawing of himself with charcoal from the fireplace.
With the miscellaneous things he needed he found the only roads he knew that intersected in four ways. Nervous he glanced around the quiet section before burying the box and swallowing tightly before tugging the scrap of paper he had been given by the old lady. His sister had taught him the basics of reading and the old lady had walked him through how to say these ones. Nervous and halting he spoke the words. When he finished he looked up from it to see a woman he had never seen before. Heart hammering he had listened only barely before he made his demand, wanting nothing more than his sister's good health and long life, and not considering anything else. With a smile that sent shivers down his spine the demon had agreed, the deal made, and he had headed home with a sinking feeling.
By the time he arrived home, however, his sister was in perfect health and he put the encounter out of his mind. For ten years they thrived, his sister got married and even had children. So when the Hellhounds came for him he had all but forgotten the deal he had struck for their happiness. Santi had tried to run and hide from the monster after him, fear forcing him to run faster and further than he thought he could. In the end, however, he was unable to escape the reality. The Hellhound found him, and ultimately killed him. While his sister lived a happy and long life, Santiago's ended, and his years in Hell began.
Hundreds of years later he re-emerged a demon, vicious, angry, and ambitious. He did well in collecting souls, doing deals of his own, and was soon left to his own devices. He never stuck his neck out to far and preferred being a small player. The longer he stuck to the shadows, after all, the less likely any of the others would pay attention to him. The more he was thought inconsequential the more time he spent on Earth tending to his own motivations. Being the bottom of the totem pole was aggravating for him, and he was determined to claw and scrape his way to a position of power.
While Crowley, King of the Crossroads, mucked about with his designs at being the King of Hell, he had been systematically vying for the other demons position. King of the Crossroads sounded good to him, and was less intensive, and dangerous, than taking over Hell. There was no way he stood any chance against the more powerful demons. When the situation changed drastically and Crowley was suddenly the King of Hell. Surprised, but not shocked, he slides his way into the good graces and seizes control of the title King of the Crossroads without so much as a whisper of what he was doing. Someone had to fill the gap after all, and why not him?
Recently he has been busy pulling large contracts and keeping a wary eye on Crowley as well as his own competition. Spending less and less time in Hell he has been busy finding contracts to feed Hell with Souls to keep eyes off him. With the Winchesters on bigger fish he felt a bit more secure in wandering Earth, particularly America. Finding he greatly agreed with the way this country was and even investing in a human meat suit to indulge in home ownership. Between doing deals and monitoring other crossroad demons he spends much time in his New Mexico home, dabbling in all sorts of things.
"No, no no. Idiota. Did I not explain the rules, or are you just being dense on purpose?" Sitting up from the chair he'd been reclining in, Santiago refilled his glass with whiskey. He had spent an hour explaining the rules to the game he liked, Risk, to a lesser black-eyed demon. It had seemed like he understood but when they had begun to play he had realized all his explaining had been lost on the younger demon. Looking over the mess of a board he knew victory was within his grasp already. The entire appeal of the game was to have a challenging partner to play against. "Just get out." Grateful the other demon got up to leave immediately, practically scurrying from the room.
Standing he placed his half full glass on the table in front of him idly, it wasn't like the alcohol was anything but taste for him after all. A few paces more found him at the sliding glass door that led to his porch and open backyard. Sliding open the door on its quiet rollers he stepped out into the pre-dawn air, finding himself standing at the opening in the railing. Sunrise was but a few moments off, the horizon already starting to lighten and colors paint the clouds. It was a consolation that even now new contracts were being made as old ones were being collected. It nearly made up for the lack of any other distractions. Leaning against the wooden support of his porch railing he slid his hands into his pockets and let his dark eyes distractedly watch the sun rise. His new position didn't have the appeal he had thought it should and it was becoming more frustrating by the day.
It was time to spread out his metaphorical wings and make some human friends it seemed. Where he could force other demons to play his favored game with him they weren't actually interested in its fundamentals. Where was the fun in taking over of the game's world if his opponent was both weak and afraid to beat him. Honestly they acted like he was vindictive. Sure it might be a justified reaction but it was still infuriating. A smirk painted itself on his face as the reds and oranges of sunrise started to paint the dark skies. A human would play better because they didn't know what he was, weren't afraid to play to their potential win. In the end he might even get them to make a deal too, so that was another bonus.
Maybe he could make this a bigger game. If a human beat him at this game, he would leave them be. A free pass as it were. If they lost he'd see to making some sort of deal with them. That could certainly spice up his current slump. Sure soul numbers were steady still, but he wanted more than that. As the sun finally stopped coloring the sky he turned and went back inside. He had wasted enough time thinking. Cleaning up the game board he left the box where it was and scooped up his drink to head out of the living room. Time to become a model community member, and start his new business venture.
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