Sloan Jordan on - Sloan Jordan

49 years old
Mussleburgh, Lothian
United Kingdom

Last Login:
June 25 2022

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Personal Details

Full name:Sloan Jordan

Angelic name:Praea

Nickname:Referred to as Witch or Freak by her best friend as a joke and in good humor

Playby:Emilia Clarke

Gender: Female

Species:Seramorta:meaning she is half human half angel.




City or town of birth: unknown

Currently lives:Ashville a small rural country town but is originally from Atlanta.

Relationship Status:



Hair color:brunette

Hairstyle: long and straight

Eye color:brown

Skin: creamy white

Preferred style of clothing:casual clothing except when working then she wears suits

Any physical ailments:suffers from anxiety and a sever form of migraine headache that leaves her debilitated and unconscious on the occasions when she suffers them.

Any medication regularly taken:yes Xanax which is a strong medication to help counter her headaches and anxiety attacks


Likes:Sloan has a great love for her parents and her best friend.she is fun loving out going and enjoys talking with those around her. from family to her best friend and her employer Mary Travers.Sloan and her best friend often joke about one of their former school friend Shannon green often referring to her as the traffic girl out of spite.

Dislikes: Sloan has an avid dislike of places like prisons and jails. These type of places hold many a man or woman that is bad or evil which is something that Sloan can sense and it can cause her to have either anxiety or panic attacks.She is unable to handle being around evil people for the effect it can have upon her.Usually resulting in her passing out or collapsing from the weight of the evil that reside within the soul of the evildoer.

Favorite color: unknown


:Because Sloane is half human half angel she has the power to see the souls of every person causing her to know wether they are alive or dead simply by looking at a photograph. She has the sense of knowing a person as if they had known one another for as long as both parties had been alive.Sloan is what is also known as a soul summoner meaning that she can literally summon a person to her. she also has the ability to extend the life of a person beyond the time they are meant to die as long as the person is with her. She is also able to sense know where there are others around even when she can't see them wether they are good or evil. Though she can drive a car Sloane she only does so when she is going somewhere where a car is required such as driving to her place of work or the local jail otherwise she prefers to walk.

home:Sloan lives in a small ground floor flat in the town of Ashville across the other side of the town live her parents who are in fact her adopted parents since they adopted Sloane at birth.Her flat is a two bedroom home with the usual things bathroom kitchen living room. Though she has a backdoor into her home it is not known if she has a garden out back though it is assumed that she has.

CAREER/EDUCATION: current job title and description:publicist.Sloan is a publicist for her local government newspaper and law enforcement in her small town of Ashville. Sloan writes up news articles police statements when required to be given to the local press office. Name of employer:Is actually unknown as it is not listed in the book series what the company is that she is employed by.Sloan went to the university of north Carolina at chapel hill.Has a degree in public relations. Did her internship with the Buncome county media dept.

COMBAT:Special skills/magical powers :Sloan's gifts are that she can see the soul of any living being. she can tell if they are alive or dead simply by looking at a photograph of them.she can also summon a person simply by thinking about or talking about them while she holds an image of them in her minds eye. She can also heal and prolong a person's life span. Because she is also half angel when she encounters another like herself she is unable to see their souls so it appears that she or they do not have one as in the case when she comes to encounter Warren Parrish and her real birth mother who is an Angel and goes by the name Abigail.

Weaknesses:Anxiety attacks around any and all persons that are evil.



Parents names:Mr & Mrs Jordan

Are parents alive or dead?:Sloane comes to realize that her mother is very ill near the end of the first book and that she has in fact been prolonging her mothers life for along time. Sloan's mother dies at the end of the first book due to a cancerous brain tumor that is in operable and she knew the moment of her mothers death before all others. Sloan is left to tend her only surviving parent which is her father with the help of her friends.

Partner/Spouse:In the book Sloan lives with and begins dating Warren Parrish who is also a seramorta like herself though Warren does not know who his human birth mother is he knows that his Angel father is Azareal the Angel of Death.

Best Friend: Adrianne(last name unknown)

Other Important Friends:Warren Parrish & Detective Nathan 'Nate' McNamara


     Sloan Jordan's Details
Here for:Networking, Friends,
Characters: Sloan Jordan
Verses: crime, crossovers, supernatural, books
Playbys: Emilia Clarke
Length: Multi Para, Para
Genre: Crime, Crossover, Open, Supernatural,
Member Since:September 10, 2012

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Born of an Angel of life & a human man, I am SeraMorta

Biographical History

This page is for role play game purposes only. All rights reserved:meaning the character of Sloan Jordan belongs to author Elicia Hyder creator of the soul summoner 6 book series. i have sought the authors approval and have received permission to use and role play her character. Also please show respect by not stealing anything from the page as everything is my own writing from the personal details to the bio history section using the books as a reference.

An ordinary woman with an extraordinary gift is out to stop evil with two irresistible men. One of them would die for her the other would kill to keep her safe.

My dearest reader greetings and welcome. I'm Sloan Jordan and i am Ashville's resident public relations officer for bother the local government council and law enforcement department. I was born in the city of Atlanta. My birth mother until i was an adult was unknown to me. I was found by my adopted mother situated upon a park bench outside her place of work. My adopted mother was a nurse and when she married my adopted father who is a doctor they chose to move from Atlanta the small rural town of Ashville partly due to my being injured at school when i was 8 when another school kid threw a rock hard enough to leave a scar upon y forehead once healed.

I'm 27 and have been in public relations ever since i left university. Life for me was uneventful mostly that was until i was called in to write and deliver a public relations statement to the police chief about their new recruits one of which was Detective Nathan 'Nate' McNamara.The day that hot sexy law officer walked into my office my life changed for the worse rather than the better. 27 years I kept my secret and in 'HE!'walks and I make the monumental mistake of telling him that the man in the photograph is dead. Monumental blunder or what? Next thing you know he's showing up every minute of the day badgering me on how i knew the victim was dead until eventually i just told him about my gift.

Gift? your probably wondering? Yup that's right gift though curse would be a better description if you want my opinion. I'm a seramorta.My unknown birth father was human but my natural birth mother was an Angel. Yes you heard me right and angel. What's my gift? well basically i can see and feel the souls of every living person in the world.I know who's alive or dead just by looking at an image of a person. I know also who's good and who's evil. And am able to heal and prolong life past their death date as it were though i didn't know that at the time. Are there others like me? Well yes there are but to look a them you can't see their souls. It's like staring at a shadow image that makes you think the person is dead. Have I met any? well other than my real mother who goes by the name Abigail only one. Warren Parrish former military soldier who's life was exactly like mine except he went into the system.Like me be does not know who his birth parent was but his father is Azareal one of the many who represent the Angel of Death.

more info to be added

Half human Half Angel

Book History

book 0: The Detective: Robbery arson murder and the one night stand that just won't end.

With eleven missing women to find and six high profile burglary cases to solve the last thing Detective Nathan McNamara needs in his life is one more complication. And that’s exactly what his recent one-night stand is becoming complicated. With his heinous lieutenant breathing down his neck for answers and his accidental girlfriend dropping hints for a commitment Nathan is realizing that his career and his bachelor status are both on the line.

When the burglary cases suddenly escalate to homicide Nathan must put everything else aside to stop the killer. But this is easier said than done when the blonde from the bar repeatedly shows up at his doorstep and enlists his own mother against him. Now he’s more convinced than ever that his job hangs in the balance and that the Surgeon General’s warning on the whiskey bottle should include something about women.

Detective Nathan McNamara is one of the leading men in The Soul Summoner Series. Chronologically this novella happens before the series begins, but it is a standalone and doesn't have to be read in order.

BOOK 1: The Soul Summoner: Blessed or cursed with a connection to the souls of others Sloan Jordan can see the best in people and the worst. With nothing more than a glance at a photograph she can judge the living from the dead and the good souls from the evil ones.For twenty-seven years she's kept her ability a secret but eleven young women have been murdered in the mountains of North Carolina and Sloan may be the only hope of finding their killer. She has just agreed to help Detective Nathan McNamara with the case when a stranger who is as alluring as he is terrifying shows up at her doorstep with a dark past and another puzzling mystery:she can't see his soul at all. Now Sloan is on the hunt for a deadly psychopath with two irresistible men. One of them would die for her and the other would kill to keep her safe.

BOOK 2: The Siren: All the missing victims of North Carolina’s deadliest serial killer have been found all except Rachel Smith who goes by the name Abigail Smith these days. When the FBI produces a photo proving Abigail is alive and well in Texas one case is closed but another one is opened. Either this is a case of mistaken identity or there are more people than just Sloan Jordan and Warren Parish who seem to walk the earth without a soul.Along with Detective Nathan McNamara Sloan and Warren travel south to find Abigail and solve the biggest mystery of all determining who or what they really are.

BOOK 3: The Angel of Death: After stopping a serial killer and shutting down an interstate human trafficking ring Sloane Jordan is ready for a break. But back at home in Asheville her problems have only just begun.The supernatural world has taken an interest in her and strange things are happening.Her powers are multiplying she’s plagued by vivid nightmares and a deranged young woman, babbling an unknown language has been detained by police. The only clue to her identity Sloan’s name carved into her arm. If that wasn't enough the FBI has launched a full scale investigation into her private life believing Sloan might not be as innocent as she claims. With her boyfriend Warren Parish deployed with the Marine Corps Sloan is left in the protection of Detective Nathan McNamara. And their complicated friendship is about to be tested. Sloan has a secret one that could turn even Nathan against her forever.

BOOK 4: The Taken: Sloane Jordan’s days are numbered. She has 139 to be exact.In that time there’s a lot to do:a missing friend to find a wedding to plan and her own murder plot to overthrow. When a lead takes the crew back to Chicago the truth they uncover is more shocking than they ever imagined to fight the enemies of the present they must first face the demons from the past.

BOOK 5: The Sacrifice: "Hello, Praea."

There's only one being on Earth who calls Sloan Jordan by that name her biological mother a demon named Kasyade. So why did she answer Sloan’s best friend’s phone? When Sloan reaches Adrianne Marx’s apartment to investigate all she finds is a half-written list of things to do before Sloan’s wedding:

1:Order booze for the reception. 2:Send the final guest count to the caterer. 3:Register for gifts. 4:Don’t forget to—

That's where the to-do list ended. Mid sentence with a scrawled line like Adrianne had been dragged away from the task. If Kasyade was involved in the abduction Adrianne probably had been. The reason? Ransom. The price? Sloan’s unborn daughter the most powerful angel in all of history.

But hell can’t rival the fury of an angry mother protecting her child and until the baby is born her incredible power is Sloan’s to wield. Now the prey becomes the predator as Sloan seeks to put an end to Kasyade forever.

book 6:A Regular Guy: They say the best things come to those who wait and no one hopes that's true more than Special Operations Commander Nathan McNamara. For over a year he's put his life his career and his mother's hopes for more grandchildren on hold to dive headfirst into a world he never knew existed. A world full of angels demons and enough sexual frustration to crack the Pope. But all that is supposed to be behind him and his future looks bright and full of possibilities. That is until a familiar chill ripples the atmosphere and a supernatural thunder rumbles over the mountains.

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Sloan Jordan's Friends Comments
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Le Fantôme -engagée- à Katherine

May 14th 2022 - 11:19 AM

“You are going to LOVE what I have for you.” Whips up something nice for his newest captive. “I heard you’re a coffee drinker.” Smiles seductively and gives her this offering. {{Lol..!!

Le Fantôme -engagée- à Katherine

May 5th 2022 - 2:02 PM

[After the Phantom of the Opera - movie version]

[Erik was known to be dead but he didn't die. After the burning of the Opera House, he survived and built it back, brick by painful brick. In his solitude, he created a grander version of Palaris Garnier with far more elaborate finishings and decor with many more secret passages and chambers. Even after his untimely death, the Phantom's spirit is still very much alive in Palaris Garnier for he walked neither living nor the dead and manifested at will when his soul can no longer contain the pent up emotion of his tortured life. ]

[Current Day]
Evening fell gently on the City of Paris. Great musicians from all around the world are scheduled to play at the Grand Opera house. There are events almost nightly. The phantom ignored them all. All those who enter the halls of Palaris Garnier cannot help but gasp in pure wonder at the exquisite detail all around. Each intricate detail held the very essence of the once Erik Destler.

The goal was to captivate all who enter here. Between the fine detailing along the ceiling one can see two angels darting across the sky, never quite making their way to one another was a specific detail Destler created in memory of his once lost angel. The candle like lamps that now illuminated the rooms  and corridors allowed just enough visual for those who wander the halls here but they never allow anyone to see fully the world in which you are engaged in. There are also many mirrors, large ones that could engulf the whole of another world on the other side and if you dare search, you just might never come back from where you are going. Those secrets are firmly in place.

The long staircases either bared right or left leading to the same room regardless, making it appear as if you were moving without even thinking. There are many things unseen here in Palais Garnier and the phantom made it that way. Which ever direction you take, the phantom could lead you out or keep you in. Depends on the price of their soul, or other interests of his.

Everyone could hear in the distance music playing, but not really know exactly where it came from. This was a regular occurance and often times ignored by the regulars.  It was a haunting melody that only seem to draw you in more. Velvet drapes covered the entrance of where the melody resonates from. They were the color of blood, not the vibrant color of springing blood but the color of an old wound that never really healed. There on the ceiling, a chandelier hangs. A vast enormous cascade of crystal. It hung low just above the stage as a million stars in a midnight sky and here the phantom would play.

The phantom with his soul bloodshot, poured his emotions as feathering and as maliciously onto the keys of a grand organ that seemed to be constructed from iron and the bones of the earth. The tune was indeed intimate. It came running down the jowls of all the sin and sorrow of mankind as if requested by a firmer voice threatening to squeeze what little compassion he had left in his decaying existence. As the notes rose up to the canopy of Palais Garnier, the phantom declared his dedication to a lost melody which turned his gaze placid as a forgotten river and glimmered with just as much hopelessness.

As his lament came to a conclusion, it was almost invisible but the shadows of his song continued to darken the air, only now it was silent as an owl. The phantom smiled triumphantly in despair and slammed the hood of the keys shut resounding a loud echo of his discontent.

No one came to these quarters. Only the phantom alone. As if some shuffling or footsteps began to resound varyingly along the grounds, he looked up. Not straight at her or who ever came to spectate, but he simply just looked up and he could see someone just out of the corner of his eye. It was a good evening, but now he was disturbed and could catch them all on fire. Those who threaten to impose on his privacy.

The phantom's disapproval sighed through him, beginning somewhere secret. His shoulder blade perhaps or deep in the marrow of his bones. "I did not ask for an audience." His heart filled with rage, it became taunt like a sail and something moved more surely and he stood up at last and disappeared only to reappear with power, standing at the curtain of her entrance. The sea, burning blue and glowing brighter with each menacing second as to why she was here. He could not yet see who it really was.
Le Fantôme -engagée- à Katherine

May 3rd 2022 - 11:37 AM

{{ What a wonderful and kind introduction. My dance instructor's name is Sloan as well. I guess that's partly why I like your character already. A very graceful element in life if you ask me. Please... add me to discord if you have it. I'm on mostly weekends. 


I have only one rp page that's active at this time. I can't multitask, but I do speak multi-languages. I studied abroad in Paris for a good year and got into photography. The history of Palais Garnier and it's phantom is extremely rich there. I saw the musical life when I was 13 and I hated every minute of it. Sicne then it's been a good 30 years and I love it. The mystery, danger, etc. Both drabbles are from just my backstory. It's not two seperate stories. I'll respond to anything given the time. Or just crazy banter. My friend from college plays Raoul and it gets crazy. 

Speak freely around me, I love to banter or just goof off. During the day, I'm Erik, during the night it gets a little darker. I can write extremely darkly, and the safe word is UNICORN. I'll stop everything. 
Le Fantôme -engagée- à Katherine

May 3rd 2022 - 7:59 AM

{{ Thank you for the reply. I know many here are not active and that's okay. I am rather new on the scene, but not new to writing. I will attach a couple of drabbles here for you, to read at your leisure that I've written for my place in such fictional history books. Which can also be found in my blogs. Honestly I don't know much about your character. I saw you on a resource page and added everyone. It's nice to see people around.

{{Though I don't mind the isolation. It makes things more real. I take it you know of Erik's past and his time with the Gypsies and Persians? I play at any time of his life with whoever wishes to know him.

[Drabble: Healed - But at what cost?]

[Flash of Memory of what happened to Erik in Christine's Absence]

The Midnight carnival was coming through town again, carrying with it a caravan of Gypsy travelers. Much like the one he spent most of his youth in as a side show display to earn coin for selfish slave-handlers. Among them an old mystic woman who wore sixty charms. All symbols of some ancient power. Though she was almost 80, the essence of souls she had starved gave her the look of ever lasting youth. Treacherous and beautiful in her power. Erik would ask her to change him.

Enraged at his disgusted grotesque appearance, he remembered the words of gypsy elders from long ago. That if he was aware and wanted something bad enough, he would find a price to pay for lost pretentious pathways that were not meant for the despairing. 'Would it be so bad to be normal?' He thought often. This is what happens when the unwanted are faced with the possibility of being wanted. Erik turned back twice. He sank his disgusting head into his hands at the base of a large tree before he heard the wagons approaching.

Cassandra, beautiful and mighty, could feel him awaiting there and appeared before him looking neither interested nor indifferent. Erik, without his mask looked up. The mystic shone like a flower, one with many thorns. The air around them was quiet, in a way that a battlefield is sometimes quiet. She recited an incantation that called forth the wind, her fist closed slowly; He could feel the squeezing, shrinking of his heart and lost count of how to breathe. He shook, the world shook and when she opened her hand, he unraveled completely, falling to the floor, snarling with misery and rage. "That's right." The mystic said "Yell, Wake up the dead!" Her voice sounded like branches breaking. "Do you want to be beautiful?" The mystic let out a cry of delight, for she knew his answer, but he was too ashamed to say it.

"Heal....." Cassandra hissed like a serpent. She touched his face with the softest caress and his grotesque scars began to melt away, dead skin crumbling, a gentle dimple appeared where once bone was revealed. Like a thousand scurrying shards being removed from his face, the Phantom was healed. The mystic began nodding, her voice became commanding, echoing with power as they crossed the air, she sang to him. "You will love, you will lose, you will enchant, you will choose, then burn and bury, for this you will bring to me a life from this love you create. Moloch demands it so!" She revealed a small, competent smile that darted into his heart like a spear. "If you do not...." This time the sound of her spell stung, a wakefulness, an excruciating pain where he felt his skin split and eyesockets crumble. He felt his face gone "I WILL!" Erik yelled at last and the pain stopped.

Everything was all gone in that moment. All that remained was his curse. The world became cold. It felt like night when the old smell of stones seemed to rise from far below the floor. With a trembling hand, a strong hand, he felt his face and he was new. A handsome face but he felt comfort behind the mask and doned it anyway. He would keep it on and in secret, cry furiously at the sight of a perfect complexion wondering what it exactly cost him.

Drabble - [After the Phantom of the Opera]
Paris 1871

The opera house was in roaring flames. Thunder rumbled over the black mountains like the purring of a giant cat, bringing with it a tumult down pour. So much rain, Erik swore it was the sea itself engulfing the whole of his world. Erik couldn't care less if the flames had taken him. He was already badly scarred and now his arms and shoulder, a portion of his back match his face. Before the rain, the flames, they were coming under the thick, swirling smoke that was his sky. Growing flames that would finally end all of his life's sufferings. He could have lived with is disfigurement but to see Christine flee into the arms of another made him stumble at the balcony parapet with the thoughtless grace of a young man. Had he known he had a heart, he would have ended his life sooner than now, but no. There would be another fate. The heavens drenched the illustrious opera house, saving a good amount of its elegance and his foreboding soul. Erik crouched, breathing heavily, his head hung in his hands as despair and anger harmonized in a kind of ear-piercing broken bass falsetto when he stood abruptly, screaming furiously as a trapped animal bounding at the wall and falling back with a sobbing snarl. His heart and very being shattered with the skeleton scaffolding of raw beams now exposed under the tapestries of a once adorned beautiful building. The breaking of his very soul echoed with the breaking of the long beams. He found himself clawing at his face, yelling mournfully for hours until his voice was gone, until his eyes became pools of blood, until the night took him.

[Months gone by] Townsfolk would sigh at the sight of the burnt opera house. A sigh of resignation that it would never yet again be a gathering place for talented voices. The phantom still rests here. For many days Erik would lay motionless, wheezing, sometimes weeping about the world being unfair. Could he have stabbed himself to death? Could he have thrown himself off the top most tower. Indeed, but why waste such effort when it took so much to breathe. Nothing was happening, nor did he care. Erik slept amongst the wreckage, murmured dreamily like a mad-man. He would cover his scars with dressings for tables, drink from broken bottles and stare into the windows. Children would point into those windows and run off. Ladies would gasp and hug one another upon the sight of the abandoned opera house. How Erik wished he would die. Now it seemed as if there was an earthquake. Another storm came, a nor'easter straight off the sea. It shook the town to bits, and hail came down like hooves. The wind blew the rain white as dogwood and heavy as marble. He thought he may drown, but instead he was smashed, not by the wind but what the storm blew in. A man picked Erik up, his wheezing and limping body as though he was but a boy. It was Gérard Carrière.
"Who are you!?" The delirious phantom demanded. "What do you want of me."

"You don't know me, my boy?" Replied Gerard. "Get up. Look at you. Look at all of this? Will you let it all waste away?" There seemed to be little hope left, but Gerard believed in Erik. He always had. "How should I deserve to have you know me? I am your father. Your poor old overjoyed father. I am the one who taught you, clothed you, and handed you over to your heroic destiny. How wise I was, and how sad for so long, and how proud I am now! My boy, get up!" he could not quite cry real tears, but his nose was running. Old Gerard let his outstretched arms drop to his sides. "This is what it is to have children!" he screeched. "Ungrateful son, will you desert your father in the hour of his distress? When a word from your pet Daee would have you set everything right again? Despise me if you will, but I have played my part in putting you where you are, and you dare not deny it! Villainy has its rights too." He hoisted Erik up and tended to his wounds and together they picked up the pieces of the infamous opera house one by one and restored it to its natural beauty, stroke by painful stroke.
Le Fantôme -engagée- à Katherine

May 2nd 2022 - 3:44 PM

Welcome to the Phantom of the Opera RPG.
Where all your fears, dreams, and enchantments come to life. It is known throughout the world that music is the single most solitary resonation that can reach all astral planes and no matter which plane you dwell in. Depending on how haunting your frequenzy is, that is where you will call forth emotion and I will be there. Ever watching, ever waiting. Like the seeker of souls, I am bound by obligation to something darker, older, something unknown. If you dare to search yourself. Then you will know me, ever constant, ever present, unforgiving and unforgettable to enter your realm of existance..

{{Don't be scared. Fear is only a four letter word meaning False Evidence Appearing Real, am I right? Sure is fun to pretend. Welcome!! Now lets see your best performance.}}

{{You are most welcome! -Erik}}
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