APPEARANCE


PERSONALITY TRAITS


BACKSTORY & MOTIVATION
Matsu was born in the mountains of Japan in the early 1900s. A part of a litter of twelve steppe Kitsune, mystical fox-like creatures capable of controlling the wind with their tails and shape-shifting. Her youth was spent the same as many other Kitsunes; Toying with humans and pulling all kinds of frustration inducing and unnerving tricks on them. Japan was a beautiful place with a rich culture, however the rather stern disposition of the people made them incredibly gratifying to bother and harass with trickery.

Many Kitsunes well into their nine tails were content with living as mischievous spirits. Matsu however grew bordered and frustrated with her siblings. Seeking to break away from the life other Kitsunes led Matsu looked for something drastic to set herself apart. One day she slipped into a mountain top monastery and caught sight of many monks practicing their martial arts.

Watching from the shadows Matsu felt entranced by the movements and strange elegance of what the humans did. For a time she watched but eventually grew confident enough to try and mimic them, slowly learning on her own until seeking proper instruction. For years afterwards Matsu spent her days studying countless martial arts, filling her days with fights against skilled humans and other other Yokai of Japan.

A great many number of human years passed and Matsu found herself an accomplished fighter. During that time the nation of Japan became embroiled in a great number of wars, including two "World Wars". It was during the second of the two "World Wars" that Matsu witnessed terrible acts of destruction. She became mistrustful, if not somewhat hateful towards militant human organizations after seeing the horrific things done by both the foreign invaders and the native people of her land.

With two cities reduced to ashen graves in brilliant blasts of light and heat, Matsu saw fit to leave Japan and seek what the rest of the world had to offer. On her adventures she was joined by her young sister who was eager to tag along. Decades past and upon reaching her 100th birthday Matsu gained her second tail. Her growth and tales of her fighting prowess earned her the attention of a wonderful mate. At the same time her sister had learned enough from her to go off on her own.

For a time everything for Matsu seemed perfect.

Then one day it all came crashing down.

Matsu encountered a strange being, a werewolf of a most fearsome and viscous demeanor. She came to blows with the werewolf in a clash for her life. Though she survived her fighting ability simply wasn't enough and her arm was cut clean from her body. The loss of the limb destroyed the style she had developed over nearly 100 years and crushed her fighting capability. Her humiliation and near death shamed her mate, causing him to leave her for good.

Around the same time Matsu received word that her sister, who was traveling with a doctor had died under tragic circumstances.

Abandoned, broken, humiliated, and deprived of those she loved Matsu returned to Japan. She settled down in a forest thinking only of escaping the sorrow and sadness she was burdened with. A few years passed and her heart remained wounded.

Then one day, while walking through the woods, Matsu came upon a little girl crying on a forest path near a bench. Comforting the girl, assuming her to simply be lost, Matsu led her out of the woods and tried to help her find her parents. After just a little bit of searching it became clear that her parents had abandoned her and left the country all together.

Unwilling to leave the human girl to fend for herself Matsu took the child in, giving her the name "Brown" to replace the insulting name given to the child at birth. For years the Kitsune lived in the woods with the sickly child. Teaching her, feeding her, and helping her to grow strong while giving her the love she seemed to have been deprived of.

Having Brown in her life made Matsu able to forget the pain of losing her arm, her sister, and the pain of losing her mate and the chance to have a child of her own.

Years passed and Brown eventually sought to leave and travel the world to grow stronger. Matsu allowed her to go with her blessing and a small mountain of packed lunches.

With Brown's absence however came all the doubts, fears, and shame that Matsu had tried so hard to bury with her new found happiness. It became impossible for her not to relive the moment of her humiliating defeat and the death of her sister. Worse yet is Matsu remembered that the little girl she had come to care for was human, and as a Kitsune she was capable of outliving her several dozen times over.

Seeking some means of dashing her fears Matsu began to retrain herself to fight with one arm. Years have passed since that decision and now Matsu finds herself ready to step onto the world stage once more. Eager to support brown and seek a remedy for the pain in her life.

FIGHTING STYLE
Before the loss of her arm Matsu fought with a fluid mix of martial arts (and similar sects of fightIng) that she had come to learn over her many years of study and travel. With the loss of her right arm however she became unable to use the style effective as it required the use of two functional arms.

Working hard however Matsu has worked to salvage what she learned and re-apply it to her current state of being.

Now Matsu fights using her remaining left arm, legs, her ability to manipulate wind, and her innate kitsune trickery. Her fighting style is fast and relies on precise defence penetrating strikes, deception, and agility. Striking where her enemies are most vulnerable and ‘widening’ those vulnerabilities to abuse further.

SPECIAL MOVES & TECHNIQUES







SUPER MOVES

■ [KAMIKAZI DIVINE WIND OF DESTRUCTION!]

As a typical vampire, Vlad has pale white skin and glowing crimson eyes. His hair is a raven black and his face sports a hint of stubble. The fangs are immediately noticable. His physique his tall and lean, standing at 6'5".

Vlad makes sure to always dress appropriately. He often wears some form of formal attire, usually a black suit with a red tie. Sometimes he wears an overly large-brimmed sunhat, and of course, always wearing a long black and red cape with a cowl.

Vlad usually has a facade of grace. He is a formal gentleman; often polite, or tries to be. Regardless, underneath that facade is a chaotic individual who certainly has no qualms with feeding off of the living, or messing with the wrong people. Immortality has made life, well, boring, and Vlad often entertains himself with mischief; sometimes harmless. There is an obvious, and perhaps, annoying sense of pride and confidence that Vlad always carries. Overconfident in both his own nature as 'the prince of the night', as well as considering himself to be a man of high class and wealth. Due to this Vlad looks upon less fortunate soul with (almost) a sense of pity. Mortals too. Almost, but, not enough for him to make a difference.

Being a man of dignity, Vlad distastes getting himself dirty. Whether it be combat, or merely feeding, Redrum tries to be as clean and as professional as possible.

When he is expected to duel or to otherwise get busy, he will often wear his 'duelist uniform' which is just a glorified black and gold fencer uniform (Which is also sun proof):

Snooty
Arrogant
Chaotic (Chaotic neutral)
Mischievous
Expensive-taste
Controlling
Manipulative
Liar
Regal
Flirtatious
Lazy

The reporter walked into the mansion, taking nervous steps on the clean tiled floor. The cameraman behind her was just as cautious. As they walked, they couldn't help but notice the servants around them. Maids and butlers, all with a lifeless expression; dead eyes watching them as they moved further. The room was cold, and the motionless servants didn't help to lift the atmosphere.

"Are you sure this isn't a prank?" Said the cameraman, having attempted to turn his fear into frustration.

"He gave us an invitation in person, remember? It's un-" She snapped back, but was cut off as a sudden motion caught both of their attention. Before them, between the double staircase of the foyer, rose a swirling mass that had seemed to swoop down on the floor from the shadows. Taking shape from the swirl of motion, later revealed to be his cape, was the man of the hour himself.

"Greetings, welcome to my humble abode." Vlad bowed politely before his guests, dressed in his typical evening suit. "I hope my loyal subjects haven't bothered you." He said, his voice was almost enchanting, yet there in lied waited something sinister in his tone; like a serpent.

He snapped his fingers, and the handful of maids and butlers suddenly came to life. They seemed to carry on with their duties; moving furniture and decor, preparing drinks, and the like. Set up by several servants were a pair of expensive, decorative chairs with fine silk cushions, and a likewise rich couch of a black dyed fabric. Vlad had taken a seat on the sofa. Just as the reporter took a seat on one of the chairs, a maid approach to set up a tray with what appeared to be freshly served snacks; A glass of wine and miniature sandwiches.

The cameraman turned on his camera to film the two.

"So, what brings you to my estate, you'll have to forgive my poor memory."

"We um." She turned to the tray briefly to decide on whether taking a bite or not, before refusing. "Well you said you would tell the world where you came from, why you're here. Fans are dying to know after all, what's your story?"

He chuckled. "Fans? Story?" He waved his hand way in a dismissal motion.

"Oh you mortals and your, strange fascination with romanticizing monsters nowadays. 300 years ago you wouldn't see that kind of opinion out there." He sighed. "Ah but those days are over I'm afraid, very well, I shall tell you what I can remember.." He waved his hand in a dramatic motion as he began;

"You see, I was born into a royal family of, well, a kingdom of sorts. The name? I couldn't recall." He laughed, amusing himself. "Those kinds of details don't matter anymore anyway, I know it doesn't exist anymore. Anyway; so, of course, this small little civilization there, I think it was somewhere in east Europe; we were...let's say not the most liked kind of rulers out there. Sure, we didn't needlessly kill anyone. But there were complaints from the commoners about corruption, wickedness, greed, what have you. And sure, I suppose those complaints were...not far from the truth. I can't remember my father, I knew he was there, I knew what he did, but well; I suppose I just didn't care enough for him to remember. My mother, well, she was the one who spoiled me when I was a young one, I remember that face well enough. My sister, well...I suppose I have her to thank to be where I am today.

You see, I suppose it all started when famine struck our lands. Rain hadn't fall, the soil had become ill, and well; life was miserable. For them, not us, of course. While they starved outside, poor and with little food, we hoarded the land's boon. Fresh pig, mutton, mm...I almost missed that taste." He trailed off for a moment.

"Mr. Dalv?"

"Oh, pardon me."

"Is that your real name?"

"What is?"

"Dalv."

"Oh, no." He chuckled, waving away her thought. "No, my real name was far less suitable I suppose. I abandoned it sometime ago."

"Oh, well..."

Vlad took the advantage of her silence to continue. "Where was I? Oh yes, you see; They didn't like that fact too much, the commoners. They decided to have a riot of sorts. Pitchforks and torches, all that nonsense. Of course the guards initially had their uses, but I guess many of them joined the crowd since I, well, I suppose my father forgot to treat them well." He snickered. At the time I was about as old as, well, how you see me now. But still, I wasn't in charge. No I'd be on merry strolls enjoying my privileges and flirting with the local beauties. My carefree life was taken away by my reckless family."

"So you resent them?" She asked.

"Heavens no." He once again made a dismissal hand gesture, scoffing at the idea. "If it wasn't for them I wouldn't be here now. You see, because of this predicament, we were..desperate. My sister, now, I didn't know what she was up to. But it was revealed on that day that she was well versed in the occult. Now, I don't know if she was a witch, but I'm sure on any other day she could have been burned for that fact. Anyway, with her connections and my...father's..." He seemed to hesitate for a moment, a flash of anger briefly in his expression, as if a sudden memory popped into view. He played it off with a brief snicker. "My father had no idea what he was doing when he thrashed his daughter about saving them. The price she insisted was too high. Well, she couldn't do anything against an angry and desperate man losing power; so she had summoned a vampire."

A smile curled on his lips, revealing his fangs. "Shocker, I know."

"But it gets better. You see, the vampire in question was happy to deal with our little problem; But my father gave him a..well a bit too stern of an attitude. He didn't know his place. So our little blood-sucking friend wasn't in the best of mood to help us. More importantly, it was a bloody vampire; I mean who the hell.." He sighed. "I'm getting off topic. Anyway, our blood-sucking hero explains to us that he will grant our wish if we are willing to sacrifice one of our own. Sure enough, immediately without consent, my father picks out my sister. Now, as the vampire explained that he must literally stand his own damned child in the back; I was well...I didn't like that much really. Mother well, I'm sure she didn't want that, but she didn't interfere. So, I picked up a decorative sword from the wall, and used it to strike my father's back while he was busy on my sibling. Of course he was shocked, as was I, that was my first....kill. So to speak. While all this was happening, mind you, the revolt was reaching our doors. The vampire, having accepted the father as the sacrifice, took to dealing with the first wave of an angry mob. I don't remember the details, I recall my mother screaming; going into a corner. I remember my father trying to mouth something, struggling through rage and shock. 'Course I don't remember what he said. What I do remember, was my sister. Upon seeing the massacre she tried to stop what she had summoned. She drew a knife and stabbed the vampire's chest. I think she was going for the heart, but apparently she missed. The dagger didn't seem to go through his flesh that much either...Anyway, the angry fiend turned around and gutted her like a pig.

Now you can, imagine the shock of those events. The trauma, and all. I completely forgot who that monster was with how...well I'm not sure how to describe how I felt. It's been so long since I felt such emotion, and it was too complicated to wave it away as angry. No it was mixed with all..sorts..of delicious emotions. Rage, Fear, Shock, terror, panic....Ah, yes a lot of terrible things going on off at once. It made me dumb enough to attack the thing, and obviously my efforts were in vain. At this point most of the riot had realized what was happening after their first wave had been massacred, and began to scream in terror back to the village. The chaos had set the castle ablaze, I remember that, because I distinctly recall the fire twisting light and shadows around this...monstrous figure. It towered over me, scoffed, and I believe it bit my neck. It had to have had, because if he didn't, I wouldn't be here. Regardless, There was no period I remember in between; like sleeping and waking. I awoke, to find myself surrounded in a closed space of wood. It didn't take long to realize I had been buried alive. Except, I wasn't really alive, now was I?" He grinned again at the woman, giving her a wink with his crimson eyes.

The gesture sent a shiver down her spine, but she continued. "That..that must been when you turned then."

"Correct." He responded. "My skin was pale, I had no pulse; I was cold, but not..really. Numb perhaps. Anyway, I freaked out and struggled for a bit. Eventually I discovered the unnatural strength I had which allowed me to claw my way out of the coffin and the earth. I awoke in the graveyard, and returned to my castle. It had been well, 3 days since I died. According to what I learned. My subjects were shocked to see me. I was more shocked, to see my mother's, the queen's, battered corpse hanging from the front of the castle gate; sweet dry blood staining the stone bricks. Well they called us a monster in life, so I decided to give them what they said I was."

His grin faded back into a smile, though it still felt sinister to the woman, who now nervously took a sip of the wine. "Well, the few that I liked I turned into the loyal subjects you see around this manner. Eternal like me, but not quite vampires. Pity they don't have any free will to entertain me with."

"Wow that is um...fascinating, Mr. Dalv. But why are you here now, so far away from home?"

"Money, fame, social status. Trivial things mind you, and of course, living in a damp old castle isn't really a lifestyle fit for a prince, is it?" He said as he slowly moved off from the couch.

The woman was speechless as she was staring into Vlad's eyes. Like it was some kind of trance. The cameraman noticed this, and turned his camera off. He tried to snap her awake, shouting "hey!" But our dashing young vampire had closed the distance between them in unnatural speed. His cold white fingers gripped the man's throat, cutting his voice off from any further sound. "Shhh.." He whispered as his nails elongated into claws, drawing blood from small cuts that were made on his neck from the transformation of the fingers. Drawing his fangs, he bit into the cameraman's neck, who dropped his camera from the attack. He was sucked dry, while the woman remained in a trance. "Hmm.." He said as he dropped the corpse. "Well, I think this will make a fine addition to the auditorium. What do you think...what was your name again Darling?"

"Mary." She said in a tranced voice, as if she was talking in her sleep.

"Ah, a pleasure to make your acquaintance my dear." He spoke, before taking a bite out of her neck as well.

Vlad as a high class gentleman, doesn't like to get dirty or expend to much effort. However he is not opposed to a proper duel or challenge. Wielding a rather long rapier which he has dubbed 'The Impaler', Vlad strikes with swift jabs while sustaining a comfortable distance between himself and his opponent. Drawing blood, usually from his foe, allows him to use his vampiric powers further to his advantage.

His vampiric physiology has given him numerous supernatural advantages. While the vampiric ki he possesses is in itself relatively weak; he is still unnaturally strong and durable. He can regenerate effectively (So long as his heart isn't destroyed). Able to see in the dark, possessing a strong sense of smell, and being tied to necromancy are all traits of a vampire Vlad can exploit. His 'art' practices mostly on blood manipulation. Blood that has been separated from a body can be manipulated into various ways by the moves below. This blood can be his own blood or another's, but if it is an outside source it cannot be manipulated while connected to one's body and ki. Meaning the blood used must be outside the body and drawn out such as a puddle of blood or on his sword. This form of blood manipulation is fueled and controlled by his vampiric ki.