Resounding Provocation - Vampires

[Katelyn]

OOC

Vampiric Council Chair - Elder

Name: Seraphine Iscariot

Age: 1807 (Turned at 21)

Species: Vampire

Gender: Female

Human Appearance:

Picture when Human
Picture during Crusades

Seraphine stands 5' 8, her raven's hair is seemingly woven of silk and stops just below her belt line, long and full of soft curves its rarely found hanging, but rather pulled into a tight bun as women of the first century understood their hair to be intimate in nature. Dark sea green eyes are filled with experience and wonders of the past, but quickly turn completely black before she feeds or when her emotions are heightened. Her frame is feminine and yet lithe like a dancer in structure. She rarely smiles, but finds herself with a calm facade that exudes control and dominance no matter her audience. Her skin remains olive colored from life and her features that of middle eastern royalty.

Beast Appearance:


Personality:
Dominant and direct, unfriendly and quite a commanding presence. She cares not for friends or acquaintances and would rather drain you dry than deal with you or converse over something meaningless and abstract.

Brief History:
Being born the only child to a poor family in Jericho at the turn of the century, Sera's life was a picture of continuous struggle and back breaking labor from the moment she learned to carry herself up right. Never getting access to anything more than the occasional scripture teachings by the scribes at the local synagogue, she was unable to read or write and didn't communicate very well seeing that her parents rarely spoke to her, her mother ashamed of only being able to give her husband a daughter. Their family name would die with Sera and their worth in the community had already suffered greatly because of that and their inability to conceive another child. Sera spent a lot of time in the village away from her parents, her friends becoming the only comfort she was afforded in life other than her ability to sing beautifully and create stories with her imagination that left the other kids in her village in awe.

Much to her dismay, at the age of thirteen, her father and mother pledged her to be wed to the son of Simon Iscariot, the local synagogue treasurer. Her father believed the union would bring their family not only security, but wealth and standing among the Sanhedrin as well. She was a tool to trade and a beautiful one at that, the older Judas falling desperately in love with the young girl and trying to win her heart with no avail. After a few years and no children to show for it Sera believed herself cursed and believed that she would suffer the same shame that her mother did. Willing to try anything, she begged Judas to come with her to the city center in Jericho the day a great profit would pass by for he was capable of miracles. Judas failed to believe her claims, but would follow her to the ends of the earth and as such took her. While in the crowd waiting their turn, the prophet from Nazareth called out to Judas and bid him come. Sera stood in shock, watching as her husband agreed to go and promised to return to her and return to her he did.

Only he was a different man, a broken man with betrayal and sorrow written in the lines on his face. She tried to comfort him, but he could not find peace and left one day to take his own life, his treachery to harsh to bear. She never asked what he'd done or tried to force the details from him, but on the last day they embraced she followed him quietly to the edge of Potters Field and wept as he hung himself, the earth opening up and turning the world into darkness. Little did she know as she rushed toward him to cut the rope that he'd become her greatest nightmare and the grantor of a curse so dark and deadly that heaven would no longer accept her and hell beckoned her return.

Many years after walking beside Judas as monsters of the night, the creator of the great hunters of the church finally took her beloved from the waking world and left her to rule as the eldest of her kind - alone and with the choice to make more or forever stay in silence. She vowed to avenge Judas' death and has worked hard to kill James' familial (Jesus brother - first hunter) generations until no more blood of his veins existed. Today remains one male and one female and she will be their end.

[GambolMuse]

Name: Walter Cromwell

Age: 190 (Turned at 42)

Species: Vampire

Gender: Male

Human Appearance:

Walter Cromwell

Born in raised in Europe, Walter is fair skinned and has thick, dark brown hair to boot. Relatively short and parted down the middle, his hair reaches to the nape of his neck and is neatly trimmed around his ears. A few strands fall over his creased brow, hanging loosely above his cool blue eyes. His face is relatively taught for a man of his age, only a few wrinkles showing in most places, with a hard jawline and thin mouth that's almost always contorted into a frown. He stands at a healthy six feet two inches, and his musculature shows he is in fairly good healthy, or he had once been. It's common to see him in a black coat with a gray wool tunic beneath, dark colored trousers and boots.

Beast Appearance: Very similar to an Underworld vampire. His skin becomes gray and tough as leather, wings sprout from his back, his features become elongated and his canines grow larger as well.

Personality:
Like any vampire, Walter is exceptionally good at deceiving and luring his prey. He's rather keen on picking up nuances about those he stalks, often using their desires or even fears against them. While crafty he doesn't enjoy holding advantages over others heads, having a sense of honor and fairness that perpetuated since his life as a human. He uses his tools when he must feed, but refuses to do so otherwise.

As a former military man he is prompt, direct and carries himself with a sense of pride. He has no issue with taking orders from superiors, and at the same time no issue with dealing them out as well. To a certain degree he is relatively indifferent towards the death of someone, rarely caring even. Should it be someone in his own coven however he becomes a fair bit enraged, and pity be on the person responsible for the fallen member's demise, as more often than not he'll fly into an insatiable rage.

In normal circumstances, when not feeding or in action, he is often quiet and brooding. His replies in conversations are short, as often times he has little to say or offer, being a bit lackluster in regular conversation. It may even be safe to say he often seems bored with what's going on around him, and to a degree one would be correct. He's relatively young for a vampire, but has seen a fair bit of the world. There is very little that interests him, hence why the peak of his expression is during busy events.

Brief History: Walter is a native to Scotland, Edinburgh to be precise. Born in 1640 during the reign of King Charles I he experienced quite a bit growing up. The Wars of the Three Kingdoms, a battle fought over the unification of Scotland, Ireland and England by one ruler. Taking up the bulk of his early childhood it was not uncommon to be caught in the middle of the fighting. Despite the constant conflict around them his life was fairly stable, with perhaps the exception of his father being away often. His father was blacksmith, and as such was often busy away at work, toiling to supply their local forces. The first ten years of his life then were dominated by going between helping at home and apprenticing with his father, trying to make both his home life and his family's business work.

After the war ended in 1660 Walter, at 20 years old, decided to enlist in the military, the royal navy to be precise. Having never been outside of Edinburgh let alone on a ship it was quite the culture shock for him. Given a year however he adapted, being assigned to a gunboat amongst a few dozen other men. In the span of the next few years there was relatively little action, the bulk of their time at sea being patrolling trade routes with the occasional pirate attack here and there. Nonetheless Walter enjoyed the freedom of being on the open sea, and opted to remain in the military as long as he could, not being terribly fond of his father's line of work as a blacksmith anyways. Even with other conflicts arising, such as the Glorious Revolution of 1668, he never saw any real warfare. That did not mean that his service went without danger.

In the year 1672, at 32 years of age Walter was finally shown the horrors of combat for the first time. Prior to this he and his crew, many of which had been regular faces over the years, had been lucky. With some of the best equipment in the world and exceptional training far and few between could dare challenge their might at sea. As fate would have it they made a mistake one day, taking a Spanish merchant ship and its escort, a schooner, as pirate vessels. In truth the flags had been lowered for repair, and that fact had been overlooked by the crew. Thinking the ships to be trespassing they opened fire, almost instantly sinking the merchant vessel with ease. The schooner however had avoided fire, and subsequently returned it with more cannons and speed at its disposal. Whether by a show of mercy or by running out of ammunition the assault stopped, and after scuttling the remnants of the merchant ship the schooner left. Walter and his crew had suffered greatly under the assault, losses nearing seventy five percent. The ship somehow remained afloat, though a mast lay in the sea and the deck littered with corpses and shredded material. Knowing they had to return to England and being concerned about having corpses aboard Walter and the survivors had to meticulously dump each body overboard to prevent their rotting. A few men had been unfortunate enough to not die immediately, having to be put to death by Walter as well to spare them the agony of a slow demise. A shadow of their former glory the ship limped home, its crews heads hung low in shame.

From that day on there was an unshakable, almost consuming fear of death that gripped Walter. Yet his long time of service in the crown's name refused to let him shirk his duties, and with a recent promotion to captain of his own vessel he certainly could not turn away now. Now forty years of age and a seasoned maritime traveler he returned to his duties on-board a newly furnished brig. Despite his experience, the wealth of equipment and trained crew and his superior vessel Walter was still haunting by an ever-impending demise. He was getting older, a fact that had not eluded him at all, and as the days wore on his tension only served to grow. To his men he was a strong, determined and just captain, but on the inside he was as timid as a young boy in the dark. He had to find a way to cheat death, whatever the cost.

As fate would have it he'd have his saving grace in just a few short years. With no real cause for concern amongst the seas Walter and his crew spent a fair amount of time docked in various cities around Europe. During their stay in France the crew is gathered at a local tavern, enjoying drink and song during their time off. In their merriment a woman approaches the beleaguered captain, offering him a 'good time' with a seductive smile. Never married and usually stuck with naught but other men Walter agrees, leaving the tavern with the cheers and shouts of his mates. He wasn't quite sure what to expect of this night, but what came to follow certainly wasn't in his expectations. The night in question remains hazy to this day, though the pain that beset him is as clear as day. He awoke the following day, lucid and weak from whatever had gone on the night before. He didn't feel right, he felt sick and like he was dying. Forlorn he laid in the alley he had awoken, unable to move much at all. When night fell he finally crept out, finding himself a stall with food to try and get some nourishment. It was fruit, probably spoiled, but he scarcely cared. As he ate the owner appeared, furious that his goods were being eaten by an "urchin". When Walter saw the man something overtook him, a primal and vicious desire. In a flash he was upon the owner, feeding furiously off of his blood until he was nearly a prune. It was at this moment he realized with horror what he was, that he'd become a monster. With no idea where to go he stole off into the night, refusing to accept his new reality.

[Anima]

Name:
Petra von Rustenford

Age:
211 (Turned when she was 24)

Species:
Vampire

Gender:
Female

Human Appearance:

Petra von Rustenford

Due to her germanic descent, Petra is taller than the average human. She received the brown, voluminous, straight hair from her mother while receiving ice blue eyes from her father. On most occasions, she’s typically wearing a strict business-professional attire or fashion which are typically seen worn by the general rich and wealthy. Casual attire is typically reserved for when Petra’s in absolute solitude.

Beast Appearance:
Underworld bat-esque appearance.

Personality:
Deceptive and extremely manipulative. She takes pride in her ways of making her thralls squirm as she quenches her parched throat that appeases her insatiable thirst. As violent as she is with her servants, she is equally as adept in keeping a sociable face — particularly in the presence of her elders.

She’s careful with her words as she says what she means and doesn’t say a word more. Often times, she gets annoyed when people can’t perform what is expected of them. To her, applying to all she interacts with, if one cannot complete what task is given to them, they become useless pieces that need to be replaced. In the manner of how they’re disposed depends to each individual.

In another life, from a time that Petra barely remembers, glimpses of her city where she still lived in her parents do come back at moments. They serve as an anchor to her past. The one slim barrier, which keeps her monstrous self at bay and preserves the sparse merciful moments she experiences at times. However, no matter how strong the emotions, nothing can stop the curse she received long ago.

Brief History:
Having immigrated from the Germanic lands of Europe, Petra and her family settled in the colonial Massachusetts bay colony. Like many of the other children, she grew up as a catholic christian, practiced lady-like etiquette of that befitting English women, and involved herself with her father’s merchantry business, which began as a humble trading post but grew to continental dealings.

Strong relations were underway as she was engaged to a prominent English family against her will but from the desire of her father. In time, she grew to love her fiancé. The day of the wedding was closely moving upon them when the calamity struck. It was this act that would spark the future events of what would be called the Salem Witch Trials.

Believing that these creatures belonged only in the fantasy realm of the human mind, Petra encountered a man when she was returning from a night engagement. When the man asked her for help, and she obliged his request, she was taken and turned as the beast quenched its thirst on her blood. Instead of killing her, she was spared. The monster left no time for explanation, as it left. She was found and brought to the hospital.

Her recovery was short, but her turning was not kind. Having not reined in her impulse, she took the life of her future husband and whatever servants stood nearby. The craze of the feeding — and the nature in how it was preformed — helped substantiate fanatics who claimed she was a witch. One who performed rites through the blood of the innocent.

From thereafter, she abandoned her true identity and worked to begin anew. Time passed as the sins of the world caused Petra to loathe and reject. With her vulnerability to sunlight, her needs of constant blood, and the danger of people knowing her identity has changed the girl. To survive as a monster, she became a monster. Taking control of her family’s business, which was now stationed in England, manipulation and deception acted as her sword and shield.

Soon joining the ranks of her own kind, the old Petra is gone while a crazed, ruthless new one has assumed its place. To survive, this change was necessary.

[Katelyn]

FOR CLUMSY:

(Imagine the pic with darker hair)



Name: Lucius Blake

Age: Turned in his mid twenties, at some point in the early dark ages.

Species: Vampire

Gender: Male

Human Appearance: Tall and gaunt, the ancient paths of many immortal years written into the cold blue of his eyes, he retains a reservedly modest appearance in dress and taste. His bearing imperious, the contrast between pale skin and dark hair – long, though kempt – imparts the severity typical of his kind.

Beast Appearance: A hideous creature of mottled reds and browns; clawed feet and a barbed tail lend an almost reptilian appearance to this monstrosity – the skin is pebbly in texture, blotched here and there with leprous discoulorations or the trailing gouges of ancient wounds long since healed. While the torso is largely humanoid, the leathery expanse of bat-like wings and fanged maw would swiftly end all comparisons to anything vaguely human.

Personality: A mixture of facades, Lucius is rumoured even amongst his own kind to be a strangely twisted example of Vampiric immorality and hedonistic tendencies. Whilst managing to maintain the facade of a wealthy – if reclusive and faintly eccentric landowner – Lucius' nightly forays into the darker side of his nature reveal a creature who has long since lost sight of any shred of his own humanity.

Brief History:

At the early beginnings of his distant past Lucius lived as the bastard son of a minor noble of the decaying Roman Empire; his time as a human was to be only short lived, and though he himself cannot seem to remember the events of his turning – either that, or he simply refuses to speak of it – his memory of the many centuries since have remained almost untouched despite the years between. While his early years as a vampire were marked with the savage debaucheries of a beast unrestrained, his tastes – even if retaining their gruesome flavour – gradually receded to more of a pastime and less of a livelihood.

Preferring to dwell on the edge of most significant events rather than ever playing any central role, Lucius evaded much of the Church's scrutiny despite engaging in some of the more heinous crimes of the dark past – ever ready to allow others to slip and somehow take the blame for his own actions, his name remained largely unknown to the hunters of the time – save perhaps as an enigmatic shadow, the elusive disease that seemed to shift and flow with he change in time, sweeping through Europe as whim and fancy took him, before finally fading into quiet obscurity in the New World just as the Church finally disbanded the last of the Hunters and turned a blind eye to the creatures of the night.

But wheels are turning again, and for Lucius the glories of the past are only ever a moment's thought away – age and time have not rendered him complacent, and those urges of his youth were merely repressed, but never extinguished. Perhaps the thrill of the hunt awaits once more.