"Pan Dushan is a deep sleeper,
Wake him up - and you'll sleep deeper!"Name: Dushan Krishkov Karadžić
Age: Roughly 1300 Years (Very Roughly)
Appearance: Throughout his long and illustrious history, Dushan looked very differently, adopted many different dresses and hairstyles, changed his features in many drastic ways, yes always remained the same in essence.
He is best described as "monstrous" or "titanic", looking like a veritable eight-foot tall mountain to which like craggy cliffs cling slabs of deformed muscle full to bursting with powerful old blood, bestowing unto him an almost deific strength he used to utmost limit in many terrible wars, which he deeply enjoyed. His arms are thick like wine-barrels and disproportionately long for his body, allowing him to swing his deadly two-hander with wild abandon while remaining safely beyond most enemies' reach during the Crusades. His neck is wide and powerful like that of a mighty bull, his legs are like two ancient immovable pillars when planted firmly on the earth and his chest is at very least twice as wide as that of any master athlete - yet in his movements there is no lazyness or slugishness typical for men of his stature. Propelled by aeons of experience, mystical powers of blood, power of will and lust for violence, Dushan is deceptively swift in motion and quick on his feet, moving with startling speed when the circumstances require it. Such a long history, however, left many marks even on a body as mighty as his - every inch of his flesh is a monument to the brutality and violence of the world, deep marks, burns and wounds so horrible not even his undead physique could heal them fully covering every inch of living flesh, ancient scars lying on scars in a bizzare and nauseating pattern. His face, surprisingly, is almost completely unmarred - his wide and jolly big-nosed face, unnaturally ruddy for a vampire is only marked by a scattering of smallpox scars he often hides through makeup.
Personality: Throughout such a long existence as his, anyone and not just Dushan would've changed countless worldviews, philosophies and outlooks, going thoroughly insane in the process. As of now, the elder vampire merrily slogs through the existence, treating it as one big stage for him to play on. adopting whatever persona and attitude he fancies, perfecting the act and living into the character for decades before abandoning it in favor of an entirely different one - yet, as the oldest members of the family know, Dushan's mind was not at all dulled by a millenium of use, it's simply that... at certain times, he needs some time to warm up and choose between the dozens and hundreds of perspectives that he has on any possible issue, from war and violence to most sublime philosophical questions. Ultimately, Dushan long, long undeath has taught him that the only thing he can be sure of is that everything is completely subjective - thusly, his sole goal in life is to chase after subjectively positive feelings and emotions. For the entire time even his oldest relatives knew him he was nothing but kind and most caring towards them - but Dushan's unpredictable nature in all other matters cannot not unnerve those who witness it. He finds as much pleasure and satisfaction in purehearted charity and chaste friendship as in tortures and perversions that'd mark him as a horrible deviant even by the loosest standards in the world. Who knows what sort of horrible things might happen if that old, that unimaginably powerful eldritch monstrosity finally looses interest in playing house with his bloody spawn? After all, the way in which Dushan inherited the throne from the previous head of the family are shrouded in great mystery and a great amount of deaths, both those of humans and vampires - yet, seemingly, the final confrontation between then-younger Dushan and the old king was completely bloodless and peaceful, unlike the events that led to it, even though there were absolutely no bystanders who could witness it. He did not reach - and held - his current position by being a harmless old madman, that is for certain. Who can guess what horrible powers does his sturdy frame conceal - apart from obvious physical strength and almost complete indestructibility?
Dushan's current persona, which he took up roughly at the time of french Reign of Terror is that of a jolly, rapacious and happily violent bon vivant. He is competition and hubris personified, embodying many of the best and worst aspects of errant knighthood in a single incredibly massive, hulking frame. He is shameless and proud of everything he is and everything he does, oft impulsively indulging in his every primal urge, seeking immediate gratification no matter how inappropriate it might be. He is fuelled by a boundless and jovial vitality that allows him to smash through anything between him and his desires, for he knows that forbidden fruit tastes sweetest - yet there is not a single fraction of actual greed or selfishness in his gigantic blazing heart and his mind is never plagued by hatred, envy or other unwholesome thoughts - Dushan is not bad or evil, but simply larger than life, not only in terms of sheer physical size but in every other respect. When treading over bodies and interests of others in search of his goal, when draining a dozen unfortunate souls at once, enthralled by their beauty, when starting a murderous brawl simply because someone dared him to, he holds no spite for those he crushes - he simply does not notice them, living in a moment, caring for this particular time he spends on earth to feel the best, he is unconcerned by rampant destruction his presence often brings for he does not consider anything but the present, a satiated serenity of a well-fed old bear that is often mistaken for flippant, arrogant largesse and stupidity.
He is stubborn and willful indeed, butha despite that, as was said, not at all cruel or evil, instead being simply ignorant and oblivious to the pains of other beings - his pride allows nothing to stand in the way of his goals, few and shallow though they often are, crushing all who'd oppose him with overwhelming and brutal power - but unlike many others of his kind, does it without their sadistic pleasure. Surprisingly, such bevior makes for a great difference, as throughout the last four centuries he amassed throughout the world a great amount of true companions and faithful battle-brothers instead of envious valets and sychophantic subordinates and is able to be kind, merciful and generous without any ulterior motive - indeed, when someone finally manages to capture his attention and direct it towards the horrible collateral damage he causes while living, Oberon is immediately overtaken by earnest, honest grief and guilt, ready and willing to mend his wrongs, just to forget about that the moment he rides away from the people whose lives he has broken and then, to the best of his ability, fixed again.
Competition and challenge especially rouse him, for he finds ultimate joy in trampling imitators and parading his awesome might - which is why lately he spends a lot of time lightheartedly bullying his kin in hopes of starting a little fight and then rewards those to whom he uniformly and affectionately refers to as "little sucklings" for their bravery in standing up to him.
Bio: Dushan's background is shrouded in great mystery, in large part due to his own fuzzy memories of his early life and undeath and because at the time not many people really bothered to write down history or track the passage of time. Even his name is not his own but that of a long dead polish landlord he had killed and impersonated after crawling out of a shallow grave somewhere near Krakow. He distinctly remembers a short and uneventful time of living on a farm before being sold by his parents and spending his youth in a brothel before being taken away by some mysterious customers and then it's all a blur - Byzantine Empire in it's prime, ruled over in secrecy by a sect of benevolent undying scholars who drank blood of animals in order to not offend the mortals, him and his brave knights sinking into the freezing water of Peipus lake as slavic infidels looked down at them through the thick ice, a wretched dirty cave in the lush green woods of Shri Lanka from which he walked out into the sun when he first tired of existing, him lying in mud and bone and blood of Ypres inhaling mustard gas with full lungs and a happy smile, him learning the secrets of daywalking from shrouded figures smelling of brimstone and sin, him digging a grave for millions of people slaughtered like cattle, him executing dissidents on the frozen earth of russian north, looking at towers of skulls in Cambodia - many, many different memories like pictures in an album, becoming brighter and quicker but somehow even less distinct as they move towars the modern times. He rarely dwells on it unless his children want to hear an interesting story, instead prefering to happily explore the various recreational activities that the mortal world pumps out so swiftly nowadays. Every new bauble that catches his eye he immediately explores - Dushan's personal chambers are filled to bursting with new books, games, movies, weapons and clothes produced by mortals as he refuses to let the amount of chaff and silliness produced by the world to prevent him from discovering the worthy pearls of perfection and thoroughly enjoy them.
Likes:
- Marylin Monroe
- Russian Silver Age Poetry
- Indulging His Nature
- Domineering
- Philosophizing
- Fencing
- Mounted Hunting
- Crucifications
- Intimate Emotional&Physical Torture
- Rena's Singing
Dislikes:
- B+ Blood
- Catholicism
- Saracens
- Lack Of Drive And Self-Invented Purpose In People
- Mulled Wine
- Dealing With Inconveniencing Yet Ultimately Meaningless Consequences Of His Actions
- Commisioned Officers Of French Land Army, To The Last Fucking Man
