Post by Kate on Nov 3, 2009 19:18:22 GMT -6
Name: Gabriel de Bello Monte
Age: Seventeen years old; actual age is twenty.
Gender: Androgynous; more masculine.
Race: Vampire
Alliance: Prince of Fonce (dark)
Appearance: Here is a thing that every human dreams of being, what they would essentially kill for; to be young and beautiful forever. But no one knows what it truly is, whether it be male or female, because there is no distinction between the genders. It was born this way, it cannot be changed, not even with the strongest magic in all the land; the parents have tried vainly for such a cure. Gabriel is not bothered by this fact, it actually draws some maniacal power source from it and uses it as an advantage. Of course this makes Gabriel’s sexuality confusing, and the aspect of children seems out of the question for now, but it would suppose that even it is unsure which gender is preferably attractive.
This can wait for a later date to decide, not important enough at the moment.
It was not always a vampire, it was not always quite so lovely. It used to be the target of cruel jokes, teasing laughs, and was altogether tormented because it’s father allowed such things to happen. And it doesn’t forget, it doesn’t forgive either. At first glance you cannot tell how different it is, that there is no humanity left, and you would probably not glance again. But if you look, and really look hard, there is an essence inescapable. The skin is extremely white, made of marble or granite, and looks smooth to the touch; you’ll want to touch, they all want to touch it. There are no visible scars or blemishes on it’s body, but those would have all been healed instantly when it was turned into this new creature. All it’s finger nails are long, thick, and rather glassy in appearance and cannot be removed; they will only grow back to the length they were when it died.
Gabriel is wiry like an adolescent male, but shapely like a female. It doesn’t have any physical features like either gender, just a mixture of both that make it seems plain looking. It’ll never have a lot of muscles or bulk, but it can have weight issues at times which make it uncomfortable. It seems to hate it’s own body, it wants to rip it to pieces. But most humans find the form pleasing, nearly irresistible at times, and they ogle it now that it is beautiful. Sometimes they whistle and jeer, sometimes they try to rape it when it is alone in some dark street at night; it has grown a festering hatred of humans. They are repulsive and lustful of things they can’t have. It has long, clean lines and petite bird bones that make it seems so very light -- so easy to over power and throw down into the dirt, to smudge. It seems to stand around five feet and six inches, give or take.
The face is exquisite, like an angel’s should be. A perfect oval, with a bit of baby fat around the jaws to soften them up, and high cheek bones that give it an angled look. Gabriel’s nose is long, straight and set centered in it’s face and below it’s nose are gorgeous lips. They are shaded a mauve in color, the color of death, but are plump and kissable. Perfectly human looking, and have been used on several occasions to it’s liking. The eyes are round, bulbous almost in shape, but are lovely none the less. They are rimmed in thick, black eyelashes that are extremely long and tantalizing when batted in a flirtatious way. Their coloring is a warm gold, they seem to glow at times but that is just the intensity of the shades that they possess; as a human Gabriel’s eyes were a more somber hazel in color, but they changed to suit the vampire blood running through it’s veins.
On the head is an abundance of chocolate colored hair, a shade which resembles black but isn’t quite there. Back when it used to live in the sunlight the hair was like a prism of colors, a rainbow. You could see black, brown, and streaks of navy blue when the light was right. But now that it can no longer go into the sunlight it’s hair seems to be black, deep, obtuse black; there is no vibrancy to the color anymore. It hangs down to the shoulders, limp and gracefully framing that chalk white visage, and it keeps bangs to the left side of the face.
It keeps itself impeccably clean, every inch is scrubbed to perfection, and there is no inkling that it might consume blood. The hands have been scrubbed so much they’re rough, the skin peels easily. It also makes sure to clean the teeth, the devilish fangs, so that they are not stained by what it eats.
It likes fancy things to put on it’s body, it likes the ancient smells some clothes have. Sometimes it prefers to wear muted colors such as gray, blue, brown, and black, usually during hunting. It wears lose cotton tunics, tights that cling to those beautiful legs, and velvet capes that drape down to the ankles; the shoes are usually boots when it wears these sorts of outfits. When going to more lavish places such as parties or out on the town it chooses different clothing. Expensive breeches, silk shoes with silver buckles, and many different layering shirts. It would remind someone of the Victorian or Revolutionary time periods, very sophisticated.
Personality: Unlike most people in this dirty age of war and guts, it has an almost compulsive need to clean. To remove the shame, the sins, and the festering malevolence that seem to stain everything it can see. Some would say it was diseased, that it had Schizophrenia because it can be so obsessive over things; sometimes it mumbles to itself, seems to be in some type of argument as it cleans. It’ll scrub until the skin is raw, until it sees it’s own tainted blood spill onto the cleansed spot; which means it just has to start all over again. This makes it’s father furious, makes him angry at his ‘son’ who he rejects anyway for what it is -- a blemish on his record.
It has a habit of not speaking, keeping those succulent lips shut tight. It has been called a mute but knows that it just chooses not to speak, and when it actually does the words are cryptic or in some riddle. People don’t want to talk to it, they stay away because they are afraid of it. Gabriel blames his beauty because he is a vain, self centered creature who thinks these mortals do not deserve it. There is a love and hate relationship it has with itself, something not even it can explain. Only it can punish itself, loath itself, and it becomes rueful when others attempt these things. It wants people to love it, to want it, and to crave it when they lay their eyes upon it. Some would say it was an attention hog, that getting attention was all that mattered to it’s simple mind, and they would be too correct in that assumption. But it cannot help it with the abusive past it has suffered, and with all usual lustful eyes that seem to follow it around.
Sometimes it seems not to function correctly, like the limbs are not it’s own. That comes from being a vampire fledgling and the body is getting used to being so light, so free from the fleshy remnants. It can be numb sometimes, without any feeling in it’s fingers or toes which causes it to be unbalanced. Gabriel seems a little clumsy for a vampire, but is gaining strength all the time, growing more graceful with every night it spends alive. Soon it will be able to run at amazing speeds, have the strength of a thousand men, but for now those abilities are cut in half. It can read minds to an extent, but it doesn’t like to because then it knows what people are really thinking about it. Gruesome, boastful, sexual things that make it’s skin crawl like tiny bugs by the millions. That is why it feel so awkward in it’s own skin, why it want to be set free from this prison.
It doesn’t like to fight even though it has no problem with protecting itself, and not that it likes peace either. But fighting takes too much effort and it can be such a lazy creature, it would rather spend time doing what it wanted -- maybe that is the female bit poking through. Usually it fights with hands and teeth, it has no need for weapons to use against these mortals that hunt it. If it can it will flee from a fight, it will try to not destroy life when it doesn’t need to because it is not that evil; no matter what anyone else will say about it.
Gabriel gets jealous easily, be it with lovers or other things, such as being acknowledged as a god itself. It doesn’t take being second likely, it doesn’t want gods and goddesses set before it in the people’s eye. And it will tell anyone there are no gods watching over them, that it is a god itself to be loved, and that they should bow down at it’s glorious feet. It has blow ups all the time, screaming and throwing things with a passionate loathing.
There is a side to Gabriel that is quite gruesome, a side that likes decay and cruelty to a point of insanity. It seems drawn to anything that makes anyone else cringe. It’s interested in wounds, sores, and infected areas whether it is on animals or people. It can be very sarcastic sometimes, with snide remarks or jokes that it thinks are funny. It likes to dissect things in the basement or on the streets if it cane find them, and it collects smaller animal bones sometimes. When it was younger it would hurt animals, like stray dogs and cats, the occasional bird when it could catch them.
History: Gabriel de Bello Monte is it’s entire title that was given on date of birth, chosen by the mother with minor help from the father. They did not know the disorder the child had when it was born, but now the name seems to suit both genders just fine. It is older than it’s sister at twenty years but was frozen in time at seventeen, which makes him look equal or younger. It never liked it’s sister, they never got on well as they grew up with each other, she picked at it like everyone else. But there wasn’t anything it could do really, it was just a little baby lost in a sea of cruelty. At seven years old it was started in school, taught by sages and weaponry instructors, it would be the greatest war lord of them all they thought; but it refused such lessons, it wanted to be in theatre and dance, and it wanted to read and write. Who cared about horse riding, magic, and swords when there was so much to learn?
Of course they forced it to learn these things, which it failed miserably in. They made it feel dumb, lesser than everyone else, and sometimes they stuffed it into the dungeon until it begged it would do better. It can remember silence mixed with bleating cries, the way it’s throat would get raw from the shouting, how dark it could be down there in that cage. Guards are not nice people, no, they would touch it in vulgar places and whisper things into it’s bleeding ears until it feared everyone who came to see it. Not soon after these things began to happen did they realize what Gabriel was, that it was neither male or female, and it caused problems. Mother and Father tried to get help, but there was no help to be found; not in magic or surgery, nothing could save this soul. And so, they rejected it even more than before and they tried to keep it hidden.
At first it agreed to lay low, but then teenage years came. It wanted a companion like all the others it’s age, it wanted someone to want it again. Gabriel would dress in all the best clothes, it wouldn’t dare let anyone see it less than perfect, and it attracted both genders to it. When it was thirteen it met Armando Valdéz Marcos, a promising shape-shifter general from some land across the ocean; he was nineteen at the time they met. They got to know each other and became friends, Armando would teach it how to use a weapon in those awkward hands and in return Gabriel taught him how to read. The friendship was no secret, it’s father approved, but no one knew the secret feelings it harbored. It was falling in love with Armando, with every day it’s heart beat faster for the copper skinned shape-shifter. Finally, after months, Gabriel told Armando who released that he felt the same about the now fourteen year old. Secretly, piece by piece, they started a fatal romance.
One night Gabriel went into town to find it’s lover, it searched everywhere until it found Armando stumbling outside the tavern drunk. He had women surrounding him, no wonder, and a gleam in those chocolate eyes. And it knew, deeply, what would occur on this wintry night and it plunged a knife into his heart. It ran away, tears staining those moonlit cheeks, and hid itself in the darkest parts of the castle. It should have known better, all humans were the same, they went from one pretty flower to the next without thinking. Gabriel was broken and after a couple of days Armando noticed, he questioned why his love was so sad, and it told him what it had seen. It yelled, it told him to leave and never come back again unless he wanted to be torn apart; limb from limb, eye for eye, every hair pulled out singularly. Armando fled Fonce never to return. This made it bitter, calloused to anyone, until he came. He said his name didn’t matter, that he had been watching Gabriel for so long, and loved it with a passionate fire -- and this strange was lovely and wizened by time, everything the sweet little thing craved after.
So it let him meet with it at night, in the vineyard somewhere far off. They enjoyed each other for several months, maybe even a year, before he said he must leave for somewhere else. But he asked Gabriel, with those intensive crimson eyes, if it would like to meet him again in a hundred years or more. Gabriel felt confused, it could not live a hundred years, not even with magic! He explained himself, what he was, and how he planned to meet with Gabriel again if it would only take the immortal blood. In a rush of vainness and shallowness it accepted, and it felt the hot breath on it’s neck; felt the fangs enter the soft flesh of the neck, it felt the blood leaving. And then it remembers sucking, it remember tasting rust but loving every moment of the feeding, then when consciousness seemed to return it was alone. Sprawled out under the night sky, surrounding by vines and grapes, and he was gone again.
A hundred years, my love.
Abilities: It is a vampire, a child of the night, so naturally it possess their traits. They are not as powerful as an older vampire, but they grow the longer it lives; when it’s a thousand years old it should become nearly unstoppable. Of course it needs blood to survive, it doesn’t eat regular food. It can run faster than any human, but cannot go faster than the eye can see. Gabriel can also fly to an extent, small distances depending on how much it has eaten previously. It can see decently in the darkness with it’s eyes, and can also read minds a little; like a nudge or flitting words, not entire sentences.
Disabilities: Like any vampire it cannot come out during the day lest it be burned alive, when it’s a million years old it could possibly be able to stand sunlight but that’s a long time from now. Not much can harm something that’s dead, except for fire and the hands of another vampire; naturally the skin is tough, impenetrable by regular human weapons. It is also a little less intelligent, more irrational than normal. It sleeps in a crypt in the dungeon of the castle where nothing can come to harm it, but if an enemy found it sleeping during the day they could destroy the slumbering creature easily.
Sample: Rats littered the ground, their tiny bones stark white in the complete darkness of the lower dungeon room. There were no sounds, nothing could get into this room or get out if it were put here, and that was where they hid it. The king had decided it would be best, that it would be kept safe that far down below the surface, with strong men guarding the entrance with swords. Sometimes they would bring thieves or traitors down here, lock them up by the wrists against the stone wall for it to play with; those prisoners usually never made it out alive. It would come to them, whispering with sweet lips, and then take their blood for it’s own -- take their soul, heart, breath, memories. And it loved the feeling of that warm body against it’s chest, the thumping of the heart as it gave out, and the way the blood bounced against the veins. All sickeningly sweet music to it’s ears. But the prisoners were not afraid when it came, they were curious and filthy, they thought that it, too, was a prisoner of these hallow halls. Corrections were never fun, not even when the screaming started to rise against the darkness. They had built a crypt for it in the darkness, a stone bed. It was a perfect, roomy square with beautiful silk lining inside for it to lay against. There were carvings on the outside, the crypt used to be for old scrolls and clothes, things that needed to be watched carefully. The lid is solid, it is heavy, not even five men could lift it by themselves. This was the perfect thing for it to sleep in, for it to feel safe in.
And night was coming again, there were no windows but it knew. Carefully those glowing eyes blink, eyelashes batting against cheeks, and tongue beginning to rove a dry mouth. It does not move at first, just listens with those highly tuned ears, and it can hear it’s next victim moving in the darkness. At first it can only smell sweat mingled with some other odor, but then the sweetness of the blood comes to it’s nose; so, they had already harmed this victim. No matter. Pressing cold palms against the roof of the lid it lifts, sliding the concrete slab over until it falls to the side of the crypt loudly. A movement, the rattling of rusty chains. Gabriel raises itself from the tomb, musses it’s dull hair for a moment, and then quickly glides out of the coffin and onto the floor. It is not wearing shoes, just a plain tunic and breeches tonight, and it sniffs the chilling air. Carefully it moved closer, to the left, and reaches out those cold hands towards the man; it had smelled that scent, the male scent. It can see now, just slightly, the limp figure chained to the wall.
He is in his mid-forties, peppered beard, bushy matching hair, and ripped clothing. His wrists are stretched above his head, shackled, and there is a squeaking sounds -- ah, the arms are broken, the bones are rubbing. A playful smile comes across it’s lips, and it stops in front of him, makes a sudden noise; clumsy like a human. ‘Who is there?’ The prisoner asks softly, his throat is scratchy but the voice is quite lovely. He sways a little against his bonds, the squeaking bones become more livid sounding. ’I can hear you, don’t play tricks on me!’ He roars, striking forward with those battered legs, praying no more torment will come.
Oh, I will take away all your pain.
I will take care of you, my love.
“It is I”, Gabriel whispers attentively and steps closer to the man. Even in this utter darkens the man could see the vampire. “Lonely are you? This is such a lonely place, but I am as much trapped here as you should have been”. It croons to the man, stretching out a delicate hand to stroke the cut over the man’s left eye. Dots of blood are on it’s fingers and it licks them away, the taste sends shivers down it’s spine. Gabriel laughs a little, like tinkling music in the silence.
The man jerks himself vainly, his heart thumping madly again inside his chest. There is a question in his mind, the words coming into it’s mind slowly. He wonders what demon it is, what beautiful angle it could be, and how she came to be down in this place. That was a common thing, usually the male gender thought it was female and the female gender thought it was a male; idealistic beliefs of course. Gabriel shrugs and then puts it’s arms around the man’s neck, it sniffs again, licks it’s tainted lips devilishly. Then, without warning, it sinks those fangs deep into the man’s neck and drinks deeply. There are flashes of sparkling swords clashing, cannon fire, and women in drunken tizzies throwing themselves onto the bed; a distinct smell of sea-water, tobacco, and leather boots. A woman, one who is not anything less than fierce, her eyes are shinning brightly. And then the blood is gone, the man gives one last moan of pain, and then his life slips from him quickly.
Gabriel lets him go, wiping the blood from his lips, and spitting onto the ground. The blood was laced with alcohol. Shaking it’s head it reflects these visions it has seen, coming back to the woman with a manly air about her. She was a pirate, it could tell this from the hat and the weaponry she possessed --- this man had only seen her a handful of times. Gabriel sighs to itself as it crosses the dungeon floor, takes the stone stairs two at a time, and then knocks at the bolted door. A guard flings it open quickly, stares at the creature drenched in blood, and then steps aside. Gabriel removes it’s tunic, there is no sign of female parts here, and hands it to the guard with a smile. “Tell my father to send less intoxicating blood next time, and have that washed until you cannot see any stains”. It nods curtly, brushes back hair from it’s glowing face, shrinking away from the lit torches at the door’s entrance. “Oh, and have a boat ready”, it says slyly. “I’m going to visit the pirates”.
Such beautiful blood she has.
Player: Kate
Contacts: xxthechild (aim)
Age: Seventeen years old; actual age is twenty.
Gender: Androgynous; more masculine.
Race: Vampire
Alliance: Prince of Fonce (dark)
Appearance: Here is a thing that every human dreams of being, what they would essentially kill for; to be young and beautiful forever. But no one knows what it truly is, whether it be male or female, because there is no distinction between the genders. It was born this way, it cannot be changed, not even with the strongest magic in all the land; the parents have tried vainly for such a cure. Gabriel is not bothered by this fact, it actually draws some maniacal power source from it and uses it as an advantage. Of course this makes Gabriel’s sexuality confusing, and the aspect of children seems out of the question for now, but it would suppose that even it is unsure which gender is preferably attractive.
This can wait for a later date to decide, not important enough at the moment.
It was not always a vampire, it was not always quite so lovely. It used to be the target of cruel jokes, teasing laughs, and was altogether tormented because it’s father allowed such things to happen. And it doesn’t forget, it doesn’t forgive either. At first glance you cannot tell how different it is, that there is no humanity left, and you would probably not glance again. But if you look, and really look hard, there is an essence inescapable. The skin is extremely white, made of marble or granite, and looks smooth to the touch; you’ll want to touch, they all want to touch it. There are no visible scars or blemishes on it’s body, but those would have all been healed instantly when it was turned into this new creature. All it’s finger nails are long, thick, and rather glassy in appearance and cannot be removed; they will only grow back to the length they were when it died.
Gabriel is wiry like an adolescent male, but shapely like a female. It doesn’t have any physical features like either gender, just a mixture of both that make it seems plain looking. It’ll never have a lot of muscles or bulk, but it can have weight issues at times which make it uncomfortable. It seems to hate it’s own body, it wants to rip it to pieces. But most humans find the form pleasing, nearly irresistible at times, and they ogle it now that it is beautiful. Sometimes they whistle and jeer, sometimes they try to rape it when it is alone in some dark street at night; it has grown a festering hatred of humans. They are repulsive and lustful of things they can’t have. It has long, clean lines and petite bird bones that make it seems so very light -- so easy to over power and throw down into the dirt, to smudge. It seems to stand around five feet and six inches, give or take.
The face is exquisite, like an angel’s should be. A perfect oval, with a bit of baby fat around the jaws to soften them up, and high cheek bones that give it an angled look. Gabriel’s nose is long, straight and set centered in it’s face and below it’s nose are gorgeous lips. They are shaded a mauve in color, the color of death, but are plump and kissable. Perfectly human looking, and have been used on several occasions to it’s liking. The eyes are round, bulbous almost in shape, but are lovely none the less. They are rimmed in thick, black eyelashes that are extremely long and tantalizing when batted in a flirtatious way. Their coloring is a warm gold, they seem to glow at times but that is just the intensity of the shades that they possess; as a human Gabriel’s eyes were a more somber hazel in color, but they changed to suit the vampire blood running through it’s veins.
On the head is an abundance of chocolate colored hair, a shade which resembles black but isn’t quite there. Back when it used to live in the sunlight the hair was like a prism of colors, a rainbow. You could see black, brown, and streaks of navy blue when the light was right. But now that it can no longer go into the sunlight it’s hair seems to be black, deep, obtuse black; there is no vibrancy to the color anymore. It hangs down to the shoulders, limp and gracefully framing that chalk white visage, and it keeps bangs to the left side of the face.
It keeps itself impeccably clean, every inch is scrubbed to perfection, and there is no inkling that it might consume blood. The hands have been scrubbed so much they’re rough, the skin peels easily. It also makes sure to clean the teeth, the devilish fangs, so that they are not stained by what it eats.
It likes fancy things to put on it’s body, it likes the ancient smells some clothes have. Sometimes it prefers to wear muted colors such as gray, blue, brown, and black, usually during hunting. It wears lose cotton tunics, tights that cling to those beautiful legs, and velvet capes that drape down to the ankles; the shoes are usually boots when it wears these sorts of outfits. When going to more lavish places such as parties or out on the town it chooses different clothing. Expensive breeches, silk shoes with silver buckles, and many different layering shirts. It would remind someone of the Victorian or Revolutionary time periods, very sophisticated.
Personality: Unlike most people in this dirty age of war and guts, it has an almost compulsive need to clean. To remove the shame, the sins, and the festering malevolence that seem to stain everything it can see. Some would say it was diseased, that it had Schizophrenia because it can be so obsessive over things; sometimes it mumbles to itself, seems to be in some type of argument as it cleans. It’ll scrub until the skin is raw, until it sees it’s own tainted blood spill onto the cleansed spot; which means it just has to start all over again. This makes it’s father furious, makes him angry at his ‘son’ who he rejects anyway for what it is -- a blemish on his record.
It has a habit of not speaking, keeping those succulent lips shut tight. It has been called a mute but knows that it just chooses not to speak, and when it actually does the words are cryptic or in some riddle. People don’t want to talk to it, they stay away because they are afraid of it. Gabriel blames his beauty because he is a vain, self centered creature who thinks these mortals do not deserve it. There is a love and hate relationship it has with itself, something not even it can explain. Only it can punish itself, loath itself, and it becomes rueful when others attempt these things. It wants people to love it, to want it, and to crave it when they lay their eyes upon it. Some would say it was an attention hog, that getting attention was all that mattered to it’s simple mind, and they would be too correct in that assumption. But it cannot help it with the abusive past it has suffered, and with all usual lustful eyes that seem to follow it around.
Sometimes it seems not to function correctly, like the limbs are not it’s own. That comes from being a vampire fledgling and the body is getting used to being so light, so free from the fleshy remnants. It can be numb sometimes, without any feeling in it’s fingers or toes which causes it to be unbalanced. Gabriel seems a little clumsy for a vampire, but is gaining strength all the time, growing more graceful with every night it spends alive. Soon it will be able to run at amazing speeds, have the strength of a thousand men, but for now those abilities are cut in half. It can read minds to an extent, but it doesn’t like to because then it knows what people are really thinking about it. Gruesome, boastful, sexual things that make it’s skin crawl like tiny bugs by the millions. That is why it feel so awkward in it’s own skin, why it want to be set free from this prison.
It doesn’t like to fight even though it has no problem with protecting itself, and not that it likes peace either. But fighting takes too much effort and it can be such a lazy creature, it would rather spend time doing what it wanted -- maybe that is the female bit poking through. Usually it fights with hands and teeth, it has no need for weapons to use against these mortals that hunt it. If it can it will flee from a fight, it will try to not destroy life when it doesn’t need to because it is not that evil; no matter what anyone else will say about it.
Gabriel gets jealous easily, be it with lovers or other things, such as being acknowledged as a god itself. It doesn’t take being second likely, it doesn’t want gods and goddesses set before it in the people’s eye. And it will tell anyone there are no gods watching over them, that it is a god itself to be loved, and that they should bow down at it’s glorious feet. It has blow ups all the time, screaming and throwing things with a passionate loathing.
There is a side to Gabriel that is quite gruesome, a side that likes decay and cruelty to a point of insanity. It seems drawn to anything that makes anyone else cringe. It’s interested in wounds, sores, and infected areas whether it is on animals or people. It can be very sarcastic sometimes, with snide remarks or jokes that it thinks are funny. It likes to dissect things in the basement or on the streets if it cane find them, and it collects smaller animal bones sometimes. When it was younger it would hurt animals, like stray dogs and cats, the occasional bird when it could catch them.
History: Gabriel de Bello Monte is it’s entire title that was given on date of birth, chosen by the mother with minor help from the father. They did not know the disorder the child had when it was born, but now the name seems to suit both genders just fine. It is older than it’s sister at twenty years but was frozen in time at seventeen, which makes him look equal or younger. It never liked it’s sister, they never got on well as they grew up with each other, she picked at it like everyone else. But there wasn’t anything it could do really, it was just a little baby lost in a sea of cruelty. At seven years old it was started in school, taught by sages and weaponry instructors, it would be the greatest war lord of them all they thought; but it refused such lessons, it wanted to be in theatre and dance, and it wanted to read and write. Who cared about horse riding, magic, and swords when there was so much to learn?
Of course they forced it to learn these things, which it failed miserably in. They made it feel dumb, lesser than everyone else, and sometimes they stuffed it into the dungeon until it begged it would do better. It can remember silence mixed with bleating cries, the way it’s throat would get raw from the shouting, how dark it could be down there in that cage. Guards are not nice people, no, they would touch it in vulgar places and whisper things into it’s bleeding ears until it feared everyone who came to see it. Not soon after these things began to happen did they realize what Gabriel was, that it was neither male or female, and it caused problems. Mother and Father tried to get help, but there was no help to be found; not in magic or surgery, nothing could save this soul. And so, they rejected it even more than before and they tried to keep it hidden.
At first it agreed to lay low, but then teenage years came. It wanted a companion like all the others it’s age, it wanted someone to want it again. Gabriel would dress in all the best clothes, it wouldn’t dare let anyone see it less than perfect, and it attracted both genders to it. When it was thirteen it met Armando Valdéz Marcos, a promising shape-shifter general from some land across the ocean; he was nineteen at the time they met. They got to know each other and became friends, Armando would teach it how to use a weapon in those awkward hands and in return Gabriel taught him how to read. The friendship was no secret, it’s father approved, but no one knew the secret feelings it harbored. It was falling in love with Armando, with every day it’s heart beat faster for the copper skinned shape-shifter. Finally, after months, Gabriel told Armando who released that he felt the same about the now fourteen year old. Secretly, piece by piece, they started a fatal romance.
One night Gabriel went into town to find it’s lover, it searched everywhere until it found Armando stumbling outside the tavern drunk. He had women surrounding him, no wonder, and a gleam in those chocolate eyes. And it knew, deeply, what would occur on this wintry night and it plunged a knife into his heart. It ran away, tears staining those moonlit cheeks, and hid itself in the darkest parts of the castle. It should have known better, all humans were the same, they went from one pretty flower to the next without thinking. Gabriel was broken and after a couple of days Armando noticed, he questioned why his love was so sad, and it told him what it had seen. It yelled, it told him to leave and never come back again unless he wanted to be torn apart; limb from limb, eye for eye, every hair pulled out singularly. Armando fled Fonce never to return. This made it bitter, calloused to anyone, until he came. He said his name didn’t matter, that he had been watching Gabriel for so long, and loved it with a passionate fire -- and this strange was lovely and wizened by time, everything the sweet little thing craved after.
So it let him meet with it at night, in the vineyard somewhere far off. They enjoyed each other for several months, maybe even a year, before he said he must leave for somewhere else. But he asked Gabriel, with those intensive crimson eyes, if it would like to meet him again in a hundred years or more. Gabriel felt confused, it could not live a hundred years, not even with magic! He explained himself, what he was, and how he planned to meet with Gabriel again if it would only take the immortal blood. In a rush of vainness and shallowness it accepted, and it felt the hot breath on it’s neck; felt the fangs enter the soft flesh of the neck, it felt the blood leaving. And then it remembers sucking, it remember tasting rust but loving every moment of the feeding, then when consciousness seemed to return it was alone. Sprawled out under the night sky, surrounding by vines and grapes, and he was gone again.
A hundred years, my love.
Abilities: It is a vampire, a child of the night, so naturally it possess their traits. They are not as powerful as an older vampire, but they grow the longer it lives; when it’s a thousand years old it should become nearly unstoppable. Of course it needs blood to survive, it doesn’t eat regular food. It can run faster than any human, but cannot go faster than the eye can see. Gabriel can also fly to an extent, small distances depending on how much it has eaten previously. It can see decently in the darkness with it’s eyes, and can also read minds a little; like a nudge or flitting words, not entire sentences.
Disabilities: Like any vampire it cannot come out during the day lest it be burned alive, when it’s a million years old it could possibly be able to stand sunlight but that’s a long time from now. Not much can harm something that’s dead, except for fire and the hands of another vampire; naturally the skin is tough, impenetrable by regular human weapons. It is also a little less intelligent, more irrational than normal. It sleeps in a crypt in the dungeon of the castle where nothing can come to harm it, but if an enemy found it sleeping during the day they could destroy the slumbering creature easily.
Sample: Rats littered the ground, their tiny bones stark white in the complete darkness of the lower dungeon room. There were no sounds, nothing could get into this room or get out if it were put here, and that was where they hid it. The king had decided it would be best, that it would be kept safe that far down below the surface, with strong men guarding the entrance with swords. Sometimes they would bring thieves or traitors down here, lock them up by the wrists against the stone wall for it to play with; those prisoners usually never made it out alive. It would come to them, whispering with sweet lips, and then take their blood for it’s own -- take their soul, heart, breath, memories. And it loved the feeling of that warm body against it’s chest, the thumping of the heart as it gave out, and the way the blood bounced against the veins. All sickeningly sweet music to it’s ears. But the prisoners were not afraid when it came, they were curious and filthy, they thought that it, too, was a prisoner of these hallow halls. Corrections were never fun, not even when the screaming started to rise against the darkness. They had built a crypt for it in the darkness, a stone bed. It was a perfect, roomy square with beautiful silk lining inside for it to lay against. There were carvings on the outside, the crypt used to be for old scrolls and clothes, things that needed to be watched carefully. The lid is solid, it is heavy, not even five men could lift it by themselves. This was the perfect thing for it to sleep in, for it to feel safe in.
And night was coming again, there were no windows but it knew. Carefully those glowing eyes blink, eyelashes batting against cheeks, and tongue beginning to rove a dry mouth. It does not move at first, just listens with those highly tuned ears, and it can hear it’s next victim moving in the darkness. At first it can only smell sweat mingled with some other odor, but then the sweetness of the blood comes to it’s nose; so, they had already harmed this victim. No matter. Pressing cold palms against the roof of the lid it lifts, sliding the concrete slab over until it falls to the side of the crypt loudly. A movement, the rattling of rusty chains. Gabriel raises itself from the tomb, musses it’s dull hair for a moment, and then quickly glides out of the coffin and onto the floor. It is not wearing shoes, just a plain tunic and breeches tonight, and it sniffs the chilling air. Carefully it moved closer, to the left, and reaches out those cold hands towards the man; it had smelled that scent, the male scent. It can see now, just slightly, the limp figure chained to the wall.
He is in his mid-forties, peppered beard, bushy matching hair, and ripped clothing. His wrists are stretched above his head, shackled, and there is a squeaking sounds -- ah, the arms are broken, the bones are rubbing. A playful smile comes across it’s lips, and it stops in front of him, makes a sudden noise; clumsy like a human. ‘Who is there?’ The prisoner asks softly, his throat is scratchy but the voice is quite lovely. He sways a little against his bonds, the squeaking bones become more livid sounding. ’I can hear you, don’t play tricks on me!’ He roars, striking forward with those battered legs, praying no more torment will come.
Oh, I will take away all your pain.
I will take care of you, my love.
“It is I”, Gabriel whispers attentively and steps closer to the man. Even in this utter darkens the man could see the vampire. “Lonely are you? This is such a lonely place, but I am as much trapped here as you should have been”. It croons to the man, stretching out a delicate hand to stroke the cut over the man’s left eye. Dots of blood are on it’s fingers and it licks them away, the taste sends shivers down it’s spine. Gabriel laughs a little, like tinkling music in the silence.
The man jerks himself vainly, his heart thumping madly again inside his chest. There is a question in his mind, the words coming into it’s mind slowly. He wonders what demon it is, what beautiful angle it could be, and how she came to be down in this place. That was a common thing, usually the male gender thought it was female and the female gender thought it was a male; idealistic beliefs of course. Gabriel shrugs and then puts it’s arms around the man’s neck, it sniffs again, licks it’s tainted lips devilishly. Then, without warning, it sinks those fangs deep into the man’s neck and drinks deeply. There are flashes of sparkling swords clashing, cannon fire, and women in drunken tizzies throwing themselves onto the bed; a distinct smell of sea-water, tobacco, and leather boots. A woman, one who is not anything less than fierce, her eyes are shinning brightly. And then the blood is gone, the man gives one last moan of pain, and then his life slips from him quickly.
Gabriel lets him go, wiping the blood from his lips, and spitting onto the ground. The blood was laced with alcohol. Shaking it’s head it reflects these visions it has seen, coming back to the woman with a manly air about her. She was a pirate, it could tell this from the hat and the weaponry she possessed --- this man had only seen her a handful of times. Gabriel sighs to itself as it crosses the dungeon floor, takes the stone stairs two at a time, and then knocks at the bolted door. A guard flings it open quickly, stares at the creature drenched in blood, and then steps aside. Gabriel removes it’s tunic, there is no sign of female parts here, and hands it to the guard with a smile. “Tell my father to send less intoxicating blood next time, and have that washed until you cannot see any stains”. It nods curtly, brushes back hair from it’s glowing face, shrinking away from the lit torches at the door’s entrance. “Oh, and have a boat ready”, it says slyly. “I’m going to visit the pirates”.
Such beautiful blood she has.
Player: Kate
Contacts: xxthechild (aim)
