Sanctuary of Obscurity

******Character's Basic Info********
Name: Veincent Graves
Age: 98
Race: [ ] Human [ X ] Vampire [ ] Lycan [ ] Demon [ ] Angel [ ] Reverant (Zombie)
Gender: [ X ] Male [ ] Female
Clan Title/Position: Vampire

*****Appearence /Personality*******
Appearance/Attire: Traditionally dark, but with no set style. One time, a punk, pierced and scarred with utter hatred. Next, a wretched clown, veiled in running face paint. For the most part, he can be found wearing dark shades to complement his fair skin and light hair, notably clad in a black, hooded leather jacket and strapped black boots, which conceal a dark arsenal. A masquerader with a taste for the theatrical.
Personality: Due to a parentless, friendless life as a human, Veincent's desire for solitude and solace is unquenched, wishing that he could live an eternity on his own, yet his loneliness is broken by those close to him, bringing out the best in him ever so often. Personally, a lost soul, content to not let too many grow close to him, chosing to hid behind a shade of theatrics and parlor tricks, propelled by a strong sense and knowledge of the dark arts and cinematic influences.
Alliance : [ ] Good [ X ] Netural [ ] Evil

********History and Family*********
History: Born Veincent Vallon Almasy, in 1911, to an industrious family in Northern Alberta, Canada, Veincent's life was rather tiresome and scheduled.. Forced to work from a young age, his family relied heavily on the help of all their children and live-in relatives to bring in financial support, when times were becoming economically difficult.
At the age of 19, amidst the Great Depression, which had begun to sweep the global community and faced with difficult financial woes, his family began to consult with a wealthy man named Lucan Blackheart, unknown to them was a powerful vampire travelling through from Europe.
With no hope of government intervention with regards to the falling economy, the Almasy elders manage to coerce their eldest son, being Veincent, into gaining the employment of that man, Lucan, who welcomes the younger man with open arms, after spending several weeks deducing that this boys cold demeanor and work ethic would serve him all to well. With that, Veincent moved on with his life, leaving behind a family on the verge of losing faith, but with high hopes that their son would return anew.
In 1939, amidst the backdrop of World War 2, life had became rather chaotic and horrifying for Veincent Almasy.
As a ward and a watcher to Lucan, Veincent fell through the cracks of his own psychological sensibilities. He began to witness that which he could not possibly understand or explain. The appearance of animals: wolves, spiders, bats, docile, yet threatening when approached. Figures moving through the shadows in the dead of night. A figure of human proportions seemingly blessed with a set of large black wings. A fallen angel amongst the living and the dead.
As Lucan was rather reserved about his lifestyle and choices, Veincent fell into a path of depression, seeking refuge in the dark, feeling unwanted and afraid. However, one night, as he is sitting amidst an outdoor balcony of Lucan's residence, he gazes down to see a beautiful woman, cloaked in dark shades, with an air of mystery and death surrounding her. The most beautiful figure he had ever laid his eyes upon.
Veincent's slip into madness brought about the best of his master. As a watcher and harvester, Veincent would go out and claim the lives of the living to quench Lucan's lifely hunger. The scent of death and decay and putrid bloody fluids filled his nostrils for all time, never letting up and never letting him forget the horrors that would fall upon him should he fail. He was nothing more than a mere calf leading the cows to the slaughter.
One night, upon his return with his takings, Veincent inadvertedly passed by Lucan's chamber, only for his eyes to meet a sight for sore eyes. The woman he had gazed upon. His master beneath her. Both in the throes of sexual ecstacy and euphoria.
He couldn't believe his eyes and turned his gaze and proceeded to leave the hallway, but not before his eyes met those by his masters lover, Mortisha Dagger, who could do no more than grin a wicked smile, as if to pry Veincent's deepest desires from his very soul.
Later in the evening, after his master had left the premises, Veincent could only pray that his mind would clear itself before he drove himself mad with the thoughts of the woman he had developed a newfound lust for. So weak and misguided. Best not to let Lucan discover his feelings and his emotional reserve.
While sitting in the study, he found himself reading Friedrich Nietzsche's "Menschliches, Allzumenschliches". Not a prefered reading, but the limited source made it hard for him to find familiarity.
Just as he had gotten a handle on the text, he was approached by a cloaked servant. A young woman, draped in a cloak, her pale skin shimmering in the candlelight. Without speaking a word, she hands him a note, which to this very day, the contents are only known to him and Mortisha Dagger. As if on command, he makes his way to the third floor of the home, to a large door, stained a light red, as if bathed in blood. He knocks, only to be greeted by the door itself, opening on its own, to reveal a large open room, draped in reds and blacks. In the center, a bed.
Entering, the door closes behind him. Cautiosly moving forward, he can feel something inside of him urging him to continue without fear. Approaching the bed, he finds it apparently empty, but after a moment of nothingness, a form appears beneath the white sheet. A female form. Mortisha Dagger.
While the memories of that encounter are but a mere blur in his mind, the feelings he felt shall not be soon forgotten. The feeling of Mortisha's seduction taking full hold of him. Coercing him to disrobe and lie beside her. The embodiment of enjoyment as she moved ontop of him. The pleasure as her tightness gripped around him, making him feel like a man for the first time in his entire life. The first woman he had ever made love to. The pressures building as her motion increased, harder and faster. His face cringing in pure ecstacy as he felt his orgasm building. But then something happened. So vague in his own mind, yet so clear. In the throes of pleasure, he felt a sharp pain in the left side of his neck. It was Mortisha. Her teeth had pierced his flesh and was now suckling at the wound, her warm tongue running against his skin as her lips tighten around the ruby breaks in his throat. He is unable to fight back for the moment that this all happens before him, as the pleasure overpowers any instinct he may have and when she finally pulls her head back, he manages to look the devil in the eyes. Here hair flowing back as a trail of blood runs down from the corner of her lips, reaching the base of her chin and finally falling, only to land on the bare, toned chest of Veincent. As he looks on briefly, her teeth...her fangs coming into full view, he can feel it beginning. Slowly, but surely, he begins to lose consciousness, as everything goes black.
After that night, Veincent began seeing everything differently. Not only seeing, but smelling. Tasting. Hearing. Touching. Everything was different. What had she dont to him? He had remembered a film from his youth. A tale of a nocturnal creature called Nosferatu. Max Schreck. Such a monsterous portrayal brought with the shadows, nightmares and horrifying visions. Creatures of the night. Vampires.
For the next two weeks, the changes became more prominent. His sensitivity to sunlight was becoming apparent. Perhaps he was truly becoming the thing of bad dreams. Perhaps he was crazy. Perhaps he was already dead.
In those two weeks, Lucan would leave in the late hours of the evening, and again and again, Veincent would receive a letter from one of the handmaidens. The same message would be contained within. And again, he and his masters bride would share immense and intense pleasure as they became one with each other. And again, Veincent offered his throat to the wolf, to which she eagerly accepted, with a loving tenderness to follow the pain.
But one night, the dire consequences of Veincent's temptation became apparent at the late hours of the night.
Making his way to Mortisha's room once more, he comes to the door and slowly knocks, hoping once again to gain entry. As it begins to open to allow him entry, he can see the candles lighting his inevitable path. Slowly, with eager anticipation, he walks in.
However, just as soon as the door closed behind him, he is struck hard, thrown against the hard wood of the door he had just passed. Winded, he can barely comprehend what had just hit him, but as his eyes open, the unforgetable feel of a hand wrapped around his throat, as a pair of dark, ominous eyes look into his own, with full intent to end his miserable life.
Lucan was prepared to rip this would-be mortals soul apart, but as his grip tightened, a small set of hands grasped the arm that was choking Veincent. It was Mortisha.
Urging him to stop, with pleas of forgiveness for such an infidelity, both sexual and vampiric, time seemed to stop for Veincent, as he awaited his demise. Yet, as quick as Lucan was, even the words...the loving pleas and regrets of his one true love could break even his icy exterior and slow him down to that of a mortals level. Yet still, his grip remained tight.
Willing to go down fighting, Veincent began swinging his fists and throwing his knees, bringing hard blows to the larger, stronger man, which actually managed to disorient the vampire ever so briefly, but to no avail. With every punch brought to his side and every knee to his torso, it appeared to actually bring a feeling of brief respect to Lucan towards Veincent. A true nobility to fight, even when experiencing fear in the face of certain death.
As his vision was nearing the blackness, the hand suddenly released him. Falling to the floor, Veincent shuffled his body up against the door, not keeping his eyes off the two lovers standing before him, unable to trust his instincts.
Lucan's anger had become feelings of disappointed towards his longtime ward and even longer-lived bride. But he still loved the woman and her pleas to release him...to let him go...did not go unnoticed. And that was as fast as it had to be. An order against the newly created vampire, Veincent was forced to choose between life as an abomination or death. His pride and confidence getting the better of him, with no words spoken, he disappeared into the night, never to be seen by the two again.
Over the next 70 years, very little is known about what happened to Veincent in vivid details. There are however, a few notables to be mentioned.
Having to learn to fend for himself, he became bitter at the world and at those who had created him. He was forced to the streets, having no money and when the hungers began to overtake him, he found himself taking out his selfish frustrations on those that society wouldn't typically take notice off. Homeless. Criminals. Addicts.
In, Toronti, Ontario, 1957, after feeding on a morphine addict, he found himself weakened and dazed. Stumbling around, he could see the sky beginning to lighten. The sun was not far from. Making his way into a seemingly abandoned building, he passed out from the drugs now flowing through his system, unprepared for such a reaction.
When he awoke, he was in a bed. Cleaned up. Feeling refreshed. Someone had helped him. An older gentlemen was siting in the room, which, inititally startled the young vampire, but once the man realized his guest had awoken, things garnered a much more positive reaction.
The man, a vampire himself named Carson "Stick" Graves, his nickname a jab at his slender almost deathly form, had been trailing the path of death that he had finally discovered, had been caused by this young Canadian. Not wanting the knowledge of vampiric beings to become public knowledge, he had planned on killing the man himself, but when he had found him, weakened and unconscious, he began to pity him. Misguided and young, with no knowledge of the Hell's that awaited him, he felt, perhaps, it was his duty as an elder to help Veincent. And so he did, but not as a vampire. As a human being.
Over the next few years, Stick would teach Veincent the ways of bending perception to aid his own cause. Misdirection is the common term. Parlour tricks. Illusions. Teaching him to use red mists, black powders, explosives and combustibles, mirrors, fire.It was as if he was advising a magicians apprentice. But truthfully, Stick's goal was to keep Veincent human underneath. As he viewed over his many years, so many vampires lose their humanity and to him, that is the only thing that keeps their kind from becoming nothing more than ravenous animals. Some thought it had weakened him, but truly, it had kept him alive a lot longer.
With the theatrical gifts blessed, Stick also treated the younger man to physical tests, which had managed to heighten his strength, speed, agility and endurance. Throw in a series of teachings regarding hand to hand combat and weapons training and Stick had been forging a potentially deadly apprentice.
Of course, Stick also humored the young mans questioms about his own kind, as well as his curiousities regarding his potential. Through these discussions and a set of trials to follow, Veincent eventually learned several abilities of a supernatural persuasion, which, to this day, are only known by Veincent and Stick. Rumors of animal communication and perception shifting have yet to be confirmed.
To finish his transformation, Veincent decided to change his entire identity, no longer an Almasy, but now, Veincent Graves, a "Clown Prince of Darkness".
Over the years between his exile and his training, Veincent also took the time to work on his studies and education, becoming rather knowledgeable in the world of fine arts, music and the paranormal and the occult, most notably historical artifacts of such a nature.
In 1973, now in league with a small group of vampires atempting to keep the knowledge of their kinds existance unknown, the Night Watchmen, Veincent was feeling as though maybe his kind wasn't so bad after all. However, his past was about to catch up to him.
One late night, Veincent received a letter. A letter from an unsuspecting name. Mortisha Dagger. The one who had cursed him and forced him out, without a family or friends. Bringing back those feelings of abandonment, anger and utter hatred for vampire kind, Veincent turned the ltter to ash before even reading it. Over the next year, he would receive six more letters and each time, he would have to fight the temptation to read them, in favor of forgetting his troubling past.
Not long after, while investigating the death of several families in the Trenton, Ontario area, Veincent's sanity was pushed beyond the limit or probable understanding. A vampire named Vallen had been killing families to satisfy his hunger. What Veincent witnessed that night would haunt him for a lont time. Inside the home of the vampire, Veincent discovered the dismembered corpses of two small children, no older than his own sister the last time he had seen his family. Overcome with a psychotic hatred, Veincent waited for the return of the murderer and once home, Veincent proceeded to beat the man near to death, before setting him ablaze in his own home, watching him die with his own eyes. There was no going back now. He had finaly figured out what he had to become.
His disdain carried over into the meetings with the Night Watchmen, which resulted in him being removed. But not before Stick could give Veincent a letter he had received.
After being removed from the faction, Veincent chose to leave the prosperous East, in favor of the quiet, tranquility of the mountains of Northern Montana. There, he lived for many years, before rediscovering the letter Stick had given him before his leave.
This time, the letter was blessed with the mongram of the Blackheart. Curiously, he chose to read it, despite his hate for the man who let him become what he now is. Specifics aside, it required Veincent's return, citing a common advesary that was threatening the tranquil of his kingdom. Not one to care about the Blackheart's and the common they carry, Veincent's interest was peaked by the idea that, for once, Lucan needed him and not the other way around.
With death on the mind, Veincent made the decision to leave for Europe, not sure about his true intentions once the elder vampire was standing before him, but only time would tell....
Parents: N/A
Siblings: N/A
Partner: N/A
Best Friends: Mortisha Dagger
Enemies: N/A

********Characters Skills***********
Skills:
Attributes:
Advantages/Disadvantages:

********BLOODLINES BASICS********
Current Clan: Sanctuary of Obscurity
Former Clan(s): N/A
Bloodlines Generation: 8
Currant Status: Vampire
Bitten/Attacked by: Mortisha Dagger
Bitten on (date): 1/16/2009
Turned by: Mortisha Dagger
Turned on (date): 1/16/2009
Soul Location: Mortisha Dagger
Liege: Mortisha Dagger
Minions: None

*********BLOODLINES WAR**********
Active in Bloodlines War: [ ] Yes [ X ] No
Currant Army: N/A
Former Armies: N/A
Arsenal:

Sanctuary of Obscurity

Thursday, July 23, 2015

Sanctuary of Obscurity

Sunday, July 26, 2009

Bloodlines Profile : Veincent Graves

Bloodlines Profile : Mortisha Dagger

Saturday, July 25, 2009

Bloodlines Profile : Adrian Mistwalker

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