Post by Administrator on Apr 15, 2011 19:40:45 GMT -4
Your name: Ink
Character's Name: Takeshi Akuma
Gender: Male
Age: 15 – 18 Depending on the effort he puts into ageing his appearance through clothing, hairstyle and so on
Vampire Age: 211
Category: Wild vampire
Character History:
Centuries of code which dictate all aspects of life were a harsh and cruel reality to those who had the misfortune to be born outside those conventions considered honourable or even simply acceptable. Takeshi was not one born beneath a happy alignment of the stars and thus the fates did not smile upon the unceremonious ushering of his being into the world. Born the illegitimate son of a great warrior, the product of his father’s own evil intentions thrust upon a young servant girl caught cowering in the stables of her fallen master, he was denied by his father from the moment of his first breath and reviled by the woman who had given birth to him. Had the fates thought perhaps even once to look with favour upon the child he may have been handed to care of another, even sold to the barbarity of slavery, however, even these small mercies were forsaken the young Takeshi. His mother kept the boy close, taking pleasure in his torment and exacting her vengeance upon his father through him.
The child was raised with the bare minimum of care and attention required to sustain his life. From the earliest of his memories he cannot claim to have known compassion and thus grew without any. Kept in squalid living conditions his body failed to thrive. Forced to steal his meals from the pigs kept by villagers he did not grow quickly, developing a slightness of his frame that would remain with him always. Takeshi was worked hard from the moment his small fingers could be employed in labour. Pleasing those who should have cared for him was an impossibility but a tenacity of his youthful nature propelled him to attempt so always.
Hated by his own mother and reviled by the villagers as a demon spawn his life was not an easy one. His station in life was below that of the animals he tended and few thought more than fleetingly should the boy be whipped for a mere infraction. This maltreatment was the seed of hatred of all men that would blossom and thrive at his turning. His life was not one of any great marvel until the evening he stumbled across the path of his sire.
The day had begun like countless others with chores and labours heaped upon the frailty of his back until exhaustion made the very labour of breathing a jolting task. A group of boys, some related to him as cousins by blood but not in name for he had no standing as a person, accosted Takeshi in the fields outside the village. Their jeering remarks drawing no reaction from the boy so used to the slight of words they quickly took to physical recourse to further his torment.
Left beaten and bleeding to death in a muddy watering hole for pigs, Takeshi thought his life would end that night as the moon’s cold and loveless light fell upon him. Without even the strength to lift his head he heard the approach of the stranger. He eyes watched, each breath a struggle as he leaned over him, whispering in a soft lilting voice. His face unlike any that he had seen before, his hair an unfamiliar colour. Fear coursed through his veins. This was to be the first westerner Takeshi would see and the one who resurrected him from the mire of his existence. The vampire had watched the boy’s suffering, the fight that he had rallied against so many despite the odds.
Cold hands lifted him from the mud and a ripping pain tore through him as the last of his life was torn from his fragile human form and the venom of vampirism was gifted to him. Through that pain the humanity of the boy was stripped from his existence and it was a changed being that embodied his form upon his awakening. Among his first acts were those acts of revenge he had longed for from his infancy. An entire village owed him repayment for the torment of his childhood and he lingered over the extraction of it with each and every member of the village under the tutelage of his sire. He left last those who should have loved him most, the woman who had given him birth only to torture him in her disgust at his conception, the father who denounced and denied him, the children who ought to have called him brother. None were left without having suffered. In his rebirth, Takeshi had discovered a love of tormenting. His suffering turned to a rage and thirst for vengeance against all human kind.
The ability to daydream and create small worlds in his mind that had so comforted him as a child and allowed him some escape from his torment remained with him through his transformation. But like his physical form, he found that it had mutated into something new, something powerful. He discovered a connection with the minds of others, an ability to twist the images of thought within the mind of his target. His rage and anger demanded violent he fed mothers images of the deaths of their children, terribly suffering painful deaths that drew despair from his victim and caused their hearts to race with adrenaline. Like a drug he grew to prefer the taste of a fear filled meal and inflicting terror became his preferred method of killing.
He did not know why it was that the westerner had taken pity upon him. Perhaps it had not been pity but a desire for the continuation of malice. The truth was he did not know what had provoked the vampire to change his life for that of one of un-life. He could not honestly say that he minded his transformation. He revelled in the power given to him though it. Embracing the darkest parts of his personality with a relish.
Some three decades passed before he left the shores of his beloved Japan for the first time. Venturing out into the wider world and expanding his knowledge of people and the fears that drive them. He grew in his knowledge of those mythical concepts that frighten people, fine tuning his skills and his techniques for killing. The great wars of the world drew him like a moth to flame. The sheer suffering of so many was akin to ambrosia for his tainted spirit.
Never remaining in one area for too long. His antisocial nature, born of his mistreatment, extended to the avoidance of his new kin. He had few dealings with other vampires which perhaps has kept him from the eye of either the Romanians or Italians. A loner he has pursued his own agendas for decades. Without compassion he has grown to become a fierce and somewhat frightening executioner. His contempt for humanity rivals the contempt within which he grew. The fluidity with which people travel and the advent of a multi-cultural mixing of the world has only enabled his movements throughout the world. His attention to detail and his penchant for not wasting anything has seen him grow independently wealthy over the past two hundred years. Many who encounter him believe him from old money and this suits his interests.
Character Appearance: Beautiful and terrifying. Takeshi is not an overly tall individual, indeed his slight build, small stature and delicate features present him as rather fragile individual. Appearances are however, deceptive. His small frame holding the unnatural strength, speed and agility of a vampire. Takeshi has a plethora of scars on his upper torso. The reminders of a violently abusive childhood. It is unlikely that any save those closest to him will be aware of this marring of his skin. He is an intensely private person and is unlikely to reveal the fact willingly.
Strengths:
Artistic
Observant
Focussed
Attention to detail
efficient
Weaknesses:
extreme aversion to disorder, sloppy people,
judgemental
unyielding
often uncompromising
overly disciplined
stubborn
Personality:
Appearances can be deceptive. The innocent face and sweet features of Takeshi belie an inner monstrous nature. A child born of hate he is both beautiful and terrifying. Takeshi is a personality capable of great love and great evil. Those whom he has granted his favour are not only loved deeply but will find his devotion unwavering. Yet should they fail his expectations these same loved ones will meet with the most abhorrent justifications that can be metered out by a being such as Takeshi. He is not only capable of great evil, he thrives on it. He harbours a particularly sadistic malice toward his victims.
A quietly observant young man he is very insightful. Alert and aware he is intently interested in small details. He is insightful having shown a wisdom in his youth that was almost unnatural. It was often said that he was an old soul. This wisdom has followed him and grown throughout his time upon the earth. Highly resourceful, Takeshi wastes nothing and leaves nothing behind. This penchant for wasting nothing has seen his personal wealth has accumulated though he is not extravagant with his wealth. Preferring a much more simplistic lifestyle.
Takeshi is highly aware of his surroundings. His hyper vigilance has protected him throughout the decade. He is known for planning his movements before making them and carefully considering all of his options before making decisions. He will envision that which he wants and set out the steps that will allow him to reach his goal. Takeshi has an acute dislike of being touched. He is not in awe of social interaction and finds it difficult to maintain or even begin a conversation, hence he does not like conversation. He is not fond of talkative people who persist in attempting to draw him into conversation. Preferring instead, to be talked at rather than actually committing to the discourse. Those who feel compelled to share their life with him as they journey to work silently brew his ire. Takeshi also dislikes disorder. His world is highly ordered, obsessively so.
He is an intensely private person and perceives questions about himself as invasions into his privacy. He prefers not to mingle with others, enjoying solitude to the difficulty of communication. This being said, there are a select few that Takeshi is willing to allow into his innermost thoughts and permit himself to enjoy the company of. He lacks the ability to empathise with others and share in their experience. He lives entirely within his own scope and while he is able to mask his personality and project himself as a well adjusted and even likeable if person the truth of his inner workings is far from this. Sadistic tendencies, purposeless and irrational antisocial behaviour, lack of conscience, emotional vacuity, all lead him to an inability to have any truly meaningful relationships. He has failed to develop affectional bonds that would allow him to empathize with another's pain. An individual so self-centred that, in his eyes, no other being matters.
How is your character related to the story? Takeshi is a trained and skilled killer, revelling in the pleasure of killing he is a loose cannon without a purpose. His enjoyment of inflicting pain has been useful to others as a weapon in the past. Either for gaining information or simply to dispatch a foe in the most tormenting of manners. I do not want to say he is a member of the Voltuir nor the Romanians because I think members of the site should determine that. However, his skills would work well with dark designs. For now he could simply be an increasing problem to tose vampires living beneath the treaty and stir up their world a little with concerns for their safety and non disclosure to the world.
Sample of your RP-ing skills:
His acute hearing head her utter her cuss as clearly as if she had said it directly to him. He chose not to watch as she scuttled about the floor collecting the artworks from it. He heard the old woman tutt at him and something flashed in his eyes. A malignant malice. She was lucky they sat in a place somewhere so public. He would happily have dispatched the entire population within the carriage except that such acts in this era drew too much attention. Should he kill so many he would not be able to spend the summer in the small town he had chosen for its lack of summer sun and clouded weather. He licked his teeth and stared out of the window in order to distract himself from his own darker thoughts. He detested being limited like this.
“Nice to meet you Dusty.” He turned to look at her as she spoke to him. The old woman would wait. He reminded himself that there was no conquest in dispatching a human already chasing after death. It placated his mood. He did not like being around humans. Their smell, their frailty, the very things that made them human irritated him. He was hungry, though not starved enough to lose his reason. He had not reached his age without learning to control himself. He normally wore contacts in order to disguise the base colour of his eyes, but he had not had an opportunity to hunt. He had flown over from Japan only yesterday and there was no chance to feed in the confines of the plane nor on the brief distance to the station and so he remained hungry and had no need to disguise the colour of his eyes.
He watched her gather her artwork from the floor and then pause seeing his suitcase. Takeshi liked nice things. He appeared to be young but he was not young. He leaned to look where she did. His smile slipping a little as he noted her tone. “My mother.” He said briefly and definitively. “She does not like people to think we are poor.” His gaze met hers for a moment. His eyes looking deeply into hers without hesitation. A clear and open expression. He shrugged as though helpless behind the concerns of his parents. If only she knew that his mother had never even heard of a suitcase let alone chosen one for him. When she had lived people had used steamer trunks and parcels to travel.
He rubbed the bow of his lip again with his slender finger and leaned back in his seat. He pushed his hair from his eyes and appeared to be somewhat embarrassed by her observation of his bag. He flopped his foot to the floor and leaned forward to rest his elbows upon his knees and stare at the floor of the train. He knew that she watched him after she had returned to her seat. He glanced up at her as she spoke to him. His hair slipping over his porcelain features and framing them, black against white. He looked at his wrist. “Kimiko... my sister, she wanted to be close to me.” He looked at it. The truth was that he had no sister, but he had a family history he had invented, photographs he had taken to collaborate his story and other such human paraphernalia that would convince others of his cover. He had been doing this long enough to be adept at it.
He pulled his suitcase from beneath his feet and un-zippered it. Opening it he revealed the contents for the few minutes that it was open .It was packed neatly. Like a work of origami. This was not something unusual in Japan but he could not tell how she would react. He opened a small bag that had lain atop the clothing and pulled out a camera. He set it beside him on the seat and then deftly zipped up the bag and returned it to his case. With the same grace of movement he closed his suitcase again and stowed it once more beneath his feet. He glanced at her. Turning it on, he pulled up a video of his supposed family and offered it to her. The girl in the video clearly wore the very same friendship bracelet as she waved to the camera. “This is her.” He smiled. “My parents” He stated as the camera turned to the couple. They seemed a happy family. He smiled and nodded his head to Dusty.
Character's Name: Takeshi Akuma
Gender: Male
Age: 15 – 18 Depending on the effort he puts into ageing his appearance through clothing, hairstyle and so on
Vampire Age: 211
Category: Wild vampire
Character History:
Centuries of code which dictate all aspects of life were a harsh and cruel reality to those who had the misfortune to be born outside those conventions considered honourable or even simply acceptable. Takeshi was not one born beneath a happy alignment of the stars and thus the fates did not smile upon the unceremonious ushering of his being into the world. Born the illegitimate son of a great warrior, the product of his father’s own evil intentions thrust upon a young servant girl caught cowering in the stables of her fallen master, he was denied by his father from the moment of his first breath and reviled by the woman who had given birth to him. Had the fates thought perhaps even once to look with favour upon the child he may have been handed to care of another, even sold to the barbarity of slavery, however, even these small mercies were forsaken the young Takeshi. His mother kept the boy close, taking pleasure in his torment and exacting her vengeance upon his father through him.
The child was raised with the bare minimum of care and attention required to sustain his life. From the earliest of his memories he cannot claim to have known compassion and thus grew without any. Kept in squalid living conditions his body failed to thrive. Forced to steal his meals from the pigs kept by villagers he did not grow quickly, developing a slightness of his frame that would remain with him always. Takeshi was worked hard from the moment his small fingers could be employed in labour. Pleasing those who should have cared for him was an impossibility but a tenacity of his youthful nature propelled him to attempt so always.
Hated by his own mother and reviled by the villagers as a demon spawn his life was not an easy one. His station in life was below that of the animals he tended and few thought more than fleetingly should the boy be whipped for a mere infraction. This maltreatment was the seed of hatred of all men that would blossom and thrive at his turning. His life was not one of any great marvel until the evening he stumbled across the path of his sire.
The day had begun like countless others with chores and labours heaped upon the frailty of his back until exhaustion made the very labour of breathing a jolting task. A group of boys, some related to him as cousins by blood but not in name for he had no standing as a person, accosted Takeshi in the fields outside the village. Their jeering remarks drawing no reaction from the boy so used to the slight of words they quickly took to physical recourse to further his torment.
Left beaten and bleeding to death in a muddy watering hole for pigs, Takeshi thought his life would end that night as the moon’s cold and loveless light fell upon him. Without even the strength to lift his head he heard the approach of the stranger. He eyes watched, each breath a struggle as he leaned over him, whispering in a soft lilting voice. His face unlike any that he had seen before, his hair an unfamiliar colour. Fear coursed through his veins. This was to be the first westerner Takeshi would see and the one who resurrected him from the mire of his existence. The vampire had watched the boy’s suffering, the fight that he had rallied against so many despite the odds.
Cold hands lifted him from the mud and a ripping pain tore through him as the last of his life was torn from his fragile human form and the venom of vampirism was gifted to him. Through that pain the humanity of the boy was stripped from his existence and it was a changed being that embodied his form upon his awakening. Among his first acts were those acts of revenge he had longed for from his infancy. An entire village owed him repayment for the torment of his childhood and he lingered over the extraction of it with each and every member of the village under the tutelage of his sire. He left last those who should have loved him most, the woman who had given him birth only to torture him in her disgust at his conception, the father who denounced and denied him, the children who ought to have called him brother. None were left without having suffered. In his rebirth, Takeshi had discovered a love of tormenting. His suffering turned to a rage and thirst for vengeance against all human kind.
The ability to daydream and create small worlds in his mind that had so comforted him as a child and allowed him some escape from his torment remained with him through his transformation. But like his physical form, he found that it had mutated into something new, something powerful. He discovered a connection with the minds of others, an ability to twist the images of thought within the mind of his target. His rage and anger demanded violent he fed mothers images of the deaths of their children, terribly suffering painful deaths that drew despair from his victim and caused their hearts to race with adrenaline. Like a drug he grew to prefer the taste of a fear filled meal and inflicting terror became his preferred method of killing.
He did not know why it was that the westerner had taken pity upon him. Perhaps it had not been pity but a desire for the continuation of malice. The truth was he did not know what had provoked the vampire to change his life for that of one of un-life. He could not honestly say that he minded his transformation. He revelled in the power given to him though it. Embracing the darkest parts of his personality with a relish.
Some three decades passed before he left the shores of his beloved Japan for the first time. Venturing out into the wider world and expanding his knowledge of people and the fears that drive them. He grew in his knowledge of those mythical concepts that frighten people, fine tuning his skills and his techniques for killing. The great wars of the world drew him like a moth to flame. The sheer suffering of so many was akin to ambrosia for his tainted spirit.
Never remaining in one area for too long. His antisocial nature, born of his mistreatment, extended to the avoidance of his new kin. He had few dealings with other vampires which perhaps has kept him from the eye of either the Romanians or Italians. A loner he has pursued his own agendas for decades. Without compassion he has grown to become a fierce and somewhat frightening executioner. His contempt for humanity rivals the contempt within which he grew. The fluidity with which people travel and the advent of a multi-cultural mixing of the world has only enabled his movements throughout the world. His attention to detail and his penchant for not wasting anything has seen him grow independently wealthy over the past two hundred years. Many who encounter him believe him from old money and this suits his interests.
Character Appearance: Beautiful and terrifying. Takeshi is not an overly tall individual, indeed his slight build, small stature and delicate features present him as rather fragile individual. Appearances are however, deceptive. His small frame holding the unnatural strength, speed and agility of a vampire. Takeshi has a plethora of scars on his upper torso. The reminders of a violently abusive childhood. It is unlikely that any save those closest to him will be aware of this marring of his skin. He is an intensely private person and is unlikely to reveal the fact willingly.
Strengths:
Artistic
Observant
Focussed
Attention to detail
efficient
Weaknesses:
extreme aversion to disorder, sloppy people,
judgemental
unyielding
often uncompromising
overly disciplined
stubborn
Personality:
Appearances can be deceptive. The innocent face and sweet features of Takeshi belie an inner monstrous nature. A child born of hate he is both beautiful and terrifying. Takeshi is a personality capable of great love and great evil. Those whom he has granted his favour are not only loved deeply but will find his devotion unwavering. Yet should they fail his expectations these same loved ones will meet with the most abhorrent justifications that can be metered out by a being such as Takeshi. He is not only capable of great evil, he thrives on it. He harbours a particularly sadistic malice toward his victims.
A quietly observant young man he is very insightful. Alert and aware he is intently interested in small details. He is insightful having shown a wisdom in his youth that was almost unnatural. It was often said that he was an old soul. This wisdom has followed him and grown throughout his time upon the earth. Highly resourceful, Takeshi wastes nothing and leaves nothing behind. This penchant for wasting nothing has seen his personal wealth has accumulated though he is not extravagant with his wealth. Preferring a much more simplistic lifestyle.
Takeshi is highly aware of his surroundings. His hyper vigilance has protected him throughout the decade. He is known for planning his movements before making them and carefully considering all of his options before making decisions. He will envision that which he wants and set out the steps that will allow him to reach his goal. Takeshi has an acute dislike of being touched. He is not in awe of social interaction and finds it difficult to maintain or even begin a conversation, hence he does not like conversation. He is not fond of talkative people who persist in attempting to draw him into conversation. Preferring instead, to be talked at rather than actually committing to the discourse. Those who feel compelled to share their life with him as they journey to work silently brew his ire. Takeshi also dislikes disorder. His world is highly ordered, obsessively so.
He is an intensely private person and perceives questions about himself as invasions into his privacy. He prefers not to mingle with others, enjoying solitude to the difficulty of communication. This being said, there are a select few that Takeshi is willing to allow into his innermost thoughts and permit himself to enjoy the company of. He lacks the ability to empathise with others and share in their experience. He lives entirely within his own scope and while he is able to mask his personality and project himself as a well adjusted and even likeable if person the truth of his inner workings is far from this. Sadistic tendencies, purposeless and irrational antisocial behaviour, lack of conscience, emotional vacuity, all lead him to an inability to have any truly meaningful relationships. He has failed to develop affectional bonds that would allow him to empathize with another's pain. An individual so self-centred that, in his eyes, no other being matters.
How is your character related to the story? Takeshi is a trained and skilled killer, revelling in the pleasure of killing he is a loose cannon without a purpose. His enjoyment of inflicting pain has been useful to others as a weapon in the past. Either for gaining information or simply to dispatch a foe in the most tormenting of manners. I do not want to say he is a member of the Voltuir nor the Romanians because I think members of the site should determine that. However, his skills would work well with dark designs. For now he could simply be an increasing problem to tose vampires living beneath the treaty and stir up their world a little with concerns for their safety and non disclosure to the world.
Sample of your RP-ing skills:
His acute hearing head her utter her cuss as clearly as if she had said it directly to him. He chose not to watch as she scuttled about the floor collecting the artworks from it. He heard the old woman tutt at him and something flashed in his eyes. A malignant malice. She was lucky they sat in a place somewhere so public. He would happily have dispatched the entire population within the carriage except that such acts in this era drew too much attention. Should he kill so many he would not be able to spend the summer in the small town he had chosen for its lack of summer sun and clouded weather. He licked his teeth and stared out of the window in order to distract himself from his own darker thoughts. He detested being limited like this.
“Nice to meet you Dusty.” He turned to look at her as she spoke to him. The old woman would wait. He reminded himself that there was no conquest in dispatching a human already chasing after death. It placated his mood. He did not like being around humans. Their smell, their frailty, the very things that made them human irritated him. He was hungry, though not starved enough to lose his reason. He had not reached his age without learning to control himself. He normally wore contacts in order to disguise the base colour of his eyes, but he had not had an opportunity to hunt. He had flown over from Japan only yesterday and there was no chance to feed in the confines of the plane nor on the brief distance to the station and so he remained hungry and had no need to disguise the colour of his eyes.
He watched her gather her artwork from the floor and then pause seeing his suitcase. Takeshi liked nice things. He appeared to be young but he was not young. He leaned to look where she did. His smile slipping a little as he noted her tone. “My mother.” He said briefly and definitively. “She does not like people to think we are poor.” His gaze met hers for a moment. His eyes looking deeply into hers without hesitation. A clear and open expression. He shrugged as though helpless behind the concerns of his parents. If only she knew that his mother had never even heard of a suitcase let alone chosen one for him. When she had lived people had used steamer trunks and parcels to travel.
He rubbed the bow of his lip again with his slender finger and leaned back in his seat. He pushed his hair from his eyes and appeared to be somewhat embarrassed by her observation of his bag. He flopped his foot to the floor and leaned forward to rest his elbows upon his knees and stare at the floor of the train. He knew that she watched him after she had returned to her seat. He glanced up at her as she spoke to him. His hair slipping over his porcelain features and framing them, black against white. He looked at his wrist. “Kimiko... my sister, she wanted to be close to me.” He looked at it. The truth was that he had no sister, but he had a family history he had invented, photographs he had taken to collaborate his story and other such human paraphernalia that would convince others of his cover. He had been doing this long enough to be adept at it.
He pulled his suitcase from beneath his feet and un-zippered it. Opening it he revealed the contents for the few minutes that it was open .It was packed neatly. Like a work of origami. This was not something unusual in Japan but he could not tell how she would react. He opened a small bag that had lain atop the clothing and pulled out a camera. He set it beside him on the seat and then deftly zipped up the bag and returned it to his case. With the same grace of movement he closed his suitcase again and stowed it once more beneath his feet. He glanced at her. Turning it on, he pulled up a video of his supposed family and offered it to her. The girl in the video clearly wore the very same friendship bracelet as she waved to the camera. “This is her.” He smiled. “My parents” He stated as the camera turned to the couple. They seemed a happy family. He smiled and nodded his head to Dusty.
