The Vampire Mercutio
Vampire Bio
Name
The Vampire Mercutio
Player
Phantom Pistoleer
Age
450 Years
Claimed Doll
N/A
Dark Gift
Wall of Will
Orientation
Pansexual
Hair
Short black hair
Eyes
Almond Brown
Height
6'1
Appearance
This vampire shill bears a countenance shorn smooth by a turning at tender years. It is an artificial youth captured in undeath, its glory made evident by experience wrought by the passage of time. A handsome, prominent chin lays at the feet of a most welcoming visage, which in turn is punctured and thus accented by a pair of very dark eyes, laying in wait 'neath the shadow of a broad forehead. A lithe body, in life sculpted by hard work as a farmer, holds aloft that head that so many aristocrats fancied in days long gone. While he lays asleep, he looks the part of the innocent--but to look into his lingering and questioning gaze is to know deviancy.
Personality
This vampire is unlike other vampires, a vagabond amongst kings. There are none in his entire confidence, though many would hold counsel with him. He is prescient and playful, capable of discerning the tides of change prior to social upheavals, but is a most unwilling prophet. There are whispers that he is mad, and in his madness, he has come to some great knowledge. And, indeed, this vampire has become quite learned in human matter, and perhaps some other matters, too. Other creatures of the night beware him, while God's creatures find him interesting, eclectic, and even a little playful.
Ons & Offs
This vampire enjoys exhibitionism, voyeurism, group sex, and BDSM. He hates romance.
History
"I was born in the middle of a wonderful century, whence the great historical figures were either men of war or men of exploration, and butchers of humankind all the same. Like all vampires, I was mother-born, but fate was cruel to me, and so I was not mother-raised. She died of scarlet fever during my infancy. My father, to whom I was a bastard, was a captain in the Maltese navy. Upon my birth, his head had already rotted on the Ottoman's pike for four fortnights. In my mother's family's modest household I was kept, a babe to become a farmer. Needless to say, things were harder then. My old home, made of thatch and stone, is now a hotel of modest means.
"The young man enjoys farming. He gets finished with his work quickly, and is at liberty to fish or flirt with the daughters of woodsmen and ranchers. I had never known anything beyond a meager living, and thus I rejoiced at such an opportunity at freedom. But these periods were frequently dotted with moments of unrest. The barbary pirates struck terror in the hearts of my Maltese compatriots, and more than on one occasion did I have to bear the pole-arm in defense of my people. During one of these engagements is when I met a Spanish viscount, to whom I became a batboy, then his valet, and then his lover.
"... Viscount Henriquez Donoval had a Letter of Marque from his Crown to make war against nations and to seize their property at sea. He made a large fortune as a privateer, and in his retirement, settled into a luxurious apartment near the palace gates in Madrid. There, I wiled my way in court, accompanying my beloved Donoval to his elegant soirees. I do not begrudge that he gambled me away. At that time, he was in financial straits. But if only he had not given me to the Lady Contessa, whose abject cruelty scorched my mind, body, and soul. The Lady was brutal and she made me suffer great humiliation. She made me weep for death when she tortured me, but she ensured my survival by converting me into a vampire.
"Unbeknownst to me, the Lady--whom I called my mistress and was forced to adore--broke a sacred law in giving me unlife. I was not given a choice to walk on this earth forever. When the others discovered her treachery, she was destroyed. I still recall how she begged for me to recant my testimony. She said: 'but Mercutio, my love, tell them that I saved you! That you were dying! And that you consented to my kiss!' And I said, 'None of what you say is true. I would rather to perish now along your side, than to make false my original oath that you are a monster who robbed me of my mortality!' I watched her burn, and again, I was an orphan.
"... I travelled the world, and I fought against the dark tribes of man on three continents for two centuries as a sellsword for religious pilgrimages. Under the cover of darkness, I struck terror with my double-sided scimitar, and cut close many beards with this fangled blade. Then, I got lost. I became deeply aware of my loneliness, and of the absence of God in my life. Most of all, I was simply tired of fighting. The next century, I spent in England, learning the new sciences, attempting to become a philosopher of life, instead of administering so keenly the great matter of death. I rejoiced at my intellectual advancement.
"But battle kept summoning me. I fought in the Crimean against Russia, and then with Russia against Napoleon. I fought in the great American Civil War, and participated in the revolutions of the new nations south of the equator, both in the Americas and in Africa. Wars are fought in the deserts now, laden with the debris of once great cities. Baghdad was once beautiful, and so was Kabul; but they are not so any more. It is difficult for me now to participate in wars whence the sun always pounds the sand, and so I have left that to humans, or more adventurous once-humans, or never-humans.
"... Now, I simply drift. I have dissolved into an ennui, like the elders bespoken of in myth and laden in legend. I simply drift."
