Post by lucian on Nov 23, 2009 21:44:37 GMT -5
;;Lucian Aurel Antonescu
Is Entering Sins of Impunity
Is Entering Sins of Impunity
It’s All About You
Behind the Puppet Master
::NAME::
Nicole
::AGE:
18
::GENDER::
Girl
::RP EXPERIENCE::
Four years
::CONTACTING YOU::
Private messaging, instant messaging, email
::ACTIVITY::
About two hours a day, maybe more, maybe less ;; GMT-7 Mountain
::THE PUPPETS::
None as of yet
The Identification Tag
Character Basics
::ALIAS::
Lucian, or Ian
::NAME::
Lucian Aurel Antonescu
::GENDER::
Male
::ORIENTATION::
Heterosexual/Straight
::REAL AGE::
480
::PHYSICAL AGE::
Late twenties-early thirties ;; most commonly assumed to be 30
::SPECIES::
Vampire
::SIRE::
Lady Nadja Buckland
::RELIGIOUS AFFILIATION::
Atheist
::WEALTH::
A large amount located in a tomb in Egypt. With him? Next to nothing.
::JOB::
Repairer of old books. He received his fortune by killing his sire and stealing her money. He has not used a penny of it, however.
Where Your Abilities Fall
The Character Talents
::STRENGTHS::
1. Repairing books
2. Self-control
3. Confidence
4. Sense of honor
::SUMMARY::
For a vampire, Ian has amazing self-control. He can keep himself in check at the smell of blood, although that might have more to do with how picky he is about what kind of blood he drinks. He is a relatively calm person, and confidence runs strong in his veins. He is confident about his powers, his looks, and his speech. He is even confident about things that he does poorly at--such as dancing. Lucian also has a very strong sense of honor, not attacking those who are weak, old, young, or frail. He only preys on the strong, those who may defend themselves against his onslaught. But his biggest ability lies in his ability to repair old books. He knows exactly how to make them look as they once did. No, he never simply puts new binding on. He fixes them, but allows them to retain their original integrity.
::WEAKNESS::
1. Not dependable
2. Inability to make or keep money
3. Being a habitual liar
4. Not remotely graceful.
::SUMMARY::
If ever there was a man who had two left feet, that man would be Lucian. He is almost incapable of performing any act that requires a great deal of coordination, dancing, or sometimes even walking. To make matters worse he is a habitual liar, to the point where he lies about almost every single thing he does or says. But then, since he enjoys goading others, that is no problem, per say. Except when he actually wants to be truthful, but is incapable of such. Adding in the fact that he is completely undependable only makes him even more offsetting. When someone asks him to do something, he normally agrees, and than goes and does something else entirely, almost never even getting back to the person who first asked him the favor. As if matters were not already bad enough, Ian is also completely incapable of making money. Now of course being a book repairer is a limited occupation, but still. And the money he does make gets spent, or lost soon afterword.
The More Human Side of Things
Human Appearance
::HAIR::
Brown with natural blond highlights
::EYES::
Blue-green
::HEIGHT::
6 feet exactly
::WEIGHT::
180 pounds
:MARKS::
A scar in the shape of a horseshoe on his right shoulder blade. Another thin one through his right eyebrow.
::SKIN TONE::
Light-slightly tan
::BODY TYPE::
Average
::CLOTHES::
Black shirts, most often sleeveless, black pants, most often cargo. Sometimes a bit of color mixed in; faded blue jeans, white shirts. All his clothes have patched holes.
::SUMMARY::
In one word Lucian looks like a bum. Dirty, patched up clothes, shoes held together with stitches -- courtesy of his own hand, and an unshaven face. When he was alive he was told that his most attractive feature was his eyes, which are a clear blue-green color, reflecting his thoughts clearly. At the time his thoughts were much more innocent and happy. Now his eyes are clouded, the rest of his features hard. He has a scar located through his right eyebrow from a bar brawl some ten years back that never got a chance to heal, as well as a horseshoe shaped one on his back from an accident in his youth. His hair, though dark, has natural highlights, but is always styled quite messily; short, tousled, with too-long sideburns.
Personality is Everything
How They Might Act
::LIKES::
1. Very old books
2. Fine wine
3. The dead of night
4. Thievery
5. Beautiful women
6. The smell of rain
::DISLIKES::
1. Mornings
2. Seafood
3. Getting lost
4. Being called a man-whore, male slut, flirt, or any such thing
5. Rapists
6. People who commit crimes without even a shred of honor
::FLAWS::
1. Undependable
2. Dishonest
3. No sense of humour
4. No sense of direction
5. Sees situations in black and white, good and evil; no gray
6. Horrible short-term memory
::BLESSINGS::
1. Laziness. It may not seem like a blessing, but to humans, it is
2. Cordial, if not sometimes polite
3. Sense of chivalry
::SUMMARY::
With many flaws, Lucian could never be called perfect. He is, in fact, as far from being perfect as one could get. He is completely undependable, normally not even coming through on the most basic of tasks. He is also a liar through and through. He lies about his age, his race, his sexual orientation, his name, his likes, even something as ridiculous as his favorite color. Though that could be called a defense mechanism, he calls it more of a habit of sorts. He is prone to getting lost quite often, and most commonly ends up in places miles away from where he actually wants to be. Added to the mix is his short term memory, which is almost non-existent. He has had to ask names many times in the past to be able to remember them, and even if he receives directions for a task, he often forgets what they were after only ten minutes or so.
But, despite his flaws, he has some good points as well. Ian is quite lazy, which although may not seem like a good point, actually is. For humans, anyway. He is normally too lazy to attack or kill a human, unless he is starving, so most humans he comes by get to live another day. Unless of course they are then killed by someone else. He is also very cordial to all, not easily angered. Despite not having a sense of humour, he knows how to be polite to people and keep from getting others angered. And his sense of chivalry is even greater. He has a habit of opening doors for women, pulling out chairs, helping them find their way home -- although that is not necessarily a good thing. He will also attempt to help a "damsel in distress", if he is in one of his lesser lazy moods.
Checking Out the Background
Historical Stuff
::FAMILY MEMBERS::
Father ;; Dorin Luciano Antonescu ;; deceased
Mother ;; Taleatha Risa Antonescu ;; deceased
Sire/Lover ;; Lady Nadja Buckland ;; deceased
::BIRTH PLACE::
Moldavia, Romania
::CHILDHOOD:
Bits and pieces, but not much substantial information. Occasionally he remembers little things, like his mother's favorite flower, or what his favorite toy was when he was a youth.
::TRANSFORMATION::
Foolishly he stayed out late at night, despite the advice of his friends. A vampire who was preying on the local villagers saw him by the lake, and took her chance to attack. However, he managed to convince her to change him instead of killing him, which she grudgingly did -- later to her own peril, for less than ten years after he killed her.
::PREY::
Humans, but only the strongest ones. He does not pray on humans that are not able to defend themselves against him.
::FANG POWER::
Nothing specific is special about his fangs. They are just average, elongated canines he uses to feed.
::TURNING OTHERS::
In order to turn others Ian would exchange blood with the person, although as of yet he has not turned a single human.
::HISTORY::
Lucian Antonescu, born in the middle of the 17th century, has never really gotten used to the changing of times. His home town, a small one in Romania, was one known for the sheep they herd. However, despite the town's infamy, it was very much still stuck in the middle ages. They stuck to the beliefs taught by their forefathers-forefathers, not wanting to believe any new ideas that may become common knowledge in the rest of the world. His parents were uncommonly inordinate for their village. Dorin Antonescu, the village blacksmith, ventured into another country entirely in his youth, returning with a bride and a young child. His bride, Lucian's mother, was ten years his junior, only sixteen at the time of their marriage and his birth. Although it was covered up, yes, his birth was out of wedlock.
As Ian aged his parents soon learned that he was more intelligent than any other child in the village, devouring any book he got his little hands on. The villagers were wary of him, saying it was unnatural for a young child to read so much, that he should be out socializing with the other young bucks his age. But he had no interest in them, becoming more and more introverted as the years past. He only, in fact, ventured from his home on the outskirts of the village to the village itself when it was absolutely called for.
On one such occasion he heard the baker tell one of the hunters that Taleatha, Ian's mother, was a gypsy. The baker had sound scared, as though that was a bad thing. The baker said that gypsy's were bad blood and that her presence would bring destruction to the village. The hunter agreed, saying that gypsies were as bad as the Evil Ones, and that they must be despised of. Sensing something from the men, the ten-year-old child ran home at once and told his mother what he had heard. When she cried he became even more confused. What had he done to cause tears on her beautiful face? He had not thought the words to be that offensive or menacing. But she had obviously sensed something in them that he had not.
The next morning Lucian awoke to find his mother gone and his father weeping. It was the one time he ever saw tears on the strong blacksmith's face, and it shocked him to his very core. His father simply told him, when he asked, that his mother had to go away to visit her family back in Egypt, a statement that Ian believed at the time. After all, why should he not trust his father? The man had given his son no reason to distrust him as of yet.
Soon after Lucian made a few close friends in the village; a girl by the name of Amanka, and a boy, Tobias. They all became quite closer indeed, doing everything together, into their twenties. In time Amanka and Tobias married, producing two heirs. They made Ian the godfather. Ten years passed, and the three friends remained close, although the couple worried about their still single friend. He was already three decades old, and had yet to meet a girl who had managed to catch his interest for longer than a few days. The village had grown in the past thirty annuals, and many had come to the village in that time. But the most attention Ian had given a single woman had been a peck on the cheek. Although there were rumours that he had had affairs with many of the village women. None had been substantiated, anyway.
In his thirtieth year there came rumours of a vampire coming to the village. Although Ian believed them to merely be superstition, the rest of the village believed it to be true. Everyone was warned not to venture out of their homes at night, should they value their lives. But Lucian was curious as to whether the rumours could really be true or not, and did indeed make a plan to go out in the dead of night. Amanka and Tobias tried to dissuade him, but he was not going to let them. And so he left his home one night, having no idea that he would never return again -- alive, anyway.
At the lake he met Lady Nadja Buckland, an Egyptian woman who was beauty itself. Never had a woman so before captivated him. He saw in her all of the qualities he commended in a woman, plus more. But when he approached her he got more than he bargained for. He learned that she was indeed a vampire, and a deadly one at that. She threatened to kill him, and out of fear, he begged for his life, not a remotely dignified thing to do. And yet, with her, it seemed to work. Instead of killing him she turned him into a vampire, one of her own kind. They quickly left the village when a party of hunters arrived to kill her, and soon afterward became lovers.
However, Lucian got angry with her, for he learned that although he loved her greatly, Nadja only cared for him as a fling. She had many others in addition to him, that she could call a lover. So, in a fit of jealous rage, he killed her. Shocked by his own actions, he secluded himself with her body in her tomb in Egypt for a full month before he finally got up the strength to bury her. After burying her body he closed the tomb, locking her body and all of the gold inside up, to be buried under the sand, never to be found by another. He swore to make right her death, to repent, even though he no longer believed in Heaven and Hell. Besides, what did he care? He was already dead. What could be worse? Losing Nadja, that was what. He also swore he would never touch a single penny of the gold stored in the tomb.
For hundreds of years he wandered throughout Europe and Asia, parts of Africa even, learning how to repair books in order to make a living. He kept his oath, not killing a single one of the humans he has fed off of. Nor has he turned a single soul, not wanting to risk doing to another what was done to him. Over the years his conscience grew smaller, and he also grew lazier. He quickly stopped taking pride in his appearance, and became in no uncertain terms, a bum. He stopped caring what people thought of him, or what they said. Words could not hurt him any longer.
One hundred years ago he moved to New York, wanting to start over in a new country, tired of the monotony that had set in after the first few hundred years of his endless life. As always he had to move though, after a few years, in order to keep from garnering suspicion from the humans. It worked, as it always did, and now, nearly a full century later, he has returned, deeming enough time passed in order to return without being recognized. He hopes that his business will do well in the great city once more, and perhaps he will finally finish paying for killing Nadja. As well as finally learn what happened to his mother, whom he learned did not just go and visit her family when she left, so long ago.
Your Own Mad Skills
How Good Are You?
::CODE WORD::
'do the mashed potatoe, do the twiste'
::APPLICATION STATUS::
Incomplete
::RP EXAMPLE::The moon was full on another glorious night. The air was just beginning to cool off from the heat of the day, as was usual in the deserts of Egypt. A lone figure stood on a dune, staring up at the empty black sky. Not a single star was to be seen for miles, though at this time of year the sky should have been clear enough to see them. But not tonight. No, tonight was cloudy, as the day ad been. Yet another rarity for this time of year in Egpyt.
Now the figure finally moved, though it had been stationary for over an hour now. The figure sat down on the rough sand, his body moving languidly, unhurried. What was the need for a rush when anything could be done slowly? It was so much more relaxing this way, he believed. The man cupped his hand, his long fingers pressed tightly together, and ran it through the sand. Raising it he stared at it for a heartbeat before parting his fingers ever-so-slightly, just enough so that the fine grains could sift to meet their brethren once again.
Dark eyes continued to watch as the grains moved, his already superior vision enhanced by the bright harvest moon high above. Lucian Antonescu released a long breath of air in a sigh, one of the few things he did that showed him to be what he once was. A human. Now he was no longer such, for could a creature that no longer lived truly be called human? Alas, he was truly dead, and had been for quite some time. Hundreds of years, to be exact. He still retained some of his more human tendencies, like appearing to breathe, however, in order to blend in better with society, and so he himself would not feel so abnormal... so... Hellenistic.
A small smirk came to the man's features. Hellenistic... what a term... once he would shy away from even mentioning anything to do with Hell. And now... now he could care less about where he went when he was eventually killed. He knew exactly where he was going to go, and it mattered not to him. His black clothes, a frock coat and long pants rubbed against his sin, their worn fibers scratchy against his skin, as a slight breeze came along the sandy plains of the desert. Closing his eyes the vampire, for that was exactly what he was, thought of a long since passed scent of lavender and freesia.
It was the flowery scent of her... the woman who had both changed his life and cursed it. "Nadja..." his soft voice echoed around him in the silence. That was all he said, her name. His sire, his savior, his curse, his one love. Lucian kept his eyes closed until he could no longer smell her. Opening his eyes then he knew what he was going to do. What he... had to do. He was going to go to New York, to try and start his life anew once more. A funny thought, that, since he did so every few years... only this time would be his first visit across the sea.
It would be hard... but he knew it must be done. His face was becoming to recognizable on this continent. It was time for a change. And so, with a small grunt, he pushed off from the sand and began walking, aimlessly, not knowing where to begin, but knowing exactly where he was headed.
