BLACK, damien frederick

[DAMIEN BLACK]

DAMIEN

WHO ARE YOU?
NAME: Damien Frederick Black
BIRTHDAY/AGE: January 9, 1891/120 {Appears 25}
GENDER: Male
SEXUALITY: Heterosexual
OCCUPATION: Serial killer
FACE CLAIM: Eric Balfour


WHAT YOU ARE
SPECIES: Vampire
ALLIANCE: Evil


YOUR SUCCESS
LIKES: Order, bleach, showers, outsmarting people, being superior, learning things, reading, opera music, hardcore metal music, rough sex, foreplay, listening in on other peoples conversations, cell phones with cameras in them, money, technology, planning things out, black ink pens, aviator sunglasses, note pads, white out, chemistry, chloroform, #10 blades, good literature, blood, captioned television, art, big cities, dark colors, debating, hacking into things, tying people up, making people bleed, electricity, thinking, silence, rohypnol, the element of surprise, attention, driving fast, poppers, and LSD
DISLIKES: Chaos, uncooperative people, people who don't appreciate what I do for society, nay-sayers, being called crazy, prison, cell mates, talking to people, public restrooms, the smell of sulfur, pop music, country music, lycra fabric, polyester fabric, stick shifts, clingy people, hospitals, ambulances, EMTs, police officers, parole officers, the month of February, George Bush masks, political affiliations, crying, drivers license photos, DMV offices, rush hour traffic, traffic stops, search warrants, the outdoors, snow, cold weather, gossip magazines, strippers, prostitutes, nancy boys, trashy novels, and emotions
STRENGTHS: Anything that requires actual intelligence, sarcasm, and faking charm
WEAKNESSES: Incredibly paranoid about being caught, lack of social skills, and the undeniable urge to kill
FEARS: Being the prey and being forced to face his crimes
GOALS: Become a legend and go on with his lifestyle without consequence


TELL ME YOUR PAST
MOTHER: Luanne Black
FATHER: Derek Black
SIBLINGS: ---
OTHER: Isabelle Hart
PLACE OF BIRTH: Reno, Nevada
CURRENT RESIDENCE: Meadow Heights, Massachusetts
HISTORY: Conceived, born, and raised on the run, he grew up to be quite the incognito bandito. By the age of fifteen, he was public enemy numero uno. Of course, without a physical description, they couldn't do much to stop him. His crimes were like whispers in the wind on the lips of plenty. The punishment for the crimes he had committed was a noose around his neck and a black bag over his head with his hands chained in front of him. Of course, it was hard to catch the phantom, the one guy that truly escaped capture without breaking a sweat. By twenty, any poor bastard that caught him dead or alive would be set for the rest of their pathetic existence.

After a two years had come and gone, with the price on his head constantly increasing, he met a young woman, whom would be his downfall a year later. Nights of unexplained passion where any man could lose each and every one of his marbles. He would have been just as happier, if not more so, to die of old age in his home with the spoils of his criminal acts lining the walls. Unfortunately, for him and Fiere, this wasn't to be so. Under the blanket of stars, after another successful raid, their romps went too far. Of course, she hadn't meant to do it but accidents happen. In truth, she had only been trying to make him reach the finish line, so to speak..well, he reached it and then some.

With his strong pulse slowly fading, his eyes rolling back into his head, and agony tearing through his body, he didn't know what to do or think or say. It happened slowly. For him, it was the perfect torture, the kind of torture where one screamed for mercy, only to never get retribution. It came slowly, but the end result was in the blink of an eye, a mere fraction of a second. Uncertainty filled him as he jerked upright and rubbed his leg, eyes wild with both fright and confusion. Eyes turned toward her, a silent plea for answers. When she gave no explanation, he grabbed his clothing, pulled it on, and ran for the hills..literally.

He lay low for a few years, getting by on his own terms. When the 1900's rolled around, he had already gotten used to killing others, even enjoyed it. Around 1938, he was finally feeling the loneliness that came with old age, which for him, it was simply irony at its best. During that year, he met Isabelle, easy on the eyes but hell on the heart. He wasn't really sure how to react around her, but he knew she was too good to let pass to old age or at least, that's what his head told him. For a few months, he was either watching her or kicking back in his home. After all, what did one have to worry about when they had no responsibilities?

Finally, when he decided the time was right, he was there to infect her with the same curse that he had been suffering through for the past, eighty-two years. Of course, a year after he had done so, she hated his guts. Luckily for him, he was used to it. He booked it, heading South for the Winter. After that, he lay low, still killing any human dumb enough to get too close. It was about that time that he decided to change his name. With all the media in circulation, he wanted to remain undetected.

He went from being Dimitri Kell to being Damien Black. It cost him a pretty penny and then some. After his name had been changed, he moved back to Massachusetts, where he had the great pleasure of spotting Isabelle again. So, of course, he followed her around, seemingly undetected. What kind of guy would he be if he simply let the girl go, after all? Well, to simplify this, he wasn't about to be that guy. Especially when he found out new things he could use against her as a means to toy with her.


BEHIND THAT MASK
NAME/ALIAS: Uhh...Forge? ._.;;
RP EXPERIENCE: 5+ years
FROM THE RULES: YES! OH YES! OHHHH YEAH! -Koolaid man bursts through the wall- OHHHHHH YEAHHHHHH!!
OTHER CHARACTERS: ---
RP EXAMPLE:

He was lost in thought when his wife approached him. "Hach chi'i. Ayasochid?" He queried softly, pushing his weight off the counter as he went to embrace her. He stood in silence for a few moments as a small smile tugged at his lips. "You needn't worry yourself so much, my love." He murmured, brushing his lips along her temple.

He took a moment to marvel in the close proximity before speaking again. "I was just getting ready to cook, actually. By the by, I went to the store and bought baby furniture." He hesitated, uncertainty flickering across his tanned features. "I've got it on hold until we need it. I got neutral colors and themes." He shrugged, his brow knitting slightly as he lowered his head to her shoulder.

What was it about this woman that made him feel like nothing more than an awkward teenager? It piqued his curiosity, but he never really took the time to investigate the matter. "Mhmm, hey..how would you feel about taking a lazy day today? Just stay inside and watch movies or something..the guys have had me too preoccupied to really pay any attention to the one person who needs it the most. I think they can cope for a day without me around, aye?" He was chuckling as he spoke. Before long, he had her in his arms and was drifting away from the oven with a mischievous look on his face.

He had a plan and one way or another, Emily was going to have a break. "Go ahead and lie down. I'll finish up in the kitchen and bring you some breakfast and a hot cup of coffee. Don't even think about arguing, young lady." He set her down and winked, wagging a finger teasingly in her direction. He wasn't the type to hold such things against her. Really, he didn't care if the house was a mess, if he missed a meal or two, and had the occasional, battered ego.

The only thing he really gave a damn about was making sure Emily was happy and healthy. Another thing, which wasn't so much a necessity as it was a novelty, was the simple fact that she was his imprint; the one he was destined to spend the remainder of his life with. Certainly, he felt guilty for what he had done to Leah but such things couldn't be helped. Hell, he was still paying his dues, considering he was haunted by it each and every day, along with the chilling reminder of what could happen when he lost his temper. If Jared hadn't of heard him that day....he didn't even want to think of what the result may have been. He had felt attracted to her before his first transformation then the moment after his eyes had locked with hers, after the transformation, he imprinted with her. It was small things like that which helped to reestablish his faith in the future.

Even after he had mauled her, she asked for him to visit. The funny thing was that even though he had been the one to put her there, she had forgiven him without a qualm. If he recalled correctly, she had even told him to forgive himself. Of course, he still hasn't been able to achieve that goal, despite the fact it's been over a year...well over a year. He had told her to tell him to kill himself so he could escape the misery that came with the knowledge that he was the one behind her scars. After all that time, he was still doing his best to keep the self-loathing under lock and key around her. He told himself that it was to keep her happy but in reality, it was his own, vain attempts to chase his demons away.

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[OPHELIA]

ACCEPTED

Don't forget the claims and start roleplaying.