Post by Jason on Oct 11, 2006 23:20:25 GMT -5
Name: Christian Brandon
Alias Used: Chris Brand
Celebrity Used: Michael Vartan
D.O.B.: 5/23/1795
D.O.T.: 3/20/1808
Age: 211
Level: Intermediate 3
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 187
Eyes: Green
Hair: Brn
Race: Caucasian
Nationality: English
Languages: English, Spanish, Latin, French, German, Russian
Locations: Kansas (Formally London and NYC)
Fighting Style(s): Boxing, Swordplay, Gun Profiency
Roleplaying Style(s): Gentleman with desires of his own, seeking the desires of others. Sarcastic humor with a flair for irony.
Martial Status: Single
Favorite Place(s): UK (Even as it torments him), NightClubs, His Home in the City
Favorite Music Style(s): Classical Strings and Wind, Modern Club
Original Master: Gerard Tybalt Nigaud
Special Abilities: Telepathy Taught, Presence Cover, Damage Wave
Gifts: The Beautiful Kiss Special - Gerard
History:
Christian Brandon lived what others would call a prosperous life in early 19th century Britain. His family had managed a fairly successful estate and Christian, not being the eldest son, always took it upon himself to raise a bit of hell across the countryside. Despite his youthful troubles, Christian served in the Royal Navy for a brief time during the Napelonic Wars, joining up just to be a thorn in the side of his mother and his older sibling, and to win the favor of Mattie Duncan. He saw some limited action during the Battle of Copenhagen in 1807, taking part in the naval bombardment as well as the taking of the city after the Danish surrender. After the battle, Christian received a discharge from the Royal Fleet and returned to Britain. His return home after having just a taste of reality outside of revelery was a jolt to his friends, family, and fiancee. Christian began drinking more and more, and his funloving ways were tempered by a sometimes biting sarcasm. Despite this, a slightly older French refugee had begun to school Christian in the ways of accounting, investing, so forth at night. What his loved ones did not know was that the refugee, Gerard Tybalt Nigaud, was actually a vampire, schooling Christian in other pursuits.
Gerard had first picked out Christian simply because of his name, something that even today, Christian can laugh about, oh the irony. Gerard had planned to use Christian only as a doll, loving the Englishman's sarcasm, his look, and his strength. Gerard could tell that the man was torn: an urging to remain home, to let the world go to hell, and a deep sense of longing for more, to escape this life of tedium. Plus Gerard had to admit, the man actually could pick up on some things that he was being shown with mind readings in terms of helping aid the investor.
In early 1808, Christian had made up his mind. He would continue his apprenticeship, his learning under the French Banker, but would do so only to finance the future of his fiancee and their future family. His parents and the others in his life, celebrated the decision, finally something wise from the rascal, and planned a ceremony for March 21, the first day of Spring. The night before his wedding, he was presented with another choice, his chance to escape his chains of family, of being second rate, of being, trapped, or so Gerard promised. So on the night before the first day of Spring, the night before his wedding, Christian, filled with fear of his future, filled with a tinge of his youthfulness, decided to join Gerard on his, promise of something more. Little did he realize that the something more involved turning from the light of day, the spring of hope and life, to the darkness and coldness of undeath.
Christian never made it to his wedding, instead, he and Gerard became travelling companions, master and novice, teacher and student. Christian continued to thrive over the years, living it up with Gerard, free from most of the bonds of his mortal life. Yet, he could never, ever find meaning in it all. Even the gifts given to him by Gerard, the heavenly kiss of passion, even the powers to sense what other's minds are thinking, to communicate without speaking, to hide oneself, he was an outsider now, and he begin to long for the other path, the one he should have taken. Time passed, wars came and went, mortals came and went, other creatures, others with powers, came and went, and Christian became moodier and moodier.
After years together, Gerard could see the depression setting itself in on Christian, and the two quarraled more and more. He knew it was time to let the young one on his own, at least for a bit, and so Gerard decided to make Christian sink or swim, much like the officers on the boat who tossed him overboard as new recruit had done. Christian was alone, and in being alone, he actually thrived. It took only a while to find the ironic nature of his name, after all, don't Christians supposedly live forever, never dying. The joke still brings a smile to his face to this day. He decided to make a new life, a new start, in a new land and came to America not long after the turn of the century. Oh the times in New York back then, that city still beats in his head. He took the tools Gerard had provided him, and learned a few new things while in New York City, mastering ways to delve into minds, to find his prey, to protect himself when need be. Fortunately, Christian was always a bit of a mediator, esepcailly after witnessing the surrender that day in Copenhagan, so he rarely made enemies, and made sure not to offend others. He of course, had to be on the lookout for others, the vast majority were like he used to be, not knowing what lays out there, in the "Nightmare" of the world Gerard would say, it's best to have a companion. A companion....
Christian had to return to the UK, it was time for him to see his homeland, even as he shook his head at the prospect of his old family estate cut the length by a roundabout thouroughfare now, even if the thought of the look of his "mortal" parents would make him laugh his loud, deep, sarcastic laugh. So he found himself at one of the London hotspots, some club where the dolls where a dime a dozen just a bout. Sometimes he liked the search, but here, back home, it was nice to be lazy, and let them come to you. Fortunately he knew which ones were clean, which ones weren't addicts or drunks, those could sometimes be interesting, but more troublesome than it's worth. While feeding at the club, rave music bouncing, he saw her there, intriguing him more than any mortal had in decades, maybe longer. There was something about this one, he even stared her down as he finished, and pretended to go join another group, but his eyes never left her the rest of that evening, and for several evenings after that. Why was he being drawn to her, to this simple mortal. He had to know the reasons, the draw for him, maybe he was lonely, maybe he should just call for Gerard somehow, he always knew he could and that his master would be there, but no, it was something.. different. Some night, days, weeks, months later, hell who knows, he saw her, looking wet, and he knew she wasn't thrilled at the process of looking like a rat from his seafaring days, so he turned the corner, umbrella in hand, and there she was, and he leaned forward, his instinct taking over, finally, the ability to taste her, to find the reason, and then, the glow, the jolt, and the thought of her saying stalker as he left suddenly.trying his best to cover himself, knowing the feeling, having the lesson of the necromancer taught to him by Gerard.
Little did Christian realize that he would see this woman, be entranced by her because of that instinctive jolt that night, when he returned back to the City in the States when their paths crossed in Central Park one night. It was definitely her, and this time, he was prepared, and eased her mind, and his, she was just as alone as he was, just as in as much need as he was. It took what seemed to him hours, in actuality was a year or so, to have her convinced he wasn't going to hurt her, he was actually worried that she might come after him. . Soon they spent endless nights chatting.. about her talents, her curse, and Christian's. He pointed her out to some rumors he'd heard about, and they paid off, as for him, he had a different kind of companion, a human, a necromancer, a lover... oh what would Gerard say about her.. one day, Christian may find out... as it was, he knew that she longed for a family, that she used her background and her talents to try to come up with some way, some way to have his family, a real family, not some group of dolls or undead.
Of course, now he was with her, in Kansas City, a place he'd visited a few times. Fortunately, he was always smart enough to pay his respects to those that were here, to not cross the line, and to not step where he didn't need to go. Of course, the last time he was here, he didn't have a companion like her, like Clem...
Ohhhh how a year or so can change the fortunes of the foolish.. she wouldn't give up on their search and he, he had to go overseas for a bit, a trip.. a trip that cost him her faith, and his heritage.. and here he was, back in KC.. back in the land of taboo, and for what... hope... hope is nothing but a prophet.. and like the prophets of today, false...
Alias Used: Chris Brand
Celebrity Used: Michael Vartan
D.O.B.: 5/23/1795
D.O.T.: 3/20/1808
Age: 211
Level: Intermediate 3
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 187
Eyes: Green
Hair: Brn
Race: Caucasian
Nationality: English
Languages: English, Spanish, Latin, French, German, Russian
Locations: Kansas (Formally London and NYC)
Fighting Style(s): Boxing, Swordplay, Gun Profiency
Roleplaying Style(s): Gentleman with desires of his own, seeking the desires of others. Sarcastic humor with a flair for irony.
Martial Status: Single
Favorite Place(s): UK (Even as it torments him), NightClubs, His Home in the City
Favorite Music Style(s): Classical Strings and Wind, Modern Club
Original Master: Gerard Tybalt Nigaud
Special Abilities: Telepathy Taught, Presence Cover, Damage Wave
Gifts: The Beautiful Kiss Special - Gerard
History:
Christian Brandon lived what others would call a prosperous life in early 19th century Britain. His family had managed a fairly successful estate and Christian, not being the eldest son, always took it upon himself to raise a bit of hell across the countryside. Despite his youthful troubles, Christian served in the Royal Navy for a brief time during the Napelonic Wars, joining up just to be a thorn in the side of his mother and his older sibling, and to win the favor of Mattie Duncan. He saw some limited action during the Battle of Copenhagen in 1807, taking part in the naval bombardment as well as the taking of the city after the Danish surrender. After the battle, Christian received a discharge from the Royal Fleet and returned to Britain. His return home after having just a taste of reality outside of revelery was a jolt to his friends, family, and fiancee. Christian began drinking more and more, and his funloving ways were tempered by a sometimes biting sarcasm. Despite this, a slightly older French refugee had begun to school Christian in the ways of accounting, investing, so forth at night. What his loved ones did not know was that the refugee, Gerard Tybalt Nigaud, was actually a vampire, schooling Christian in other pursuits.
Gerard had first picked out Christian simply because of his name, something that even today, Christian can laugh about, oh the irony. Gerard had planned to use Christian only as a doll, loving the Englishman's sarcasm, his look, and his strength. Gerard could tell that the man was torn: an urging to remain home, to let the world go to hell, and a deep sense of longing for more, to escape this life of tedium. Plus Gerard had to admit, the man actually could pick up on some things that he was being shown with mind readings in terms of helping aid the investor.
In early 1808, Christian had made up his mind. He would continue his apprenticeship, his learning under the French Banker, but would do so only to finance the future of his fiancee and their future family. His parents and the others in his life, celebrated the decision, finally something wise from the rascal, and planned a ceremony for March 21, the first day of Spring. The night before his wedding, he was presented with another choice, his chance to escape his chains of family, of being second rate, of being, trapped, or so Gerard promised. So on the night before the first day of Spring, the night before his wedding, Christian, filled with fear of his future, filled with a tinge of his youthfulness, decided to join Gerard on his, promise of something more. Little did he realize that the something more involved turning from the light of day, the spring of hope and life, to the darkness and coldness of undeath.
Christian never made it to his wedding, instead, he and Gerard became travelling companions, master and novice, teacher and student. Christian continued to thrive over the years, living it up with Gerard, free from most of the bonds of his mortal life. Yet, he could never, ever find meaning in it all. Even the gifts given to him by Gerard, the heavenly kiss of passion, even the powers to sense what other's minds are thinking, to communicate without speaking, to hide oneself, he was an outsider now, and he begin to long for the other path, the one he should have taken. Time passed, wars came and went, mortals came and went, other creatures, others with powers, came and went, and Christian became moodier and moodier.
After years together, Gerard could see the depression setting itself in on Christian, and the two quarraled more and more. He knew it was time to let the young one on his own, at least for a bit, and so Gerard decided to make Christian sink or swim, much like the officers on the boat who tossed him overboard as new recruit had done. Christian was alone, and in being alone, he actually thrived. It took only a while to find the ironic nature of his name, after all, don't Christians supposedly live forever, never dying. The joke still brings a smile to his face to this day. He decided to make a new life, a new start, in a new land and came to America not long after the turn of the century. Oh the times in New York back then, that city still beats in his head. He took the tools Gerard had provided him, and learned a few new things while in New York City, mastering ways to delve into minds, to find his prey, to protect himself when need be. Fortunately, Christian was always a bit of a mediator, esepcailly after witnessing the surrender that day in Copenhagan, so he rarely made enemies, and made sure not to offend others. He of course, had to be on the lookout for others, the vast majority were like he used to be, not knowing what lays out there, in the "Nightmare" of the world Gerard would say, it's best to have a companion. A companion....
Christian had to return to the UK, it was time for him to see his homeland, even as he shook his head at the prospect of his old family estate cut the length by a roundabout thouroughfare now, even if the thought of the look of his "mortal" parents would make him laugh his loud, deep, sarcastic laugh. So he found himself at one of the London hotspots, some club where the dolls where a dime a dozen just a bout. Sometimes he liked the search, but here, back home, it was nice to be lazy, and let them come to you. Fortunately he knew which ones were clean, which ones weren't addicts or drunks, those could sometimes be interesting, but more troublesome than it's worth. While feeding at the club, rave music bouncing, he saw her there, intriguing him more than any mortal had in decades, maybe longer. There was something about this one, he even stared her down as he finished, and pretended to go join another group, but his eyes never left her the rest of that evening, and for several evenings after that. Why was he being drawn to her, to this simple mortal. He had to know the reasons, the draw for him, maybe he was lonely, maybe he should just call for Gerard somehow, he always knew he could and that his master would be there, but no, it was something.. different. Some night, days, weeks, months later, hell who knows, he saw her, looking wet, and he knew she wasn't thrilled at the process of looking like a rat from his seafaring days, so he turned the corner, umbrella in hand, and there she was, and he leaned forward, his instinct taking over, finally, the ability to taste her, to find the reason, and then, the glow, the jolt, and the thought of her saying stalker as he left suddenly.trying his best to cover himself, knowing the feeling, having the lesson of the necromancer taught to him by Gerard.
Little did Christian realize that he would see this woman, be entranced by her because of that instinctive jolt that night, when he returned back to the City in the States when their paths crossed in Central Park one night. It was definitely her, and this time, he was prepared, and eased her mind, and his, she was just as alone as he was, just as in as much need as he was. It took what seemed to him hours, in actuality was a year or so, to have her convinced he wasn't going to hurt her, he was actually worried that she might come after him. . Soon they spent endless nights chatting.. about her talents, her curse, and Christian's. He pointed her out to some rumors he'd heard about, and they paid off, as for him, he had a different kind of companion, a human, a necromancer, a lover... oh what would Gerard say about her.. one day, Christian may find out... as it was, he knew that she longed for a family, that she used her background and her talents to try to come up with some way, some way to have his family, a real family, not some group of dolls or undead.
Of course, now he was with her, in Kansas City, a place he'd visited a few times. Fortunately, he was always smart enough to pay his respects to those that were here, to not cross the line, and to not step where he didn't need to go. Of course, the last time he was here, he didn't have a companion like her, like Clem...
Ohhhh how a year or so can change the fortunes of the foolish.. she wouldn't give up on their search and he, he had to go overseas for a bit, a trip.. a trip that cost him her faith, and his heritage.. and here he was, back in KC.. back in the land of taboo, and for what... hope... hope is nothing but a prophet.. and like the prophets of today, false...