Post by Garetth Shepard on Apr 28, 2009 8:53:10 GMT -5
"Everything I touch, I break"
Name: Garetth Shepard
Age: 45
True Age: 252
Sex: Male
Location: Unknown pernament location, currently in Seattle.
"I scratch and tear until it bleeds."
Appearance: Rugged and handsome in his appearance, Garetth lacks the youthful charming looks that many of his kind possess, having been changed when he was much older than they. Age had a good hold upon him before the venom hit his veins, and his graying hair and slightly wrinkled face shows that clearly. Slate green eyes that were as clear as day have watched the relentless march of time, his face always coated in stubble, no razor ever seeming to be able to give him that clean shave. His hair is a light shade of brown, small silver and gray streaks cutting through it giving his mature appearance a final definition. His body is still toned for an older gentleman, and is often seen in fine business suits.
"I cant wait to break you"
Personality:Garetth is what he is. A charming, manipulative, power hungry vampire. Older then most, and by far wiser, he has the ego to match his age. He has played hands in dozens of wars worldwide over the past two hundred years and has prospered from them, although his hunger for carnage has never been sated. Knowing what sides to choose, and what battles to throw away, Garetth is a master of the modern world... or at least he thinks so. Able to lead most humans and even some lesser supernatural beings into just about anything he usually projects an overwhelming aura of authority. Given that much of his dirty work is done by underlings who seldom understand the nature of their leader.
Seemingly quiet and reserved, he would much rather sit in a coffee shop and watch his supper drink happily with her lover than outright attack. The hunt interests him but only with certain prey, W.A.S.P's being his favorite. Violent and macabre games are his sport.
Power/Ability: Strengths: Garetth has a preternatural charisma about him which feeds into his ability to gain the loyalty of others. He inspires and impresses people wherever he goes.
Weaknesses: His war lust. He wished to fight in every war possible, but seeing he was robbed of his second chance, he is determined to make his own so he can be victorious.
Special Abilities Garetth has exceptional knowledge of warfare, weaponry, tactics and strategy.
Garetth can inspire loyalty to him in others provided that the person or persons targeted are open to suggestion (so NPCs and only willing players).
Likes:
History books
War movies
Going to old museums
Collecting Nazi memerobila
Hunting
Dislikes:
The 'unpure' vampires
Most humans
History: Garetth was born in Germany in the mid seventeen-hundreds. . His father was a weapon-smith and his mother a simple housewife. His father dictated much of his younger life, sending him to private school and then a military academy. In 1776 Garetth who was 19 at the time, along with 18,000 other soldiers arrived in the Americas as the first wave of Hessian soldiers. Fighting within the early American wars along side the British, he got his first taste of battle and was addicted to it easily, seeing it was his father's dream to have his son decorated with medals. His bloodlust in mortal life and his attendance at and escape from the battle for Chatterton Hill led many to believe that he was the inspiration for the story of 'The Headless Horseman'.
When the war ended in 1783, he was among the lucky ones to be sent home. 32 at the time, he tried to do what any good man would: find a wife and have children. Sadly due to his 'personality flaws' he was unable to find a 'suitable wife' and the few that he came close to met violent and scandalous ends. Drifting to bars and trying to serve in any military, he soon found himself an aging man with little to show for it. But then his fortune changed for the better.
At the age of 45 was when he was changed )) I wont go into detail, seeing I don’t think everything about the character should be told just in history and some things are better found out in RP(( . The power of the newborn found a willing and ready vessel in Garetth. He made his way through Germany slaughtering all whom he wished too. Gaining more control of his abilities and powers, he began to refocus his obsession with the lusts of a soldier to the designs of a warmonger and all just in time to revel in the first World war. Although over 40 million died in this war, Garetth not only was not injured, but seemed to outdo even the leaders of his company, quickly climbing the ranks to become a top General of the German Army.
WWII, however, took quite the different turn for him. Hilter's unexpected obsession with the occult nearly ensnared Garetth as a trophy for the Nazis, when all he desired was to bring about as grisly and decisive a victory as possible for them. He promptly dropped his name and fled the country to escape capture.
Bitter for not having the chance to fight another war, Garetth haunted the Americas, feeding as he pleased but finding it harder and harder to slip through the cracks as the wanton monster that he had been in years gone. When feeling rather daring, he murders high society victims and sometimes out in plain sight.
"My Life, My Pain, I hate my darkest days"
Role Play Sample: Burning. Baptized within the fire of battle, the figure walked atop the weak and the wounded, the blood squeezing between the creases of the boots that treaded upon the dead with no honor. There was no honor in death. Only the eternity of known that within your last moment, your moment to shine, you failed and felled in painful agony. No one could ease that pain. Or take it away.
'Fight for your freedom...'
'Kill and you will be free....'
'Free...'
Each breath brought the scents of battle to the lungs. Blood was heavy within the air, along with urine and sweat. The true fighters cologne. But the scent didn't seem to suit this warrior. This battle didn't. It was too easy. One or two strokes at the most. Nails splintered from shredding into bone and tendons, made quick work of the weak necks of the enemies. It was almost unfair. For this was this being only purpose. To kill. But not under these commands. No. This being was trained to kill to protect. To save. Yet who was he saving now? No one. Himself. A selfish act of bloody glory. And oh what a sight it was.
His pale skin was anything but. Saturated, dripping with the blood from those beneath him and before him, he looked more like a ghost from nighttime tales. Where the others would wince when the final blow was given, his sea-foam eyes did not blink. Intently they gazed upon his victim as the last bit of life fell from there body, and he released them to the carpet of the damned below. Every muscle within his body was screaming with the heat and strain of all the movements. That was good. He could feel. He was alive. When the pain stopped, your breath stopped. As good as he was, it was a unfair advantage. Experience. That’s what most of these men lacked. And that’s where he triumphed. A small battle however internal was raging within his mind. Should he hold back? Being good was one thing. But being that of a true warrior was another. A sharp hiss of breath stung his lungs as the man turned, nails digging within the eyes of the one so foolish to attack him upon the back while he was thinking. Even if he lived, the last thing he would have saw was his face. His beautiful, macabre face. Twisted with the ecstasy of battle, the euphoria of the blood that ran along his muscles. Hot, slick, sticky. This was his wine. Yet even as this battle raged, his mind kept repeating...
Freedom...
Freedom...
Free.
