Post by Tristan Serrano on Sept 15, 2009 10:51:17 GMT -5
Tristan Serrano
211. MALE. Sadistic. VAMPIRE
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WHAT CAN YOU DO?Tristan is still a young vampire, and although he was made by a thousand year old vampire he still have yet discovered or mastered all of the harder techniques. One of his better skills is his aptitude of telepathy. He has mastered it to the point where he can control the minds of others and bend them to his will, commanding them to do as he says. He mainly uses his telepathy for seductive reasons. Easily attracting women or men in order to get something out them that he wants.
The only other ability that he has mastered from his sire’s long list of abilities is flight. And although he can commit himself to full flight, it only drains his capacity of blood and forces him to either go in a mindless frenzy or forces him to drink blood nearly immediately. So in order not to go into a frenzy, he usually only just levitates.
His other basic skills are extremely superhuman speed, and strength. Like the rest of his kind, he is slightly immune to the sun – feeling on a minor tingling sensation when he’s out in the sun for too long.
TELL US ALL ABOUT YOU!A young Vampire, and the fledging apprentice to Azazella Becanus. Tristan Erebus was not born of the Vampire descent, he was simply turned. He was born in 1798 in Vienna. The son of a poor mother and an abusive father, growing up was very tragic for him. He was constantly at head with his father, but his love for his two sisters (Morgana / Valeria) gave him a reason to stay. Tristan could not come to terms that his mother had once been a worker at a local brothel, but her reasoning for changing was because of him, and he could find some nobility in that. But as a boy he was selfless, and knew nothing of greed. But his aggressive feelings emerged when his father raped his youngest sister.
It was in that moment that Tristan murdered his father, and left the homestead, in search for a better life for himself. He was 17 and it was 1815, Tristan eventually stumbled upon a group of seafarers. The seafarers crossed even the darkest of lands, until they crashed upon the lands of newly colonizing states of America. On the beachfront of this land, sometime soon after he arrived, Tristan was nearly killed.
Taken to safety by unknown assailants, Tristan found himself awakened by a man who revealed himself as the Count of Novena and his confidant Azazella Becanus. He offered Tristan a choice to live or die. Tristan chose the option to live, and it was then that Azazella Becanus converted Tristan into a Vampire. As a Vampire, Tristan had a lot of living up to do under his sire’s vast image. He has tried to live up to her name in many ways, even bedding her on numerous occasions.
Despite his peaceful nature, Tristan is a very hardened warrior. Like all normal Vampire, except the Elders, Tristan desires and needs to feed every day; unless he fills his stomach with an abundant amount of blood. This makes Tristan more vulnerable as he has still not come to terms completely as being a vampire. Some believe that he may be able to overcome his lust for blood one day since he was bitten by an elder sire. Only time and determination will tell.
Yet because of his influence from his sire Azazella, others had turned their eyes to Tristan as well. His sire's chief rival Lysander who was just as old as Azazella but too greedy and power hungry. He did happen to explain to Tristan the very nature of being a Vampire. Even going into deep detail of the history and a couple tales of the oldest Vampires in their history.
But it wasn’t until the schisms in the late 1980s between his Vampire coven that Tristan became somewhat lost and confused in where he belonged. There were ‘loyalists’ who believed Azazella was the correct leader in her pacifist ways to better the race as a whole. Then there were the “martial forces” who believed in the Count of Novena ways to serve and to end wars. Tristan has been influenced by two people in his life as a Vampire; his sire, Azazella who is a loyalist and his “father figure” Lysander who was apart of the “martial forces.” Since the schism has begun, Tristan does not know what path to follow and where his loyalty belongs.
He has recently moved to New York in order to escape from his obligations to his sire and the coven. Unlikely for him, he doesn’t believe his maker will let him go willingly. And so he desires to hide himself away in the crowd of New York… or find a new coven to help shelter him...
wow, i'm glad to be joining URBAN ARCANA. my name just so happens to be Mr. Grey, and the celebrity who i am using just so happens to be Cam Gigandet13+ years, so i pretty much know how this all works.
The wind gusted and blew; its silent and disturbing nature might have frightened someone of its deadly disposition. But faceless to the eyes of fear this rebirth had been in the making nearly two centuries ago when he heard of whispers after his distant fall into his grave. Things had to play out, much like life had to. And this was the moment he had been waiting for. But yet there had been nothing. No moment. No fanfare. Until suddenly there was a thicket. A tremble. A vibration of undead life. And then suddenly… ash and brimstone took the tomb, forcing upon its shape a fiery damnation unforeseen to the eye of man. Afire and jolting this tomb trembled, sadistically much like the persona of the man whom it had encased. Until there was nothing. No wind. No movement. Only silence. And an awkward stillness. Until… a rumble….
Like a thumping war drum it came, violent and disturbing, vicious and bubbling, at its vibrant core the tomb shook and splintered, then ridiculously hindered the ground erupted and from the ashes and of the tomb laid a body but through the awe-inspiring aura of the power that was being drawn into him this luxurious evanescent green light that beamed from the heavens like a beacon of his rebirth, it signaled in laughable irony a new beginning and a his new life on this earth. There was a silence but a menacing streaming consciousness that vibrated through them all, like a shadowy temperament that could not be faltered. Its loose and creeping nature stirred in the Fallen’s sleep. The torpor as a dismal and utterly pointless creation. As it fell from him in a milky nature his fossilized remains became livelier. A misty black smoke filled the air forming the particles that was of his clothing and his body. It twisted about his muscular frame and what had been just a white eyeball formed through ignorant yet cold blue eyes that became loved and feared. Before the presence of these lesser men he stood with his hands searching over his now bald head and his eyes finding its usage to be worth a damn again. His luscious fangs redrew from his gums and he stood tall, firm and daunting. Cocking his head to look upon all those who witnessed his rebirth. Not six meters away had been his son, the betrayer, and Amram, the redeemer. Before long his materialization had finished, and his long black hair had finally reached its appropriate length at his back.
did i mention this application template was created by JESSICA. She was bored, and felt inspired. So yeah, credit is due where it is due. She goes by GAGA @ CAUTION. Not that it matters since she rarely posts anything there.
