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[fury]

Name: Alucard
Player: currymaniac
Chron.: A Taste Of Innocence
Nature: Artisan
Demeanor: Controlled
Clan: Toreador
Generation: 13
Haven: Roams
Concept: Poet

ATTRIBUTES:

Mental:
Perception: 2
Intelligence: 5
Wits: 4

Social:
Charisma: 2
Manipulation: 4
Appearance: 3

Physical:
Strength: 2
Dexterity: 2
Stamina: 2

ABILITIES:

Knowledges:
Computers : 1
Investigation : 2
Linguistics : 5
Occult : 5
Politics : 3
Science : 3

Talents:
Acting : 3
Alertness : 3
Empathy : 3
Subterfuge : 2

Skills:
Animal Ken : 2
Drive : 2
Music : 1

ADVANTAGES:

Disciplines:
Celerity : 2
Presence : 1

Backgrounds:
Poet : 3
Upper Class : 2

Virtues:
Conscience : 3
Self-Control : 5
Courage : 3

Merits & Flaws:
Hypersensitive

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Humanity : 8
Willpower : 2
Blood Pool : 10
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Alucard started his life as a poet. He was born to a well to do family in Victorian times, and always thought of himself – and his poetry – as above that of the common ‘muck’. The fact was though, that whilst his poetry was good, it was never good enough to be able to earn him recognition. He ignored this however, and kept on writing. He saw beauty in everything, in flowers, animals, love and even in death. When he poems about what he would think of as the usual ‘mumbo-jumbo’ weren’t the success he wanted, he started to delve deeper into other forms of beauty. He started out small, as most sado-masochists tend to.
At first it was just birds, rabbits, small creatures like that. He then started to move onto humans, cutting himself from time to time in order to get his inspiration, but never enough to actually endanger him, oh no, he knew better than that. Perhaps it was the thought of being able to hurt himself without danger that drew him in. Perhaps it was the thought of what he could do to others, even he wasn’t sure, but he soon fell in with darker and darker crowds.
It was supposed to be a death pact, that this gracious vampire who come in and grant them all eternal life. Of course, it didn’t happen like that, it was more of a bloodbath for own starved and scrawny vampire, too useless to be able to catch prey on his own. It was lucky that Alucard – or Victor Stanton as he had then been known – even managed to survive, and he himself believed that it was due to luck alone that he did, luck that the vampire had pretty much had his fill when he got to him and so had turned him instead – not seeming to want to renage on his deal, and at least turn a couple of the guests. He was one of three that drank that vampires blood, one of three who actually walked out of there.
This was roughly halfway through the Victorian Era, and now that he had eternal life he was free to work for his dark beauty of poetry. A strange occupation for a vampire perhaps, but his transformation – or as he liked to think of it, his ascension – did not change his demeanour much, he still had that cold intellect and love of beauty wherever he could find it. It was of course hard for him to write poetry about the usual happy birds and flowers and that due to his inability to go out into the sunlight, yet he was not a bit perplexed by this. As well as this, any poetry he did write could not be published either, not with its subject matter, but nor did that bother him, it was art for art’s sake now, not anything else.
He drifted, all the time writing his art, sometimes dropping it with unfortunate victims, other times at random publishing houses and of course, his most popular course of action was to take it with him. However, he soon found that he was starting to care less for his art and more for his bloodlust, which became harder and harder to control. He also noticed that his murders were drawing a lot of attention, not all of them mind, the police of the time were only human – unlike himself – and did not manage to find all of his victims, the main ones they focused in on were the prostitutes, which he left out in quite easily seen areas. The newspapers ran wild with it, even giving him a name – Jack the Ripper they called him. It gave him such a thrill, but he knew he must be careful, must be more withheld. They never caught him, never came close. However, it was not just humans he was gaining attention from. It turned out that there were quite a few more vampires in London that he could ever have possibly known about, and why didn’t he know about them? Because them kept themselves secret of course! The problem was, he was not keeping himself secret.
As a vampire, he was still quite young, and, due to this his bloodlust was understandable. It was probably due to this fact that he was not murdered by his own kind. It was whilst he was on one of his ‘hunts’ that he felt there was another presence around. It turned out he was right, another vampire had tracked him down – not exactly a hard job. He was a kindish person, well, as kind as a bloodthirsty killer could be. It turned out that he himself had once been in a similar situation, and this was why he was helping him now, and that if he didn’t soon then Alucard would soon have turned up dead(again). He taught him that in order to feed you didn’t have to kill the victims, the bite marks would heal and they wouldn’t know what had happened. It took him some getting used to, his would be mentor going on the ‘hunts’ with him until he had finally learned when to stop drinking.
It was after that time that he decided that London was just getting a little too stale for him, and so instead he decided to travel. He still had money from his upper class background as well as anything that he took from his ‘muses’. At this time he was still known as Victor, and it was not until the very end of the nineteenth century that he changed his name. A book was published by an Irish author known as Bram Stoker, a book called Dracula. He found it fascinating, a little fantastical perhaps, but fascinating none the less. It was from this book that he took the name Alucard – or Dracula spelt backwards.
He continued wandering for the rest of his life, or unlife as it was in truth, moving from place to place, taking only the odd life so as not to be noticed, mainly ensnaring his victims and letting them go after he had taken his fill. He of course, had to change with the times, get used to electricity and eventually the dawning of the computer age. It was different, but he was adaptable as he soon learned.