[Age:] over 18 [Email:] Lorelei633 at aol.com [AIM, YIM, MSN, etc.:] Lorelei633
IC: [Name:] Jean-Julian Alexandre Marais (goes by Julian) [Age:] 177 [Birthday:] December 12, 1831 [Race:] vampire
[Physical Description:]
Julian appears to be approximately nineteen years old. He is small, about 5'7, and quite thin. His skin is very pale and he has no scars. His hair is black, not quite shoulder length. He does not like to tie it back, preferring to wear it loose. His eyes are blue/green. He cannot be described as beautiful, but he's pretty enough with his flawless complexion and the baby face that makes him look younger - and a great deal more innocent - than he is. Others are likely to see him as a shy and somewhat awkward boy, perhaps even a bit odd. Julian is aware of this and apt to use it when it is to his advantage not to be noticed.
Julian is not into fashion, and so scarcely bothers about what he wears. His love of pretty things and his rather stylish sire's influence have improved his taste somewhat, but he doesn't like clothes and would much prefer to go naked if he could possibly get away with it. Obviously, this would attract attention, even in these modern times, as would wearing the nineteenth century clothes in which he feels most comfortable. He tends to dress simply, in a manner not altogether modern but not quite anachronistic enough to arouse suspicion. At worst, he might be mistaken for a makeup-shy goth. He prefers shirts of a simple design and dark trousers (he owns several pair in leather), boots and long, close-fitting coats.
[Personality:]
Julian's basic innocence has endured, though it has been sorely tested since he was embraced some one hundred fifty years ago. A product of a rather sheltered upbringing, he knew very little about the world when he suddenly found himself alone, transformed into something he didn't understand. He carries deep emotional scars from the loss of his family and his relationship with God. He does not trust strangers easily, but does not to go great lengths to disguise what he is. He is very quick to bare his fangs and hiss when threatened or afraid. Though he does feel guilty about the lives he takes, he is very aware of his abilities and will not hesitate to use them to survive.
Though Julian is standoffish and shy, if not downright wary, once someone has his trust he is extremely loyal. He is drawn to older and wiser males who can serve as father figures and mentors, but also has a soft spot for those younger than he. He has a great thirst for knowledge, thinking himself to be quite ignorant, and is eager and glad for someone to teach him just about anything.
Julian is an odd mix of innocence and darkness. He can be quite naïve at times, even sweet, but he has a quick temper and is apt to lash out, reacting first and thinking later, if at all. He relies heavily on the courtly manners taught to him by his adopted sire, Leo, but it's mostly artifice, a thin veneer of civilization over a well-meaning but feral boy. He still has vivid memories of living as a wild boy in the French forest. He spent months alone, hiding in the daytime and hunting at night. During that time, the life he remembered - his village, his family, his church - all fell away and he became an animal on two legs, a predator driven by insatiable hunger. He slew many from the surrounding farms and villages before he was driven out by angry mobs.
Julian likes to drink, favoring sweet wine, and smokes on occasion. He likes music and dancing, though he does not know the modern ones. He likes to read despite not being entirely proficient, though he is better at French than English. He craves companionship, but can also be quite solitary. He can spend hours curled up on his bed, reading books or practicing his writing, or working on lessons set to him by his sire.
He does not like loud voices. He does not like being touched unless it is by someone he trusts. He tends to fear and/or dislike things he doesn't understand. He is fiercely devoted to his sire and to those who have earned his trust and he will not hesitate to challenge anyone who threatens them.
[History:]
Julian was born December 12, 1831 in the village of Saint-Rémy. The eldest son of devoutly religious parents, he spent a happy, uneventful childhood in the French countryside. Home, school and church were the compass points in Julian's life. He helped his father on the family's small farm, doted on his little brother and was an altar boy in his church. At one point, he considered entering the priesthood, but decided to wait until he had seen something of the world. By the time he was nineteen and finished with school, he was restless and eager to do just that. His parents tried to dissuade him, but young Julian had a head full of dreams, and top among them was to see Paris. He'd dreamed of it since he was a little boy, had pored over images of it, read everything he could about it. He'd never seen a city before, and Paris was the city. The City of Light. He'd whispered the words to himself a million times, had pictured himself walking her streets, lingering in her museums, gazing up in awe at her cathedrals. He was determined to go there and see it for himself. Once he was there, perhaps he could find work, perhaps even learn a trade. And if things didn't work out, there was always home. Mama and Papa and the church would be waiting for him.
His parents relented at last and bid him a tearful farewell as he set off on what he was sure would be a grand adventure. And at first, it was. The world outside Saint-Rémy was vast and limitless, and he strolled along, marveling at each new thing, each new sight or sound. It didn't take long, though, for misfortune to befall him. As he passed through a village on the road to Paris, he was set upon by robbers. They took the little money he had, the knife he'd brought for hunting, even the last of the food his mother had packed. Now penniless and hungry, Julian was stubbornly optimistic, sure he'd find a day's work, replenish his supplies, and continue on his adventure.
Continue he did, or at least he tried. Hungry enough to chase after a hare though he had no way to skin or gut it, he got hopelessly lost in the forest. He wandered, searching desperately for the way back to the road, but only succeeded in getting himself even more lost. At last, hungry and exhausted, he curled up at the base of a tree and fell into an uneasy sleep. That night, he was startled awake by the sound of a horse, and opened his eyes to see a tall, imposing figure dressed all in black, staring down at him from atop a massive black stallion. Terrified, Julian fled, but was chased down and captured by the highwayman. The man gave his name as Lucien, though he offered no further information. His manner was courteous, even concerned, and he soothed the boy, whispering reassurances into his ear as they galloped deeper into the forest. Though frightened, Julian couldn't help responding eagerly to the man's offer of food and a night's lodging. Though his instincts told him to be wary, he was too cold and hungry to put up a fight, and so let himself be taken to the inn in the woods.
His mysterious host took him inside and immediately ordered a staggering variety of food and drink, the finest the proprietor could offer. Julian eyed Lucien's heavy purse with astonishment, watching as the shiny gold coins were counted out into the innkeeper's eager hand. He wondered where the money came from and what Lucien had done to get it, but then the food was in front of him, steaming and maddeningly delicious, and he had no thought beyond cramming as much of it into his mouth as he could, as quickly as possible. Lucien ate nothing, merely sipped from a glass of brandy and watched, his piercing blue eyes never wavering from Julian.
After the enormous meal, the boy felt as if he'd been drugged. Looking around and blinking sleepily, he wondered why the colors in the room seemed so much brighter, the sounds so much louder. A moment later he was pulled to his feet and led up the stairs, offering no resistance though his sense of foreboding was growing. Once in the small attic room, Lucien stripped Julian's clothes off and took him to bed. Julian tried to resist. He had never been with a man, knew it wasn't what good boys did, even if they were troubled by 'unnatural' urges. But Lucien would not be refused. Hadn't he rescued Julian from certain death in the dark woods? Had he not brought him to this nice warm place and fed him the finest food, bought him the best drink? Surely some gratitude was in order. Guilty and afraid, Julian submitted. When Lucien's weight shifted and the sharp pain lanced through Julian's neck, he stiffened and cried out. Perhaps he thought that this was part of it, perhaps even some punishment for defying Lucien. He did not have time to wonder further, however, as blackness quickly overtook him. Later he would have vague memories of being turned over, of something being pressed against his mouth. And then he was choking on something, something coppery and thick. He struggled briefly, then fell unconscious. He did not awaken until the following evening.
He woke up alone. Lucien was gone, no trace of him left behind. Julian sat up in bed, dazed, one hand pressed against the side of his neck. He felt strange, oddly cold. Was he ill? Dressing quickly, he stumbled downstairs. The innkeeper and the other lodgers reacted strangely to him. Whereas the night before they had been welcoming, even gregarious, now they shrank from him. Nervously, one of the innkeepers sons indicated that he'd been instructed by 'the young gentleman's' host to take him back to the main road. Still frightened and unsure what was wrong, Julian hastened toward the one place he felt safe. He was going home. If he was ill, Mama would nurse him and make him strong again.
His father came outside, hastily tucking his nightshirt into his trousers. He tugged a suspender up over his shoulder and blinked at Julian. At Julian's cry of "Papa!", his father's eyes opened wide. The boy's eyes glowed in the firelight, eerie and unnatural, and at that moment, Jean Marais knew that this was no longer his son. Screaming, he grabbed a torch and chased after him, trying to drive him away from the rest of his family. Julian's Mama came to the door, pale and frightened, her younger son clutching at her nightdress. Despite his pleas and entreaties, Julian was forced away, his last vision of his family their terrified, contorted faces, their mouths open in screams of horror. Turning then to the last place of comfort, Julian went to the church. Banging on the door, he pleaded with the priest to help him, to heal him so that they would love him again, but the priest cowered inside. When he finally did emerge, it was with the big silver crucifix from the altar. Screaming and waving it at Julian, he forced the boy back, driving him out of the village. The priest condemned Julian as a vile creature, a damned soul, a minion of Satan. There was nothing left of the kindly priest who had known Julian since he was a little boy. Turning and fleeing at last, Julian ran, sobbing, into the deep woods.
He knew now, what he was. Instinct became his teacher, and he learned to hunt as best he could. He hid in the daytime and fed at night until the numbers of the missing from the surrounding villages grew so large that a mob of angry men set out after him, determined to stake him and see the killings end. Julian fled again, but never had more than a few nights' rest until the hunters found him, and he was forced to move on. At last, he found himself near Calais, and thought to make passage to America. There was nothing left for him now, save a painful death. He stowed away on a ship bound for Boston, tucking himself away deep in the hold. He might have remained undiscovered had his hunger not gotten the best of him. Too many crewmen disappeared and it wasn't long before Julian awoke in his hiding place to find a sword held at his throat and a circle of angry faces staring down at him.
The next few weeks were an agony of misery and fear. The iron cage he was imprisoned in was directly below the hatch, a fact of which the first mate, an exceedingly fat and ugly man, never failed to remind him. He needed only reach up with his walking stick and push the hatch open, sending Julian scurrying to the other end of the cage. He would cower there in the diminishing shadows, whimpering in terror as the wedge of sunlight grew wider. He was kept alive, barely, on a diet of rats' blood, and beaten savagely for any acts of aggression against the crew. More than once he heard the first mate grumble that the boy would've been fed to the sharks already, had the man not hoped to make a fortune selling him once they reached Boston. However, a new passenger had boarded at Liverpool, though Julian did not yet know it. They were midway across the Atlantic before the tidy, well-dressed man entered the hold, observing Julian closely. The boy was afraid, but the professor assured him he would not be harmed. He was an expert in vampirology, he informed Julian, and he wished to make a study of the boy. Though still mistrustful of the man, Julian told his story haltingly, somewhat befuddled by the way the man's zeal seemed to grow with every word. He watched in amazement as a great deal of money changed hands, and he was told that he would spend the rest of the voyage in the professor's cabin.
The professor was a rather austere host, though not unkind, apologizing for the continued necessity of the rats' blood, and the precautions that must be taken to keep Julian's hunger from overtaking him. When they arrived in Boston, Julian found himself being taken to a fine old stone house. Sent to the cellar to wait while the professor oversaw the unloading of his equipment, Julian was startled to discover that he was not alone. There was another there, one of his own kind, who was every bit as startled to see him. This, as it turns out, was Doctor Leofwine White, Leo for short. Much older and vastly more learned than Julian, Leo had been with the professor for many years, and had pestered him for many of those years to bring him a companion. This Julian was to be, and the two quickly forged a bond. So close did they become that, abandoned by the one who made him, Julian began to think of Leo as his own sire. Leo returned the same affection to Julian, and took it upon himself to care for and instruct his adopted childe.
After an unfortunate indiscretion on Julian's part, resulting in the disappearance of a neighbor's daughter, the professor, Leo and Julian were forced to flee Boston. Arriving in New York, they purchased a handsome brownstone and made it their home. Relations between Leo and the professor, contentious at the best of times, deteriorated to the point that Leo left, needing some time away. Though lonely and missing Leo, Julian tried to please the professor, submitting to the sometimes painful examinations, but the man's behavior grew more and more erratic. He began drinking heavily and railing at Julian, demanding that Julian turn him. Julian refused, but the professor was determined to wear him down. Once again accused of being ungrateful, Julian was forced into a corner. The professor insisted that the only way he could truly understand the vampire was to become one, and at last, worn down by the man's constant haranguing, Julian obeyed. Sadly, he took the professor out to hunt, witnessing his first kill. The professor seemed fascinated by the experience, even thrilled. The next morning, however, he rose and dressed and, without a word, simply walked out into the sun.
Leo returned and the two continue to live together in the professor's house. Leo still needs time alone every now and then, and is apt to be gone for weeks or months, but he always returns, and Julian is always there waiting for him.
[Weakness:] Julian has poor impulse control and a rather unreliable working knowledge of the world. Despite his mistrust of strangers, he can be swayed with frightening ease by a forceful personality, particularly when coupled with a show of superior strength or knowledge. Having been abandoned by his sire at the moment he was embraced, he never had the opportunity to learn many things a young vampire needs to know. Leo has made great strides in filling in the gaps, but there are still some things Julian hasn't learned. One of those things is controlling his hunger. Though he has been admonished time and again by Leo about being discreet and choosing his victims carefully, when the hunger comes over him, Julian is apt to go after the nearest meal and consider the consequences later. He is not particularly strong physically, and is not a very skilled fighter, though like many of smaller stature, his temper can be fearsome. He can be stubborn and petulant, and his moods are very changeable. He has a deep mistrust of the clergy and a terror of being abandoned.
[Strengths:] Julian really is good at heart. He does bad things at times, and is capable of violence, but he's not inherently bad. He's very loyal and will defend those he loves fiercely. He has a hunger for learning and is a very hard worker, grateful for any chance to improve himself. He can be very sweet, and is generous and loving to his friends.
[Family:] Father: Jean-Jacques. Mother: Mathilde. Brother: Thierry (born 1842) All deceased.
[PB:] The lovely Mr. Patrick Wolf.
[Anything else you would like to mention:]
Leo is not an NPC, but his player is not in the game at this time. I will play Julian as though Leo is simply away on one of his retreats, leaving it open for Leo to come in at some point, or not.
RP Samples* (on the second or more apps, these samples are not needed) [RP Sample:] (Should be 3rd person and at least two, detailed paragraphs. The stronger, the better.)
(1)
Slowly, Julian raises his head. God lays a hand on his shoulder, says his name with so much love...
Julian's face crumples and he begins to sob. Tears pour down his cheeks and he cries it out, all of it, all the years of misery and loneliness and hurt. It had been the church he ran to, that night so long ago. When he'd staggered home, not understanding what had been done to him, not knowing he was changed. But they could see it, the moment they saw his eyes in the firelight, they knew. They'd chased him away, Mama and Papa, screaming at him, calling him a monster. Papa had a torch and he'd swung at him with it, his eyes wild, his hair standing on end. Even Thierry, the little brother he'd adored, had bounced on his knee, had cowered from him, clinging to Mama's skirts, his mouth open in a terrified scream.
Dazed, Julian had gone to his second home, the place he could always be found if he wasn't at home or in school. The church. The priest would help him. The priest would know what to do. He could heal Julian, make him good so they would let him come home again. But the priest barred the door, ignored Julian's pounding and pitiful cries. Then, finally, he did come out, brandishing the big silver crucifix from the altar. Julian gazed upon it, as he had so many times, only this time he found himself flinching away from it, covering his eyes. The priest roared, fetching a torch of his own and forcing Julian back, away from the church, away from the village that had been his home.
"Out! Away, vile beast! Foul demon! Your soul is lost! God reviles you! God reviles you!"
He'd run then, stumbling, into the forest. He ran until he was exhausted, finally finding a cave and crawling into it. He curled up there and cried, alone and afraid. He'd been an altar boy in that church, grown up at the priest's side. He'd sung in the choir, lifting his voice to God, praising Him, God who was his saviour, God who was everything good and merciful. Why? he cried out into the silence. Why have you forsaken me? I love you. I love you. Please hear me. Please...
But there was no answer. And now, as he kneels before Him, there is bitterness in Julian's tears. There is anger, the hurt of a child turned away into the darkness, shunned by the Church, shunned by one he believed in with his whole heart.
I loved you. I cried out for you. Why did you not hear me?
He does not even realize he is sobbing the words out loud.
(2)
Julian trots after Leo, barely able to keep from rushing ahead of him. Even in the moment or two it takes for Leo to open the great front door, Julian is dancing from foot to foot, counting the seconds until they are free to hunt.
The hunger is a part of him, etched indelibly into his soul. He thinks of feeding all his waking hours, dreams of it at night. The scant blood of the rats on board the ship kept him alive, but it never slaked his thirst, never gave him the peace that only a good night's feeding can bring.
At last the door is open. Leo steps aside, one arm flung out, grinning as though he personally built the city. Julian grins back, nearly falling over his own feet in his haste to get out. Once outside, he stands in the flickering light of the gaslamps, staring around him. So many people...
The ship was a large one, but there were a hundred souls on board at the most. Julian could count their heartbeats, could tell which one was watching him from the shadows by the smell of their blood. But this...Boston, all around him, houses upon houses, crammed with the living, the very air heavy with the scent of them. He cranes forward, nose in the air like a bloodhound's. He's trembling, his mouth watering, eyes scanning the semi-darkened street for...
There.
A lady walking alone, approaching the house across the way. She's well-fed, plump even, dressed in the latest fashion, a little hat with fresh flowers set jauntily atop her head. But Julian doesn't care for fashion, for the richness of her clothes or the weighty purse over her arm. His eyes are fixed on her neck, riveted on the spot where the blue vein lies nestled under its layer of soft skin.
And he's off, heading across the road, cutting toward her, everything else forgotten.
Everything but the hunger.
Etc [How Did you find us?] The one and only EJ. :)