Deckland was born in the year 1826 in a small town off the coast of North Carolina, USA. His family consisted of a Fisherman/Sailor father, a mother who was often sick and two siblings who were just a little older than himself, was more poor than rich which often led to the family starving during the cold, frigid winters, even if there wasn't a whole lot of snow to go along with their misadventures.

When he was 13 years of age, the island he grew up on was raided by a group of pirates who were searching for a treasure that had supposedly been placed there by an unknown party centuries before. Unfortunately, The Sharp family knew nothing about it. His father, who was out at sea during this raid, missed what happened to his family.

Deckland's two siblings were killed outright, tortured by the pirates who Deckland later learned were a part of a British Trade Company. His mother got the worst end of the deal. While hiding Deckland, who was still barely old enough to fight against intruders, she broke her ankle by tripping over the rocky slope that led to a cave that Deckland and his siblings had frequented in their younger years. Captured, in pain and broken, she was tortured herself, forced upon by several men.

Deckland, who had not witnessed this but later learned of it when he approached the captain of the crew, managed to escape to the deepest parts of the cave where he came across the treasure the pirates were searching for, The Fountain of Youth, said to give immortality to all those who drank from its waters at a terrible price.

The price for Deckland turned out to be a terrible hunger. Famished from trying to run away, also scratched, scraped and bruised from the chase, he drank from its waters and used some of it to clean his wounds.

Before his eyes, his wounds healed almost instantaneously and he felt himself growing stronger. He aged before he had a chance to really consider what was happening before him. Where once he'd been just a boy, he was now a man. He was taller, stronger.

He wasted no time in filling a canister with what water he could grab before quietly retreating from the cave and escaping the island using an old boat that his father had helped him and his siblings restore only a few weeks before. When he reached the mainland, he was starved for he'd not been able to pack food and the trip there was long and arduous, especially without food. The only water he'd had was what he'd gotten from the spring.

He didn't have much coin on him so he had to resort to thievery to get what he could from the locals which wasn't much considering he was still learning how to use this new body of his that looked more like his father than what he was used to. The first change only took place shortly after he'd managed to buy food from an ale house a short distance into the territory. The barkeep, a redhead Irish woman by the name of Tulip, took an interest in him based on his rugged appearance.

She offered a meal, a warm bed, a roof over his head since winter was still upon them. And in the end, he'd let the hunger take over him. The hunger ended only when he woke from a slumber like black out. He found Tulip the next day in one of the chicken coops, her throat torn. For years, the memory haunted him until he saw the captain of the crew that had raided his home.

With the support of a few Frontier men he came upon quite by accident, he got his revenge but it was a drawn out venture that almost ended with his life. Immortality could be ended, even if it initially drew from it a cost. He'd been tortured, abused, beaten to the point of death several times. It only took a few barrels of gunpowder, however, and a charge to really set things into motion.


Deckland appears to be in his early 20's if not a little bit older than he actually appears. With long, brown hair that has a habit of growing too fast and a little too long, he manages to keep it cut relatively short so that he doesn't have to worry about it getting too long. Even so, it's kept unruly and he often either chooses to tie it up into a pony tail or just lets it hang loose since it's cut low enough that it just comes beneath his jaw line.

He has dark, brooding eyes that often betray his age in the way they observe others. He is not incredibly tall but when one thinks to the time period he was born in, it isn't too far off the mark. His physique can be described as relatively thin if not a little malnourished. He doesn't need to eat and even if he did, it'd only be for the taste of food since his metabolism curbs any weight he gains right off the bat.

He generally wears loose fitting clothing, not hard with his body's weight, and tends to have a rugged bad boy sense to him. He likes wearing leather and suits, since they remind him of the uniforms worn during his time period. He's never seen without a pack of cigarettes and a metallic zippo lighter. 

Basic Information

Age - Appearance: 24-26

Chronologically: 196 years of age

Birthday: January 18th, 1826

Species: Immortal Human

Sex: Male

Deckland is not like most human beings. Born in a time period when things were far different than they are now, his views on culture and on society are old and it gives him a flare of honesty when it comes to meeting new people. He suffers from a hunger that most people cannot imagine.

Most of the time, that hunger is controlled with a rigorous diet, exercise and with medication that he helped develop with the help of a scientist toward the later part of his life. He has trust issues and telling others about his misfortunes isn't something he can do so easily.

Forget meaningful relationships. Unless the woman is an immortal like him or she doesn't mind that he doesn't age, relationships end in the bedroom shortly after they're created. Friendships last longer for him and he makes a habit of just placing people there.


Until recently, the only meaningful relationship he had was with his dog, Rosco, a standard German Shepherd he rescued from a pound a moment before he was transported from Earth to the wretched planet he now resides on.

Rosco is an immortal, genetically engineered dog who survived through a German Nazi encampment where he was experimented on and abused. Unlike most animals who would have grown up to be monsters, he retained most of his pup like energy and robust. A little training and he became the perfect companion to an ageless counterpart. It is rare to see Rosco outside of Deckland's home, a simple shack a reasonable distance from any city on the map.

Some general rules I follow are:

  • I generally prefer my writing partners to be 18 or older. I am okay if you're 17 but mature subjects will come up in play.
  • I do not godmod. Small power plays are generally preferred if they move the story along but anything more than that is a no-go.
  • I will not RP forced mature scenes unless both of us have spoken them over and find it to be required for the plot we're undergoing.
  • OOC does not seep into my plays and I would prefer my writing to be drama free. That goes for the writing partners as well.
  • If your character has an accent, I do not mind that they are written out so long as I can understand them. However, it's even better if you reference your character having that accent so neither of us are confused later on.
  • If Deckland has a personality trait or something in his history needs to be changed in order for someone to write with me, I'm alright with that but it should be discussed beforehand.
  • My writing style is fluid time, meaning I can have several plays at the same time with the same character and unless it's referenced that its within a specific time period or setting, the dates and times will be vague.
  • All of my characters have several different stories. What this means is that their backgrounds are the only thing that remains constant in each world/realm/thread. Every world, realm, thread or play I involve them in has a different plot line. (i.e. I join Equinox Arms and Deckland moves into the building. Meanwhile, I join Nahar'u Kishori and Deckland lives elsewhere. The Equinox Arms is not in Deckland's history in Nahar'u Kishori and Nahar'u Kishori isn't in Deckland's history in the Equinox Arms story line.) This also means that relationships formed, unless I explicitly state that they are to be added to his profile's background, are unique to their own story lines.
  • Lastly, anonymity is important to me as a player. If I decide to play another character and you recognize my writing style or who I am, please do not confront me about it publicly. If there is concern regarding me playing another character, bring it to me via private message or through social media if you have that information.

Character Species


Character Gender


Character Abilites

Most of Deckland's abilities are not supernatural in strength or make up. While he is labeled as a demon, he is not truly an authentic beast and more a creation of the Fountain's unorthodox changes. He has immortality but the cost of that is the need to consume or imbibe of human flesh and blood. His body's metabolism, since his change is so taxing, is so quick that both his body's hair, nails and even his teeth grow too fast and need to constantly be repaired/fixed. The only time they aren't growing is when he is hungry. Another weakness is that when he undergoes the change or is hungry, his eyes turn red (as if he's popped a blood vessel) and black veins become visible near his eyes. He can also not eat, drink or otherwise imbibe anything that doesn't have at least a drop of the fountain's water added to it or it tastes like ash to him. The only thing excluded from this is flesh. In turn for these weaknesses, he has enhanced senses like sight and hearing. He is incredibly strong, agile and fast. Being that he's had to consume flesh, he has an intimate knowledge of the body and with that knowledge, how to heal it for others if the need arises.

Writer's Writing Style (OOC)

Paragraph, Multi-Para, Novella

Writer's Favored Genres (OOC)

Fantasy, Romance, Violence, Realistic, Rated R, 18+, Gore, Action, Adult

About the Writer (OOC)

I am an avid writer and role-player who has been at it for almost 6 years. Originally came from Rolepages at the suggestion of one of my friends there. I live in the USA. I'm a guy. What else is there?

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  • (Hi! This is a generic message I'm sending to everyone I found on my friends list I'm not actively talking with and can't remember plotting with, or if it's just been ages since I've heard from you. Before I clean the list out, I figured I'd send out a signal and ask if you'd like to plot, write, or just hang around to do so in the future. If you get this message late and I've removed you, you are more than welcome to add me again. I'm just cleaning house since I'm not in the habit of padding my contact list. Cheers!)

  • "Blood will have Blood

    And Even the best of us will succumb to It's Power."


    Strangers whisper of a place haunted by magic and all things that go bump in the night. A place where monsters are good and the good guys are evil. They tell stories of wars behing fought between Angels & Demons, Vampires & Werewolves, aon lands stained by bloodshed where no grass can ever grow there again because of it's scars. With every passing whisper they grow quieter and quieter for fear that the owners might overhear them. But let rumors be rumors. 

    What's true is that when Deckland finds his way to the mansion it's a grassy landscape with rolling hills as the base of the mountains. It isn't far from the city. In fact, it feels almost like it was a skip away. One moment he's just outside the bustling sounds of the workplace and irritated drivers and the next in a peaceful landscape. The thing is, when you want to find the Kishori you can't. But when it wants to find you, it does. It just so happened Deckland's desire to "fit in" coincidended with a much bigger plan. 

    A grand staircase descended from the upper floor of the mansion. The marketplace is held in the long and narrow room just off to the right of the foyer. Chandliers are lit with candles that never dare to go out despite the soft breeze coming in through the windows. A scent of fresh air mingled with that of the heated skin and sweet nectar coursing through the veins of each slave. Other guests weaved their way in between the slaves. Each slave set about five feet apart. Enough room for there to be cushions for them to sit on when they weren't being looked over by a customer and with water. These slaves weren't malnourished or mistreated. Skin had an seemingly purposful glow.  They were the finest crop there was to offer. How else would the Kishori be known for their fabulous taste? 

    Deckland's friend advised him well in dressing up. It set him apart and made him look like a customer amide the other buyers. Most were vampires or their servants here to buy fresh stock for them. But Deckland's appearance was enough to catch her eye. Ska had passed by a window when he first entered. The young woman's attention peeked from the newcomer. Fresh blood in her territory. She watched him from the door. One bare shoulder pressed into the large maghongy door's frame. One arm was cropped under her bust while the other elbow was propped on the hand left to leave her fingers twirling a few strands of short hair in between her fingers. 

    When Deckland found his own spot to perch up in, she watched him while he watched the slave. "Are you looking to buy?" Her voices carries through the corridor with a velvet clarity, but the kind that's still evolving in the way any adolscent does. Wide base silver eyes meet his gaze as a her rose lips curl into a smile. She doesn't appear any older than 18. Maybe. Just maybe 19 but even then that was really pushing it. There was a youthfulness in her fair skin. But the sharp jawline and and wise eyes said others. "Or only looking to taste?" She pushed herself away from the door. Head tilted to the side. "Sometimes....we offer a taste for free...depends on how serious you are about buying though." 

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