Virgiliu Dragomir Mihai Bathory-Draculea
Mostenitor al Tronului Intunericului
When you've lived in the darkness for so long
Your craving to feel the touch of light only grows
But once you do...
You will wish you had stayed in the dark
✞ BIO ✞
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Name: Virgiliu Dragomir Mihai Báthory-Drăculea
Alias: Virgil Dracul, Virgil Tepes, Virgil Dracula, Drac Junior, Tepes Junior
Born: 1678, October, 31
Age: 344
Height: 185 cm
Weight: 70 kg
Hair colour: Dark brown
Eye colour: Brown but with a yellowish-white glow in the dark and dark red scleras.
Gender: Male
Birth Place: Transylvania
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"A night with roaring thunder, furious lightning, and downpour so vicious it would drown your thoughts.
A night like this, it was, when the creature spawned into the world through screams of pain and dying breath.
A creature beyond our realm and ken. Born from darkness itself to snuff the light.
A child of Undead Father and Undead Mother. A cancer to our world made to feed on life.
A monster, beyond even Vampyre ken. A ravenous beast crawling within human skin and bone."
- extract from a handbook signed; DR. H. JEKYLL
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✞The Heir to the Throne of Darknessv✞
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Virgiliu Dragomir Mihai Báthory-Drăculea was born during a raging tempest on the night of October 31st, 1678.
His mother, the dreaded murderess; Erzsébet Báthory, died in childbirth - chained to the bed.
Allegedly murdered by Virgiliu's half brother; Mircea "Thanatos" Dracula, out of jealousy and madness.
His father Vlad the Third "Tepes" Drăculea, nicknamed Count Dracula, was the self-proclaimed
King of Vampires. Ruling from his decrepit castle hidden in the Carpathian Mountains.
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The child was raised as most Nobles at the time were; he learned several foreign languages,
including Greek, Latin, Turkish, Tatar, Hungarian, Bulgarian, and German.
As well as proper etiquette and how to greet guests and dignitaries -
- though there were not a lot of them during his childhood nor when he grew older.
He learned how to carry himself with power and poise and dress according to status.
He spent most of his days in the castle reading the endless number of books in the Library,
studying intensely in hopes of living up to his father's reputation -
- and earn his place as the Heir to Dracula's domain.
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Virgil’s room is situated in a mostly neglected part of the castle,
Along a corridor adorned in dust and webs.
The door is dark and heavy, laid with iron.
And behind it is a single room with a small door to the left as dark as the other one.
The room, like an Antechamber with a decorated window at the far side
- dusty in all places but one spot, kept clean,
So that one could sit by it and look outside,
Is furnished with only a fireplace-
A desaturated, carved, wooden bookshelf,
A chair by the window,
And cabinets along the left wall on each side of the small door.
An iron chandelier also hangs from the roof,
far above the reach of human arms.
Behind the small door is another room,
Smaller than the first and with no windows whatsoever.
At the centre of the opposing wall stands a wooden-framed bed fit for nobility,
only accompanied by chandeliers and a carved wardrobe within the wall to the right.
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- One
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“To live eternal in the shadow of others, that is the fate from which I strive to escape.
Death and decay will follow wherever I travel, and all for a crown that means nothing - and yet, to me it is everything.”
- Virgiliu Dragomir Mihai Báthory-Drăculea, 1885 - Signed; DR. H. JEKYLL
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✞The Manticore✞
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"Having been born from an unholy unity of two beings with no life,
Virgil is not quite a conventional vampyre.
A being of pure darkness, brought about by dark magics,
I can only deduce that Virgil is what is of an ancient race,
Known as a Martya-χvāra in the Old Persian tongue.
"Man-eater"
Better known by its Greek name; Mantikhṓras - the Manticore.
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According to Legend, the Manticore was part human and part lion,
With the tail of a scorpion able to fire venomous darts,
And a pair of bat-like wings.
They had three rows of sharp teeth,
And their face resembled that of an old man.
But most importantly;
They were known for their insatiable hunger for human flesh.
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The nature of Virgil's metamorphosis seems to originate in negative emotions.
Wrath, jealousy, greed, grief, irritation, and so on.
The transformation itself is painful, beyond what humans could possibly imagine.
The bones split apart, expand, and heal - all in a matter of seconds, minutes at most.
How one can amass such musculature from seemingly no-where
Is beyond even my own comprehension.
And it is musculature too.
Strength greatly enhances, as if his strength was not already great.
Though it seems he loses part of his humanity - as ironic as that may sound.
Basal instincts take over and- no, not even instincts.
He's overcome by an irresistible hunger, and will kill anything that moves.
Controlling his urges become increasingly difficult the longer he remains in this form.
Truly a creature of pure evil.
.
None can truly know the true nature of the Martya-χvāra
But it is assumed that they come into being when things that shouldn't mate, do.
They're an anomaly among the supernatural
And only certain unique circumstances can create them.
How they are made or born, or why they appear, no one knows.
A true mystery among both Xenobiology and Parabiology.
If only I could understand what brings it forth, then maybe..."
- Extract from a handbook signed; DR. H. JEKYLL
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✞ Other Characters: ✞
Aigaios Chrysaoros Vasilakis/The Gorgon
Darius de la Garde/Desert Jackal
**Blogs are unfinished and will be updated gradually as I find the energy to do so**
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Art made by me~
Comments
Beyond the metropolitan horizon, a lulled summer sun vanishes slowly over the horizon, leaving leftover light to the haze of man’s putrid pollution through which a city silhouette pierces sharply the dying glow of an overdue evening, like a jagged mountain ridge against the sky, a picturesque view of the concrete jungle, if ever there was one. But it doesn’t last for long; the transition from dusk to night is over in an hour or so, during which time the skies are struck right quick about it, splattered with a painter's swift brush, issuing brilliant hues of warm reds, oranges and pinks. The face of the sun then takes a final dip, leaving an empty canvas with no stars to speak of, all of them cancelled out by the millions of light-up homes which put together, cause the dense mass of jumbled-together skyscrapers to shine brightly like a pirate’s treasure trove, turning the sky, finally, into a dull ashen grey. It was nighttime now, truly; time to get to work, Oliver.
The lad sighed, miffed to all shite that his shift was starting. Yet no words of complaint ever left his lips to add to an already toxic work environment; he didn’t want to make the coming night for his co-workers more burdensome than needed. After all, he came of his own free will and now fully knew the nature of his undertaking, so what good would it do to go bellyaching about it? Therefore, with the speed of practice and habit, Oliver quickly slips out of his shirt and trousers, exposing his toned body beneath. After all, the conventionally attractive male form he’d been blessed with was what they were paying him for. Thusly, he was obliged to let them drool over it whilst he played, slid, and danced wildly with pointless seduction across the stage. Of course, it was not his preferred profession, an erotic dancer, but it put food on the table. So, with that in mind, the prospect of a few scanty dosh-dollars filling his head, the young male left the backroom, stepping onto one of the mini-scenes where, in front of him, a crowd of cheering, screaming people's faces stretched as far as even into the darkened lewd corners of the establishment. Most male, naturally, but also some in between, or neither. So packed were they, like sardines, that they were practically almost climbing on top of one another. A rather colourful assortment, too. Glitter, black leather, and so much more were attached to writhing figures who, underneath blaring music and a miasma of rank bodily odours and alcohol, partied hard until some had to seek out the bathroom or be seen out by the bouncers for being too much of a plonker under the influence of booze. All the while, Oliver bends, twists, and moves grace-like underneath neon lighting, turning his fair skin a shade of wicked, sinful red. And throughout the night, the lad allowed, at times, seeking hands to claim their desires; on occasion, he’s prodded, groped, and used like a toy, to the point that if he’d not trained himself not to, he would surely gag. And when his shift finally rolls towards its end, the Englishman is so relieved he practically flies out of the establishment, driven by hunger to claim his overdue dinner. Luckily, he finds a place not too far away, a small-ish diner which serves relatively late. An hour or so until closing time.
The boy sits himself on the nearest chair, elbows on the counter, leaning a bit forwards to spy the menu and for anyone working there. Looking around, it’s relatively quiet. In the corner, he spots a man with his nose in his phone, scrolling through what Oliver could only guess: some reels on Instagram. Occasionally he sipped on his coffee and took an absent bite out of his sandwich. Gods, how Oliver missed Insta.
Remember that little tidbit that Nes could talk the talk but trip and stumble like a newborn deer when it came to walking the walk? Yeah... That sort of happened there. Her face was the picture of flushed shock. Blinking those big eyes and then snapping her mouth shut. She had no idea what to say. Flattered, nonetheless. Biting her lips into her teeth to keep herself from smiling a bit too loud for him to hear and see just how much that got her. But she was only human -- mostly. "I-uhh. You..." A finger waved in the air, once more smiling like a damn fool inside her mouth. "Yooooooou make a kind twig-free offer there, temptress." And boy was she almost tempted. Throw caution to the wind and just free-dive into it. What the hell could happen?
You getting eaten by a fish-man, dumbass.
"If all else fails, maybe I'll roll around a bit naked in the moonlight, but I'll resolve my puny human sources for right now on figuring out how to get her, hmm?" A gentle decline she hoped served well enough to please him. Mischievous wits against another. Safe of her being just as naked as him.
At the campsite, she did her little tidying. Not having expected company at all. Most certainly not a whole-ass myth of a fish to show up just to wear her comfy Juicy Contour pants, that's for sure. When the chair was declined, she understood. It was alien. While a stump or the ground was better, why not make the most of it? She stayed in her spot, leaving the chair, and went about getting those pj's that she had promised. Pulling out the peanut butter and raspberry jam only to pause when she heard the first snap. Instantly her head bobbing up to catch sight of his advancing of the quint little camp.
Her eyes shot to each new movement that caught her attention. Each new sprout of the saplings, to the rhythmic walking of the glow worms. Any lesser girl would have been more or less grossed out. And to a degree, Nes did have some form of heebie-jeebies. But upon watching them move to their secure spots that cast the now outpost of a camp of hers. She marveled at it with glittering eyes, and a large smile. Doing several doubles takes at each thing than bringing that warm smile down upon Jorah with a chipper laugh. "Man I wish I could do that! How do you do that? Is that how you made your home on the lake? Do you even have a home down there? Or do you have a cave?" Some more rapid-fire questions that popped off one by one. She was half tempted to stand but stayed where the bread was only half out of her bag, left on the floor where she'd dropped it to take in the sight.
Realizing her sullying of the slice upon looking down, she quickly grabbed it with a short curse leaving her lips, and shook off what little speckles of dirt had gotten on it, blowing off the rest. Looking at him with a more contained smile. "Did you want one? O-Oh! And thank you! I didn't expect this at all." This being the redesign of her camp. "It's lovely, really, it makes me not want to leave. I wish I could do something like that." Needing to do something with her hands as she--once again--rambled, she had placed the bread on her knee and taken out the jelly and a bag of utensils to smear the butter on. "All I can do is move things in the air. My abilities lean more to the... passive side, I guess? The mind reading and whatnot... I said I could do that, right?" She didn't recall, it sort of slipped from time to time with this girl. "Anyway, passive, as I said. I've done some... questionable things with the telekinetics and all that... Not that I wanted to..." She frowned, losing her train of thought, looking to him to see if he was still even staying on board with her rambling this time. "Um... so, you want one?"
Some time is made to pass in deafening silence, starting from the point Virgiliu finishes his speaking, this despite the obvious glaring fact that time now is such a vital and oh-so-precious commodity. But it is not at all thrown to waste, the moment of tightly laced lips as it progresses. No, in fact, in the inky and turbulent insides of the blood-sucker’s still recuperating, split mind, Thanatos is weighing the words carefully as they are given to him. He tastes them. And through this, he passes judgement on their sincerity… or lack thereof. Indeed, only after every syllable is cross-examined in every conceivable way, a fat minute drawn out, nigh painfully so, as a bow pulled to the breaking point, does Thanatos break lock on his lips and give back his say on what was spoken to him. And when he does, the glowing embers of revenge can be seen smouldering in his eyes. Finally, he says, with a rotten breath, "Well, you shan't find no leash with me. And if ever we disagree, let it be upon my honour that I shall neither hold you back nor question your actions. Every one man is in charge of one's own destiny, I say. Except, of course, any actions that land upon my head through your actions. We are brothers, after all. Not slaves to one another." A muted smile creeps up, and Thanatos’s tongue darn near dances across Virgil’s cheeks as he continues, “Father never understood the difference between property and family. I do, Virgiliu, my brother. I do.”
Distance grows again; Thanatos allows his brother back some form of personal space. However, the breath of putrescence decay likely still lingers in the air for some time after, hovering around Virgil like a dark cloud and sticking to his tattered clothing and pale skin like wet summer dew. Truly disgusting. The vampire hobbles towards the perceived exit, shambling, kicking pebbles aside in the stride towards freedom. But then suddenly, he stops, a raised hand sliding down the wall, sharp claws digging into rock on its descent. “Damn it. I almost forgot. He is still up above, is he not? If so, we cannot ever hope to go this way. We must travel the long way, lest our rebellion be stomped in its infancy. And I will not allow that to happen. Neither will you, yes?”
With a tug on his lips, he does not wait for an answer, giving the beginning of a smile or a smirk. Who could tell? Thanatos then makes his way, with as much haste as the fallen vampire can muster, past Virgil, slowly moving it towards some previously to the eye, unseen tunnel ahead, one that appeared to the two like a small gash in the wall, enough to fit through, but only barely. With a sharp twist of his neck, Thanatos looks back. His body then follows, gyrating to stand fully facing his brother. “Luckily, and quite unknowingly to father, I spent much time meditating in the potent darkness here. This is how I knew of the monster that dwells in these caverns and how I also know of a way to escape them. It is quite a ways away from whence the original exit is and is possibly painful. But the pain is our destiny. NOW, come with me.” There was no hint of a request in that, nor denying it either. Not that the younger half-brother would have time to protest because…
A second flashes, and Thanatos is gone, having pressed his body into the fissure in the wall. Meanwhile, behind Virgiliu, the younger vampire would hear the sudden drop of heavy feet from somewhere high above! Something was upon him…a screaming unlike anything calling out, like that or the tortured shrieks of lake Cocytus.
Thanatos’s footing is disastrously ungainly once helped standing. And at first, he falls, not plummeting back to the ground, luckily, nay, but into the arms of his loving kin. There, he clings, hands grasping desperately at tattered rags draped across a pale frame. Eventually, though, he manages to muster enough strength and stability to stand all on his ownsome, but only just. Taking a few ungainly steps, in appearance, it's like watching a toddler first learn to walk on two. It almost seems the ground is an inevitable fate for him. That is until finally, some primal spark in his brain, or whatever force that drove his thought processes at this point, remembered how one properly put one’s foot in front of the other. Granted, he was still weak, but he could paddle his own boat now. He was learning to become one with his own body, becoming familiar with its flesh once more.
Standing by his tomb, his frail hands grace the surface of his former tomb prison, exploring its rough texture and scratching it with razor-edged claws, enjoying the feeling of sensory feedback again. It was, in a way, as if everything was new to him. Or rather, it was like rediscovering and polishing a long-forgotten memory. Even now, see, the pieces continue to sink firmly into place for the unstable vampire. Whether or not they fell into the right slot, well, that is speculation for another time. For the moment, however, some confidence is granted to him. No longer is he crawling on the cave floor like some manner of a four-legged beast but walking as a man should. His head turns sharply to face his brother, and with pride not previously found in his voice, he states plainly, a matter of factly, “I would have remained in this prison had you not freed me. I’ll not hear a single word relating to any kind of failure. Of any kind, brother, for there is none to be found. The only failure here is the one that brought you here. And that failure, I daresay, does not fall upon your shoulders.” A smile spreads upon Thanatos’s lips, showcasing white parlour fangs. “You know, of course, of whom I speak.” He says and hobbles over to half-brother. “He drove you to become this, didn’t he?”
A hand stretches out, hovering but not touching, over some changed monster-like features on Virgiliu’s face before retreating to Thanatos’s side. The forlorn vampire looks directly into Virgil’s eyes. “And then he drove you here. But how, why?” A sudden shriek pierces their conversation, reminding the two vampires of the monster’s presence. For a moment, Thanatos is in thought. He then explains and poses a question at the end. Thusly, he spoke, “The beast does not hold us as food, but it will destroy anything and anyone, dead or alive, that is moving. We shouldn’t linger, or you will be forced to face it alone. But before we move, there is that one question I need answering, and we WILL spare the time.” The vampire moves closer. They stand half an arms-length now from one another. “WHY did you really free me? Do you know what I’ve done?”
(Hmm Vic is more of a modern man. I have other characterzls that are easier to work into older eras, and I am not entirely opposed to casting vic back though i dont have a lot of ideas in that category off the top of my head. I didn't have anything in particular in mind, but in the modern era Victor is absolutely a Witch first. He thinks vampirism a flaw that needs fixing and has been experimenting on himself to cure it. But he is also working to build a sort of supernatural government in america, very New Money. I could see that rubbing some old money vamps wrong...
He is pretty easy to work in cuz he is nosy. If beings are hurting beings he gets involved, if they are super powerful he gets involved to try an recruit them. He is very much into supernatural networking so families of power are of interest anyway. )
(Hey! Thanks for the invite! I would love to plot something out with yah! Victor is really easy to intigrate because he is nosey and is always involving himself with powerful/dangerous beings. Did you have any specifics in mind?)
Yessss, more vampires!!!
(｡´∀｀)ﾉ"
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