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Angelus Acheron Ambrosiaster____________________
If something can be achieved easily, it probably isn’t worth it.
_______________________☪ First things first:
★ | You may call me “My Lord.” Only my closest companions dare to call me Angel.
★ | I am five hundred and forty three years old.
★ | The gods made me a vampire.
★ | And as you may have guessed I am male, through and through.
_______________________☪ Mark me well:
★ | I am six feet and three inches tall.
★ | My build is toned, lean and muscular, thank you very much. I take great pride in my appearance (and everything else). You may touch if you would like (really, please, feel free) and I can guarantee you won’t find even an ounce of needless fat on my body.
★ | My lovely locks are god sent. Just touch these long, silken waves of sable. I have better hair than your lover, your mother and your sister.
★ | They say eyes are the window to the soul, mine are dark enough to draw you in and swallow you whole.
★ | What you may or may not see are my battle scars. Perhaps there are not as many as my dear General has, but they’re there. And I have the feeling that with my little sandcat around, I’m bound to get a few more.
_______________________☪ Things you should know:
★ | Inside && Out: When people say that beauty is only skin deep, they are really just jealous. I imagine that I come off as an extremely smug, conceited, and all-around arrogant b*****d -- and you would be one-hundred percent correct. My inherent selfishness is potent blend of possessiveness and greed. What’s mine is mine and what’s yours is also mine. It doesn’t go the other way around. If you have something I want, I will have it. And I am spectacularly good at getting what I want. When I devote myself to something, I go after it with a single-mindedness that inspires fear in my friends and well as my foes. I do what it takes to get what I want, though sometimes I am forced to exercise my superior acting abilities to get the results I desire. I'm not being lazy; I don’t mind a challenge when it comes my way. In fact, I relish the chance to push myself beyond my limits. It's when things come to me too easily that it becomes tedious. And there is absolutely no fun in the mundane and boring.
As a leader, I am fearless and charismatic. I draw others around me like moths to the flame, leading my people as I carve a bloody path through any obstacles I may encounter. I don’t mind using others as simple pawns -- I move the pieces according to my will and make the necessary sacrifices. After all, the game ends when the king is dead. Regardless, I don’t at all mind taking part in doing my own dirty work. In battle, my bloodlust in legendary. My bitter enemies describe me as cruel, merciless and savage, though far be it from me to take that fearsome description as anything less than a well-earned compliment. I’m well aware that I’m a sadist. I don’t care what anyone may think about me, and I don’t take criticism well, but you would be hard pressed to find those who would tell me to my face without fear. I don’t easily put my trust in others, for I’ve seen what happens to those who easily allow themselves that weakness, and there is only on person alive whom I would entrust with my life.
I dislike not being in control. It makes me irritable and agitated. Having been raised in an environment that dictates such proper protocol, I find it most amusing to break out the suffocating grip decorum has grasped on the vampire society. It’s always such a pleasure to make them uncomfortable, not knowing what to do and not being able to do anything about it. My mother could barely control me as a boy, and that still hasn’t changed. As stated, I have a very untraditional sense of humor and I’ve never been one to be above mockery. I like to make a certain amount of mischief and see what happens. I’m quite curious and I like to know things. A good secret-keeper I may be, though I abhor them being kept from me. It's a very good battle strategy, if you ask me. Surprise attacks are so tacky. Personally, I relish in crushing my enemy while he has the full knowledge that he fought with everything he had, and still managed to be completely decimated.
Logic rules my mind and knowledge is the root of my power. Resourceful, I have a habit for finding usefulness in seemingly useless things. I focus on strategy rather than brute force, and thus far, my devious and calculating mind has not failed me yet. However; let it be known at I am honorable. I set to play by the rules (my own rules of course, though it makes little difference) and as my own personal code dictates, you will never, ever, catch me cheating. Fair play usually makes things more challenging, and thusly, more entertaining. But typically, that is the best you’ll get out of me. I rarely exercise those touchy-feely human sentiments of “being nice” and “showing kindness.” Or mercy, for that matter. I’ve simply never really had the need nor the want to practice those kinds of emotions. Considering the way I’ve been raised, it’s no small surprise that I am usually insensitive to the plights of others. And love? Well… that’s another matter entirely, but I can just imagine the trouble such a complicated emotion will bring me.
★ | Likes ♕ knowledge. ♕ power. ♕ winning. ♕ games. ♕ a challenge. ♕ my pretty slave. ♕ blood. ♕ organization. ♕ nighttime.
★ | Dislikes ♘ submission. ♘ vulnerability. ♘ boredom. ♘ boundaries. ♘ silence. ♘ the little queenie. ♘ mysteries. ♘ the ignorant.
★ | And I'm the Heir to the Throne.
★ | Pulling my strings is suntelia.
_______________________☪ What you shouldn't know:
★ | It is forbidden, but I love the Slave Princess.
★ | There are some things that should stay in the past, but if you must know I was born to be king.
No, this isn't just my pride speaking, I was really was created to eventually ascend the throne. Everything -- my skills as a warrior, my ability as a leader, my sharp intellect -- they were all taught to me and cultivated into for that one, singular purpose. My father, the previous king, was and still is a paradigm I constantly strive to reach. The only person I‘ve ever admired, my father was known to be a tyrant during his reign as the vampire monarch. Respected and admired by his fellow kin, Dardanos Ambrosiaster inspired fear into all who dared to speak his name. I was still quite young when he died, only twelve years old. He was found dead in his human’s bedchamber, beheaded and his heart cut out. While a vampire can withstand many things, decapitation is not one of them. She refused to admit to the deed, pleading that she had been framed, but it didn’t matter. My mother wanted revenge and had the human tortured and burned alive as an example.
I didn’t think it was nearly enough.
From even before I could walk, my training began. First, to curb my infantile blood lust, and therefore, my lack of control. Which is mighty impressive, if I do say so myself. The last thing I want to be is a mindless berserker, even if it true vampire nature to unleash our primal instincts as a predator. As a result, I never had much of a childhood. Of course, I was allowed the finer luxuries being a prince and all, but I never had any friends. My toys were all the company I had and I had to entertain myself for hours. Father and Mother never coddled me the way I’d seen other parents dote upon their children. it was to give me a backbone, I suppose. Still, there were always the tutors to infuriate. It was their annoying need to drone on and on about things that were of no importance to me. Not surprisingly, as a boy, I had no interest in learning what I considered boring grown-up things. Even then, I had a knack for causing trouble, especially for my mother. It probably didn’t help that I usually got away with my petty pranks with no one knowing the wiser.
Lessons in combat skills began when I hit puberty, just after my father’s death. I hated it. The sweat, the aches, the blisters. I was accustomed to getting my way and I would never hesitate to complain about anything I didn’t like. But my cantankerous mother was incessant, and she happens to hold the largest stubborn streak I’ve ever encountered. Then, nearly two months into my lessons, I came upon a startling discovery. Being one who has an extremely fast learning curve, I quickly began to realize something very interesting as I went from one teacher to another. I was strong. Stronger than many of the vampires who were even several hundred years older than me. Soon, I realized that my unparalleled strength was part of being a born vampire, the descendant of the most powerful reigning vampires of the age. By this time, I was no longer had to be forced to partake in my training. I wanted to be there. I was determined to one day outshine the memory of my father and become a king he would have wanted, respected, even.
Combat soon became a part of me. Well versed in seven forms of martial arts, fifty different kinds of weapons and an unsurpassed strength that not one warrior could best, I thought I could take on the world. I was nineteen years old when they finally called in the General to be my teacher. I was a cocky brat, and as arrogant as ever. I knew I was better than any of the warriors in my father’s army so why should the general of these weaklings be any different? Fox, he called himself, looking as imposing as they came. I goaded him, taunted, but none of my childish tactics worked on him. In short, he kicked my a** from here to Hades. I had never been so embarrassed, nor so frustrated in my entire life. I had been aiming too high, I realized. I would never surpass my father with this obstacle looming before me. From that day on, he trained me harder, subjecting me to a pace that had me question my own sanity. Though my mother originally objected, he took me with him on several campaigns to quell human uprisings. There, I witnessed death firsthand and soon found that I was suited for the battlefield.
During this time, Fox and I had maintained a distant student-teacher relationship that was ultimately based upon begrudging respect and acquired tolerance to my idiocy. But as we spent more time together, I began looking at him less like a teacher and more like a brother. It took some time of careful prodding on my part, but in the end, like all things, I gained his friendship. I suspect that it happened on the battlefield: when brothers in arms fight side by side, the comfort in knowing a comrade has your back, a companionship slowly develops based upon that sense of compete and utter trust. There is no other whom I trust so completely. Then, a near decade later, it happened. It wasn’t a win, really, but our draw spoke volumes to those who were there to witness our fight. That day, he fell to one knee before half of the royal army and swore his allegiance to me. It was the most satisfying moment in all my life.
One hundred and fifty years later, and still at my side, I sent Fox out on a routine scouting mission. There had been several human revolts in the months prior and I wanted to make sure that their futile rebellions were set to rest. Days later, it is my great displeasure to receive word that Fox and his battalion were attacked by sandcats. I was immensely pleased when he returned to me alive. As though sandcats could defeat the Bloody Wolf, I had scoffed. And then that stupid woman nearly broke him. No sandcat could fell Fox, but leave it to a woman. My dislike of the female gender increased. My father, and now even my closest friend had fallen victim to their games. That was when I began my own game. I’ve never told him, but I had the woman taken care of the next night. As I’ve said before, I protect me and mine. You cannot damage something that belongs to me and expect to get away with it unscathed. She died a terrible death that night. “Gone home,” indeed.
Still, despite my increasing distrust of the opposite gender, I played, on and off different battlefields. One after the other, I courted vampiric beauties and left them panting and pining over me for centuries. Simultaneously, I remained consistently victorious against invading enemy nations, though one could argue that the human females I owned over the years faired far worse than they. The ones that actively fought against me quickly became my favorites. I could see the smoldering hatred in their eyes, taste it when it gathered and overflowed. Most never lasted for very long. Unfortunately, there is only so much abuse a human can take before they break. When my last plaything finally lived out it’s usefulness (I was surprised, since it had taken a good fifteen years to break her spirit completely), I tossed her away like garbage. It didn’t matter to me where she ended up. Several months dragged by before there was something new to catch my interest. Finally, Fox brought me home a present. A savage little sandcat of my very own and ready to rip my head off. I was immediately taken.
From the our very first meeting, it had been war. She hated me, I hated her. It was simple and familiar, but this time, there was something different. Unlike the other human females I had used, she was a warrior, not completely bound by a woman’s naturally submissive nature. She captivated me and never ceased to surprise me. At every turn, she had me wondering what she would try next. And she never failed to disappoint. Gradually, I came to harbor an inkling of respect for her. It was almost impossible not to, with the kind of grit she had. Soon, I found that I would rather spend time verbally sparring with her than to attend my own duties. Before I knew it, we had become civil enough when together to actually manage a real conversation. Again, she managed to surprise me with her sharp intellect. Then, one day, as we sat together, I realized something that tilted my world on its very axis. I was starting to develop feelings for this woman. I was starting to care when she was mad or upset and like it when she smiled. I could never be with her. What happened to my father began haunting my mind, returning as a nightmare every night.
I know what will happen. And I can’t afford this weakness.
suntelia · Tue Sep 01, 2009 @ 11:07pm · 0 Comments |
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