VELAZQUEZ, Ignacio

VELAZQUEZ, Ignacio Jul 28, 2016 15:13:58 GMT -8

Post by Deleted on Jul 28, 2016 15:13:58 GMT -8

Ignacio Velazquez

T H E B A S I C S

- - - - - - - - - - -

`` FULL NAME
Ignacio Valazquez
`` NICKNAMES
Death's Raven, Vasco, Corvi de Morte, Mors Miles

`` GENDER
Male
`` ORIENTATION
Pansexual
`` OCCUPATION
Horse Breeder/Trainer
`` LANGUAGES
Latin, Spanish, English, Romani, Calo, Basque, French, Italian, and a dead language too old to have a name.

`` BIRTHPLACE
Modern day Iberian peninsula.
`` BIRTHDAY Winter solstice, December 21
`` AGE
5000 years, give or take a few centuries.

`` EYE COLOR
Black, with no visible distinction between pupil and iris.
`` HAIR COLOR
Black with an iridescent sheen like raven feathers.
`` HEIGHT
5' 10"
`` WEIGHT
180
`` DISTINCTIVE MARKINGS
-
`` SCARS
His throat is a web of scar tissue, lighter in color than the rest of his dusky olive skin.
`` PIERCINGS -

`` TATTOOS
-
`` FACE CLAIM
Manuel Santiago Maya "Manolete"

`` MEMBER GROUP
Vampires

T H E P A R T I C U L A R S

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

There is a strange dichotemy in this one. He is in every way a gentleman, dignified and confident in his power. He is courtly, genteel, and well mannered. His tongue is sharp, his mind well educated, and his hands quicker to turn to music than to blades. He fences with the same grace with which he dances. Each step as though rehearsed. There is ever a touch of wicked laughter in his eyes and on his lips. And so he is cold, measured, and calculating. He plays social games and politics well and take great joy in it. He tends to prefer the company of the higher class for these things, as they are well born it it.

And yet.... and yet his is fire. The primitive joy of a beating heart like a drum, the cold iron taste of adrenaline and the sweet feeling of muscles pushed to their limits. The hot scent of the chase in his nostrils. The press of flesh on flesh, the heat of blood on his lips. This things all he desires and seeks.

So he is a creature of passion and restraint. He is a beast of savagery and grace. He is a gentleman of fury and laughter.

`` FAVORABLE TO

Dance, music. Watching the stars turn overhead. The inevitable passage of time. The throb of life.
`` UNFAVORABLE TO

Those who sit too comfortably upon the status quo, those who think him someone to trifle with, the inevitable loneliness of immortality.
`` ENJOYS

Dancing, singing. Reading and occassionally writing poetry. The hunt. Combat with a worthy foe.
`` AFRAID OF

To be crippled, helpless, the pawn of another.

T H E H I S T O R Y

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

On the shores of the Atlantic Ocean, near a point where the city of Cadiz would eventually be founded, Ignacio's life began. Only, his name then was not Ignacio. The language he spoke only held a shadow of what language would become given many thousands of years. It is not his gift to remember the past though, so much of this has been lost to time. It was late in his life when he was turned and even the attack and his sire are misty. In many ways, Ignacio is not truly human at all. He remembers so little of those short decades of humanity.

He watched the rise of trade and civilization. He watched tools of bronze become replaced by iron. He saw nomads settle and create vast farmlands. Throughout this time, Ignacio lived much as a wild thing. There was no master at this time, and there were few places to hide in small farming communities. And so he stalked the woods. He was a predator, a bogeyman. He acted on little more than instinct and base need. He was hunted many times but Ignacio is clever. Ignacio lived. He roamed much of Europe in this time though primarily in the south, along the Mediterranean. He had no taste of the cooler climes of the north.

Towns began to turn into cities. People conquered the oceans. Ignacio found he was not alone. Off a dark sailed ship carrying a cargo of flesh came a man and a woman, Greek in origin. He smelled death upon them and they drew him from the darkness. They lay the beast to rest and over many years taught him to be part of civilization again. To love and to laugh and to cherish the clever things the humans around them came up with, for such ingenuity is oft beyond the grasp of the immortal. As a trio they graced the halls of Emperors and Kings, watches as they rose and fell.

Some time in this era, stories began to emerge. Or perhaps this is simply when they began to spread. His name began to spread (Mors Miles, Corvi de Morte). For it was rumored that he courted an old goddess of death and she had laid her hands upon him and made him her consort and champion. But what is this but fairy tales.

It was the Crusades that eventually caught up with them. His lovers fell to holy swords and fire. But Ignacio was clever. Ignacio escaped. The beast's cunning that had done him so well rose again from the abyss and guided him through sand and ash to freedom. But now he knew how to soothe the beast and regain the semblance of man. Cities were beginning to go strange enough to hide the eccentricities of those who had enough wealth. And wealth he had. So he bought his privacy and his freedom among men. He gained powerful allies but never friends- he did not wish to get too close.

Industry replaced the way things were. The world moved forward. He visited London and sailed upon a steamer. He distrusts the rocking of a deck far more than the safety of horseback. He heard of a new world, and he returned to Spain to accompany a new kind of crusade, though he was not the victim of it. And so, Ignacio came to the Americas. He spent much time in South and Central America, both among the colonies and the native peoples. Too he spent time alone, years wandering wild and solitary. Then the wars ended. He journeyed North. For a long time he raised horses in Arizona, California, and Texas. It's hard to hide your true nature though, and before the age of the cowboy and the Wild West faded he was hunted.

He was hunted for many years over most of the US and even into the wilds of Canada by an Ungifted hunter and his wolf-shifter wife. Eventually they brought him to bay in the icy, snowy depths of winter. It was a poor fight and in the end he lost his throat but gained his life by throwing himself into river. The ice that coated it cracked, thrust him under, and the current carried him... away.

It was a several decades before he surfaced again. He has mostly been biding his time and keeping a low profile. He heard of Brookings through various rumors and after a good long think (which takes him several years sometimes), he decided to take a look. He thinks that perhaps he's spent enough time lying low and working for others and he heard there was open land available that might be suitable for starting a modest stable on.

`` MOTHER

`` FATHER

`` SIBLINGS

`` SIGNIFICANT OTHER

`` CHILDREN
If he had family once, they have been lost to the sands of time.

`` OTHER
He has sired several fledglings across the millennia, but none of them have remained close.

T H E A B I L I T I E S

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

`` ABILITY/POWER His vampiric gifts are finely honed through many centuries of use. Though he does not often guile people he does make use of his memory altering gifts with surgical precision- he has only lived this long by being -careful- and he will continue to do so.

`` STRENGTHS
Cunning
Strong sense of self preservation
Capable fighter

`` WEAKNESSES
Instinct-driven
Proud
Issues with authority