Age: 458
late 20s
Vampire
French/English
Birthday: Aug 22, Leo/Virgo cusp
Orientation: Closet Bisexual
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Occupation: Owner of the Crowley Quill book store specializing in antiques, philanthropist and eccentric
-Appearance-
Natural hair: Ebony black, curly but keeps it straight and manageable
Natural eye: dark brown almost black.
Current eye: hazy blue due to poor eyesight
6'5, freakishly tall
Pale
Scars: Claw mark to the side of the face, other scars hidden beneath clothing
Dresses sharp, always clean cut
-Personality-
:Positive:
Loyal Generous
Passionate
Intelligent
:Negative:
Recluse
Antisocial
Untrusting
Technology inept
Blunt
-Hobbies-
Poetry
Writing
Reading
Painting
Music: Chello, Violin, Piano
Medical science
Cooking
-Backstory-
The misfortune surrounding Gabriel, a young Marquis in 16th century France, was the favored gossip amongst most noble men and women. His newly acquired title obtained by tragic means after his family's ship ran aground, sinking into the sea. Being the youngest of 4 brothers no one expected much from him, as he typically spent most of his time reading and writing with no particular interest in war or politics. However, with the unfortunate demise of his immediate family, he was bequeathed all of the family's wealth and lands. His new acquired status bringing him unwanted attention and eager suiters all with little regard for his grief and all for his money.
It was not long before he married, A widowed countess 10years his senior. The future looked bright for him as she was soon with child, twins. But after they were born things seemed to change. His wife suffered from violent outbursts, and few knew what went on behind closed doors but there help, one of which had been with the there family since the day she was born, She had harbored feelings for the master of the house since they were children and soon she could no longer hold her tongue. Furious his wife ordered her away, but unannounced to him was the horrendous atrocities that would befall the girl.
A year passed and the lady of the house only grew worse and was locked away in her rooms for her own protection as well as the rest of the house. Grief struck once more Gabriel was at a loss. But he would get no relief as his wife took her own life. Months passed in a blur until he discovered what had become of the maid his wife had banished. She had been withering in a dark dank cell for months and months. Fearing it was too late he sent his men to retrieve her, how she was clinging to life he did not know and spent the remainder of the year nursing her to recovery.
Another year passed and he and the maid married, a controversial thing amongst the nobles, And as the years passed six more children would grace the halls of the estate. They were happy, despite the talk, and thanked God for every day they had together for to them it was a miracle. Though again his happiness was short-lived fore one day while his new wife was out on the town she had gone missing. Frantic and worried Gabriel searched for her to no avail before he fell ill the following year, heartache and grief finally had become too much for his soul to bear.
But all was not lost as one-night when Gabriel was particularly feverish his wife returned to him, leaning over his bed like an angel beckoning him to the afterlife, But she was no such thing. Not seeing a future for herself without him she did the one thing in her power that would save his life. A selfish act perhaps but by no means was it without good intention. A few days passed and Gabriel awoke to a world of defining sounds and overpowering smells...and thirst so strong he felt as though he would go mad. His strength had returned to him tenfold and above all else, his wife.
From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were—I have not seen
As others saw—I could not bring
My passions from a common spring—
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow—I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone—
And all I lov’d—I lov’d alone—
Then—in my childhood—in the dawn
Of a most stormy life—was drawn
From ev’ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still—
From the torrent, or the fountain—
From the red cliff of the mountain—
From the sun that ’round me roll’d
In its autumn tint of gold—
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass’d me flying by—
From the thunder, and the storm—
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view—
-Poe