Post by Donovan Sawyer on Dec 16, 2012 21:55:50 GMT 1
Playby: Wesley Snipes
Name: Donovan Sawyer
Age: 792 / 38
Sex: Male
Sexual Orientation: Pansexual
Species: Vampire
Physical Description:
Donovan is tall even by modern standards at an impressive 6' 6” and his presence and powerful build make him seem even taller. His heavy, sculpted musculature and economy of motion betrays his origins as a warrior. His looks are classic for his Egyptian heritage with the ruddy, brown skin and dark, curled hair of the southern nubian ethnicity. His hair is generally kept close shaven in warrior style and he carries the tattoos of his ancestry and scars of his many battles with pride. His once hazel eyes have paled with age to a burnt yellow.
Attitude:
Donovan is a proud and righteous man with a very strong sense of what is fair and just. A champion of freedom both of thought and action, he has opposed slavery all through history watching and participating in the fall of slave dependant cultures across the globe. Donovan now finds he has doubts regarding how the vampires are handling their clearly necessary intervention in the lives and liberties of the human race; slaves always revolt. He is determined to set an example with his district of fairness and liberty.
Abilities:
Standard vampire abilities: Strength of five men - speed unknown but v.fast - can crawl on walls - supernaturally tough skin - healing blood.
He also has compulsion though he almost never uses it as a matter of principle.
Donovan can extrude a cloud of living darkness around himself that blocks light and muffles sounds around him to others perceptions. The cloud rapidly burns away in sunlight leaving him vulnerable and exhausted (not to mention crispy - no he is not a day-walker - lol).
Weaknesses:
Standard vampire weaknesses: Burns in sunlight/fire - incapacitated by staking or decapitation - silver burns like acid - Lycan blood causes sickness - zombie virus transforms to Slag.
Donovan hates slavery with a passion and can be provoked to rage over the subject.
He cannot stand the taste of fear in the blood and it nauseates him to the point of vomiting.
He always wakes confused and disoriented from the vivid dreams/memories of his Maker which still haunt him.
History: (200 words minimum)
Rule Code Word: (It's in the rules)
Species Code Word: (It's in the species description)
Clarification Code Word: (It's in the clarification thread)
Citizens Laws and Vampire Laws Code Words: (It's in the New Vegas Laws section under Citizens Laws and Vampire Laws)
Rp Sample:
Duqmaaq lay dying on the field of battle. He had led a full life and he would die a great man, a man who had left his mark on history. The sun had set, painting the sky in colours of blood and gold and as his heartbeat slowed with the falling night he knew he would not see another dawn. He did not know when the stranger appeared beside him; the man seemed to simply melt out of the night with a gentle breeze and the scent of myrrh. The man began speaking to him, his accent strangely foreign, and he conversed as if he were an old friend though he was not. He asked many questions about Duqmaaq's life and the dying Mameluke felt oddly compelled to answer. When he had done with his questions the man nodded sagely and sank his fangs into Duqmaaq's throat.
He woke again, with considerable surprise, in a shallow grave beside the man who was no longer a stranger but the most important person in his new life. He was hushed to silence and the man led him deep into a cave where he built a fire and sat down in the manner of a storyteller. Duqmaaq followed suit and listened in awed silence as the man who was not a human man began to speak of his own life and death and undeath. The night stretched out and still the man talked as the fire burned low and finally died out just before the dawn. The tale had reached the current moment in time and the man stopped, looking at Duqmaaq with an odd light of expectation in his eyes.
“Why have you done this thing?” Duqmaaq asked. “Why do you tell me all of this?”
“Because I am one thousand years old,” his Maker replied. “and I have left nothing in this world to mark my passing. Do not make the same mistake my only progeny.”
The sun rose once more, another dawn that Duqmaaq would never see again, and the new fledged vampire was sucked into the deep daylight slumber of his kind as the ancient one rose to his feet. Casting aside his cloak and heavy robes, his head covering, his jewellery and his purse of gold, the ancient walked out to greet the sun with a new peace in his heart; his mark would be his child.
When the new vampire rose again to the night his Maker was ashes on the wind and he was filled with a great rage and an even greater sadness. His Maker had placed a great obligation on his shoulders and the weight of it kept him strong and his despair at bay. He would not day-walk; he had a world to shape. He could never return to the life he had known and so taking the name Dowana al-Rashid ibn Samer he travelled North. Each day he dreamed again of his Maker's words, that one last conversation the culmination of a millennia of life and gathered wisdom. Whenever he felt doubt, whenever he felt lost, he had only to remember his Maker's words to find his path again.
