I watched with glee while your kings and queens Fought for ten decades for the gods they made
The man now known as the Valenti clan patriarch was born in 17 B.C. to a western Scythian tribe. Ancient legends tell of Scythians being the first to domesticate horses, and had been known as fierce archers that were in decline by this time. Mercenary work was exceedingly common, and of course, the biggest army at the time was Roman.
It's hard for some to imagine the inhuman vampire leader as a warm breathing person, and frankly, he prefers to keep it that way. A very select few have shades of what happened before he entered into the military-- what comes through is a sense of loss of family, knowledge that his people and culture were dying, and...
If anything was good at absorbing and regimenting, it was the Roman military. It was the first time for him to find himself disappearing into a mass, immersing himself into his sagittarii unit, becoming efficient and almost-invisible at once. The most influential of the unit formed a loose society, each given units-- he was Five, the V numeral.
March 15, 44 BC, Julius Caesar was assassinated. Chaos was unleashed, and being caught in between the Optimates and the Roman lower classes was a bad position indeed. He was badly wounded, on his deathbed... except one of his former fellow soldiers had a secret, a secret of blood that was shared. But he'd learn quickly that this was no blessing. Had he known the price it would bring...
Both presumed dead, they stole off in the cover of night, easily lost in the vast city. His maker, Vicent, redubbed him Xavier. Eventually Vicent made more children, and then he served as Vicent's duke. Intellectual appetites grew, and time gave him the ability to pass as nobility despite being born basically barbarian. He wanted to learn and understand all the reasons powerful men fought, to find those who made worthwhile company.
Vicent fell to a hunter. The loss was a reminder of other losses hundreds of years past. It made him quieter, and to those who didn't know him he seemed harsh, dry-humored. Many of Vicent's children fell away as he had no drive to lead and saw no one he cared to turn.
Until...
Florence, 1650. In the old Roman Empire home territory, a girl. A vicious, ruthless girl that seemed like a shallow human shade of his own listlessness. It was curiosity, and then she was dying, and the potential of seeing what would happen was too great to pass up.
The compulsion took root. Who am I? I am... your Orpheus. I am leading you beyond the other side, and if we ever look back, we'll be burned to cinder.
PRESENT DAY
Pleased to meet you, hope you guessed my name But what's confusing you is just the nature of my game
New Orleans, in his mind, is perfect in most aspects. The turf wars, to put it colloquially, are an inconvenience. An ideal life would to be able to put his feet up and enjoy the wonderful savagery of N'awlins and the influence of the French language and culture he grew to love over the centuries, but... the fighting has its own charm. The difficulties forming truce with him bud from defensiveness some might consider paranoia. Voodoo as a topic is fascinating, but necromancy is too big a threat to trust. Werewolves rouse indifference, but they're largely in the way.
PERSONALITY
So if you meet me, have some courtesy, have some sympathy and some taste. Use all your well-learned politesse or I'll lay your soul to waste
Despite how unaffected he may seem, there is some curiosity buried in the heart of the patriarch. He hasn't altogether given up on the idea of a truly good human, even if they would be terrible liabilities to try to defend. He is prone to occasionally become fascinated with humans, asking them endless questions that sound odd to anyone's ears but his own. In his own schizoid way, it's the closest he has to a real expression of esteem or affection; there is no higher compliment than wanting to understand someone inside out. The end result can be strangely almost warm, at the least an off-kilter friendly vibe. Beware if he ever suddenly runs out of questions for you.
Remnants of all ages of history he's seen can be found in his private rooms, the hardwood floors and long table in it made from the deck of an old ship. There's little snobbery; Welsh metalwork and Moorish tapestries share spaces with 1970s poets and 1990s music. He dresses in modern clothes, keeps a modern haircut,still remembers the fastest way to disembowel you, and would feel little to nothing in doing it. It's not viciousness, which would equate to a malice. It's ruthlessness-- an indifferent lack of mercy or trust.
Going out in public is tricky these days. He doesn't seem human. His eyes seem very crystal-bright despite his dead status, and he stretches his feeds thin; to touch he's not just without body heat, he's freezing, like glass, like ice, like a mannequin kept in a freezer, frozen lake cold, mocha freeze cold, scraping frost off your windshield cold.
If you're not careful, you might find yourself wanting to be cold too.
STATS
Just as every cop is a criminal and all the sinners saints, As heads is tails, just call me Lucifer, 'cause I'm in need of some restraint
ALIASES: V, Number Five, the Nameless, the Saint of Killers, Valenti, Saint Valenti, and to those over 400 years old perhaps Xavier. Many others in the mundane human world for business transactions. GENDER: Male SPECIES: Vampire RELATIONSHIP STATUS: N/A HEIGHT: 6'7" WEIGHT: 245 lbs. HAIRCOLOR: Dark brown EYECOLOR: Pale blue BORN: 17 B.C. PLACE: Panticapes (modern Inhul) River, 10 miles north of the Black Sea DEATH: March 5, 44 B.C. PLACE: Rome AGE: 27 /2056
RP INFO PLAYER: Corey IC AIM: saintvalenti OOC AIM: five.of.one TIME ZONE: U.S. Central, awake times erratic STYLE: Storybook 3rd Person preferred OPTIONS: AIM, GDocs, Thread