Ariel Lee Underwood (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} _intherough) wrote,@ 2035-03-08 14:23:00 |
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Ariel Lee Underwood
Even savage animals can agree amongst themselves
STATISTICS
NAMEOrlando RossiAriel Lee Underwood
AKA Ari, Bear-Killer, Wolf
AGE 148 (23)
DOB September 17th, 1874
DOT August 12th, 1902
SPECIES Bestial Vampire
HEIGHT 5'8"
BUILD Mildly athletic
HAIR Black
EYES Pale blue - wolf-like with black scelera
SCENT Pine trees, fresh air, cedar, blood
ABILITIES / SKILLS
Vampire: Rather all the typical things known for vampires. He's a walking corpse. He has to drink blood or he'll starve. Animal blood does very little for him. He can't go out in the sun or else he'll burn. He has superhuman strength, speed, and senses. He can only make someone else a vampire by draining their blood and then feeding them his (he has never done this). He sleeps during the day and roams at night, capable of feeling the sun as it sets and rises, making the desire to sleep almost unbearable but he's just old enough to power through it. He's repelled by religious objects and hallowed ground as long as there's real believe behind it and the blessings. A stake through the heart won't kill him but it'll freeze him. Beheading and being set on fire definitely do kill him.
Bestial Vampire: On a much more specific side, Ariel is intimately familiar with the monster that lives in his blood. It allows him perfect vision in the dark. His senses are even more enhanced than a normal vampires. He is even capable of shapeshifting into a grey wolf. It also makes him prone to losing himself to rage and hunger if he isn't careful. The more he indulges in lost control, the more it marks him. Currently, his eyes look more like a wolf's. His fingers are tipped in permanent claws. Ariel also has an excessive number of fangs: three smaller fangs behind his natural vampiric fangs and one in front on either side, with two on either side of the bottom fitting neatly together (totaling fourteen very sharp teeth).
FIRST IMPRESSION
On first glance, what people see the most are his obvious animalistic traits. Very likely, this would make regular people very afraid of him. Others might just be wary. Underneath that, Ariel is independent, resourceful, and functions best when he doesn't have someone ruling over him. He's terrible at asking for help when he needs it. Unforgiving, strong-willed, and impulsive, once he gets hurt, he doesn't give second chances. Betrayers are best dealt with by slitting their throats. Otherwise, he can be perfectly pleasant to deal with if you're on his good side.
Vampire: Rather all the typical things known for vampires. He's a walking corpse. He has to drink blood or he'll starve. Animal blood does very little for him. He can't go out in the sun or else he'll burn. He has superhuman strength, speed, and senses. He can only make someone else a vampire by draining their blood and then feeding them his (he has never done this). He sleeps during the day and roams at night, capable of feeling the sun as it sets and rises, making the desire to sleep almost unbearable but he's just old enough to power through it. He's repelled by religious objects and hallowed ground as long as there's real believe behind it and the blessings. A stake through the heart won't kill him but it'll freeze him. Beheading and being set on fire definitely do kill him.
Bestial Vampire: On a much more specific side, Ariel is intimately familiar with the monster that lives in his blood. It allows him perfect vision in the dark. His senses are even more enhanced than a normal vampires. He is even capable of shapeshifting into a grey wolf. It also makes him prone to losing himself to rage and hunger if he isn't careful. The more he indulges in lost control, the more it marks him. Currently, his eyes look more like a wolf's. His fingers are tipped in permanent claws. Ariel also has an excessive number of fangs: three smaller fangs behind his natural vampiric fangs and one in front on either side, with two on either side of the bottom fitting neatly together (totaling fourteen very sharp teeth).
FIRST IMPRESSION
On first glance, what people see the most are his obvious animalistic traits. Very likely, this would make regular people very afraid of him. Others might just be wary. Underneath that, Ariel is independent, resourceful, and functions best when he doesn't have someone ruling over him. He's terrible at asking for help when he needs it. Unforgiving, strong-willed, and impulsive, once he gets hurt, he doesn't give second chances. Betrayers are best dealt with by slitting their throats. Otherwise, he can be perfectly pleasant to deal with if you're on his good side.
HISTORY
The family came from Maletto, Sicily - poor farmers looking for something better. O! America! The great dream! Orlando had heard the streets were paved in gold. What a terrible lie. There weren't many Italians coming over to the US at the time but it didn't matter. They were less than human the moment they stepped off the boat. He was ten the first time he stepped onto New York soil, the city teeming with life. And he was immediately shoved to the ground by some white American, spit on while his father fought off the attacker.
They had left their aging farm to live in a ghetto with nothing but rats and insects and filth. There was no work to be had except to be a "scab" whenever the strikes were roiling up the workers. Italian scabs were thought even less of than the African-Americans doing the same thing. They were an infestation to be dealt with. He was nearly fifteen when his family took off into the wilderness, following the Oklahoma land rush. Anything to get their 160 acres and build a new life. Farming was something they knew, were experienced at, and it would be so much better than the cramped, disgusting city.
Their farm flourished and they improved the land as the contract had required. While they had dealt with foxes and coyotes and smaller animals of prey, it had never occurred to them to worry about black bears. Most black bears were relatively docile and would run if their bluff charges were countered by loud noises and attacks. Unless you run into a black bear that is hungry or rabid, anyway. No one knows why the bear attacked but Orlando's brother Antonio took the brunt of it. Instead of running, twenty-two-year-old Orlando rushed in to save his brother with nothing but a knife.
The fight with the bear was a blur to him but he knew, at the end of it, that he managed to jam the knife into the roof of the bear's mouth and into the brain. He came away with some minor scratches save for the claw gouges on his chest. Antonio, on the other hand, didn't survive. The bear attack wasn't what killed him - it was the infections that followed. Unknown to the family Rossi, the night time attack had been witnessed... But one fight wasn't enough. Orlando had to prove himself. He picked up the slack that Antonio left behind without fight or complaint. He became the man of his family now that he was the eldest son with no father left.
More and more, he fit what his sire wanted. One evening, Orlando was taken from the family farm. When he woke up, he was in a cave with no one around and no idea where he was. He wandered for hours that night, never finding a living soul. Only his sense of self-preservation got him out of the sun and hidden under a nest of shrubbery in time. He dug in the soil, buried himself as best as he could to hide from the pain before he slept. The next night, the hunger was blinding. He drank from whatever he could find - squirrels, mice, rabbits - until he found her.
She was small, beautiful - a young woman tending her chicken coop. He drank from her until she was nothing but dead flesh in his arms because all he was, at the time, was a monster with no thought in his head but to feed. What kind of demon had he become? But for once in his new unlife, everything was quiet and he could think. What was this nightmare that he was forced into? All he could do was wander, hide, eat, wander hide, eat. It was such a struggle not to give in to his urge to quiet the lives he held in his hands but he didn't want to kill so coldly again...
One evening, he met a man. The man asked him how many winters and Orlando didn't have an answer. The man identified himself as Ironteeth and took Orlando under his wing to teach him of what he had become. There was so much to learn and he tried so hard but every time they seemed to run into one of their kind or someone similar, it was a dick-measuring contest that Ariel had no desire to be part of. No nest or seethe or whatever the fuck they wanted to call themselves appealed to him. He and Ironteeth would, inevitably, move on.
It was the 1940s when he finally struck out on his own. The world that was once wild was becoming tamer and tamer. He had been out from Ironteeth's wing for some time but he'd always felt like he was being worn down by the rules of others. Now, he would live under his own rules. He would venture back into the world to learn what it had become in his absence. The first thing he learned was how to drive a car - which he stole from some chick he picked up in Arizona. He was in Hollywood in the 1950s, slinking around the darker corners and occasionally bumping elbows with someone he shouldn't have been.
He wandered then, bouncing from city to city - New Orleans, Chicago, Miami. In the 90s, he was in Seattle. During his travels, he'd picked up on a couple of instruments. He found that they helped him center himself. For a little while, he'd ended up in a grunge garage band called Underwater Grandma. He stayed there for... Longer than he should have. Ariel's hand was forced and he had to... Take care of one of the members who learned a bit more than he should have. No one ever found that body. They never found Ariel either. He lived off the grid for years, occasionally working odd jobs for vampires who needed cross country messages and didn't trust technology.
He returned to New York City, precisely once, to see the place he had lived as a child... And then he turned away to to cash in a favor with someone a little more highborn than him in Hollywood which sent him to Elphyne, to find a new life.
The family came from Maletto, Sicily - poor farmers looking for something better. O! America! The great dream! Orlando had heard the streets were paved in gold. What a terrible lie. There weren't many Italians coming over to the US at the time but it didn't matter. They were less than human the moment they stepped off the boat. He was ten the first time he stepped onto New York soil, the city teeming with life. And he was immediately shoved to the ground by some white American, spit on while his father fought off the attacker.
They had left their aging farm to live in a ghetto with nothing but rats and insects and filth. There was no work to be had except to be a "scab" whenever the strikes were roiling up the workers. Italian scabs were thought even less of than the African-Americans doing the same thing. They were an infestation to be dealt with. He was nearly fifteen when his family took off into the wilderness, following the Oklahoma land rush. Anything to get their 160 acres and build a new life. Farming was something they knew, were experienced at, and it would be so much better than the cramped, disgusting city.
Their farm flourished and they improved the land as the contract had required. While they had dealt with foxes and coyotes and smaller animals of prey, it had never occurred to them to worry about black bears. Most black bears were relatively docile and would run if their bluff charges were countered by loud noises and attacks. Unless you run into a black bear that is hungry or rabid, anyway. No one knows why the bear attacked but Orlando's brother Antonio took the brunt of it. Instead of running, twenty-two-year-old Orlando rushed in to save his brother with nothing but a knife.
The fight with the bear was a blur to him but he knew, at the end of it, that he managed to jam the knife into the roof of the bear's mouth and into the brain. He came away with some minor scratches save for the claw gouges on his chest. Antonio, on the other hand, didn't survive. The bear attack wasn't what killed him - it was the infections that followed. Unknown to the family Rossi, the night time attack had been witnessed... But one fight wasn't enough. Orlando had to prove himself. He picked up the slack that Antonio left behind without fight or complaint. He became the man of his family now that he was the eldest son with no father left.
More and more, he fit what his sire wanted. One evening, Orlando was taken from the family farm. When he woke up, he was in a cave with no one around and no idea where he was. He wandered for hours that night, never finding a living soul. Only his sense of self-preservation got him out of the sun and hidden under a nest of shrubbery in time. He dug in the soil, buried himself as best as he could to hide from the pain before he slept. The next night, the hunger was blinding. He drank from whatever he could find - squirrels, mice, rabbits - until he found her.
She was small, beautiful - a young woman tending her chicken coop. He drank from her until she was nothing but dead flesh in his arms because all he was, at the time, was a monster with no thought in his head but to feed. What kind of demon had he become? But for once in his new unlife, everything was quiet and he could think. What was this nightmare that he was forced into? All he could do was wander, hide, eat, wander hide, eat. It was such a struggle not to give in to his urge to quiet the lives he held in his hands but he didn't want to kill so coldly again...
One evening, he met a man. The man asked him how many winters and Orlando didn't have an answer. The man identified himself as Ironteeth and took Orlando under his wing to teach him of what he had become. There was so much to learn and he tried so hard but every time they seemed to run into one of their kind or someone similar, it was a dick-measuring contest that Ariel had no desire to be part of. No nest or seethe or whatever the fuck they wanted to call themselves appealed to him. He and Ironteeth would, inevitably, move on.
It was the 1940s when he finally struck out on his own. The world that was once wild was becoming tamer and tamer. He had been out from Ironteeth's wing for some time but he'd always felt like he was being worn down by the rules of others. Now, he would live under his own rules. He would venture back into the world to learn what it had become in his absence. The first thing he learned was how to drive a car - which he stole from some chick he picked up in Arizona. He was in Hollywood in the 1950s, slinking around the darker corners and occasionally bumping elbows with someone he shouldn't have been.
He wandered then, bouncing from city to city - New Orleans, Chicago, Miami. In the 90s, he was in Seattle. During his travels, he'd picked up on a couple of instruments. He found that they helped him center himself. For a little while, he'd ended up in a grunge garage band called Underwater Grandma. He stayed there for... Longer than he should have. Ariel's hand was forced and he had to... Take care of one of the members who learned a bit more than he should have. No one ever found that body. They never found Ariel either. He lived off the grid for years, occasionally working odd jobs for vampires who needed cross country messages and didn't trust technology.
He returned to New York City, precisely once, to see the place he had lived as a child... And then he turned away to to cash in a favor with someone a little more highborn than him in Hollywood which sent him to Elphyne, to find a new life.
FAMILY TREE
MOTHER Bianca (presumed deceased)
FATHER Giovani (deceased)BROTHER Antonio (deceased)
SPOUSE Alder St. Cyr
◇Ruin
◇Ancient
◇CST
◇PB: Rob Raco
◇CODE BY TESSISAMESS