Obscured Application

Character Information
Character Name: János Bartol
Nicknames: Jonás Bernard, Odd Jobs, Gunther
Age/DoB: 119, 3 November, 1894
Species: Vampire
Group: SETE DE VIAȚĂ
Specialty in Group: Just a guy… comes and goes. He’s kind of a messy roommate, so no one really minds too much when he’s not around. Sometimes brings little things he’s found along the way.
Occupation: A little of this, a little of that. Hits, deals, swindles… He’s not a 9-5 corporate kind of guy. Well, he’s more the nightshift kind.
Living situation: Sometimes at the Sete house. Most often just wherever he happens to find himself when the sun comes up.
Family:
Ilsa Bartal (Wife) Deceased
Cili Bartal (Daughter) 97
Ilka Kristof (Granddaughter) 72
Dani Patrik (Great-granddaughter) 50
(Dani has at least one child, but I am leaving this vague for possible storyline)
Appearance:
Tall, dark, and brooding. Longish mop of dark hair, often seen covering his striking green eyes. Janos stands at 6'4" tall, is slender, pale, and tattooed. Despite his height, he's not overly intimidating in size. More, it is often a surprise to find him there as he often tends to blend into the shadows as much as possible.
Distinguishing marks: He likes tattoos, and wears many, even if they do have a tendency to heal up and fade away. His current silver-laced ink includes (among others) full left tribal sleeve, flames on leg (over an actual scar from a childhood burn), J on index finger, and several roses. Many scars including burns, stab wounds, and bullet wounds. He is missing a portion of his left ear and walks with a slight limp from damage sustained on his left foot due to stepping on a land mine in his mortal days.
PB: Ville Valo
Personality:
Sinister and secretive, very dark, and with a morbid sense of humor. Which is not to say Janos doesn't also find humor in the less morose, though his own tends to run along that vein. His life, even after the embrace, has not been easy, and Janos does as he has always done, whatever is needed. He is fiercely determined, looks out for Janos, and he takes care of business, often doing the dirty work others shy away from. He does have a weak spot or two, and those who can find it will find him not too difficult to manipulate. His loyalty does not come easily, nor fully, and whoever crosses such lines will eventually find themselves paying a heavy price. He holds tight to resentment, never one to easily let go a perceived slight.

He works hard, but on the flip side, he plays hard too, often indulging heavily in drug use. What he sells he uses as well. He is often compulsive, even obsessive, has a hedonistic bent and is willing to try anything and everything at least once. A bigger better high, or anything just to get off.

Though a passionate creature, his passions are often left smoldering beneath the surface until released by drugs, anger, or other excitement.

History:
1894, the ancient territory of Budapest in the newly formed Austria-Hungarian dynasty was a city enjoying economic growth, and the promise of a prosperous future. Though born into a working class family, it was a favorable period in an auspicious land. All of that changed however, with a single bullet. A bullet that killed the Archduke of Austria-Hungary and led to the beginning of a world wide war.

Relative prosperity, but it was not the land of milk and honey, and Janos was not born with the proverbial silver spoon in his mouth. In fact, the spoon Janos had, was a hand-me-down and oddly misshapen. Much like most of what he had in his early life. The fourth born son, the fifth of seven children, he was, even in his early years, the quietest in the group, but always one which his mother and older sisters would dote on. Only his brothers seemed to see his twisted humor, or to appreciate it. So much like his father, his mother would often say... her voice scornful, but her eyes wistful. His father had died when Janos was barely seven.

Jákob Bartol, a prolific family man, was also a prolific womanizer. While he loved his wife, Csilla, he also loved, or at least desired, many other women. It was this habit of his that cost him his life, left his Csilla without a husband, and his children without a father. No doubt, with his running around there were other children as well, but Janos never knew about that. In fact, he was ten or so when he learned that his father had been shot in the arms of another woman when her husband discovered them and gave the both of them a shot through with a shotgun. The revelation had got him into a vicious fight with the boys that teased him over it, but the news was confirmed by his older brothers who already knew.

Father or not, their lives continued. The Bartol clan always looked out for each other. They worked hard, they played hard, and in most every way, Janos was indeed, just like his father. Not that his brothers were much tamer. Their's was after all, a patriarchal society, and boys will be boys. Their mother and sisters cared for the boys, and the boys made sure the girls were cared for as well. Prospective husband's were tested and the girls were only given up to marriage when their brother's allowed it. Eventually the Bartol boys, now men, began to take wives as well, even settling down to a certain degree. Not so Janos. Though he did find himself married when he was not yet even twenty, to a lovely girl he'd played with who found herself with a swollen belly. He'd never denied it. In fact, Janos was eager and and anxious for the birth of the child he knew was his. He liked the girl well enough, or at least, was confident theirs would be a fine marriage. So long as she never sought to change him. She was pretty, one of the prettiest in their neighborhood, and she adored Janos. Plus, she was a good cook and damn fine fuck. What more could a man want in a wife?

As was the custom for those just beginning their newly married lives, Janos brought his wife home to live with his family. Few in those days could manage to make a home for themselves. When the great war came, all but Janos' two sisters and the oldest brother (Useless due to a lame hand ruined in a factory accident), were sent off to fight. Janos' young bride Ilsa, was then pregnant with his child. In all, four Bartal men were sent to war. Before it was ended, three were dead. Four, if you count the one left undead.

The night of his change fell in the midst of a particularly heavy battle. Bunkered down in a shallow makeshift foxhole, the sounds of battle heavy even in the darkness, Janos rose up to take aim once more on his enemies only to be knocked back by an unseen force. He fell unconscious, and when he came to, it was to a savage kind of carnage falling on his bunkermates. It was their screams that had woken him, and Janos, against his own instinct for survival, leapt into the fray rather than scrambling out of the hole. The creature, a vampire as he soon learned, laughed, finding Janos' "heroics" charming, if not utterly amusing. Amusing enough, that rather than tear his life completely away, he offered Janos another, one of complete darkness. Seeing no other option, the young soldier accepted. And thus began his life undead.

For months he stayed in the company of his sire, all but forgetting his past life. But he couldn't forget completely, and eventually returned, only to find a wife who was terrified of him and a daughter who cried in his arms. In anger he left, but he returned often after that, in the dead of night, with money, food, and gifts. A custom he continued for many years, until all memory of them had been wiped away.

Eventually he and his sire parted ways and Janos found his way across the ocean to America. There is no anger for his lost life, only acceptance, and appreciation for an eternal youth. He lives life rough, one day at a time, doing whatever odd job is needed to occupy his time or give him money to send his family. Hits, selling drugs, doing drugs, intimidation, whatever. Several decades ago he became acquainted with a man named Laurence. He never called him that, only Paper Boy, just as Janos was called Gunther. These were names for dealers, street hustlers, men who made money off of other's bad habits. The Paper Boy wanted more, always so ambitious, and built a name and reputation, as well as a small family. Janos was there as much as he was not, and as the girl grew, he was there even more, a bitterness growing inside that the other had a child he cared so little for. As she grew, he began to see her as his own. Rose, stubborn little thing, wanted only what she could not have, while denying herself constantly what she could have.

Rose. He cared for her as a promise. He never quite understood why he made it, likely because he understood the sanctity of family, the preciousness of a child. Her witch mother knew Janos, wicked vampire that he was, had a weakness, a weakness she easily exploited... out of necessity, and desperation. Had not all of Sioban's magic been stolen away, stifled by wards, Janos would have suspected she'd used her magical persuasion. But no, she simply saw in him, beneath his wicked exterior, what even he had never seen.

Her hope in him had been misplaced however, or at least, it had been far from enough. In the end, all that had happened, was that he had managed to keep her safe, or steal her away, a handful of times. He had protected her from her true father, for some time. And he'd managed to become completely wrapped up in her. In the end however, she was captured, he was captured, and both lives were wasted. His would have been ended had his captor not seen potential in him and thought him an ideal candidate for some testing of experimental toxins to be used against supernaturals. Several were tried with certain successes and failures. Eventually he was released, not quite the same man he once was. In fact, not the same man at all.

According to all his papers, his name was Jonás Bernard from the Slovak Republic. For ten years he lived by that name, believed in it, though never had he been able to discern more. For a man, he knew, even a vampire, was more than a name. Where was his past? Where had he came from? When had he been turned? So many questions, and the answers were few, and far between, mostly coming in dreams, when he could remember them, when he could sleep at all.

Roses. Always roses. A scent, the beauty, a feeling, and then a face. Yes, the memories came back, and he began to search. The outlook was bleak, the clues led nowhere, and still he searched. And there were other memories. A baby; his own. Now a child, now a woman grown old. And there were more babies, not his, but still his own. He knew the meaning… his family had grown, and he had missed so much. For decades he swung from one extreme to the other: Searching relentlessly, without respite, till weary, he’d drop out of his own mind and give himself over to everything carnal.

During one such incessant slog, as he tracked a particularly bothersome wolf, a supposed good lead, he witnessed the beast’s attack of a human. That the human was female was what made the difference for Janos. Hell, a human was a human was a human, right? But Janos had a weakness for women. And not just the weakness of the loins. No, he had a true soft spot, especially for a female in danger. He contemplated just letting the savage has his play, after all, he didn’t want to lose his lead, but her vulnerability tore at Janos, who quickly jumped in to chase the wolf away. The damage though, was beyond repair. She bled out quickly. Dying, or near to it, in his arms. Without thought of the consequences, Janos’ actions were near instinctual. He fed his own blood to her to replace what she’d lost, to heal her wounds, knowing full well what the result would be, but doing it anyway.

After it was done, with daylight threatening, he left her in the darkest corner of her studio garage, pausing a little too long to appreciate her work, and then fled, needing desperately to feed, to stay ahead of the sun, and to find his way back onto the wolf’s trail. That of course, turned into another dead end. But everything in the world seems to go in circles, and the circle back to the one he had sired, was shorter than most (though that’s certainly relative). It was almost without realizing it that he found himself so near to his young sireling. It was her thoughts, invading his own, and with such clarity! that alerted him to her nearness. Finding her very much alone, and confused, and afraid. But he couldn’t keep her! No, there just was no room in his world for this. Anyway, he reasoned, he was a terrible babysitter, and an even worse teacher. He brushed her off, cleaned her up, explained a few things to her, sans the part about him being her sire, and dropped her off with a very nice family he was associated with… on the other side of the country.

By that time though, he had developed a very nice, very convenient, ability to fly.

Powers/abilities:
-Enhanced speed, strength, healing, agility and senses
-Can glamour humans
-Can fly
-Can talk to other vampires they have sired telepathically.

Skills:
Military training learned as a mortal and continued. He can fight with guns and knives, preferring the blades for their silence and slower letting of blood. They can more easily be controlled. Can pick old fashioned locks. Is a decent singer and artist. First language is Hungarian, but speaks English fluently, and is very strong in French, German, Italian, Romanian, and most western and southern Slavic dialects.

Species-related strengths/weaknesses:
-Immunity to human illnesses and weaknesses.
-Unable to stand sunlight; charms can be created to aid with the burn of sunlight but these are temporary solutions. There is no cure to a vampire’s weakness to sunlight.
-Hurt by silver
-Needs blood to survive. At least three times a month, but that’s pushing the limits.
-Can be killed by decapitation or removal/damage to the heart.

Possible Story lines:
His descendents
Others he may have sired

Player Information
Alias: Linda
Timezone: Central
Other characters played in game: Ciara