Dravos Dante Black WIP

by **Colebear**Wed 23 Dec 2020 - 6:26

Birth Name: Dravos Dante Black
Known As: Sin

Immortal Race: Demi Angel Vampire
Human Lineage: Hebrew by deliverance; English by way of life.

House Name: Black
Sire: None

Birth Date: Not necessary, appears to be the mid-thirties.

Orientation: Dravos does not appear to have sexual desires

Lineage: Long deemed unimportant

Personality:
Chaotic Neutral characters are interested in fulfilling their desires, and in pursuing their own interests. They have little to no respect for law and order, at best accepting it as a necessary evil that furthers these ends, at worst to the point they are prepared to commit acts that are immoral or outright criminal, avoiding a Neutral or Chaotic Evil alignment due to simply not being ruthless or malevolent enough. They are not evil because their desires are not especially evil (or they have too much of a conscience), but neither are they altruistic enough to be considered good, and they may hold both either in disdain or with indifference, feeling that to each their own, though most know better than to hang out with especially wicked types. At best, they are kind to friends, family or strangers if only because they find such behaviour personally satisfying; at worst, they are Jerkasses who don't give a damn about anyone but themselves and are indifferent or blind to the rights of others.

Dravos is deceptive and cunning. His quiet nature allows him to fruitfully acquire knowledge and friendships with ease. However, he will do whatever it takes to reach the top tier and get what he ultimately wants.
In truth, not many people know much about Dravos. No one ever gets close enough to learn about him, and those that do are often mislead.

Appearance:
Height: 6'8"
Weight: 184.7 lbs.
Eye color: Glacial blue
Scent: Dravos' Angelic blood manipulates the magic around him to make other beings smell their favourite scent
Body Type: Athletic muscular
Hair: Black and almost always shaved.
Clothes: Changes to suit the times; however, no matter what clothes he wears, Dravos always seems to carry and wear a thick black woollen cloak.
Tattoos/ markings: Dravos has no tattoos. His body is covered with numerous scars, most notably silver bite marks over his torso and one that keeps residence upon his right cheek.

---POWERS---

Dravos has no notable powers.

---ABILITIES---

Enhanced Physiology

Dravos possesses' the enhanced physicalities of his immortal lineage.

Immortality.
Sleeplessness.
Enhanced speed.
Enhanced reflexes.
Enhanced durability.
Enhanced endurance.
Enhanced strength.
Enhanced stamina.
Enhanced stealth.
Enhanced agility.
Enhanced smell.
Enhanced sight.
Enhanced regenerative healing factor.

---ADDITIONAL INFORMATION---

Inventory
The blade of divination.
Known by the name "Stella Maris", the sword is kept on him at all times, concealed in plain sight.

On his martial finger, Dravos wears a seemingly mundane slver ring that harbors an enchanted secret.

---HISTORY---

Under the burnt sands and scorched buildings of Jerusalem, Isreal, 1801, scores of vampires come from around the world to council under the borne city of Jesus Christ, failed saviour of the human race. They are at the peak of their existence. No longer would they have to hide, for now they live under the rule of their own kind upon the throne. Humans fear them and lycans slave for them. It was not to last; God has dispersed his angels unto the world with the order to pass their seed into the wombs of maidens. Untainted, the wombs will birth infants, half angel, half human to live amongst men in the hopes to rid the world of tainted blood.

The beginning.

A woman of twenty and two is placed upon her bed as a nurse tends to her. Lifting up her bedgown, the nurse runs a soft hand deftly over the woman's swollen abdomen. She is fat with child; and how? She insists to be but a maiden. Her flower not yet taken to seed. Time and time again she had fought with her mother about the treason she had brought to her family. Bedding a man unwed was a sin and well known. She had been beaten by her father and threatened by her mother, but still, she would not cleanse herself.
"I was visited by The Angel Gabriel." She would say only to receive a missing tooth and an order to pray. So she would.
The night of birth was thick with cloud and a small town just outside of Jerusalem was hammered with rain. Puddles watered the dry streets and for once the dust was swept from breath. Dogs kept shelter under benches and people retreated to their homes. God unleashed his anger to the skies throwing golden bolts of light across the blackened clouds and bellowing his drum to the sound of war.
The woman screamed in agony as another thunderous pain ripped through her tempered body. A dark-haired wet nurse dipped a cloth into cold water and wiped it across her heated brow, cleaning the sweat before it stung her eyes again.
Hours passed and time had only made things worse. She had been warned of childbirth but had not dreamed it to be like this. The longer she lay, the more frequently the foetus punished her; the larger she was spread, ripping her body in half.
A blanket was erected at the window in a bid to keep the weather at bay; but the wind fought hard, it's screams protested in unison until at last the thick blankets came free and the storm raged and billowed inside, concealing a man as he swung in.
With skin was so white it was transparent, black veins lay visibly dormant under his flesh. Within the blink of an eye, he was upon her. Screams were drowned in gargles as the man clamped his mouth around the woman's neck with such speed that the wet nurse had remained unnoticing until he was feasting. Venom withdrew from his fangs and passed into the young woman encasing every inch of her in mere seconds, passing through to the unborn child inside of her while they were still connected by flesh.
A wet cloth slapped on the floor when the nurse leapt to her feet and abandoned her cause, but she was swept from the ground and thrown like a doll into the drawers.
An ear-shattering rip filled the room moments before blood spattered the walls. Licking his lips, the vampire stepped backwards to watch as the woman upon the bed fell limp. Cloth seethed softly on his pants as the male walked toward the end of the bed; a bony finger trailed the sheets, hard and frail and that of a peasants worth. Would that the angels choose more worthy women. When at the end of the bed, the pale-skinned demon leaned over the woman's limp legs, placing a slimy bloodied hand on each; he looked at the child that lay before him. The infant boy lay still and silent; uncrying as he stared back at the vampire with a mirrored blue gaze. Slim white fingers wrapped around the infant's arms and it was hoisted into the air "Dravos." He was called.

Prophet.

London, England; 1899. The Royal Vampire Coven, Black, rules 98 years unwavering. Humans bow to their feet and stand as a constant food source, harvested for their blood. Kept in close quarters they are treated as dogs to play games with sword and shield. The Lycan population has been reduced to the sewers, long forgotten and building their strength in a hope to reclaim the earth and throne alike; but the angels remain unseen upon the earth. Only a handful captured, tortured and then finally, killed. The vampires will not admit, but they are frightened; the end is nigh. It is foreseen, the royal family will fall at the hand of their own, donned with a blade thin as glass but hard as a diamond that shone like the sun.

The reaping.

The blade spoke to the cloth that took away the black blood, whispering for more.
Dravos watched the sharpness gleam as it drank from the flickering candlelight. Dancing shadows cast upon the blade all but seemed to vanish when they touched it. A gold chain hung loosely around a thick neck, swinging mindlessly back and forth from prior movements. On it, a simple golden cross inlaid with a small hole in each of the fingers that broke the centre; fools treasure he had once thought. The male remained unmoved upon the sound of steps interrupting his silence, only to conclude that A man should not wear heels.
Louder, they grew; and then as if fallen from the face of the planet, they stopped and a slight of wind took their place.
"Dravos, what have you done?"
It was answered with the swish of a black cloak as Dravos raised to stand. He cradled the sword in his hand, chiding the sharpness with his bare finger. The dark skin parted but no blood seeped through the new wound; would that he was alive.
The intruder took a step forward and Dravos raised his gaze from under the shelter of a woollen cloak to meet him with a look that could cut stone. For a moment, the golden cross caught the dim light but shone deeply as if it had snatched the sun, casting an eerie glow across 6 dead vampires, revealing for the first time since he had 'redecorated', the stains of Black blood slain across each of the four walls.
Dravos could see the man grit his teeth, concealed tightly beneath dead lips; "You bent the knee?" He threw the accusation at him, noting the cross; as if he had not seen his fallen brethren.
"I learned the truth." Dravos dropped the blade from his grasp and took up the hilt in both palms before the glass blade could touch the floor. The leather material was soft beneath his skin, well breathed and brilliantly crafted. The blade was delicately balanced with its hilt creating an easy hold to join the weapon to his arm as if it were apart of him.
Ezekiel shot a glance to the sword and Dravos saw, through the blink of an eye, the fear in his blue gaze. "You create sin here, in your own covenant. I did not raise you to a kinslayer."
"No, instead you fed me lies." He took a step towards the man. His feet were bare and spoke not to the ground beneath them. He was silent as a shadow.
"I created you!" Ezekiel spat, words turning to uncontrollable speech vomit in the fear of his upcoming demise.
"You destroyed me." Dravos corrected.
"I raised you better than my own son."
He was pleading, Dravos realized. Perhaps it was the slight of emotion Dravos was showing, the lesser of thought he was portraying or maybe the silence in which he looked at him with that scared Ezekiel most; whatever it was Dravos could not help but feel a pity for the Vampire.
"Then I pray the devil keeps you in good company," Dravos told him. Light bounced off the walls in a horizontal arc and in the breath of a sigh, Dravos had swept the room and ascended the stairs to reappear behind his creator with bent knees, a hand placed upon the floor for support and sword hoisted to rest upon his shoulder.
An onlooker might have thought it a miss as Ezekiel spun on his heels to meet Dravos' back with words in his mouth; but the movement sparked his body to split, showing a perfect line where the blade had bit into his neck. His head dropped to the floor and bounced to a still moments before the deft thud of his lifeless body sent a plume of dust aloof.