[center][img] http://i60.tinypic.com/s0ztpc.png [/img]

[b]I have seen your tears and heard your prayers. Fear not, these children will not die. [/b][/center]

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[b]Name:[/b] [i] Xeno Romanov [/i]

[b]Age:[/b] [i]47[/i]

[b]Gender:[/b] [i]Male[/i]

[b]Magical Heritage:[/b] [i]Unknown.[/i]

[b]Biography/Personality:[/b] [i]”Your father has cursed me with his filthy seed!” 

A woman screamed from her bed, her sheets soaked with the blood of a new child to come into the world. “You are a disease!” she groaned, pushing, crying in agony as the child made way through the birth canal. She didn’t believe in practical medicine any more than she believed in magic. “Die inside me you demon! Don’t trouble me with your breath, and please don’t trouble me with your life.”

At last, the pressure had stopped. Reaching down a trembling hand she felt the hot flesh of her son; the son who had been given to her by a demented wizard. The same man who had snuck into the life of the young woman through lies and false intentions. The woman’s slender finger tips began to trace along the baby’s soft cheek. It wasn’t long before she began to rise slowly from her position on her back and was hovering over the baby. He had not cried yet. He had not opened his eyes. The woman’s hand’s lowered between her legs, her fingers that once caressed the child now began to wrap around the fragile neck, squeezing, suffocating. She had to make sure the child was dead. 

Eyes of bright silver burst from the closed eye lids of Xeno. He stared with intent, with confusion, and with anger. The mother let out a gasp, “No...It can’t be.” Her fingers began to burn to the touch as she pulled them away from the baby’s neck. She could never kill him now.

Xeno had the upbringing of a man, with no time to play and definitely no time to develop most social skills that other children had. He was strictly homeschooled and taught to trust no one but his mother. “Mother, what is my father’s name?” Xeno would ask often, and his mother would scream in disgust, “You do not have a father. You have me. You came into this world as a cancer to me, growing in my disease ridden body!” She would then proceed to lock him in her bedside trunk for the rest of the day. Often she would sit right beside it and smash her head against it until she bled or fell unconscious. 

When Xeno’s mother fell ill, during his young adult years he spent a lot of time researching things at the library. He wasn’t allowed electronics nor many books, but while his mother rested all day he would sneak away to the library and engulf himself in many different subjects. His favorite research topics included genealogy, witchcraft, and oddly enough- fishing. Xeno was quite confused and scared with the knowledge of the first two subjects, but dug deeper into many realms of both the internet and novels of the fiction and non-fiction type.

“Grigori Yefimovich Rasputin” the young man mouthed the name out loud as he read the article on the internet before him. A sense of unease fluttered into his stomach as he lurched forward in the chair, his mouth filling with the taste of copper as trails of blood flowed from his lips and down his chin. His burly body threw itself back, and suddenly he became conscious of what was happening. He frantically tried to clean up the blood, but it wasn’t real. It was just an illusion, a lit match against the fuel soaked rag that was Xeno’s beginning of his journey.

Delving deeper in the genealogy of the man named Rasputin, Xeno found himself learning that he was a descendent of the Russian peasant, mystic, faith healer and private adviser to the Romanovs- his very own name sake. The woman that would be considered his grandmother was the very own daughter of Tsar Nicholas II; Grand Duchess Tatiana. Through various acts of rape, molestation, and incest- the line had trickled down to the train wreck that was Xeno Romanov. 

Anger fueled Xeno when he approached his mother on the facts that he had discovered in the few years time. “You knew this!” he growled, attacking her physically as he grab and shook the woman. “I know nothing!” the woman pleaded, merely a feather in the grasp of the condor. He pressed her against the kitchen cabinet, his thick fingers wrapped around her neck squeezing as she had done once to him. “No” the woman gasped, clawing at his fingers frantically. It was no use, he was too strong, and she was too weak. 

“Just like when I was born.” 

Her dead body dropped to the floor with a sickening thud. Just like the night Xeno was born; he did not cry. He simply packed up all his personal belongings, and went out to find more answers; first starting at Rasputin’s grave site. Traveling to Russia, Xeno found information of his (multiple) great grandfather’s location of burial. Saddened to find that he was cremated, Xeno took initiative to find the ashes. 

Years of searching high and low he found the information through many underground trading and dirty business deals. He brought the ashes back to his small room home next to the lake. As he sat in the bed holding the urn in his hands he for the first time in his life began to weep, “I am here.” he sobbed. “I am here” he repeated, uncapping the urn and taking out the ashes by the handful. His hand rose to his face as he began to rub the remains of his dead patriarch across his skin, and into his eyes and mouth.

His body convulsions sent him right on to his back as millions of images, scents, feelings, and thoughts filled his head and his memories. He had taken on Rasputin’s soul and powers through the digestion (or so he thought) of the man’s remains. It did not occur to Xeno at the time that he was the descendent of wizards and necromancers, and did not need to ingest anything.

By the time he did realize it, he had acquired quite the lovely taste for the dead.

Gaining his knowledge of the wizard world shone light on many dark areas for Xeno. He learned of wands and Hogwarts. He learned how to generate and use his powers to the fullest. This was heaven on Earth, he finally found somewhere he fit in. How could his mother want to hide this from him? Though Xeno’s mother wasn’t always right, her protection over her son was more than just ignorance; it was a curse given to her by the wizard who had impregnated her over 20 years ago. The curse was that the muggle woman had to hide and protect her child until she passed away from either natural or supernatural causes. It was at the death of the woman, that the curse would continue on in the child, and would live within that person and slowly kill them until they could pass the curse to their child.

Thankfully a muggle woman took the curse from Xeno, and in turn would eventually pass it onto her child. Xeno had no desire to keep a family; just like his father he used the opportunity of a paid one night stand to pass the curse. His plans included more learning of his crafts of the dark arts, necromancy, and the occasional fishing trip to relieve some stress by the lake at his home.

It wasn’t until he learned of his very own grand daughter that his interests became peaked. In a line of strictly men she was the only child of the curse to be born a female. “What would this do to the line?” he questioned, frantically looking through the records he had been keeping. There was no answer in his grasps; he would have to find help within the walls of the prestige Hogwarts for information about the curse. “But how?” he pondered, stroking his beard. He was too old to be a student. He was too untrained to be a teacher. 

He needed eyes and ears on the inside.[/i]

[b]Wand:[/b] [i]A 15 inch Troll Whiskers wand: Blackthorn (Rigid).[/i]

[b]Special Gifts and Abilities:[/b] [i]Necromancy. Dark Magic. Curse of Yefimovich. [/i]