[hider=Your age is past. We are the new gods, born of flesh, and wise and caring of the needs of our people.][CENTER][h1][COLOR=Silver][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/230112/5eeb9c99103db412cfe65ffbbe9024d6.png[/img][/COLOR][/h1][/CENTER] [table][row][/row][row][cell][IMG]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/a8de618c-20ae-45c2-989c-7cdb9b6d945d.png[/IMG] [CENTER][SUP]________________________________________[/SUP][/CENTER][CENTER][COLOR=FFFFFF][b][color=a366ff]Quintus "Quinn" Contarini[/color] [/b][/COLOR] [color=a366ff] Male [/COLOR] | [color=a366ff] 21 [/COLOR] | [color=a366ff] Nühl [/COLOR][/CENTER][CENTER][SUP]_______________________________________________[/SUP] [color=a366ff][i]"It's up there! Oh, sorry; my up, not yours."[/i][/color] [SUP]________________________________________[/SUP] [img]https://media.tenor.com/BBegXa6wBhkAAAAC/animes-stars.gif[/img][/CENTER] [b][color=a366ff]Likes[/color][/b] [list][*]Praise [*]That initial headrush after fangs pierce his neck [*]Stupid fidget toys [*][s]Tax fraud[/s][/list] [b][color=a366ff]Dislikes[/color][/b] [list][*]Making important decisions on his own [*]The Revel [*]Dirt [*]Slow people; hurry up [*]People saying he has 80 HD - he's not a TV[/list] [b][color=a366ff]Habits[/color][/b] [list][*]Sometimes makes small objects float to amuse himself when he gets distracted. [*]Has a tendency to squirm when trying to sit still or stand at attention. He thinks no one notices.[/list] [b][color=a366ff]Misc.[/color][/b] [list][*]He believes his focus is a stylized metal brooch in the shape of a crescent moon, though, in truth, it's just a trinket that he has no need of to cast. [*]Quinn is quick to offer his blood to rebel vampires, both because he considers it his most important duty as a mage and because he enjoys the afterglow of feeding more than he probably should. [*]He grows noticeably more fidgety when he's overdone it on the blood donations.[/list] [b][color=a366ff]Theme[/color][/b] [indent][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LKsgDcckur0]I know I'll always be less than zero You tried your best with me, I know I couldn't face you with my darkest truth of all Cause I can't get it out of my head No, I can't shake this feeling that crawls in my bed I try to hide it, but I know you know me I try to fight it, but I'd rather be free[/url][/indent] [/cell][cell] [center][h3][i][color=a366ff]"Whether it be vampires or mortals, we are always beholden to those that stand above us."[/color][/i][/h3][/center] [b][color=a366ff]Appearance[/color][/b] [color=FFFFFF][indent]Years of nocturnal living have given Quinn a delicate pallor, one that would befit a creature of the night more than a living mortal were it not so easy to flush him red in embarrassment. His formerly black locks have been recently re-dyed a soft lavender, a recollection of his tandem debut alongside his cousin years prior, where they were both adorned fully in opposite Marivaldi colors. He has a slim build, tailored in equal parts for physical endurance and effete beauty. Despite the squalid living conditions he now finds himself in, Quinn does his best to maintain the clean and polished appearance previously expected of him as a noble's mage.[/indent][/color] [b][color=a366ff]Personality[/color][/b] [indent]Quinn maintains the veneer of a well-mannered and eager mage, superficially acting with great formality and poise toward others and his work. A closer examination reveals him for what he really is; a fidgety and impatient boy who throws himself into whatever orders he's given to prevent himself from going stir-crazy for want of an objective. He was never the type to stop and smell the roses, especially when there are still so many roses left to sniff; dwelling on something leaves room for distraction and distraction leads to subpar results. Quinn is constantly chasing praise, a desire to please ingrained in him from a lifetime of vampiric servitude. Despite this, he's easily flustered by the reward he so seeks, and often excuses himself to his next venture promptly after a job well done to spare himself further embarrassment. The one instance where he slows his pace is when he's fed upon, where the induced euphoria overrides his innate drive to [i]go, go, go[/i] and he permits himself a moment of blissful indulgence. The rumor that he 'gets off to it' is markedly false, though an onlooker might have a hard time believing it if they caught him in the act. As such, he holds no lofty goals of rebellion or fervent desire to cast off his chains. Quinn is a rebel because the alternative is death, and were a system of equitable service to be reinstated, he would throw himself at the mercy of a new vampire in an instant. He holds a wistful view of the old regime, half-remembered from his childhood, and while Princess Ryner would be worthy of his loyalty in spite of her treachery to the crown, the mage-led farce that has cropped up in her wake is little more than a means to an end for the boy that he can only hope will make the right choice in the end.[/indent] [b][color=a366ff]Bio[/color][/b] [indent]Quinn was born the second of three children to Bartolomeo Marivaldi's treasured Contarini line of mages. The Count exclusively used the Contarini family to sire new vampires in memory of a mage he'd engaged in a brief (by vampiric standards) love affair with some centuries past and, given no female had been born this generation to either Quinn's mother or his aunt, all of the children were appraised critically for their use as breeding stock, to ensure any daughters that were subsequently born would both resemble Bartolomeo's lost fling and produce mages of excellent pedigree besides. The children quickly became embroiled in an unofficial competition of sorts to impress the Count, though Quinn's standing in the 'race' was tenuous from the first; he was an unruly child, albeit harmlessly inattentive rather than truly difficult, and neglected his studies often. Coupled with his status as a middle child, Quinn was written off by his family and master and more or less ignored comparative to his siblings and cousin, and any attempts to act out for attention were quickly stifled by harsh punishments. He received a lucky break around age thirteen when his previously favored cousin presented a mild case of nearsightedness - such a pesky trait to breed out of a bloodline once introduced - and Quinn, having grown less rambunctious as he aged, received a taste of his family's favor as he was evidently promoted from last place. Now exposed properly to what he was missing, Quinn spent the rest of his teens chasing a spot as an ideal mage of the household, crafting himself as best he can into something that would enter him into his lord's good graces. By the time of his Awakening, he was a strong contender, but Quinn was soon stymied through no fault of his own this time - he presented a weak affinity. Worse, experimentation suggested that his affinity wasn't either of the ones that his family usually harnessed. Once again, he'd been demoted in his family's graces, with all eyes now moving to his little brother in anticipation of his upcoming Awakening. He received a pittance of curiosity when he managed to make objects levitate, sending the household into a brief frenzy as they ruled out earth and metal magic based on the variety of things he could repeat the trick on. They briefly toyed with the idea that he was some kind of unforeseen anomaly that harnessed telekinesis and perhaps even further mental magic naturally, especially since Quinn seemed to function without a focus, though the family eventually settled on the opinion that he was a gravity mage that had simply managed to avoid any dissonant symptoms through sheer luck up until then. And from then on, Quinn was a gravity mage. Bartolomeo found the affinity useful in manual labor and certainly considered the boy to have the requisite physical qualities he valued in a mage, namely resembling Quinn's ancestor, but the weak affinity was troublesome and diluting the magic of his favored line simply would not do. That was until the Count sampled Quinn's blood for the first time. It was exquisite, quite possibly the best he'd ever tasted. From then on, Bartolomeo regarded him as a prized piece of his collection, and sought to hone the boy as best he could, even with his flawed magic - he'd progenate a useful secondary line, perhaps exclusively for feeding. Quinn, surprisingly, took to arcane magic swimmingly despite his earlier difficulties with scholarly activities, and he was shaping up to be quite the show mage in short order. Of course, he mostly served as the dessert course whenever the Count threw his lavish parties, but Quinn found pleasure in the act all the same. He was happy to serve, happy to be [i]recognized[/i]. After nearly two years of faithful service, Bartolomeo's interest in Quinn as anything more than a bloodbag had waned and, as an act of good faith, passed the boy over to his son, Alfonso, who had recently come of age. Where Bartolomeo had considered Quinn a rich and luxurious delicacy, meant to be savored only on special occasions so as to make said rare indulgences all the better, Alfonso, a careless hedonist at heart, had yet to develop the patience born of centuries of unlife, and satiated himself on Quinn almost exclusively and in far greater quantities than necessary for sustenance. The boy was still happy to be of service, though every further repeal of prior mage treatment laws seemed only to embolden his new master to reach new heights of indulgence, and mitigating anemic symptoms quickly became part of his daily life. The issue came to a head during the Revel of 530, where Quinn was the object of enough 'revelry' to wake up in the hospital days later, recovering from near-exsanguination and the mental scars of half-remembered indignities inflicted upon him during the event. To his master's consternation and Quinn's guilty relief, the life-saving blood transfusion he'd been given had soured his precious blood for the time being, leaving his liege to subsist on lower-quality meals while he recovered. Alfonso was not pleased, taking out his frustration on the boy as if the incident had been his fault. It seemed the vampire had learned nothing from the experience either, and once Quinn's blood had returned to its natural flavor, he resumed his excessive feeding regimen. When Alfonso began making plans to freeze Quinn's sperm 'just in case', the boy realized there was a distinct possibility he may be drained entirely. Before, his master had to at least keep him alive to retain access to his cherished blood, but now it seemed he wanted to supplement his prized bottle of wine with an extra six pack before it ran dry. Alfonso, careless as he was, parked Quinn in the front seat of an expensive car and sent him off to the storage facility alone one morning. Somewhere between leaving the estate and arriving at his destination, something snapped in his head. His neck hadn't been free of bruises in months. He spent most of his time after his master's dinner fighting off lightheadedness. His body felt like it would vibrate out of his skin every time he paused at a stop light but he was still so, so [i]tired[/i]. So Quinn simply pulled over, stepped out of the car, and walked away. The vehicle accelerated off the road and into a tree at 9.8 meters per second[sup]2[/sup] and a quick color-changing spell had a vaguely Quinn-looking boy innocently boarding a bus. He was an idiot, not thinking straight from blood loss, clearly. He had no destination and only one option - treasonous upstarts who would try to thrust freedom on him when he only desired safety. The regret was immediate, but the die had been cast all the same.[/indent] [/cell][/row][/table][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/230112/2d4f052fa3c768d92404f08d2fedbf0f.png[/img][/hider] [hider=Red bloometh the rose of conquest][CENTER][h1][COLOR=Silver][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/230118/2993194f811139bf8ecabba11b2f6d69.png[/img][/COLOR][/h1][/CENTER] [table][row][/row][row][cell][IMG]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/b079d777-56d8-4a1b-9a3b-a6c4d5e48e6e.jpg[/IMG] [CENTER][SUP]________________________________________[/SUP][/CENTER][CENTER][COLOR=FFFFFF][b][color=00cc66]Chadwick Astorio[/color] [/b][/COLOR] [color=00cc66] Male [/COLOR] | [color=00cc66] 253 [/COLOR] | [color=00cc66] Astorio [/COLOR][/CENTER][CENTER][SUP]_______________________________________________[/SUP] [color=00cc66][i]"A thrust is elegant, a cut is powerful, but sometimes the best move is a headbutt."[/i][/color] [SUP]________________________________________[/SUP] [img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/c00bb5bc-8ec8-4449-8da4-a469789b5492.jpg[/img][/CENTER] [b][color=00cc66]Likes[/color][/b] [list][*]Owlry [*]The lamentations of a defeated opponent [*]Contests of wit, surprisingly [*]Crafting mages into warriors[/list] [b][color=00cc66]Dislikes[/color][/b] [list][*]People with that prey look in their eyes [*]Cowards [*]Anyone who makes threats of a non-physical variety[/list] [b][color=00cc66]Habits[/color][/b] [list][*]Puts his hand to his chin when someone gets in his face, as if in thought. He's waiting for a punch. [*]Comments wrongly on the flavor profile of any blood he samples, purely to get a rise out of any nearby enthusiasts.[/list] [b][color=00cc66]Misc.[/color][/b] [list][*]Chad is always up for a spar, even against opponents that vastly outclass him, as he sees refusal of such an invitation without an acceptable excuse to be a sign of weakness. [*]He's formally trained in most weapons used in conventional warfare, as expected of an Astorio, though he's partial to the longsword. [*]He keeps a pet owl, mostly delegated to the care of one of his still-loyal mages, though he occasionally sends it out to hunt when he can spare the time.[/list] [b][color=00cc66]Theme[/color][/b] [indent][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CXRxRTW6nXg]I don’t know the season or what is the reason I’m standing here holding my blade A desolate place without any trace It’s only the cold wind I feel It’s me that I spite as I stand up and fight The only thing I know for real There will be bloodshed The man in the mirror nods his head The only one left Will ride upon the dragon’s back[/url][/indent] [/cell][cell] [center][h3][i][color=00cc66]"The Sinnenodels believe that physical training and discipline are unnecessary. With mages, media, and the mental resources to direct them, muscular strength and agility are thought to be merely conceits. They are wrong."[/color][/i][/h3][/center] [b][color=00cc66]Appearance[/color][/b] [color=FFFFFF][indent]Chadwick is a 6'2" column of sinewy muscle that clings tightly to his frame, with a broad torso and long limbs whose lankiness belies their supernatural dexterity. Though he lacks the sheer burliness of many among his bloodline, he is no less imposing. Observers often note - with a tinge of wariness in their voice - that he looks much bigger in person than he does on television. His hair is a dull gray, having lost its pigment early into his unlife, and he refuses to dye it in pursuit of vanity. In contrast, his eyes are far more vibrant, a brilliant cyan that doesn't quite suit the icy gaze they often hold.[/indent][/color] [b][color=00cc66]Personality[/color][/b] [indent]Ruthlessly charismatic and charismatically ruthless, Count Chadwick Astorio is the last person one would believe had defected to the rebellion. A true Astorio at heart, he believes a vampire's status should rest solely on their personal combat prowess and cares little for the petty politicking of his peers. A vampire is a hunter, the apex predator of the night; coddled weaklings who hide behind blackmail and backroom deals are an embarrassment to their kind, and those that entrust their own defense solely to mages are masters of nothing - naive fools that would find themselves woefully unprepared should their prized pets ever call their bluff. After all, the only thing an immortal stands to truly lose is their life. Chad carries himself with a cocky nonchalance outside the realm of combat, unconcerned as he is with mundane matters beyond the battlefield. However, one should be careful not to underestimate him as an inelegant brute like many among his bloodline; despite this seeming indifference, he possesses an antagonistic cunning, using it to goad and unsettle his foes rather than charm the cameras or his peers. Every witty remark, every cutting jab, all are merely invitations to cross blades with him, where status and resources melt away and only one warrior remains in the end. That isn't to say he isn't resourceful; Chad prefers to keep a number of mages on hand of a more subtle variety, solely for digging into his potential opponents and uncovering their weaknesses. If he had his way, every duel he fought would be won before he ever drew his sword. In the midst of conflict, he's a marginally different beast; an edge of intensity and aggression comes out, though the graceful confidence remains. A victory isn't as sweet if one doesn't look good while achieving it, of course. Beyond this simple utility and their status as a superior food source, Chadwick sees mages little differently than the rest of their mortal ilk. They are certainly the most powerful warriors of humanity, a feat worthy of respect, but a foe who can be bested simply by waiting a few decades is hardly what Chad considers capable of rivaling a vampire. Nevertheless, he considers his own mages an interesting diversion to pass the time. None in his house would suffer a weak-willed mage, but short-lived as their physical prime is, they present a sort of challenge to see what heights he can cultivate in them. And of course, a challenge to inspire new heights in his own skills, as Chad takes them as healthy competition to keep his skills honed.[/indent] [b][color=00cc66]Bio[/color][/b] [indent]The first century or so of Chadwick's life was fairly typical of an Astorio fledgeling, and thus, unremarkable. He trained, he fought, he conquered. His older brother held much of his sire's attention and subsequently familial responsibilities, and thus Chad was left much to his own devices outside of his family's training regimen. Free from the imposition of courtly politics and territorial management, he whiled away the first century of his life in idle leisure - or what passes for it in an Astorio household, violent as they are - taking up sport dueling as a means to entertain himself. He grew tired of sparring with the same few opponents, and rather than wait the agonizing years it would take to raise a new generation of mages to vary the selection a little, Chad opted to throw himself to the wider world in search of a challenge. Though Chad did not seek it, the act earned instant approval from his sire. Raising a strong contender in the arenas would doubtlessly improve his own standing, and thus he excused Chadwick from most of his remaining household duties so long as his career continued, to allow the young vampire time to solely focus on honing himself. And hone himself he did; Chad gained public renown in his twelfth decade when he achieved an upset victory against Count Damien Eve, a vampire over a century his senior with skills to match, in a risky maneuver that cost Chad an arm and Damien his heart. Now thrust into a spotlight, it was then that he first began to play the game. The fame didn't particularly interest him, nor did the machinations of his peers that he was now privy to with his newfound connections, but he didn't ignore the whispers in his ears as he pretended to. There was no point in souring a business deal for someone he marginally disliked, no reason to sabotage his rivals if he only stood to gain things he never wanted in the first place. Petty fun, perhaps, but there were easier ways to achieve that. Still, information was a weapon, and it always paid to be armed. So Chadwick flitted about the edges of high society, occupying his time at classy events by incensing some limp-dick count or chickenshit duke in hopes they'd come to blows, all the while keeping an ear out for anything of use. His competitors had weaknesses and all it took was someone to slip one of their pesky little habits - a minor tidbit of information compared to the grandiosity of Count So-And-So's big move on Count What's-His-Name's holdings in the metallurgy industry, and thus easily thrown out by the rubes who didn't understand Chad's game. Dismantling an opponent before they ever stepped into the ring became his pastime, riling them up beforehand until their frustration led them to make the mistakes he expected. The act was almost more fun than the duel itself, and Chad expanded his brand into the TCL just to get more of it. As expected of an Astorio household, Chad expected nothing less than ruthless combat efficiency in his mages, and providing them an outlet to show it off was met with minimal protest. There he coached his little pets for three whole generations, dissecting the opposition and passing his conclusions to his mages for them to exploit at their leisure. Unfortunately, the onset of the war put an end to his fun, as his brother requested Chad's presence in a grander game. His territory had become a key engagement zone against Dawn Rising early on, and the count found the strategems devised centuries ago in some doddering Astorio's theorizing that he had based his initial defense on didn't hold up to the reality of modern mage-on-mage warfare, and so he called on Chadwick for reinforcements. As he took to the field, the flaws in his brother's command quickly became apparent. Outdated tactics were a flaw that could be easily corrected, major information leaks and saboteurs were not. Chad's brother had never been one to be lax on his mages, but he'd cracked down especially hard after one of them had expressed some minor interest in Ryner's revolutionary drivel. And as beaten dogs often do, his pets grew vicious. Fear kept them in line for now, but defections were not uncommon and as much fun as it was to gorge himself on the first few traitors, Chad felt his time was better spent attacking the enemy ship rather than plugging holes in his own. So, when one of his brother's especially bold mages plotted an assassination, Chad pretended to be none the wiser. After his brother had been reduced to ash and the offending mage found herself suddenly missing a good chunk of her ribcage, Chad tossed her body aside and assumed fealty over his brother's holdings. There was a short period of cleaning house - he considered himself much better at maintaining morale than his late brother, but one can't make an omelet without cracking a few skulls, or whatever the mortal idiom was - but afterward Chad found himself in command of an effective piece of the Council's war machine. Naturally, it was all a farce to remain in the midst of the action, but Chad would have his fun while the combat lasted. It was for this reason that the foundation of the Dreaming Court in 524 gave him pause. In the Sinnenodels he saw the death of warfare, that the conflict and all future conflicts would be reduced to the petty scheming of mind mages to undermine each other and end the opposition without a single sword ever being swung. Lord Pieron's departure from the conflict after Ryner's defeat seemed only to confirm Chad's misgivings - if his progenitor had lost his interest in the war, it would only be a matter of time until his lesser children followed. Chad wouldn't suffer the death of his newfound hobby just so Sybil could throw a few mages more firmly under the yoke and, in a spectacularly unprecedented move, Count Chadwick Astorio emancipated his mages and defected to Dawn Rising. The next few years were spent in violent revelry, with Chad sating his bloodlust while he could as the war wound down. After the loss of Benjamin Eve, he flirted with the idea of returning to the fold, but with things miraculously looking up for the rebels despite their leadership falling to a girl barely half a century old, he's content to wait and observe for now.[/indent] [/cell][/row][/table][/hider] [hider=Chad's Retinue][b][u]In Service[/u][/b] [b]Andrei Zharkov - Ice Mage | 32[/b] [indent]Chad's most senior remaining mage, the TCL's former "Boreal Tempest" now fights on behalf of Dawn Rising. He is stern and aloof, never as much of a crowd pleaser as his sister during their mage fighting career, though such cold focus lends itself well to the realities of warfare. Chad trusts him implicitly to command his remaining mages in his stead and sees him as a sort of "second-in-command".[/indent] [b]Yuri Petrovic - Combustion Mage | 25[/b] [indent]Reckless, skilled, and prone to creating funny soundbites in press conferences, Yuri is everything Chad finds entertaining in a mage. He wouldn't give the boy responsibilities unless it was an absolute last resort, but one needn't employ a sledgehammer for tasks better suited to a scalpel. Yuri exists to make things explode; nothing more, nothing less, and both master and mage seem to be in agreement on this point, even if it does grate upon rebellion higher-ups that find less glamorous tasks assigned to him carelessly shirked.[/indent] [b]Matthew Revay - Cloud Mage | 23[/b] [indent]The son of one of Chad's successful water mages, who he had high hopes for. Instead, he got a quiet, bookish boy with little tenacity and an affinity that failed to catch the vampire's interest. He had intended to sell him off after his mother died in the war, though the vampire's defection soon after left the point rather moot. To Chad's surprise, the boy remained loyal to the turncoat vampire and begged to be taken along wheresoever his master found himself next. Matt now handles whatever menial day-to-day tasks Chad requests of him or cannot be bothered to do himself, including the care of his prized hunting owl.[/indent] [b][u]Emancipated[/u][/b] [b]David Hinrichson - Earth Mage | 35[/b] [indent]A squat, solidly-built man, who looks as though he were carved of the same stone he commands. Nearing the end of his prime, he refused to defect from the Dreaming Court alongside his master and now serves a different vampire.[/indent] [b]Darya Zharkova - Ice Mage | 29[/b] [indent]Refined and welcoming in contrast to her brother's cold demeanor, Andrei's younger sister originally followed Chadwick upon his defection to the rebellion, though caring for her infant child has taken her off the battlefield in search of a quieter life.[/indent] [b]Roy Hadley - Plant Mage | 27[/b] [indent]A promising TCL prospect from a young age, the "Prince of Thorns" remained behind and presented himself to Chad's sire to continue his career rather than throw his life away on the battlefield. A shame, too; Chad really enjoyed his showboating.[/indent] [b]James Brackenmoor - Shadow Mage | 50[/b] [indent]Chad's former chief of staff and one of the few mages in his service not engaged in combat for sport, James was Chad's leading spy in his younger years. Whenever Chad found that he must play the game of vampiric politics, he sent James in his stead and the man delivered. After Chad's defection, the man faked his death with his master's blessing and now presumably intends to live out the rest of his life incognito.[/indent][/hider]