Realistic or Modern Into the Night - applications

[junegloom]

into the night

applications

application info.

full name.
nickname.
age. (24+)
date of birth.
gender.
pronouns.
sexuality.
role.

faceclaim. (realistic only please!)
height.
hair color.
eye color.
distinguishing features.
scars.
modifications. (if applicable)

likes. 4+
dislikes. 4+
strengths. 3+
weaknesses. 3+
fears.

vices. 3+ please explain each one
virtues. 3+ please explain each one.
(or you can write it out in paragraph form if you want!)

background. (2+ paragraphs please or a series of bulletpoints)

questions. (please answer as your character)

How and when did they join the group?

Do they trust everyone in the group?

Do they think they have a chance at taking down the vampires?

roles.

the leader

taken

She is Rob McCartney's only child and has spent her life hunting vampires with him. She has since stepped into her father's place as the group leader. Some may be concerned about her age, but she likely has more experience hunting vampires than anyone else in the group.

the deputy

open

They've been in the group the longest out of anyone, aside from The Leader. They started hunting vampires shortly before vampires took over. They fell into it after being rescued from a vampire attack by Rob and The Leader. Since then, they've worked together and when The Dark happened, they helped form the group to take the world back. They are incredibly loyal and dedicated to the group, but especially to The Leader. They're the one The Leader trusts more than anyone and can make decisions on her behalf if she is unable to. However, to the group, they can certainly be seen as someone a bit too big for their britches.

the medic

open

This group member has some form of medical training and they are there to patch group members up after any scuffle they find themselves in. They are not the most physically competent of the group, but they're one of the most important based on their specialized skill set. They've had to take care of things that would normally be above their skill set, but they manage to keep the group alive and functioning for the most part (even if they have to get a bit creative).

the expert

open

When they began their studies of various myths and the occult, they didn't think some of the subjects they were studying were actually real. However, when the vampires took over, they learned firsthand just how real it was. They are the go-to for historical and technical information related to vampires and the supernatural. They are vital with their knowledge of magic as witches have been gone for centuries, so practical knowledge of magic is limited. Sometimes they are a bit of a know-it-all, insisting on what they know is correct, even if there are indications that it is not.

the fresh blood

open

They're the newest one around. They still have not quite earned everyone's trust yet, but are eager to prove themselves. They may not be the most experienced, but they are the most enthusiastic, which borders on recklessness. They are quick to act and quick to land themselves into trouble. They've needed to be rescued more than once and it is a question if they are an asset to the group or a liability.

the soldier

open

This member had once upon a time been in the military and was completely unaware of vampires. They had rejoined civilian life shortly before The Dark happened. However, once the vampires took over, they knew they had to fight back. For some time, they were working on their own, though they couldn't do much more than pick off individual vampires, which did not make much of a real difference. However, once they came across the group, they knew they had to join. They can be tough and stubborn, but they are quite dedicated to the cause. They tend to have some tunnel vision and are resistant to working with The Defector despite them being deemed trustworthy.

the in-between

open

This person is a complete anomaly and, as far as anybody knows, is singular. After an attack from a vampire, they were turned. Well, they would have been if the turning process had not been interrupted. Now, they exist in a semi-human, semi-vampire state. They are more durable than a human but do not have the same strengths as a vampire. They can supplement drinking blood with human food, but they cannot go completely without blood. Religious or holy objects do not seem to affect them in the same way they affect vampires, allowing them to handle these objects. They've been struggling with their identity since they've been changed, desperate to grasp what remains of their humanity as they still retain their soul.

the defector

open

Nobody knows exactly what caused this vampire to turn on their own kind, except for The Leader. She knows they are trustworthy, but it is taking longer for some of the group members to come around. They are still a vampire, so naturally, their motives are selfish but strong. They've never quite fit within vampire society and they certainly are not human, so they've been a bit of a loner for a while and struggle to deal with group dynamics. Still, they are very set in their choice to take down vampire society and return the world to the way it originally was.

extra information.

Just a few reminders— it is very unlikely any members of the group knew of the existence of vampires before they took over (aside from the Leader and the Deputy). Please make sure your character isn’t too OP, not everyone needs to be an action hero. And please make sure to keep the gender balance relatively even. I don’t want a cast of all women or all men!

The application deadline is November 30th. I will let everyone who is accepted know via private message with the discord link. If you do not hear from me, that means you were not accepted. If you do need an extension, please let me know before the deadline.

If you have any questions feel free to reach out any time!

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[junegloom]

the leader

full name

Phoebe Quinn McCartney

nickname

Phoebs, P, PB, Pea/Peanut (family only)

age

26

d.o.b.

November 6th

gender

Cis Female

Pronouns

She/Her

Sexuality

Bisexual

Role

The Leader

style

height

5’6

hair

Naturally brown, currently bleached

eyes

Hazel

Dist. Features

Full lips, small nose, defined cheekbones

Scars

Various scars from hunting vampires. Most notably, a gash to her right forearm and a long scar on the left side of her ribcage.

Mods

Pierced ears

faceclaim

Sophie Thatcher

Vampires Will Never Hurt You

My Chemical Romance

req.

req.

It's been night for days

✧ Indelicate: Phoebe does not carefully choose her words nor does she even consider them before she says them. Her intention isn't to offend, but she doesn't do much to prevent it. It is likely a byproduct of being on the solitary side in her social life.

✧ Judgmental: Phoebe holds strong opinions and they often form rather quickly. She can be quite critical, though she feels it is necessary for improvement. She is not exempt from her own critiques either.

✧ Tough: To be in charge of a group of people as a young woman has required Phoebe to build an even tougher shell than she had before. She can be uncompromising and even a bit harsh at times, but she feels it is necessary to keep the group running.

---

✧ Resourceful: Phoebe can make things work, even when she's lacking supplies or preparedness. She is a problem-solver and will always find a way around obstacles.

✧ Loyal: For those she cares about or deems trustworthy, she is a ride-or-die. Phoebe will stand by her people through the strongest of storms. While it can be difficult to earn her trust, it will take something significant to lose her support.

✧ Hard-Working: Laziness is a foreign concept for Phoebe. She puts her full effort into everything and will not stop until she has achieved what she set out for.

likes

Loud music, red wine, stargazing, fresh snow, driving, incense, candles, cherry flavor, pasta, movies

dislikes

Straight liquor, rain, whittling stakes, liars, bland food, coffee, humidity, snakes, injuries, boredom

fears

Being turned, dying, never feeling sunshine again

strengths

Fast, ranged weapons (specifically crossbow), agile, problem-solving, level-headed

weaknesses

Not very strong, overthinking, admitting fault, grudge-holding, tact

personal items

Silver Cross Necklace- A gift from her uncle. She isn't religious, but it is helpful to have.
Wooden Stakes- She always has two on her: one to use and a backup.
Small Bottle of Holy Water- Helpful in an emergency but not enough by itself.

pers.

pers.

history

Phoebe McCartney’s existence was never planned. Her parents were never even in a relationship. Her father was staying in South Carolina at the time. Her mother had no desire to parent, so she left Phoebe with her father. The pair moved to Chicago where his family was located. Rob, and now Phoebe, came from a long line of vampire hunters. The practice was passed down from generation to generation. However, Rob’s brother, Adam, was about ten years younger, so he was never able to go along with his father and brother and learn the family trade.

However, Rob decided to pass it along to his daughter, taking her along on his hunts from the time she was able to use a stake. Of course, he never put her in actually dangerous situations until he was sure she was able to handle them. Because she still had to attend school, they remained in the Chicago area while hunting. Phoebe was left in her uncle’s care whenever her father headed off on a hunt outside the immediate area.

For her, her life was normal but she was very aware that it was unusual. She knew she could never really discuss what her family was involved in with her peers. So, she stayed on the social outskirts at school because she couldn’t relate to her peers and would have never fit in anyway. Oftentimes, she had to come up with creative excuses for her injuries related to hunting and training. It was a miracle nobody ever assumed they were from anything more sinister.

She was 21 when the world as she knew it came to an end. The vampire problem her family dealt with became bigger than they could ever imagine when the Dark began. They knew they had a bigger goal. So, her father formed a group, basing it out of the church Adam was a priest at. They’ve been working from the beginning to take down the vampires and hopefully reverse the Dark.

However, two years ago, the unimaginable happened. Rob died. And ironically enough, there were no vampires involved. He died in his sleep. Phoebe always knew that her father wouldn’t make it to old age, but she never expected his death to be natural. Now, the responsibility of the group falls on her shoulders. She tries her best to do what she thinks is right, but her father left behind very large shoes to fill.

Father (Deceased)

Rob McCartney

While Phoebe and her father loved each other very much, their relationship was neither warm nor fuzzy. Their relationship mostly consisted of him passing on his vampire-hunting knowledge. However, they trusted each other completely and could always share opinions without judgment. His death was hard on Phoebe and she does her best to do what he would want her to do.

Uncle (Alive)

Adam McCartney

Adam is Phoebe's favorite (and only) uncle. He is also her godfather. The pair are very close and far more affectionate than Phoebe ever was with her father. She is able to confide in him and lean on him for support and advice. He does his best to support the group's mission, but he is not a vampire hunter by trade and usually assists with research and providing supplies.

How and when did you join the group?

“Born into it, I guess. My family has been hunting vampires for generations. My dad has brought me along on hunts since I was old enough to hold a stake.”

Do you trust everyone in the group?

“Some more than others, but none of them would be here if I didn’t have a baseline level of trust in them.”

Do you think you all have a chance at taking down the vampires?

She pauses for a moment. “It’s gonna be tough. But, someone’s gotta try. We can’t let things remain the way they are, so if that means fixing things or dying trying, I’m all in.”

hist.

hist.

scroll

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[social]

FULL NAME

NICKNAMES

AGE

D.O.B

GENDER

SEXUALITY

ROLE

Inara Joan Solace

Nara

Thirty-one

May 29th

Cis. Female, She/her

Bisexual

The Expert

FACECLAIM. Maika Monroe
HEIGHT. 5'6"
HAIR. Medium brown
EYES. Hazel
DISTINGUISHING FEATURES. Thin lips, narrow face, big eyes,
SCARS. She has thin white scars on the back and sides of her neck
MODS. Standard ear piercings

LIKES. Dark coffee, tea, reading, puzzles, intricate things, poetry, drawing, collecting things, learning, languages, mythology, the occult, research, having a job, being right

DISLIKES. Hangovers, not having caffeine, being wrong, being alone, blood stains, cold showers, dead flowers, biting her nails, nightmares, people who cry, being vulnerable

STRENGTHS. Shooting, pattern recognition, memorization, quick thinking, researching

WEAKNESSES. Dealing with heavy emotions, working with groups, being wrong, overstimulation, close relationships

FEARS. Strangulation, being defenseless

VICES. List form
Paranoid — She struggles with pretty severe anxiety nowadays and it has gotten to the point where she is fully paranoid. She often feels like she's being watched or hunted, leading to her being very reserved and mistrustful of people. She does not like newcomers or anyone who poses a threat to the group and will find herself being overly cautious of them. This also causes many of her anxiety-based habits to come out more frequently.

Perfectionist — Unable to settle for anything less than perfect or just right, she has a hard time not meeting those expectations. Whether it's something like forgetting to pack something, getting a bit of information wrong, or learning the wrong thing, it can send her into a bit of a spiral where she shuts down and will rework the thing until she gets it right.

Stubborn — Her stubbornness is born out of fear of being left behind and forgotten. She clings to any task she is given and is desperate to do it right and receive praise or acknowledgment for it. She is difficult to sway because of this and will put herself in difficult positions because she won't give up.

VIRTUES. List form
Intelligent — From childhood she was always a bright child. This causes her to seek out information wherever she can. While she hyper-fixates on certain topics, she generally only invests her time in learning about useful things that she can use day to day. Especially now in this environment.

Reliable — Even though she is not someone who trusts easily, she is incredibly reliable. She finds it counter-productive to not be a trustworthy person and so she always follows through on what she says, regardless of how things go. She can put aside all feelings as long as she can fulfill the promises she has made.

Problem-solving — Due to the nature of her job (before this) and her childhood, she is someone who always manages to problem-solve and find a way to think outside of the box for a solution. She doesn't like feeling trapped so this has helped her get out of many difficult situations throughout her life.

HISTORY. Her earliest memory is that of the sun in her eyes, flickering back and forth, making it difficult to see. Or at least, that's how she remembers it. In reality, it was the penlight of a first responder as they checked the girl over for any injuries. After all, she was alone in a ditch beside a burning car. She can't remember much when she thinks back to that time, she was only four years old after all. Her next memory is sitting at a large table, staring down at a bowl of oatmeal, and crying. She couldn't place why she was crying but she remembered the irritated expressions of the adults sitting across the table, clearly disappointed in how she was behaving. Her mind likes playing tricks when she tries to think back to those early days, her usual clear thoughts are overrun by darkness and static.

Her childhood was filled with her counting every crack she passed, every pebble she kicked, and memorizing everything they passed on her way to school. The world was neatly tucked away into files that she could pull out at any given moment, reciting the information perfectly. To her father, a man who was forever a stranger to her, and her stepmother, a woman who held little patience, this was quite the annoyance. A child that always remembered and was almost always right, was frustrating. Being told you were wrong by a seven-year-old sent any adult into a fury. But Inara did not budge. She kept her small feet promptly marching forward, spending all her time diving into books and the world of academia.

The characters in history and fiction became her friends and her mind was an escape from the nightmare she lived in. Half-siblings came and went, all sneering and mocking her for her odd personality, siting her bizarre lack of emotional reactions or how she oddly looked like some kind of bird that rarely seemed to blink. But still, she kept herself rooted in what she knew, in what she could control. She remembers the first time she was ever hit for 'mouthing off' when her father was in the wrong about something. Her mind buzzed and sparked in ways she couldn't explain, the files of information rattling and threatening to spill. Iron on her tongue, she stared dumbfounded at him, unsure of how to react. So she didn't. At least not in front of him. But in the cover of darkness provided by blankets, she cried, her petite frame wrapped helplessly around a copy of Dracula.

It was at this point that she felt or thought she felt, a familiar hand ghosting over the back of her head and down her neck, soothing the pain in her body and mind. Rationality caused her to rip off the covers, but she didn't see anyone. She was alone. This pattern continued as she aged, and despite logic telling her what she should and shouldn't do, her desire to be correct overrode self-preservation. Her determination to be right in a sea of misinformation wasn't ideal but it gave her satisfaction to know that those who were wrong finally knew that she was right. Due to her intellect and lack of resources, she was able to skip grades and eventually moved out of the house before she was 18 years old.

She found freedom in college, and a desire to discover more about the foggy memories of her past. So she invested herself in a career within the criminal justice ring, having an eye on the FBI. So she worked, studied, and trained. She went to the gym, practiced at a shooting range, and she created a folder that served as her motivation. All that was in it was medical records from the accident and a picture recovered from her raincoat. It was a picture of her with her mom but the face of her mother had been completely burned off by the fire. So there she sat, night after night, staring at that photo, wondering if she'd ever remember.

During college, she was a studious thing and invested her free time into her hobbies, which came in the form of the occult and magic. She knew something as magical and outlandish as these things were pointless to fixate on but that had given her comfort in her childhood and so she continued to study them, following their histories as far back as she could find. Her hobby was kept close to her heart as she transitioned into a job within the FBI and she made sure to keep that part hidden, so it would be protected and safe from harm. She knew that jobs like this broke people down. It perverted all the joys in their lives. So she kept it to herself, treasuring the rare moments when she could indulge in a new book or historic article.

When the darkness came, she didn't know what to make of it. Her brain went on auto-pilot, sorting through every single bit of information she had and she tried to survive. She watched her job crumble around her as those in power were quickly overthrown and any means to protect yourself was broken to pieces. So she ran, she used her wits, and she did her best to survive. But even still, in a world of darkness caused by creatures she had grown up reading about, people did not listen. She pleaded and begged but it fell on deaf ears. Primal instincts to survive. That's what it had to be. They were desperate to survive and they could not think rationally. So when she finally stumbled upon a group, or rather they found her, and they listened, she didn't want to leave. She had finally found a place where her voice was needed, where her mind was appreciated, and she didn't want to give that up.

EXTRA. Has an eidetic memory, is neurodivergent (undiagnosed), became an FBI Special Agent when she was 23, doesn't do well without coffee (is fully addicted lol), hates people touching her neck, doesn't like talking about her family, picks at her nails frequently, cleans guns whenever she's anxious, takes guns apart and puts them back together to manage stress, always has a journal with her, rarely lets her hair down, she's an herbalist, often forgets to eat, doesn't sleep if she's been researching, she became obsessed with the occult/magic when she was around six years old, she uses her mom's surname, in her bedroom she has a wall that is dedicated to everything she knows about The Dark and the vampires

QUESTIONS.
How and when did they join the group?
— She picks at her nails, feeling uncomfortable as she shifts in her seat. "Around three and a half years ago? I got caught up in a rather dicey situation with some other people, nobody I knew, and well, this group is the one that came to our rescue. Unfortunately, I'm the only one who lived. I tagged along with them because I felt like there was a lot people didn't know..."

Do they trust everyone in the group?
— She immediately stiffens and her gaze wanders around the room, as if looking for prying eyes. She shakes her head and picks even more aggressively at her nail, not even wincing when blood is drawn.

Do they think they have a chance at taking down the vampires?
— "In theory, yes. I know a lot about them from studying before this all happened and from surviving with this group. Do I trust myself to always take the shot or hit my mark? No. The human body is a strange thing and I do not know if my rational brain can override things like primal instinct. So I can't in good conscience assume that anyone else will."

coded by social (not mobile friendly)

Spoiler: uncoded ver.

FACECLAIM. Maika Monroe
HEIGHT. 5'6"
HAIR. Medium brown
EYES. Hazel
DISTINGUISHING FEATURES. Thin lips, narrow face, big eyes,
SCARS. She has thin white scars on the back and sides of her neck
MODS. Standard ear piercings

LIKES. Dark coffee, tea, reading, puzzles, intricate things, poetry, drawing, collecting things, learning, languages, mythology, the occult, research, having a job, being right

DISLIKES. Hangovers, not having caffeine, being wrong, being alone, blood stains, cold showers, dead flowers, biting her nails, nightmares, people who cry, being vulnerable

STRENGTHS. Shooting, pattern recognition, memorization, quick thinking, researching

WEAKNESSES. Dealing with heavy emotions, working with groups, being wrong, overstimulation, close relationships

FEARS. Strangulation, being defenseless

VICES. List form
Paranoid — She struggles with pretty severe anxiety nowadays and it has gotten to the point where she is fully paranoid. She often feels like she's being watched or hunted, leading to her being very reserved and mistrustful of people. She does not like newcomers or anyone who poses a threat to the group and will find herself being overly cautious of them. This also causes many of her anxiety-based habits to come out more frequently.

Perfectionist — Unable to settle for anything less than perfect or just right, she has a hard time not meeting those expectations. Whether it's something like forgetting to pack something, getting a bit of information wrong, or learning the wrong thing, it can send her into a bit of a spiral where she shuts down and will rework the thing until she gets it right.

Stubborn — Her stubbornness is born out of fear of being left behind and forgotten. She clings to any task she is given and is desperate to do it right and receive praise or acknowledgment for it. She is difficult to sway because of this and will put herself in difficult positions because she won't give up.

VIRTUES. List form
Intelligent — From childhood she was always a bright child. This causes her to seek out information wherever she can. While she hyper-fixates on certain topics, she generally only invests her time in learning about useful things that she can use day to day. Especially now in this environment.

Reliable — Even though she is not someone who trusts easily, she is incredibly reliable. She finds it counter-productive to not be a trustworthy person and so she always follows through on what she says, regardless of how things go. She can put aside all feelings as long as she can fulfill the promises she has made.

Problem-solving — Due to the nature of her job (before this) and her childhood, she is someone who always manages to problem-solve and find a way to think outside of the box for a solution. She doesn't like feeling trapped so this has helped her get out of many difficult situations throughout her life.

HISTORY. Her earliest memory is that of the sun in her eyes, flickering back and forth, making it difficult to see. Or at least, that's how she remembers it. In reality, it was the penlight of a first responder as they checked the girl over for any injuries. After all, she was alone in a ditch beside a burning car. She can't remember much when she thinks back to that time, she was only four years old after all. Her next memory is sitting at a large table, staring down at a bowl of oatmeal, and crying. She couldn't place why she was crying but she remembered the irritated expressions of the adults sitting across the table, clearly disappointed in how she was behaving. Her mind likes playing tricks when she tries to think back to those early days, her usual clear thoughts are overrun by darkness and static.

Her childhood was filled with her counting every crack she passed, every pebble she kicked, and memorizing everything they passed on her way to school. The world was neatly tucked away into files that she could pull out at any given moment, reciting the information perfectly. To her father, a man who was forever a stranger to her, and her stepmother, a woman who held little patience, this was quite the annoyance. A child that always remembered and was almost always right, was frustrating. Being told you were wrong by a seven-year-old sent any adult into a fury. But Inara did not budge. She kept her small feet promptly marching forward, spending all her time diving into books and the world of academia.

The characters in history and fiction became her friends and her mind was an escape from the nightmare she lived in. Half-siblings came and went, all sneering and mocking her for her odd personality, siting her bizarre lack of emotional reactions or how she oddly looked like some kind of bird that rarely seemed to blink. But still, she kept herself rooted in what she knew, in what she could control. She remembers the first time she was ever hit for 'mouthing off' when her father was in the wrong about something. Her mind buzzed and sparked in ways she couldn't explain, the files of information rattling and threatening to spill. Iron on her tongue, she stared dumbfounded at him, unsure of how to react. So she didn't. At least not in front of him. But in the cover of darkness provided by blankets, she cried, her petite frame wrapped helplessly around a copy of Dracula.

It was at this point that she felt or thought she felt, a familiar hand ghosting over the back of her head and down her neck, soothing the pain in her body and mind. Rationality caused her to rip off the covers, but she didn't see anyone. She was alone. This pattern continued as she aged, and despite logic telling her what she should and shouldn't do, her desire to be correct overrode self-preservation. Her determination to be right in a sea of misinformation wasn't ideal but it gave her satisfaction to know that those who were wrong finally knew that she was right. Due to her intellect and lack of resources, she was able to skip grades and eventually moved out of the house before she was 18 years old.

She found freedom in college, and a desire to discover more about the foggy memories of her past. So she invested herself in a career within the criminal justice ring, having an eye on the FBI. So she worked, studied, and trained. She went to the gym, practiced at a shooting range, and she created a folder that served as her motivation. All that was in it was medical records from the accident and a picture recovered from her raincoat. It was a picture of her with her mom but the face of her mother had been completely burned off by the fire. So there she sat, night after night, staring at that photo, wondering if she'd ever remember.

During college, she was a studious thing and invested her free time into her hobbies, which came in the form of the occult and magic. She knew something as magical and outlandish as these things were pointless to fixate on but that had given her comfort in her childhood and so she continued to study them, following their histories as far back as she could find. Her hobby was kept close to her heart as she transitioned into a job within the FBI and she made sure to keep that part hidden, so it would be protected and safe from harm. She knew that jobs like this broke people down. It perverted all the joys in their lives. So she kept it to herself, treasuring the rare moments when she could indulge in a new book or historic article.

When the darkness came, she didn't know what to make of it. Her brain went on auto-pilot, sorting through every single bit of information she had and she tried to survive. She watched her job crumble around her as those in power were quickly overthrown and any means to protect yourself was broken to pieces. So she ran, she used her wits, and she did her best to survive. But even still, in a world of darkness caused by creatures she had grown up reading about, people did not listen. She pleaded and begged but it fell on deaf ears. Primal instincts to survive. That's what it had to be. They were desperate to survive and they could not think rationally. So when she finally stumbled upon a group, or rather they found her, and they listened, she didn't want to leave. She had finally found a place where her voice was needed, where her mind was appreciated, and she didn't want to give that up.

EXTRA. Has an eidetic memory, is neurodivergent (undiagnosed), became an FBI Special Agent when she was 23, doesn't do well without coffee (is fully addicted lol), hates people touching her neck, doesn't like talking about her family, picks at her nails frequently, cleans guns whenever she's anxious, takes guns apart and puts them back together to manage stress, always has a journal with her, rarely lets her hair down, she's an herbalist, often forgets to eat, doesn't sleep if she's been researching, she became obsessed with the occult/magic when she was around six years old, she uses her mom's surname, in her bedroom she has a wall that is dedicated to everything she knows about The Dark and the vampires

QUESTIONS.
How and when did they join the group?
— She picks at her nails, feeling uncomfortable as she shifts in her seat. "Around three and a half years ago? I got caught up in a rather dicey situation with some other people, nobody I knew, and well, this group is the one that came to our rescue. Unfortunately, I'm the only one who lived. I tagged along with them because I felt like there was a lot people didn't know..."

Do they trust everyone in the group?
— She immediately stiffens and her gaze wanders around the room, as if looking for prying eyes. She shakes her head and picks even more aggressively at her nail, not even wincing when blood is drawn.

Do they think they have a chance at taking down the vampires?
— "In theory, yes. I know a lot about them from studying before this all happened and from surviving with this group. Do I trust myself to always take the shot or hit my mark? No. The human body is a strange thing and I do not know if my rational brain can override things like primal instinct. So I can't in good conscience assume that anyone else will."

 

[elanara]

scroll

tbd

tbd

erik

chen

persona

&

attributes

virtues

vices

backstory

&

connections

name.

Erik Chen

alias.

None

age.

39

d.o.b.

06/25/1985

gender.

Male

sexuality.

Straight

occupation.

Formerly, sniper at US Army. Currently, vampire hunter.

role.

The Soldier

"You learn a lot about a person from the other end of a sniper rifle."

eyes.

Dark brown

hair.

Black

skin.

Tan

ethnicity.

Chinese-American

height.

6' 2"

body mods.

"Does a hip replacement count?"

scars.

Some bullet wounds from his time in the military. Several other scars from his hunting experiences.

faceclaim.

Daniel Wu

overview.

Erik is a war veteran who returned home just before the world went to shit. He's tired a lot, grumpy a lot, has the general attitude of someone's who's looked death square in the face many times and is at the point now where he simply doesn't give a fuck. Will sometimes - no, frequently - drink in excess, and also suffers from PTSD. Heavily. He goes from believing there's absolutely no point in having anything to fight for one day, to being completely hands on the next. Though he doesn't admit it, deep down he's truly glad he found a purpose with the group, because they're the only people in this world that have given him a shred of hope. And at the very least, even on days whever everything feels pointless, working with them has given him something to fucking do.

"I'm not an alcoholic. I'm a heavy drinker. There's a clear distinction between the two."

strengths.

Wushu martial arts (though according to his grandmother, he's a bit rusty). Marksmanship. Knows his way around an engine. Also pretty damn good at receiving criticism, considering people have been giving it to him his entire life.

weaknesses.

His heavy drinking habits that teeter very close to the line of alcoholism. Stubborn. As. Hell. Highly mistrusting of others - even those that are genuinely trying to be helpful. Suffers from insomnia. Joint pain. Yeah, he's strong, but ever since his hip surgery his body hasn't been quite the same - or maybe he's just getting old.

fears.

Losing sight of his purpose in life - "Whatever the hell that means." Getting his grandmother killed. Not ever finding out what happened to his brother and his family.

personal affects.

Sniper rifle, handgun, a silver dagger tucked away in his boot, flask of holy water - ya know, all the typical items one might need for vampire hunting.

likes.

Spicy food. In fact, the spicier the better (and if he says it's not spicy, then don't trust him). Baijiu. Whiskey neat. Gambling. Sleeping. Summer - he misses the Hong Kong heat. Dark chocolate. Old, black and white Chinese films - they're nostalgic and remind him of his mom and dad.

dislikes.

People asking for favors. When his grandmother volunteers him to help the neighbors with something. Being added into group chats after he's told people very specifically not to add him to group chats. People that can't take criticism, or are allergic to the word 'no.' Extremely sugary sweets. Tequila, and the fact that his hangovers become far worse the older he gets. Oh, and no matter how long he's lived here for, he'll never get used to Chicago winters.

observant

It naturally comes with his profession. Even when he isn't staring you down the other end of a scope, he still pays attention to every detail in the room - exit routes, that one suspicious person lingering at the edge of the crowd, the slight change in expression whenever someone on the team is on edge about something. He pays a lot more attention to things than one might think.

adaptable

He has the ability to recognize changes quickly in any scenario, familiarize himself with threats, and figure things out on the fly. This is mostly attributed to his time in the military, which has carried over perfectly into vampire hunting life.

down-to-earth

Surprisingly enough, Erik is a fairly easy person to talk to. He's also sensible and realistic, and does his best to help the group make sound decisions.

stubborn

Sometimes, it's hard to get him to budge on things, and some things he simply will not budge on at all. His conviction that his own actions are correct and that other's aren't can be quite strong, considering the experiences he's racked up over the years. This has less to do with pride or the need to be right all the time, and more to do with not wanting to see anyone get hurt or killed. Needless to say, this has caused several heated arguments between other members in the past.

pessimistic

Maybe this stems from his cultural roots or his experiences in the military, but he has the occasional tendency to view the downsides to most situations. This will lead him to overprepare for things by creating multiple back up plans in case shit goes wrong.

blunt

Honesty might be a good thing, but Erik has a tendency to deliver it in a very direct way. He tries to soften the blow and be understanding, but sometimes it's a lot easier to get right to the point.

"Death is not an adventure."

history.

Erik was born and raised in Hong Kong until the age of ten, when his parents moved to America with next to nothing but the clothes on their backs. They decided to settle in Chicago, where his dad worked as an auto-mechanic and his mother remained home to look after him and his older brother, Johnny.

But not even a year after the move, mother got sick. It started out slowly. Small coughing fits that turned more violent over time. Then the shortness of breath. Eventually, she couldn't walk from one end of the house without having to gasp for air. But like most Chinese parents, his mother refused to see a doctor out of fear that it would cost too much money. Instead, she kept on insisting that she was fine, and relied on the aid of a local Chinese herbalist to do the trick.

But nothing worked.

By the time they made it to the hospital and got a proper diagnosis, the cancer in her lungs had advanced to stage four. She was dead within two weeks.

Her death hit the family hard, but it was especially difficult for father. To help cope with the grief of losing his wife, and also the stress of raising two boys, he sent money for his mother-in-law to come and stay with them. While she never got the chance to see her daughter one last time before she passed, she at least got to spend time with her grandsons and help them grieve her loss. At first, Erik was resistant towards her moving in with the family, but over time they developed a close bond.

Growing up, grandmother would teach him and his brother all sorts of things, from cooking and gardening, but also how to play mahjong or how to cheat at cards. Most importantly, however, she taught both boys how to fight. After all, many years ago she'd been a wushu master, a skill she also passed down to her daughter. But Erik never knew about this until after his mother died, because she had refused to teach them.

So that's how they passed their days.

While father was away at work, Erik and Johnny were learning how to gamble and throw punches. They grew older, and their skills grew sharper. At one point grandmother encouraged their father to let them enter competitions, a suggestion he vehemently denied, insisting that their education was more important. He had always been a typically strict man, but mother's death had changed him. After years of sacrifice, giving up everything he had to move to a new country where he hardly knew the language, he became increasingly insistent that his sons build better futures for themselves.

Not only was father strict, he was also very cold. There were no words of praise or encouragement when Erik or Johnny made any sort of achievements at school. No celebrations, no pats on the back. That was grandma's duty, and while she did her best to fill that gap, it was never quite the same.

The only thing that mattered to father was whether or not they went to university and pursued well-paying professions. Something his brother Johnny had no trouble doing.

Erik, on the other hand, not so much. He wasn't rebellious by any means, but he was a considerably lazy teenager who lacked any motivation to apply himself in the classroom. This became the source of several heated arguments between him and his father that escalated over time - of which grandmother always mediated. He did eventually attend a state school for a year and a half after high school, but then one day he came home and announced that he had dropped out and joined the army. And his father went ballistic.

This was 2004. Erik was nineteen. Young and stupid and a complete idiot - the very exact words his father used. Why can't you be more like your brother? He has a full ride scholarship to MIT. He'll be an engineer with a good future. What are you going to do in the army, huh? Your mother and I didn't sacrifice everything we had for you to get blown up in another country.

But by then it was too late. Erik had already signed the recruitment papers. His father had no choice but to accept his decision.

Over the course of the next few years, Erik trudged his way through the ranks. The training was difficult, and it took time for him to adjust to the strict regimen, but overall it didn’t take long for him to excel at whatever task his superiors threw at him.

While he worked his way through sniper school, he occasionally received small tidbits of news from home from his grandmother. Johnny graduated university, found a job, got married. Meanwhile, Erik was busy training, preparing to be sent overseas.

The hardest news, however, came a few years later when he was halfway through a fifteen month deployment. This time it wasn't his grandmother that called, but his brother, informing him that father had died. Throat cancer - no thanks to decades of cigarette smoking. The news hit hard. But Erik was thousands of miles away at war, and had no other choice but to compartmentalize his grief.

Years passed. Grandmother was still living in the family house in Chicago. Johnny was busy raising his family in California - Pasedena, to be exact. And when the time came around for him to renew his contract, Erik chose to reenlist for yet another round of active duty despite his brother urging him to return home.

And then it happened, the very thing his father warned about.

He got blown up, resulting in several traumatic injuries (see: several broken bones, including his hip), thus putting an abrupt end to his military career.

Making the switch from life as a soldier to civilian was especially difficult for him. He missed the comradery, the structured routine. In the army, he had a purpose. A cause to fight for that was greater than oneself. But back home, things were different. Rather than accepting the offer to move in with his brother and his family, he chose to return to Chicago. Spent the next few months doing a whole lot of nothing, just sitting around the house drinking, watching old Chinese movies with grandmother (who was honestly a saint at helping him readjust to normal life), playing mahjong with her to kill the time. All the while he slipped deeper and deeper into depression.

Then the dark came. And everything changed.

Maybe it was a deep sense of newfound purpose, or maybe it was simply sheer fucking boredom, but Erick started hunting after that. It started out slow - almost like a silly little hobby. He'd leave the house for hours at a time, carrying his rifle in tow. Found a spot to hide somewhere in the city and picked off as many vampires as he could. He operated on his own like this for months, occasionally getting into close-combat scraps with vampires, but always finding a way out of it.

It was during the course of that first year when he noticed the group. Initially they were just what appeared to be a father daughter pair. Old Man and Blondie, he called them. Then over time, he spotted more individuals with them. Erik watched them curiously. Made an effort to help them in a few close calls, even. And then he’d watch from a distance as they stood around surprised, wondering where that fucking shot came from that just killed the vampire that was about to kill them not even ten seconds ago.

While he didn’t go out of his way to pinpoint their exact comings and goings, he did make a note to try and help them if they happened to cross paths. Which was surprisingly often - perhaps once every three or four weeks.

There was one particular winter he stopped hunting all together, though - issues with his hip, and all that. But by the time spring came around it was back to business as usual.

And then one day, they decided to track him down and pay him a friendly visit. And he’s been hunting with them ever since.

miscellaneous.

• Fluent in English, Cantonese, and Mandarin.
• His bones get all achey before rainfall.
• Enjoys classic rock music, and old school hip hop.
• Enjoys running. Or at least he used to, anyway.

family.

Johnny Chen - 41 - older brother - unknown

• Mechanical engineer. Growing up Erik wanted to hate him but couldn't bring himself to do so. Even though they were different, they got along well, and Johnny always supported Erik with whatever he wanted to do with life. He often encouraged him to try and mend things over with father, and there are times when Erik wished he'd listened to him more.

Grandmother / Waipo - 85 - grandmother - alive

• A sweet old lady that cares deeply for her grandson, but is also shrewd and sassy, with incredibly sharp wit. A former wushu master, and in great physical shape for her age. Isn't afraid to kick somebody's ass if she needs to. Is delighted by visitors and enjoys hosting the group whenever they decide to stop by.
• Her english is still very broken, even after living in America all these years.

Panda - alive

• A stray cat his grandmother adopted.

How and when did they join the group?

"The short version? I killed a vampire that was about to sink their fangs into one of their members. I guess they figured out where the shot came from. Scoped the place out. Found an old crumbled up [liquor store] receipt that must've fallen out of my back pocket and tracked me down that way. Kind of an impressive bit of sleuthing, if you ask me."

Do they trust everyone in the group?

He lets out a sardonic laugh. "The hell do you think?" Then shrugs. "They're alright I guess. Though I'm still on the fence about that one guy."

Do they think they have a chance at taking down the vampires?

"Maybe if the government nukes them off the face of the earth." He shrugs. "Look - if they were able to find a way to black out the sun, then surely it can be reversed. Vampires are powerful, but they're not invincible. Still, it's gonna take a lot of firepower than what we've got to get rid of them all."

filler

 

[celestialbody]

scroll

Long Face

Lestat de Lioncourt

Nicodemus

Strum

persona

&

attributes

virtues

vices

backstory

&

interview

name

Nicodemus (Nick-uh-dem-us) Strum

alias

Dem, Code (Would just prefer his name though)

age

303 (Looks to be in his mid twenties)

gender

Male

sexuality

Pansexual

pronouns

He/Him

D.O.B.

January 23

role

The Defector

"I’ve got centuries to kill, and trust me, I do it with style."

eyes

Dark Brown

hair

Black

height

5'8

distinguishing Features

Full lips and hooded eyes.

body Mods

Lobe, Tragus, Daith, Orbital, and Helix piercings.

Scars

Bite mark in the crook of his neck

faceclaim.

Joao Vitor

overview.

Nicodemus has learned the hard way that survival demands a cold, calculated approach, where emotions are a weakness and trust is a luxury he can’t afford. Over the years, he's become a master of standing alone, guarding his independence fiercely and keeping others at arm's length. The betrayals and disappointments of his past have shaped him into someone who sees others as potential threats or tools to be used, never as allies to be relied upon. But now, thrust into a group dynamic he finds himself in uncharted territory. He must relearn how to work with and rely on others, how to interact with those he isn't sure he trusts, all while maintaining the protective wall he's spent years building around himself. Despite his reservations, the fact that he's still here proves he's ready to adapt for their mission—though, deep down, he remains convinced that the world is a cruel, unforgiving place, and the only person he can truly depend on is himself.

"I’ve lived long enough to understand that power is all about timing."

likes

Quiet places, being alone, nighttime walks, the dark, getting lost, large forests, animals (Doesn't matter what kind he just likes wildlife in general), Brandy, the smell of the rain.

dislikes

Unnecessary displays of emotion – Crying/ shouting/ overly sentimental gestures, Unpredictability, meaningless chatter, large groups of people, vampire hierarchy/society, people who think they know everything, thoughts being interrupted, indecision, prying people.

strengths

Strategic thinker, resourceful, self-disciplined, composed, vampiric strength and speed, observant of body language.

weaknesses

Not very empathetic, overly self-reliant, reluctant to ask for help, loses focus when around blood(Mostly human blood but if he's hungry animal blood could do it as well), jaded.

fears

Being helpless or being caught in a situation where he’s unable to act or defend himself, being trapped in a situation where he has to rely on others, forming emotional connections that could lead to loss or betrayal.

Independent

Having never fully fit into vampire society, Nicodemus has learned to rely only on himself, valuing autonomy and self-sufficiency. He is self-reliant and can function effectively on his own, even in challenging situations.

Pragmatic

Although the groups goal may seem idealistic, Nicodemus is highly practical when it comes to execution. He understands that change takes time, and he is willing to adapt his methods to get results, even if it means taking a more unconventional path.

Resilient

Nicodemus has endured many challenges and disappointments through his long life, yet he continues to push forward. His ability to endure hardship without breaking or losing focus makes him a force to be reckoned with.

Patient

Despite his drive for change, Nicodemus understands that true transformation takes time. He is willing to bide his time, waiting for the right moment to strike or for others to come around to his way of thinking. His patience allows him to avoid hasty decisions, thinking carefully about each move he makes, and to strategically wait for the right opportunity.

Manipulative

While not inherently malicious, Nicodemus may resort to manipulation or coercion to achieve his goals. Though his ability to play on others' emotions and exploit weaknesses can be a double-edged sword.

Lone Wolf

Struggles to fit into vampire society have led him to prefer solitude, making it difficult to forge deep, meaningful relationships. This tendency toward isolation often leaves him disconnected from others and prone to mistrust.

Selfish

His desire for change is rooted in personal dissatisfaction, and he is willing to sacrifice others for the greater goal, even if it means appearing cold or indifferent to the needs of others around him.

Cynical

Years of observing the flaws within vampire and human society have left Nicodemus with a bitter outlook on the world. He views most people as self-serving and distrustful, which can make him slow to form alliances or see the good in others.

"I could tell you my secrets, but who has the time? Oh, right. I do."

history.

Nicodemus Strum was born in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, in the 1700s, to a struggling, overcrowded family. From a young age, he, along with any child old enough to work, had to find jobs to help support the household. Over the years, Nicodemus worked a variety of jobs—from laboring on a farm to working as a dock worker, an errand boy, and even a gold miner. By the time he reached his mid-twenties, he had been worn down by years of backbreaking work. He had grown thin, frail, and constantly exhausted, his health deteriorating with each passing year. Though it wasn’t widely known at the time, working in the gold mines was highly detrimental to one's health and Nicodemus had unknowingly developed a chronic lung disease from inhaling silica dust and eventually he’d become too sick to continue working. Nicodemus had become bedridden and was in constant pain with his condition only growing worse. Faced with so many mouths to feed, his family made the difficult decision to abandon him to his sickness, certain that he was destined to die soon anyway, and keeping him around seemed like a drain on their already strained resources.
Now alone and left to die in the streets, Nicodemus was approached by a mysterious figure who offered him a way out—an escape from his suffering that didn’t have to end in death, but at a cost. Desperate and with nothing left to lose, Nicodemus accepted without much thought, not expecting anything to come of it but also realizing it was this or death. The transformation was painful, but in his mind it was better than dying alone in the street. As he was reborn into something new, his body slowly healed as the man fed him blood, and the strength he had lost throughout years of illness returned.
The man who had saved him introduced himself as Luar. Luar guided Nicodemus into his new life as a vampire, teaching him how to hunt to satiate his new appetite, about vampire society and how to navigate (and avoid) it and about his new vampiric abilities. When Nicodemus asked why Luar had decided to save him, Luar responded with vague words, never offering a clear explanation and just commenting that he reminded him of someone he used to know. Nevertheless, Nicodemus stayed loyal to Luar, staying at his side dutifully for what felt like a lifetime. Over time, even as Nicodemus’s emotions slowly dulled, his devotion remained steadfast, his loyalty to the man immense, knowing he would not have survived without Luar.
But as the years passed, Luar’s interest in Nicodemus began to fade. Whatever Luar had seen in him that had made him want to make Nicodemus his companion had faded away. Perhaps he liked how human Nicodemus was and as he reached into a century of his unliving and lost most of his humanity, whatever novelty he had faded. Nicodemus wouldn’t know because Luar had just left one day. Whether he grew to despise the vampire version of him or he just liked having a fresh eyed human like companion and had left to find some other sad sap on the edge of death to turn Nicodemus wasn’t sure, all he did know was after so long he was alone again. Nicodemus, though unable to feel human emotions anymore, felt the absence of Luar deeply. Abandoned, he struggled to find meaning in his existence.
While with Luar, Nicodemus had been taught how to avoid drawing attention from other vampires, as new and freshly turned vampires were often absorbed into more powerful clans. But with Luar gone, Nicodemus slipped up and drew the attention of a strong vampire clan that called themselves ‘The Silver Serpents’ after hunting in their territory. He was forced into the clan and made to serve as one of their lesser vampires servants. Attempts to escape were met with harsh punishment, and Nicodemus quickly realized that once a clan had its grip on you, escape was nearly impossible. Stuck with the Silver Serpents Nicodemus was forced to do many tasks in the name of the clan, from regular work you’d expect from a human servant to more vampiric duties. He’d go hunting for them, engage in clan wars, clean up the evidence afterwards, being an errand/message boy to being a bodyguard for the clan leaders as he gained more social standing amongst them. As the years wore on, Nicodemus witnessed firsthand the cruelty of vampire society. Betrayals, murders, lies, and theft were rampant, and even though he was growing older and his humanity slipped further away, Nicodemus made a promise to himself: no matter how much he lost himself to time, he would never let himself turn into whatever these people turned into.
In the 1980s, the Silver Serpents were forced to flee Brazil after a war with another vampire clan left them decimated. But even after The Silver Serpents arrived in America, the leaders were at odds, blaming one another for the fall from grace their clan had suffered, and it wasn’t long before the clan heads were killed in a power struggle. With the leadership in chaos and members fighting to fill the vacuum of space and take over the position as head of the Silver Serpents, Nicodemus saw an opportunity to escape. With everyone distracted he was able to escape and get far away from the clan that had held him hostage for so many years and he finally regained his independence and freedom.
For the next several decades, Nicodemus lived a solitary life, moving constantly and hiding deep in forests and mountains to avoid both human and vampire society. Though he occasionally encountered others, he kept his distance, refusing to form attachments. He had been isolated for so long that when the eternal night fell, he was just as surprised as the humans. Though vampires had risen to dominance, Nicodemus stayed on the fringes, observing but never participating in their newfound control over humanity. Watching as vampires caused chaos, gorging themselves and wreaking havoc before eventually pulling back, farming humans for food, entertainment, and servitude. Though he no longer considered himself human, Nicodemus remembered what it was like to be forced into servitude and to be regarded as lesser, and seeing their situation being the same now made him feel a complicated connection to the humans plight.
As vampire society grew, their clans expanded, spreading into new territories and encroaching on the places where Nicodemus had once found refuge. Realizing that staying hidden was no longer a viable option, he knew he had to act if he wanted to preserve his freedom. If he didn’t want to be swept up by one of these powerful new clans, he would need to find a way to reverse the eternal night and restore balance to the world, and for once he was willing to admit it wasn’t a task he’d be capable of doing alone.

How and when did they join the group?

"Yeah, so I probably freaked them out a bit with my initial approach. I figured if I went in as myself, it would end with a stake in my chest and a few bullets for good measure. And while I'm no stranger to pain, I was trying to do this with as little bloodshed as possible. So, I thought it would be really clever to leave behind some little notes—information on where they could hunt and gather food without wandering into vampire territory, or places crawling with wild fledglings. You know, useful stuff. But apparently, it came off as... well, creepy. Anyway, after a while, I came clean about being the one behind the notes, and after an intense conversation with a sharp stake pressed into my chest, I was—let’s say—not exactly accepted into the group, but more like ‘tolerated as a useful asset.’ I wasn’t really bothered by it. I knew it would take time to win them over. And time is something I have an abundance of. That was... a year ago, I think? Something like that. Point is, it's been long enough now that I’m pretty sure at least a few of them actually consider me part of the group."

do they trust everyone in the group?

"Trust? That’s a bit of a stretch. I wouldn’t say I trust anyone, but after years of being alone, I guess I’m... willing to work with them. That’s something, right? But there’s always that one—still looks at me like they’re just hoping I'll spontaneously combust. If glares could kill, I’d be ash by now."

Do they think they have a chance at taking down the vampires?

"Do we have a chance? Sure, there’s always a chance. Just a matter of getting the right information, figuring out who we’re up against, making a plan... all the boring stuff then, you know, trying not to die in the process. After that, it’s just a matter of grabbing that chance when it finally comes. Simple, really."

filler

 

[blue UP]

scroll

There Was Time

Koethe

franklin

sharp

persona

&

attributes

virtues

vices

backstory

&

questions

name.

Franklin Sharp

nickname.

Frank

age.

34

dob.

Nov 16

gender.

Male (he/him)

sexuality.

Bisexual

occupation.

Detective

role.

The In-Between

"You got a taste for blood when you were licking your own wounds."

eyes.

blue

hair.

muddy blond

height.

6'2"

distinguishing features.

a crooked nose and a lopsided grin

scars.

a nasty gouge around his neck from the attempted turning

faceclaim.

Dan Stevens

overview.

Everything is a joke to Frank. Honestly, he'd like for it not to be. Yet, coping was not laced in his bones or gifted to him in blood. So, dry wit and a tendency to mouth off is his modus operandi. He will tell you that the current predicament he's in means nothing. "Water off a duck's back... what the fuck does that mean anyway?" Yet, he'd be lying if there wasn't this static anxiety in his chest that never seems to go away. And he's a bit too chicken shit to ask the vampire if that's the norm or if he's truly that broken.

"My brain has no heart. My heart has no brain. That's why when I speak my mind I seem heartless, and when I do what's in my heart I seem thoughtless."

likes.

that comfort that putting a cigarette against his lips, canceling plans, clicking a pen rapidly in his hand, rolling his eyes when people get annoyed, bad karaoke with a good buzz, and cracking a window on a crisp day.

dislikes.

bossy people, the smell of soured trash, ants, smug ass liars, loud noises, whispering, being woken up at 4AM for no good reason, Billy Joel music, and corpses.

strengths.

pragmatic, honest, curious, street smart, creative when it comes to solutions to complex problems, a reliable confidant, morally flexible, a good sleuth

weaknesses.

doubts himself, treats that doubt like it's no big deal, lets it cripple him during tense moments, a lot of his "creative solutions" involve lighting something on fire, nosy as all hell, will hold a grudge til the end of time, can't swim

fears.

That everything he has done, every virtue he has tried to uphold, and every vice he has turned down, has been for nothing. That his soul is truly gone. And when he dies, he'll be snuffed out of the world like a stiff wind across a flame--nothing lost.

composure

"It takes a lot of dignity to crawl around in the shit and not quit." While Frank may not be a beacon of altruism, he does not bend when people apply pressure. He doesn't hide his code behind a sweet smile. Instead, he tells you what crosses a line and what doesn't.

candor

"Look, I don't need my words to be edible, so there's no need to sugarcoat them." You want the truth, you ask Frank. He won't flavor it in useless platitudes. Instead, he'll tell you exactly how he sees things. He won't be unnecessarily harsh unless you seem lost in your fantasy.

morally flexible

"I get it; you don't want to get your hands dirty. Mine are already filthy. Not literally... I take personal hygiene seriously." He was OK with working for vampires as long as it meant his prolonged life. It's fair to say that his morals don't swing one way or another in a hard direction. Does that mean he'll sell out his comrades in arms? No. He's not a coward. He'll steal candy from kids if it means it gets the job done.

addict

"It's either smoke this cigarette, or I start fiending for your blood. How do I get it out? I think I have a letter opener? " It's fair to say that addiction runs in Frank's family. He's managed to circumvent it with work and cigarettes. Yet, amid his weird half-life, it's gotten even worse. Don't expect him to be able to concentrate if he's jonesing.

self-sabotaging

"I'm a louse of a person, so I deserve to live like one. To feed off the shine of everyone else." No one can put Frank down like he can. His life has been nothing but hollow accomplishments and bitter successes. So, he can't imagine a world where he emerges from a situation smelling of roses. No, it's going to mess up at some point.

callousness

"Everything we've ever loved or cherished has gone to shit. Why even try to find a silver lining?" Frank calls it "being a realist," but he's unnecessarily insensitive. There may be a nugget of truth in there somewhere, but it has the power to put someone in a shitty mood before they can find the positivity.

"Do you understand the violence it took to become this gentle?"

history.

Jonathan Sharp constantly looked for a better life at the bottom of a beer bottle. He never found one, but that didn't mean he didn't try again--and again and again. One day, when he lowered the bottle, his wife, Martha Sharp, and his son, Franklin Sharp, were gone. He never heard from them again. Yet, no matter how far Franklin ran from his father's shadow, it still stretched before him and coalesced with his own. Jonathan Sharp used to be one of the most well-regarded detectives in his territory, and he was known for catching the Red Curse Ripper. His downfall came in the form of bucking against the wrong people. You see, Jonathan Sharp had a heart of gold but a spine made of putty. The moment he was assigned to desk work, he conceded without another word. As much as Franklin didn't want to be the man, he inherited Jonathan's love of solving puzzles.

Franklin, called Frank by his friends, graduated with his criminology degree. He barely scraped by. Not because he wasn't intelligent enough to achieve honors but because cramped classrooms and the droning of professors did little to stimulate his mind. He then graduated from the Police Academy and quickly rose in the ranks. His sergeant would always say, "Good to see another Sharp in the force; just don't try the shit your father did." The shit his father did, turned out to be a case that he was compiling against a few head honchos in PD. They had been abusing their power like no one else. While many had retired, died, or both, their legacy remained intact. So, Frank did the exact thing he said he never would--his shadow practically became his father's. He got much further than Jonathan, getting internal affairs involved before he was "disgraced" and kicked from the force.

It took a lot for Franklin not to transform into a barfly that hovered around the corpse of his dead career. Instead, he got his private detective license. It wasn't glamorous work, but at least he didn't have to worry about the abuse of power within his office. His coworker, a bird named Hemingway, harassed him daily--but he was able to bribe him with seed and apples. Hemingway was the product of a strange case about a hoarder. No one would take the bird. Suddenly, Franklin was no longer an utterly alone bachelor. Occasionally, he considered dating, but every time he stood in front of the mirror and tried to find something redeemable about his appearance or mannerisms--he'd disgust himself. This was probably for the best. Because in the next couple of years, The Dark began.

Chattel, livestock, food, and blood bags were all words for what humans were now. Yet, there were a few that served a higher purpose. Though "higher" is a very subjective word. Frank was tapped to use his sleuthing skills to find dirt on vampires from other vampires. There were always these little webs of intrigue and backstabbing that Frank didn't give a shit about, but they were lucrative. Of course, after doing this for a while, he should have expected that his lack of autonomy would finally come to bear. He wasn't his own person--he was property.

Frank was investigating a vampire called Honorée Cousineau for another vampire whose name is not essential in this story. Unfortunately, it was a trap Frank should have known he was walking into. Using his signature "fuck things up until there's so much chaos I can escape or die trying," he managed to cause lasting damage to Honorée's entourage. Yet, he also sustained lasting damage to himself. He figured this was the end of his story. It was a miserable way to go out, but at least he hadn't drunk himself into a jaundiced bloated corpse. Instead, Honorée found Frank to be wildly interesting. She figured she had some open spots in her entourage, and she could use someone with flexible morals enough to work for vampires and a keen eye to find flaws in vampiric systems. She locked him in her "shoe" closet and kept him there for two days, feeding him blood and draining his. On the third day, the last day before he turned completely, Honorée didn't arrive. Frank was vaguely aware of the passage of time; noise from outside would rise and fade with the beginning and end of each "day." Maybe she'd gotten bored of him or had other plans. Frank found a stiletto with a metal heel. He'd heard of the torment of the half-changed, and he didn't want to experience that. He pressed the metal heel against his neck and held it there. Inevitably, he passed out--too chicken shit to end it all.

To say that he was surprised that his body didn't succumb to death was an understatement. Yet, not everything felt right. He couldn't feel his heart underneath his flesh; his organs felt rearranged, poking and curling in places they shouldn't be. His ribs felt like they were grinding into his hips, his lungs in the pit of his stomach, and his throat no longer connected to the rest of his body. Every movement was strange, as there was a fluidity to them there hadn't been before. Yet, with an unnatural need clawed at the back of his throat. That need was able to pull him from the darkness of his exhaustion and pain, and he tried to escape his "prison." The door was locked, yet when he applied a bit of force, the handle crumpled against the effort. Frank stumbled into a bedroom he had no memory of ever passing. A massive heart-shaped bed sat in the middle like a monument to a trashy class. The sheets were torn and ripped, and there was blood a bit everywhere--across the marble floors, along the painted white walls, and even on the vaulted ceiling. Furniture was broken all around him, and there was a desiccated corpse flung over the bed. Frank wanted to walk over to it and check to see if it was Honorée. Yet, his body walked him to the blood splatter that painted the wall. He licked it without thinking about what he was doing. Frank pulled away, disgusted at himself and the urge that consumed him. He needed blood.

This half-life crushed everything Frank had ever held dear. There were powerful, mean urges in his body, but they were tempered by his very human thoughts. He didn't know what to make of it. That confusion led him to a group that operated out of a Catholic Church. He was more than happy to offer his services, connections, and abilities in exchange for an answer to one question: "What the fuck was he?"

How and when did you join the group?

"Look, you're askin' me to give up my sources?" He chuckles dryly. "It'd be social, and well fuck, physical suicide to disclose this." He waves gently at his body as if that explains anything. "So, I wasn't goin' to ask any vampires, and humans had no idea. And I know better than most that there are canaries that will gladly sing to their oppressors for a few crumbs of acknowledgment. So, I had to find someone... somewhere... that could help me out. You turn over so many rocks you eventually get noticed by someone wonderin' why you're so interested in those rocks. That's how I ended up in the group. Which was around... three years ago?"

Do you trust everyone in the group?

"I don't know any of 'em from Adam or Eve. So, no." He then brings up a finger as if pausing himself in mid-thought. "That bein' said, there has to be a baseline level of trust for any of this to work out. Yet, if they feed my ego, I'll trust 'em more. What? What part of 'morally flexible' don't people understand?"

Can you take down the vampires?

"All of 'em? Probably not. I mean, this whole thing has to do with... magic. Right? I can't believe I'm sayin' 'magic' and 'vampires.' both words make sense in this day and age. I was just worried there might be another recession, not eternal night and things with fangs." He frowns. "I guess I'm a 'thing with fangs,' but I don't wanna talk about that. The simple answer is no. Complicated answer: why not try to succeed? You can't give up before you start."

filler