Post by Kriss ~Dimitre Nikita Shikov~ on Jan 15, 2010 16:19:06 GMT -7
† Dimitre - Nikita - Shikov †
†Nicki †
[/center]† General Information †
Full Name: Dimitre Nikita Shikov
Nicknames: He usually prefers to go by Nicki, if not by his real name.
Gender: Male
Race: Vampire
Age: 192
Age they appear: 19, give or take.
Occupation: Dimitre's occupation consists of anything to take up time, truly. He's a curious individual that prefers artwork more than most other things. He has a skill in painting.
Orientation: Straight
Health Problems: None other than his sensitivity to the sunlight.
† Personality †
Basic Personality: Dimitre is an interesting sort of fellow. Normally polite and contained, he doesn't take on the pretense of a particularly aggressive vampire. Age has provided an endless sort of patience for the world, and an almost constant dry amusement about it. Often times he's smiling about something or another, though usually it has a sly edge to it. He is quiet and thoughtful about nearly everything, never rushing into anything without thought about it first. Hostility isn't something he often pursues, but occasionally he will bare his fangs or act out in violence, though it takes a great deal to aggravate this vampire. Solitary in nature he usually doesn't reside in any sort of clan or family. In fact he normally avoids confrontations in which that could be an ending. Quick to neither anger, nor pity Dimitre is reserved and hardly ever goes out of his way to help another. His world revolves around selfishness, most of which isn't shown. And despite his not outwardly ventured hostility, he is a rather malicious being at times. He has a way of weaving words into lies or manipulative pretenses. He enjoys toying with humans in this manner, telling them lies that seem so truthful that they usually believe them, if one isn't keen on picking up the facade he throws up while doing this which is nearly unflawed. Dimitre has an almost catlike nature in his curiosity of things, and is willing to try just about anything as long as it's not fatal nor dangerous, but even when something may be either of these things he can still be willing to attempt it. He enjoys company, though hardly ever outwardly looks for one specific person to talk too, instead he looks to a variety of others if they're interesting enough. He's an inquisitive type of being that loves knowledge, and he loves leaning knew things. His life is concentrated around this and often times he makes things up as he goes along, being truthful to some, being a liar to others. He makes a good friend, whoever aloof he may be, but he can also become a dangerous enemy. Most of his battles lie in words, but he isn't afraid to become physical. In fact, he's rather dangerous in a fight if it comes down to it. He is respectful to those who earn his admiration, and is hardly ever rude. At times though, Dimitre turns rather sardonic and can be known to switch moods rather suddenly, depending on whoever he is conversing with at the time. One defining characteristic about him, is his joy in watching the emotional pains of humans or others of his kind. Love never ceases to bewilder the vampire, in fact it fascinates him in a sense. Something that makes him enjoy it even more, is when love is unrequited. All and all, the Dimitre is not much more than a curious sort of fellow, who is prone to doing what he wants when he wants, unrestricted by the laws of others.
Likes:
†Reading
†Knowledge
†Solitude
†Pain inflicted upon others.
†Manipulating emotions.
†Painting
†Artwork
†Beauty
†Death
†Unrequited love
Hates:
†Ignorance
†Being ordered
†Being pressured
†Being controlled
†Rudeness
†Stupidity
†Normalcy
†Love
Talents:
†Lying
†Manipulating people
†Putting on pretenses
†Acting kind
†Being polite
†He can be good in a fight, or normal brawl
†Finding information
†Acting on a whim
†Playing music, mostly the piano and violin.
Habits:
†Smiling when he doesn't feel amused, but out of bitterness or anger.
†Shifting his attention
†Correcting people
†Withholding his politeness even when being sarcastic of when insulting someone.
†Being nosy unabashedly
† Appearance †
Skin Color: Pale ivory.
Hair Color: Sandy blond.
Eye Color: A deep shade of emerald green.
Build: Dimitre's build is tall and lean.
Piercings/Scars/Tattoos: He has no noticeable scars, but he does indeed have a tattoo at the back of his neck of a black, rising sun.
Choice of Clothing: Normally, Dimitre doesn't try to appear as anything. Though he can find the money, he doesn't prefer nice cloths. In fact he usually wears nothing more than a faded pare of blue-jeans and a dark shirt.
Wolf Appearance: n/a
Other: None
† History †
History: Dimitre was born a human, but didn't stay one. He belonged to an aristocrat family that was higher up in the social hierarchy. Natural he was taut numerous things. He was given anything he wanted, if he wanted it and yet Dimitre hardly ever wanted anything. His parents, Anya and Gregori Shikov sometime worried about this. He almost seemed different than most boys his age. Subdued, thoughtful, quiet. Self-absorbed in his on world. There were some things, as a child Dimitre always wanted from his parents though and they gave it to him without question or hesitation.
Of course he didn't want what most little boys wanted. In fact that was hardly the case. His only requests consisted of art teachers, paints, and lessons of different kinds. He took piano lessons along with violin ones, playing with other instruments as well. He learned how to sketch roughly and how to pain almost anything he wanted too. The other thing he asked for was a variation in the languages he knew. He wanted to learn numerous different ones other than his native Russian tongue. Latin, English, French, among others. He was engulfed in his own learning and knowledge, surpassing far other children of his age. The Shikov's lost interest in their son's strange ways as he grew older, almost forgetting about him entirely it seemed. They had other children, and yet Dimitre was as he always was. Quiet and thoughtful, he was picked on by others often. Boys and girls alike ignored him for teh most part, other when they went to exceeding lengths to somehow anger him or frustrate him. And yet, Dimitre was never easily angered. Calm and reserved, he set out to ignoring them all absorbed in everything that he enjoyed.
Dimitre's siblings, Nesha and Jasha were both very different than him. The two girls were outgoing, and strived to be perfect for their parents and yet when it came to manners of politeness Dimitre always won out, no matter how hard they tried. He was charming, and just as polite as most of the adults at any social gathering. He did what was necessary, but hardly enjoyed this. Though his polite stoicism stuck throughout his life, and stayed in play. One night, at a party his parents were throwing he met a rather interesting individual whose skin was inexplicably pale, and who's cunning blue eyes were almost seemingly ageless. His name was Michelle, and he seemed to be amused by the young eighteen-year-old Dimitre before him. Amused by his silence, and inquisitiveness, and how more than anything else he was not ignorant nor unintelligent. Later that same night, he offered Dimitre to come with him to the places he traveled. Dimitre declined.
He went home that night, curious and thinking about the strange man who he had met. He wondered if he would later regret not taking him up on his offer, for reasons other than what later he truly regretted. Michelle came back the next night, when everyone save Dimitre was asleep. Dimitre was up late, sitting in the garden with a sketchpad in hand and a paint brush streaking lines across the formerly blank page. Michelle looked at him, with those ageless blue eyes and said quite abruptly breaking the silence that Dimitre had startled. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to come with me?" He inquired, lightly.
Dimitre reconsidered, but the answer was the same. Despite his quiet, uneventful life he had been happy. Michelle hadn't taken that for an answer though, and grabbed Dimitre by the hair pulling him from the bench so that both his paints and sketchpad fell across the ground. He had bit Dimitre's throat, infecting him with vampirism.
Michelle had left soon after, disappearing into the night with the words lingering in the air, "Come here again tomorrow night, if you reconsider."
Dimitre had been fallen on the ground, engulfed in endless pain. That night was a blur, but he remembered standing numerous ours later in a daze and stumbling to the house again, taking all that happened for a dream. Other than the burn in his throat.
That night Dimitre locked himself in his room, thinking that he was going mad. He thought over all the possibilities, though over everything with such precision one would wonder how he had made a mistake in the first place. That night he once more stumbled from the house, finding Michelle sitting cross-legged on the bench with his head thrown back towards the stars.
The elder vampire took Dimitre that night, and showed him how to feed. How to become a murderer. In truth, sense this day Dimitre always wondered why Michelle had chosen him. Why he had drawn attention to the vampire in the first place... perhaps it had been his quiet thoughtful nature in the first place. Perhaps that's what ended up killing his human self.
Dimitre became more and more twisted as time passed. That intellectual quietness stayed in place, but soon other things came up. Resentment towards the world, hatred, along with numerous other things. A malicious nature, and unreserved, impassionate killing of humans. He was never the same, and eventually he ended up killing Michelle as they traveled the world, and leaving on his own.
Dimitre became a loner, lost in his own solitude and silence. He killed, and he ran through the night. He was hardly human anymore, but as the years passed he became more restrained. More thoughtful than he ever had been before. Faced with immortal life, he began to realize he could do almost anything he wanted, and yet with this realization came a girl.
She was beautiful, quiet, filled with a contented solitude. He met her in London as he was passing through. It was a brief encounter, one that came just after sunset. She was beautiful. Raine, was her name and she was everything Dimitre could have ever asked for. Shy and self-contained, content with her silence and solitude. And she was beautiful, inexplicably beautiful for a human. And yet, she was a human. Whereas he was a bloodlusting creature that stalked the night, but despite himself and his own sudden self-loathing Dimitre pursued her. At first it came with flowers, and whispered notes along with drawings and paintings of beautiful things. As it was, she became wooed. She started responding with smiles, when finding his nameless notes or gifts. And yet all of them were nameless, none of them told of who he was nor what, for to Dimitre Raine seemed as delicate as a flower blooming in the early spring through the snow that still clustered on the ground. To him it was all so utterly breakable, everything could threaten to become wilted and dead with one mistake.
But he had to talk to her in person, he had to see her and have her see him as well. Dimitre told her in a note, which was given to her along with a bundle of red-petal roses to meet him in a secluded place.
And she listened, happy to finally meet the mysterious man who was giving her all of the notes, and when she saw him she was just as coy as she had been when they first met. With the realization that she had met him before, blush had spread across her features. But Dimitre merely smiled, and told her his name.
And so, they met more and more often, she entranced by his own beauty and utter strangeness, the aloof expression always withheld in his almost inhuman eyes. Not long after, he offered to marry her.
And she accepted, giddy with excitement. Only, all the while Dimitre's stomach had clenched with a sort of strange vertigo. It made him roll over his thoughts, his immortality and vampirism. He had killed before, and yet this girl was free of all sin. She was innocent, and Dimitre knew this. He knew he had to tell her what he was, and so upon their next secret meeting he told her. He had always before been careful to hide his smiles with this lips, had always been careful not to let his fangs show. He'd always been careful about showing anything that would suggest he was a vampire.
And so, he told her nervous and excited in the same instant. She had to be okay with it, she had to accept it. Of course though, Raine didn't. The poor girl stared wide-eyed at him, wordless before a scream had arisen in her through. She had struck out at him, striking him hard across the side of the face before she ran through the forest like a terrified deer... Only Dimitre hadn't given up. An overwhelming urge to make her understand overcame him, and he pursued easily catching her.
But she only screamed, ranking her nails across his face and drawing a short-lived stream of blood. Struck with grief and sorrow he had snarled at her, his fangs becoming in full fledged view. This only brought more fear to Raine, and she struggled harder against his grasp, striking him numerous times in the shoulder and chest with her fists. But she was too much like a fawn caught in a mountain lion's clawed grasp, and with each scream Dimitre grew madder, and madder, more hurt at her refusal to understand him. He loved her. He loved her so much, but that hadn't been enough. His almost animalistic instincts got the better of him, and Dimitre drew his hand back and swatted her across the cheek with his inhuman strength.
Only he hadn't intended to harm her, in fact he hadn't intended any true pain at all. He knew a vampire could have taken that blow, but she wasn't a vampire. Her neck tilted at an unnatural direction, and a wet snap sounded in the air. Her beautiful eyes rolled back to the whites and her struggling body had become limp. Dimitre's mouth fell agape in complete and utter horror, and he dropped her lifeless form.
In shock he backed away, and ran. He ran fast and hard into the darkness as though he could run away from her, from the look in her eyes as he held her. As the look in her eyes as he killed her. It had been an accident, he hadn't meant too. But it was too much like the nursery rhyme. All the king's horses, and all the kings men would never put Raine back together again...
Dimitre, read in newspapers about her death. He saw in the sorrow of her families tear-brimmed eyes. He felt it weighting down his unbeating heart, and despite all of this the vampire couldn't quite bring himself to leave.
There was nothing keeping him there anymore, nothing. He used to love to travel, and yet he couldn't bring himself to leaving the place in which so many bittersweet memories remained. He became more bitter than ever before, more bloodthirsty and malicious. He came to withhold a bitter resentment for anything that was similar to affection or love.
And so, Dimitre came to stalk the streets of London like a ghost trapped in the memories of the past.
Mother/Father: Anya and Gregori
Siblings: Nesha and Jasha
Offspring: None
Other: None
† RP example †
See Aleksei.
† Let's talk about you †
Name: Kriss
Other Characters: Aleksei.
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