Post by frosty on Apr 2, 2010 6:12:11 GMT -7
† Julian - Maximilian Aleixandre – Frost III †
†The Mad Hatter†
[/center]† General Information †
Full Name: FROST, Julian Maximilian Aleixandre III
Nicknames: Frosty | Queen London | Mad Hatter
Gender: Male
Race: Vampire
Age: 205
Age they appear: Late Twenties – Early Thirties
Occupation: Theatre Actor, Musician and Model
Orientation: Pansexual
Health Problems: Xeroderma Pigmentosum, Histrionic Personality Disorder, Dissociative Identity Disorder
† Personality †
Basic Personality: Brilliant yet insane in nature. A most dangerous creature once let into his expanded circle. Julian is crazed, a mad man but yet honored and respected for his work and accomplishments. He bears no line between what is right and wrong but instead nestles in-between the cracks, watching as chaos fills the streets. Giving out information as it crosses pass his theatre to stir up more drama to complete his endless playwright, as the city’s people are his pawns and the headmen, his lead stars.
Julian is obsessed with the arts and as he grows older, the obsession grows harder within his ticking mind and with the IQ of a successful serial killer, he’s one you’d want on your good side when you’re having a bad day. Though his personality is split between all his stage roles, he seemingly has a natural tendency to switch roles at the right time. Meaning he’ll be the perfect business man in terms of business and a direct replica of Casanova through times of pleasure and pain. He is like the ultimate weapon but his state his neutral between the battle of werewolves and vampires, and he requires no payment other than the success of his plays and music.
This man is highly sexual in terms of his needs but though his needs as a man is clear, his appetite is a rather large palette to fill. Like a fine wine, he takes nothing but the best, usually choosing from promising young-inspiring artists and natural beauties and once he gets his hands on them, his natural attraction towards them becomes an addiction and sometimes an obsession to the point of where he’ll never let them go. So, the term “Skeletons in the closet” may not be too far off from the truth as he’ll keep a memoir to each of his loves buried away within his junk of belongings from throughout the years of his damnation.
Likes:
† Masochism
† Visual and Performing Arts
† Historical People & Events
† Praise Over Appearance or Work
† Bringing Out The Inner “Artist” In People
† Fashion
† Large Gatherings
† Challenges
† Rivals
† Drama
† Twists in Plotlines
† Classical & Dark Music
† Playing String Instruments
Hates:
† Failure
† Lack of Attention
† Bright Lights
† Slutty Women
† Being Disturbed
† When Photographers Forget to Turn Off The Flash
† Actors Wasting His Time
† Poor Singers
† Manipulative Children
† The Olsen & Simpson Twins (Don’t Ask)
Talents:
† Visual and Performing Arts
† Deception and Deceit
† Sly Tongue
† Drama Queen
† Female Charmer
† Acting to the Situation
† Networking & Underground Communications
† Science & Physics
† Cosmetology
† Strong Tolerance to Poor Blood
Habits:
† Speaking in Third-Person or Riddles & Rhymes
† Laughing/Talking to Himself
† Stalking His Interests
† Inappropriate Sexual Behavior
† Split Personalities
† Touching People
† Brutally Honest
† Appearance †
Skin Color: Ivory
Hair Color: Naturally Platinum Blonde but Varies
Eye Color: Pale Blue but Varies
Build: Portioned, Slender and Toned
Piercings/Scars/Tattoos: None
Choice of Clothing: Edgy, Historical, Business Suits and Industrial Fetish
Wolf Appearance: ----
Other: Standing at a huge six foot-seven inches, Julian takes up after his abnormal, light-haired, Italian father but with his slender curves, his body mostly comes from his (also tall) mother who was native born of UK soil with the same blonde-hair, blue eyes. He has the body of a slender Roman sculpture and naturally, he’d have the body of a model. His body represents perfection to go along with his perfectionist persona, so for once, on rare occasion, the book does mean the same as its cover.
† History †
History: From where did the crazed damnation arise? Surprisingly, he was not born so ‘demented’, he was created. Julian was born of his unwed mother in beautiful Siena, Italy in the year 1991. At the moment, she was merely a student on tour throughout the country for a two year internment to get more of an insight of the business life of other European countries outside of her homeland of the UK. Monalyn met her future husband on her fourth month of visit and started a rather heavy relationship from the start through a series of nightly dates in the fanciest of restaurants and boat rides up and down the Po River under candle lit buildings and lanterns. One could say it was love at first sight between the business rookie and senior.
Six months into her pregnancy, she would marry the wealthy business man and put her studies on a permanent hold as she and her new husband relocated back to the UK to both tell her stunted parents the news and also to have a second wedding, this time inviting family members, after Julian Maximilian Lucifer Frost III was born. From that moment on everything seemed to run pretty smoothly for the most part, although there was still some disappointment on Monalyn’s side of the family for the fact that she dropped out of the university for a man that she barely even knew and later on even got pregnant by him. Though there was a natural love connection that seemed to settle the family’s nerves as they watched the connection between them over the years as child number two came into the world.
Cassandra, just as beautiful as her older brother and mother was welcomed into the world with open arms but just as she was taking her first steps, disaster would strike upon her sibling. A rare and non-common disease that ran in Monalyn’s family struck Julian with full blown force at the age of 6, forcing him away from the sunlight and any other bright lights. Xeroderma Pigmentosum, was what it was called. It made it painful for Julian to be revealed to the sun over the short period of more than a few seconds and as a result, special illuminated lights were needed to replace all of the those within their household. Ripped away from his private school, he was taken away to be homeschooled in a more secluded environment.
The disease didn’t fare too well with his father as he wanted nothing more than healthy children, so thoughts of handing him over to one of his siblings back in Italy came to conversation on numerous occasions, only to end up as a one-sided argument, leaving Monalyn broken down into tears with a stubborn passion to keep her family together as she made a point that Cassandra was still a healthy-bouncy baby girl of whom just turned into a toddler and still needed her older brother’s love and affection; Which was easily proven considering how much she ran up to her brother than any other member of the household. So, after months of arguing and debating, the topic dropped but Julian II would still hold a slight grudge against his son, even though it was not his fault.
Years passed, Julian III turned 11 and his little Cassie was a talkative age of 4 and was just starting to experience the first steps of Pre-School upon other children in the same private school of which Julian went to. Although, he bore no grudges or held jealousy against her for he loved her unconditionally but his only regret was the fact that he couldn’t watch over her as closely or pick her up from school like many other older siblings did when it came to their little brothers and sisters. It was slightly depressing but just as long as his sister smiled, he was happy and when she cried, he was there for comfort and looked for revenge afterwards towards the source of her despair. He was overprotective of his family and it was a trait he picked up after his father after he witnessed his father lash out at a man physically flirting with his mother while she was still pregnant with Cassandra.
It was Julian’s parents anniversary and they wanted to do something special this time around, so his father planned for them to go to Italy for a weekend to revisit some of the places they went to back when they were still dating. Normally, when they went out, Julian and Cassandra would be given to a local family member but their grandparents were ill at the time and they didn’t think it would be safe for Julian to travel and with Cassandra’s motion sickness, planes would be a bad idea. So, for the first time in a long while, they were given off to a nanny, their neighbor for over 10 years to be exact. Julian never really liked the woman but he wasn’t going to be paying much attention to her either way and he knew that the house maids would still be around to keep him and his sister company, so he didn’t think he’d have to deal with her either way.
Though first judgments proved to be his downfall, the housemaids decided to go out early for the evening, leaving the two young children alone with a young woman who didn’t even seem to have all her screws properly tightened when people weren’t watching her. To Julian, she was the real one who needed to be watched over, not the other way around but he couldn’t do much but hope that this woman would keep to herself and let him do all the work, while he watched her from the corner of his eye.
Things were running smoothly for the most part during the first couple of hours but as the evening grew darker and darker, the house went silent to the point of where the only sounds that could be heard were the harsh winds blowing up against the windows and blowing the chimes against the windowsill. Everyone was sound asleep, well, you would’ve thought, but out of nowhere the harsh sounds of high pitch squeals and wails filled the air and jolted everyone from out of their slumber.
A million thoughts filled Julian’s head as he raced to his sister’s room to see her missing from her bed. Rushing downstairs, his heart was beating wildly in his chest as the scream of one of the maids soon hit his ears. Not knowing what was going on, shouting and screaming was now at a full uproar. Dashing off towards the living room at full speed as his white socks slid against the wooden floors, the breath was almost knocked out of him as one of the house staff ripped him by the arm to try and keep him from going any further towards the small crowd. Still he went for the advance but soon froze in his place as blood leaked towards his direction and his Cassie was nowhere in his reach.
She was killed, brutally murdered without cause and when the court date arose, the corrupt babysitter plead innocent for actions of the insane and she was acquitted as such, neither going to prison but to a psychiatric ward for those of the criminally insane. Her cause? Her fiancé left her for a man and that night Cassandra gave her comfort but instantly ripped it away as she claimed to want to go with her brother; A case of a social disorder and the start of Julian’s addiction and obsession.
His parents raved about it for weeks, their household was never the same, nor would his father bear to look at him the same way. For once there was a look of piteous compassion of knowing that he was his only child left and the look wasn’t reflected back as Julian III saw it as a sign of weakness and instead of focusing so much on his family as a whole, his mind was more focused on the case itself revolving around his sister. It wasn’t right and the only reason the woman managed to escape justice was for the mere fact that she was a premature actress and a drama queen. So, as Julian thought about it, his mind dawned onto the fact that a lot could be done with just the switching of persona.
And so he was drawn in…
Studying theater, the arts, narcotic involvements in the human system, previous con-artists, whatever; He was bound to his room, only to come out for bits and pieces of food, tutoring and hygiene (if he remembered or was forced to). He was absolutely obsessed as he started sketching and started his reign of deception, using his own family and visitors of the household as his testing dummies. Starting off with small lies and gradually working his way up to larger lies of game, including lies of the heart, as a result causing his aunt and uncle of 22 years to divorce over a ‘cheating affair’ involving a mistress and neighborhood gentleman that never existed.
Julian was clever and sly, and over time he knew it and so, instead of wandering into the science field of which his family had hoped, he studied in the arts and stage theater the moment he enrolled in the local university’s night time course. Though always in the back of his classes, near the window, he stayed far away from the lights and daydreamed about his own ambitions, only tuning into the class when he was called upon to answer something of which he already knew. It was all pointless to him after a while and it wasn’t feeding into his data-processing mind. So, forcing himself through two years of the babbling nonsense with perfect grades, he finally managed to catch a nightly audition for a play. Seeing the potential to learn, he applied for a role, any role, male or female, he was determined to see how these people’s minds ticked and how they could jump between characters.
He was easily intrigued how easily they switch roles in the middle of their stage play try-outs with little or no preparation and like a moth to the flame; he was dragged into the spotlight. All his knowledge in the past hit him all at once like a ton of bricks. He was told to act and as if controlled by another, fate would have his sister’s court case return to the present. Ripping back and forth between the jury, the judges and the defendant, he was a one-man show, changing his tone of voice and expression as all eyes were drawn to him. And after ten minutes of what was suppose to be an only two minute introduction, chills were sent down the spines of everyone in the room as the words “He didn’t love me!” echoed throughout the theater halls.
He received one of the male leads and with that part he started his mindless journey. Doing side gigs on the side until he was recognized, he lived as all his characters to perfect every role. When he was a womanizer, he womanized. A car dealer? He walked up to a random lot and attempted to sell cars. A drug addict? He did the drugs and then some, even sleeping his way around to the point of where he developed a name for himself underground. And the only thing we have to be thankful for, is for the fact that he wasn’t issued the role of a rapist or murderer, yet.
Time would fly and his career name was set in stone. Offered parts in movies and other areas of television, he would deny over the years as he would tell the world, “My only love is for the stage; One time to perfect it to the crowd and leave a lasting impression on my fans and viewers.” And he was stated on that statement for months of newspapers and internet articles to come. He was a rising star and with his age, his popularity only grew until one day, he would face his biggest challenge yet.
April 24th 2019
It was to be Julian’s 28th year among the living and it was the bringing of the Springs of Arts, and for the play of the season, it was to be that of another world. He was to play a vampire in the revamped playwright, "Cirque Du Freak: The Vampires Assistant". How exactly was he supposed to recollect that of a vampire? He didn’t know but he tried to experiment by drinking the blood from donors and his inability to roam amongst the day had been such second nature to him that it didn’t feel natural for him at all to try and see his place among the damnation.
The entire thing drove him mad as he locked himself into his dressing room tossing things around every which where direction and roaring out in anger at anyone who disturbed him. It wasn’t until late in the night did he settle himself down enough to set out for a walk. Though as he stepped out into the alleyway, instead of being greeted with the usual blank openness, he was abruptly stared down by an odd looking group of individuals who were almost as pale as he was but with a more vacant and devious expression to match their skin. The look in their eyes was pure mischief as they looked at a random flyer and then back at him.
“Eh, tis seems like we have ourselves a bit of a celebrity on our hands!” The shorter one of three spoke with a heavy slang-like British accent, one a bit too deep for the standard UK citizen. Quirking an eyebrow, they all looked up at the pale, almost glowing, gentleman. “If I didn’t know any betta, I’d think you’d already be dead!” A riot of laughter, leaving Julian with a blank expression at first before mellowing out into a look of mild confusion.
“I am not in the mood for fan club signings, I have things to do-“
“And we’ve come to answer all your little problems, Frosty Bear!” The nickname made him cringe as he was suddenly degraded down to a mere snow globe animal but instead of allowing his allowance to ink his features, he remained silent and waited for this little lunatic to speak his fill. “We’re here to handle your little vampire issue,” and as if on cue, the small party started rioting of laughter again.
Julian dropped his lip to speak but the moment the words were about to leave his lips, he found himself hitting the dirty ground with a hard collision of his head meeting the pavement, knocking the air from his lungs on the way down. He naturally struggled, even before he could recover from the hard blow to the head, but he was powerless against the ‘little people’ of whom he towered over without much of an issue and now he was suddenly being over powered by them as they laughed and giggled, reminding him numerous playwrights in the pass of the insane crowd attacking the local bystander. Though why was he thinking of theatre in a situation like this? He must’ve hit his head harder than he imagined.
Swearing up a variety of colorful languages, varying between Italian and British-English, he only made the laughing party grow louder as he found himself growing intrigued by their unexplained insanity. “Ahaha! You’ve always wanted the experience of your role, well, now you get to experience it first-hand!” Patting a messy and yet foul smelling kiss on Julian’s cheek, he continued. “Alas, I be offerin’ a one-time opportunity and fuck me, if ya live this, I’m sure you’ll be the life of the party, Snowflake!” With that, the laughter continued and with a rapid action, the man’s fangs(?!) sank into his throat, sending piercing pains throughout his body.
All at once, his life seemed to flash before his eyes within an instant and the only thing that kept running through his mind was scientific reasoning for all of this and how their behavior could be explained as a series of bacteria and other matter ripped through his system. Then on another note, he pictured his play role as a vampire and began to think of the transformation as all his organs and limps tightened up and inflamed, forcing more and more color into his face and neck as he was being drank dry. Roaring out in pain was the only thing he could do as his body began to spasm on its own accord.
Not knowing what was happening, he went mad with confusion and anger as he tried to fight away the pain that was ripping throughout his system. It felt like his flesh was slowly being ripped apart from his bones and as he shouted, no one would seem to come to his aid and assistance as his attackers laughed their way into the theatre and into his dressing room., dragging him along for the ride. Tying him down to his own studio chair with stage costumes and props, they gagged him with his favorite silk shirt and proceeded to rummage through his belongings, even stealing the contents of his wallet.
Blasting old classical music in the room, they were mocking him in his time of pain and agony, at any moment his heart felt like it was going to explode or his mind was going to suddenly rupture as he neared his peak. He had no idea what was going to happen but as far as he was concerned, he was about to die, though for him, it would happen in more ways than one.
The laughing party only stuck around for a little bit more than an hour before giving him farewell kisses and promising to come to his funeral. Enraged, tears fumed in his eyes as he rocked his chair back and forth, eventually to collapse down upon the hard wood floors. His cell phone managed to fly out of his jacket pocket but with no avail, he couldn’t reach it. Expecting nothing but the worse, the cleaning crew was gone for the evening, he was honestly going to die and no one was going to find him until the next day, and out of all of this, his only regret was never perfecting the most perfect playwright.
Soon all pain just ceased to exist and all there was left was his slowing heartbeat, beating loudly in his ears, as he started to feel cold and numb as the after effects of pain flooded out of his body to the point of where he would clinically die and the only thing that remained was pure hunger and a needless obsession that grew even larger as the musical symphonies blossomed and he lost all touch of what was reality and what wasn’t. Just exactly who he was and how he suddenly came to be and with the challenges to adapt and conquer on his plate, he would loose contact with humanity, along with losing his mind to the arts and to find his golden ticket to creating the best known piece known to man.
Mother/Father: Julian Maximilian Aleixandre Frost II (Died at 97) & Monalyn Emile Frost (Died at 92)
Siblings: Cassandra Frost (Murdered at 4)
Offspring: Two young actresses and two scouting informants (female and male)
Other: Bringing up point of his life may trigger an old personality or spark up a new one
† RP example †
World of Darkness Role Play – Warning for blood and gore
World of Darkness Role Play – Warning for blood and gore
Dancing around in her blood covered clown costume; she sat along side of the once living body on the press as the machine suddenly stopped working, probably from the large amounts of bodily liquids flowing into the machinery. Shaking her head at the irony as the place that suppose to tell the stories will soon be apart of the stories they write, a smile merely graced her lips as she bathed her hands into the blood that stained the railings of the machine so fully. It was just a shocker no one could hear the man's screams, oh his screams—the screams that would remain in her dreams as they bring a smile on her face.
Yet the reason remains unknown as she caressed the mangled face within her palms and began to claw her fingernail deep into the flesh of his cheek and play with his nearly departed tongue, as she mangled to detangle the remaining strains of muscles from their proper order and completely severed the rest of the limp from it's place of origination. Her curiosity grew as she played endlessly with the detached tongue—holding it in her hand she grew interested in how such a feeble man with just blunt teeth could possibly break through the muscles of his own organs, and how such bitten and chewed on nails could have done such damage to his body in a moment of insanity.
Was insanity that deadly? Was he just a weak man, when she only gave him a taste of her essence? The questions roamed through her careless mind as her thoughts trailed off about fairies and games, as the musical lyrics played within her mind, along side of the thoughts and quotes of her fellow Malkavian kin. The madness, the insanity, the lustful bloodlust, was her weakness and yet her greatest strength as she adores the insanity that flowed through her veins and pumped so loudly in her ears. It was the taste that she so craved and that she so feared, as sometimes her mind screams for release from her bloodlust while on the outside she cries and laughs in enjoyment—something so simple and yet so complex, as her mind was nothing more than a broken never-ending maze without a beginning or end, while it traps it's victims in a moment of hell, pleasure, confusion, pain, and/or all of the above.
Sliding down the ram she stood up and removed a piece of torn flesh and bone from her costume with a beaming smirk on her face, as she tilted her head back and began to hauntingly sing one of her more favorite childhood songs. Spinning around in circles with the tips of her heels as her hair crowded her face with a sea of soft onyx strands, she giggled out loud as her moments of enjoyment echoed throughout the dark halls of the printing and publishing.
"Ring around the rosy… Pocket full of poesies, ashes, ashes and we all fall down." Falling to the ground with a soft thump, she looked around innocently as she pulled herself back up and looked around with curiosity, as heard the soft steps of a wandering kin. Her eyes drifted left and right as the blinked and wondered why would a child of the night be wandering around in the halls of the closed newspaper company? "Aye thy frail endurance of the crimson life's river pools from one's veins, to draw its luring predator." She spoke out loud, as she swayed left and right into random directions.
As the steps came closer and closer, her face turned towards the door separating the machinery from the rest of the journalist offices as she waited to meet the pale face of her new not-far dead company—Watching as he looked at her, she returned the look with the same amount of oddness as she watched his movements through darting black eyes.
“This is how newspapers are made, eh?” He stated rather loudly, as Amelia just tilted her head to the side in wonder towards the kin that graced himself with his appearance at such a time in the night. Sniff ever so slightly as the smell of torn flesh seemed to grow stronger with his presence, but alas she couldn't help but return the grin as she retook her seat amongst the scratched off flesh and pints of blood that stained the floors and continued to drip off of the ramp and down the sides of the printing press.
Licking her fingers as she played with the flower on her chest, she looked around innocently as she merely blinked. "Alas, the news of those who know least to spread their words by the means of stalking and bribing to get a moral, a story of which one can benefit—alas, myth or fact, it’s merely the same, when I have no need for such a childish game of mixing words that near not make sense, when one has been vowed to never make sense when our words merely confused, as our shared thoughts share a reason.
"Here lies the grave of man driven insane for the knowledge that he so gained to the equal abilities of fame. Lies of what he so gained with his trickery today, as his birth is his death and his wife will be one too had wept. Oh woe is me, oh woe was thee, without the chance in Hell to say 'I love thee,' a passion for a talent and yet so easily wasted, as his body was so easily tasted amongst the filth and dirt hast to thy offer." Purring as she told her tale as the meaning to her opinion towards the machinery and the man with his greatest weakness of satisfaction. "Oh do fair well to the bastards own jail, as his scalp is torn, his arm is mangled and pulled, his flesh lay in strips and bury all over the floor, as he saw Hell in it's smallest form as I was no longer a prize to him but a plagued gift of death—
"Such an honest living, such a frail living, were men and women die for nothing; just for a story that never came true, well now the times hast change—when the writer of the story is the story and his peers can truly gain." Finishing up her lines of riddles and metaphors, she lay down against the rumble and bathed in the reporter's blood, as the ironic ring from his wife now echoed through the halls.[/size]
† Let's talk about you †
Name: //Phantom
Other Characters: ----
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