Post by Wild on Apr 7, 2007 22:19:25 GMT
Name: Theodorus Dio Del Tramonto.
Nickname: Theo
Last name means: god of the Sunset
Appearance Age: 19
True Age: 510
Physical Appearance: Its in his intro
Weapons: Teeth, claws, anything he can pick up at a good distance?
Personality: Kind and charming. A lover of teh lady's to a great extreme. He hides all of his emotions and he becomes viley angry if he is interupted or contridicted by a guy. He does not hit or hurt girls, full stop. He also only drinks Femal blood, but he could kick a guys ass from here to catmandu only to prove a point. His emotions are couvered, all that he doenst want you to see he doesnt let you see but other than that.... Well, emotions are always big and together. Unless... Some things need to be secrets.
History:
He is a strange creature really. He is what would be described as a Cat Demon Vampire. His father was a vampire, only after his mother turned him into one though, as was his mother. But seeing as his father was a lover of a great many women, one of them happened to be a cat demon, she gave him a baby born at the same moment same hour same day as theo, but her child died, and as a test they merged the spirits together, to see if they could empower a vampire with a demon, and it worked unfortunatly. It worked too well.
His emotions are technically double the normal persons. Douvle the anger, douoble the hate, double the love, double the hding it all under the pretty coat.
He fell in love with almost ever girl he drank from, he turned a few bt they always seemed to dissapear. He was not the kind of person you ever really stop loving once you have started to love him, Like a god, or the ideal of one at least.
Intro:(I know its crap)
o longer mourn for me when I am dead
Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell
Give warning to the world that I am fled
From this vile world with vilest worms to dwell:
Nay, if you read this line, remember not
The hand that writ it, for I love you so,
That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot,
If thinking on me then should make you woe.
O! if, I say, you look upon this verse,
When I perhaps compounded am with clay,
Do not so much as my poor name rehearse;
But let your love even with my life decay;
Lest the wise world should look into your moan,
And mock you with me after I am gone.
He had a name, although he hated it and believed it was possibly the worst name ever created; it was his real name. It was Theodorus. What a mouthful! I mean its hardly going to win votes no matter the century? And so he went by a different name, shorter easier to remember and generally more pleasing. He went by Theo, and that wasn't about to change!
He was truly handsome. I mean beautiful (well as male standards go...) although it is a hard thing to describe without the listener having seen such a beautiful person before? He was Italian from origin, and it showed. Tanned skin, olive coloured and striking against the dark cut of his brow and the strong prominent cheekbones. His jaw was square and his nose long.
His teeth were longer than most about twice the length of an average canine. From about a halfway down the sparking ivory stopped and began into a strange blood coloured stone. For you seer his name, which one must not speak, was a rare type of jasper. A mix between leopard and blood jasper named as he was. That was the strange liquid like set stone that tipped his fine teeth.
His eyes, you may of been thinking why I had not yet mentioned them. They were unimaginable. That is why, they were deep rust brown, like dyed blood, flecked with yellow and some blue. They were the most dangerous element of this amazing male. For they were what hooked the bait, the thing that his kind possessed. More beautiful than normal means and hypnotising. They were his power...
He was wearing a tight white top. It was not supposed to be tight but it was. Bulging under the muscles he had built over the past 510 yrs, though he looked 19. And tight black leather trousers with Armani shoes on. The kind of male that looked good no matter what he was wearing. He looked rather like a kalivn klien underwear model, with washboard abs just visible through his top, and strong biceps.
The simple words, that fell from his lips, so simple indeed but when clothed in his deep rolling Italian accent seemed to become so much more. Dipped in honey dripping from a silver spoon, lovely sounds and as pleasing to here as the first bird song of spring. They were the words that made your heart melt.
He was more than a man. More than a vampire or a Demon. He was a lover.
Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
So do our minutes hasten to their end,
Each changing place with that which goes before
In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
Nativity, once in the main of light,
Crawls to maturity, wherewith, being crowned,
Crooked eclipses 'gainst his glory fight
And Time that gave, doth now his gift confound.
Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth,
And delves the parallels in beauty's brow,
Feeds on the rarities of natures truth,
And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow;
And yet, to times, in hope, my verse shall stand,
Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.