Post by Jack Ashcroft on Aug 2, 2009 17:06:26 GMT -5
Name: Jack Ashcroft
Age: 1084 Years Old (Appears to be 25)
Member Group:(if you choose human, please say what kind of human...or a shifter, what kind of shifter, etc.) Vampire
Character History:
Over a thousand years ago, in Northern Europe, Jack was born. At least that is the name he goes by today, the name his parents gave him he has long forgotten. He was known as Thorstein, the son of a noble family who were wealthy because of his father's profession as a royal house carl, a bodyguard to the king. Ulric, his father, died soon after Thorstein was born. Killed by a spear through the eye and an axe which smashed his heart in two. Fortunately Thorstein's family was wealthy enough to survive for a time and Thorstein lived well enough.
On his tenth birthday he was rewarded with his Father's sword and he began to train to become a house carl. His skill with a blade and spear was excellent and he soon became a wanted soldier by his fifteenth birthday. After fighting a number of small battles for his king, Halfdan, he soon found himself on a long boat heading to the shores of England to establish himself as a true Viking warrior.
The raid was successful, so successful that Halfdan took over a large section of England know as Northumbria for himself and declared himself king of the region. Thorstein was now in his early twenties and life was good, he was a well paid warrior in a group of house carls who were deemed to be unstoppable.
Though Thorstein was a rare warrior, someone who possessed a power which had thought to have been killed off. He was a berserker, a warrior who could ignore pain when frenzied and maul and murder tens at will. In battle he was unstoppable, he was a killing monstrosity who no warrior could stop. Though Thorstein was a different kind of berserker, he had some control. Some. There were times when the world blacked out and he would awake to find blood all around.
However Halfdan was an exceptionally cruel king and eventually the locals revolted. There was a battle in which the locals outnumbered the Vikings greatly and Halfdan was killed. Now when a lord is killed in battle it is expected that the house carls die defending his body. Slowly but surely the house carl troop were picked off and so was Thorstein. Or so he thought. Hours after the battle Thorstein awoke among the bodies of the dead. Peasants and thralls were looting the bodies of the dead for precious silver and swords.
He pushed a body from his chest and though he was covered in blood, he himself was unharmed. All he had suffered was a crack to the skull knocking him unconscious for an hour. He removed his helmet to find an axe in-bedded in the top, the blade narrowly missing his skull, but had broken the skin. Blood trickled down his face and he realised he was alive from the pain.
He gave an almighty scream to the Gods above, asking why he had been denied Valhalla and why he could not join his brothers in the Golden Hall. Fate, it seemed, had played a cruel trick. He would be disgraced should he return home for not carrying out his duty. His cry to the gods attracted the attention of the locals and they could not understand either why he lived. The few peasants grabbed their spears and axes and charged Thorstein. He gathered his sword and shield and in a fit of rage killed everyone before him.
Months passed and eventually Thorstein found himself in Norway, unable to return home to Denmark in case he was recognised by family or friends and pressed on why he did not die in battle when he should have.
In Oslo he made a farm stead home and tried to live his days as best he could. He met a woman, Esa, whom he loved. They married and had two boys, Tyr and Sigurd. Thorstein was welcomed into Esa's family and for a time life was good again. He worked the farm and looked after his family well. Though in the town there was another who lusted after Esa, a man named Ulf. Ulf and Thorstein would compete in festivals in feats of strength and each time Thorstein would win and upstage Ulf's attempts at impressing the local women, mainly Esa.
Frustrated by his advances on Esa producing nothing Ulf took action worthy of only a thrall. Ulf, while drunk, attempted to rape Esa in her own home. She struggled and Ulf threatened to murder her sleeping children if she did not "amuse" him. She complied and they slept with each other in Thorstein's bed. As soon as the pair had finished Thorstein returned, his eyes ablaze at the sight before him. Ulf and Esa did their best to calm his choler but it was no good, Thorstein had gone berserk again drew his sword and murdered them both.
In his fit of rage Thorstein torched the house and watched everything burn. Then the cries of his children reached his ears. In his fury and anger he had forgotten his children and now they burnt alive in the house. The flames barred his entrance to save them and the cries died. Thorstein was hunted by his father in law and was forever labeled "Kinslayer", the worst possible name for a Viking man.
Months passed and Thorstein was continually hunted by his father in law until eventually he was found sleeping. Thorstein should have been killed yet again. He was tied to a tree, naked, and a flurry of arrows pierced his flesh. Yet again death did not accept him and for days he stood, tied to the tree with arrows plunged in his chest. Somehow he still lived, air still filled his lungs, but he knew that eventually death would catch him, he could only escape for so long.
But then something happened that he did not expect. One wind swept night, with a storm brewing in the south, a figure approached the bloody tree and the naked man slowly dying. Thorstein coughed up blood and did not ask for help, he knew he deserved death for what he had done, but again the fates saw different. A woman approached, dressed in a flowing linen dress, which at first he thought to be red, but as she came closer he realised it was not dye. It was blood. It covered her face and stained her clothes.
She grinned at him and licked at the blood seeping from his many wounds. She soothed his soul with soft words and filled his mind with false hood, how Thorstein deserved revenge on his father in law for what they had, she knew of Ulf and of his past. Thorstien could hardly believe his ears.
"I know you Thorstein Kinslayer, and I want you." Was all she said. Thorstien had no choice and was soon changed into a vampire.
His life from that point was a constant berserk rage. He was like a mad dog, under control by his mistress. Any request she made that would quell his hunger he would gladly accept and charge off to maim and kill hundreds. In the years that followed he murdered many and got his revenge on his father in law. Blood was all he knew now. Of course, that was what he was taught to know by his mistress who used him as a weapon.
Centuries passed and Thorstein forgot his name through the constant bloodshed and feeding. He loved his life so much and had almost reverted back to a feral state.
During the 1400s his mistress went missing. He was alone in the world and now, without direction, he was lost. Perhaps it was a cruel trick by his mistress but the "trick" would last for over 600 years, as he has still not found her. Alone and for the first time afraid he found himself becoming fair more cautious. Before with his mistress at his side, giving him praise and reward, he was an unstoppable monster. Now he was tame.
Centuries again passed and for that time he kept a low profile, feeding when he had to and integrating himself back into society. Now and again he would be forced into hiding because of his berserk rage building. He would run into the forest and take his fury out on defenseless animals. He attended balls, involved himself in the politics of man, only for a brief moment of course as he could not be seen at day, and soon taught himself how to live as a human once again.
It was not until the 20th century that he adopted the name he goes by this day. It was also in this century that he finally came to fully control his rage, he no longer needed to hide away to release the build up of pressure. During the 1930s, in the prohibition period, he would walk the streets, picking off drunken women exiting from speakeasies. It was easy and no one really missed them. But one man, who guarded one of the speakeasies caught him in the act. He called him Jack, a name the man referred to everyone. Quickly of course he murdered him as well, but the name seemed to fit.
Jack would swap his last name around from town to town to avoid the police and other authorities, but he liked the name Jack.
These days his name is Jack Ashcroft. And he is a tamed monster. For now.
Personality:
Currently Jack is trying to better himself and so he finds himself trying to switch to Tru Blood instead of picking off hapless drunks that no one will miss, but the taste of real blood is all he has known and so he will slip in to his old ways.
As a person Jack can be very friendly to other vampires. He tries to be as pleasant as he can be to other people, including humans, though a part of him only sees them as food on legs. He has a sad melancholy about him for his mistress who is still unfound, and will sometimes slip into a depression about her. He wishes nothing more than to find her, but usually keeps this to himself as he views it as a sign of weakness.
He is loyal to the vampire way as he fully embraces his life, and though he is older than most, he stays within the rules of the vampire monarchy.
Future Plans for your character Still looking for his mistress, though he has all but given up hope, so he will likely see what life has in store for him.
Have you read the books No
Sample RP
Jack sipped the warm bottle of O Negative and glanced at the calender on the wall. It was this day things changed, the day she left. She was his everything, his mistress, his maker. He had an un-rivaled love for her which he would never forget and he would never forget what she did to him. With her by his side he felt powerful, unstoppable even. He had not felt it since.
Jack glanced at the bottle in his hand and let out a growl, throwing the bottle at the wall. The glass shattered and the synthetic blood stained the wall a dark crimson. He rose to his feet and looked to the clock.
"01:36"
He felt the madness return to him for a brief second and he grinned. He would not wallow in pity tonight. It was time to hunt.
"There will be blood tonight mistress, I swear." He muttered to himself and made for the door.
BUBBA
Age: 1084 Years Old (Appears to be 25)
Member Group:(if you choose human, please say what kind of human...or a shifter, what kind of shifter, etc.) Vampire
Character History:
Over a thousand years ago, in Northern Europe, Jack was born. At least that is the name he goes by today, the name his parents gave him he has long forgotten. He was known as Thorstein, the son of a noble family who were wealthy because of his father's profession as a royal house carl, a bodyguard to the king. Ulric, his father, died soon after Thorstein was born. Killed by a spear through the eye and an axe which smashed his heart in two. Fortunately Thorstein's family was wealthy enough to survive for a time and Thorstein lived well enough.
On his tenth birthday he was rewarded with his Father's sword and he began to train to become a house carl. His skill with a blade and spear was excellent and he soon became a wanted soldier by his fifteenth birthday. After fighting a number of small battles for his king, Halfdan, he soon found himself on a long boat heading to the shores of England to establish himself as a true Viking warrior.
The raid was successful, so successful that Halfdan took over a large section of England know as Northumbria for himself and declared himself king of the region. Thorstein was now in his early twenties and life was good, he was a well paid warrior in a group of house carls who were deemed to be unstoppable.
Though Thorstein was a rare warrior, someone who possessed a power which had thought to have been killed off. He was a berserker, a warrior who could ignore pain when frenzied and maul and murder tens at will. In battle he was unstoppable, he was a killing monstrosity who no warrior could stop. Though Thorstein was a different kind of berserker, he had some control. Some. There were times when the world blacked out and he would awake to find blood all around.
However Halfdan was an exceptionally cruel king and eventually the locals revolted. There was a battle in which the locals outnumbered the Vikings greatly and Halfdan was killed. Now when a lord is killed in battle it is expected that the house carls die defending his body. Slowly but surely the house carl troop were picked off and so was Thorstein. Or so he thought. Hours after the battle Thorstein awoke among the bodies of the dead. Peasants and thralls were looting the bodies of the dead for precious silver and swords.
He pushed a body from his chest and though he was covered in blood, he himself was unharmed. All he had suffered was a crack to the skull knocking him unconscious for an hour. He removed his helmet to find an axe in-bedded in the top, the blade narrowly missing his skull, but had broken the skin. Blood trickled down his face and he realised he was alive from the pain.
He gave an almighty scream to the Gods above, asking why he had been denied Valhalla and why he could not join his brothers in the Golden Hall. Fate, it seemed, had played a cruel trick. He would be disgraced should he return home for not carrying out his duty. His cry to the gods attracted the attention of the locals and they could not understand either why he lived. The few peasants grabbed their spears and axes and charged Thorstein. He gathered his sword and shield and in a fit of rage killed everyone before him.
Months passed and eventually Thorstein found himself in Norway, unable to return home to Denmark in case he was recognised by family or friends and pressed on why he did not die in battle when he should have.
In Oslo he made a farm stead home and tried to live his days as best he could. He met a woman, Esa, whom he loved. They married and had two boys, Tyr and Sigurd. Thorstein was welcomed into Esa's family and for a time life was good again. He worked the farm and looked after his family well. Though in the town there was another who lusted after Esa, a man named Ulf. Ulf and Thorstein would compete in festivals in feats of strength and each time Thorstein would win and upstage Ulf's attempts at impressing the local women, mainly Esa.
Frustrated by his advances on Esa producing nothing Ulf took action worthy of only a thrall. Ulf, while drunk, attempted to rape Esa in her own home. She struggled and Ulf threatened to murder her sleeping children if she did not "amuse" him. She complied and they slept with each other in Thorstein's bed. As soon as the pair had finished Thorstein returned, his eyes ablaze at the sight before him. Ulf and Esa did their best to calm his choler but it was no good, Thorstein had gone berserk again drew his sword and murdered them both.
In his fit of rage Thorstein torched the house and watched everything burn. Then the cries of his children reached his ears. In his fury and anger he had forgotten his children and now they burnt alive in the house. The flames barred his entrance to save them and the cries died. Thorstein was hunted by his father in law and was forever labeled "Kinslayer", the worst possible name for a Viking man.
Months passed and Thorstein was continually hunted by his father in law until eventually he was found sleeping. Thorstein should have been killed yet again. He was tied to a tree, naked, and a flurry of arrows pierced his flesh. Yet again death did not accept him and for days he stood, tied to the tree with arrows plunged in his chest. Somehow he still lived, air still filled his lungs, but he knew that eventually death would catch him, he could only escape for so long.
But then something happened that he did not expect. One wind swept night, with a storm brewing in the south, a figure approached the bloody tree and the naked man slowly dying. Thorstein coughed up blood and did not ask for help, he knew he deserved death for what he had done, but again the fates saw different. A woman approached, dressed in a flowing linen dress, which at first he thought to be red, but as she came closer he realised it was not dye. It was blood. It covered her face and stained her clothes.
She grinned at him and licked at the blood seeping from his many wounds. She soothed his soul with soft words and filled his mind with false hood, how Thorstein deserved revenge on his father in law for what they had, she knew of Ulf and of his past. Thorstien could hardly believe his ears.
"I know you Thorstein Kinslayer, and I want you." Was all she said. Thorstien had no choice and was soon changed into a vampire.
His life from that point was a constant berserk rage. He was like a mad dog, under control by his mistress. Any request she made that would quell his hunger he would gladly accept and charge off to maim and kill hundreds. In the years that followed he murdered many and got his revenge on his father in law. Blood was all he knew now. Of course, that was what he was taught to know by his mistress who used him as a weapon.
Centuries passed and Thorstein forgot his name through the constant bloodshed and feeding. He loved his life so much and had almost reverted back to a feral state.
During the 1400s his mistress went missing. He was alone in the world and now, without direction, he was lost. Perhaps it was a cruel trick by his mistress but the "trick" would last for over 600 years, as he has still not found her. Alone and for the first time afraid he found himself becoming fair more cautious. Before with his mistress at his side, giving him praise and reward, he was an unstoppable monster. Now he was tame.
Centuries again passed and for that time he kept a low profile, feeding when he had to and integrating himself back into society. Now and again he would be forced into hiding because of his berserk rage building. He would run into the forest and take his fury out on defenseless animals. He attended balls, involved himself in the politics of man, only for a brief moment of course as he could not be seen at day, and soon taught himself how to live as a human once again.
It was not until the 20th century that he adopted the name he goes by this day. It was also in this century that he finally came to fully control his rage, he no longer needed to hide away to release the build up of pressure. During the 1930s, in the prohibition period, he would walk the streets, picking off drunken women exiting from speakeasies. It was easy and no one really missed them. But one man, who guarded one of the speakeasies caught him in the act. He called him Jack, a name the man referred to everyone. Quickly of course he murdered him as well, but the name seemed to fit.
Jack would swap his last name around from town to town to avoid the police and other authorities, but he liked the name Jack.
These days his name is Jack Ashcroft. And he is a tamed monster. For now.
Personality:
Currently Jack is trying to better himself and so he finds himself trying to switch to Tru Blood instead of picking off hapless drunks that no one will miss, but the taste of real blood is all he has known and so he will slip in to his old ways.
As a person Jack can be very friendly to other vampires. He tries to be as pleasant as he can be to other people, including humans, though a part of him only sees them as food on legs. He has a sad melancholy about him for his mistress who is still unfound, and will sometimes slip into a depression about her. He wishes nothing more than to find her, but usually keeps this to himself as he views it as a sign of weakness.
He is loyal to the vampire way as he fully embraces his life, and though he is older than most, he stays within the rules of the vampire monarchy.
Future Plans for your character Still looking for his mistress, though he has all but given up hope, so he will likely see what life has in store for him.
Have you read the books No
Sample RP
Jack sipped the warm bottle of O Negative and glanced at the calender on the wall. It was this day things changed, the day she left. She was his everything, his mistress, his maker. He had an un-rivaled love for her which he would never forget and he would never forget what she did to him. With her by his side he felt powerful, unstoppable even. He had not felt it since.
Jack glanced at the bottle in his hand and let out a growl, throwing the bottle at the wall. The glass shattered and the synthetic blood stained the wall a dark crimson. He rose to his feet and looked to the clock.
"01:36"
He felt the madness return to him for a brief second and he grinned. He would not wallow in pity tonight. It was time to hunt.
"There will be blood tonight mistress, I swear." He muttered to himself and made for the door.
BUBBA
