• I began RPing at age 15 and have done so on and off ever since. But I've been creating stories and characters for as long as I can remember.
• I got my start on Marvel-based sites; X-Men specifically.
• I've been told my quietness can be intimidating, but I'm just really introverted. It is much easier for me to get to know people one-on-one.
• I set unrealistically high expectations for myself and have a tendency toward perfectionism.
• I'm a Scorpio INFJ.
• I'm fair, but have a low bullshit tolerance and no issue banning people who surpass that threshold.
• Cold Weather
• True Crime Documentaries
• Football & Basketball Seasons
• Dynamic Plots
|Nickname|| No Information|
|Played by|| Coen|
|Age|| 32 (November 5, 1985)|
|Sign|| || Scorpio|
|Height|| 5ft. 10in.|
|Occupation|| Freelance Editor|
|Species|| Admin |
|Affiliation|| The Triad|
|Status|| Married AF|
Pitiless, predatory eyes surveilled the scene below with rapt attention. From his perch above the alley, Graham had a front row seat to the spectacle unfolding just beneath him. Of course it was a drama to which he already knew the ending. He was both writer and director of this little production, unbeknownst to the human female. The vampire in pursuit of her was named Mekhi, and had accompanied Graham from New Orleans. He was tasked with playing the villain, and if the terror written on her face was any indication, it seemed he was doing a convincing job. They’d gone over the plan in specific detail: chase the girl, frighten her, make her life flash before her eyes, but under no circumstances harm her. There was a plot twist he hadn’t been entirely forthcoming about, but he required cooperation from his cohort, thus revealing all of his secrets simply wouldn’t do.
A hint of a smile curved the edges of his lips as she attempted to flee like a mouse caught in the crosshairs of an expert cat. So predictable, so typical. They were vermin, all of them. If Graham had it his way, he would have bypassed the orders of his mistress, employing torture and compulsion until he’d successfully gathered the information he sought. Unfortunately The Conductor had his preferred methods, so it seemed Graham would be thrust into the role of reluctant hero. What a joke. Sometimes he was convinced that man complicated things intentionally just to annoy him. In any event, here he was. He’d been following this particular human for several weeks now, watching, waiting, collecting information.
She and her group of misfit friends had foolishly put themselves on the radar of vampires everywhere when they’d begun posting on an internet blog. Through this medium they’d protested the existence of supes, spewing hatred and intolerance, all of which Graham cared little about, but when his master insisted he check things out, determining whether these silly mortals were conceivably a threat, he’d observed enough to deduce that they could be. More compelling than that however, was the rumor of an alleged cure for the blood poisoning that had been infecting their kind. Combined, these things warranted a closer look. During daylight hours he’d compelled humans to do the task for him and as a result, he knew her schedule, her habits, her idiosyncrasies, all of which would no doubt prove invaluable to him in the months to come.
She didn’t have anywhere to go, a fact she must’ve been aware of given her familiarity with this part of town, yet it didn’t stop her from stupidly running toward a dead end. Were this not all a part of an elaborate scheme, the words dead end would’ve been thoroughly apropos. Graham smiled again. He enjoyed irony. His cue came when Mekhi slammed her up against the wall, hissing in her face with exposed fangs, leaning in as though intent to feed from her. Graham dropped from the heights of the building, landing on his feet as agilely as a cat with nary a sound. His hands gripped Mekhi by the shoulders, jerking him backward and away from the girl. His back was turned to her, but his ears could keenly detect the breakneck speed of her pulse. It was a seductive sound to his kind, but one he wholly ignored in that moment. He had a performance to put on.
While he was trained in many styles of combat, for the sake of making this fight look genuine, he opted to downplay his prowess. Mekhi lacked the similar training, as he’d been little more than a common thug in his human life, a disposable existence for a purpose such as this. And although he was slightly taller than Graham and almost twice as broad, those factors only served to slow him down, proving to be handicaps rather than assets. But that didn’t matter, he wasn’t supposed to win. Unfortunately he was under the impression that he would be permitted to flee, abandoning the attack while allowing Graham to emerge the victor, but this was where the plot twist came in.
After a convincing struggle, one that deceptively left the champion uncertain, Graham retrieved a piece of sharpened lead pipe conveniently stored within reach of the altercation. In one smooth, swift motion, he impaled Mekhi through the chest, forcing the makeshift weapon deeper until it pierced his heart. He could see the terror in his eyes, see the question in them as he slumped slightly forward against Graham. The older vampire cupped the back of his neck, speaking directly into his ear in a hushed voice meant only for him. “You’re probably wondering “why” right about now,” he offered in an even, dispassionate tone, “Well, you see, Mekhi, in times of war, sometimes sacrifices must be made. And make no mistake, we are at war.” The weight of his body grew heavy as he faded into oblivion and Graham stepped backward, allowing Mekhi to fall to the concrete ground.
He turned to regard the girl, his cerulean gaze connecting with hers from the short distance between them. He didn’t however, make any move toward her. Best to give her a little space to process everything that’d just occurred. When he spoke it was calm, matter-of-fact, “Someone who has a bounty on their head, probably shouldn’t wander the streets alone at night.” There would be no mistaking what he was after that statement, but that was his intention, to be forthcoming, trustworthy, until she’d outlived her usefulness to him.
Congratulations, you've earned it!
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