» D'EATH, OLIVER AARON

` OLIVER AARON D'EATH .
A FOUR HUNDRED AND SEVENTEEN TWENTY TWO YEAR OLD TRADITIONALIST CALLED OL
send a heartbeat to the void that cries through you
relive the pictures that have come to pass
for now we stand alone the world is lost and blown
and we are flesh and blood disintegrate, with no more to hate.

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•••

but baby don’t forget what you already know
OUT OF CHARACTER

ALIAS •Nat
GENDER • Female
CONTACT INFORMATION • PM
HOW’D YOU FIND US? • Already a member
MEMBER TITLE • `and then there were none

i could be the one to turn you out
THE BASICS

FULL NAME •

Oliver Aaron D'Eath

ETYMOLOGY •

Oliver, "bearer of the olive branch"
Aaron, "mountain of strength"
D'Eath, "death," the family surname

NICKNAMES •

Ol, Ollie, Aaron, D'Eath, Mister D'Eath, Ambassador D'Eath

AGE •

Four Hundred and Seventeen Appears twenty-two

BIRTHDATE •

August 19th

POLITICAL PARTY •

Traditionalist

OCCUPATION •

For now, he acts as Ambassador to Romania as a part of the International Magical Cooperation Department in the Ministry of Magic. Uses this to help with his work concerning the public relations of the Traditionalist party.

WAND •

rosewood, crushed acromantula fang, thirteen inches & good for quick casting

we could be the talk across the town
THE PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

FACIAL FEATURES •

Oliver's face is actually quite delicate, feminine almost in its high cheekbones, slender chin, and full lips. His face offers only professional behavior, rarely ever smirking or sneering while adopting a calm demeanor of casual indifference that suites the undead. His skin is a handsome pale that contrasts well with his dark hair and slender brows while his neck is long, not gangly, as it holds his head in a gesture that usually tilts his chin upwards just so.

EYE COLOR •

Pale blue, bordering on ice cold though once promised bright, doeful innocence.

HAIR COLOR AND STYLE •

Dark brown hair, often slightly long with subtle waves. Rarely tousled or mistakenly dishevled.

BUILD •

He is a thin man, bearing a lean structure that does not seem to fit the role of any monster. There is a wiry, unseen strength about him however, one that lingers in the long arms and lithe chest that often catches a victim hopelessly offguard.

DISTINGUISHING FEATURES •

Certainly, is whole face is a distinguishing feature. What with those bright blue eyes, prominent cheekbones, and full lips... he is a face you will remember. He even occasionally bares a distinguishing pair of glasses that add to that air of elegance and aloof allure that is particular to Oliver and his distant, alley-cat behavior.

STYLE •

Now, Oliver is very much a man of style. He often wears a suit, or something particularly distinguishing of his wealth. He does not flaunt his fortunes, but doesn't hide them either. He simply likes looking good and professional. Wouldn't want to be mistaken for the scum of the earth, after all.

PORTRAYAL •

cillian murphy

don’t judge it by the color, confuse it for another
THE PERSONALITY

BOGGART •

Loosing control of his bloodlust

ERISED •

There, in the mirror, is a woman. She stands beside him, hand on his shoulder with eyes that know things. While he thrives on solitude, he yearns for company.

CRYSTAL BALL •

To find a significant other to share his immortality with, even if he'd never admit to it aloud

DEMENTOR •

Her fingers were soft, flighty, but lingering all the same. Clever and cunning, they drew him closer and he thrived upon their angel's caress; their devil's seduction. He leaned against such feathersoft fingers and let them roam his hair as he leaned his head back and smiled. She smiled back as her hands grazed the tender flesh of a lean, exposed neck. And as she bent her face forward to kiss that lovely spot, fangs took him instead and pushed into the soft skin that deserved so much better. To wake again, dead but alive was something he still tries to forget, now considering himself weak for letting himself be overcome by a woman's touch and the childish realization of his fate.

PATRONUS •

A glistening, lithe panther.

Alessandra. She was the only woman he had grown fond of. Her dark hair, her green eyes. There was one morning when she woke beside him, running her fingers through loosened locks of his hair when he realized he could have been in love with the woman. She rose from the bed wearing nothing at all, though modestly took to the bathroom where she returned wearing a silk robe. For once, he had wished she had lingered clotheless for just a bit longer, so divine and perfect was her shape that he hadn't even the slightest interest in looking away. When he rose to follow, she only pushed him back down with a gentle placement of her fingers on his lean shoulderblade. "Just wait," she whispered in his ear, before vanishing into the kitchen. She returned sometime later with a blueberry muffin in her hand. His eyes lit up, his smile was warm. For one reason or another, the man was fond of muffins. And when he reached to take it from her, she playfully, but still so gently, slapped his hand away and leaned him back against the headboard. She lounged beside him and broke off small chunks of muffin to slide into his mouth. It was warm, melting in his mouth and pulling his senses into a settled, reassured comfort that nearly made him sleepy again. With the treat finished, he pulled her down beside him a wrapped long arms around her, holding her close and burrying his face in her brown hair. "I think I love you," he had once said. But she hadn't heard him. Perhaps it was all for the better. He'd have to kill her soon anyway.

AMORTENTIA •

blood
smoke
wine
roses
autumn

SECRECY SENSOR •

once lost control in his feeding which resulted in a gruesome trio of deaths and a questionable sanity
pities werewolves, who have no control
wonders what it'd be like to have one woman to share immortality with
likes it when it rains on his face
still longs for that one, really good kiss

TRIWIZARD CUP •

cooking (was a chef in one of his false lives)
music (plays the cello and the piano)
running (speedy as hell)
acting (could make your mother cry if he wanted)
is extremely flexible (brains beat brawn)
killing (quick, quiet, they never see it coming)
drinking (only the finest alcohol, not some damn dishwater kthnx)

LIKES •

red wine
solitude
classical music
good sex
red roses
candles
control
fire
late nights
subtlety
warm hands
raindrops
vodka
old books
stories
spiders
elegance
family
himself

DISLIKES •

firewhiskey
bad sex
sloppy sex
loud, messy rock music
early mornings
the cold
winter
impulse
bad hair
no control
watery tea
most other people
stupidity
ignorance
idiots

STRENGTHS •

Intelligence
Keen senses
Always calm
Subtle in his actions
Charisma
Straight faced
Experienced

WEAKNESSES •

Paranoia
Anti-social attitude
Arrogance
God-complex
Blood
Apathy
Women with beautiful eyes

OVERALL PERSONALITY •

SOPHISTICATED; Watching the world go by for four hundred years certainly changed Oliver. He was once a light-hearted, party-going, smart ass, young wizard who just loved a good time. But the years changed him; molded him and crafted him into the epitome of elegance and sophisticated grace. He is a very wealthy man, having built a fortune for all this time and using it in luxury. He is someone who appreciates beauty and thrives upon it, whether that beauty be found in a woman, a musical note, or a painting. He is not rough around the edges nor is he terribly tough or headstrong. He is a man of higher things; of the world above the rest of us. He sees himself as a god who bears the burden of the filth on his shoulders where they loom in dark corners just out of view. So he rises above them and lives in a world of luxry, good fortune, and snobbish posture. He doesn't like getting his clothes wet or dirty and he thinks the lazy scum in Becontree got what was coming to them. The sin of sloth is certainly not his even though he walks in languid, unhurried strides. He worked under the guise of a human for all these years, earning the money rather than stealing it... though there was plenty of that too. He doesn't need to be kept busy to be kept content, though often amuses himself with the cello the piano, or some other fine craft of art he delights in. His elegance should not be misinterpreted for weakness, however. He's a tall, thin, yet intimidating man... and should the night be feeding time, his immortal's strength is overwhelming.

SMART; While he is certainly a regular high-class man, there is a cunning in him that cannot be missed in his blue, blue eyes. He is extremely intelligent, having learned from the experiences of the world and from the literature of time gone by. It is perhaps his more powerful of weaponry rather than the pair of fangs that linger in his unseen smile. It is his intelligence, his classic charisma that woos women into his arms where he later drains them of every drop of blood that runs through such pretty little veins. He is sly, clever, and able to sense a confrontation before it even occurs. He is an observer of detail, noticing how certain pieces of the puzzle are the quirks and mannerisms that will undo their master. He is still something of a smart-ass to those he decides not to like though it is used with such velvet subtlety that the person may not notice the offense until he has turned and left. While he is not necessarily sadistic, he does enjoy toying with minds that make themselves available for the picking. The expression on someone's face when they've just had the coils of their mind unwound.... is priceless. It makes him smile like the demi-god he considers himself to be, a thin and facinated grin that looks odd and unsettling among his features. He respects the power of the mind over the body; the destruction it can have on all systems when it decides to shut down in a state of utmost depression; the power it can assume when someone realizes it... Yes, the mind is a facinating and dangerous tool that Oliver wields with a deadly prowess that is not to be overlooked.

ALOOF; While there may be a warm charisma that encircles the man, there is more a cold distance that seperates him from the rest of the world. He is a very solitary person, often seen more by himself than surrounded by happy, laughing company. He appears twenty-two, an age where a young person should be gathering friends for night on the town or a drink at their favorite pub. But with Oliver, it's different. He has the maturity of four hundred years on his shoulders and the experience of living that old life and knowing well what comes of it. He instead prefers his solitude, where he can watch the world pass from afar and see what else will come of it. When approached, however, he does not offer hostility but a high-class form of smooth charisma that has bedded enough women to twist Merlin's beard. He is not a ladie's man, however, and simply acts unbothered and content when in the presence of a beautiful girl. But really, he's not that interested in sexual relations. Though he does enjoy a good roll in the hay, he only enjoys it if its done well. Sloppy, drunken, messy sex is found extremely pathetic in his eyes. Such a wonderful activity should not be spoiled by bleary vision and an addled mind. To him, love making is an art that should be appreciated rather than tossed to the side. His aloof behavior sees that with everything. If it's not beautiful or interesting, it's not worth his time. Even then, he does not seek out what he desires. He is to be sought out, and only then will he adopt an interest that is warm with one's presence. Otherwise, he keeps to himself and enjoys his independence. The years have made him cold and anti-social, however, despite whatever warmth he may offer in a slight smile or a leveled gaze. He is a terribly lonely man after years of being without the constant of company. This is a fact he will never learn to admit, however, for he has yet to admit it to himself.

APATHETIC; The years of being undead have changed Oliver's optimism into a cold indifference. He no longer gives a damn about the rest of the world after watching it destroy itself over and over. While he cares about himself in an arrogance that is quite evident in everything he does, he doesn't reach out to politics and does his job with a professionalism that isn't particularly passionate. He simply doesn't care. It's as basic and genuine as that. Everyone lives their lives to the fullest because it's the only one they have. Since he no longer has a life to live with such a carpe diem attitude, he strides through the days, months, and years as though they're nothing at all. Time is irrevelent to the vampire, as is life itself. When wooing a woman into a sense of sound security before he bites into her neck, he no longer thinks about what he's doing. Everything is one fluid motion, coming together and working to further his immortality. He does not attach himself to human beings anymore, though he has known to grow fond of some of the women he's taken under his wing. Such is a ghost of the past, I'm afraid, for he is unphased with every feeding that takes place and makes sure not to remember their names... even when he does. He is not a pained, brooding man who hates himself with each life he steals away. He knows it is a part of his vampire's curse, and there is no pretending to be something you're not. His condition is unknown to the public (for certain, the Ministry wouldn't be particularly pleased with their Ambassador's quirks) but has become a part of his everyday life. He is apathetic towards everything he does, unconcerned with the consequences or the fates of others he pulls into it. He could easily be considered a sociopath, unfeeling of the emotions and the conscious that most should consider when dealing with the lives of innocents. But he does not necessarily take pleasure in what he does. He barely even regards it. Oliver is completely and utterly apathetic towards his vampirism and towards the lives of others. And apathy, they say, is worse even than sadistic facination. At least their is passion is evil. With Oliver? There is nothing but cold blue eyes.

you might regret what you let slip away
THE BIOGRAPHY

PARENTS •

Logan D'Eath & Jennifer Moon

SIBLINGS •

D'EATH, MARTIN KAISER
D'EATH, SALINA FARIS
D'EATH, DANTE LUCAS

SIGNIFICANT OTHER •

Has been engaged various times, all women were killed before they could be wed.

OTHER FAMILY •

Dead.

BLOOD STATUS •

Tainted (Vampire)

HERITAGE / ORIGINS •

Romanian

BIRTHPLACE •

Somewhere in a stormy Romanian countryside

HOMETOWN •

Prahova, Romania

CURRENT RESIDENCE •

A very nice Belgravian flat

GENERAL HISTORY •

It all started way back then. Some four hundred and seventeen years ago. Romania was a dangerous place, where vampires ran amok despite programs dedicated to controlling them. There was a swarm of the undead pests, and two happened to be Logan D'Eath and Jennifer Moon, a couple that had met beneath the stars. Logan was the tainted man, baring fangs that he couldn't bare dealing into the neck of the woman he had fast fell in love with. But one night, when they met beneath a harvest moon and kissed after eating ripe, green apples... he asked her if she wanted to live forever. And she did. So she was killed by his teeth and woke to find herself turned. At first, she was scared and doe-like, timid and doubtful of the promise she had made the man she loved. But she soon decided she didn't care, and the two were wed happily.

Soon after, they bore a son. Martin Kaiser D'Eath. It wasn't until a good two-hundred years later that they decided to bare another. Oliver was born, and only just after they had stumbled upon Salina and offered her a home. The boy was a quiet infant, rarely ever crying and quite content in his own company without the constant fussing over most babies require. His childhood was average for a boy growing in the Romanian countryside, and he developed a quiet, if smart-ass attitude that often got him in trouble with the farmers when he tried to woo their blushing daughters. It wasn't until he was twenty two that he met his match, however, in the form of a gorgeous blonde woman named Ava. Unbeknownst to Oliver, his parents had suggested she turn him. And so she did, while in the haylofts under yet another orange eye of a harvest moon.

His afterlife as a vampire was long, eventful, though particularly unexciting in his eyes. At first, the sport was fun and facinating. He even grew to enjoy being what he was. But, eventually, the fun grew thin and vampirism grew lackluster in his bright blue eyes. He grew apathetic and bored, though took up the world under various guises and names so that he could taste what mere mortals could not. So he was an actor, a chef, a writer, and a wizard psychiatrist. He took up various jobs and lives in various places. Dante Lucas D'Eath wasn't born for another two-hundred years, though Oliver regarded him quickly as a younger brother that he would keep a keen eye out for should trouble ever arise. It was odd of him to want to bond with family, since he drifted so much and lingered on the outskirts of their odd, haphazard life. But to have a younger brother was a humbling idea for the blood-sucker, and he was sure to drop by various times back at the old homestead to check on Dante when he was still young and unturned. But his fate, sure enough, would be the same as Martin's and Oliver's. The D'Eath family was one of vampires, it would seem, not that it particularly bothered Oliver anymore. In fact, it intrigued him. They would best the ages by lingering in the background of history as it passed by. Of course, there was the price of blood to feed that unsatiable bloodlust, but it was a price Oliver was willing to pay. He didn't care enough to turn back. So he didn't.

Oliver did attend school, in fact... he attened various wizarding academies very much like muggle colleges. Most were small but intelligent establishments in Bulgaria, Romania, Russia, and Germany... but he eventually migrated to the United Kingdom where he lingers to this very day. He studied at various schools, working over the years to better his intelligence rather than lounge lazily in the wealth he had begun to collect through the ages. He even went to Hogwarts under a writing assignment for the Daily Prophet, and wrote a very nice article about the school's educational programs. A part of him had hoped he would have been able to stay there and perhaps learn from some of the professors, though later considered himself better and moved on with his lifeless life. He finally finds himself an Ambassador to Romania for the Ministry of Magic, who is only aware of his Romanian roots but not of the vampiric past that lingers there. He currently is quite wealthy, only needs to travel to Romania ever so often, and watches the world go by. Indeed, the life of the dead is good... even if the dead person, in question, is always wondering if he can best his own past; if he can finally find something and someone worth while.

like the geek in the pink
THE EXTRA

ANYTHING ELSE? • Nope.
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE •

fin !
yeah. sorry the history's so ridiculously short. will lengthen it if needed.
i'm just so tired. that's what i get for not sleeping for three days.
-fails-
<3 nat

a c c e p t e d !

congratulations! you've been accepted and filed away with the rest of the
traditionalists. remember to post in the face claim, the job claim, and the housing
claim now that you're accepted, and then you're ready to post! if you have any questions
or comments, don't hesitate to pm an admin. we hope you enjoy your time here at shades.

-cough- NAT. YOU KNOW WHAT I THINK. GO GET YOUR ASS ON THE BOARDS.