Name: Julien D`Lorve.
Age: twenty-two. (when sired.. his real age is totally unknown, and a secret he prefers to keep to himself.)
Appearence: Julien is a little under 5'7, with rather a small build that is exaggerated by his willowy slenderness. His hair falls in graceful waves of blonde, all down his shoulders; yet is often kept back from his face with a small, velvet ribbon at the base of his neck. His eyes are quite large, filled with an exquisite cerulean light; yet they fail to maintain any trustful feeling, lending the boy rather a cunning air. Golden lashes sweep almost to his cheeks when he blinks; his skin almost wrought of ivory itself. This pale, angelic countenence is thrown into sharp contrast with his lips; bright scarlet, adding to his features a sensual grace.
Background: Julien was born during the French Revolution, growing up in middle-class Paris. His parents were well know aristocrats; maintaning a very high, and respected social status.
Yet at the age of nineteen, such dreams seemed to shatter for the spoiled boy. Julien's father was killed during a backstreet brawl; leaving his mother to run a household. Shortly after this tragedy, it became apparent that his father had gambled all their fortune away in dingy poker rooms; or merely wasted it away in filthy opium dens.
Very soon, the public became aware of this scandal, making life as hard as possible for the remaining line of D'Lorve.
Julien's mother now had to work for a living; taking up a job as a seamstress. Many of the servants were let go, as they no longer had the money to maintain their keep. And, eventually, the great white chateu; heirloom of the family, was sold, forcing Julien, his mother and a few remaining servants to move into a shared house on the outskirts of the city.
Julien was begged, over and over to earn a living; yet pride kept the young man from falling so low.
Eventually, his mother died of a lingering affliction, and the last of the servants had to be sold to pay for funeral costs.
Alone, penniless and naive, Julien gave up all hope of maintaining the house; packing his megre belongings, and retreating to the sanctuary of his mother's Aunt.
Gladly the last of his family took him in, giving the beautiful French boy warmth and shelter... yet the world never works too kindly.
The lady of the house often journeyed to Rome, and during one of these trips, Julien was left alone in her abode, with merely the elderly woman's valet.
A foolishly large ball the young man threw; intoxicating himself beyond belief. As the guests made their seperate way's home, Julien was attacked under the blossom trees at the end of the rich gardens.
Rain blinded Julien's sight, and the liquor made his mind slow; his attacker was far too strong and fast for him to even see.
Yet, as suddenly as he had come, the man seemed to vanish from Julien's sight; leaving the boy to stumble indoors, and barricade himself in his bedroom until morning light.
When the lady of the house returned, Julien told her of all that had occured; foolishly, the elederly woman refused to believe him, blaming his wild drinking habits for such nonesense. A violent row ensued, during which the boy found himself draining the woman of her life's blood... in terror, Julien fled far from the grounds, allowing the public to believe that the valet had turned on his mistress, and murdered her.
Yet Julien knew the truth, and forever it haunted him, causing him to sail to England to make a living... a home and a great name he managed to gain; yet nothing could ever change the fatal consequences brought about on that warm, French night...
Favourite Food: Grapes, chocolate..usually very milky...or sugar-cubes.
Favourite Colour: Emerald green.
Relationship Status: Single...apparently. Though his relationship with his fledgling is somewhat questionable.
Weird fact/s about them: He has an obsession with his nails; cannot for the life of him control his laughter, he's a pyromaniac, and detests the British.
Family: They're all dead, as far as he knows.
Favourite thing about themselves: ....Everything.
RP sample: Blonde ringlets scattered his shoulders, as Julien continued his determined walk to Augustus. At least, it would seem determined to one unused to the vampire's mind.. it was hardly so. If nothing else, Julien didn't pause to think of the other, and how he would feel at having his personal space invaded, merely because that there had never once been need for care, in his own mind... if someone came close to him.. well, that was for a reason. Besides... he was Julien D'Lorve... he could do whatever he damned well wanted.
Slowing in his walk, now, the blonde stopped a few feet away from Augustus, fixing him with those euphoric eyes, that seemed to hold a senseless kind of emotion.. as if never fully aware of his actions, even as he made them.
Ivory lips twitched at he corners, as he returned the smile with a brand of his own; the gesture almost sardonic.. almost apathetic... yet that light in his eyes, ever detracted from any sense of boredom, as though he were wrought of insanity itself. Some kind of hysteric feeling ever lingering behind the thin veil of cerulean ice, that adorned widely set apart orbs.
A thin hand idly brushed away invisible flecks of dust, that he apparently imagined to have settled themselves upon the emerald velvet of his jacket.. the thought utterly in his own mind, as the material in question lay as flawless as when it had been made.
"Excuse you? If I excused you, I might have to forgive you, and forgivness is something that should be earned..," His head shot up, and he seemed to smile.. apparently delighting in this 'game'. "Wouldn't you say so?"
The tone seemed somewhat sharp, in which he spoke.. almost shrill, as if unable to calm the torrent of wild emotions, that coursed through his veins.
He wasn't mad.. oh, no. Julien refused to believe that; becoming uncontrollable if a person so much as assumed it.
Julien was dangerous.. yes.
Julien was pathelogical liar, and constantly fought the truth, that his condition bordered on insanity.
After all... it merely added to his vampiric charm.
Ahh, the infamous Julien! So nice to meet him at last!
Ahh, yes...I thought I'd stick him up. I was searching some old bios, and saw him there. =]
Nasty little man.
Haha, I look forward to meeting his highness. =P
If Julien was chronically afraid of the English he would have a condition called Anglophobia. xD
Oh god, he'd say that just to get attention, too. xD'' I can just imagine it!
"I can kill you! I have Anglophobia, you British sod!"
xD That would be highly amusing.