User:Drayden

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(Drayden has a very sarcastic personality. Most would say he is an 'asshole', but regardless, he is just overly-sarcastic, takes things over the edge. He has a very perverted way of thinking, mind's al)
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= General Characteristics =
 
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{{FloatLeft| <poem style="padding:6px 24px 6px 12px; background:#100000;">
 
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'''FAMILY TREE'''
 
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{{TreeLine|M}} [[†melanctha]]
 
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{{TreeLine|  L-}} [[†Daly]]
 
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{{TreeLine|            T-}} '''Drayden''' {{TreeLine|-P-}} [[†Vetras]]
 
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{{TreeLine|            I  T-}} [[†Ebonknight]]
 
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{{TreeLine|            I  T-}} [[†Kervin]]
 
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{{TreeLine|            I  T-}} [[†Prowler]]
 
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{{TreeLine|            I  T-}} [[†Briony]]
 
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{{TreeLine|            I  T-}} [[†Dark Kat]]
 
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{{TreeLine|            I  T-}} [[†Staziker]]
 
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{{TreeLine|            I  T-}} [[†Kiriou]]
 
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</poem> }}
 
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<poem>Full name: Drayden Tazio
 
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Human name: Drake Tazio
 
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Home: [[Tazio Manor]]
 
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Marital status: Bound to [[†Vetras]]
 
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Lineage: Tazio
 
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Languages: English, Italian, French, Spanish.
 
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Speech: Strong accent w/ a lot of slang.</poem>
 
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== Physical ==
 
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<poem>Eyes: Emerald green
 
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Hair: Salt & Pepper colored, short
 
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Date of Birth: October 6th, 1869
 
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Date of Death: N/A
 
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Apparent age: Early 20's
 
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Height: 6 feet 2 inches
 
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Weight: 150lbs
 
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Tattoos: Too many to count
 
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Special Powers: Telepathy, Shadow Traveler, Shifter
 
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Missing: Left hand ring finger
 
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</poem>
 
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== Family History ==
 
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=== Human Life ===
 
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Drake was born to a single woman, by the name of, Amelia Marie Tazio, on October 6th, 1869. He was born and raised in Denmark, Greenland. He never knew his father, not even a name, for his mother never spoke of it, and he never bothered to ask. He was an only child, and his relationship with his mother was rather distant, seeing as how she worked all the time in order to support the two of them, on a Baker's budget. They lived in a small one room shack, on the outskirts of town. A plain and yellowed unstable looking shack, at that.
 
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Drake worked crops for folk in town since he was 8 years old, in order to assist his mother with money. He was a growing boy, his mother hadn't the funds to keep up with him. He'd work long days in the fields, plowing and harvesting crops in all weather/seasons. As a side job, he tended to animals in folk's barns until he was about 15-16 years old, which is when his mother became ill.
 
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Amelia, his mother, was bed ridden and unable to work, nor function as he sat at her bedside day and night, waiting on her hand and foot. She had come down with a bad case of pneumonia, and after months of struggling with the illness, she passed away, a day before his seventeenth birthday.
 
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Drake was alone in the world and blamed himself for his mother's death. He'd dwell on it as he sought out a way away from his misery in pubs until he was too drunk and forced to leave. Upon leaving, he stumbled around the town aimlessly, going through alleyways and through people's backyards, tripping over shrubs and stomping on people's gardens in the process. He found his way to a vacant, cluttered alley and fell to a ground covered in old newspapers and crates and passed out.
 
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=== Turning ===
 
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Drake had awoken to a group of maybe 4-5 people, dressed in dark trench coats and slacks, who had formed a sort of circle around his sleeping body which lay upon the ground. Drake sat up quickly, both hands placed on the ground at either side of him, his vision blurred and completely unfocused no matter how much he blinked in attempt to clear it. He slurred his words as he asked the people who they were, and what they wanted, but all he heard was their intensely creepy laughter, their feet shuffling against the damp, trash covered ground as they moved in closer.
 
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Drake shifted about on the ground as he hesitantly got to his feet and stood in the middle of unfamiliar people. He couldn't make out their faces, nor did he know what time it was, though it was dark, so it must of still been night time. He looked to each person in a scared manner, twisting his head and form about as he went in circles. The taller, bulky man stepped close to him, causing him to step back, though there was a person behind him who shoved him forward. He stumbled forward, coming a mere inch from the bulky man.
 
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He saw pale skin that sunk in, bony features.. He couldn't make out the eyes, but they were dark from what he could tell, shadowed by a large rimmed hat. Drake didn't know what to do, and couldn't remember how to breathe. The tall, bulky man extended a hand and placed it on Drake's shoulder, drawing him in close. The man's other hand came up and caressed the opposite side of Drake's face, and that's when he heard the man speak in a skin shriveling, deep tone. He said, "I know your pain, and I can take it all away.." Drake's eyes were bulging from his head as he stood still as stone and managed to swallow a hard lump in his throat. The man continued, "All you have to do is endure a small percentage of the pain you're already feeling, until you feel no more. You will be reborn, in a sense, and become powerful. Start anew."
 
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With that, Drake had a blank stare, all the muscles in his body became tense. He had no idea what the man spoke of, or who he was.. What he was for that matter. But, he nodded slowly, wary and confused. The bulky man smiled, and though it was dark, Drake could see his pearly white teeth and sharp fangs, like they glistened in the night. Drake gasped and took a step back, but the man still had his hand on his shoulder and pulled him closer, his other hand cupped Drake's face and forcefully leaned his head to the side. Drake yelled and pushed his hands against the man's chest but he didn't budge, it was like stone, the man's body was.
 
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Soon, Drake felt the other's lips on his neck and a sharp, piercing of his flesh as he then inhaled his last breath, everything went dark, and he sunk into what seemed like a deep slumber.
 
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Drake woke in an alley, though he wasn't sure where. He got to his feet, feeling weak and confused, hand at his neck rubbing at the spot where two scabs were. He had no idea how long he was laying there, or what had come of that dreadful night. He stood silent for a few long moments, thoughts racking his brain as his gazed moved to his surroundings in a blur. He thought to himself, "What has happened? What am I suppose to do? What'd that guy mean?" He was at a loss and wrapped his arms around himself, fingers curling over his arms which felt cold as stone.
 
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"Should I go home?" He pondered and soon shook his head. "No.. There's nothing there for me anymore.." He muttered to himself, shifting his feet against the ground as he stood there attempting to blink away the visions of his dying mother, flashing before him like a slideshow out of nowhere. Drayden swallowed against a dry throat and walked out of the alley to look around.. It wasn't familiar at all. He stepped into a nearby tavern, no body spoke to him, and they all looked like statues of some sort, though live. The occupants of the tavern all whispered to each other, giving him those awkward, skin shriveling stares.
 
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He decided to make a new name for himself, and start over like the man had said. 'Make anew.' He decided on, 'Drayden,' and so his new 'life' began. Drayden spent most his time drinking and observing the occupants of this tavern, some people made small talk with him, other's just stared or didn't bother. He had noticed through the time passing that his sight was clearer, his hearing was that of a bat. He could hear whispers clearly from across the tavern, and soon acknowledged an odd thirst that wrenched the pit of his stomach.
 
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The barman in the tavern, had become a familiar face to Drayden, and the barman had noticed his withering-like body. So, he had offered him a wine, but didn't tell Drayden what it was, he didn't care to ask either. But, he drank it, and that weird feeling lurching his stomach seemed to be soothed by it. Drayden found it odd and motioned with his hand for the barman to come over, and finally asked him what this drink was. The barman said, "It's blood wine, sir."
 
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Drayden looked appalled and his facial features contorted. Blood wine? BLOOD? He ran it through his mind over and over, and unknowingly continued to drink the rest of the glass.Drayden soon came to realize he was a vampire as he observed the other's in the tavern. He then put it to a test, by getting into fights. He'd been fatally stabbed, but he didn't die, it barely even hurt, and it never left a scar.
 
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He then began talking with the barman about this new life. The barman told him of other pubs around the world, places he'd be safe, how to blend in with crowds and not let on his true new self to onlookers. He learned to control his thirst, and survived on blood wine's, or whatever the pub's had that quenhed his thirst. He set out to explore the world, get a taste of every culture, see new things, be somewhere unfamiliar and exciting. Drayden traveled for many, many years and came to find this new life something he enjoyed and was suddenly honored and had the most graditude for those strange men in trench's. He was free, and he was happy.
 
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== Other ==
 
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<poem>'''Favored Possessions'''
 
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* Tibby, a Calico feline w/two different colored eyes
 
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* Bastian, a Siberian Husky given by [[†SWatcher]]
 
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* Trinity, an orphaned bat given by [[†Gir]]
 
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* Magical concealment ring forged by a Witch
 
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* Wrist watch gifted by [[†Dark+Kat]]
 
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* Silver case for his blunts (on his person at all times)
 
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</poem>
 

Latest revision as of 18:10, 15 April 2017

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