Post by Deleted on May 27, 2016 10:54:55 GMT -5
Note: Dynasty's second character.
Name: Damien Draculini (Formerly Damien Wei and yes, that Draculini)
Age: 635
Gender: Male
Race: Vampire (Formerly human).
Homeworld: Earth
Starting Planet: Earth
Appearance:
A man of good taste when it comes to his appearance, Dynasty likes to always look good when he can, even if he had to make some last minute adjustments during a fight. With this, he can typically be found rocking his dark black hair spiked up a bit in the back with some fairly nice bangs in the front, along with a few loose strands of hair to make the whole thing look natural. His eyes are a nice dark shade of red, a gift he received after a bit of time after his transformation. His face is typically clean save for a bit of a stubble that trails along his jaw. Like many of his kind, he happens to have a pair of unusually sharp fangs in his mouth. For the most part he has a pretty slim build, though he still seems to be in fairly good shape. His skin, while not completely chalky, is rather pale from joining the vampires. Funny enough for what he is, he seems to have a strong scent of alcohol about him.
When it comes to clothes, he tends to go for a mix of fashion and efficiency. He has royal blood to represent after all. For his upper attire, he likes to wear tailcoats with a bit of freedom for the neck (unbuttoned first couple buttons) that go down to just above the back of his knees. Underneath the collar on the left side bears a small symbol that he wears with pride for the Draculini. Underneath his coat, he wears a special kind of holster that works using magnetization, allowing his sword to seemingly stick to his back. This magnetization is controlled through the device he wears on his right wrist that seems to resemble a normal bracelet. On his actual back, he wears a tattered cape that seems to have many tears, even on the edges of it which suggest it was once part of something larger. His dress pants are simple charcoal like black that seems to cling tightly to his waist as well as his legs a bit. To top the whole thing off, he wears a pair of dark black dress shoes with a few buckles on them. All of his clothes have been specially made to fit his specific measurements.
Backstory:
While he may seem like a bit of a playful drunk without any worries in the world, Damien used to be a much different man. Once upon a time that Damien struggled to really remember anymore between his hangovers and drinks, he had worked as an assassin for hire. While he had tried to make it as a soldier at first, Damien quickly realized that the shoddy pay and taking orders didn't suit him, prompting him to instead take the role of a hitman. It was a fairly discouraged profession and one that wasn't for everyone either. Regardless of what others thought though, Damien gladly made a decent living by taking money from cheated men and scorned women looking for revenge. Often times, he would take jobs without any real regard for who he might be killing, having very few moral objections about who he might end. If they died, they just didn't have what it took to live in his eyes and they would meet their fate by his wicked scythe. While a crude and fairly outdated weapon, it seemed to hold a special place in Damien's heart for the force it held as well as the intimacy he held with someone he would kill as opposed to firearms. Besides that, it was also fairly cheap and got the job done. For the longest time, he held that ideal in his mind. While he held a few titles, his most known was Damien the Executioner, given because he seemed unfeeling as he cut down men without any regard for who they were.
That was until one night when Damien was hunting for his next assassination, a target he had been offered a ludicrous amount of money to remove from life. He was told that the woman that stood between him and a nice big cut of dosh was next in line for their family inheritance from a fading parent and the one who organized the hit wanted her gone so he would get it instead. Damien didn't particularly care about the family politics, but when he saw just how much money he would get from interfering, he had no choice but to take the job. Eyeing up a woman wearing a red cloak as she walked down the streets of a shoddy small town, he felt like she would end up as easy prey. She didn't seem to notice as he trailed her from one side of the place to the other, following her to a beaten down shack. Gripping tightly on his wicked scythe as he made his way to the door, he couldn't help but feel like there was something amiss in the air, though he couldn't hope to place the source of the disturbance in his mind. At least not until before he could move his fingers to the handle, the door already began to push towards him. Taken a bit by surprise, he stood there frozen as the door cracked open ever so slightly at first before he could clearly see the face of the person he was meant to kill. He was struck dumb in that instant as he saw the woman before him look up at him curiously for a few moments while he silently did the same. Before him now stood the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen and as he stared into her eyes, he couldn't help but feel gripped by some new emotion that tugged at his heart quite a bit when he thought of her as his target.
"Who are you?" she asked with a rather gentle voice, one which seemed to make him visibly blush as he found himself at a loss for words. As she puffed her cheeks out at his lack of response, she looked over at his hand before noticing the rather large scythe he held. Noticing her gaze, he quickly followed it before he widened his eyes as he realized that she would know what he was here for if she knew of him. He suddenly felt a bit of worry as he loosened his grip on his scythe ever so slightly, though she simply let out a chuckle after a few seconds. "You're a farmer, huh? Well please don't worry about me. Most of the town has already given me enough to survive off of for at least a few nights. But I appreciate the thought!" she commented as she opened the door a bit more and moved a hand down to gesture at a bag of rice she had sitting next to the door while giving him a light smile.
He was a bit surprised she had came to such a conclusion, but a bit of relief seemed to sweep over his mind as he slowly gave a small smile in response, seeming to feel some kind of warmth in him from her words. He seemed to lower his guard a bit, something he'd ordinarily not allow during his jobs, as he moved forward a bit and nervously stuck his hand forward to her. "I'm Dawei. . . I mean, Wein. U-Uhm. . . No wait, I'm. . ." he stumbled over his words before she lifted a finger up to his lips and gave a light giggle. "Think about it first, dummy." she playfully teased him. Taking in a deep breath, he closed his eyes for a moment before trying again. "I'm. . . Damien Wei. It's nice to meet you." he finally stated as he continued holding his hand out before feeling her grip it with both of her own and shake it a few times. "Elizabeth Valor." she spoke lightly before quickly letting her hands fall back to her sides. Looking him over a bit, Liz seemed to tilt her head a bit. "I don't think I've ever seen you around her. Are you new?" she questioned as she stepped out to circle him a bit, his eyes following her as he blushed a bit more before nodding a few times. "I. . . I'm just visiting this place and. . ." he trailed off as he watched her walk back into her home, leaving the door open. Glancing back at him over her shoulder, she lifted up the sack before heading further in. "I'm about to make dinner. You can join if you want. . . But don't eat too much!" she called out before he slowly headed in with her. They spent a couple of hours sharing laughs and having a good meal, learning a bit about each other, or at least as much as Damien could afford to tell her without exposing himself. But soon enough it grew late and Damien knew he had to go. Stepping out of the house, he glanced back behind him a bit sadly before he saw her smile at him from the door once more. "Come visit again sometime. And if you're gonna stay for dinner, bring some food too!" she giggled again before he couldn't help but smile a bit once more, nodding and heading off towards a local inn.
As he walked away that night, Damien couldn't help but feel a bit troubled. He had not only fraternized with the target and left her unharmed, but he'd also been experiencing strange sensations all night. He ate not because he was hungry, but because he wanted to spend time with her. He smiled at her words and laughed at her stories. He even shared information about himself. Almost nothing he had done had been professional, yet he had done it anyways. What was wrong with him? He gripped his head tightly in his hand while the other squeezed his scythe even harder. Soon enough, it seemed to dawn on him. He cursed himself a bit but he knew that it couldn't be anything other than love at first sight. He hated himself for letting himself be so careless. But despite how much he was annoyed with himself, he still couldn't help but feel a bit happy that they met. But now he was faced with a choice that could determine how he would live the rest of his life. Looking down at his blade, he narrowed his eyes a bit. Could he really change? How would they even make things work financially? She didn't exactly seem financially safe. What if she learned the truth about him? His mind raced with hundreds of scenarios where everything goes badly for the pair. Even still, his heart urged him on. Soon enough, such terrible visions were replaced with ones of the pair happily settled together wherever fate may send them. Once more, he felt a strange warmth fill his chest, something he could enjoy for a bit. And so he decided to give up his life as an assassin, became significantly careful with whatever money he still had, and used it to help take care of Elizabeth.
Times were hard as they tried their best to make ends meet together, but the two were quickly taken with one another. What started as casual encounters, or so she thought anyways, quickly turned into romantic meetings. They spent whatever time they could manage with each other, growing closer with each passing day. Even when they were short on money, they managed to make each other smile and took comfort in one another's company. They had some quarrels, but managed to always make up before the end of the night. Many looked upon them and thought they were a perfect pair for each other, including themselves. The shack where Damien visited soon became a home for him as he instead would come home there every day. And just as soon as times got hard, they seemed to get better when the pair learned that the woman's father had passed on and left them enough money to live a nice, simple life. The two moved out of the shack and instead found a quaint little cabin in the woods that they could live a bit more luxuriously in, though it was far from a noble's home. Still, they were grateful for what they had and for each other and it all seemed like a fairy tale ending.
That was until one day as Damien was returning from home from getting food, he heard gunshots that loudly pierced the air of the usually calm woods, stirring up worry in Damien's mind. Dropping whatever he was carrying, he quickly bolted forward along the dirt trail that led to his home, rushing to get home in hopes his beloved was still well. It didn't take long to reach the cabin, but as soon as he reached the front gate, he could only stare forward in horror as he saw what had been waiting for him. Taking a few shaky steps forward, he quickly fell to his knees and lifted the body of his love into his arms, not even taking a minute before he was reduced to a broken mess, tears running down his cheeks as he couldn't believe this would happen. But just as soon as grief gripped him, he heard a clattering inside his house and noticed his front door had still been open. He narrowed his eyes and what was sorrow quickly transformed into a great spur of rage. Moving Elizabeth's body aside and laying her down gently on a bed of flowers in front of their home, he went to his shed. Up on the wall, he found the same twisted scythe he had put away so long ago and gripped it tightly in his hand. Anger clouded his vision and controlled his actions as he moved towards the door to his home before rushing in, quickly cutting down a few men he caught off guard before taking a few shots to his chest, quickly cutting off whatever rampage he had tried to start. Within moments, a heavy pool of blood begin to form around Damien and he could tell he wouldn't survive, as did his attacker. "What idiot uses a scythe in this age anyways? Hasn't he ever heard of a gun?" they laughed a bit at his expense as he still tried to pathetically cut him down, instead only causing a light cut to them as they simply stepped over him and went outside, walking away. Coughing up blood, Damien reached out with his left arm and dragged himself back outside, leaving a large trail of his crimson essence behind as he made his way back over to his beloved, taking her hand in his as he waited for his life to get cut short.
But soon enough, Damien could hear footsteps coming from behind him. He snarled lightly as he looked to his love, figuring they were already dead as they were and he wanted to be left alone. As the figure neared closer and closer, he tried to summon the energy to fight but his body seemed to refuse to move. Within a few moments, a pair of women's shoes stood before him as he narrowed his eyes. Moving a hand, he weakly swiped at her leg without much force, not really having any energy to spare. "Pitiful thing. She's dead and the ones who did this are still out there. . . But here you lay dying." she spoke quietly. Damien could feel her stare coming down on him, but it's not like he could do much about it. His spirit was shattered and his body was broken. After a few seconds, he heard a light grunt before he noticed the woman lean down and place her bleeding hand in front of his face. "You want your vengeance, don't you? Or will you be extinguished here without any resistance? If you really want to avenge her, drink this." she offered though he didn't seem to budge. His gaze grew blurry, but he looked over to his love first. One sight of her dead form was all he needed as he pushed himself forward a bit and greedily drank the blood he was offered, the only thing on his mind was the thought of ending the lives of those who caused this. Soon enough, his heart stopped beating and he fell dead to the ground, clutching Elizabeth's hand weakly.
But soon from his death, a new sort of life spurred within Damien as his eyes reopened. He gripped at his throat tightly as he felt the inside of it burning. His eyes widened as he looked at himself, fairly certain he had passed away. He looked up and noticed the woman was gone, though her blood stained some grass petals in front of him. And then he looked to the body of his dearly beloved and his face grew dark once more. Tears ran down his face as he stared at the corpse before he lifted her up, carrying her behind the house. After a bit of time, he had finished covering a grave with a wooden plank for a tombstone that had her name inscribed on it. Heading into the house, he cleaned himself up rather quickly and noticed something familiar hanging on the coat rack he'd previously ignore often. Reaching forward, he took the red cloak she once wore, clutching it tightly to his chest for a bit before draping it around himself. With scythe in hand, he quickly found himself heading back out, sniffing the air lightly. Despite all the blood gathered around his location, one scent seemed to stand out, a scent that managed to piss him off beyond belief as he took it in. Chasing after it like a true predator, the only thing that the people saw was what seemed to be a red shroud before the met their fate. Drinking from their bodies, Damien seemed to realize just how hungry he was as he found relief in the liquid that leaked from their necks. Taking letters from the corpses of the attackers, he read it before he realized it had been the man who originally asked him to kill Elizabeth that had orchestrated the whole event. New rage built up within Damien before he began a long and bloody campaign of revenge, killing many of the man's associates before facing him and severing his connection to the world. It took years, but after everything had been done, Damien discovered that he didn't feel much better. Even after everything he put himself through, his wife was still dead and he was still alive. He looked down at his hands and wondered how long he would have to live in this terrible world until he would finally meet her. Leaving the man's shack, Damien's eyes were quickly caught by a familiar scent as he looked to the woman who had changed him into the monster he was now. She didn't even have to speak for him to realize why she was here. Narrowing his gaze a bit, he quickly listened as she explained what he was, who she was, and what he would have to do.
At first, he seemed angry and depressed over learning his fate would be eternal unless someone ended it for him. He now had a debt to pay to the woman that changed him and his service wasn't negotiable at this point. For a time, he turned to hard drinks to ease the pain in his heart that had settled were love once resided. While it didn't exactly get him hammered the way it would when he was human, it was a taste he could take comfort in and it seemed to take some of the edge off. During the nights, he would hunt scum off the streets and drink their blood for nourishment, figuring it was better than nothing, though he didn't particularly mind the taste. Time passed and eventually he picked himself up, became. . . Less of a raging alcoholic, his personality came back and he began taking his service more seriously. His heart still longed to be reunited with his beloved, but he wouldn't just throw away his life senselessly. Perhaps someday he would expire or meet his end and then he could pass on. Until then, he found himself wandering from city to city, taking tabs on whatever Draculini seemed to appear. Though out of all of them, only one seemed to hold his interest for a good while. Someone who had been interestingly enough secluded herself due to her bloodlust. Keeping an eye on the woman from a distance, he made sure to remove any threats that would disturb her from refining her skills, figuring that it would be interesting to watch. He knew that supposedly she was meant to be on her own, but he was aware that being thrusted onto the dark path he had once taken wasn't so easy. So he watched her from afar as he saw, a shadow that seemed to linger in the distance.
(3,217 words, not including tl;dr)
tl;dr - Damien was merciless assassin for hire, met girl that was supposed to be his target, fell in love instead, they live happily ever after (for a bit), she is murdered, he gets badly wounded and is offered a chance for revenge, he becomes vampire and raises hell for the people who did it, he now serves the Draculini family.
Techniques
Offense Tiers
[25% of PL]
[li][OT-1] Darkness Slash[/li]
Gripping his weapon tightly, he focuses his energy into the weapon before going to swing at his enemy with reckless abandon.
[25% of PL]
[li][OT-2] Shadowed Cut[/li]
Focusing his energy very similarly to before, the blade of his weapon seems to grow a dark red in color on the edge, before he quickly slashes at his foe in a similar way to weaker version, although leaving a red trail like his Crimson Swipe.
[50% of PL]
[li][OT-1] Dark Energy Blast[/li]
Much like a simple energy blast, although it uses his dark energy as opposed to Ki, which is an energy that stems from life.
[25% of PL]
[/ul]
Support Tiers
[Is capable of flight. Granted by race.]
[li][ST-1] Blood Sense[/li]
Damien can sniff the scent of blood in the air in order to locate people. In addition to this, he can tell stronger people apart from weaker people by the specific scent they give off.
[Can sense people's presence similar to sense. Granted by race.]
[li][ST-1] Healing[/li]
Given some time, Damien's vampiric healing will take over and treat some of his wounds.
[Heals minor and medium injuries.]
[li][ST-1] Rapid Movement[/li]
By focusing on his surroundings and utilizing his vampiric power, Damien can increase his speed greatly to dodge some strikes.
[Allows him to dodge up to 100% of his PL]
[/ul]
Unique Tiers
N/A
Inventory:
500 Zeni
Old Spacepod
Valor (A transforming weapon that can change from sword to scythe and vice versa.)
Roleplay Example:
"Another!" a loud voice boomed out into the night before a group of cheers followed quickly behind, ringing out loudly throughout the rowdy bar that seemed to blast some pretty heavy metal from a modified jukebox sitting in the corner of the room. One after another, men seemed to challenge each other to drinking contests and downed their glasses as fast as they could to show how much more manly they were to each other. Some people casted some pretty nasty gazes to one another and soon those gazes instead turned to fists aimed at each other's faces. Thugs seemed to walk in with light scratches and sneers, but walk out with bruised faces instead. It seemed like one of the scummiest places on the planet. Though Damien didn't really seem to care all that much as he wiped a bit of crimson off the right side of his lower lip with the back of his hand. His crimson eyes darted down in front of him as he noticed a bum sleeping on the sidewalk before he carefully stepped over the man and began walking into the pub with a rather confident stride, albeit swaying a bit already. As soon as he stepped in and heard the music, he couldn't help but raise a brow before he smirked a bit and decided to move over to the jukebox. He crossed his arms as he scanned over the list, looking for something good that would suit his tastes. Taking a second, his eyes seemed to rest on a peculiar selection for a few moments before he moved a hand in response, pressing on the respective button. Though as soon as he hit that button, he made a point to end up hitting it several more times, chuckling a bit to himself before turning around and making his way over to the bar to sit alone at the far most end.
Tapping his fingers on the counter, Damien looked around and noticed quite a few biker types seeming to litter the bar, filling up most of the tables and some passed out onto the floor. A single waitress seemed to hurry from one table to the next, rushing around to set some drinks for the many men that loitered around the place. Bottles clanked loudly and people laughed loudly, at least when they weren't too busy picking fights with each other. As Damien surveyed the scene, he didn't seem to pay any mind to the bartender that had made his way over to him while his eyes curiously picked at each detail they could in his surroundings. Finally, a light raspy cough seemed to get him to turn his gaze, now looking at a rather old man with a huge white beard as well as a thick pair of sunglasses covering his eyes. A bandana was wrapped around his head, though Damien felt like it was more of to cover up any bald spots the geezer might have started noticing. Finally, the vampire grinned a bit before he took out a wallet and produced quite a bit of zeni. "Whiskey. And leave a bottle. . ." he paused for a moment before shaking his head. "No wait, that's not right. Leave two bottles." he corrected himself as the old man raised a brow from behind his shades before shrugging and fetching the drinks off the shelves behind him. Although Damien tried his best not to look, he could feel a gaze upon him now. Soon enough, a rather large man moved over beside him and let out a laugh.
"What is that? A cape?" the thug said in regards to the tattered cloth that seemed to hang off of Damien's back, admittedly resembling a torn up cape that a super hero might wear at the end of a movie or something. Letting out a loud laugh, he grabbed his slightly rounded tummy with one hand while the other moved to rest on the bar counter. "Oooooh, we gotta worry about some kinda justice fighter kicking our butts or something?"
Oh, they were taunting him. Damien found it fairly cute how they carried themselves so carelessly, but he figured that humans just happened to be like that. They were a foolish people who made foolish choices while living foolish lives. He knew that all too well from his very own experiences. Still, something about him wanted to provoke a fight curiously enough. He sniffed the air a bit before he grinned a little. Noticing his drinks set down in front of him, he reached out to pull off the top rather forcefully before pouring himself a glass and bringing it up to his lips, taking a quick swig before setting the glass back down, still clutching the bottle pretty hard. "Nah, I wouldn't touch your filthy ass with a. . . Well, I guess I wouldn't touch it with anything. Something might crawl up whatever I use and give me whatever messed your face up so badly." he taunted, leaning his elbows back against the bar counter as everyone else seemed to freeze and look at them. It seemed like he might've ended up making a pretty big mistake. Looking around, Damien seemed to realize that he was the largest person here in this building as well as the one with the most scars on his face.
The man appeared to be absolutely fuming, clenching his fists tightly as he looked down at the runt that had just disrespected him in front of all his boys. Maybe the punk just didn't know who he was messing with, but that wouldn't be an excuse that would fly here. Damien had called the leader out and that just simply wouldn't do. Giving a toothy grin as he eyed the man over, or at least as toothy as he could with how few remained, before holding out a hand that seemed to beacon something. "Cape. Give it." he ordered as he curled his fingers a few times suggestively.
Though in response, Damien just perked a brow up before going to give a light shrug as he lifted his bottle up to his lips, quickly chugging about half of the contents before tilting the bottle back up to keep anymore from escaping. "Sure. If I get a cape, I'll give it to ya. But I'm wearing something that you would call a cloak. I mean, you wouldn't call it that because you probably flunked out of preschool but that's what someone who wasn't a complete idiot would call it." he seemed to stack insult after insult, his smart mouth serving only to infuriate the biker boss even more than before. His gang was looking to each other wildly as they seemed to anticipate a fight coming up soon, though they didn't dare move or speak right now.
The man before him was absolutely fuming now, shaking in place a bit as he looked like he was about to pop a blood vessel from how hard he started down at Damien. If that wasn't bad enough, soon the heavy metal track that had been playing came to it's end and instead a light jazz hit played in it's place. The boss quickly looked at the jukebox with a snarl before he looked around, barking out at the bar. "Who did it?!" he lashed out at everyone, causing them to flinch back a bit in response. But only one hand seemed to raise, belonging to the same troublemaker that had been a thorn in the motorhead's side all night. Staring down at the man at first in a bit of disbelief, soon absolute rage took over as he began cracking his knuckles.
"I figured the bar could use a change of sound, ya know. It was kinda lame before with the sameish songs just playing over and over. So I decided to play my song over and over. . . Seven times." Damien explained with a large grin on his face, seeming to chuckle a bit at his own playful trick. It had for the most part actually been to get some fun out of the bar, but it appeared the vampire had managed that the moment he sat down. Still, it seemed to fan the flames a bit which still worked for him. As Damien seemed ready to take another swig of his drink with the bottle already raised to his lips, he suddenly felt a hard fist slam against his jaw, causing his lips to end up missing the top of his drink and instead pushing his head a bit to the left. Waiting for a few moments, Damien let out a chuckle as he moved his other hand up to rub his jaw curiously before finishing the swig that he meant to take previously. Pouring the liquid into his mouth, he seemed to hold a bit of it in before he turned back, shooting a bit of it out from his lips onto the man's white shirt, staining it harshly with his liquor. "Oh. Sorry about that. Late reaction I guess. But hey, I think it looks more fitting ya know? Kinda helps go for the whole piece of garbage look you were aiming for, right?" he grinned a bit.
Reeling back his arm as he only seemed to rage harder, the biker boss threw another hard punch aimed straight for the punk's face, only to have it caught midway this time in Damien's hand. "You really don't wanna do this. Just say sorry and I'll let go, alright?" the vampire tried to be reasonable, offering a way out. "Go to hell!" the biker yelled in response as he struggled to pull his hand free. With a sigh, Damien simply shook his head, clicking his tongue a bit before he tossed the bottle up before catching it upside down by the neck with the contents spilling out onto the floor beneath him. In an instant, the glass seemed to smash into the man's face, catching him by surprise as he was quiet for a few moments before he yelled out loudly in pain as he realized he had pieces of glass cut up his face. Although Damien wasn't gonna just let him go that easy as he dragged the man rather forcefully before slamming him through a table, still gripping his fist tightly as he watched the man slam through the wood like it was butter due to the amount of force the vampire chose to use. Letting out a light "Ooooh" as he saw the man slam down, he began dragging him a bit further before going to lift him up, gripping a chain that led to his pocket before breaking it in his hand, pulling the remaining strange to see a wallet dangling from the end. Letting out a light chuckle, he went to reel his arm back a bit before throwing the biker through the window, watching it shatter fairly cleanly. Rolling his arm a bit after, Damien looked around curiously to see that most of the others had chosen not to interfere, probably too frozen with fear to actually get involved in the dispute.
Blinking a few times, Damien gave a light shrug before laughing out a little bit. "So I guess drinks are on him, yeah?" he jokes as he holds up the wallet a bit. Even still, nobody really seemed to move save for the bartender who was now wiping the inside of glasses out with a rag. Turning around, Damien dug in the wallet for a bit before pulling out a credit card, tossing it over so that it lands on the bar just next to the owner. "Here you go. That should be good to pay for damages. . . Probably." he said without much confidence or much care, heading over to grip his other bottle. "And this is why you gotta order two, you know?" he chuckled a bit as he lifted the drink up to his lips after pulling off the top.
Heading outside of the bar, Damien looked around a bit curiously as he felt the night air sweep over him, giving him a bit of comfort now as he looked around a bit. Clicking his tongue a bit once more, he moved to cross the street towards an alley before feeling his foot hit something, looking down to see the same bum from earlier though now awake thanks to him. Listening to the bum groan and complain, Damien simply rolled his eyes a bit before going to toss the wallet down. "Merry Christmas. Don't spend it all in. . . Who are we kidding? You're going to just walk in there and get wasted anyways. Enjoy yourself." he stated simply as he moved his hands into his pockets and resumed his stride, glancing around curiously afterwards before a black cloud of smoke seemed to form around him. "Time to go hunting." he smirked a bit.
TWC: 2,151 + 3,217 from Bio = 5,368
Reward Requested: Zeni
Damien Draculini
Name: Damien Draculini (Formerly Damien Wei and yes, that Draculini)
Age: 635
Gender: Male
Race: Vampire (Formerly human).
Homeworld: Earth
Starting Planet: Earth
Appearance:
A man of good taste when it comes to his appearance, Dynasty likes to always look good when he can, even if he had to make some last minute adjustments during a fight. With this, he can typically be found rocking his dark black hair spiked up a bit in the back with some fairly nice bangs in the front, along with a few loose strands of hair to make the whole thing look natural. His eyes are a nice dark shade of red, a gift he received after a bit of time after his transformation. His face is typically clean save for a bit of a stubble that trails along his jaw. Like many of his kind, he happens to have a pair of unusually sharp fangs in his mouth. For the most part he has a pretty slim build, though he still seems to be in fairly good shape. His skin, while not completely chalky, is rather pale from joining the vampires. Funny enough for what he is, he seems to have a strong scent of alcohol about him.
When it comes to clothes, he tends to go for a mix of fashion and efficiency. He has royal blood to represent after all. For his upper attire, he likes to wear tailcoats with a bit of freedom for the neck (unbuttoned first couple buttons) that go down to just above the back of his knees. Underneath the collar on the left side bears a small symbol that he wears with pride for the Draculini. Underneath his coat, he wears a special kind of holster that works using magnetization, allowing his sword to seemingly stick to his back. This magnetization is controlled through the device he wears on his right wrist that seems to resemble a normal bracelet. On his actual back, he wears a tattered cape that seems to have many tears, even on the edges of it which suggest it was once part of something larger. His dress pants are simple charcoal like black that seems to cling tightly to his waist as well as his legs a bit. To top the whole thing off, he wears a pair of dark black dress shoes with a few buckles on them. All of his clothes have been specially made to fit his specific measurements.
Backstory:
While he may seem like a bit of a playful drunk without any worries in the world, Damien used to be a much different man. Once upon a time that Damien struggled to really remember anymore between his hangovers and drinks, he had worked as an assassin for hire. While he had tried to make it as a soldier at first, Damien quickly realized that the shoddy pay and taking orders didn't suit him, prompting him to instead take the role of a hitman. It was a fairly discouraged profession and one that wasn't for everyone either. Regardless of what others thought though, Damien gladly made a decent living by taking money from cheated men and scorned women looking for revenge. Often times, he would take jobs without any real regard for who he might be killing, having very few moral objections about who he might end. If they died, they just didn't have what it took to live in his eyes and they would meet their fate by his wicked scythe. While a crude and fairly outdated weapon, it seemed to hold a special place in Damien's heart for the force it held as well as the intimacy he held with someone he would kill as opposed to firearms. Besides that, it was also fairly cheap and got the job done. For the longest time, he held that ideal in his mind. While he held a few titles, his most known was Damien the Executioner, given because he seemed unfeeling as he cut down men without any regard for who they were.
That was until one night when Damien was hunting for his next assassination, a target he had been offered a ludicrous amount of money to remove from life. He was told that the woman that stood between him and a nice big cut of dosh was next in line for their family inheritance from a fading parent and the one who organized the hit wanted her gone so he would get it instead. Damien didn't particularly care about the family politics, but when he saw just how much money he would get from interfering, he had no choice but to take the job. Eyeing up a woman wearing a red cloak as she walked down the streets of a shoddy small town, he felt like she would end up as easy prey. She didn't seem to notice as he trailed her from one side of the place to the other, following her to a beaten down shack. Gripping tightly on his wicked scythe as he made his way to the door, he couldn't help but feel like there was something amiss in the air, though he couldn't hope to place the source of the disturbance in his mind. At least not until before he could move his fingers to the handle, the door already began to push towards him. Taken a bit by surprise, he stood there frozen as the door cracked open ever so slightly at first before he could clearly see the face of the person he was meant to kill. He was struck dumb in that instant as he saw the woman before him look up at him curiously for a few moments while he silently did the same. Before him now stood the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen and as he stared into her eyes, he couldn't help but feel gripped by some new emotion that tugged at his heart quite a bit when he thought of her as his target.
"Who are you?" she asked with a rather gentle voice, one which seemed to make him visibly blush as he found himself at a loss for words. As she puffed her cheeks out at his lack of response, she looked over at his hand before noticing the rather large scythe he held. Noticing her gaze, he quickly followed it before he widened his eyes as he realized that she would know what he was here for if she knew of him. He suddenly felt a bit of worry as he loosened his grip on his scythe ever so slightly, though she simply let out a chuckle after a few seconds. "You're a farmer, huh? Well please don't worry about me. Most of the town has already given me enough to survive off of for at least a few nights. But I appreciate the thought!" she commented as she opened the door a bit more and moved a hand down to gesture at a bag of rice she had sitting next to the door while giving him a light smile.
He was a bit surprised she had came to such a conclusion, but a bit of relief seemed to sweep over his mind as he slowly gave a small smile in response, seeming to feel some kind of warmth in him from her words. He seemed to lower his guard a bit, something he'd ordinarily not allow during his jobs, as he moved forward a bit and nervously stuck his hand forward to her. "I'm Dawei. . . I mean, Wein. U-Uhm. . . No wait, I'm. . ." he stumbled over his words before she lifted a finger up to his lips and gave a light giggle. "Think about it first, dummy." she playfully teased him. Taking in a deep breath, he closed his eyes for a moment before trying again. "I'm. . . Damien Wei. It's nice to meet you." he finally stated as he continued holding his hand out before feeling her grip it with both of her own and shake it a few times. "Elizabeth Valor." she spoke lightly before quickly letting her hands fall back to her sides. Looking him over a bit, Liz seemed to tilt her head a bit. "I don't think I've ever seen you around her. Are you new?" she questioned as she stepped out to circle him a bit, his eyes following her as he blushed a bit more before nodding a few times. "I. . . I'm just visiting this place and. . ." he trailed off as he watched her walk back into her home, leaving the door open. Glancing back at him over her shoulder, she lifted up the sack before heading further in. "I'm about to make dinner. You can join if you want. . . But don't eat too much!" she called out before he slowly headed in with her. They spent a couple of hours sharing laughs and having a good meal, learning a bit about each other, or at least as much as Damien could afford to tell her without exposing himself. But soon enough it grew late and Damien knew he had to go. Stepping out of the house, he glanced back behind him a bit sadly before he saw her smile at him from the door once more. "Come visit again sometime. And if you're gonna stay for dinner, bring some food too!" she giggled again before he couldn't help but smile a bit once more, nodding and heading off towards a local inn.
As he walked away that night, Damien couldn't help but feel a bit troubled. He had not only fraternized with the target and left her unharmed, but he'd also been experiencing strange sensations all night. He ate not because he was hungry, but because he wanted to spend time with her. He smiled at her words and laughed at her stories. He even shared information about himself. Almost nothing he had done had been professional, yet he had done it anyways. What was wrong with him? He gripped his head tightly in his hand while the other squeezed his scythe even harder. Soon enough, it seemed to dawn on him. He cursed himself a bit but he knew that it couldn't be anything other than love at first sight. He hated himself for letting himself be so careless. But despite how much he was annoyed with himself, he still couldn't help but feel a bit happy that they met. But now he was faced with a choice that could determine how he would live the rest of his life. Looking down at his blade, he narrowed his eyes a bit. Could he really change? How would they even make things work financially? She didn't exactly seem financially safe. What if she learned the truth about him? His mind raced with hundreds of scenarios where everything goes badly for the pair. Even still, his heart urged him on. Soon enough, such terrible visions were replaced with ones of the pair happily settled together wherever fate may send them. Once more, he felt a strange warmth fill his chest, something he could enjoy for a bit. And so he decided to give up his life as an assassin, became significantly careful with whatever money he still had, and used it to help take care of Elizabeth.
Times were hard as they tried their best to make ends meet together, but the two were quickly taken with one another. What started as casual encounters, or so she thought anyways, quickly turned into romantic meetings. They spent whatever time they could manage with each other, growing closer with each passing day. Even when they were short on money, they managed to make each other smile and took comfort in one another's company. They had some quarrels, but managed to always make up before the end of the night. Many looked upon them and thought they were a perfect pair for each other, including themselves. The shack where Damien visited soon became a home for him as he instead would come home there every day. And just as soon as times got hard, they seemed to get better when the pair learned that the woman's father had passed on and left them enough money to live a nice, simple life. The two moved out of the shack and instead found a quaint little cabin in the woods that they could live a bit more luxuriously in, though it was far from a noble's home. Still, they were grateful for what they had and for each other and it all seemed like a fairy tale ending.
That was until one day as Damien was returning from home from getting food, he heard gunshots that loudly pierced the air of the usually calm woods, stirring up worry in Damien's mind. Dropping whatever he was carrying, he quickly bolted forward along the dirt trail that led to his home, rushing to get home in hopes his beloved was still well. It didn't take long to reach the cabin, but as soon as he reached the front gate, he could only stare forward in horror as he saw what had been waiting for him. Taking a few shaky steps forward, he quickly fell to his knees and lifted the body of his love into his arms, not even taking a minute before he was reduced to a broken mess, tears running down his cheeks as he couldn't believe this would happen. But just as soon as grief gripped him, he heard a clattering inside his house and noticed his front door had still been open. He narrowed his eyes and what was sorrow quickly transformed into a great spur of rage. Moving Elizabeth's body aside and laying her down gently on a bed of flowers in front of their home, he went to his shed. Up on the wall, he found the same twisted scythe he had put away so long ago and gripped it tightly in his hand. Anger clouded his vision and controlled his actions as he moved towards the door to his home before rushing in, quickly cutting down a few men he caught off guard before taking a few shots to his chest, quickly cutting off whatever rampage he had tried to start. Within moments, a heavy pool of blood begin to form around Damien and he could tell he wouldn't survive, as did his attacker. "What idiot uses a scythe in this age anyways? Hasn't he ever heard of a gun?" they laughed a bit at his expense as he still tried to pathetically cut him down, instead only causing a light cut to them as they simply stepped over him and went outside, walking away. Coughing up blood, Damien reached out with his left arm and dragged himself back outside, leaving a large trail of his crimson essence behind as he made his way back over to his beloved, taking her hand in his as he waited for his life to get cut short.
But soon enough, Damien could hear footsteps coming from behind him. He snarled lightly as he looked to his love, figuring they were already dead as they were and he wanted to be left alone. As the figure neared closer and closer, he tried to summon the energy to fight but his body seemed to refuse to move. Within a few moments, a pair of women's shoes stood before him as he narrowed his eyes. Moving a hand, he weakly swiped at her leg without much force, not really having any energy to spare. "Pitiful thing. She's dead and the ones who did this are still out there. . . But here you lay dying." she spoke quietly. Damien could feel her stare coming down on him, but it's not like he could do much about it. His spirit was shattered and his body was broken. After a few seconds, he heard a light grunt before he noticed the woman lean down and place her bleeding hand in front of his face. "You want your vengeance, don't you? Or will you be extinguished here without any resistance? If you really want to avenge her, drink this." she offered though he didn't seem to budge. His gaze grew blurry, but he looked over to his love first. One sight of her dead form was all he needed as he pushed himself forward a bit and greedily drank the blood he was offered, the only thing on his mind was the thought of ending the lives of those who caused this. Soon enough, his heart stopped beating and he fell dead to the ground, clutching Elizabeth's hand weakly.
But soon from his death, a new sort of life spurred within Damien as his eyes reopened. He gripped at his throat tightly as he felt the inside of it burning. His eyes widened as he looked at himself, fairly certain he had passed away. He looked up and noticed the woman was gone, though her blood stained some grass petals in front of him. And then he looked to the body of his dearly beloved and his face grew dark once more. Tears ran down his face as he stared at the corpse before he lifted her up, carrying her behind the house. After a bit of time, he had finished covering a grave with a wooden plank for a tombstone that had her name inscribed on it. Heading into the house, he cleaned himself up rather quickly and noticed something familiar hanging on the coat rack he'd previously ignore often. Reaching forward, he took the red cloak she once wore, clutching it tightly to his chest for a bit before draping it around himself. With scythe in hand, he quickly found himself heading back out, sniffing the air lightly. Despite all the blood gathered around his location, one scent seemed to stand out, a scent that managed to piss him off beyond belief as he took it in. Chasing after it like a true predator, the only thing that the people saw was what seemed to be a red shroud before the met their fate. Drinking from their bodies, Damien seemed to realize just how hungry he was as he found relief in the liquid that leaked from their necks. Taking letters from the corpses of the attackers, he read it before he realized it had been the man who originally asked him to kill Elizabeth that had orchestrated the whole event. New rage built up within Damien before he began a long and bloody campaign of revenge, killing many of the man's associates before facing him and severing his connection to the world. It took years, but after everything had been done, Damien discovered that he didn't feel much better. Even after everything he put himself through, his wife was still dead and he was still alive. He looked down at his hands and wondered how long he would have to live in this terrible world until he would finally meet her. Leaving the man's shack, Damien's eyes were quickly caught by a familiar scent as he looked to the woman who had changed him into the monster he was now. She didn't even have to speak for him to realize why she was here. Narrowing his gaze a bit, he quickly listened as she explained what he was, who she was, and what he would have to do.
At first, he seemed angry and depressed over learning his fate would be eternal unless someone ended it for him. He now had a debt to pay to the woman that changed him and his service wasn't negotiable at this point. For a time, he turned to hard drinks to ease the pain in his heart that had settled were love once resided. While it didn't exactly get him hammered the way it would when he was human, it was a taste he could take comfort in and it seemed to take some of the edge off. During the nights, he would hunt scum off the streets and drink their blood for nourishment, figuring it was better than nothing, though he didn't particularly mind the taste. Time passed and eventually he picked himself up, became. . . Less of a raging alcoholic, his personality came back and he began taking his service more seriously. His heart still longed to be reunited with his beloved, but he wouldn't just throw away his life senselessly. Perhaps someday he would expire or meet his end and then he could pass on. Until then, he found himself wandering from city to city, taking tabs on whatever Draculini seemed to appear. Though out of all of them, only one seemed to hold his interest for a good while. Someone who had been interestingly enough secluded herself due to her bloodlust. Keeping an eye on the woman from a distance, he made sure to remove any threats that would disturb her from refining her skills, figuring that it would be interesting to watch. He knew that supposedly she was meant to be on her own, but he was aware that being thrusted onto the dark path he had once taken wasn't so easy. So he watched her from afar as he saw, a shadow that seemed to linger in the distance.
(3,217 words, not including tl;dr)
tl;dr - Damien was merciless assassin for hire, met girl that was supposed to be his target, fell in love instead, they live happily ever after (for a bit), she is murdered, he gets badly wounded and is offered a chance for revenge, he becomes vampire and raises hell for the people who did it, he now serves the Draculini family.
Techniques
Offensive Tree
Offense Tiers
- [OT-1] Crimson Swipe
[25% of PL]
[li][OT-1] Darkness Slash[/li]
Gripping his weapon tightly, he focuses his energy into the weapon before going to swing at his enemy with reckless abandon.
[25% of PL]
[li][OT-2] Shadowed Cut[/li]
Focusing his energy very similarly to before, the blade of his weapon seems to grow a dark red in color on the edge, before he quickly slashes at his foe in a similar way to weaker version, although leaving a red trail like his Crimson Swipe.
[50% of PL]
[li][OT-1] Dark Energy Blast[/li]
Much like a simple energy blast, although it uses his dark energy as opposed to Ki, which is an energy that stems from life.
[25% of PL]
[/ul]
Support Tiers
- [ST-1] Flight
[Is capable of flight. Granted by race.]
[li][ST-1] Blood Sense[/li]
Damien can sniff the scent of blood in the air in order to locate people. In addition to this, he can tell stronger people apart from weaker people by the specific scent they give off.
[Can sense people's presence similar to sense. Granted by race.]
[li][ST-1] Healing[/li]
Given some time, Damien's vampiric healing will take over and treat some of his wounds.
[Heals minor and medium injuries.]
[li][ST-1] Rapid Movement[/li]
By focusing on his surroundings and utilizing his vampiric power, Damien can increase his speed greatly to dodge some strikes.
[Allows him to dodge up to 100% of his PL]
[/ul]
Unique Tiers
N/A
Inventory:
500 Zeni
Old Spacepod
Valor (A transforming weapon that can change from sword to scythe and vice versa.)
Roleplay Example:
"Another!" a loud voice boomed out into the night before a group of cheers followed quickly behind, ringing out loudly throughout the rowdy bar that seemed to blast some pretty heavy metal from a modified jukebox sitting in the corner of the room. One after another, men seemed to challenge each other to drinking contests and downed their glasses as fast as they could to show how much more manly they were to each other. Some people casted some pretty nasty gazes to one another and soon those gazes instead turned to fists aimed at each other's faces. Thugs seemed to walk in with light scratches and sneers, but walk out with bruised faces instead. It seemed like one of the scummiest places on the planet. Though Damien didn't really seem to care all that much as he wiped a bit of crimson off the right side of his lower lip with the back of his hand. His crimson eyes darted down in front of him as he noticed a bum sleeping on the sidewalk before he carefully stepped over the man and began walking into the pub with a rather confident stride, albeit swaying a bit already. As soon as he stepped in and heard the music, he couldn't help but raise a brow before he smirked a bit and decided to move over to the jukebox. He crossed his arms as he scanned over the list, looking for something good that would suit his tastes. Taking a second, his eyes seemed to rest on a peculiar selection for a few moments before he moved a hand in response, pressing on the respective button. Though as soon as he hit that button, he made a point to end up hitting it several more times, chuckling a bit to himself before turning around and making his way over to the bar to sit alone at the far most end.
Tapping his fingers on the counter, Damien looked around and noticed quite a few biker types seeming to litter the bar, filling up most of the tables and some passed out onto the floor. A single waitress seemed to hurry from one table to the next, rushing around to set some drinks for the many men that loitered around the place. Bottles clanked loudly and people laughed loudly, at least when they weren't too busy picking fights with each other. As Damien surveyed the scene, he didn't seem to pay any mind to the bartender that had made his way over to him while his eyes curiously picked at each detail they could in his surroundings. Finally, a light raspy cough seemed to get him to turn his gaze, now looking at a rather old man with a huge white beard as well as a thick pair of sunglasses covering his eyes. A bandana was wrapped around his head, though Damien felt like it was more of to cover up any bald spots the geezer might have started noticing. Finally, the vampire grinned a bit before he took out a wallet and produced quite a bit of zeni. "Whiskey. And leave a bottle. . ." he paused for a moment before shaking his head. "No wait, that's not right. Leave two bottles." he corrected himself as the old man raised a brow from behind his shades before shrugging and fetching the drinks off the shelves behind him. Although Damien tried his best not to look, he could feel a gaze upon him now. Soon enough, a rather large man moved over beside him and let out a laugh.
"What is that? A cape?" the thug said in regards to the tattered cloth that seemed to hang off of Damien's back, admittedly resembling a torn up cape that a super hero might wear at the end of a movie or something. Letting out a loud laugh, he grabbed his slightly rounded tummy with one hand while the other moved to rest on the bar counter. "Oooooh, we gotta worry about some kinda justice fighter kicking our butts or something?"
Oh, they were taunting him. Damien found it fairly cute how they carried themselves so carelessly, but he figured that humans just happened to be like that. They were a foolish people who made foolish choices while living foolish lives. He knew that all too well from his very own experiences. Still, something about him wanted to provoke a fight curiously enough. He sniffed the air a bit before he grinned a little. Noticing his drinks set down in front of him, he reached out to pull off the top rather forcefully before pouring himself a glass and bringing it up to his lips, taking a quick swig before setting the glass back down, still clutching the bottle pretty hard. "Nah, I wouldn't touch your filthy ass with a. . . Well, I guess I wouldn't touch it with anything. Something might crawl up whatever I use and give me whatever messed your face up so badly." he taunted, leaning his elbows back against the bar counter as everyone else seemed to freeze and look at them. It seemed like he might've ended up making a pretty big mistake. Looking around, Damien seemed to realize that he was the largest person here in this building as well as the one with the most scars on his face.
The man appeared to be absolutely fuming, clenching his fists tightly as he looked down at the runt that had just disrespected him in front of all his boys. Maybe the punk just didn't know who he was messing with, but that wouldn't be an excuse that would fly here. Damien had called the leader out and that just simply wouldn't do. Giving a toothy grin as he eyed the man over, or at least as toothy as he could with how few remained, before holding out a hand that seemed to beacon something. "Cape. Give it." he ordered as he curled his fingers a few times suggestively.
Though in response, Damien just perked a brow up before going to give a light shrug as he lifted his bottle up to his lips, quickly chugging about half of the contents before tilting the bottle back up to keep anymore from escaping. "Sure. If I get a cape, I'll give it to ya. But I'm wearing something that you would call a cloak. I mean, you wouldn't call it that because you probably flunked out of preschool but that's what someone who wasn't a complete idiot would call it." he seemed to stack insult after insult, his smart mouth serving only to infuriate the biker boss even more than before. His gang was looking to each other wildly as they seemed to anticipate a fight coming up soon, though they didn't dare move or speak right now.
The man before him was absolutely fuming now, shaking in place a bit as he looked like he was about to pop a blood vessel from how hard he started down at Damien. If that wasn't bad enough, soon the heavy metal track that had been playing came to it's end and instead a light jazz hit played in it's place. The boss quickly looked at the jukebox with a snarl before he looked around, barking out at the bar. "Who did it?!" he lashed out at everyone, causing them to flinch back a bit in response. But only one hand seemed to raise, belonging to the same troublemaker that had been a thorn in the motorhead's side all night. Staring down at the man at first in a bit of disbelief, soon absolute rage took over as he began cracking his knuckles.
"I figured the bar could use a change of sound, ya know. It was kinda lame before with the sameish songs just playing over and over. So I decided to play my song over and over. . . Seven times." Damien explained with a large grin on his face, seeming to chuckle a bit at his own playful trick. It had for the most part actually been to get some fun out of the bar, but it appeared the vampire had managed that the moment he sat down. Still, it seemed to fan the flames a bit which still worked for him. As Damien seemed ready to take another swig of his drink with the bottle already raised to his lips, he suddenly felt a hard fist slam against his jaw, causing his lips to end up missing the top of his drink and instead pushing his head a bit to the left. Waiting for a few moments, Damien let out a chuckle as he moved his other hand up to rub his jaw curiously before finishing the swig that he meant to take previously. Pouring the liquid into his mouth, he seemed to hold a bit of it in before he turned back, shooting a bit of it out from his lips onto the man's white shirt, staining it harshly with his liquor. "Oh. Sorry about that. Late reaction I guess. But hey, I think it looks more fitting ya know? Kinda helps go for the whole piece of garbage look you were aiming for, right?" he grinned a bit.
Reeling back his arm as he only seemed to rage harder, the biker boss threw another hard punch aimed straight for the punk's face, only to have it caught midway this time in Damien's hand. "You really don't wanna do this. Just say sorry and I'll let go, alright?" the vampire tried to be reasonable, offering a way out. "Go to hell!" the biker yelled in response as he struggled to pull his hand free. With a sigh, Damien simply shook his head, clicking his tongue a bit before he tossed the bottle up before catching it upside down by the neck with the contents spilling out onto the floor beneath him. In an instant, the glass seemed to smash into the man's face, catching him by surprise as he was quiet for a few moments before he yelled out loudly in pain as he realized he had pieces of glass cut up his face. Although Damien wasn't gonna just let him go that easy as he dragged the man rather forcefully before slamming him through a table, still gripping his fist tightly as he watched the man slam through the wood like it was butter due to the amount of force the vampire chose to use. Letting out a light "Ooooh" as he saw the man slam down, he began dragging him a bit further before going to lift him up, gripping a chain that led to his pocket before breaking it in his hand, pulling the remaining strange to see a wallet dangling from the end. Letting out a light chuckle, he went to reel his arm back a bit before throwing the biker through the window, watching it shatter fairly cleanly. Rolling his arm a bit after, Damien looked around curiously to see that most of the others had chosen not to interfere, probably too frozen with fear to actually get involved in the dispute.
Blinking a few times, Damien gave a light shrug before laughing out a little bit. "So I guess drinks are on him, yeah?" he jokes as he holds up the wallet a bit. Even still, nobody really seemed to move save for the bartender who was now wiping the inside of glasses out with a rag. Turning around, Damien dug in the wallet for a bit before pulling out a credit card, tossing it over so that it lands on the bar just next to the owner. "Here you go. That should be good to pay for damages. . . Probably." he said without much confidence or much care, heading over to grip his other bottle. "And this is why you gotta order two, you know?" he chuckled a bit as he lifted the drink up to his lips after pulling off the top.
Heading outside of the bar, Damien looked around a bit curiously as he felt the night air sweep over him, giving him a bit of comfort now as he looked around a bit. Clicking his tongue a bit once more, he moved to cross the street towards an alley before feeling his foot hit something, looking down to see the same bum from earlier though now awake thanks to him. Listening to the bum groan and complain, Damien simply rolled his eyes a bit before going to toss the wallet down. "Merry Christmas. Don't spend it all in. . . Who are we kidding? You're going to just walk in there and get wasted anyways. Enjoy yourself." he stated simply as he moved his hands into his pockets and resumed his stride, glancing around curiously afterwards before a black cloud of smoke seemed to form around him. "Time to go hunting." he smirked a bit.
TWC: 2,151 + 3,217 from Bio = 5,368
Reward Requested: Zeni