William Khadim

Whether the rumours were true or not, William would never know the answer. One day when he was in his mid teenage years, his mother died and at the first oportunity the ringmaster's wife sold him as a servant to the first wealthy person she could, for any price he would fetch. For five bits of copper and a piece of silver, William was put into the service of an odd man who would not set foot in the light of day and appeared never to eat... Though he certainly had an appetite for buxom young women, and he would never have the same one twice.

Four or five years into service of his master, they were found stranded in the nobleman's winter home. The snowfall was too heavy to go in to town, and they began to run out of food. One by one the servants began dying in their beds, though the bodies never recieved a proper burial. Instead they were put into the stew pot for the servants who were still alive come morning and no one dared comment on their lack of blood. It continued like this for some time until only William and his master remained. Fearing he might be next, the young man devised a plan to ensure his survival.

Though his master showed a clear preference for women, William managed to take advantage of his built up lust and in the throes of passion convinced his master to make them alike. The old creature - wrapped neatly around the young human's finger - turned his servant, draining him of one life for another. No record was kept for the rest of the winter, but when the snows thawed the master of the estate was found as a shrivveled corpse on the floor of the bedchambers.

Some decades later, William resurfaced with a travelling circus Not unlike the one in which he grew up. He performed as an acrobat for many years until people began to grow suspicious of his lack of aging. After that, he left the group and was listed among the "missing" performers that had grown to quite a long list over the many years. Since then, he wandered, trying to find a place to be and a new master to serve, one with power. He gained skills in the form of very specific magics, and made himself useful to many powerful people over the years, though the angel faced demon was more likely to leave with a full stomach than a full purse.

Not particularly tall, the top of this vampire's head tends to only reach most people's shoulders, though the way he stands tends to give the impression to others that they may be misjudging his height and he is much taller than he is. His skin is pale, bloodless, but still appears slightly tanned and healthy from all the years he spent out in the sun prior to his turning. (After all, sun damage doesn't quite go away.) His eyes are light, but they can appear anywhere between blue and green depending on the light. His hair is curly and kept just past his jaw - past the shoulder when wet - and is dark blond in colour. There is a wide scar over the right side of his collar bone, paler than the surrounding skin, and several similar healed gashes along his spinal column and hips. There is a formless, dark-brown birthmark on his left shoulder, large enough to completely cap the shoulder and span down towards both the collar bone and the shoulder blade. And though he does not appear to be very large, he does have a fair amount of muscle mass and should not be taken lightly.

Manipulative. William does whatever needs to be done in order to survive and advance in life. If he feels any form of loyalty to someone, he will then do whatever it takes to please them and place himself in their good graces. He's attracted to power and can be very transparent when he's not pleased about something. He attempts to emotionally distance himself from everyone, though sometimes forms attachments to people and gets hurt by them.

When asked to describe his sexuality, he uses the phrase "mostly homosexual" though truly his sexuality is defined by what the situation demands of him. Should he need to appear to be or act as though he is heterosexual, he can and will so long as it means he gets what he wants. Additionally, he prefers not to wear clothes and therefore wears light things or as little as possible, rarely ever shoes.

The note was left on Tristian's pillow, in the place of the large, warm body that was usually there when the vampire woke each afternoon. It was a bit early, but his lord and lover tended to be a "day person" and so he'd adjusted, waking when the sun was still high in the sky. Currently, the pet was looking down at the note, sheets pooled around his slim hips as he held the scrap of parchment in trembling hands.

Tristian was gone. He'd left in the middle of day, and even if the vampire had been awake, there would have been no way to follow. The drapes were still drawn tightly over the window, preventing him from going - as his lord used to say - fizzle-pop in the harmful rays. Clearly, he was meant to survive this in some way or another, though the pain and numbness he felt spreading through his chest led him to believe otherwise.

It was difficult to believe that he was all alone here, now. Yes, the paeons were long gone, but they'd set up here. They were still working with the Marquis here. There were things that needed doing and suddenly Tristian was gone? William was alone? There was no one to follow. No one to please. It seemed as though their efforts were going to be abandoned here, along with one wayward vampire who was left with the empty shell of a mannor and nothing to eat but rats until sundown. After that, there was nothing, not a damn thing for miles. But he could do this. He'd done it before. He survived that winter when he was still mortal and almost died, he'd survived much worse than this...

Throwing back his head, tangled golden hair slid down his back as his mouth opened and he let loose a shriek that tore from the very pit of his soul. Hands came up to the sides of his head and he clawed at his scalp and face, chunks of skin, flesh, and hair ripped forcefuly beneath his talon-like nails. Tristain could not be gone. He would not be abandoned like this. He would not be simply cast aside like one of those worthless little mortal maggots that crawled below them before they were sent away only days before. This was unacceptable.

When his shrieks died down, the vampire pressed bloodied fingertips to his throat tenderly, feeling it as though it would soothe the raw feeling inside of him. Everything hurt and everything was numb all at once. William slid back into the bed, grasping Tristian's pillow and pulling it to his chest. Precious blood stained the sheets, tears flowing freely down his cheeks to mingle with the almost brown fluid. Everything would be okay. It was all just a bad dream. Tristian would scold him for sleeping too long and he would go to the catacombs to torment their guests. Everything was okay. He wasn't gone. Everything would be o--.