Post by Luka Neverov on May 24, 2011 9:33:45 GMT -6
Luka Nikolai Neverov
I know some things that you don’t
I’ve done things that you won’t
There’s nothing like a trail of blood
to find your way back home
I was waiting for my hearse
What came next was so much worse
It took a funeral to make me feel alive
Full Name: Luka Nikolai Neverov
Nicknames: 'The Artist' ( because of the way he displays his victims in macabre ways) and sometimes 'Reverend' (because of the name of his club and the way he delivers people to their fate by way of the dark kiss or the drug he sells)
Physical Age: well over a hundred years old
Date of Birth: April 17
Hometown: Moscow, Russia
Current Residence: New Orleans
Occupation: Death Dealer, Club owner, Artist...psychotic murderer
Relationship Status: who would want him? SINGLE
Character Type: Vampire
Affiliations: Chaotic Evil
Gender: Male
Hair: dark brown/ almost black and usually in a complete disarray as if it has a mind of its own
Eyes: dark brown/ almost black
Height: 6'3"
Weight: 175 lbs
Body Type: Luka is tall and sinewy; well defined but not overly bulky
Best Feature: His creativity. Oh, what beautiful things he can do with blood and/or entrails
Worst Feature: His impatience, um...the fact he plays with his 'food', his irrational beliefs of conspiracies against him...you choose.
Sexuality: Since the act of drinking blood is erotic for Luka, and he feeds from both men and women. Bisexual most adequately describes him. However, he will only take a woman (or women) to bed.
Personal Style: Luka’s personal style can best be described as simple; your typical ‘boy-next-door’ type. He generally wears what is comfortable or ‘in fashion’ for his surroundings, but usually it is dark in nature.
Face Claim: Ian Somerhalder
Abilities: normal vampiric abilities-- immortality, strength speed, endurance.
Flesh-crafting-- the ability to alter the bodies of living and undead organisms, even to the point of melting them. He will often "fleshcraft" himself into forms he believes to be beautiful and/or terrifying. [example]
Personality:
Luka is cool, calm, and collected on the outside (He is a very good actor) but on the inside he is impulsive and generally quite insane.
The Russian finds beauty in the most horrific of things; blood, entrails, various stages of a decay on the human body. He is an artist, and as such, he tends to view things from that point of view. He becomes detatched; looking at the scene playing out before if as if merely glancing at a painting on the wall.
He is cold and heartless and enjoys causing pain as much as he does feeling it. He has no empathy for others. To the Russian they are but feelingless characters in the novel of his life.
Though he is mostly very composed, at times Luka looses it, and will explode at the drop of a hat. He doesn’t trust anyone, and will often imagine bizarre conspiracies against him. He is very devious and will most likely act very sincere to your face while he is planning something sinister against you. He can also be very persuasive, especially with females, as he will flirt his pants off just to get you to trust him. Though he is a heinous villain, he is very playful too. He likes to have a good time; Just don’t get too comfortable with him, he tends to bite.
Likes:
• Excruciating pain
• Blood-curtling screams
• Fine art
• Torture devices
• Chaos
• Blood...lots and lots of blood..in his mouth, on the walls...everywhere.
Dislikes:
• Law and order
• Being under someones thumb
• Silence
• Gum-chewing
• When the pain goes away
Strengths:
• Supernatural strength
• Supernatural speed/endurance
• Calmness in even the most chaotic situations
• Fearlessness
• Persuasiveness
Weaknesses:
• Impulsiveness
• Sunlight
• Schizophrenia
• Pain...or rather, the addiction to it.
Mother: unknown-- killed after his birth
Father: Andrei Neverov
Siblings: A number of them, though the vampire neither cared to know them, or if they survived his rampage or not.
Others: neit
Bio:
Luka was the progeny of an ancient clan of vampires. These ancient monsters were the quintessential vampires. While other vampires desperately tried to retain their human nature, this powerful clan actively sought to divorce themselves from it. Accordingly, the coven had developed some of the most bizarre, alien, and (from a mortal perspective) horrific practices known among vampires-- an ability called flesh-crafting with which they would transform themselves into horrifyingly beautiful creatures. The clan also used the flesh manipulating power to torture their victims.
The coven was so old and jaded they had become fastidious about to whom they would bestow the dark gift, and so the only humans they felt worthy of the embrace were the male descendants of the lineage.
These progeny were raised in wealth and privilege; all but sheltered from the harsh outside world, but there was a price to pay for the concession... the dark gift that was to come. The male children were tortured and fed from, a process the clan used to wash away the human weakness they were instinctually born with. The children would lose all contact with the concepts of mercy, compassion, or moral or ethical value as understood by the human mind.
A young Luka cried at first, fought the vampires, but then he began to enjoy the pain...
Luka felt the blood lust even before the embrace. As a child he would often torment small creatures, even going as far as intentionally hurting other children his age. As he grew older he found he had penchant for pain, and would deliberately mutilate his own body, as well as those of others. By the time he was 18 he had already murdered seven people, including two children under the age of 3. He felt nothing for them...no remorse, no sorrow, only joy in hearing their screams and tasting the sweet life essence drain from them.
Besides the pain and torture, the only thing Luka had a passion for was art. He would create masterpieces in the blood and entrails of his victims, finding pleasure in sending the works of art to the family’s of the victims.
The clan, who loathed to be discovered by the inconsequential humans, grew tired of Luka’s tirades, punishing him even more.
When he finally received the dark gift on his 25th birthday, it was more than Luka had ever imagined. The thirst was so commanding, so utterly excruciating, it was better than he could have ever dreamed.
At first, he was ravenous, terrorizing the city of Moscow in a bloody feeding spree. Eventually though, he learned that the thirst would become more agonizing the longer he would wait to feed, and so he would intentionally hold off on taking blood until the pain was unbearable. Again, he almost enjoyed the pain as much as the blood itself.
As well as torturing himself, he began sharing the painful embrace, leaving a slew of neophyte vampires in his wake.
The clan, who felt they were wholly superior to other Kindred, watched Luka’s behavior with disgust, believing his mind was far too gone to handle the embrace and the responsibility that came along with it. It was prohibited for one so young to share the dark gift, especially to those petty humans who did not warrant it.
Unfortunately, Luka over heard the elders speaking of a plan to destroy him and so he made the first move. The night of the clan’s demise, Luka sealed the all possible exits and set their safe haven ablaze. Only the Moscow clan was destroyed and Luka knew they would soon begin the hunt for him. The vampire immediately fled his country, believing the safest place to hide for now was the states.
Once there he began yet another murderous rampage, leaving a trail of blood and chaos in his wake.
Once again, he took up the habit of creating works of art from his victims, but this time selling them to different museums and dealers. His medium was unknown to them, of course, further exciting the vampire.
Luka, who had also begun the practice of resisting the thirst and inviting the pain again, sometimes grew disoriented by it. He lost focus, and this was something he couldn’t allow.
To remedy this problem, Luka kidnapped a young college student. He altered his appearance into a horrifying and dreadful monster, keeping her hostage in her own apartment for the purpose of feeding from her when he needed. He never showed his true face to her, enjoying the fact that to her, he appeared something straight out of her nightmares.
However, Luka grew tired of the charade, leaving the young woman for dead. He continued on his tirade of terror, moving on from place to place and leaving the horrifying and bloody human masterpieces behind...
Having retained quite a bit of wealth from selling his works macabre works of art commissioned by affluent private collectors as well as commissions from businesses and galleries, the Russian decided that hiding under the radar was simply not his style.
He purchased an abandoned gothic church and turned into after hours nightspot and underground fight club, catering to all, but especially those like him that craved blood and violence.
He became the archetypal dealer of darkness; selling death and sex, and eventually madness when he found that a small number of his patrons dealt drugs within his club. Unable to abide that anyone would make profit besides him, Luka perfected his own brand of intoxicant; mixing the heroin that was being sold with drops of his immortal blood. Examination on human test subjects revealed that not only did the concoction get them high but also left them with a lingering hunger for blood which in many cases drove the subject insane. The minute amount of vampire blood did not ‘turn’ them, but the thirst was maddening, and to the human, unexplainable.
Luka is a businessman. A death dealer. A dark angel to deliver you to your destiny...
RP Sample:
Having just had his release and now that the human’s blood was moving rapidly through his veins and feeding the hunger that usually clawed at his insides like an unbridled beast within him, Luka was as calm as he would ever be. The uncontrollable tempest that usually rolled violently in his head had stilled to a meager thunderstorm; the hunger merely tugging lightly at his gut instead of ripping at his belly with razor sharp talons.
Luka, usually a monster, was something like a man.
Obsidian eyes roamed the club like a predator tracking his prey, but as his thirst was staved for the moment, prey meant entirely something different to the vampire.
The smell of sweet liquor, sweat and desire was thick in the air; almost as much as an intoxicant as the blood that had settled nice and warm in his belly. The Russian came out from behind the bar and leaned backwards on it; sipping slowly at his chalice and swishing the blood around over his tongue like sampling a fine wine. Pity after leaving the vein it grew so cold so fast. A slight wince came to his boyish face, and disappointed he set the goblet down and then pounded a fist twice on the mahogany counter in order to get the distracted tender’s attention. Recoiling as if his inattentiveness had been the worst of crimes, the bartender nodded and retrieved a bottle of top shelf Russian Vodka and poured it out into a tumbler with just a drop of crimson from the fount.
With a bowed head as if the vampire was royalty (which wasn’t far from the truth in the human’s eyes) he placed the cocktail in front of the Russian and tentative slipped away to attend to the next customer.
Luka wrapped a cold white hand around the glass and took a long pull; letting out a sigh of satisfaction as the icy liquid and blood went down his throat like a winter kiss. It settled in his belly cool and invigorating, and started a nice buzz in his frenzied head.
Once again his gaze roamed the crowd, and he inhaled deeply; allowing the mingling scents to invade his nostrils, picking out the one he was looking for like a wild beast would tracking it’s target. A whisper of a smile curved his lip when he found the unique aroma of the one that he was looking for. Stale smoke and the faintest hint of dried blood from the scabbing track marks on the inside of his arm; the drug addict was easy to find. The human was rotting from the inside out; self inflicted disease from all the drugs he had taken into his body.
And Luka meant to push him just a little further into the grave. He shoved a pale hand into the pocket of his jeans and fingered the scarlet colored rocks fairly burning a hole in his pocket.
Oh yes. Luka was a drug dealer. He was a pain dealer. He was a death dealer.
The little iridescent stones in his pocket were one of the most addictive drugs money could buy; heroin mixed with just a drop of his very own potent blood; he had christened the intoxicant with the name CRIMSON.
The heroin in and of itself was effective; but after the high wore off, the user would wake up with a thirst like they had never known. He would feel as if that thirst could never be quenched; it would drive the user to brink of insanity unless...unless they found the cure for said thirst if they happened to suck on a paper cut or order their steak very rare.
Of course, the mere drop of vampire blood wasn’t enough to bequest the junkie with the dark gift; but it was enough to drive him insane.
Ah yes. He was also a lunacy dealer. It brought a chuckle from the Russians lips.
Luka placed his drink on the counter and moved towards the junkie, but was halted by a strong hand on his shoulder. Hissing, the vampire turned to gaze on the fiend, but relaxed immediately as he gazed into the stoic face of the massive bald-headed vampire.
Nicolai was a ‘bouncer’ for the club, but much, much more. As the true owners of FANG were elders with far too much clout to show their faces at the bar, in their stead Nicolai made sure everything ran smoothly. This included all side dealings that took place within the club. As Luka’s dealings and reputation here were well known, Nik had been engaged to keep an extra eye on him. Of course, they hadn’t foreseen that the large vampire and Luka would hit it off so well. Nicolai was from a small suburb near Luka’s hometown; had left the country to escape the tyrannical rule of the Elders in Moscow a few years before Luka. Though Luka wouldn’t call the man a comrade, he had no desire to paint his blood all over the walls. He was a close to being a friend as Luka had ever had.
“Your shirt comrade.” Nikolai said bluntly in a thick Russian brogue. His voice was a growl and his expression empty, but amusement danced in his blue eyes. He plucked a black cotton button down from a hat rack behind him and tossed it at Luka, and the Russian chuckled dryly. Oh yes. Appearances were everything in this club, and since he was conducting business, his appearance reflected on the bar’s reputation.
Luka pulled the black shirt on over the bloody white tee; rolling up the sleeves so that his forearms were still exposed. He turned back toward the big bouncer and extended his arms as if wordlessly asking if his emergence was acceptable and then clicked his tongue when Nikolai gave him a big toothy grin.
Enough time wasted, Luka pushed a hand into his pocket and fisted the Crimson; his expression dark as he turned to once again face the dance floor. A tut of annoyance escaped the vampire when he realized the junkie had moved from his position, and the scent was indiscernible amidst the other human aromas. A low growl crawled up from his throat as he picked up his vodka and took a heavy swallow, and his onyx eyes caught two azure gems glancing at him with apparent curiosity a moment before she turned her face away. Oh, wonderful distraction. For the moment the junkie was lost from the Russian’s thoughts.
The ghost of a smile crawled over his devious face as the vampire approached the female; his eyes drifting over her too poised form before leaning casually on the bar next to her. She was too perfect; too refined. A concrete angel.
Luka imagined all that refinement gone and the little female vampire covered in the ruby stains of her victim’s blood. It made a much better picture.
“Your elegance does not fit in vith this crowd.” Luka told her in rumble of a voice and his Slavic accent was thick and dark like a stout beer. “Are you lost, leetel vone?” He asked her, and there was mocking tone to his question; as if he were addressing a child.
