Post by clayton drake mckinney on May 15, 2013 20:04:30 GMT
clayton drake mckinney
Hey, my name is... Clayton Drake McKinney
But most call me... Clayton. What else would they call me?
If you want to, you can label me... heterosexual
I've been on this earth for...533 years
Which means I was born... 9th May 1480
My blood runs with... Fire Faerie x Vampire
I'm a... teacher
And only a... business studies teacher
My eyes are... brown
And my hair is... brownish-grey
One could say... I'm rather okay-looking, despite my age. While I'm by no means overly tall- as a matter of fact, I'm not that far over average- people are always aware I'm around. My features are yet to be altered with my age, and I'm rather handsome considering it. I wouldn't state for a moment that I'm exactly the most ravishing of men, I'm most certainly not the ugliest.
I'm normally seen wearing... anything, as long as it's smart; most commonly, full suits, at the very least, a shirt and suit trousers. One has to look their best for any occasion, after all.
And I supposedly look like... Colin Firth
All round, I'm... cold. I say that, but I'm only scathing when it's necessary, which is a lot of the time. When you've been on this Earth for over five hundred years, you begin to feel as if you have a larger collection of knowledge than other individuals. It's not so much that I'm mean, as I'm far more acquainted with the ways of the world than younger people and simply wish to share my expertise. There are some issues with being older, of course- for example, my language is perhaps a little... dated... but I'm still perfectly understandable for the most part. On occasion, it might take slightly more brainpower to decipher my speech, but people are always in need of using their minds a little bit more. People of this generation are so much more lazy than they were when I was a boy...
I'm powerful, too. It might seem like I'm bragging, but honestly it's simply the truth- I fought in the war, felled many enemies, and it was simply as the centuried passed by that my powers grew and I became stronger. I try not to let my strength get the better of me, but every now and again I forget and make a little slip. I might, in this process, hurt someone- I'm not going to deny that that's happened in the past- but everyone makes mistakes now and again, right?
I'm in love with...dogs- the only animals that like me, the night, making decisions for others, music (at least the good music, not the idiotic tunes famous in the modern day), giving out advice, at least to those who appreciate it.
Though I detest... my own son, cats, water, loneliness, ridiculous clothing- people have to be presentable, and definitely not in the brightly coloured garb certain individuals wear today.
But my best assets are... my power (most of the time) and my dedication to tasks.
However my worst... my attraction to blood- although it is sort of inevitable- and my lack of empathy. I have enough of my own troubles; I'm not about to take on someone else's as well.
And I dream of... making sure Brent McKinney gets the punishment he deserves for the crimes he has comitted.
My life story... I was born in Tudor England, in the late 1400s, to the name Henry. Yes, I am aware that I'm old. My mother- a human, and therefore weaker to the illnesses of the times- died in childbirth, so I never was able to talk to her. At times in my childhood, I regretted being brought up with only one parent, but I also considered myself lucky- many children that I used to associate myself with would have neither parent as they both would have died young- and I had the privilege of being brought up by a man stronger than the majority of people around him; my father, a soul faery.
My father, although an old parent, was wonderful- he brought me up as best he could, teaching me anything he knew about the ways of the world when I was still young and starting to train me in the art of controlling my powers. Since we weren't a rich family at the time- it was the Tudor period, no-one except the monarchs were all that rich- I had no real education, but I still seemed to have a far better knowledge of the world than any of my peers did. Even to this day, I know I had my father to thank for that.
My childhood flew past rather quickly- being a faery, I was aware that age didn't particularly concern me. I knew I'd be outliving my peers by a long way, and I found this far more pleasurable than I probably should have done: the thought of my 'friends', who all revered me in a way that wasn't too far off being its own religion (they were all perfectly aware I was stronger than them, despite the fact I never directly showed my power to them) rotting in their graves as I still walked the earth with strength in my bones filled me with a sense of glee that was slightly unnatural, but understandable in a way. After all, it was rather exciting that I could see far more of the world than they would ever be able to.
When I was about fifty, and my father had taught me everything he was able to, he revealed his powers to a mortal. The witchfinders discovered the event, and he was caught for the crime of witchcraft as was to be burnt at the stake. It was a mistake on his part and it was quite possible that I could have done something to stop it, I wasn't about to intefere with the trifles of mortals. My life was just beginning; I wasn't about to throw it away by getting into trouble by saving a man who I no longer needed to survive. If it wasn't necessary, I wasn't prepared to take the risk; I didn't wish to pay a price if it was likely to be too high. I wasn't heartless enough to watch my father die, I was just aware of it; I never once regretted my decision, as it enabled me to live for far longer.
I drifted through the first hundred years or so of my life, not regretting the time I spent due to the fact I knew I still had a lot more time to come. I did nothing in this time period; despite the fact I was at the prime age to marry, I had no interest in any of the women around me, despite the fact some of them practically threw themselves at my feet. I could understand for them that marriage was important to them and their short, pitiful lives; but to me and my young, optimistic mind, such things held no importance. I could marry in a hundred years time and I'd still be youthful.
The next hundred years, I spent with a little more importance. I went around taverns and inns, looking for others of my kind, or for werewolves, vampires, or other varieties of the supernatural. My investigation revealed there were far more hidden away than I had previously assumed, and I began to make contacts that I would keep in touch with via letter for at least the next hundred years; I lost count of the decades over time. Later on in this century, I started hearing rumours of a war. The event in itself feels such a long time ago now, but I imagine that I would have been around 250 at the time, or something close to that. At first, I wasn't sure what I could do, but I later decided to join the cause; even though at two and a half centuries old, some people would consider me aging, I was still relatively young and was perfectly capable of fighting.
I like to believe that I was a valuable asset in the fight, although it is doubtful. I felled many of the enemy, although the war deeply affected me mentally and emotionally- for a long time, it left me with scars that could not be healed. I'd grown a lot more powerful in the duration of the war, and while it was helpful to me, my emotional troubles left me in a large predicament. I'd been fighting the war for two hundred years, and was starting to bow under the weight of conflict- I wasn't sure how much more I was able to withstand. I had two options: continue through to the wars' end, and living with the inevitable insanity I would have; or retreat somewhere unaffected by the conflict to live a happier life and heal my wounds.
I decided to go for the second option, which humiliated me. No-one from the time of the Tudors would ever flee from battle; it simply wasn't done. I saw no other option, and while I was embarrassed by my resolution, I was rather sure it was that which saved my life. I fled to America, the apparent 'country of dreams', when I was around 450, having plans to set up a family and never get involved in conflict again. I changed my name to Clayton, a title that I was aware was a common American name, in the hope it would make me less noticeable: I don't believe it worked all that well.
I ended up in Las Vegas, which is certainly... an eventful place. It was here that I met Madison, a woman whom I almost instantaneously fell in love with; she later revealed to me that she was a siren. Since we were both races that would live for a long time, we knew that our relationship wouldn't have to be rushed; but despite this, we were married and had a child within the space of twenty-five years. Without realising it, I had replicated what my father had done; I was an older man with a younger wife. Madison was around 200, or so I believed- it would have been rude to ask, so I never did. The child, a boy, we named Brent, and he was to be the star of our lives- that was the plan, anyway. Throughout Brent's childhood, we gave him anything he wanted, and he seemed to have no problem with it- we were great parents to him, even If I do make the claim myself. It was when he had graduated from school that he decided he'd had enough of being cared for: being an only child must have meant he'd thought that it was acceptable to talk to his parents in the dismissive way he'd adopted. I wished to put him in his place and let him know that it wasn't okay, but didn't, because Madison told me to leave him be. I regret my decision to follow her wished daily, because if I hadn't there would be a strong chance that she'd still be with me today.
Brent must have been nineteen at the time, and he was going through troubles. I could understand that; I knew a lot about struggling with power. I had been when I was his age. I tried to help him, but he pushed me away. I didn't think too much of it until it was too late: Brent had started a fire, and escaped. I was a powerful man- I escaped the fire easily enough. But Madison... she wasn't as fortunate. I miss her so dearly, and no-one will ever understand that. I loved her so, so much... and she was gone. It made me so angry, and I became fixated on a sense of revenge. Brent had to pay for what he'd done- he couldn't deserve to keep his life after taking someone else's.
I spent the last two decades searching around, looking for the man I was ashamed to call my son. On my travels, I was bitten by a vampire, and despite the fact I was now tempted by blood far too easily, I didn't care. All I cared about was getting revenge, and the only thing that crossed my mind was that being a vampire couldn't make me any weaker, only stronger. I realised rather quickly that Brent was unlikely to still be in America, so I made my way back to the place I had fled earlier in my life: England. it seemed like the likeliest place he would go.
I only recently discovered Northvale, and it is the last straw. If he's not here, he could be practically anywhere, and I might have to give up my search... I have no desire to do that. My Madison deserves to be avenged... and I shall find Brent, if it is the last thing I do.
I was born to... Nicholas and Mary
My ooc name is... Nell
And I've been roleplaying... six months
The Secret Word is... PASSWORD ACCEPTED
