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Name: Donovan/Donnie Darko Age: Twenty Birthdate: November, 6, 1991 Species: Slayer Personality: Donovan is very dark, artistic and a tad psycho. He has paranoid schizophrenia and talks to himself if not with company, but don't let that put you off, he's kind and enjoys the company of others. He is unpredictable though he's always kind when others are as well. Background: Donnie was always sensitive to the paranormal, his “imaginary” friend was the spirit of a ten year old boy who had been struck by a fallen electrical line in the nineteen forties from age five to eleven. He waved to his friends whenever they drove passed the cemetery, none of which his parents could see. Mr. and Mrs. Darko began to worry about their little Donnie when this little childhood quirk didn’t stop when he reached the age of thirteen. One day, they brought him to see a psychologist, their anxiety rising as Donnie snickered and talked to the air about how silly this all was. Alone in the doctor’s office, this concerned the psychologist; Dr. Delemonte. “Tell me, Donovan, who are you talking to?” asked Delemonte. “Johnny… Hey now, be nice, it’s not his fault he’s lost it,” Donnie replied before looking to his left to address the spirit he was also conversing with. “Can you tell me about Johnny? Also, what have I lost?” Delemonte asked with a raised eyebrow. Donnie sighed. “Johnny died twenty years ago in the bathroom down the hall, slipped on a puddle by the sink and knocked himself pretty hard in the temple, a skull chip lodged in his left frontal lobe and he also broke his neck but neither were the real cause of death; the sudden slip triggered a massive heart attack… He scared himself to death. And what you’ve lost is your innocence. You think ghosts and demons are all imaginary and childish because you were taught that they weren’t logical, that’s why Johnny hates psychologists, you’re all logic and when you can’t explain something you slap a disorder on it. I happen to agree.” Delemonte grunted as he wrote something on his yellow legal pad. “What else does Johnny tell you?” Donnie’s face twisted in a look of personal disgust and disbelief, this doctor wasn’t really listening to him or taking him seriously, Johnny was totally right. So just to mess with the doctor, Johnny told Donnie to make up something crazy. “Johnny tells me to set things on fire, carve symbols on my door, and flash a light at the sky every three point twenty-five hours to keep the CIA’s tracking satellite off my trail.” Donnie said with a laugh, how stupid was that? But Delemonte didn’t get the joke, he looked stunned and somewhat horrified. Three hours later, Donnie found himself in a little padded room, checked into the psychiatric hospital. His parents almost seemed to forget he was there after that, not wanting their friends to know their son was a demented lunatic. If Donnie wasn’t crazy before, three years of forced medication and horrible night terrors as a result of said forced medication sure made him crazy. He had been admitted with paranoid depression with audio and visual hallucinations but soon progressed to paranoid schizophrenia. There was no one to visit Donnie after his mental break, his family disowning him and refusing to visit on any occasion. But when Donnie turned seventeen, a dark stranger with a thick Transylvanian accent came to visit him. Donnie hid from the man the moment he saw him, knowing the too pale creature was a vampire. “Don’t let him near me! He’s a vampire! He wants to kill me!” Donnie screamed. No one took him seriously and locked him in a visiting room with the charming Transylvanian Count. “My my little Darko, you are quite talented in recognizing the undead.” The vampire smiled. “I’m used to the dead… They never leave me alone… Delemonte! Let me out of here! I’ll take the pills damn it just get me out of here!” Donnie shouted at the door. “There’s no need to shout for the doctor Donovan, he von’t be bothering us for a vhile. I’ve seen to that. But please, don’t think this as a threat. I’m here to give you a proposition.” Donnie raised a skeptical eyebrow, this vampire was nothing like the ones he’d read about. “What kind of proposition?” “I free you from this asylum, you live with me.” “Ew.” “Oh please, Mr. Darko. I’m not that vay. I have dignity and class. I merely mean that it’s cheaper to buy a house if vone has a dependent vith them. Not that money is much of a concern to me, still, it gets you out of here and a home to go to.” “Why the fuck do you even care? No one cares about me.” “Because I know vhat it is like to be ignored by vones family and lose vones sanity.” “I’m-‘m not crazy.” Donnie muttered. “That’s vhat Renfield said,” the vampire mused. “I don’t eat bugs Dracula,” Donnie retorted, sticking his tongue out. “I haven’t been called that in close to two centuries, I have no intention of bringing it back any time soon.” Donnie laughed. “You’re Dracula?” “The vone and only. But my name is actually Vladis Draguli.” The Count bowed his head. “Okay Vladis. You want an unpredictable schizophrenic who won’t take medication on your hands, I’ll let you spring me. But don’t even think about biting me or I’ll pull a Van Helsing on you and you’re ending up how you did in the book.” He threatened. “Fair enough Donovan, I have no interest in blood that is not villingly given anyvays. Be at your vindow at sunset tomorrow.” Vladis nodded before walking out of the room. Donnie did his best to behave the rest of the night and all of the next day so as not to be put in the isolation room. And just as the sun set behind the horizon to hide for the night, Vladis appeared at Donnie’s window and all too easily lifted the locked pane and pulled apart the iron bars that made escape impossible for humans. “I’m definitely going to like hanging with you,” Donnie commented, hopping out of the window and landing with a roll two stories down, a backpack was all he had for his belongings. There was yet another vampire awaiting young Darko when he reached the sleek, black hearse that Vladis drove (how appropriate for a vampire). Gin Ryu was the other, and was rather unenthusiastic about Donnie joining them. In fact, Gin had no reaction at all, because he had no emotion. Donnie was rather intrigued by Gin, and with the two being very adept at fighting (not to mention unpredictable), they took to sparing with one another to keep their skills sharp. Now Donnie lives in this vampiric city in a house that seems to constantly take in more people, he jokes with himself that Vladis hunts for strays to bring home and fill the many empty rooms. Along with Gin and Vladis, there are two other vampires: Annalease Wice, whom he knows very little of; Zephan MacManus, an ancient vampire that feeds from regular vampires, she’s more like his older sister and he sees her true form as a veil over her human one, but it’s the most comforting of the nightmares he sees daily; and most recently, Lullaby Lazarus, a human who has seemed to have captured more than just Vladis’ attention these days. Anything else: He plays guitar and likes to skateboard when he’s upset to calm down. He can be nerdy sometimes too and likes to play video games, especially Tekken. Picture: 
Name: Luke Dillinger Age: 274 Species: Bitten Personality: He used to be a cold, controlling manipulative bastard. His dark human past controlled his anger and his anger controlled him far longer than it should have. He ended up hurting those around him he never meant to, mostly his brother Sam, but with the help and tough love of his good friend and fellow German, a Lamia named Crimson Nightshade, he has let go of his hate. Though he still has a bad temper, he's learned to control it much better. Background: Luke, along with his fraternal twin brother were brought up by their abusive, manipulative father. By the time the boys were six they had several bones broken, Luke became the protector of his brother and in turn learned his fathers manipulative ways to keep his brother safe from their father. One winter when they were fifteen, Luke had taken his brother from the house when their father started to drink heavily, knowing by the time he finished his fifth stein of beer one of them was going to be his punching bag. Sam was always timid and frightened when he knew he was in danger, he was almost in hysterics, clinging to Luke. Aggravated by Sam's excessive whimpering and clinging, Luke stuck him in a tavern to keep him warm and take a break from his annoying sibling. "Samuel, you are annoying the Hell out of me, your whimpering is irritating and like nails on a blackboard. Shut up and stay here, get warm. I will return soon to get you." He would regret this, these being the last words he uttered to his needing brother. Luke only got to the alley next to the tavern before the vampire attacked him, he struggled to no avail, being pinned against the wall, bitten and turned. The vampire left Luke in the alley to complete his transformation. Sam, never able to stay away from his protector for long, stumbled out of the tavern to look for him, seeing his crumpled body in the snow and rushing to his side. "Lucas! Gott, LUCAS!" he screamed, Luke could hear his brother sobbing over him but could do nothing but lay there, unable to do anything but let the slow, painful change happen. Luke had a funeral right away. His father barely sober from his binge, Sam still crying as the simple pine coffin was lowered into the frozen ground at dawn, these two were the only ones attending. Luke awoke at sundown, clawing his way out of the grave to be met with his creator. Thoroughly pissed and beyond enraged, Luke attacked him, but was still clumsy from the change. In the long run he won with his manipulative skill, forcing his creator to turn his brother a week later. They spent the next two centuries together, nearly inseparable, even if he was intolerable at times. Picture: 
Name: Sam Dillinger Age: 274 Species: Bitten Personality: More sensitive than his brother Luke, Sam was a bit of a whore. Abstained from the love of their abusive father, Sam sought love in the bed of just about any attractive person, only ending up using them and being used by them in nothing more than lust. Still to this day he's the more sensitive of the two, though his whoreish ways have dwindled to flamboyant flirtation. He's kind and caring, compassionate and just as protective as Luke. Sam does what he can to avoid confrontations, as he's learned from his unlife with his previously viciously manipulative brother, but given the right trigger, he won't hesitate to unleash the bottled furry within his deceptively innocent frame. Background: Sam was always protected by his fraternal twin brother, Luke, always depended on him to keep him safe and that built a love between them that was unbreakable, even in death. It was his fifteenth winter when his brother had taken him out of the house, their father had started a drinking binge and that was when their injuries were always worse from the beatings. He was frightened that their father would come after them, after all he always needed a living, moving target to kick around; perhaps it was their screams of pain that made them so desirable to beat, Sam in particular, who was even given to his fathers friends to abuse when Luke was nursing his own injuries... Unconsciously. Sam knew he was being a nuisance to his brother, clinging to him as he was, but it still hurt him when Luke stuck him in the tavern to be alone for a while. "Sorry Lucas." he muttered, looking down as his brother disappeared out the door. He huddled himself in a corner of the tavern, even more scared without Luke next to him. It didn't take long for him to scramble out the door, having a pain in his chest that told him his brother was in trouble -this had developed after Luke had taken the responsibility of taking the first beating when their father went after them, the first was always the worst-. His heart stopped for what seemed to be years, seeing the crumpled body of his brother in the alley. "LUCAS! NEIN!" he screamed, already shattered -knowing him to be dead before nearing him- dashing to his side. Lucas' funeral was rushed, the ground would be frozen in a few weeks, there was no time for a head stone or any of the proper arrangements. At dawn Sam watched the simple pine coffin lower into the ground, he hadn't stopped crying since the discovery of his brother's body, the pain multiplied by a black eye he'd gotten from his still drunk father when he'd told him the news of Luke's death; of course, just as with his mother's death, his father blamed him. "Should have been you, Samuel. You are worthless yet somehow you live. Get in the house and stay there until I get back." his father managed to slur through his drunken rage as the gravediggers started to shovel dirt atop the box. Sam bolted home at his father's command, barricading himself in his room, but that only made his beating worse when his father pushed passed the door. Seven days without his brother's protection was an eternity in Hell, beaten until he couldn't move, starved, the moment Sam was able to move his father descended to incapacitate him once more. Sam was sure he'd died when he opened his eyes to see his brother's pale, perfected face leaning over him. "Gott... I am dead..." he choked out. "Nein Sammy, you still live... But not for much longer. Quickly, you have to leave, we will be together and I can protect you again." "But..." "Samuel. Do not argue with me. I know how to make you like me, we will be immortal and invincible, together. Come on, quickly, we need to do this before sunrise." Sam hurt too much to think, why was sunrise an important deadline? It didn't matter, whether he had gone insane from starvation, had truly been beaten to death, or if Luke's appearance was some miracle was all irrelevant; he was back and he was going to protect him again. Sam managed -though he didn't know how, several of his bones were broken and he had internal bleeding- to escape out the back door, his father passed out on the living room floor. Luke was out there in the field that was their back yard, beckoning him closer. "I cannot reach you Lucas... I cannot go further..." "You do not need to Sammy." a dark voice said from behind him. "You do not call him that!" Luke hissed at the figure. "Sammy, it will be okay. It will only hurt for a little while." he called to Sam, it was the last thing he heard before everything went black, too numbed by the pain of his thrashings to feel the bite. The vampire tossed Sam's body in the alley of a brothel to be discovered by one of the working women, it appeared as if he was simply mugged and beaten to death. His funeral was rushed as well, no one attended, his father celebrating in the tavern instead, he didn't care for his son... The son he deemed a monster since the death of his wife, their mother, unknowing that now Sam truly was a monster. The sun set and Sam awoke, he felt only the pain from the lack of a heartbeat, from not needing to fill his lungs with air. Unlike his fearless brother, Sam panicked in the pine box, pounding on it weakly and screaming for his brother. The first act as a vampire was cowering in this death box, waiting for his brother to save him once more. Sam never met his creator, Luke had made sure of that. For the next two centuries he stayed with his brother, their bond even stronger. His good friend -with benefits- Crimson Nightshade helped him with his issues that had caused him to be such a man-whore, as he had helped Luke with his anger. Even saving his unlife, multiple times. The three Germans now live together in this city, a tighter family than their original ones. Anything else: He has a crippling fear of coffins due to his traumatic experience. He is good friends with the Head of the Blood Dolls, Gwendolynn, as well as Thorne whom he fought with in World War II along side his brother Luke and Crimson. When Sam gets too excited he will speak in German instead of English. He played Piano and guitar, and sings, mostly with Crimson. He also strips, having took it up with Crimson as a way to be more of a whore but actually grew to like it as a serious form of entertainment and now treats it as such, though he will let loose a bit around friends. Picture: 
Name: Alex Ludo Age: 19 Species: Human Personality: Somewhat timid because of his visual impairment, Alex tends to shy away from people. But once he warms up to you, he’s a very happy, easy going guy. He doesn’t take his lack of sight too seriously in that you have to be careful of what you say, in fact, he jokes about it often, he always has. He’s kind and caring, always willing to help in any way he’s capable. He often has a problem with personal boundaries though, in that he will randomly hug or offer a comforting touch when it’s unwanted. Background: Alex was born a normal, healthy, seeing boy. But unbeknownst to the doctors and his parents, his optic nerves were compromised, with the right jolt to his head, he would be blind. And at the age of six, that’s exactly what happened. He had been playing on the large pine tree that grew on the plot line of his and his neighbor’s back yards with his best friend Stewie. “Dare you to climb to the top,” Stewie said as they hung about the third branch from the bottom. “But that’s real high…” Alex started to protest. “I’ll give you my Dare Devil comic collection if you do it,” his friend said in an attempt to egg Alex into climbing higher. “Well…. Okay, no backsies!” Alex agreed, starting to climb up the massive branches. The needled started to stick in his brown hair as he ascended the tree, though the sticky pine got slipperier. His sneaker slipped on the sap which sent him plummeting to the earth, hitting the back of his head on a branch before he hit the ground, unconscious. When Alex awoke, he was still in darkness, only a dim light, like someone shining a flashlight at you when your eyes are closed, was visible to him. The beeps, shuffles, and hushed voices of the hospital rang in his ears. “Mom? Dad?” he groaned from how loud his own voice seemed to be. “Alex, Jim he’s awake! Alex honey, are you okay?” Evette asked as she stood by his bedside and took his hand. Alex looked right at her and started to cry. “Alex what’s wrong?” “Mommy, I can’t see you.” He sobbed. Later, x-rays showed that his optic nerves had disconnected from his occipital lobe. Several surgeries later, doctors were able to reconnect the nerves but Alex’s sight was never fully restored. Needless to say he never got that comic book collection but he wasn’t bitter about it. “It’s like you’re the real Dare Devil now,” Stewie said, almost excitedly. “Nah, I’m blind as a bat…. Batman!” Alex joked with a laugh. Only able to see faint shapes and some differences in brightness, Alex learned to live with a walking cane and is very self-sufficient, though he can’t see anything at night. One night in particular, when he was sixteen and everything was pitch black, Alex could only rely on his hearing; the stealthiest, most dangerous creature attacked him while he was walking home through the park. The icy grip of the vampire chilled him as its fangs sank into his neck. Alex struggled and screamed but it seemed like this was going to be it before the vampire suddenly stopped and seemed to just vanish. “Hey are you alright?” the male voice asked. “Y-yeah… I think… M-my neck…” “Don’t worry, the vamp didn’t get you bad, you won’t turn or die. “ “Vamp? You mean…” “Yeah, vampires exist. Best get your blind ass a cross.” Was all the man said before disappearing as well. “ “The Hell? Yeah…. Nice meeting you too, ass. And thanks for saving me….. Still a jerk though.” He added in a mumble. Now Alex has made his way to the city of vampires, having heard that it was a place where humans and vampires lived in harmony, where he wouldn’t have to hide and would be safer with others that knew of the vampire’s existence. Anything else: He has taught himself to play guitar, can read braille music, and smokes. He also has a younger sister who was born mute, thus he was taught how to sign Helen Keller style. Picture: 
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