|Name: Ayden Ezekiel Devereaux|
|Race: Belle Morte Vampire|
|Shortdesc: 4'9", blond haired, blue eyed beauty|
|Position: At your Neck|
|None as Ayden Ezekiel Devereaux
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Hair of spun gold frames the face of this man like a halo, metallic and gleaming from years out of the sun. Cut in a decidedly modern style, it’s perpetually mused, feathery as it falls upon his brow. Intense grass green eyes stare from a pale face, huge and beguiling should anyone have the guts to stare directly into them. If it wasn’t for the frightening stillness that clings to this young looking man, he’d appear nothing short of angelic, sweet of face, gentle eyes and easy smile. However, that stillness gives a decidedly morbid cast to his appearance, despite his unearthly beauty
Of humble beginnings, Ayden was born to a modest farming family, in a small community in France, almost five centuries ago. One of five children, Ayden was the youngest and most shy of the lot of them. His chores generally consisted of caring for the animals. Dogs, chickens, cows, he spent more hours milking then he did about anything else. A modest life, to be sure, but hardly a simple life.
At that time, it wasn't uncommon for many of the youngsters to die from sickness or injury, and by the time Ayden reached the age of fifteen, he was one of only three children left to the family. He had great dreams, plans for himself, but he was ever to busy to follow through on them.
A Sensitive boy, Ayden had an ear for music and the voice of an angel, and though he was generally in a rather grimy state due to the type of work that he had to do on the farm, it scarce hid the beauty beneath the dirt. He'd travel into his small town, carrying cream and butter to trade with the other farmers for things his family needed, and upon one such outing he caught sight of a band of traveling musicians. It'd entranced him, but he'd had to much to do, so he wasn't able to stay and watch.
It'd been evening, just dark, and as he scuffed his feet in the dirt on his way home, he was silently stalked, unbeknown to him. The next five years of his life were charmed, as the town called it. The boy rarely, if ever, got into any trouble. He almost never became hurt, and at times it seemed as though he had a guardian angel watching after him. Even when a neighboring village had had a dispute with his own, he'd been lead astray the violence, though even he knew not why or how, he simply couldn't remember.
Later, Ayden would find out that it was that night when he'd first seen the fiddle and harp playing in his small town, after trading his hard won goods for things he'd needed, that a beautiful vampire had seen him and immediately coveted him. She saw the insane beauty beneath the outward appearance, and she'd wanted him. However, she'd wanted him to grow, mature a little further, so she'd made it her job to make certain he did exactly that for the next few years.
He was beautiful, intelligent, but ignorant. A perfect specimen to mold into hers, her companion, her creature. And on the eve of his twentieth birthday, he felt a pull to head into the night, gazing up at the stars. It was there that he died, and was reborn, to the beautiful woman of Belle Morte's line. An old master vampire who'd been around for many years. He'd been spirited away from his family, his home, having no choice. Everything changed for him in one night, one blinding moment as death crept in on him.
The next months are a blur, he doesn't much remember them. It was hunger, constant burning aching hunger, and then lessons. Endless lessons. How to speak, how to please, how to follow orders, how to serve and service. How to be the perfect little pet, and no mistake, he was just a pet for a very long time. The only thing truly enjoyable about his early years was the fact he was not only allowed to learn to play instruments, he was expected to. It was what got Ayden through those years, the sweet sounds of tone reverberating off of wood and strings.
He was a toy, a pawn, given to others for a night of fun, a year, ten years. It didn't matter how long all that mattered is that he nearly always ended up back in the grips of his deceitful and beautiful Mistress, his teacher and his personal harbinger of unhappiness. It wasn't all bad, but being forced to perform, whether it be for man or woman, musically, theatrically, or sexually - it all ended up amounting to the same thing. He was a toy. And as a toy he spent most of his existence.
Eventually, however, that changed. His mistress was no more, he doesn't know what happened, but one night he realized it wasn't her that made him breathe each night, it was another, Another who didn't see him as the pawn or slave, at least not in the same way.. Ayden was given more freedom, a little more power, and soon began to come into his own. Oh, he missed his Mistress, he loved her with more then he could put into words, because she'd been his entire existence, he'd lived to please her. She'd taught him to belong to her, and belong to her he most certainly did. But when she was gone, he could not look back, he had to take what he could from life and do his best to become happy and create an existence that was as pleasant as possible. His New Mistress, while not really kind, gave him responsibility. He was more then a toy, yet, still he acted in that capacity as well. He taught younger vampires, he realized he had more power over himself then he'd realized, and found that his Mistress had dampened his abilities.
Now, its present day. Ayden is no longer the simpering submissive toy he'd been for so many years. He has come into a lot more power, he is most definitely a creature of Belle's line, he virtually bleeds sexuality, but his personality has matured into something less then cynical, but just barely. And finally, he got the nerve to go to His master, and request the right to move to the United States, and away from France. It was granted, though not without regret, a payment of some sort.
Ayden traveled to New Orleans, where he came into his own, not quite a Master Vampire, but definitely more than he had ever been.. He met many friends, and a few enemies, but all in all it was good. He was also trained in the dark arts of espionage and assassinations. He became the secret weapon of the Master of the City. When his lover left, he fell into depression and searched frantically for the boy.
His search has lead him from the deep south to the Middle West, to the city of Wind, Chicago, Ill
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