Markus Mordekaiser - Tragedy with a Smile

Character Information

Character Name: Markus "Mister Markie" Mordekaiser
Clan: Nosferatu
Generation: 10th (9th if I'm allowed a second but I doubt?)
Age: 50
Sect: Nosferatu Autarkis/Camarilla
Sire: "Comedy"
Disciplines: Animalism, Obfuscate, Potence
Backgrounds: Domain 4 - (Blueberry Sewer Subsections).
Resources 2 - (Decent car, moderate financial savings, Broadway entertainment funds)
Generation 3 - (10th Gen Kindred)
Fame - 3 (Broadway Entertainer, Magician, Playwriter)
Mentor - 1 (Sire: Comedy)
Merits: Lucky 3PT
Open Road 2PT
Iron Will 3PT (He's had to work some tough crowds)
Coldly Logical 1PT
Common Sense 1PT
Concentration 1PT (A Showman needs to be focused!)
Computer Aptitude 2PT
Ambidextrous 1PT
Eat Food 1PT
Flaws: Tic/Twitch 1PT - (Wrings his hands in times of stress or excitement)
Flesh of the Corpse 5PT
Infertile Vitae 5PT
Short Fuse 2PT
New Arrival 1PT
Infamous Sire 1PT - (Comedy's permission for embracing Markus is hotly disputed amongst small circles of New York Nosferatu, which may as well reach any and all other Nosferatu.)
Rival Sires 2PT - (His Sire, Comedy, has a lengthy rivalry with another Ancilla Kindred, a Toreador calling herself "Persephone". The rivalry is vaguely known to Markus, as it consists of his sire and this other Kindred consistently battling behind the scenes to both Boon or Curse Markus on his journey through Unlife.)
Cursed 4PT - (Mister Markie will spontaneously develop conditions that relate to other physical or supernatural flaws. One night he may find himself with frost-touched fingers, and others he may find that he emanates a choking miasma of burning and charring. The cause of this are his Rival Sires casting opposing Rituals on Markus and the end result are these Curses. These effects always de-manifest at the end of the night or by using a Willpower Point.)
Additional Features: He is constantly surrounded by bandages from head to toe. His eyes barely flit out between the wrappings, and he can easily be mistaken for a mummy. He also speaks with a low and sinister smokers drawl.
Background Story:

Swanky Birthright

Markus Mordekaiser was born in Little Italy, New York at the end of World War 2. A son of a musician father and a nurse mother, he grew up with all the privilege's of an upper-middle class family of the time. For the most part of his childhood he was taught artistic expression - But he never could get a hold of things like painting or coloring. When it came to expressing himself however? He was all too happy. The boy bounded and traipsed across the floorboards at a young age, and he took up the beautiful art of singing - By which to a baby is probably screaming.

Coming off of the second World War, Broadway had entered a golden age. His father, Marcello Mordekaiser, found himself immigrating to America from Verona, Italy and immediately integrating himself among the bump-and-jive culture present in New York. There he met a woman - Fiona "Fifi" Polvinsk - Herself an immigrant from Post-War Poland. Mordekaiser and Polvinsk inevitably entered duo-showman(and showwoman)ship.

In the following years they engaged, and the story of Markus Mordekaiser began. When the boy became an adolescent, he finally fit into those suspenders his momma bought for him some years before.. And he was beginning to form into a boy wonder.

Doted upon by mistresses of 38th street, the blushy and pale-eyed Italiano-Pol searched for his niche in the entertainment world. He could work a microphone fine, but there was something that interested him a lot more - Magic. Broadway was magical, and who could me more magical than a magician? Little did he know however, that 'entertainment magician' and 'quick fingers' tend to go hand in hand.

The More Things Change...

The year was 1960 and the boy was sixteen. Being a magician wasn't going so well - He had resorted to running with the local street gangs - Little punks that did small time work for La Costa Nostra. It wouldn't have gone over well with Ma and Pa - If they ever found out that was.

Markus found himself growing detached from his parents - The various trusts and perks that were given to him were perfect material gifts, but his mother had long left the entertainment industry to pursue a career in nursing, and his father still had yet to recover from the Broadway decline of the fifties that was getting worse and worse. Savings were great, but it was like floating on a raft with a hole. He'd never give up his love for the magic - That spark of the lights that completely overwhelmed the senses. He tried combining it with music, with comedy shows, Hell he even tried to write a few screenplays featuring the classic Rabbit in a Hat routine.

The seventies came, and the well had run dry. His mother had turned into the breadwinner as daddy-o's musical career took a sharp turn down nowheresville. Markus found himself further entrenched in the world of organized crime, graduating from petty theft and destruction of property to larceny and acting as a few shady men's Bruiser. The shine of the old swank was fading away, but the young man always held a deck of cards to practice with. "Behind the ea', unda my sleeve, folded up or down." He practiced.. And sooner or later he was gaining some traction.

Come 1978, Markus Mordekaiser had begun to make a name for himself as the "Crafty Magician" of 38'th street. He'd show in venues with increasingly elaborate swanky uniforms, grew out his facial hair into tasteful variations of handlebar mustaches, and even risked the daring 'cut-in-half' trick. The drop-floors helped immensely. His success began to grow and swell - With his good old dad in the care of his mother, the Mordekaiser family enjoyed a resurgence of wealth and recognition. The newfound entertainment showman dropped his old life of skullduggery at the flip of a switch, and slinked right back into the life he felt he always deserved.

Up in Smoke

1985, January 27th - Markus "Mister Markie" Mordekaiser was performing a showing at the "Finnegan Swing" theater, his usual assortment of mystical tricks. By this time he was performing masterful arts of subterfuge - Manipulating the very stage itself via coordination from back-stage aids and his own movements to allow for the illusion of disappearing, reappearing, and even switching volunteers out for other members of the audience!

The joy of the act was short lived however, as a billowing smoke began to sneak it's way through the venue - Fire roaring passed wooden beams and licking alight the drapes of the top-stands. "It all happened so fast" - Was a phrase uttered by more than one survivor. As the various showgoers piled towards the doors, Markus found himself despairing at the sight of his entire act literally going up in flames.

He panicked, glancing desperately for a way out. Moving off the stage was swiftly becoming an invalid options as the inferno cascaded across the flammable surfaces of the seats and upholstery. Sprinting backstage, the magician found his tricks woefully lacking to push through the dizzying crowd of screaming aides and actors scurrying for their life, nor were any of his fanciful card maneuvers going to save him from the rising temperature causing beads of sweat to dribble precariously down his forehead.

He pushed forward, and his shoulder collided with somebody - Who? He does not know, because as the man swung around in response to the push - He was crushed overhead by a beam of scorching wood.

Tragedy with a Smile

Self-preservation is a Hell of a thing. The first thing to go were the palms of his hands as he pushed and heaved the immolating timber from his charred chest, and the man crawled desperately in.. Any direction that would take him. Between the blinding lights of the inferno and his own dimming consciousness, the last thing his nerves felt before they were burnt off was pressure - And then, nothing.

He awoke amidst the stench of sewage - A smell that instantly brought him back to his days as a roughhouser. The man blinked awake, but saw nothing - And as he clawed away at his face, the pulling of bandages and the squishing of flesh gave way to the running aqueducts of Broadways shitflow. A letter emblazoned with the face of Tragedy sat at his wrapped feet - And he retrieved it to reveal a small mirror within.. And an array of new instructions.

The visage that peered back at him was not the Markus Mordekaiser of old.. But a mummy, wrapped tightly as if prepared by an Egyptian themselves - Nary an inch of his skin showing, yet through movement revealed contrasts of pustulating meat that shifted between semisolid forms one moment, and sizzled into a hard, crusty plateau the next. His screams filled the sewers for hours, and he moved to figure out.. Just what has transpired.

Markus Mordekaiser the Broadway entertainer was no more - At least to Kine.. The Kindred of New York took great pleasure in the mans shows, and it would later begin to manifest their boons.. But for now? He was at the whims to the individual that signed off on his notice of objectives - "Comedy".

He spilled through sewer pipes, and before long became indoctrinated in the underworld of Kindred society.. The way Nosferatu knew it. Below the streets, there were several like him - Bitter, angry monsters that skulked in the shadows, and looked after their own. The rats replaced his delectable courses of stake and potatoes, and the Beast that had taken residence upon the animate corpse of Mordekaiser junior replaced his love of magic, theater and entertainment, with honing the act of Disappearing.. Smashing through valves, and swaying the rodents that supped upon detritus with his newfound power of the Blood.

Hollywood Promotion

The foul burned man sucked the putrid draughts of rats and vagrants for nearly a decade - Running operations for various Nosferatu of ascending social status. He was a rat amongst rats - With only the fortunate case of his previous fame preventing him from drowning and ashing in the aqueducts. His correspondence with Comedy grew - Letters became Emails, and then Emails became cryptic calls from retainers - Though the Kindred never once met the man, the influence of his Blood pulled on his icy heart from every waking moment.

In his adventures he came to know several of the different clans - One which became of great interest to him; The Ravnos. Tales of muttering Kindred told of Illusions conjured out of thin air, and made manifest to horrify their enemies or tear them asunder. This lit something familiar in his chest - The spark that he once felt so long ago. If he could find a way to get his hands on this Discipline.. Then perhaps the suffering would be worth it?

Regardless, it was a side-concern among a myriad of others that haunted his mind.. But this was something to look forward to - Something he could call an objective of his own making - Regardless of the wants, desires or ulterior machinations of some sadistic Vampire with a bad nickname. He could barely stand it - The filth and constant unknown correspondence. He was like a marionette being puppeteered - The sickening laughter of crooked Vampires thrumming in his eardrums. One night - Not unlike any other night - He found a rock thrown at his head from his blanket of newspapers - And attached was.. A note.

"Avoid Persephone." - With a one-way plane ticket, and directions of a newly arranged Domain in Los Angeles. The Kindred fumed - Spending the rest of his fleeting moments away from daysleep punching a hole into a steel pipe. He did not know who Persephone was, he did not know where this was going to lead him and he certainly could not use a plane ticket.

Comedy had made a habit this point of putting obstacles in Mordekaiser's way that were completely unnecessary. The way to an item needed to be swiped was easily accessed through another entrance, yet notes threw him in every direction. A person needing to be silenced would be said to be in one part of town - However would actually be in the opposite. No matter how many times Markus attempted to gain an advantage, he was always blindsided by a new trouble.. And this was no exception.

The Nosferatu used the ticket to wipe a stain from his charred dress pants, and the following night he was snuggling up to a rapidly spoiling bunch of seafood en-route to LA Pier.

Questions

Note: If this is not your first Vampire character, you may skip all of the questions other than the ones colored blue.

10. Explain the way your character view the Traditions and each of the Sects.

First Tradition: The Masquerade - "Hhrhrheh.. Dese days boss? I ain't exactly showin' my face places.." Markus as a Nosferatu knows and understands this tradition, he willingly follows it as per his way of new Unlife.

Second Tradition: The Domain - "'Ay.. I ain't never intrude upon another Fangers Domain.. Willingly." Markus is a sneaky bastard. Officially his record is clean, but there may be a few fleeced bills from a bedside drawer some days.. As for his own pad? Ain't nobody findin' it.. If they did? He'd already be ashed.

Third Tradition: The Progeny - "Ain't got nuthin' to worry about there boss.." Markus - As a Kindred with Infertile Vitae - Cannot sire any childer.

Fourth Tradition: The Accounting - "'Round n' round like clockwork, ya remind me." See above.

Fifth Tradition: The Hospitality - "Whatever I gotta do to keep the Blues outta my bandages, boss." Markus is more than willing to do the dance and meet the Prince, the big issue is.. How is he going to exactly do that? Getting an appointment is probably going to cause more public harm than good.. So this provides an opportunity for his type of.. Creative flair.

Sixth Tradition: The Destruction - "Ashes to ashes.. Dust to dust, Fanger. Blood ain't spilt if nobody sees it.." Probably the one Tradition that Mister Markie would come into an issue with - Kindred that are too nosey and enter his Domain seldom find themselves leaving, but his Domain is ever changing. Like a true Sewer Rat, he flows through the pipes like a deluge of peering eyes and sinister scowls. Unless you're a Nossie, you better not be climbing around in his plumbing!

11. Explain in your own words about your character's Clan, in your answer include its curse and some history.

Nosferatu are so aptly named because their Clan Weakness is extremely prevalent - The Beast inside is drawn outward to disfigure the once-Human into a terrifying visual monstrosity. Many of these mutations come in several forms - From claws and teeth pushing through skin, torn and matted hair, wide smirking grins arrayed with razor-like teeth, or bumpy, grotesque tumors filling every square inch of skin and leaking a virulent effluvium.

In the case of Markus Mordekaiser - Fire already did half the damage. In the ensuing arson of the venue he was performing at one fateful night he was badly injured and disfigured - Only to wrench himself free from the embers a sobbing and screaming mass of liquifying flesh that extinguished itself on the nearby upholstery. The Embrace simply added it's own special touches.

The Nosferatu clan progenitor was once a Hunter named Absimiliard that was extremely powerful, extremely beautiful.. And extremely vain. He was very skilled as well, but one of the Second Generation Kindred embraced the man in a counter-hunt and left him with a facial scarred that drove him mad with anger at the sullying of his visage.

Still a Hunter at heart, Absimiliard went on to precipitate the Antediluvian Revolt by murdering his Sire - Only to be cursed with hideousness by Caine himself. A woman of his troupe fled and lead on to sire the Bloodline of Nosferatu we all know today - The woman only being known as the Matriarch, or Gorgon.

Hello!

I apologize for the great delay in addressing this application.

This is accepted as 10th generation with maximum bonus experience for the story. (21/21)

Don't hesitate to ping any of the available staff to set the character up, myself included.

Have fun!

Mephisto wrote:Hello!

I apologize for the great delay in addressing this application.

This is accepted as 10th generation with maximum bonus experience for the story. (21/21)

Don't hesitate to ping any of the available staff to set the character up, myself included.

Have fun!

Don't even worry about it man, appreciate you as always!