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Post by Deleted on Dec 13, 2020 11:26:00 GMT -7
Degare John Bentclyff
pronunciation:
Deg-air Bent-Cliffnickname:
Only Albright is allowed to call him Deg-Deg
age and birthday:
252
Born in 1773. He can't recall the exact day or month anymore.
gender and pronouns:
Male, he/him
basic info
blood status:
Vampire (magical)sexuality:
Pansexual
wand:
N/A
playby:
Matt Bomer
appearance:
5'11" , Blue eyes, Dark brown hair, no notable scars or tattoos
education and jobs
schooling:
Hogwarts: Hufflepuff
schooling status:
Graduate
current occupation:
Painter, Art Forger, Thief
personality
likes:
Albright, Painting, The sound Al makes when he finds a pleasant surprise, Children, Things and people that break from the norm, A rich red wine, Bloody steak, Those moments when the sun has set but the light lingers
dislikes:
Cheap wine, Brats, Bigots, Garlic (for reasons unrelated to vampirism), Cloudless days, When contractors don't do the job right, Bad forgeries that somehow still pass inspection, Good forgeries that don't
erised:
Himself and Albright as they are, with a child or two, an obvious air of comfort about them smiling with fangs and knowing society won't think any different of them for it.
amortentia:
Albright fresh from the shower, That smell his studio gets when he's deep in a project, The metalic tang of blood, New Baby Smell
boggart:
His father's disappointed glare
overall personality:
Degare is a man with a complicated set of morals that most humans find...unnecessarily convoluted. He believes in innocence and guilt, and places himself in the latter and children in the former. Generally, he will do unto others as they do unto their friends, subordinates, and general peers. He sees no issue stealing from a wealthy bigot to line his own pockets and maybe help someone else in need, but he is by no means a Robin Hood of virtue. He gets a sick sort of pleasure from his nature to drink blood, has embraced it centuries ago, and revels in Albright's equal enthusiasm.
personal history
origins:
London, originally, just...a long time ago.
relations:
John and Merida Bentclyff - Parents, Deceased
Albright Desmond-Bentclyff - Second (and last) Husband, Vampire
Naomi Hubbard - Wife The First - Deceased,
Holly Greenwich - Second Wife - Deceased,
Bently Filips - Boyfriend/Partner/Muse - Deceased,
Jaqueline Miller - Third Wife - Deceased,
Manny Riviera - First “Husband” - Deceased
pets:
None as yet
history:
Born in the summer of 1773 to two commoners, Degare was nothing special at the time of his birth. They gave him the best they could, and he helped around the house until he was old enough to go with his father to work. One could say his father defined the term “starving artist”, as he barely made enough money to put food on their table while he painted the portraits of the wealthy for barely more than pennies apiece. Deg thought it was a crying shame, since his father was a good artist, one who painted things as he saw them and why couldn’t anyone see that?
At eleven, he started school where he flourished as an artist. He drew often; landscapes, people, anything he could think of, he drew. Every holiday, when he would return home, his father would be so proud of Degare’s work and often showed it off to his friends and family. “You’ll be a master, one day,” he’d say with a grin. “You’ll make more on one painting than I ever will in my life.” And oh, didn’t that just break Deg’s heart to hear that. To hear his father think so little of his own talent.
Degare did just what his father predicted he’d do: he became a masterful painter. He made a name for himself almost as soon as he graduated Hogwarts, demanding the highest payment for his work. It was on one fateful night out that Degare stumbled down the wrong alley on his way home from the pub. He was 37. Two weeks later, he attended his own funeral. He wanted to go and comfort his parents, but he knew he would only make things worse in the future when he didn’t age. Fate was a cruel bitch.
The first decade was the worst, without another vampire to help him through the transition, Deg often woke up covered in blood with no knowledge of how it got there. It took the majority of that decade to gain control over his impulses, to tame the monsters fighting to get out. Every few years, he would move to a new town and begin again. He continued to paint portraits and landscapes and anything he had the inspiration for, and though he didn’t make enough to be as wealthy as he might have been, he made enough to get by. As human technology progressed and word spread farther faster, he had to travel farther when he moved. Soon, he was leaving France for Russia where he managed to keep for three decades before he moved on to America.
Degare married several times, and even had a few male partners over the years, but they all eventually left. They each had their reasons, but Degare had been the one to purposely drive the wedge between them each time, for fear of the inevitable when they figured out why he never aged. He didn’t contact them after they left, and he made sure they never found him again, but they each held a place in his heart. He had loved them, after all.
It was a rude wake up for him one day when he had an elderly client for whom he was painting pass away unexpectedly. The reminder that humanity was mortal, that they all eventually died while he lived on unchanged did not sit well with him. It was unfair, he thought. He finished the painting for that client and left it for the family before fleeing to Spain. Through all his travels, he learned the language of the region, established himself as a member of the community but never made any real friends. He couldn’t bear to put himself through the pain of their death, and didn’t want to make connections only to uproot himself as if he’d never been in a few years.
In his boredom, he decided to obtain several degrees in various fields, Art History being one of them. He obtained three doctorates: Art History, Computer Sciences, and Chemistry; all at different universities under different names. His name began to travel within the criminal network. To them he was a title, a ghost that passed on his knowledge every generation, talked about in whispers filled with awe and disbelief. Many claimed to be an incarnation of him, and most of those posers were laughably mediocre in their skills compared to him.
When he was 150, he met Albright. A fellow vampire, Albright was bright and smiling where Degare was dark and cynical. But oh the pictures he inspired in Degare’s mind. Albright was a young thing by Deg’s standards, only just over 75 years old and he barely looked 20. Still, he managed to make Deg smile like he hadn’t in centuries, and it was decades down the line that Degare would realize exactly what had happened. They were married in a courthouse with two strangers off the street as witnesses and two hastily purchased boutonnieres pinned to their lapels, but they couldn’t have been happier. Thievery became much easier with the two of them working at it.
He was 200 years old when he came to London, and he’d learned a good many things in the five centuries he’s been alive. He no longer painted for clients; not original work, at any rate. Instead he became an expert art forger, a con man from any country he wished. A thief. There was one memorable job where he actually had to forge one of his own paintings, and in the end he’d kept the original while simply giving a second forgery to his ‘client’.
site events reaction:
Degare tries to keep out of human politics unless the new policies actually make a difference in his life, so the recent breakout at Azkaban is worrisome, to be sure, but Degare isn't very concerned for himself. Albright was more interested in it from a technological standpoint, to be honest. The new plague sweeping the masses is concerning, mostly for the difficulties it poses to his business. Fencing a painting when borders are under higher scrutiny is...difficult, to say the least.
alias
name:
Bobbi
pronouns:
They/Them
age:
26
time zone:
Central (USA)
reference:
Top Rp
other characters:
Nobody yet!
You'll get the title once I see those done!