Marius

First Name- Marius

Middle Name(if they have one)- Edric

Last Name- Noire

Race- An Ancient Vampire

Age- As he was born in, 30 BC in Rome, he's rather old, though his appearance says otherwise.

Gender- Male

Height- 6'4"

Weight- Due to a lighter bone structure, bird-like in composition, he's deceptively light in weight. Coming in at 166 lbs, he's thin to the eye, but simply due to his molecular structure. Muscle adorns his frame, along with a strength that most would be surprised to realize he had.

Job(put none if you don't want one or *for hire* if you want one)- Jobs are far too menial for him. He's more of a traveler with a pension for sadomasochistic obsessive compulsive tendencies, who revels in stirring up chaos and discord.

Appearance-

Piercing, hazel eyes exude an air of danger, of threat, a gaze that doesn't fall on people lightly and more often than not is looking elsewhere as nothing catches his attention unless provoked. Chiseled jawline, and a tanner demeanor round out his face, framed with wind-tussled hair that he's no intention of ever truly fixing. Generally adorned with scruff, his look is decidedly devil-may-care, and that's just how he likes it.

Personality- As previously stated, he's sadomasochistic, something that causes most discomfort upon discovery. Prompting a fight with him doesn't result to much but a bit of a cavalier smile and the askance of another blow, before he strikes back, of course. He's not one to take something lying down. On the other side of such a dangerous coin, he's obsessive compulsive. Despite his want for chaos, it has to be in such a way that fits his needs. Chaos for the sake of chaos means little to him, and if something doesn't happen the right way, it drives him insane, an Achilles' Heel, so to speak.

Special Skills- "Skills are a matter of opinion. Personally, everything I do I find an essential skill to produce results that benefit me and me alone. Take that as you wish."

History- Whilst traveling the world alone for such a long time, it could be said he'd gone mad, mad from the loneliness and constant change that he was hopeless to adapt to. Not that he saw it that way, mind you. Everything he did seemed perfectly normal to him, and he likes himself just the way he is.

Painting used to be a pastime of his, bringing his art to life through the stroke of his brush. Each art fad that he passed through, he'd honed, nurtured, and created a masterpiece...But it wasn't enough. He turned to living art...to get what he needed out of life. Taking victims away from all that they knew, keeping them paralyzed, he nurtured them, took them above what they were, integrating them into exhibits until they outlived their usefulness and died. "Always forget to feed them..." was the general excuse for his negligence, but it was more that he'd grown bored, bored with their antics and escape attempts.

The winds of change seemed to bring him to this sleepy town of Storybrooke, the sent of innocence and false senses of security luring him in. It was only a matter of time before he found them.

"Come out...come out...wherever you are..."

Accepted!