Mr. Nothing

[The Saint]

Name: Charles Gregory Watson
Nick Names or Alias: Mr. Nothing, Sir Nothing, He Whom is not Here, The man with no face
Age: 235
Aesthetic Age: None, but was sired at 28
Gender: Male
Sexual Preferances: Straight
LClan: Nosferatu
If Other..:

n/a

Sect: Independent
If Independant Faction..:

Himself. He'll sell out his services as an information broker, spy, thief, and assassin to the highest bidder, however.

Rank: Ancillea
Generation: 10th
Powers (Disciplines):

Obfuscate *****
Auspex ***
Celerity ***

Deformities:

Eyes: His eyes are sunk in and appear to be black holes in his head.

Mouth: His jaw opens slightly wider than usual, and the opening of his mouth falls slightly more into his cheeks than usual.

Skin: His skin is dried up and yellowish almost like a piece of old parchment.

Fingernails: His fingernails are blackened like a dead fingernail does right before it falls off. The blackness is only where the nail meets the skin and the talons that extend off of them are a yellowish color.

Derangement(s):

None

Misc.:

n/a

Appearance:

Charles is thin, almost skeletal thin with very little meat on his bones. His skin is dried and cracked and looks like dried parchment draped over slightly meaty bones. His eyes are sunk in and his mouth has several sharp fangs. It almost looks like all of his facial features except his nose collapse into a black hole whenever his face is in view. He has a thin patch of black hair that is long and straight that falls down onto his shoulders with a slight bald patch at the very top of his head.

Fashion Sense/Style:

Mr. Nothing prefers to dress in outfits from around his era of time, especially when meeting clients. He keeps his entire body concealed and wears a mask to hide his face. Most of his outfits are similar to the picture below.



However, when not acting as Mr. Nothing and therefore trying to blend in with Nosferatu society and Kindred society he wears any clothes that he can find thrown away in dumpsters. Blue Jeans, band t-shirts, tattered dress clothes. Anything he can find.

Personality:

Mr. Nothing is like most Nosferatu. He prefers to make a profit with his skills and hide in the shadows when he is not needed. Mr. Nothing prefers to keep to himself. He does have a kind heart and a watchful eye though, and tends to keep an eye on his mortal family, as spread out as they these days. He also will sometimes help out Orphans and children on the streets as he sees them as lost souls like himself, sometimes simply just leaving food or blankets for them.

Mr. Nothing would seem greedy, but he is not. He does hoard money, items, and favors, but he does so only in case of emergencies. Really he is just trying to live his unlife and keep himself useful to Kindred society as a whole so they would not see fit to forget or destroy him.

Physical-Strength: 7
Intelligence: 10
Speed: 12
Leadership: 1
Melee: 12
Unarmed: 5
Ranged: 5
History:

Born in 1775 at the start of the War of Independence in a small town on the coast of Maine. His father was a spy who worked directly for George Washington. Growing up Charles was taught to be a Patriot. To respect and to honor George washing and taught that one must serve their country in the best way they know how. His father as a child lived on the streets of London and had to learn to steal to get by. He was eventually shipped off to the Americas for a reason he never told Charles.

Growing up in that small town his father taught him how to be silent, how to be quiet. He taught him how to be fast and how to remain unseen. He taught Charles all this because he feared that another war was coming and Charles would have to do his part in the effort against the British. Charles instead used what his father taught him to become a first class smuggler and thief.

It was the early days of the American black market and Charles, ever the patriot, was stealing from the Government. Ships that would arrive he would pilfer bits and pieces of the shipment, then pawn it off at lower prices to the poor. Some thought him a saint, a Robin Hood to the poor. Charles only had selfish reasons for his actions. The rich would buy what he stole in large amounts and would provide him with even more money than most merchants could ever make.

His father was proud of him. He thought Charles an honest merchant, something that Charles deep down felt terribly guilty about. Charles eventually met a young woman by the name of Michelle Beckley and fell in love. He didn't quit his pilfering ways, but he did try harder to hide his business from his newfound love. After a short courtship the two were wed.

Due to his lifestyle and proficiency at not getting caught, the couple lived like Nobles. They had a large mansion, on several acres of land. The only thing that could've made Charles happier was if he'd actually earned this life honestly. The guilt kept him up at night, but he tried to keep it secret and hidden away from his beautiful bride. His guilt was worse that he had to hide something from the woman he loved more than anything in the world.

They lived together happily for three years before Michelle finally bore Charles a daughter. However, Michelle did not survive the birthing and left a grief stricken Charles to deal with the girl. Charles raised the girl the best he could, and on her fifth birthday he had his first close call in over 14 years of stealing. A guard who caught him put a musket ball through his shoulder. The doctor was able to patch it up, he though, rather decently. It was at this time that Charles decided he would work honestly for the sake of his daughter. He used what wealth he had to open up his own General Store.

The thing about medicine back then was that it was pretty poor. Nearly five months after the injury, the wound he thought had healed was beginning to ache and the skin around it began turning black. Charles began getting sick and would wake up in the night drenched in sweat. It was then that a thing came to him in the night. A ghastly beast that told him he could offer him the chance to live forever and forever watchover his daughter and his family to come, if only he would spend a hundred years as the beasts apprentice. Charles quickly agreed without hesitation thinking he would still be able to take care of his daughter.

After being embraced he was informed of the costs. He could no longer see the sun, he was now hideous to behold, and he would now thirst for human blood. In his eyes, he was not fit to be a father to the girl, but he couldn't just abandon her. So, hidden under his bedsheets, he told a servant to take the girl to see her grandparents for the day. He moved himself to one of his warehouses and built a small haven there. He then had one of his servants, whom he had ghouled, burn down his mansion. His daughter's fate would be left up to his own father.

The beast that had sired him had been a former British Gentlemen named Sir Wallace Carmicheal, but now preferred to call himself Sir Rat out of self hatred and pity. The two had gathered a small portion of his material wealth, the rest was to be left for his daughter and parents, and they set out to New York. The underground of that city was limited, but at the 1803 the next hundred years was still a vast discovery for Charles. Sir Rat taught Charles everything there was to know about being Nosferatu, about being Kindred, and about the society he was expected to be a part of. Sir Rat had been watching Charles for most of his life, and was impressed with his gift for stealth, infiltration, and smuggling. Sir Rat spent years teaching him the arts of hiding, killing, subtlety, and the alien grace of the undead. After his apprenticeship was over, Sir Rat let his apprentice go.


A hundred years had passed and Charles hadn't even realized it. It was 1903 and now British descendants weren't the only ones inhabiting the Americas and the continent was nearly fully explored and discovered. He had spent most of his time underground that he hadn't realized what was going on just above his head. With that Charles made his way back to Maine to try and see what became of his family. Information gathering had become second nature to him over the last one hundred years and he easily found what had become of his daughter. She grew up in the care of her Grandparents till the age of 14 in which they died. A friend of the family took care of her and her massive wealth until she was married at the age of sixteen to a man named Ray Foster. She bore him three children; Ray Foster Jr., Charlie Foster, and Mary Ann Foster. Charlie Foster had moved to New York where he had started a small newspaper and the rest lived in Maine.

Ray had gotten a mysterious illness and died before he could be married, but Charlie and Mary Ann each had one child. Charles Foster Jr. from Charlie, and Steven Webner from Mary Ann. Both of those young men too had several children a piece. Charles Foster Jr. owned a large newspaper empire in New York inherited from his father, while Steven Webner had inherited the family chain of Grocery stores; Watson Grocers. Both of them had adult children who helped them run those establishments.

Satisfied that his daughter had lived a filled life, and that his descendants were well off, he continued to stalk back under the streets of Maine. He took back up an old abandoned Warehouse that belonged to him years before as a Haven and lived there for years.

In the 1970s after years of watching his family he moved to New York City. During his activity since leaving his sire's apprenticeship he had kept away from all Kindred Society. He only dealt with those who would make him money and he soon learned that plenty of money was to be made in New York. He had a use and so he decided that it was time to watch his family in New York. He returned and moved into an old abandoned subway station that the Nosferatu had even abandoned themselves. He lurked in the shadows and gathered what he needed to survive. He became a legend in the darkest parts of New York. A man who did not exist, save to those who would pay top dollar for his services. A Haunt who was only seen when it was in his best interest. He became a nobody, Mr. Nobody to be exact and to this day Mr. Nobody exists only to the highest bidder.

[Iota]