Post by Matthew J. Ashford on Jun 16, 2010 10:32:26 GMT -5
Name: Matthew J. Ashford
Nick Names or Alias: The Seraphim, Matt, Mr. Ashford,
Age: Two-hundred and eighty-nine
Aesthetic Age: Mid-thirties
Gender: Male
Sexual Preferances: Straight
LClan: Ventrue
If Other..:
If Independant Faction..:
Generation: 9th
Powers (Disciplines):
Intelligence: 12
Speed: 7
Leadership: 12
Melee: 9
Unarmed: 7
Ranged: 4
History:
Nick Names or Alias: The Seraphim, Matt, Mr. Ashford,
Age: Two-hundred and eighty-nine
Aesthetic Age: Mid-thirties
Gender: Male
Sexual Preferances: Straight
LClan: Ventrue
If Other..:
N/ASect: Camarilla
If Independant Faction..:
N/ARank: Primogen
Generation: 9th
Powers (Disciplines):
Dominate - Level FiveDeformities:
Fortitude - Level Four
Presence - Level Four
Aside from a few scars, none that are noteworthy.Derangement(s):
Aside from Antisocial personality disorder, he's sadistic and greedy beyond anything that has ever existed.Misc.:
- Can consume normal, solid food, does so only when alone; as the practice is highly frowned upon amongst the Ventrue.Appearance:
- Can only feed off people with artistic minds; usually targets artists and musicians.
- Might've had a hand in the eruption of the first, and second world-war.
- Appears to have had a hand in the Manhattan project, and the bombings of Hiroshima, and Nagasaki. The extend of this hand, however, remains unknown. He doesn't feel any guilt over this, either.
Fashion Sense/Style:
Matthew doesn't seem like much when he remains seated, as ever. When he gets up from his expensive seat in that big haven of his, however, he'll tower above people at a near seven feet. His frame is thin, and appears to be weak and sickly but the intimidating aura of near-ancient power that dances around him is ever enough to make even the most brave of hunters cringe and beg for their mommies in a bout of pure cowardice. His eyes are a poisonous green, but are usually hidden behind a pair of strategically placed sunglasses.
Expensive suits, shoes and sunglasses; the works. This never changes, and hasn't done so in almost a century.Personality:
Matthew is a man of greed; to him life's value is expressed trough numbers, percentages and dollar signs. As opposed to this he is a likeable man, a socialite, ever working to create a web of relationships he can (And will...) exploit to the greatest of extends. As opposed to many other businessmen and kindred working in organized crime he has quite the pleasant demeanor, ever refrains from swearing and yelling and has an odd love of fixing things trough diplomacy. When angered, however, he will contradict the diplomat inside of himself by using brute force to defend his assets and holdings. Completely disregarding human life in the process, he'll throw his mortal servants at anything until there's nothing left to oppose his will. Matthew adheres to a rather strong code of ethics and honor, and will favor the "gentlemen's rule" in most sticky situations.Physical-Strength: 10
Intelligence: 12
Speed: 7
Leadership: 12
Melee: 9
Unarmed: 7
Ranged: 4
History:
The conditions surrounding Matthew's birth have been a mystery to him since early childhood. What he remembers, though, is growing up in an orphanage in Amsterdam, the capital of the Netherland under the careful watch of the nuns and rather capable teachers. Which, at the time, was quite the exception as decent education wasn't something many kids enjoyed. At the humble age of ten he was told of the considerable sum that was his inheritance, offering insight into the reason why he did enjoy aforementioned education and other luxuries where others did not. Already being one of the more dominant children living in the orphanage, he now had exclusive bragging rights too! How joyful, however, he was quick to grow arrogant, and by the time he turned twenty he had spend and invested most of it in greedy privateers and their crews, he was given a cut of twenty percent for each ship they pillaged and destroyed. Oh the joys of greed.
He kept investing (Look up: gambling? xD) his earnings in ever more lucrative businesses, both legal and illegal, most tending toward the latter. Over the course of the months in that year, each paid off, few failed to do so. Those who did? Let us not speak of the unspeakable things that happen to those that fail to pay back the loans this man extends to thee. Matt still remembers a dark December evening, as the authorities found out and chased him from his mansion. He barely made it out of the nation he had once considered his homeland, he made for London: Where he continued his arguably shady practices for another decade, meeting his partner in crime and business. He bought his status as a vampire of the Ventrue bloodline, and in turn the Camarilla. It wasn't granted to him trough odd codes of honor, the need for a pawn or that one fickle remainder of human emotion; regret.
The partners kept tending to their ever growing wealth, eventually on a beautiful day in the mid of spring 1831 things ended in a stalemate. Both owned exactly fifty percent of the city, the mortals didn't know, but they did. Days passed, turning into weeks as it progressed. Knowing it was a matter of time before his old friend's ambition would stab him in the back; Matthew acted first. Poisoning him like a true "Angel of death" would: An unforgiveable and treacherous action which still haunts him to this day.
He sold what he owned, and made for the Americas, arriving in the Winter of 1841, intending to gain a controlling interest in the metropolises there which were popping out of the ground like mushrooms. First, Chicago: a lucrative company which produced tools like hammers, handsaws and nails for use in construction. The building was burned down and after living in that city for decades: He left for Washington, where he wasted his time for a minimum of eighty decades. Playing the politics and watching his fellow blue bloods play their cities and holdings. Learning every step along the road, things would soon turn in his favor as a new, exciting way of satisfying his greed arose. Organized crime, it was all over the newspapers. This was the reason he had for moving to New York. There were so many ways to hide such illegal practices, right there, under the nose of the government.
There his business qualities prospered, and soon he owned parts of businesses all over the nation, pulling strings in the car industry, the war industry, and yes; even tourism wasn't safe from his greed. It is even rumored, when World War II erupted, that he had a hand in the development of the weapons and their use. But when his part in this became world news; he disappeared hiding for half a decade. Resurfacing in the early fifties, he has been playing the same game ever since, playing the markets by negotiation, intimidation and bribery. There are few who still dare to oppose this most daring and cunning trader, even amongst his own clan.
His rise to the rank of Primogen in the sixties was one of prestige, honor and it was right to the point. His wealth was greater than most, his property rivaled (And still rivals, to this day) the Prince himself, and he kept great ties with every member of the clan and other associated organizations. One could say all the year's worth of gifts and favors were all bribes leading up to this concluding point, but that didn't seem like the man one would see standing before him. He won, defacto, and became Primogen. Rewarding (or bribing...) his fellows with diamonds and gold; he has held the position ever since. For the last fifty years he has been the Primogen of clan Ventrue in New York-city. And anything closely resembling retirement from that position will have to wait for a long, long time.
-Posts to be sure-