Description
Name: Parson Lessard
birth name: Parson Brandon Waters
Age: 10
Birthday: August 31
Turned: September 22
Height: 3' 8"
Reason: Malnourished for several years of his life, stunting his growth severely. Plus his birth parents were both short people.
Weight: 45.5 lbs
Reason: slightly underweight Parson put on some weight before he was turned. Just enough that while he is lighter than he should be, he is not necessarily unhealthy.
Personality
Slightly sociopathic, but not much, so it's okay.
He fears frogs and insects, considering both disgusting animals. He also believes that the stray dog population would be dramatically decreased if he was simply allowed to practice his hobby of dissection on the animals.
Equipment
Shadow Step
Parson has the ability to step through the shadows in a form of teleportation. This requires a shadow big enough for the boy to fit in.
Touch of fatigue
A necromantic cantrip, this fledgling necormancer’s first ability is to simply remove a small amount oflife energy from an animal or person, and to cause them to be slightly more tired. This lasts for three rounds.
Ghoul's Touch
Causes localized paralysis of the area touched. Lasts four rounds.
Drain life
It drains the life out of something, and transfers it to Parson. He could use it to heal injuries, like feeding on blood would give him strength, only more potent immediate affects. Effects are immediate.
Necromancer's Knife
Stolen from his mother, this knife has the ability to dehydrate if left inside of flesh for very long.
Cheap Red Lighter
Given to him for his protection, Parson has the ability to summon his mother's hellbeast Scamp by flicking this on.
Parson has a very curious hobby of animal dissection. As such, he keeps a dissection kit in a black doctor's bag, along with a few extras.
Dissection kit:
Surgical scissors, iris scissors, tissue forceps, scalpel handle,
scalpel blades, probe with angled tip, dissection needles, dropping pipette,
dissecting pins, rigid metal ruler, and case.
Fine Bone Saw
A Razor Blade
History
It didn't take long for Parson's first family, his birth family, to realize something was wrong with their boy. No matter how they disciplined him, he seemed hell bent on being cruel to everyone about him. A bully and a brat all in one, Parson could not have told you much about his family, other than he hated them.
So he took care of them, as they slept. The actions could have landed the young boy in jail, for murdering his parents and his baby sister. But he ran away after the crime, taking to the streets with ease. It wasn't long until he ended up with a favorite haunt of sort. Gambit's Bar was dangerous, horrifying, and all around exactly what he needed.
There he met, and began to torture and torment, the girl who would be his new sister. It didn't take long after meeting the small twisted girl for him to meet Sanina, who would be his new mother. His new mother who was clearly no more in her right mind than the rest of the small family, as she carried around the skeletal remains of a young girl, whom she called Jezebell.
Parson, who could barely read, and was often a crude young boy, turned out to have necromantic powers, that his new mother 'Nina' began to teach him. He even slowly began to accept his sister Bethany, though he would never be nice to her, he would be nicer. It was to his advantage to be nice to his family after all, even if both sister and mother were touched.
What many do not realize about Parson is that he positively loathes his Aunt Kaitlynn. Not only does she think him weird at best, she also shows quite a bit of favoritism to his sister Bethany, at least in his eyes. With this loathing between them, it only made sense that, on a day when his aunt wasn’t quite herself, she turned Parson into a vampire.
Parson has since gained some sort of equilibrium and is a well known name in the human parts business, as he kills his people himself. He is wanted by the Wing City Police Department for an incident of blood which he slaughtered every single doctor on duty at Wing City General Hospital. While he was caught once, and put on trial, the boy was declared criminally insane and put instead in a High Security Institute meant for insane supernaturals. His mother was kind enough to break him out and Parson now lives not above Gambit's but in the same house as his grandfather and his mother.
So begins...
Parson clamored off of Bethany grinning. He stood tall and proud. "I get to kill bats? Can I use my new knife?" He asked, pulling it out of his boot. It was, in fact, Sanina's knife. He had stolen it earlier, or perhaps late last night.
The boy turns to his whiny little sister. "Sorry Bethany." He told her, without an ounce of remorse for his behavior. His mind immediately wne ton autopilot, trying to figure out how he could kill hundreds of bats. It would be fun, that was for sure.
Parson glares darkly as Sanina turns her attention to Bethany. Oh. Oh Beth would pay for that later. How dare she get more attention than Parson! He'd cut her up. Cut her up where Nina would not see.
One of these days, the boy resolved, he'd kill her. But first, he'd make her suffer oh so much.
Parson glares darkly at Bethany. "I'm gonna go kill bats now Nina. And Bethany was too bad! She ran away!" He declared "How can I watch her if she runs away?" Mind you, she ran away because he fully intended to burn her, among other things. But that part was unsaid.
He'd burn her later. "I'll bring you lots of bats later Nina."
Parson stomped his foot. "Did not! I did not put kitty bits in your bed!" He denied vehemently. He crossed his arms and stomped off, to go find lots of bats to kill.
Vincent Lessard lands his gryphon on the ground with a look about. He could smell something around here. His headless corpse escort dismounts with him, their arms looping around each other.
Parson had a wheelbarrel full of bats and a knife. He also had a net, which he was using to catch the hapless creatures before he stabbed them with his new knife.
He hadn't really noticed, but each bat was, perhaps, slightly shriveled. It was an effect of the knife that he didn't know of. Nor was he payign much attention to it right now. Instead, he was enjoying himself stabbing the bats and throwing them on the cart.
The first few were particularly mangled, as he had taken his time. But Nina wanted hundreds, so that'd take ages.
Vincent Lessard guides his escort towards Parson, following his nose. "You there boy, you reek of death and my daughter. Are you that boy she's adopted?" he inquires. The headless corpse next to him walks as elegantly as he does in their approach.
Parson stabs another bat before looking to Vincent. "You mean Sanina? Yeah, Nina took me and that- and Bethany in. Why?" He asked tossing it in with the other bats. Killin bats was less fun that he thought when made into a chore. And this felt like a chore. Surely that was enough for now?
Besides, what use did Sanina have for so many stupid bats. There were jsut dumb animals. Dumb, dead animals.
Vincent Lessard stares down at the bats. "Speak when spoken to, boy. Your elders deserve respect. Give answers, never questions." He was mostly being hard the child because they weren't of the same blood. "What do you think of my girlfriend here," he says, indicating to the headless woman whos arm was wrapped around his. The claw wounds at her neck probably hinted of the way she died.
Parson stared at him. "She's got no head." He told him calmly. "I seen weirder. Sanina keeps dead cats." He told him, staring at Vincent curiously. "I think Nina is a little crazy. She carries around a skeleton like its a baby."
Vincent Lessard looks at the headless woman for a moment. "She's a filthy whore!" he shouts, fingers turning to claws, gripping into the flesh at her shoulder and tearing the arm from the socket. He swings an arm around to knock the body over, then begins stomp on the chest with one foot. "What did I say about respecting your elders boy?" he asks dangerously, pausing in his stomping, "You do not call my daughter crazy, and what's wrong with my granddaughter?" He resumes his stomping.
Parson stared at him, a hint of respect in his expression. What a wonderful grandparent he had. "You said respect them. I'm not unrespecting you." His speech had been affected by his time on the streets. Which meant his accent was as lousy as his grammar. "Alright. I won't call Nina crazy. And Bethany is stupid. That's what's wrong with her."
Vincent Lessard shrugs, cracking beneath his foot as it breaks the ribs. The next couple of stomps left his foot in the womans chest, a mangled scene of blood, organs and flesh. He turns to examine Parson, retrieving his foot from the macabre mess he left. "She likes it too," he comments, the corpse climbing back up, "Disgusting woman. Who is Bethany?"
Parson stared at him. "My new sister. Your granddaughter. She's a baby and cries a lot." Of course, that may be because she was often left in Parson's deranged care. " Were you talking about that skeleton? That's supposed to be a kid?"
Vincent Lessard nods. "Yes, Jezzebelle is my granddaughter. What's wrong with that?" he asks plainly, as if not understanding the skeleton part of it. "You don't understand this world very much, do you child. Grpyhon, pull the cart," he calls, the decaying, half rotted bird with loose feathers falling away moving to grab onto the cart in anyway it could and start dragging it. "Which way were you headed?"
Parson shrugs. "Guess not. And all right. I was goign to get mroe bats. Nina said she wanted a coupla hundred. I don't think I have that many yet." The boy, despite his best effort, had gathered precisely 68 bats.3 of which would be completely unusable, though he didn't know that.
Vincent Lessard seems to give him an approving look. "They'll make a mighty swarm, won't they," he insists. "Have you developed anything yet boy? Other then bat hunting skills." His voice sounded a bit indignant, possibly impatient. Why invest in a child who could not promise anything in return.
Parson stares up at him. "Whatchu mean? Like powers and stuff?" He shook his head, stabbing one fo the bats. It began to shrivel, as the knife stayed in it and he watche fascinated as the bat dried out entirely, forgetting the question.
"Cool. I like my knife." Technically it was Sanina's. And the fact that he could use it simply showed that he had some type of necromantic power in him, though he didn't know how to access it yet.
Vincent Lessard nods approvingly to go with his look. "Yes, powers and 'stuff'." Despite his looks, he had distaste in the commoness of the boy. He sharply turns, aiming to grab the boy by the chin in one sudden motion, then tilt it left, then right. "Have you been turned yet? Has Sanina yet granted you our gift?" he asks.
Parson submitted to Vincent's touch though he made a nasty face at the handling. "What're you talking about? You're weird!" He declared, "I don't know nothing 'bout no powers." Indeed, he didn't know of his talent. Though, if he survived long enough, he might soon discover. "I can tell Nina's dead things are dead. I can't figure out why they move. they got something in them that makes 'em do it, but I can't cut it out. I tried." He could see the power, he merely couldn't access it. So he tried killing it and dicing up what had it to find them.
"I ain't turned. Whatever that is."
RPG
