In which I just stopped giving a shit.
-original image by Konnoru on DA. I'll draw eventually.
Rowen (or Ro, if you prefer) is one of the undead. One of the most hated breeds of the undead, the name of which sends people hissing and teenage girls squealing:
The dreaded
SPARKLEPIRE.He's a young man, having been turned somewhere in his late teens, a sharp dresser with ridiculously napalm orange and pink hair with black eyes.
He totally wears guyliner.
He isn't allergic to light more than the sun causes his glitter to flare up like a bad case of herpes. Much to the chagrin of his vampiric brethren.
He hears they don't take too kindly to his kind.
He can transform into a bat or mist like your average bloodsucker, but the bat bears his wacky hair colors and the mist smells like strawberries.
Rather than being a mope-pile like certain others of his breed, Ro enjoys his unlife to the fullest. He has an insatiable appetite for naughtiness, whether in more sexual terms or just causing general grief for any unfortunate sap he comes across.
He does have a few people he considers friends, though he still pesters them, but to a lesser extent.
He doesn't feed directly from humans because he's too lazy to hunt. But Wing City has always catered to the vampires that don't want to get their hands dirty...through drug-laced blood offered freely in government handouts. Rowen subsists primarily on this blood, so he is typically stoned out of his mind instead of bloodlusting like a god knows how old vampire should.
He is upbeat and polite at the right times and rather enjoys the company of humans. After all, he too was human once, a fact a lot of others tend to forget.
