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Florian Herzblut

"Even tragic stories can have happy endings..."

0 · 632 views · located in Vegas

a character in “Blood Stained Red”, as played by MatthiasAleksander

Description

Florian Herzblut
Image




Name: Florian Herzblut
Age: 97, although he'll often claim he's a hundred or older to establish awe among mortals.
Gender: Transgender male. He's pretty confident in his appearance now, but there are occasional times where people mistake him for a woman and he falls into a downward spiral of depression and self-hatred.
Sexuality: Bisexual, although he definitely prefers guys. He doesn't really like to get close to people, though, fearing they'll think he's not a 'real' guy.
Race: Half-blood, although he often pretends to be a pureblood, at least around mortals.
Height: 5'9" - usually, he wears heels, because he thinks he's really short, even though he's not. He doesn't like people being taller than him, and often wears some ridiculously tall creations that at some point were labeled 'shoes'.
Weight: Around 140 pounds. Florian has a weird relationship with his weight in that he's happy with it, but still obsessively counts his calories for fear of gaining any more. Thankfully, seeing as most of his nourishment comes in the form of blood, he generally doesn't have too many issues.




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Appearance: Tall and thin, Florian probably could pass as a model. His hair falls to about his shoulders in golden curls, although sometimes he does cut it shorter (especially in warmer months). His hair is extremely soft, and most people enjoy playing with it (he enjoys that rather much as well). Occasionally, he braids his hair, but more often than not, he'll leave it loose. He puts effort into his appearance, but not that much effort.

His eyes are large and a shocking shade of turquoise. He often lines them with eyeliner, or at the very least wears mascara. It's a leftover habit from when he used to present as a girl, but it really brings out his eyes, so he sees no issue with it. In fact, Florian will often wear quite a bit of makeup, and anyone who criticises him gets ignored.

He embraces the whole 'vampire' thing a little bit too much. Where others would prefer to blend in, Florian goes full dracula - heavy jewelry, all black clothing including a generous dose of capes, nails painted black and filed to points, the whole nine yards. It's honestly a little bit ridiculous, how hard he tries, but then he puts on his skin-tight leather pants that display his ass like the Mona Lisa, and a pair of platform boots and all is well with the world.

Overall, his body is rather shapely, even if there is a little bit of extra fat on his thighs and not as much between his legs as he'd like. His chest is nicely sculpted with clearly defined pecs, and almost six-pack abs. There are two rather large scars just below his pecs on either side, remnants from getting a mastectomy that refuse to go away. Florian used to spend effort trying to make them disappear, but now they're so faded he barely even cares anymore.




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History: Florian has had a surprisingly nice life. His mother was - well, is - a pureblood vampire, and a rather wealthy one at that, having built up large coffers of gold over the year. His father was a mortal, a wealthy businessman seduced by his mother's beauty and trapped by his love of being bitten. There was never any discomfort between his parents about one being a vampire - in fact, his father took it rather well, even if he was a bit shocked at first.

There was a large celebration when Florian, then Flora, was born. A perfect baby girl, "she" was as healthy as could be for a halfing child. Energetic and talkative, "she" was everyone's darling, and quickly made friends with just about anyone.

That changed when Florian was about seven. It was then he realised he was a boy, although he didn't come out for another four years. After that realisation, he quickly became introverted and isolated, hating himself and everyone else for not understanding. After all, it was an age when any difference was wrong, and when queers were not considered normal or healthy.

He came out by accident, to his mother. She was shocked and upset and honestly rather worried - after all, what hope was there for her little daughter, to want to live as a man in a world where that wasn't possible? She tried to be supportive, she really did, but she simply didn't understand.

His father took it less well. His morals were more set in those of the time, and he refused to have anything to do with someone who didn't fit in the standard definition of normal. This caused large rifts between him and Florian's mother, and, from then on, any argument his parents had, Florian would blame on himself.

Salvation for him came in his early thirties, when he met a surgeon who had found hormones which would masculinize a body and a surgery that could get rid of his chest. Florian raided the family coffers to pay for this, and quickly became happier and happier as he became more recognisably 'male'. When the same surgeon offered him a chance to get surgery on his lower body, he quickly agreed. The results were not quite what he hoped for, but he's still happy with it all.

His relationship with his family eventually became stronger in his fifties. His father was dying, and Florian did not want him to leave without bettering their relationship. It still wasn't perfect by the time his father died, but they were able to accept each other, and, for that, a large weight of guilt lifted off of Florian's shoulders.

He and his mother currently get along very well. Even though he's long since moved out of their family home, Florian still visits her often, occasionally coming over for early morning tea, or going to the opera together at night. He's extremely happy that their relationship did turn out so good, and is glad he has his mother to go to for advice when he needs it.

Currently, Florian spends his days mastering hobbies such as painting and dance, and will spend his evenings in clubs and bars, or occasionally theatres and operas. He likes to meet new people, both mortals and other vampires, and more often than not has somebody accompanying him home for the evening. Most of his victims do end up leaving his home alive, and often come back for seconds. It's rare that he has a corpse to dispose of, as Florian doesn't really appreciate killing and finds the overall process much too messy to bother.

So begins...

Florian Herzblut's Story

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Character Portrait: Florian Herzblut Character Portrait: Jasper Marks
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Florian Herzblut


It was dark in the ballroom as he entered, the air warm and thick with sweat. He could smell the blood rushing through the dancers' veins, hear their pulses pounding in their veins. Mortals. So fragile, yet never noticing the danger lurking within.

Florian knew there were other vampires in the room, knew they were hunting for the same thing as him. He kept his gaze turned down, however, even as he encountered them. While he would convince mortals he was a pureblood, he was not as foolish with other vampires - especially purebloods. To them, he was scum, and as scum, he stayed in his rightful place, gaze turned down to the ground, allowing them their first choice of prey.

As the evening wore on, the crowds thinned and the music darkened, vibrating with a heavy beat that settled down in his very core. The respectful ones, the ones who had places to be and lives to live, had long since left, occasionally clinging to the arm of an evening companion. Now all that was left was the dregs of society, the druggies, the whores, the bite-addicted freshies, everyone coming just to get their next fix for that evening.

This was the prey he could choose, the prey that would run to him as quickly as it would to any other vampire, regardless of how contorted, how broken, his body was.

His eyes drifted across the room to the bar, and almost immediately spotted his next prey. He was bruised from head to toe - not that Florian was much better, a thick bruise marring his cheek from when his last prey had realised he wasn't as male as he seemed - and heavy teeth marks were carved into his neck.

He was surely addicted to the bite, fallen far from any chance of salvation, and yet Florian couldn't help the rush of jealousy that rose up when he saw the boy. At least he was loved, and even if he strayed close to death every evening, at least it was from his own choice and not because of who he was.

Florian would have wallowed in his jealousy - his standard habit - but a thread of hunger tugged at his stomach, and he approached the boy. Maybe he was a freshie, but at the end of the evening, a freshie was still blood, and probably wouldn't focus too much on Florian as long as he got his fix. And Florian was hungry and jealous and needed something, anything, to channel his emotions that night.

"What's a pretty face like you doing in a place like this?" he asked, sidling up beside the boy. An age-old line, but it started conversations, so that was all Florian cared. The boy was much taller than him, but Florian didn't care, not now. He was thirsty now, really thirsty - how long had it been since he last drank? - and he could hear the blood rushing beneath the boy's throat, an entrancing thud of humanity warming the dark of the night.

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