This one I think I'll actually have to draw.
Oh no I'm sorry it's a vampire. But bear with me, mmmk?
Felice is a young man, in his mid-teens, with brown, ridiculously curly, springy hair and an olive complexion, a bit of a pronounced nose and vampire yellowed eyes that hold a constant, distant sadness despite his name. Felice is dressed sparingly in a pair of trousers with patches on the knees and a half open, button-up. He looks like he could use a good scrubbing, but since he no longer sweats, he merely smells of the dirt he sleeps on.
Felice doesn't look that much different from other vampires at first glance. Push back some hair and you'll find that his ears have been cropped and scarred over, giving him a less humanizing look. Open his mouth and you'll find that his fangs are missing, leaving gaps of black where canines should have been on top and bottom. Finally, his fingers are stubbed, chopped off at the first knuckle and cauterized closed, round and calloused at the point of amputation.
He's also got quite a few scars on his body, along with a brand on his ribs of some organization's seal, signifying that he is property.
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Felice
I could really use an angel...
0 · 426 views · located in 
The Infinite Void
a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by CrashQueen
Description
Personality
Forced timid, Felice never raises his voice, even if he is upset. He has a nervous stutter and a tendency to apologize for things he didn't even do. He'll shrink back at loud noises or people drawing weapons, and if he's hurt, he will just get out of people's way to heal by his lonesome and rarely lets the pain show in his face.
Not once has Felice smiled, half because he's missing a lot of teeth, but mostly because he just doesn't have a reason to.
Felice's memory is flecked from trauma.
History
Felice's Unlife began about 450 years ago at the hands of a very wanted Vampiress who took him from his family as a hostage to negotiate freedom with a group of hunters. Needless to say, she lied about there being a reversal to Felice's Turning and met her own end at the hands of the slayers.
At first, the slayers took pity on Felice, who'd been dragged into Hell unjustly, and took him in, trying to reason the vampiric urges out of him. It didn't work. Felice took his first blood practically on the slayers' doorstep. Rather than killing him outright, they opted to more brutal methods of correction: defanging and declawing the fledgling vampire, a ghetto transfusion of holy water to eliminate any budding supernatural powers. He was forced to be human, when it was clear that he no longer was. Fed on cow's blood, Felice was kept within the group of slayers as a pet for generations.
But as time wore on, and anti-vampire sentiment grew, the generations became needlessly cruel to Felice, kicking, cutting, and beating him if he didn't do what they wanted or even out of sheer boredom. He couldn't die, so there was no guilt.
Later on, the most recent group of slayers heard of an Archaic dhampir still wandering the city and planned on offering Felice (who, in compare, was not much more than a 2-dollar feeder mouse) to the beast as a way to gain its allegiance. Felice learned of this and ran away.
Now, Felice lives with the vampiress Chiara, serving as a surrogate fledgling. He's becoming stronger, and hungrier, with each passing day....
So begins...
Felice's Story
āGet out, shoo! No free meals, especially for you lot!ā announced an NPC cook, glancing down at something at his feet, waving his arms to send that something back out the door. āI donāt know how you managed to get in, but if you donāt have the money, you donāt get food. No handouts!ā
The floor spoke back to him, āPl-please sir...You must have a...have an extra pack or two to s-spare. Just one pack...I wonāt b-bother anybody. Iāll just take it and leave.ā Felice picked himself up from where heād been kicked across the floor, getting to one knee and glancing up. His face was smeared with grime, scuffs and tears on his clothes. He looked like heād spent the night in a cardboard box, and that probably wasnāt far from the truth.
The cook shook his head, arms crossed. āItās policy. No handouts...take your sorry homeless ass to Cantiās or something. Theyāre a bunch of bleeding hearts.ā
He turned around, shut and locked the door to the kitchen, leaving Felice out in the bar, humiliated.
Defeated, the young man rose to his feet and started to make his way towards the back alley door.
The floor spoke back to him, āPl-please sir...You must have a...have an extra pack or two to s-spare. Just one pack...I wonāt b-bother anybody. Iāll just take it and leave.ā Felice picked himself up from where heād been kicked across the floor, getting to one knee and glancing up. His face was smeared with grime, scuffs and tears on his clothes. He looked like heād spent the night in a cardboard box, and that probably wasnāt far from the truth.
The cook shook his head, arms crossed. āItās policy. No handouts...take your sorry homeless ass to Cantiās or something. Theyāre a bunch of bleeding hearts.ā
He turned around, shut and locked the door to the kitchen, leaving Felice out in the bar, humiliated.
Defeated, the young man rose to his feet and started to make his way towards the back alley door.
āGet out, shoo! No free meals, especially for you lot!ā announced an NPC cook, glancing down at something at his feet, waving his arms to send that something back out the door. āI donāt know how you managed to get in, but if you donāt have the money, you donāt get food. No handouts!ā
The floor spoke back to him, āPl-please sir...You must have a...have an extra pack or two to s-spare. Just one pack...I wonāt b-bother anybody. Iāll just take it and leave.ā Felice picked himself up from where heād been kicked across the floor, getting to one knee and glancing up. His face was smeared with grime, scuffs and tears on his clothes. He looked like heād spent the night in a cardboard box, and that probably wasnāt far from the truth.
The cook shook his head, arms crossed. āItās policy. No handouts...take your sorry homeless ass to Cantiās or something. Theyāre a bunch of bleeding hearts.ā
He turned around, shut and locked the door to the kitchen, leaving Felice out in the bar, humiliated.
Defeated, the young man rose to his feet and started to make his way towards the back alley door, rubbing his face with the sleeve of his shirt.
The floor spoke back to him, āPl-please sir...You must have a...have an extra pack or two to s-spare. Just one pack...I wonāt b-bother anybody. Iāll just take it and leave.ā Felice picked himself up from where heād been kicked across the floor, getting to one knee and glancing up. His face was smeared with grime, scuffs and tears on his clothes. He looked like heād spent the night in a cardboard box, and that probably wasnāt far from the truth.
The cook shook his head, arms crossed. āItās policy. No handouts...take your sorry homeless ass to Cantiās or something. Theyāre a bunch of bleeding hearts.ā
He turned around, shut and locked the door to the kitchen, leaving Felice out in the bar, humiliated.
Defeated, the young man rose to his feet and started to make his way towards the back alley door, rubbing his face with the sleeve of his shirt.
Scenting iron, Felice paused on his way towards the door, yellowed eyes zeroing in on the fragments of bone and blood that Adrian shook out of his gloves. So very hungry and desperate, the pet made his way towards the table, eyes downcast, looking at the floor, but muttering all the while.
āY-you donāt have blood to...to spare, do you?ā
Likely he wonāt even acknowledge you, Felice. What are you but a worm? He stepped back from the table, lifting his eyes to gaze around the bar anxiously, before asking again, though he was quickly losing faith in the endeavor.
āPlease? Just a splash...and you-youāll never have to see me again..ā
āY-you donāt have blood to...to spare, do you?ā
Likely he wonāt even acknowledge you, Felice. What are you but a worm? He stepped back from the table, lifting his eyes to gaze around the bar anxiously, before asking again, though he was quickly losing faith in the endeavor.
āPlease? Just a splash...and you-youāll never have to see me again..ā
Felice looked like a man whoād seen better days, and it was apparent in his red-rimmed eyes. He stared wordlessly at Adrian before reaching a tentative hand out, slowly...
In the next instant, the vampire reappeared over by the fire, one glove pinched shut in one hand, while the other he tipped back into his mouth like it was the chalice of goddamned LIFE, the pint of blood at his feet. He squeezed the fingers, determined to get every last drop of blood from the material and down his throat.
He turned his back to the rest of the bar to protect his precious meal, scarfing it down as quickly as he could before it could be stolen from him. He was more an animal than man, even if he did possess the higher faculties that separated the two. It was doubtful the pitiful thing would growl if somebody approached him, more than likely heād concede the blood to the first thing to bully him.
Then he saw Gokoās paw reach towards the revolver at his hip out of the corner of his eyes. The vampire paused before dropping both gloves, the quarter of blood spilling out of the other as Felice backed away towards the door.
āIām sorry...Iām sorry!ā He muttered out as he tried to make a hasty departure.
In the next instant, the vampire reappeared over by the fire, one glove pinched shut in one hand, while the other he tipped back into his mouth like it was the chalice of goddamned LIFE, the pint of blood at his feet. He squeezed the fingers, determined to get every last drop of blood from the material and down his throat.
He turned his back to the rest of the bar to protect his precious meal, scarfing it down as quickly as he could before it could be stolen from him. He was more an animal than man, even if he did possess the higher faculties that separated the two. It was doubtful the pitiful thing would growl if somebody approached him, more than likely heād concede the blood to the first thing to bully him.
Then he saw Gokoās paw reach towards the revolver at his hip out of the corner of his eyes. The vampire paused before dropping both gloves, the quarter of blood spilling out of the other as Felice backed away towards the door.
āIām sorry...Iām sorry!ā He muttered out as he tried to make a hasty departure.
Felice stared at Goko apprehended himself, the dog-creature dropping to the ground from the sedative. The pet vampire might have found this funny if he werenāt so petrified of being shot. Not that the shots would EVER kill him, but he wasnāt exactly immune to pain. He almost returned to the pint of blood, grabbing it up and heading his way out...
But a pipsqueak was blocking the door.
Normally, any other vampire would have pushed Parson out of the way, but until a few days ago, Felice had never encountered another of his type that was still alive. He froze again, the pint of blood visible in his hand for a brief second before he hid it behind the back, shaking his head.
āNo...no more...ā he began, clearly lying.
There was blood left, but it had spilled out across the dirty concrete floor. The pint was pristine and clearly made for the consumption of anything superior to Felice. Even mosquitos.
But a pipsqueak was blocking the door.
Normally, any other vampire would have pushed Parson out of the way, but until a few days ago, Felice had never encountered another of his type that was still alive. He froze again, the pint of blood visible in his hand for a brief second before he hid it behind the back, shaking his head.
āNo...no more...ā he began, clearly lying.
There was blood left, but it had spilled out across the dirty concrete floor. The pint was pristine and clearly made for the consumption of anything superior to Felice. Even mosquitos.
āItās...mine!ā Felice protested, turning around and huddling over the pack, his back facing Parson, free to be shredded. The childās words seemed to only be absorbed as fact. Yes, he was a loser. A toy that lost its fun and ran out before it could be thrown away. āI d-donāt have any money.ā
He tried to snarl, but considering he was only in possession of his front teeth and molars and not a single fang to speak of, it was a feeble attempt at a threat. Felice was easily a foot taller than the boy and obviously older when he had originally turned.
But like hell was he going to give that pint up.
He tried to snarl, but considering he was only in possession of his front teeth and molars and not a single fang to speak of, it was a feeble attempt at a threat. Felice was easily a foot taller than the boy and obviously older when he had originally turned.
But like hell was he going to give that pint up.
The pet vampire did NOT like being grabbed onto and backed away from Parson again, staring at him with lamplike eyes until he couldnāt back away anymore. After determining that the child wasnāt going to attack him, he slid down the wall to sit, knees pulled to his chest to take up as little space as possible, clutching the pint to him tightly.
His voice was low, as if he were afraid somebody would listen in.
āSlayers....right after I turned. Tried get me t-to go back...to human again. I couldnāt...I failed. So they pulled out my fangs....s-sealed the wounds with blessed metal. Canāt feed. Canāt draw blood....ā
Up close, it was noticed that his fingers were a bit shorter than they should have been, round, amphibian-like nubs without nails. The slayers took Feliceās claws too.
He didnāt say any more and ripped the top off of the packet of blood.
His voice was low, as if he were afraid somebody would listen in.
āSlayers....right after I turned. Tried get me t-to go back...to human again. I couldnāt...I failed. So they pulled out my fangs....s-sealed the wounds with blessed metal. Canāt feed. Canāt draw blood....ā
Up close, it was noticed that his fingers were a bit shorter than they should have been, round, amphibian-like nubs without nails. The slayers took Feliceās claws too.
He didnāt say any more and ripped the top off of the packet of blood.
āHnnnnh...th-that would be nice....if it werenāt so...expensive.ā Felice replied. He definitely didnāt look like a man in the possession of ANY money, and at best, he just looked like a snack for Timo. A tasty treat that COULDNāT fight back. The first pint Felice had was drained in record time, a deluge of blood rolling down the pet vampireās throat.
The new pint splashed onto Feliceās tattered shirt but mostly on the cement floor. At the command, Felice obediently bent his head down, on his hands and knees, and started to lap the red up like the mangy mongrel he was. Disobedience earned him pain, and he tried to avoid it as best he could. He was only a step above learned helplessness.
The new pint splashed onto Feliceās tattered shirt but mostly on the cement floor. At the command, Felice obediently bent his head down, on his hands and knees, and started to lap the red up like the mangy mongrel he was. Disobedience earned him pain, and he tried to avoid it as best he could. He was only a step above learned helplessness.
Felice looked back up from licking the floor, a smear of red around his mouth that he wiped off onto the back of his shirt. āIām sorry...I-I...donāt feel like...a vampire. Just a thing...just a thing that takes up y-your space. Oh...iām...ā
He scooted away out of Parsonās personal space, tediously licking blood from the tips of his deformed fingers, eyes wary.
If Parson should be disgusted with anything, it would be with the humans that had the brass to abuse an already confused fledgling with such mutilation. But they were generationsā dead. Felice had become some fucked up, living heirloom that nobody treasured, but felt obligated to keep around out of respect of their elders.
If Parson were to bring this miserable excuse of a vampire home...his dog would probably snarf it down on the spot. It would be a bad idea.
He scooted away out of Parsonās personal space, tediously licking blood from the tips of his deformed fingers, eyes wary.
If Parson should be disgusted with anything, it would be with the humans that had the brass to abuse an already confused fledgling with such mutilation. But they were generationsā dead. Felice had become some fucked up, living heirloom that nobody treasured, but felt obligated to keep around out of respect of their elders.
If Parson were to bring this miserable excuse of a vampire home...his dog would probably snarf it down on the spot. It would be a bad idea.
āEat....no...no. I ran away because they w-were going to give me to a dhampir....ā He shook his head. āI donāt want to...to die....when I just got free.ā Heād seen plenty of vampires die at the hands of his owners, and the hate in their eyes when they saw him, accusing him of selling out. Playing for the wrong team. It was something he feared the most, even more than the touch of blessed silver on his bare skin.
Blood, clothes? Nobody was nice...not without a motive...but he didnāt have the luxury of doubt. āClean c-clothes....would...be nice.ā
Blood, clothes? Nobody was nice...not without a motive...but he didnāt have the luxury of doubt. āClean c-clothes....would...be nice.ā
Feliceās face flushed now that heād imbibed enough blood to give himself some color. He looked down at the floor, ashamed of himself and all his lack of value. āS-slaves generally donāt get money....ā he began, staring at the chair at the bar like it was some unobtainable object. Something only gods could use.
When had he ever been let up from the floor to sit like an equal at the table? Never.
He sat at the bar and fiddled with his fingers nervously, in disbelief that somebody actually invited him to sit in the chair. For that brief second, he felt like a man again...nay, not just a man. A god.
He didnāt protest the fact that he was stupid or that he smelled bad.
When had he ever been let up from the floor to sit like an equal at the table? Never.
He sat at the bar and fiddled with his fingers nervously, in disbelief that somebody actually invited him to sit in the chair. For that brief second, he felt like a man again...nay, not just a man. A god.
He didnāt protest the fact that he was stupid or that he smelled bad.
Felice held the cup in a subtly trembling hand, sniffing at it before tilting the fluid back. His voice faltered. āMy owners are bad...very bad...people. Vampire slayers, the great-great g-grandchildren of the original ones that captured me. I am a hand-me-down...a toy for them t-to torture. Even other vampires are treated better than I am for the brief moments they are still alive.ā
He shook his head. āItās always been like this...I wouldnāt...even remember that I w-was a vampire if they didnāt r-remind me of it. I donāt feel like one.ā
Felice almost seemed to shrink away from Xyphosā blades as the man brushed past.
He shook his head. āItās always been like this...I wouldnāt...even remember that I w-was a vampire if they didnāt r-remind me of it. I donāt feel like one.ā
Felice almost seemed to shrink away from Xyphosā blades as the man brushed past.
āA lifetime of abuse tends to...do that to you.ā He glanced at his hands, recalling the one time heād ripped a horse in half like it was nothing because he had been hungry. And the resulting blood-eagle that followed. Lashed between trees, ribs cracked open...typically, were he a not an Undead, he would no doubt die from asphyxiation. But he was cursed with life eternal, and they left him there for nights, occasionally stopping by to rub paste mixed with Holy water into the wounds to slow down the healing.
It started to rot from exposure, insects crawled in, and only then he was released and left to heal, purging maggots engorged on own flesh.
Needless to say, he didnāt try anything like that again.
He finished the blood. āI canāt hurt people anymore.ā Well, of course he CAN, but he really meant he couldnāt. Not without the threat of torment looming over him like a stormcloud.
It started to rot from exposure, insects crawled in, and only then he was released and left to heal, purging maggots engorged on own flesh.
Needless to say, he didnāt try anything like that again.
He finished the blood. āI canāt hurt people anymore.ā Well, of course he CAN, but he really meant he couldnāt. Not without the threat of torment looming over him like a stormcloud.
Felice considered this, but there was a GLARING flaw in this plan. And that was, being a poor farmerās son in the early 1500s in rural Italy.....Felice had been illiterate. And being in servitude only continued the tradition of him being illiterate. He didnāt read signs or maps. Heād only found Gambits by his sense of smell. Registering as a legit citizen would be difficult.
Vampires are people too.
But what about the vampires who were never a person to begin with? The ones never given a chance to come to terms with their Undead existence, in that turmoiled middle between the bite and first blood. Felice had essentially been nipped in the bud, perpetually an infant as far as vampires were concerned. Never getting the chance to mature.
āThey do deserve jail....for the s-stuff they have done.ā He pushed some hair around, tucking it behind his half an ear, cropped in a diagonal swipe.
Vampires are people too.
But what about the vampires who were never a person to begin with? The ones never given a chance to come to terms with their Undead existence, in that turmoiled middle between the bite and first blood. Felice had essentially been nipped in the bud, perpetually an infant as far as vampires were concerned. Never getting the chance to mature.
āThey do deserve jail....for the s-stuff they have done.ā He pushed some hair around, tucking it behind his half an ear, cropped in a diagonal swipe.
āI appre- appreciate the help...I really do.ā The pet vampire replied, offering the child a small curl at the edge of his lips, the closest to a smile that Felice would ever get to. āThank you...ā
Felice doubted he could function very well as a registered citizen of Wing City, even if he got handouts and half a job....Being a sub-human was all that he knew. He couldnāt make it work.
āH-how does a child vampire have a dhampir as a...pet?ā Pet. He could relate to that, since thatās what Felice was, a domesticated vampire. He canāt hurt you anymore honey, look, heās got no fangs. No claws. No powers. You can feed him and dress him up and make him look pretty....
Or you could cut off all his hair, toss him around, and turn him into a loathesome creature. His former owners had chosen the second option.
Felice doubted he could function very well as a registered citizen of Wing City, even if he got handouts and half a job....Being a sub-human was all that he knew. He couldnāt make it work.
āH-how does a child vampire have a dhampir as a...pet?ā Pet. He could relate to that, since thatās what Felice was, a domesticated vampire. He canāt hurt you anymore honey, look, heās got no fangs. No claws. No powers. You can feed him and dress him up and make him look pretty....
Or you could cut off all his hair, toss him around, and turn him into a loathesome creature. His former owners had chosen the second option.
Felice considered this. He was too disadvantaged to be a āfreeā vampire, you couldnāt set a domestic dog into the wild and expect it to become feral again....it would get torn to pieces by coyotes. The same was true for Felice...it was obvious he was somebodyās pet.
āMaybe...but not them. I canāt...I wonāt...go back to them.ā
A dhampir taking orders from a vampire?....Interesting. But terrifying.
āMaybe...but not them. I canāt...I wonāt...go back to them.ā
A dhampir taking orders from a vampire?....Interesting. But terrifying.
Felice stared at his nubs of fingers. āThat...thatās what they did to begin with it. Poured d-dhampir spit over the ends before they could grow back...They wonāt grow back...ever.ā He frowned. āBut clothes would be nice....youāre too kind...ā
He nodded before Uriel approached.
And Felice slid out of his chair and returned to the floor, knowing when he wasnāt supposed to show the audacity that he believed he could be equal. He cast his eyes elsewhere, sinking into the background the way he usually did. He took the half-finished glass of blood with him. He didnāt want to be a bother, to take up more space than he absolutely needed to.
He nodded before Uriel approached.
And Felice slid out of his chair and returned to the floor, knowing when he wasnāt supposed to show the audacity that he believed he could be equal. He cast his eyes elsewhere, sinking into the background the way he usually did. He took the half-finished glass of blood with him. He didnāt want to be a bother, to take up more space than he absolutely needed to.
Felice wandered back over with a bit of a whine but nodded, standing and brushing himself off. āAh. My name is Felice....I donāt...I donāt have a last name.ā
He tried to adjust his shirt to make himself look not so pitiful, keeping his mouth closed to hide the fact he was missing a great deal of teeth. Once again, he didnāt protest at being called a āthingā....a thing seemed to be the most appropriate label at the moment.
He tried to adjust his shirt to make himself look not so pitiful, keeping his mouth closed to hide the fact he was missing a great deal of teeth. Once again, he didnāt protest at being called a āthingā....a thing seemed to be the most appropriate label at the moment.
Felice mouthed a silent āthank youā to the boy. It was a bit overwhelming to go from being considered lesser than dirt than something needing help, like an actual person. He couldnāt help but worry that he was stinking up the room with his presence. When he felt that way with the guild, he retreated to his room in the cellar.
He narrowed his eyes at Uriel.
āNobody likes a...traitor...ā he muttered, sweeping his eyes downwards again, fully expecting to get hit for his attempt at being bold.
He narrowed his eyes at Uriel.
āNobody likes a...traitor...ā he muttered, sweeping his eyes downwards again, fully expecting to get hit for his attempt at being bold.