About eighty, though appears sixteen or seventeenGender;
VampireKnows about the Others;
Caucasian Eye Color;
BlueHair Color and Length;
Dyed white-blond, mid-chest lengthHeight;
Nothing too noticeableClothing Style;
Sebastian had a thing for the goth culture in the eighties and nineties, but that's beginning to bore him. He now simply wears black all the time, black anything, black everything.Personality;
Sebastian has spent a long time alone, and therefore he's a bit strange. He's a silent person by nature, and when you cajole him into speaking, the things he says tend to be a little morbid. He's not a mean person, but he can be a little blunt and gets short with people when they're slow to understand something he's saying. At times, when he wants to be, Sebastian can be a friendly guy. But most of the time personability is just far too much work.Fears;
No matter where he is or what he's wearing, Sebastian always sits cross-legged. Except when he's driving...because that's just not possible.Other;
Technically, a high school student, but that ship sailed a long time ago; you'll never catch him in school. Sebastian is accustomed to stealing what he needs and sleeping wherever someone will let him.Pet;
Sebastian died in the back seat of a car, and therefore the "dirt" he carries around is actually a chunk of leather and upholstery. He made it into a rather elaborate and somewhat ugly bracelet, and wears it all the time.Parents;
Edward and Helen LaneSiblings;
None (he hopes)Birthplace;
Sebastian was born in rural Ohio in the mid-fifties and grew up under the strict eye of his religious parents. Edward and Helen Lane were part of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints; they made their son attend church meetings three days a week plus the youth group meetings on Saturday. Sebastian endured this with a quiet, patient fury that manifested itself only out of his parents' sight. When they went out, he hung out with a crowd that was hardly church-worthy. They were the older kids, the high-school drop-outs, the ones who hung onto the fringe of the small-town society. When he was fifteen, his parents caught him with alcohol and became enraged, banning him from going anywhere but church. They pulled him out of school and began to home school him. Sebastian took this very valid excuse to run away from home.
For a year and a half or so, he hitchhiked around the state, getting into drugs and sex and, if you'll forgive me, rock and roll. He did some things he wasn't proud of to get rides, but usually he was wasted enough not to care. One day, specifically, the eighth of October, he took a ride from a guy in a black Cadillac. This meeting turned out to be very unfortunate; the next thing Sebastian knew, the guy had attacked him, near drained him of his blood, and thrown him in the backseat of his car. He died on the stain-proof black upholstery, and, after a matter of hours, returned as a vampire. The man who turned him was extremely surprised to find him alive. He pulled his car over to the side of the road, dug a chunk of the backseat out with a small penknife, and presented it to Sebastian, saying, "Don't ever lose this. You're on your own now, kid." And with that, he left the confused boy on the side of the road, holding a chuck of white foam topped with black leather, thirsting for blood.
The seventies weren't good to Sebastian. He was becoming accustomed to his newfound state, and he killed frequently and sloppily, living a transient life. There was no work for him -- everywhere he went, all around the country, people looked at him suspiciously. He was stuck inside the body of an unruly-looking teenager. The eighties were a better decade; he'd discovered a newfound mastery over himself and the curse that was slowly turning into a blessing. The newly born goth movement gave him somewhere legitmate to fit in; Sebastian's style turned to black rips and silver chains. He began to form some sense of purpose out of the senseless desperation of his living; the kills he made slowly became less and less random, and more pointed. Now when he went hitchhiking and the dirty bastard demanded a sexual favor for his troubles, he instead found himself on the side of the road with all of his blood drained out, and voila! Sebastian had a new ride. Never mind that he had no friends and no way of procuring money. He had a lifestyle nailed down, and he was killing perverts by the dozen. That was enough for him.
During the nineties, Sebastian met another vampire for the first time. A whole clan of them, to be precise. He stayed with them for a few years, learning more about himself and about his new species. Ultimately, their life wasn't for him, and he left. One vampire, one even younger than him named Leon, wanted to go with him, but at that point in Sebastian's life the thought of dragging someone along with him everywhere was unbearable. He struck out on his own again, slowly becoming more sophisticated in his killings and more apt at hiding the bodies. The two thousands were fun; Sebastian travelled around America to all his favorite cities, branching out from his usual killing methods. He stalked the perverts instead of letting them come to him -- he watched the eyes of men around playgrounds, in schoolyards, he saw the lust in the faces of men on the streets late at night, and then he followed them, cornered them, and killed them. He supposed that his parents would be proud of him; in a roundabout way, he was going the work of God.
Sebastian's wanderings soon took him back to the area where he'd been born, and he was surprised to find that a new city had sprung up in Pennsylvania. It was called Somerset, and it looked like a perfect place for a long-time transient to settle down. And by "settle down", of course, he meant that he'd run out of gas.Sample Role-play;
Sebastian loosed some very colorful curses at the gas gauge, which was slowly drawing nearer and nearer to empty. This large blue truck wasn't really his style, but it was trusty and got suprisingly good gas mileage. Besides, there was really little to chose from in the particular part of hillbilly country he'd just come from. The man who'd picked him up in it had wanted a blowjob. As if. The car still smelled of his blood, despite the fact that Sebastian had wiped down the interior rather thoroughly. He suspected that it had seeped into the floor mats.
He had pointed the failing truck toward the city that he'd caught sight of a few hours ago. Sebastian didn't remember it being there in the fifties when he had come this way with his parents, but then, a lot of things hadn't been here in the fities that were here now. His hometown, which he'd driven through at at least eighty miles an hour, even had a movie theater now. There
was progress. He snorted at the thought and prayed that the reliable old junker woud make it to the mysterious city. Sebastian didn't particularly like the idea of walking right now.
He made it to the city by nightfall, and a prime city for the night it was. The blue truck gave up the ghost a few miles in, so he let it coast over to the side of the road and got out. He gave the hood a pat before wandering off along the sidewalk, not really caring what would happen to it. They would tow it away, sell it, maybe, and the new owner would never figure out what the strange brownish stains on the floor were, or why it always had a tangy, decaying aroma. Or maybe they would just scrap it, and all the evidence of that unwashed hick of a man would be crushed out of the world with it, all his beer bottles and AA pamphlets and gum wrappers and general filth.
The lights of the city were almost blinding to Sebastian. He spent most of his time on the road, hitchhiking, driving, and so cities were always a shock, though not an unpleasant one. He liked all the people, all the thin, fragile people and their thin fragile lives on the street, all the lights and the sounds and the smells. No-one suspected you of anything in a big city; everyone wrote you off as another misfit goth running away from your farmboy origins. And maybe that's what he still was, he thought, as he tucked his hands into his pockets and navigated the sparsely populated sidewalk. Just a misfit kid still running away from Ohio and the Mormon parents who'd locked him in his room for what they thought would be forever. He rarely missed his parents, but he did now. Something about seeing all these people together made him wish that he was included somehow, part of the fold. But he wasn't, and he could never be again, unless he found a clan of vampires. And they were usually so concerned with their own that they didn't have time for him. He wished, as he often did, that he hadn't so rejected Leon, the little fledgling that had liked him so much. He would be nice to have around on nights like these.
Turning into an all-night convenience store, Sebastian browsed the curios; not the snack-cakes and the cases of beer, but the people. They all seemed normal enough, except for the man who he saw stealing glances at the pretty young cashier over the magazine he was pretending to peruse. Pervert. He moved closer to the man, smiling a pretty, though chilling, smile, and asking,
"Can I buy that for you?"