August 17, 1473
Lives in
New York, NY
Significant other
rather not tell

Last Active: Jul 14 2018, 01:50 AM
Absolute power corrupts absolutely.

Born into a line of nobility since disowned, I learned, and learned swiftly the importance of living on principle. Seeing as I've been alive for just over half of a millennium, these foundations of my morals and decision making have had some radical changes in tide. Perhaps the most important of my memories highlight the keystones of development and exemplify the whole of what I am now.

Prince Richard was my first title. My brother was to be king, you see, and so my world spun neatly in orbit around his coronation. Losing parental figures was only the beginning of the revolution around his sun. And though we had the best of times together, mostly enjoying childhood in secrecy for fear of breaking the codes binding our family, we also had much to pay by way of sacrifice. It was all about the good of the country, wooden swords and knighthood could wait. I'm sure if you're one that knows much of British history, you've heard about the boys of the tower. Our story is theirs, if the right version was that which you’ve heard.

That summer was one of tug of war, my brother taken from me weeks before I knew where he was. All I care to disclose about that time was darkness and loud, indiscernible sounds overwhelming my eardrums. We learned through guards that power had spread into dangerous hands. The climate was turbulent at best; imagine the increase in volatility that commenced at first rumor of magic. The men and women that intervened on our behalf became the most valiant of heroes I'd ever known. Fleeing persecution had bound them together. They valued the careful use of power, not abusing one’s position. My time with them shaped and molded my skills in ways which educational institutions would have proven impractical, which was just as well; they never would have sent us there.

All was well again, a sliver of peace and light illuminated our stories until the day my brother doubted my love for him. Made a creature rather than man by a single sip of a cocktail, kept ‘alive’ by my own pulse, my brother’s life was never again simple. The loss of innocent life was more than one could bear. We were running now, escaping that which neither of us cared much to face. Leaving the coven behind, deciding to go out on our own, had been challenging at best. There was a crippling and unspoken fear consuming us both from the core outward. Always, we’d endured the pain and fear of our spotlight positions until that very moment together. But where would we stand with him impacted by immortality and I limited by threat of death?

A confrontation in a less than public location swelled into stalemate. Neither of our stubborn selves would concede so much as an inch. I was tired of living locked in the shadow of someone else, but given choices of where to place my loyalty I’d have to choose his side, regardless of the adversary. I awoke from death that chilled eve at the age of 32, thirsting as I’d never imagined possible. I was a vampire, bitten by my only confidant, my brother. The hurt was overshadowed by a burning hunger that was not sated by anything except the taste of almost voluntary blood. They’d offered it as a joke; a game. Gratitude and anxiety both flooded me as I managed somehow not to take any of their lives.

The hurt flooded back after feeding, a pain I could neither have prepared for or masked with any amount of shots, which I tried in earnest by taking all of my brothers. Cold irony it was, as II’d been drinking Jakobi’s blood late at night when he’d slept as if sedated. His lack of trust, our lack of home, had me on edge. To be proven correct, to die at the hands of the one I still place above all was a lesson learned.

It took centuries of power play for my brother and I to have come to the position in which we stand. Our current alignment is against a concentration of power which conducts the world’s magical theatre. There is little hope that such power can endure without a bright burnout or imploding in upon itself. We’ve seen it with other seemingly genius theories, the culmination of which resulted in each of the major nation’s histories. The most memorable of these events include the Glorious and Russian revolutions.

Always, I’d put my allegiance, my all, into a cause which took power out of corrupt and savage hands. Always, I’d championed for the people. And always, I was let down by an imbalance of power. I do not care to stand where I can be thrashed about by these motions again. I’ll now gladly switch to the side which seems most just. Voldemort went terribly wrong, but so did several of the movements against him. The power sickened us all, weakened us. It was never meant to be sustained, as the current state of the wizarding world demonstrates. When is enough finally enough?

We choose our business dealings very carefully, determining exactly who knows about the transactions below our showroom. The distribution of the almost artisanal dust is often agreed upon after careful consideration of the influence of the customer.We understand that our supplies come from a trusted source, one of very few for us. A gallery showing or classy tasting helps us test the waters. Trust does not come easily; perception, debate, and persuasion color our every move even within the group we swear not to speak much of. My loyalty lies only with my brother now, proof that scars teach lessons time cannot rescind.The map of my trust hardly even borders Purium.
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