#barnabas.

darius cromwell , also known as the silver owl , is an acting hero within the bulletproof universe ( the universe that encompasses jezebel and my other oc im currently inactive on ). he and jezebel met during one of her escapades , engaging in combat when she became keen on knowing if she could beat him. spoiler : there was no winner. they were fairly evenly matched , with him having experience on her in comparison to her having raw power on him. regardless , she came to admire him after that and thusly , stuck around. she became very close to him and his daughter , tina , otherwise known as the titanium turtle.

upon learning more about the convent , darius offered his assistance in taking it down and killing birke moreau. upon execution of the operation , they discovered birke's new pet project --- a clone of darius named barnabas , son of consolation. birke had been working on cloning for a long time by this point , taking the project onto overdrive after the disappearance of his most prized assassin. jezebel took barnabas down , with intention to kill , but was stopped by darius. barnabas was knocked unconscious and taken home with them at the end of the mission , darius intending to raise the boy.

it wasn't long after the take down of the convent that artemiy died and jezebel went rogue. seymour and darius took it upon themselves to track her down , telling unit 002 to stay behind as jezebel was now a lethal threat. naturally , they did not listen. jezebel was their friend and they weren't gonna sit idly by when they could do something. their search ran parallel to seymour and darius' and they managed to find her only a short time before seymour and darius could. in the end , it was actually wren that talked jezebel into coming home. this also takes place far after wren saved jezebel's life and went through her own development on learning how to become a person. barnabas was her talking point --- he needed jezebel , just as jezebel had needed artemiy. barnabas needed someone who understood him and his suffering. he needed her , his sister , to be his lifeline to humanity. and jezebel couldn't argue with that.

barnabas collins is a formidable presence in any room, but in an art gallery, with his jewels and his fine clothing, he is drawing a great deal more attention than normal. ( on an average day, barnabas couldn’t have that, but he won’t be here long. no one will find him suspicious after a day of knowing him. not with his charm. ) he smiles suavely as he approaches the man the museum curator had identified as the featured artist.  “mr. dunham.” the man’s smile is somehow disarming and dangerous at the same time as he extends his hand to the other for a shake. “excellent work. i’m very impressed by your style -- do you accept commissions?”

@insanislupus said: "i’ve already eaten too many secrets."

the elder vampire hums in acknowledgement, pondering her musing with the utmost academia ( as if pouring over a poem, deciphering its meaning ). he can, he supposes, understand what she means. those vampires who killed for their blood must feel a sort of paranoid shame walking around with all those lies, hiding all those skeletons in their closets. ( good thing he kept all of his blood bags alive. )

"and what do you suppose you've learned from them all?" he asks curiously, lifting his chin like a professor proposing a challenging question.

though his home called for him, barnabas collins knew in his cold, unbeating heart that the time wasn't right to return. collinsport needed time to recover. but.. he craved a small town atmosphere and the drama, the contained chaos of bringing horror to a quiet place. mystic falls sounded quaint, but he was quickly beginning to suspect he wasn't the only horror this town was harboring, there was a familiar thickness in the air, an anticipation of tragedy.

at the town's local dive the mystic grill, he sips a glass of red wine at the bar, scoping out the residents and finally, identifying a person of interest. a blonde, pretty, but mean, you could see it in the set of her face. she would certainly betray the true nature of this town in a matter of minutes, presuming she was local. he asks that a drink be brought to her and he waits at the bar to be acknowledged, lifting his glass with a ring-adorned hand as he is, then beckoning her with a twitch of two fingers on his opposite hand trying his meager best to appear warm and approachable.

i’m trying to help, and you are being a bitch. ( hahaha from julia @ barnabas ) ( @hellspath / goodbye, vitamin starters. )

“a bitch?” the vampire repeats. this dignified, confident and commanding man has never been so disrespected in his life. ( this woman -- this doctor -- was becoming something of a nightmare to deal with. ) if she didn’t represent his only chance to restore his humanity, he would kill her in a heartbeat. but here he stands, at this horrid woman’s sadistic mercy. 

anger tightens barnabas’ strong jaw, his fists flex, the metal of his ring digs deep into his flesh as he closes his grip to focus his rage. “me?” the one word is incredulous. he grips tight to the handle of his cane, impulsively letting his hand slip down the wood so he can swing the heavy metal head at the woman before him, purposely swinging too high to hit her in the head before skillfully spinning it in his hand, grabbing it near the tip, swinging on her again and making loud, brutal contact with the back of julia’s knees, knocking her off her feet. he takes the cane back in his hand and spins it to hold it properly with a smug hint of a smile in the corner of his lips as she goes down. “i’ll remind you who's really in control here, dr. hoffman -- you are working for me.”