#uwfmintro

STATISTICS  

FULL NAME:  michel de la rue NICKNAME(S): michel’s fine AGE:  twenty-five GENDER + PRONOUNS:  cis male + he/him ORIENTATION:  bisexual ZODIAC:  sagittarius sun, libra moon BIRTHDAY: december 3rd, 1802 PLACE OF BIRTH: paris, france OCCUPATION(S):  bartender, helps with the liberation TRAITS: (+) open-minded, honest, adventurous, curious, independent  / (-) turbulent, careless, irresponsible, impulsive, dogmatic

BIOGRAPHY

the following biography page contains the following: death, grief, suicidal ideation.

read at your own risk.  

HUMAN

it was eleven years later and new york was just starting to feel like his home. michel still hated speaking english and the permanent odor was sort of annoying, but he felt like he had a purpose that wasn’t dependent on war. fatigued by the aftermath of the french revolution and disappointed in the end of napoleon’s reign, the de la rue’s left their mother country when michel was fourteen in hopes of creating something new and fresh, devoid of any monarchial rule. his family lived a fairly simple life that was dedicated to running their bakery in brooklyn.

this simple life began to feel quite exhilarating as he found himself falling more and more in love with a newly-immigrated family friend at twenty. ever since meeting colette lyon (which of course was at the bakery — where else) he couldn’t think of anything else. the two remained inseparable into their marriage, too, where the two decided to momentarily elope to the beach despite his parents’ wishes. both colette and michel had a fascination with the sea, perhaps symbolizing the voyage that connected their childhood with their newfound adulthood. this fixation grew as he decided to leave his  family in favor of becoming a fisherman running his own shop at the local fish market (also against his parents’ wishes). and as their family grew to include two children, he believes it truly was the best financial decision he’s ever made (which he was well-aware there weren’t many).

but honestly, michel’s favorite thing about new york had to be the selection of taverns. the routine of waking up early, going out to fish, spending his entire day trying to sell his catches at the market, and coming home to two rowdy toddlers proved to exhaust the brunette both physically and emotionally by the time he was twenty-four. so, it wasn’t a surprise to often see him spending most of his evenings during the week at the local bar, making several short-term friends who also wanted to make the most of their night. however one night felt different as michel became what was most likely the most intoxicated he has ever been with a room with equally intoxicated men who decided that receiving fists hurt good and fighting felt fun. he was too drunk to process the chilled air (perhaps that hurt good, too), but something felt wrong as the men continued beating on him. leaving him bleeding out in the early winter air, it very quickly dawned on him that there would be no more life for him to live. no more colette. or his family and their quaint bakery. never see his children get married. as he made peace with this reality, in his last moments he thought about the sea.

VAMPIRE

everything felt bright and intense as he gasped his first breath of immortality. focusing his attention on how fast his senses were heightening and the excruciating bloodlust, it took a moment for him to realize his bougie surroundings. confused, capricious, and super fucking hungry, aleksander was there to guide him into this new underground world.

which honestly terrified the fuck out of michel. as his senses began to settle, his heart sank to his feet thinking about his death — the stupidity, carelessness and impulsivity causing an eternal separation to the life he worked hard to achieve. he grew depressed and the intense bloodlust that he wasn’t able to get a grasp on wasn’t doing much to uplift him. he depended on the older vampire emotionally as transitioning into a life completely vacant of his family was very challenging as he witnessed the rest of their lives at a distance. this often resulted in michel coming to him, very depressed as he questioned his vampirism, with aleksander always finding a way to lift his spirits and remind him of his purpose. because he saw it in michel that night before he died at the tavern. he saw the charm and how he could make anyone in the room feel like his best friend. he knew that once this cloudiness of despair and self-loathing blows over that a magnetic charisma would lie underneath. something he can use.

so, aleksander stayed beside him. reassured him. and ultimately invited him into his home to live as he would adopt him as a son, passing down his millennia of knowledge on to him and sowing seeds that he hoped to one day reap. luckily, the stages of grief passed away quickly throughout the coming months as michel realized the potential in this unfortunate situation. firstly, he has never seen so much opulence in his life. he heard stories of it, though mostly negative ones as they were all passed down from the french revolution, but now this was able to be his reality. and he was pretty fond of his newfound speed and strength. now at least it was guaranteed he wouldn’t die from another drunken bar fight.

but as he was increasingly noticing the positives of living in the mansion, the negatives began to bother him. or as others call them: helena. you see, with his human siblings, he didn’t have the problem of trust as they all grew up together and shared blood. but it wasn’t long after moving in that michel realized just how necessary the blood relation would be and how significant the corvinus name is in their world. and perhaps another large part of the problem was they didn’t truly see him as a sibling at all. truthfully, the condescension stung at the beginning and resulted in michel spending most days keeping to himself and reading the literature that occupied the walls.

as decades passed and michel was sure colette and the kids had most likely passed too, he found himself integrating back into human society by the end of the nineteenth century. which he surprisingly felt more relieved than disheartened by, as he’d finally be able to get more separation from his older sibling, but perhaps it could also be one of the signs of vampire cynicism creeping in. because, oh boy, did it creep in. the first couple decades of the twentieth century were probably most notably some of the sloppiest years michel had. he began transitioning from blood bags (the mansion always had them on deck) to feeding directly from humans and while he knew never to bite the neck, he felt it hard to resist biting elsewhere. and found it hard to resist in general, often accidentally killing a few people in the process.

however, once magdelena was born, he found himself becoming interested in the family again and decided to clean up his careless feeding act. as she grew older, he became quite fond of her presence and protective, because she sort of reminded him of his own son and daughter who he had left behind. in a way, it felt very cathartic to (practically) raise her; like he was writing a wrong and filling the void that the act of no longer being a father created. being there for her and caring for her gave him a purpose that he lacked up until that point (which probably explains his tendency to overfeed). he came around the house more, helping her as she developed into her vampirism and taught her all the things aleksander had taught him. minus the shitty values. when he would pop back into society, he spent it educating himself on new ideas and theories that inhabited both human and supernatural spheres, mostly out of curiosity and his love for learning if anything. during this time, he also eventually met others of his vampire kind as well as lycans, though more clandestine. many of which soon became his closest friends.

He was loved as a child. His family had been everything to him. The younger of a pair of twins, Lutwick found that he had everything he could ever want. His family was warm and loving, he had everything he could ever want. He knew that his brother was the one who would really succeed their father, the one who would take over and expand the family’s wealth and influence, but it had never bothered the young heir. Lutwick knew that he was better taking the second seat, to support his brother in any way that he could. They were twins, two halves of one whole, and with that made them the perfect team.

Tragedy though came just after their twenty-fourth birthday, like a thief in the middle of the night. All he could remember was the screams and the blood. It was chaos and as he jumped out of bed Lutwick came face to face with the creature that would decide the rest of his life. It looks almost human but there wasn’t anything human about the beast-like eyes and teeth dripping with blood as their gazes locked. He had grabbed the sword he had always kept beside, trembling as he raised it infront of him, praying that his brother could get away from whatever this creature was.

The pain is what came next. Lutwick barely remembered the way the creature threw him aside. The searing pain as something clamped down over his upper arm. He didn’t remember being tossed around like a rag doll. He never saw the devastated face of his twin brother as the creature left him for dead on the floor of their bedroom. Lutwick would never forgive himself for how quickly he was taken down. Having always prided himself on being prepared for anything, only to be taken down by a surprise wild animal attack in the middle of the night.

Only that wasn’t the end of Lutwick’s story.

When he came to he found himself bandaged and dressed in a stranger’s clothing. He could barely move and he wasn’t sure that he could actually feel his arm or he was imagining the limb. The tent he was in was small, dark, and he could barely make out the murmur of voices just outside. He could barely focus on them though, his thoughts plagued with worry as his memories started coming back to him. What had happened? What of his family? Of Liudolf?

The person who came in to check on him avoided all of Lutwick’s questions. He wasn’t sure if it was because they didn’t understand, their own words were foreign to his ears, or if they were just ignoring him. It wasn’t until later that day he was finally told what had happened. He was inconsolable, his entire life had been ripped away from him because his family happened to get caught in the middle.

The lycans who had saved him explained that he was now one of them as well. The news didn’t sit well with Lutwick at first, but then he could feel the wolf inside of him. Lurking just under the surface, seemingly pushing him whenever he would get upset or angry. It took him some time but finally he was able to control the wolf, embrace the way he ran hot just beneath the surface. He trained harder than he ever had when he had been human. Learning everything that he could. He refused to be caught off guard again.

As he trained he found himself more and more disgusted with the state of his new world. Vampire ruled everything, treating Lycans as the lowest of the low. Many lycans that he knew felt there was no other choice. They needed to be submissive or they would be killed. Made an example of.

He’d never been the type to just sit on the sidelines though. And so, he trained even harder, fought in every war that came around between them and the vampires. He wasn’t going to rest until those bloodsuckers were evicted from their self-made throne.