HIS NAME'S TATUN!

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`` LABEL 'EM
the papers show Tatun Lawrence Kelick
but I answer to Whitey, Sour-patch Kid, and Tatters
been taking up space for 422 years
although I look about 11
slaving away as a Nothing.
could practically impersonate No one in particular.

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`` PLAN 'EM
the weather's pretty good at 4’10
the scale clocks in with 82
tats and tags? None
just visualize this, A small, almost doll like, child with pale skin, bearing a pair of wide blue eyes. Hair of pure white sweeps his face in the front and, in the back, it is spiked like towers reaching up toward the sky.

He usually wears long baggy pants which flare outward at the bottom along with obviously over-sized shirts featuring a wide collar and sleeves which tend to flow past his hands. His only nightceepres consist of an onyx choaker worn around his neck, and two matching ankel braclets.
but don't call me normal! His white hair and creepy blue eyes, not to mention his weird mannerisms.

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`` SKETCH 'EM
oh, I love sugar (he doesn’t taste it, he likes the texture), anything sour, studying ancient history (of humans and vampires), and watching nature progress.
ew, I loath mean people, human vanity, the blood of large creatures (including humans), and being called short.
I kick ass at snowball fights, growing plants, and just about anything involving speed (baseball, swimming, running around in circles for no apparent reason, etc.)
I kinda suck at acting, telling lies, and spending money.
I strive to learn all there is to know in the universe… and to build a house surrounded by man eating plants so he can study in peace.
I can't stand elderly people, brick walls, and conceided people.
I'm kinda weird, 'cause He likes running in circles, he chatters his teeth after feeding, he jumps high and lands in the snow just to see it fall again, he likes sleeping underground but likes playing on the roof tops.
this is me. He’s very refined and well mannered most of the time but when he gets hyper or excited he tends to do really weird things (the stuff above, mostly).

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`` COLOR 'EM
I roll bisexual...
I adore kind hearted, romantic, cool/outgoing types of people. To him an attractive guy is masculine and brawny.
I despise people who are rude, cruel, or know-it-alls. Scrawny guys and slutty girls.
maybe it's love? none right now.
maybe it's not never really gone there.
oh well, I'll kill 'em later. Over the many years he has discovered his ability to manipulate energy. This power allows him to absorb it, and by moving it to various places in his body, give him even greater strength or speed then even some of the more powerful vampires. In contrast, he can decrease the amount of energy in the air allowing him to create ice out of “thin air”, or by increasing the amount of energy in the air he can make flammable material spontaneously combust.

Due to the Law of Conservation of Energy whatever he does to the energy it must pass through his own body at some point. So, if he decreases the amount of energy in the air, he has to absorb it into his body, which can give him an energy high. In human terms, he gets hyper. If he wants to increase the amount of energy, the energy has to come from his body, so afterwards he is left tired. He can use this ability on just about any material. He can turn solids into liquids and he can turn liquids into solids or gasses. Changing the state of an item more than one stage can cause him to get extremely weak or build up too much energy to the point where he can't control it.

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`` SHADE 'EM
I came from A rich aristocrat and the queens’ seamstress.
and so did No one else.
I've had the blood of A small Kingdom, called Lethria.
this is who I was Lawrence was born in Lethria, which had a very separated upper and middle class. To protect the upper class families from the plague, the Prince invited them to stay at his castle until the plague was over. During this time the prince threw a wonderful ball at which an intruder killed the party goers. The invader was a vampire which turned Lawrence into a vampire leaving him to deal with the death of his parents and the hardships of the transformation. Lawrence feels that the only reason he was spared was for his love and want of knowledge. Although he hated the site of blood, he was found by a local vampire whilst attempting to feed on a young lady which he had knocked out. The vampire took him to Silverdown were he wandered in the snow only drinking the imported blood on his weekly returns to the town. Otherwise he only drank the blood of rabbits, foxes, or anything else he could find in the arctic wilderness. After finding and excavating an abandoned fox hole which he filled with nothing but books and feathers, he discovered his ability to effect energy after he, without thinking, tried to warm himself up and and accidently lit the feathers on fire enstead.

this is who I am These days I spend my time studying so I may discover life’s greatest mystery for myself. It has been hard finding a place to study where I’m not interrupted, so I made my Sanctum Libras in Silverdown, an underground library were I study and train my abilities. I have become interested in studying life as part of my goal, so I moved to Forks were I will study wildlife. I don’t expect to make many friends, seeing as how im not normal AT ALL, but who knows, they say thiers someone out there for everyone.

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`` INK 'EM
so don't mess with me. The "Red Death" had long devastated the country. No pestilence had ever been so fatal, or so hideous. Blood was its avatar and its seal... the redness and the horror of blood. But Prince Prospero, lord of the land, was happy, dauntless and sagacious. He summoned to his presence a thousand of his light-hearted friends from among his court, two of which were my parents. With his guests gathered, he retired to the deep seclusion of one of his castellated abbeys. It was an extensive and magnificent structure, the creation of the prince's own eccentric yet pristine taste. A strong and lofty wall closed it in. This wall had gates of iron topped with rusted copper crosses. The gates were welded shut to insure absolute protection from the lands spreading sickness. The external world could take care of itself. In the meantime, it was a dogmatic thing to grieve, or to think. The prince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were buffoons, there were ballet-dancers, there were musicians, there was beauty, there was wine. All these and security laid within. Without the walls, there was "Red Death".

It was toward the close of the fifth or sixth year of our seclusion within the Princes’ luxurious domain, and while the pestilence raged most furiously outside, Prince Prospero decided to entertain his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most unusual magnificence. It was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But first let me tell of the rooms in which it was held. There were seven, all in a stretched linear series. The windows were of stained glass whose color varied to match with the hue of the decorations of each chamber. At the eastern extremity the room was blue with vividly blue windows. The second chamber was purple. The third was green, and so were the windows which adorned it. The fourth was furnished with orange, the fifth with white, and the sixth with violet. The seventh room was darkly shrouded in black velvet tapestries that hung all over the ceiling and down the walls, falling in heavy folds upon a carpet of the same material and color. But in this chamber only, the color of the windows failed to match with the decorations. The panes here were scarlet—a deep blood color. It was in this apartment, also, that there stood against the western wall, a gigantic clock of ebony wood. Its pendulum swung to and fro with a dull, heavy, monotonous clang. And when the hour was stricken, there came from the lungs of the clock a sound which was loud and deep and exceedingly musical, but of so strange a note that at each hour the musicians of the orchestra would pause while the party migrated to the next room. But, in spite of these things, it was a gay and magnificent party.

Finally, the sounding of midnight upon the clock; and then, the music ceased. There were many individuals in the crowd who had become aware of the presence of a masked figure. The rumor of this new presence spread itself around, the whole company a buzz, expressing question and surprise. Then, the mood turned to that of terror, of horror, and of disgust. The whole company seemed to feel that in the costume and movement of the stranger neither life nor death existed. The figure was tall and gaunt, and covered from head to foot in the cloak of the grave. The mask which concealed the face was made to resemble that of a stiffened corpse. When the eyes of Prince Prospero fell upon this man’s image he let out a strong shudder either of terror or distaste, and I could see from my chair in the emerald green room, how his face reddened with rage. I remember his words clearly, "Who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and unmask him so that we may know whom we have to hang at sunrise!" My mother held me tight at this. It was in the Eastern blue chamber in which Prince Prospero stood as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven rooms loudly and clearly with anger. It was then, that the Prince, maddening with fury and the shame of his own momentary cowardice, ran through the six chambers toward the masked figure at the other side of the hall. He drew a dagger, and approached, to within three or four feet of the retreating figure, having reached the extremity of the velvet room. He then turned suddenly and confronted his enemy. There was a sharp cry and I watched as the dagger dropped, gleaming upon the carpet. Instantly afterwards, fell Prince Prospero. Everyone in the room gasped and stood in shock for what seemed like an eternity in which time I had squeezed my way through the crowd to catch a glimpse of the figure myself. The Prince’s body lay only inches from my person. Now, the men of the room began closing in on the figure seeing the masked man as a threat. A chaos broke out among the party guests. I only caught glimpses of peoples’ lifeless husks falling to the floor. In the haste, my mother had lost sight of me and was now dragging me away from the fight. My mother tucked me away under a bureau covered by a radiant, sky blue table cloth to hide me from the killer. I sat, careful not to let my legs peek out from beneath my sanctuary. I heard countless thuds that night as bodies crumpled to the floor, and the screams never seemed to stop. I heard a man beg for his life before the sound of crunching bones. Although I could see nothing beyond my blue curtain I could hear the same poor man cough up blood as he helplessly flopped to the floor that by now was covered with corpses. I pulled forth from my pocket a small book givento me by my teacher. As I read my small leather-bound book the sound of the helpless people around me began to die away...

The air was cold with the breeze of the night. I heard no more screams. ‘Safety?' I thought. I bent down to lay my head against the soft blue floor and gazed into each room surveying it inch by inch to be sure the man was gone. Time had frozen and there was no sound but the sound coming from the open window at the end of the hall. A hand darted down the back side of the bureau, while sharp claws grasped the front. The entire table lifted from around me floating up as if being pulled by some invisible force.

I scrambled to my feet and ran with fear toward the open window at the western extremity. I heard the table crash to the floor behind me, but the most prominent sound was that of my heart beats trying franticly to keep tempo with my feet. As I reached up to open the window, my hand fell into the open palm of the same pale hand. I withdrew my hand so fast that I slipped on one of the long black crumpled drapes and slunk to the floor, I fell backward into the side of the grandfather clock and felt tears well up as I gazed at a cut on my palm. The figure bowed his head and entered through the window with ease. He dropped like a feather to the floor and reached up to remove the mask. Hidden underneath was a man in his twenties with black hair that framed his face and a small neat patch of facial hair below his lower lip. At the sight of the blood running down my arm. The crimson eyes seemed to swirl like a ravaging whirlpool. A tear rolled down my cheek and hit my arm. The man’s eyes softened. As he pushed his black hair away from his face, he smirked, bearing fangs that came to a point at his lower lip. His eyes closed as he lowered and shook his head. He bent down next to me and retrieved the book that had fallen from my pocket. He opened his mouth causing the fangs to be ever more prominent, I winced. "Relax," his voice was soft and wispy in a fashion suggesting that the words were nothing more than an air leak but the voice was also deep and pwerfull, "you like to read?" I nodded my head ever so slightly at this. "I used to read, knowledge is a nice thing to have," he smirked with one side of his mouth, "but I stopped reading after I learned life’s greatest mystery". He stood releasing my book from his clawed grasp, and began to casually stride like smoke down the hall toward the door on the east corner. By the time I picked myself up and got to the opening of the hallway, he was standing at the door looking back toward me with lustful yet sulken eyes, and he left the room, never looking away from my face. An angry fire lit somewhere in my body and I ran past the corpses littering the floor. When I got to the door there was no sight of the man. "How... How could you leave me with nothing?! You kill my parents,and flaunt your wisdome... and then you just LEAVE!" The tears rolled down my face as I sank into the ground. A raven flew past and as the sunrise cast a sick copper glow over the lawn between me and the gate, a shadow rose from within my own. I felt the hand on my shoulder and heard the voice whisper in my ear, "lifes mystery is so importent and yet so depressing". there was a sharp stinging pain in my shoulder that felt ice cold... I was turned that morning after a night of death and fear and the only witness was the raven perched on the roof above the red black room.