Name: Rafferty Locke Age: 500 / Physically 36 Pronouns: He/Him Species: Vampire Faction: Albedo/The Underground Occupation: Head of Artifact and Archival Restoration at the Foular Museum Hometown: Oxford, England Sexuality: Bisexual Relationship Status: Single, allegedly
TWS: Child Neglect, Ableism, Violence, Murder, Beheading
You were born the last child of a couple on their last winter of fertility — Your mother was forty four and your father sixty, your eldest sister a woman married with two children already. You were the only son, the fourth child — One who barely survived his first winter. Despite being named your father's heir, you were sickly and quiet — Often sleeping in your mother's bed for she feared you would stop breathing in the night. Despite her worries, she was a distant woman — You did not blame her. Nor your sisters. Your father was a difficult man, and times were not easy.
You were supposed to take a liking to fighting and riding, but — Well, it was your father's fault, was it not? You were ten, coming off a flu, certainly not fit for outings. But he took you to the Queen's beheading — Anne Boleyn. A sight you were too young to see, one that broke your heart. But, after, you were fascinated with reading all about the whys, and hows. Not the career your father wished for you, but had bigger reasons to be disappointed in you.
A year after the beheading, you fell ill. Meningitis. It painfully took your hearing — And that, to your father, was worse than being a daughter. He could not public disown you, his only son, but he refused to look at you until his death years later. Adapting was difficult, but your older sister took your well-being into her own hands; her husband had passed, years ago with their children, and she saw in you something you could not see in yourself.
The silence didn't bother you, once you knew you were safe — You focused on your studies, making it to Oxford University despite the doubtful looks surrounding you. Your mother wishes you to study theology, hoped a life of a Bishop awaited you. But you were taken with medicine and anatomy, with history and mythology.
Back then you were seen as a man man, you suppose. Knowledge was limited, and people didn't dare dream. But you were a brilliant doctor — Eccentric, but brilliant. It wasn't enough to save you.
You were walking home after a night with friends when it happened — An empty alley, a shadowed figure, a knife to your stomach. You were stabbed five times and left bleeding in the dirt. It was meant to be your end, finally, after years spent in between sickness and barely-health. But you were luck, they say. You had caught her attention. You didn't know she had been fascinated with you, following your every step. Not until her blood was in your lips and her teeth in your neck — Welcoming you into eternity with a dark smile.
She taught you all you needed to know about vampirism, even allowing you to turn your sister when she fell in. You could not love her the way she wanted, and her obsession grew stifling, so after a century together, you ran away. She didn't give chase.
She knew you wanted to spend your centuries with your head in books, devouring all information you could. That's what you did — You studied archeology, languages, maps, photography. You even began going on expeditions with a fellow vampire you met in Romania — A woman who shared your passion and desire to return artifacts to their place of origin.
For the past two centuries, the two of you have done just that, and more. Your names are well respected in the communities for your studies and books. You and your partner smuggle artifacts and supernatural beings who were being hunted for years, eventually joining the Underground together.
You did not wish to settle down somewhere, but five years ago, you heard rumors of a woman in Eden Ros who sounded awfully like the sister you left behind. You found a job in the museum, a perfect cover for you and your partner, settled in a loft above a bookstore, and waited. Waited and hoped to see your sister again.
HEADCANONS:
Rafferty is an archeologist, linguist, cartographer, curator, and an archivist. He has taken the most of his immortality and studied in many universities across Europe - Though his very first was Oxford.
Strange as it may be, Rafferty’s love for history showed its head when he watched Anne Boleyn lose hers. He was ten years of age, attending the beheading with his father - A loud supporter of Henry VIII.
Rafferty is extremely energetic. He talks with his hands, his whole body, and is constantly moving.
Rafferty knows British Sign Language and American Sign Language, and is adept at lip reading. Sometimes, however, he signs too fast for humans to understand.
His hearing aids was gifted to him by a witch, made to work for his vampirism. It is enchanted so he will never lose it and it won't run out of battery. Same as his glasses, as he has lost too many glasses and hearing aids to count.
He is autistic and has ADHD. Proceed with caution.
WANTED CONNECTIONS:
Friends: He loves people! Loves talking, and getting to know people. He is a man full of whism, so be prepared for that if you befriend him - Lots of frog pictures and dinosaurs pictures sent to you.
His Sister: Raff left his sister when he ran away from his maker, and they haven't seen each other in nearly 300 years. He is in Eden Ros because of her, but if she has been here for a long time or just arrivied, is upt to the mun!
Underground buddies
His partner: If it's romantic or platonic, I'm down for anything. This woman is the dark to his sunshine, and they have a pretty good relationship. Must be POC