// WHERE IT BEGAN // HEADCANONS // APPEARANCE // SEASON ONE //
You begged them to kiss you-they beg me to fuck them. We’re not the same.
Have you seen OCTOBER ROULETTE around Faerune? They’re a VAMPIRE who REJECTS the Unseelie Queen’s reign. People have heard they’re CHARISMATIC, LOYAL & PASSIONATE but can also be OBSESSIVE, POSSESSIVE & MALICIOUS. We’ll see where they fall when the revolution arrives, but until then they can be found working as a MEDICAL EXAMINER & HEAD VAMPIRE.
OCTOBER AT A GLANCE
Name: October Mammon Roulette Aliases: Toby, Eight, Roo, Spoiler (formerly his callsign to the Sixth) Age: 233, deceased at 36. [’Born’ October 13th ] Affiliations: Lead singer of Porphyria, Former lead guitarist of This To the Ashes, Former contractee to the Wild Sixth, Current Head Vampire of the Rex Vespidae. Occupation: Faerune’s Coroner and Head Medical Examiner Gender/Pronouns: Cis Male, He/Him Sexuality: Pansexual Homoromantic Species: Vampire (Turned Human) Common Scents: Cloves, leather, sandalwood and cedar, and an expensive, if old and likely discontinued cologne. These scents are heavy enough to cover much of the smell of ‘death’ that clings to a vampire for those with enhanced senses. His work clothes smell of preservatives, formaldehyde, and clean/sterile hospital scents, and this smell never quite washes out. Quirks: Two full tattoo sleeves- One that seems to indicate a past he doesn’t remember, the other for his friends and family inspired by animals/insects and body horror/florals. Gauged ears, piercing on the left of his nose, a single stud sunk through the center of his tongue, often worn with a simple plastic spacer to prevent knocking into his fangs/fang caps and the piercing healing over again. “Dog to Heel” in latin carved into the column of his spine, covered in a blackwork tattoo and an image of icarus falling from the sun. A tattoo of a wasp with a crown over its head on his inner right wrist. Sectoral Heterochromia in his right eye, a ring of green that spiders out like cracks in a mirror or glass through the blue, making his gaze appear slightly more distant even when looking directly at something. Often wearing his gold fang caps now, covering his natural ones still fully exposed beneath. Markektable/Trade Skills: Having held his coroner position, October doesn’t have much need for a trade or barter skill, however he has taken up leathercraft again, making collars, harnesses, belts, jackets, bookbindings, and various other items for sale or trade for goods, offering his services as a mender for old leather items that may have experienced wear or damage over the years as well. Though he doesn’t tan himself, he does tend to dye many of his own colors and treat the raw pelts bought off of hunters at the markets.
AND WHAT HAS BECOME OF YOU?
Tw: Death and Violence- October’s escape from the Coven is mentioned briefly.
There’s too much riding on him for October to die now. It’s odd, he reasons, when he thinks back to the events of Founder’s Day, that they’d lead him to the present. In the Jeep on the drive home, he’d talked in hushed tones to his children- told them that this was no joke, no farce- that they were to mind their manners no matter where their opinions on Opal fell. A monarch was not a council. A monarch would not give a pass to the open dissent October had come to enjoy, the direct objection to the decisions and actions of a queen ended at the guillotine or dungeons. He would not martyr himself for petty hatred, he would not watch his kids suffer for doing the same. Shut your mouth, straighten your back, and if pressed for your opinions- lie through your fucking teeth. But dissent didn’t manifest only in angry words and cruelty spat at people floundering in their positions of power, and October would not accept peace under a banner that saw him and his kind as an infestation.
So he created a new banner that celebrated the parasites they were so often compared to.
The Rex Vespidae formed in August of 2022, Co-headed by October Roulette and Calem Aleksandre, the clan needed no council permission to display their affiliations to one another, and through word of mouth to the uncertain and troubled vampires and hybrids of the city unaffiliated to an existing clan, their numbers slowly grew. Swiftly and violently punishing any Anti-hybrid rhetoric, October made clear that any vampire in the veins of a petitioner gave them a home among the Rex Vespidae, a clan- a family to call their own. Bearing now the matching bronzed wasps at his collar, October displays proudly what he’s become: a leader to the disillusioned, a parasite with a vicious sting waiting only for something to stir his hive into a frenzy. Boasting now approximately 40 members across vampires, hybrids, feeders, and those protected beneath the clan, those within their ranks are easy to spot if one knows what to look for- a wasp tattoo, a pin, a pair of gilded fangs in mouths not built for them, or previously not exposed. Those protected bearing a caterpillar of a similar brushed metal somewhere on their person. They’ve been taught well, not to sit idly by and watch their people suffer, encouraged to deal swift, brutal corrections to those who see fit to torment those who live beneath the wasp- without a sound reason for their behavior.
Alongside a change that would guide the masses- a number of personal changes would blossom. Closer now with his daughter Jill and his son Teddy, the hybrids spending more time with October as a father than a stranger, October finds himself more comfortable being a parent- and has made moves to mend the most heavily strained relationship with Connor, offering the young officer a place in the Vespidae, should he ever want it, and the awareness that a year of therapy and improvement doesn’t undo 24 of them steeped in animosity and abandonment. Connor’s unblocked his number, at least, and October will take even that small movement toward the positive- and the awareness his oldest son is healthy and safe. Only housing Teddy still, after a brief tenure of Jill in the house as well, he voiced a small sense of displeasure about her interest and pursuit of a relationship with Wisteria Addler- but well aware that his contract with the Sixth- and his time as “Spoiler” had come to an end, he’s relaxed his hatred to a... lingering dislike. The boy seems to make her happy, after all. He bears a second, full sleeve tattoo in honor of his friends and family- Teddy, Jill, Connor, and Percy all given a place on his left arm, animals, flora, and the anatomy of the dead blended together and calling his skin home. His affiliations and his heart live now on his sleeve, and in the affairs of his heart, he burns every moment he breathes.
He supposes it’s the cross he must bear, the constant dull pain racking his body thanks to the proximity of people he cares about, no longer able to cling to coldness, he swallows the flame and lets the way it aches push him forward, and after a few months to get his head right, a regular cycle of therapy and attending to the people of the clan, he’s once more allowed himself to pursue a lingering want, kindling for the fire in his veins. a few months after Opal’s takeover, October and Percy grow all the closer, the vampire doubling his efforts, actions attempting to speak where words cannot, where words may never. Though he never speaks love- to his children, to his clan, he displays it, and this is never more prevalent as the attention he pays the young hybrid. Spending much of his free time watching movies, visiting the flower shop, or taking the boy out for lunch to catch up, if not at work, leading the Vespidae, or occupied with his children, it’s a safe bet to assume October will be found mere feet from Persephone, dressed in a fine suit and a long black coat, with contacts set in his eyes to soften a scowl he’d worn for so long. There’s a newfound maturity in a previously cruel shell, hauled to the surface alongside the need to lead- and his want to improve for the people who matter most. He won’t be a disappointment again, and he won’t lose the way he feels wanted when the young witch sees him cross the threshold of the flower shop.
But this maturity perhaps betrays something sleeping just underneath, thoughts and memories anachronistic to October’s personality called to his mind, the knowledge he was a violinist restored to him- a talent with the instrument that speaks to centuries of practice, not something fleetingly picked up on a whim in a moment of boredom. While his episodes are kinder, less sharp when they set in, they remain, and trailing behind them, the context he’s lacked for fifty long years. Fiery red hair dancing in the breeze, and then tied back as he’s laid low at her feet, several lifetimes in the thrall of pale skin and honeyed words. He knows not her name, he knows he loved her. And more than anything, he knows she’s dead. The bite of rough rope into his palms, the smell of burning flesh and blood clinging to his body, slick and sanguine as he hauls her up a tree and smokes a final cigarette as the light goes out in golden eyes. Silence and moonlight as he digs a single shallow grave, laying flowers and spitting upon it in the same breath. He remembers now the presence of another- October’s neck snapped clean, and some time later, Faerune.
With these pieces will the puzzle be solved? Will the fire threatening to swallow him whole find purchase forever, or will Icarus’ flight toward the sun finally be rewarded with soaring, instead of the burn of wax and spilling feathers as he plummets back to earth?