Marc Franklin
Species: Vampire
Bloodline: Nosferatu
Pronouns: He/Him
Plotter: Plotter
How to contact me:

First Impression: Since he finally learnt to mask his appearance, he'll wear his old face whenever he can. Behind it hides a gaping maw, more teeth than anything should have; deadened yellow eyes without a visible iris. A tall and stocky man in life, his Embrace has turned his size into something grotesque, his limbs bulging and twisted, overall giving the impression he's stronger than he actually is.
Year of Birth: 1975
Year of Embrace: 2010
Concept: A former school teacher and family man, his Embrace robbed him of everything he loved.
He wasn't chosen by his sire. He just made the mistake of defending a hobo from a couple of vicious youngsters, getting shot in his face as a reward.
It was what they call a mercy Embrace, although one could question the definition of mercy.

Indeed, he regretted he hadn't just died. When he tried to go back to his family - to explain what had happened to him, if nothing else - he was met with nothing but revulsion. The divorce procedure was an extended ordeal; whatever they said about marriage bonds, about whether he was alive or not, that wasn't something he even bothered listening to. All that he heard was that he could not meet his two children ever again, not even dare getting close to them.

He hid. He learnt to hide better and better - that was a gift of his blood, after all. He had no way to get a regular job, so he learnt to steal what little he needed: a taste of blood from the sleeping, money to buy the cheapest bottle to get by. He had survived his death, but it was just that: mere survival. Too apathetic to even walk into the sun, he found no drive to make plans, to improve his existence in any way.

He shared his hideout - a filthy abandoned building - with other misfits, vampires too down on their luck to afford a more decent shelter for the day. They befriended each other out of despair, but eventually, talking about their mutual misfortunes was the closest thing to relief he had experienced in a long time. He did not like them, but he wouldn't let them go.

The idea of the Pit was a ridiculous one. Sure, his mates weren't all that bright, or sane, or had any sort of good taste. The last thing he desired was becoming some sort of freak show, however he didn't care enough to say no. Dragged along by his overexcited companinons, he became an essential part of the show. Freak shows can do with big bad monsters, after all.

The success of that abject project took care of their material situation, if nothing else, but, unlike his mates, Marc found no joy in it.
Since he finally learnt how to mask his appearance - a success that brought him much less satisfaction than anticipated - he has developed two different personas: the stage one is a fictional creature, with a made-up history, made-up feuds with other 'fighters'. His masked identity, on the other hand, is what he calls his real self, the one he uses to relate to other people, and that he wears back as soon as the show is over. He's still not sure what to do with said 'real self', though, other than not being a repulsive monster, and all too often he finds out people won't draw a line between his two identities, oddly considering him as one single individual.
Disciplines: Obfuscate (3) Potence (1)