Augustin Zachary Carpathia

Romanian Mafia Prince

August, Auggie,

Male

20

Around 180lbs

6 foot even

Jet black

long spike

Dark brown almost black

Thin

Augustin has many scars and piercings on his body.

Augustin's mannerisms reflect more of that of a vampire than they do a human. He normally goes out at night and sleeps in the day. He has lust for blood and with sharpened teeth, he will consume blood. He loves to kill as well, and while he does hitman work or a living, he still finds an unapologetic joy in the thrill of murder for fun.

Augustin is motivated mostly by the fear of others. He loves it when people are afraid of him. He also takes great pride in his mortality and is motivated by his humanity to do crazy shit because he can.

One of Augustin's biggest flaws are his wrists. After having been badly damaged by people who were trying to kill him, the tendons and nerves in his hands and wrists have never been the same. This causes his hands to seize and cramp up, forcing him to drop things at times or be unable to even make a fist.

Other than his love for killing, Augustin has a talent for the violin. He rarely plays anymore due to the loss of this lover.

Augustin is a satanist.

Augustin works as a hitman for his father. He is one of the best there is, and because of this he is assigned cases where he has to hunt and kill other hitmen.

Augustin's favorite color is red.

Augustin's favorite food is a nice rare steak

Augustin's favorite possession is a violin he had made for Zander, but was never able to give to him. He protects the instrument with his life, and will kill anyone who dares touch it.

Knives, Augustin loves his knives.

Augustin is employed by his father as a hitman

June 6th

I was born in Transylvania, Romania under one of the most powerful mafia families in the country. Raised mainly by my father along with my older brother Gabriel, I never saw my mother, never asked to. At age seven I got my first switchblade, Gabriel already had his first gun, as he is two years older than I am. Father told me never to allow the blade to cut my skin, but always to allow it to gore my enemies relentlessly. I learned quickly what this meant, as I learned to use my blade. First on animals, pigs, chickens, those who were for slaughter. I enjoyed it, maybe too much. Gabriel always had trouble shooting and killing, but I was the one who not only killed my targets but finished off his as well. It was clear who was becoming father's favorite.

I was twelve when I killed my first human target. She was a pretty thing, a spy from Russia who was trying to get information from my family. Father caught her red handed when she was digging through his files. He told me to have fun with her, and locked the both of us in a room where he could watch through the double sided mirror. That day was the last day my father made me kill pigs, as he saw exactly how I handled humans. It was so easy, how a child with such a fascination with blood could kill one of their own. I chopped off her fingers first, her screams were beautiful. It was almost as if I had forgotten my father was there for just those few moments. He had told me to kill her, but I tortured her instead. Drawing pretty designs in her skin with the only blade I was allowed to use. By the end of her life, my hands were coated in her blood, it felt good. My taste for blood started with hers, it was too tempting not to clean the crimson elixir from my fingers with my mouth. No, my human story didn't end there, it still hasn't, but my time in the light had ended there.

My thirteenth birthday was spent in ritual, the same ritual that Gabriel had been inducted into. I was more willing of the brothers, however. A Satanist's ritual, the bathing in blood of innocence to... Darken the soul. I killed my own sacrifice, a scared, young little altar boy from the church across the street. However my ritual was never completed, as it was believed to be made for me to be immune to the creatures of the night, yet immortal. Everyone before me swore by it, said that it worked. Mine... Didn't. It was interrupted by priests breaking in and disturbing the dark magics in place, and the blood that was spilled that night was spilled in vein. However, the victim's blood was not the only blood spilled. While my family had gotten away, I had stayed, my rage towards these priests had me slashing bodies left and right. They caught me, I was outnumbered from the start, but I had been too blind to notice this. They strung me up on a makeshift crucifix, cut my wrists deep and bled me to near death in an attempt to cleanse my already darkened soul. I was found later by my father, though with my ritual incomplete, I would never know the limits to my mortality, or if the bite of a vampire or wolf would turn me to one of them. Despite this I was tainted enough to be completely engulfed within the Carpathia family, and their secrets. I guess my mother was never around because she couldn't handle this, I see that now. But it was no surprise that she had been the one who told those priests to assassinate me and my family. She was publicly executed while I was in recovery for my injuries.

As I grew older, my bloodlust did the same. By sixteen I was officially deemed a hitman for my family, and one of the most feared of the Carpathia line, even surpassing my brother. However even then my story takes a change, as on one of my hits I met someone who I could never forget. An Armenian by the name of Zander caught my eye, it was as if my entire world stopped, and my pumping blood along with it. Our eyes met and everything went still, it was a feeling that I had never felt before and it was intoxicating. When I wasn't killing I was spending time with him, and eventually we started to live together under the guise that I had hired a bodyguard to keep someone else from hunting me. That didn't stop me from my job, however. Zander didn't like it though, but I wasn't about to cut ties with the only thing I knew. It was two years later that I lost the very thing I vowed never to hurt. Zander and I got into a fight one night and I got angry. Instead of allowing him to leave like he wanted to, I blacked out. When I woke up my loved one was on the ground with thirteen stab wounds in his chest. There was no way he would have survived even if I got him to a hospital, he died in my arms.

I left Romania then, and traveled to America. I learned English, and found myself a new home and new people to work with within the two years I've been here and now I run with the vampires on the streets as well as continue to work hits for my father. I am still a mafia prince, and I will forever be under the word of my father, not like I mind much.

Augustin has a cat named Vlad.

Gabriel: He's my brother, and he's absolutely fucking insane. He stole my title as the head of my father's mob, and is the reason I am now alienated from it. Fuck Augustin.