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Mordecai Lucien Salvatore
ignore this. :)
── Basic Info ──
First&Last
Mordecai Lucien Salvatore
Age
30s
Race
Human
Pronouns
He/Him (cis male)
Sexuality
Homosexual
Body Type
Swimmer's build, lean and fit
Height
6'6"
Skin Tone
Pale olive
Hair
Black, short-medium length, wavey, normally style back
Eyes
Carnelian
Facial hair & Scars
No body hair except eyebrows and lashes, has a thin scar around his neck and three bullet scars: left clavicle, right hip, left breast
Piercings & Tattoos
Right lobe pierced twice
Other
── Abilities ──
Skill one
WIP
Skill two
WIP
Skill three
WIP
── Personality ──
Likes
Cigarettes, strawberries, breath mints, good food, good wine, good sex
Dislikes
Claustrophobic, germaphone
Disposition
Professional bastard man
── Background ──
it all started when...
WIP
Ties to the mafia. Godfather is the don of one of the Five Families of New York. Grew up poor and desperate, is now rich and successful.
Ties to the mafia. Godfather is the don of one of the Five Families of New York. Grew up poor and desperate, is now rich and successful.
Writing sample:
“It’s good to see you at service again, Lucien.” Joshua’s voice is calm as always, serene beyond his years in appearance.
Mordecai was less pleased, not even bothering with his typical stock smile. He was examining Joshua skeptically, if not cautiously. Joshua understood his hesitation, but accepted his presence patiently. He had been inviting Mordecai to join him for years now, ever since he had discovered they shared a similar past. Despite the warnings of their peers, Joshua felt no fear toward Mordecai. He had never done anything to personally cause Joshua any worry, and inside here, at least, he was the safest he could possibly be.
Mordecai was still hesitating, but he got over it eventually to come closer, stepping away from the rows and rows of pews to join Joshua near the altar. He was cleaning up after the service, an activity that probably could have been left to a deacon or some other lower member, but Joshua was here doing it himself. Most would have found that humble, even admirable.
“Is there anything you wanted to discuss, Lucien?” Joshua asked politely, when Mordecai made no attempt at conversation himself, but continued to stare down at him. Joshua had no idea what the expression on Mordecai’s face was meant to convey. He seemed both confused and apprehensive at once. Like there was a question he needed to ask, but wanted to avoid.
“I enjoyed the service,” Mordecai said, but Joshua wasn’t so sure he meant that. “But I did want to know,” he paused again, and Joshua didn’t interrupt, “Do you really believe in Salvation? Even now? For our kind.”
“I believe every soul can be saved,” Joshua answered, his eyes softening at the question. “Especially ours. What is our purpose if not to shepherd God’s children toward the light?” Mordecai said nothing, still making that hard, thoughtful face. Joshua thought he understood. “You consort with demons,” he said quietly, but not out of fear or shame. “But you used to be Catholic, correct?”
“Do we ever stop being Catholic?” Mordecai asked back, and finally gave Joshua a smile. Teasing, knowing. Joshua chuckled, but didn’t disagree. “It’s been a while, but yes.”
“May I ask,” since they were on good enough terms to ask questions now, “Why?”
Mordecai looked at him, searching.
“What led you away from the church?” Joshua elaborated. “And what led you to trusting demons?”
It was Mordecai’s turn to laugh softly. “Trust is a strong word for it,” he admitted. “But it was… a moment of weakness, mostly.” Joshua could tell there was more, but didn’t press. Most of the time, all a person needed was a willing ear, and they would say what they needed to. “And I thought… if I’m already damned, by this… curse, whatever,” he knew Joshua disagreed, but wasn’t here to argue that tonight, “Why not? If I still have a soul, it’s been tainted enough. Might as well use what resources I have.”
Joshua frowned, sympathetic, but clearly not because he agreed. “We can always work toward forgiveness,” he said calmly. “Time is something we are blessed with. Time enough to right more wrongs than any human lifespan could achieve. To save more people than any mortal ever could.”
“To make more bastard children?” Mordecai asked suddenly, his smile fading. Joshua stared at him. “To spread our plague to more people? To rob them of the natural cycle of life and death?”
Joshua stiffened, but wasn’t intimidated. “You do not have any childer,” he began, but Mordecai cut him off.
“And you have dozens,” he said, the smile completely gone, that strange hardness back in his eyes, which were almost black in the lighting inside the church. “And hundreds or more ghouls ready to answer your beck and call.”
“I help my congregation find peace,” Joshua said, speaking slowly and deliberately, never taking his cool gray eyes away from Mordecai. He was larger and taller but Joshua was not weak, and far from a coward. “They are not an army awaiting my command.”
“Yet,” Mordecai finished for him quickly. Joshua said nothing, knowing to argue was pointless. He looked away, regardless, eyes sweeping around the church, from the rows of pews to the choir, the stained glass windows, the paintings on the ceiling above. He looked back down at Joshua, waiting for what he had truly come to say.
“You changed your name,” Mordecai pointed out. “Ma fleur? Who called you that, Joshua? The bishop? Did he call you that while you were sucking his cock, or while he was sucking yours?”
There, that pulled a look out of Joshua that was more the truth than those gentle glances and sympathetic smiles. There was some of the Beast that lived in both of them, the monster in sheep’s clothing.
Mordecai was less pleased, not even bothering with his typical stock smile. He was examining Joshua skeptically, if not cautiously. Joshua understood his hesitation, but accepted his presence patiently. He had been inviting Mordecai to join him for years now, ever since he had discovered they shared a similar past. Despite the warnings of their peers, Joshua felt no fear toward Mordecai. He had never done anything to personally cause Joshua any worry, and inside here, at least, he was the safest he could possibly be.
Mordecai was still hesitating, but he got over it eventually to come closer, stepping away from the rows and rows of pews to join Joshua near the altar. He was cleaning up after the service, an activity that probably could have been left to a deacon or some other lower member, but Joshua was here doing it himself. Most would have found that humble, even admirable.
“Is there anything you wanted to discuss, Lucien?” Joshua asked politely, when Mordecai made no attempt at conversation himself, but continued to stare down at him. Joshua had no idea what the expression on Mordecai’s face was meant to convey. He seemed both confused and apprehensive at once. Like there was a question he needed to ask, but wanted to avoid.
“I enjoyed the service,” Mordecai said, but Joshua wasn’t so sure he meant that. “But I did want to know,” he paused again, and Joshua didn’t interrupt, “Do you really believe in Salvation? Even now? For our kind.”
“I believe every soul can be saved,” Joshua answered, his eyes softening at the question. “Especially ours. What is our purpose if not to shepherd God’s children toward the light?” Mordecai said nothing, still making that hard, thoughtful face. Joshua thought he understood. “You consort with demons,” he said quietly, but not out of fear or shame. “But you used to be Catholic, correct?”
“Do we ever stop being Catholic?” Mordecai asked back, and finally gave Joshua a smile. Teasing, knowing. Joshua chuckled, but didn’t disagree. “It’s been a while, but yes.”
“May I ask,” since they were on good enough terms to ask questions now, “Why?”
Mordecai looked at him, searching.
“What led you away from the church?” Joshua elaborated. “And what led you to trusting demons?”
It was Mordecai’s turn to laugh softly. “Trust is a strong word for it,” he admitted. “But it was… a moment of weakness, mostly.” Joshua could tell there was more, but didn’t press. Most of the time, all a person needed was a willing ear, and they would say what they needed to. “And I thought… if I’m already damned, by this… curse, whatever,” he knew Joshua disagreed, but wasn’t here to argue that tonight, “Why not? If I still have a soul, it’s been tainted enough. Might as well use what resources I have.”
Joshua frowned, sympathetic, but clearly not because he agreed. “We can always work toward forgiveness,” he said calmly. “Time is something we are blessed with. Time enough to right more wrongs than any human lifespan could achieve. To save more people than any mortal ever could.”
“To make more bastard children?” Mordecai asked suddenly, his smile fading. Joshua stared at him. “To spread our plague to more people? To rob them of the natural cycle of life and death?”
Joshua stiffened, but wasn’t intimidated. “You do not have any childer,” he began, but Mordecai cut him off.
“And you have dozens,” he said, the smile completely gone, that strange hardness back in his eyes, which were almost black in the lighting inside the church. “And hundreds or more ghouls ready to answer your beck and call.”
“I help my congregation find peace,” Joshua said, speaking slowly and deliberately, never taking his cool gray eyes away from Mordecai. He was larger and taller but Joshua was not weak, and far from a coward. “They are not an army awaiting my command.”
“Yet,” Mordecai finished for him quickly. Joshua said nothing, knowing to argue was pointless. He looked away, regardless, eyes sweeping around the church, from the rows of pews to the choir, the stained glass windows, the paintings on the ceiling above. He looked back down at Joshua, waiting for what he had truly come to say.
“You changed your name,” Mordecai pointed out. “Ma fleur? Who called you that, Joshua? The bishop? Did he call you that while you were sucking his cock, or while he was sucking yours?”
There, that pulled a look out of Joshua that was more the truth than those gentle glances and sympathetic smiles. There was some of the Beast that lived in both of them, the monster in sheep’s clothing.
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