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AMITYVILLE ACADEMY ENROLLMENT FORM

Name: Malkav the Mad
Nicknames: Mal, Mad
Gender: Male
Age: Looks around 17, he can't remember how old he was before. He's only been a vampire for one year though.

Faction/Race Undead: Vampire

Personality: Mal is prone to random mood swings, ranging anywhere from happiness to extreme rage. It's really random and there's no telling what would trigger which mood. His mind is broken, fragmented into so many pieces that he's a psychologist's dream. Sometimes, he won't even remember what had transpired even if it happened only moments before.

He babbles. He mumbles. He will stare at things that aren't there or aren't real. He'll have conversations with inanimate objects and truly believes they are speaking back to him. Sometimes, he has trouble discerning if something is real or a figment of his imagination, such as a student or professor. However, he'll happily chat with the 'figment' as if it were real (even though it IS real).

He has an obsession with human fairy tales and nursery rhymes and will often speak of them in references. He can also go into fits of speaking in rhyme, something that some may find obnoxious. Of course, they are not your typical rhymes or stories. He always changes them. If you ever ask him why, he'll tell you that they were broken and he fixed them. That's what he does. He is a fixer. If he finds you to be broken.. he may try to fix you. It can be as simple as your hair and he'll try to get a hold of it to style it. It could be your nose and there's only one solution for that. Please do not trust him around sharp objects. >.>

Hell, don't trust him at all.

He wears a straitjacket almost all the time. Sometimes it's tied behind him, sometimes it's loose. It helps keep him in check, prevents him from 'fixing' other students or getting into too much trouble.

Despite his mood swings, it's hard not to like him. He can come off almost childlike in his ramblings at times, an innocent dying for the thirst of knowledge, awareness. Learning everything as if it was a new experience for him and oftentimes, it is. His memories of his human life comes in flashes and like anything else, it's hard for him to know if any of it is real. He has only been a vampire for a year, a baby among them. As such, it's harder for him to control his hunger and he always keeps a couple vials of blood tied around his waist.. just in case.

He desperately wants to go to Amityville. It's a great school. The fence had told him so and fences never lie. He also wants to go to get closer to Hellma. Every time he thought of her, goosebumps would appear. He really didn't like geese but they always flew away and the feeling it left behind was nice.

Why are they enrolled in Amityville Academy? Where else should a baby vampire go to learn the ropes? He has no parents. His sire disappeared after changing him. He has nothing but the company of his make-believe friends. And he really wants to get closer to Hellma.

Natural Ability: Malkav can shapeshift into a flock of bats to travel. Sometimes one or two of them may get lost or hit a tree and die.

FEAR: "Figments" These are physically harmless illusions, though not real, they could be terrifying. Most come in the form of twisted fairy tales or nursery rhymes. He could mention Little Red Riding Hood and suddenly there's a big bad wolf looming over you. Or Little Miss Muffet and the next thing you know, there's a horde of spiders heading your way. Never real but usually scary.

His mind is unstable so these illusions can backfire. A spider might appear but instead, it could be pink and wearing a clown wig or it may be upside down, dead and useless. You could end up facing a wolf puppy instead of the big bad wolf. There's no telling what his imagination will spring forth.

OOC: I would be determining his illusions based on a 50/50 chance with a 1d4 die. 1 and 2 = backfire. 3 and 4 = success.

Physical Description: He is a sexy boy (sexxxxy booooy), he's not your boy toy (booooy tooooy) . Mal is your typical 17 year old. Cute, muscled but not overly so. He will often stitch his mouth shut but it never lasts.
Eye Colour: One is red, the other white, like it was blinded.
Hair Colour/Style: His hair is white and long. Half of it is dipped in black ink, the other half in red ink -- or could it be bloooooood?
Skin Colour: White, almost a marble pure white but HE DOES NOT SPARKLE OKAY?
Clothing Style/Colours: He wears black jeans, a white blood stained straitjacket that can show signs of wear and tear. Arms can be tied around him or left down to hang loose or dragging on the ground. If dragging, can tips of the sleeves be stained in blood also? He wears a couple blood vials tied around his waist or tucked into his belt when he remembers and of course, he wears blood soaked bunny slippers.

About Malkav:

Mal knows little about his previous life, his human life. The only thing he can seem to really recall are stories that had been read to him. Fairy tales and nursery rhymes though sometimes he couldn't remember quite how they ended so had to fill in the blanks. So I thought I'd add a little blurb here about how he came to be, so that we can at least know:

In truth, he was once a boy named Asher Scott. He was into skateboarding and was an adrenaline junkie. He often attempted stunts many were afraid of and of course, that is what lead him to his fate. One night at a skate park, a trick went awry and he landed on his back. His spine had twisted and snapped and he was left paralyzed from the waist down. If he had survived, he would have been confined to a wheelchair.

As luck, or unluck would have it, he had an admirer. She called herself Rose and indeed that is what she was. She was beautiful and appeared delicate but she was not without her defenses, her "thorns". She would often sneak most nights and watch Asher skate. He was so alive, something she was not. He was so passionate about his interests, something she was not. She had become obsessed with watching him as doing so made her feel almost alive.

How could she leave him there? Her favorite toy though he did not know it. So broken, so fragile.

For at least a week, Asher was kept as her private food bank in a makeshift room below the city -- in the sewers. He couldn't move, he couldn't even crawl away and no one could hear his screams. She fed from him every night. It was a game for her. One night she would feed from his neck or chest, where he could feel it and it burned. It was worse on the nights that she'd bite him on the waist or legs. He couldn't feel that and you would think it'd make it easier but it didn't. He could hear the sound of her lapping away at his blood. The sound of her slurping away at him was enough to make his stomach churn. She'd always laugh after, she'd run her hand through his hair and snuggle up close to him, telling him stories. Fairy tales and nursery rhymes were her favorite.

He did not know where she went during the day, she had her own private sleeping area, at least that's what he assumed. In truth, he knew little about vampires except what he saw in movies. He spent his days fending off the rats that would always come to nibble at his legs. He tried not to sleep but eventually exhaustion would overcome him and he'd awake to find a group of them happily nibbling away. He shooed most away but one persisted, refusing to go as if it knew that he had difficulty moving. Without thinking, he grabbed it and bit down into it. He couldn't even swallow. He was so hungry, so thirsty but it ended up spat out onto the floor.

He thought he would die of starvation or dehydration but it was the infection and fever that came that would have finished him off. He had become crazed by the time she made her decision, on the brink of death. He was rambling incoherently and it was such a blur. She bit her own wrist and pressed it against his lips, letting the crimson liquid drip within. He couldn't resist, it was as if his body knew this would save him and he drank hungrily from what she offered.

It wasn't like the movies. The transformation wasn't quick, it wasn't romantic. In fact, she disappeared right after giving him her parting gift. He was in the sewers for another week, writhing in pain as his muscles reformed, his spine and wounds healed. The only solace he got was feeding off the rats. Payback was a b***h.

It was a great feeling, his awakening. The pain was gone and in place there was a new strength, an awareness that wasn't there before. He knew what he was, he knew what he was capable of. It was like waking up to a new world.

His mind though, it was a mess. He couldn't remember anything. He had flashes of memories but they were hazy. He remembered fairy tales, nursery rhymes. He knew someone had been with him but the only memory he had was of a black rose. Where had the talking flower gone? He couldn't even remember his name, where he had lived, who he had known.

He was filthy, soiled, smelled like death itself. He climbed out of the sewers, vowing that he would never go back. He wandered the streets of the city, stopping only to bathe in a kiddie pool he spotted in a yard. He left his clothes there and continued his journey. He would stop every so often to poke at his naked white flesh. He was so pale, it was as if he had been swallowed by the moon itself.

It was then that he looked up at the sky, at the moon. It was full and beautiful and it filled him with such peace. It smiled at him and winked. Then it whispered his name.

It was then that Malkav the Mad was truly born.

Its really good nothing I would change if I were you.Crit me back?
zouth the vampire