and all the world's a S T A G E.

[!MOTHERSOUND!]

MALLIC NIETMAR.
Mister Music Man?

I wrote this biography in September of 2006 and it in no way reflects my current ability. D: Have mercy on me.

GENDER: __male!

RACE: __vampire!

AGE: __appears around 19!

SUBJECT TAUGHT: __every branch of musical education!

PERSONALITY:

_{like safes unsafe mainly due to ticking contents.}

What is there to say about Mallic? Well.

Everything he does is executed with an undeniable air of poise and rationality, and if he were to walk up and tell a 'yo mama' joke, it would somehow seem the most sophisticated and classy thing you'd ever heard. He values propriety and manners, and will tell you if he finds you rude. In fact, if you say 'please' and 'thank you' you can get pretty much anything from him. Despite this, his personality is 'quirky' (put lightly and kindly) and he's actually somewhat of a nutcase. Despite the amount of years he's surely accumulated, he tends to have the attention span, sense of humor and childish wonder of a six year old. His bell-chime laughter is heard often, as just about anything he hears or witnesses is absolutely *hilarious*. The words 'splendid' and 'fantastic' sprinkle his vocabulary about 80 times more than they should, and Mallic almost always refuses to be pessimistic.

Mallic has a brutal sense of beauty, and finds 'interesting' ways to end his prey when he is done with them, always stopping to admire his work, as he finds the bizarre ritual killings unendingly pretty. At times, usually when he hungers, that simplistic and happy-go-lucky mind seems to disappear completely. At times like this he enjoys a good mind game, usually doing everything within his power to completely weird you out... But always wearing a smile! :D

Mallic in a nutshell: He's nuts, loves music and circuses, plays the piano and runs away from danger like a little girl.

APPEARANCE:

_{vintagely constructed to carry out thoughts of this small-scale destruction.}

Mallic, my dear friends, is the shining and wonderful epitome of class that this world has so been missing. Of average height and build, cloaked in his matching pinstripe suit and topped with an ever present top hat (of nothing but the chicest black and graced with a black bow) he has a slick and rather overdressed appearence. On his hands there is usually a pair of black leather gloves, and in them is generally the brass handle of his cane, which he has no real need for. Etherally pale as is the way of his kind, he has brown/black locks of stringy, and somewhat wavy hair which is, of course, constantly brushed back in the cleanest of ways. There is an overbearing aura about him; with his erry air of charisma, Mallic has the visible demeanor of a massive onrushing machine-- you could either climb on or jump out of the way. Mallic's eyes are a clearwater blue, pale and enchanting, blending occasionally into the pallid skin that hold them in place.

His face, eternally youthful and appearing the age of the mere nineteen years he had lived before his first-person encounter with fangs, is forever pulled into a unnerving smile, a featureless mask of perpetual joy that one could only dream for-- what wouldn't you give to have a reason to be always smiling?

His manner of movement is inspired, zealous, yet deliberate, as if he were always quite enthused about every calculated move he made, like an oddly coordinated child at play. His voice is clear, resonant and undoubtedly capivating-- it's cadences could lull one to sleep, and his laughter comes in light, distinct peals, like the chiming of small bells. The look of gleeful madness is insistent in those pale eyes of his, and with that matching cheshire cat grin of his, looking him in the face for too long is a difficult and seldom attempted task.

After all, he is a crazyface.

HISTORY:

_{i saw this one coming, there's no use in running.}

You guessed it-- Mallic was raised by a group of circus performers.
Really.
I'm serious.

Mallic was the son of the ringmaster of the famed Nightmare Circus, a traveling show specifically formulated to scare the pants off of the audience. The show was a hit-- Sword eaters, fire breathers, people in fantastic makeup, 'dangerous' animals looking ready to maul an audience member any moment; why, there were even Lycans in there! But of course, what frightened audiences in the early 1900s would put modern audiences asleep. As the turnout to their circus thinned and thinned, and the wisest of the performers searched for other employment, it looked as if the Nightmare show was going to go down in flames. In desperation to save his father's menagerie, the only lifestyle that he'd known for almost two decades, Mallic took the responsibility of running the thing himself at the meager age of 19 years.

It is somewhere around this point that he was turned, though the how, when and why are lost. If you are to ask him, he'll probably hit you with his cane and call you rude.

A traveling show was much harder to maintain than a stationary one, and the show died soon after. However, he transferred his love for music and appreciation of youthful wonder into the teaching world. He never went to school for his profession, but hey, you be the one to tell him he can't.

SPECIALITIES: __Music of course, namely the piano and violin.

WEAKNESSES: __Impatient and somewhat callous.

GRADE: all of them.

ROLEPLAYER: SOUND. Mhmm.

EXCERPT:

The haunted fairgrounds. Oh, how he wished people would stop calling it that, this place was about as haunted as Abercrombie and Fitch. The only thing that ghosted around here was was a raccoon (which Mallic actually did find somewhat frightening) that rummaged through trash cans and rather smelled of goat. Well, he supposed, that was just as bad as any phantom.

Have you ever smelled a goat? Augh.

His pace was slow, accentuated by the intermittent click of the brass end of his telltale cane tapping the slowly crumbling concrete beneath him. No one really knew why he carried the thing, he didn't have to use it, never did, and being a vampire probably never would, but hey-- don't question the Circusman, alright? Aligning the brim of his top hat (of a chic black) with one gloved hand, he strolled among the buildings of the old fairground (all in varying states of decay) passing the peeling faces of ever-grinning wooden clowns, under the politely flourishing remnants of tattered banners with the haughty assurance of one who strolled through the rich gardens of some aristocrat's private party. Mallic had that ability just about anywhere, you see.

He hummed a jovial tune beneath his unnecessary breath, perpetually glittering eyes half lidded with the pleasure of a good morning. Well, good morning for a Vampire. Venom's Gate's ever-present cloud cover was ungodly thick on this hazy morning, blocking the sparse fingers of sunlight that the desolate city ever got from view entirely. Hence, Mallic walked freely.

His eyes caught movement up ahead. A stranger walking all alone? Here? The stories that cloaked this place were enough to keep most away (a blessing and a curse) and the sight of another being was almost a foreign one. There was something unfamiliar about that young face, he decided as he crept ever closer, his cane held carefully from the ground so as not to make a noise... many years as a vampire had made Mallic quiet as a cold wind when he tried. The ringmaster paused, watched Kane move through the empty shell of a carnival as a sick smile slowly twisted his features. That was the boy! Oh, how long ago had it been since he had seen him sitting under the the comforting reach of the fruit tree with sunset coloring his features? Mallic was responsible for turning a great deal of humans in the name of the King and Queen in order to build the size of his race's forces, but he remembered every face easily. And he remembered this boy, he had been the first.

Silent, he trailed in Kaneku's footsteps, moving quickly and with a stealth that on him looked almost comical. Gently (but with a grip as ungiving as iron could ever hope to be) he embraced the form of Kane from behind, cold breath expelled on the smaller vampire as he gave a throaty chuckle. "Kaneku," He said quietly with that glassy voice of his, smiling at nothing in particular.

[i n k]

Accepted.

As if I had any other choice.

SCHEDULE:
All muisc.

All the time.