Degare John Bentclyff
542 (Turned at 27) - Male - Magical Creature - 07/22/1473

Con-Man/Art Forger/Theif/Painter

Appearance and Personality
General Appearance: Degare was a heart-breaker in the 15th century and he still is today, with softly chiseled features and bright blue eyes, he captures the attention of many. After so many years, he’s not one to smile often, but it’s a startlingly beautiful sight when it happens. He’s prone to wearing suits, more often than not, and walks with a swagger in his step.
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual
Skills: Deception, Flirting, Picking pockets, Swords, Languages (He knows ten fluently), Painting, Stealth. (Deg would like you all to know that he is also good at doing Albright. I tried to tell him that we don't need to know that, but he wouldn't shut up about it.)
Weaknesses: One can’t expect a vampire as ancient as Degare to have many weaknesses, but he does have a select few. Sunlight, obviously, and he can’t say he misses it much if he even remembers what it felt like. Large spiders, he will scream like a little girl if he so much as sees one. Innocence; it’s an odd thing to be afraid of, but he’s honestly afraid of those who possess true innocence of soul.
Positive Personality Traits: Charming, Thick skin, Generous, Honest, Quick study, Loyal
Negative Personality Traits: Apathetic, Self-serving, Impatient, Blunt, He’s a lying liar who lies, Arrogant
Hobbies and Interests: Learning new languages, Conning his way into important affairs, Painting, Stealing, Being a total ass to everyone he meets (except Albright. Albright is bae)
Character History:

Born in the summer of 1473 to two commoners, Degare was nothing special at the time of his birth. They gave him the best they could, and he helped around the house until he was old enough to go with his father to work. One could say his father defined the term “starving artist”, as he barely made enough money to put food on their table while he painted the portraits of the wealthy for barely more than pennies apiece. Deg thought it was a crying shame, since his father was a good artist, one who painted things as he saw them and why couldn’t anyone see that?

At eleven, he went off to Hogwarts and was sorted into Hufflepuff where he flourished as an artist. He drew often; landscapes, people, anything he could think of, he drew. Every summer, when he would return home, his father would be so proud of Degare’s work and often showed it off to his friends and family. “You’ll be a master, one day,” he’d say with a grin. “You’ll make more on one painting than I ever will in my life.” And oh, didn’t that just break Deg’s heart to hear that. To hear his father think so little of his own talent.

Degare did just what his father predicted he’d do: he became a masterful painter. He made a name for himself almost as soon as he graduated Hogwarts, demanding the highest payment for his work. It was on one fateful night out that Degare stumbled down the wrong alley on his way home from the pub. He was 27. Two weeks later, he attended his own funeral. He wanted to go and comfort his parents, but he knew he would only make things worse in the future when he didn’t age. Fate was a cruel bitch.

The first decade was the worst, without another vampire to help him through the transition, Deg often woke up covered in blood with no knowledge of how it got there. It took the majority of that decade to gain control over his impulses, to tame the monsters fighting to get out. Every few years, he would move to a new town and begin anew. He continued to paint portraits and landscapes and anything he had the inspiration for, and though he didn’t make enough to be as wealthy as he might have been, he made enough to get by. As human technology progressed and word spread farther faster, he had to travel farther when he moved. Soon, he was leaving France for Russia where he managed to keep for three decades before he moved on to America.

Degare married several times, and even had a few male partners over the years, but they all eventually left. They each had their reasons, but Degare had been the one to purposely drive the wedge between them each time, for fear of the inevitable when they figured out why he never aged. He didn’t contact them after they left, and he made sure they never found him again, but they each held a place in his heart. He had loved them, after all.

It was a rude wake up for him one day when he had an elderly client for whom he was painting pass away unexpectedly. The reminder that humanity was mortal, that they all eventually died while he lived on unchanged did not sit well with him. It was unfair, he thought. He finished the painting for that client and left it for the family before fleeing to Spain. Through all his travels, he learned the language of the region, established himself as a member of the community but never made any real friends. He couldn’t bear to put himself through the pain of their death, and didn’t want to make connections only to uproot himself as if he’d never been in a few years.

In his boredom, he decided to obtain several degrees in various fields, Art History being one of them. He obtained three doctorates: Art History, Computer Sciences, and Chemistry; all at different universities under different names. His name began to travel within the criminal network. To them he was a title, a ghost that passed on his knowledge every generation, talked about in whispers filled with awe and disbelief. Many claimed to be an incarnation of him, and most of those posers were laughably mediocre in their skills compared to him.

When he was 400, he met Albright. A fellow vampire, Albright was bright and smiling where Degare was dark and cynical. But oh the pictures he inspired in Degare’s mind. Albright was a young thing by Deg’s standards, only just over 200 years old and he barely looked 20. Still, he managed to make Deg smile like he hadn’t in centuries, and it was decades down the line that Degare would realize exactly what had happened. They were married in the courthouse with two strangers off the street as witnesses and two hastily purchased boutonnieres pinned to their lapels, but they couldn’t have been happier. Conning became much easier with the two of them working at it.

He was 500 years old when he came to London, and he’d learned a good many things in the five centuries he’s been alive. He no longer painted for clients; not original work, at any rate. Instead he became an expert art forger, a con man from any country he wished. A thief. There was one memorable job where he actually had to forge one of his own paintings, and in the end he’d kept the original while simply giving a second forgery to his ‘client’. When he heard of the Black Spades beginning, he knew he would join and offer his services. Honestly, they need him.

Plots and Politics
Where does your character stand in the treatment of death eaters and their families? He doesn't give two shits about petty human squabbles. He's lived through countless wars and the current situation is nothing new. Besides, it's not like the humans care about him as long as he's not going around killing everyone he meets.

How was your character and their family affected by the reign and death of Voldemort? His parents lived centuries before Voldemort was ever born, and Degare didn't care to get in the middle of the humans' battle.

Family

Parents: John and Merida Bentclyff - Deceased
Siblings: None
Children: None (But that may change with the way Al's been pestering him)
Partner: Albright Desmond-Bentclyff - Current Husband/Muse - Vampire
Other Relevant Family: Naomi Hubbard - Wife The First - Deceased, Holly Greenwich - Second Wife - Deceased, Bently Filips - Boyfriend/Partner/Muse - Deceased, Jaqueline Miller - Third Wife - Deceased, Manny Riviera - First “Husband” - Deceased
Family History:

The Bentclyffs were commoners in the 14th and 15th century, farmers with little more to their name than the clothes on their backs. John met Merida at the market one day and they courted for a few months before they were married at the small chapel in town. They only had the one son survive past infancy, much as they mourned the loss of the other babies, they were grateful to have been given Degare. John was a hard-working man with a desire to be a great painter, but when Degare arrived he couldn’t be as demanding in his payments for fear of driving his clients away. His talent was squandered, he knew, but he had lost his chance to make a proper name for himself. He was so proud when Degare went and did what he hadn’t been able to, and devastated when his only son was killed.

Other: Degare don't care what you think about him, he knows he's fabulous.

Bekah

I play the person with the hair who works at the place, duh.

Have you read the site plot, rules, and timeline?

Yes

How did you hear about Insurrection?

I've told you once, I've told you a million times: I found this magical place on Google

Play-By:

Matt Bomer

---

Roleplay Sample

"You're such a goddamn sap, Deg," Albright sighs as he looks at the present his husband got him.
*Degare levels his best menacing glare* "If you tell anyone about this, I will bite you through the floo network."
*Albright blushes prettily* "I love you too," he replies as he puts the skull on the mantle next to the vase of flowers.

Accepted!!