Andrew Mordekai
Emplacement: Faraday Heights 27B
Interagir avec : Katie Claire 
Andy a fait signe à Claire lorsqu'elle est entrée dans la zone commune, reconnaissant son point de vue sur la manifestation Unseelie. Il était sûr qu'il détesterait que cela arrive à 15 heures, vu que cela serait proche de la fin de son quart de travail, mais c'était l'apogée d'une protestation non violente. Eh bien...Andy espérait que c'était non-violent. Toute l'Angleterre n'était pas responsable, après tout. "Eggs serait charmant, ma chère. Je vous remercie. " Il sourit en reconnaissance et se mit à mettre la table pour les trois d'entre eux. Leur ustensiles de cuisine était simple, céramique blanche, mais il a certainement obtenu le travail fait.
Après avoir posé la table, il s'est essuyé dans sa chambre pour glisser dans ses pantalons de travail et boutonnage noir, à manches longues tristes. Sur la poitrine gauche, une petite pile brune de grains de café a été brodée, avec "Andrew" gravé en vert en dessous. Tacky, inconfortable et professionnel, frappant toutes les hautes notes du dégoût d'Andy pour la mode formelle. M. Lawrence, son patron, lui a donné le regard le plus naze quand il lui a demandé d'arracher les manches. S'il n'avait pas été blessé pour de l'argent, il l'aurait fait de toute façon juste pour baiser avec lui. Mais hélas, la vie d'un fonctionnaire a fait signe. Au moins il a pris ses douches le soir, pour soulager tout le stress de la journée, donc pas d'étapes supplémentaires à sa routine du matin.
Il a quitté sa chambre à temps pour voir Katie bourdonner son chemin hors de sa chambre, un sourire chaleureux sur son visage. "De même pour toi, le soleil." Il regarda brièvement quand elle assembla sa tasse de café... si c'était encore cela, après toutes les réparations. "Je veux descendre ce milkshake très vite, mon amour. Le trajet commence dans une heure et le trajet va être merdique dans cette neige. Mais le pain marche." Andy taquinait brièvement, passant devant Claire pour prendre des couteaux au beurre et de l'argenterie dans un panier à côté du poêle pour les trois d'entre eux.
Après les avoir placés avec des serviettes sur le comptoir, à côté des assiettes, Andy s'est rendu compte qu'ils laisseraient Claire seule. "Vous avez prévu quelque chose, Claire? Besoin qu'on te ramène quelque chose après le travail?"
Liam Woodsworth
Dhampire
Basic Information
| Name |
Elliot Liam Woodsworth
He prefers the informality of Liam
| Date of Birth |
October 19, 1992
| Gender |
Male 
| Sexuality |
Homosexual
| Occupation |
Liam works as an IT assistant at a local tech shop, mixes music as a hobby, and volunteers at a blood bank for his less savory needs. Yes, the last one is morally dubious, but he’s not going to be around long enough to actually care, now will he? On the music note, he tends to whip up tracks with heavy bass and high tempos, as he finds them euphoric...almost as euphoric as the recreational drugs that may eventually overtake his work ethic. 
| In-Depth Appearance |
”That poor boy...darling, do you eat?
”Damn my boy, have you seen a doctor? Pale as a ghost, ya are.”
Sickly. Liam is sickly. He is tall, gaunt, pale...and he isn’t even fucking sick most of the time. He blames it on his lineage, daddy was an awfully stereotypical bloodsucker. Maybe it’s the rapidly degenerating body? Maybe it’s his refusal to indulge his hemo-cravings until absolutely necessary? He doesn’t care, really. Liam’s got places to be, stunts to do, and a short life to live. This is apparent in his messy medium-long brown hair, disheveled fashion of band shirts and loose ripped denim, and a general air of “I really don’t give a fuck, come not give a fuck with me”. His brown eyes speak of a troubled past and a carefree future, of resignation and of the triumphant freedom in that revelation. Liam’s voice is soft, enticing, as though it itself realized the throat it was bound to was horribly unfitting and made a show to be better. To be a selling point.
When you’re a local pariah, ya have to have something going for ya, right?




Who Am I?
| Personality |
♦ Morbid ♦ Relaxed ♦ Indulgent ♦ Welcoming ♦

There is a comfort in knowing death is coming.
You become prepared. You enjoy every moment, every pain, every sensation that smolders on the neurons. Liam has accepted this, and he relishes it. It’s relaxing, and he exudes this calm repose around him. Those that aren’t aware of his supernatural bastard status are always laid back around him, if not worried by his random pains and sickly pallor. Those that are...well, he’s not obnoxious enough to warrant a lynch mob yet. But who knows what’ll come in the future... sure would save him pill money.
Pill money that could go towards more fun pills! Since he knows his time is short, Liam takes every chance he gets to explore the unsavory and wonderful of the world. Drugs, alcohol with dubious origins and long names, ancient rituals that cause really weird spirit trips, (he had to give a “favor” to a Witch for that one but damn was it worth it. Ever see ancient cosmic deities play limbo with a meteor belt? Liam has.), are all things he has and is willing to try. Dangerous stunts are also kinda fun, when the crippling pains aren’t hitting hard. There are no limits to what he’ll try. Of course it’s dangerous, sometimes deadly. Sometimes it’s kind of like daring Death to make its move.
Sadly, this applies to people too. He blazes through relationships and sex like it’s nothing but a carnal transaction. Maybe one day he’ll find someone that quences his cravings. Likely? Liam doesn’t think so.
But in all respects, Liam wants friends. He doesn’t want to be alone. He wants stories passed around about him after he moves on from Edgetoun. Stories about that crazy ass pale kid that did a somersault off a building after three lines of coke and a tab of acid, lived, and then ran a 500. Okay...that’s excessive and he’d probably be dead after the first part of that, but...the point is there. As such, he doesn’t want to hurt people either. The option to get that street shit from dealers was a tempting one, but that blood could come from anyone. Anything. Through...less than fun means. At least at the blood donor center, that was willingly given. No violence or pain, even if it’s stealing...he tries to take what’s in abundance, none of the important rare shit. He doesn’t deserve that.
In the end, when you have a very short time to experience life, you shouldn’t waste that life on brooding and sorrow. Get out there, live...no matter what everyone says. No matter if you’re the monster they say you are.

| Likes & Dislikes |
✔Electronic music No words. No hidden meanings. Just raw emotion. It’s delightfully primal.
✔Adrenaline rushes Ya know when you’re on a coaster and your balls just go right up in your stomach? Yeah. That’s what I like.
✔New things So much to do, so much to see, so much to- Alright, I’ll stop. Sorry.
✔Fall England’s nice in the fall. Cloudy, damp...it’s comforting.
✔A good adventure graphic novel The art, man! Plus, less words, faster reading, meaning more awesome shit for me.
✔Jaffa cakes Tiny. Portable. Orangey. They are my one true love.
✔So many drugs. Specifically acid and coke, and any eldritch shit he can get. Oh the places you will go…
✘Staying home As much as I’d like it to, my mix board doesn’t usually talk to me. Usually.
✘Those who waste what they have Almost everyone has so much left to live. So much to give to society. Why the fuck would you throw that away?
✘Sulky folks Aw, cheer up mate. Wanna grab ice cream? Fucking love ice cream.
✘Violence Come on. Talk your shit out. You start busting heads, I’ll split you the fuck up. Got it?
✘Salad. Or anything vaguely green. It's crispy fucking water. That's gross.
✘Sunny weather. Fuck you, dad.
✘Dependency. I'm a strong, independent abomination. Well...less strong, more independent. Ya get me, yeah?

| History |
The fall brought with it cool air, warm homes, a time for families to come together…
And produce an awful bastardization of life.
Liam came into the world a screamer. Like he already knew, day one out of the womb, that he was already on his way out. He got all of his screaming out then.
Born to a middle class mother and a bloodsucking poppa that bolted the minute he knew one of his dark little swimmers hit home. Yeah, typical daddy issues, blah blah...Liam never really cared much past passive aggressive comments and normal annoyances. His mother Trisha lived with her parents then, the three of them taking care of this sad, ill child. It was rough, and they never really understood what he was. The father had the eventual courtesy, about five years in, to inform poor Trisha about what exactly she’d brought into the world. She didn’t believe the fucker, of course.
Until Liam really started liking raw meat.
Not the meat itself, but the leftover blood in the package. Terrified, confused, and just feeling awful all around, she had to reorganize her life and her idea of parenting to fit this child. She packed up and they moved to the countryside.
And so began the “Don’t Bite” motto of life. Liam learned not to hurt folks to stop his own pain, to enjoy what he had...like a mother that didn’t try and kill him with a stake. She cared more to give her son what he needed...blood. Her blood. Just enough to keep him sated. Liam learned respect, caring, and restraint, qualities sometimes not found in his full-blooded kin.
There was a rough spot in secondary school when Liam learned that he wasn’t going to live a long, happy life. The pain was a sign. The slightly quick growth, another. And once he ran into a couple vampires that were flying under the radar, they made him understand how low he was. That he was a mistake. Suddenly, parties became enticing, every new drink and drug an experience worth dying for. Trisha had to go through hoops to keep doctors from drawing his blood, let alone run any drug tests on him. Their relationship was strained around then, and once Liam graduated he left for London to cool down and mature.
Fast-forward, and Liam’s working a menial job to make ends meet in Edgetoun. IT work fit him, since he spent a large portion of his teens messing with electronic instruments and computers his few friends had. Plus, lots of people needed help with their newfangled gadgets and gizmos, and he was happy to help and talk to them. Recently, he’s back in touch with his mother and patching things up...while not telling her about all the crazy shit he does for fun. No need to worry her.
But how can she not be worried when her pariah of a son is on the ass end of a bloody race war?

| Family |
Trisha Woodsworth | Mother : A kind, gentle woman, with a fair bit of paranoia. You get that when your kid’s kind of on the chopping block.
| Strengths |
Incredibly open-minded
 Curious
 Protective


| Weaknesses |
 No real restraint
Locked to his path, sees no other future; “Blinders” on
Lacks any sort of commitment

The Other
| Theme Song |
 Marry The Night – Lady Gaga
”I'm gonna marry the night
I won't give up on my life
I'm a warrior queen
Live passionately tonight”

| House Number |
Churchill Gardens 5B
| Extra Information |
Liam has a lizard named Squeaks. That fucker knows shit.