Frederigo Tripada

[Existentially Odd]

Name: Frederigo Alessandro Tripada
Commonly referred to as: Rigo
Age (appearance): Early thirties
Age (actual): 1510
Date of birth: 9th of June, 502
Date sired: The early months of 540
Starsign: Gemini
Gender: Male
Species: Vampire

Sire: Marcellus Olivarius Sercio

Permissions given in reasonable roleplay:
(Yes = you don't have to ask before acting in RP, No = you ask first)
Wounding/Cursing: Yes
Killing: No
 
Appearance
Hair: A rich dark brown.  Generally worn in a shaggy style of layered lengths that descend from a mostly-central part.  Left long enough to brush his collar at the back of his neck, Rigo's hair is cut shorter at the front and sweeps in increasing length around the sides so that it frames his face perfectly.  His hair is fine and often played with, arching this way and that as he frequently runs his hands through it.  His eyebrows are brown, rather finely shaped and drawn away from his central brow in a flat arch.  He has a dark brown coloured moustache, soul patch and a sparse goatee beard on his chin.  His limbs are covered with brunette hairs and his chest is bereft of hair altogether (though there is a thin trail from his belly button to his groin).

Eyes: Deep, rich brown, soulful and serious.

Nose: Broad of nostril, straight of shape, his is a long nose that adds a sense of nobility to his face.
 
Lips: He has a rather narrow mouth with a full lower lip and a very shapely upper lip with a pronounced cupid's bow.

Height: 178cm (5ft 9in)
 
Weight: 82kg (180lbs)

Frame: Rigo has a strong frame, though his musculature is understated; he is toned but not overtly shapely, having been born with rather narrow shoulders and an even narrower waist.  He was not given to athletic pursuits in his living years so he is quite lean and moves with an economical grace.  His arms and shoulders are his most shapely feature, due to the many hours of instrument playing, painting and manual labour he perfomed with his hands while he was alive; his forearms still have outstanding muscle and veins in them.

Complexion: Caucasian and very pale after his millenium and a half of existence.
 
Voice: Recognisably masculine but fairly plain; sits in the upper register in pitch as far as male voices go.
 
Tattoos/Distinguishing marks: None.
 
Usually seen wearing:  Jeans and an ecclectic collection of layered upper garments.
 
Body Language
Common stance: Rigo will often be found perched pensively on furniture, arms straight and hands on knees or standing back, his left arm barred across his abdomen and his right elbow resting on it, fingers plucking at his chin or cupped over his mouth while he contemplates... things.

Visual habits:  Running his hands through his hair, tugging on the hairs on his chin thoughtfully.
 
Occupation: Private art and literature restorator/conservator, freelance restorator/conservator for art galleries and museums.
 
Personality: Rigo is an artist who perpetually seems to have his head cocked, listening as inspiration whispers in his ear even while he attempts to interact normally with the world around him.  He is an even-tempered, inquisitive soul who gains great joy from the beauty of life around him - and he sees beauty everywhere.  He will always shy from ugliness and avoids confrontation at all costs - he's quite skilled mentally and wouldn't hesitate to alter situations that make him uncomfortable, if it was the easiest way to keep the peace.  Rigo is quite a solitary being who has no time for politics or the fussings of bombastic people; he becomes absorbed in music, writing or painting projects without hesitation and he is, for this reason, rather difficult to get to know, though he's not unfriendly, just... easily distracted.

Mortal History
Frederigo was the seventh child born to farmers in Italy during the latter half of Theodoric the Great's rule (seven more children would follow after him, though not all lived to adulthood).  Their humble farm lay south west of Ravenna, the capital city for the Ostrogoths and, unfortunately, a city frequently sought after as one army's prize or another's.  Mostly, the changes of allegiance and the fighting didn't affect Rigo too greatly; he spent his days as a child hiding from his father (who would beat him for not pulling his weight on the farm), singing to himself under shady trees by creeks or drawing in the dirt where no-one could find him.  He was forever being punished for running away from his chores and wasting his time daydreaming.

When he was thirteen, he'd had enough of not fitting in with his family's expectations and told his mother that he was going to Ravenna to make his fortune as a bard or an artist; she was his biggest supporter and his only confidante.  She helped him get away from his father and gave him as much help with gold and extra clothing as she could but he didn't leave with much.  Ironically, he tagged on behind a unit of soldiers marching into the city, though he never intended having anything to do with fighting; he was a lover, not a warrior, muscular but wiry of build, too small to be a soldier and too passionate to follow orders mindlessly.  He earned his keep travelling with them by fetching water, tending horses and mending equipment.

Ravenna was a confusing and wondrous world that young Rigo was ill-equipped to handle; he quickly had all his gold and belongings stolen and was thrown on the mercy of the city's streets to make a living.  Many business makers gave him a chance with board and a job but all were forced to let him go when the work eventually got the best of him - he was small and weak for his age, undernourished and prone to illness, so he lasted weeks at best in a variety of positions that ranged from blacksmith to tailor's apprentice, mainly because he simply didn't have the strength to heft the steel or carry the bolts of precious cloth.  He earned more than a few beatings for the mistakes he made and the goods he ruined, too.

His time as a street rat came to an end when he was fourteen and found a way to impress one of the most famous artists in the city.  He was employed as an apprentice to the master himself - a man named Dextur Eluypylus - and couldn't believe his fortune when he was taken into the artist's compound to live and develop his art as he saw fit.  At this time, regular meals and secure housing saw him hit a growth spurt that propelled him into puberty at last and he found great enjoyment experimenting sexually with the other boys (the girls didn't interest him, though he tried with one of them that had a great amount of interest in him) of the compound.  He soon realised that the boys were nothing on the men who tutored him in a variety of subjects and it didn't take him long before he worked out that sharing Dextur's bed in secret afforded him extra attention towards his studies.

Rigo learned voraciously and his star continued to rise when his master was chosen to become the artist in residence at the Ostrogoth palace and he selected Rigo (along with four other students) to move there with him.  The palace was another world of intrigue and evolution in itself and Rigo found his skill set quickly expanding to include lyre playing and singing for visiting dignitaries at the behest of Anicius Manlius Severinus Boëthius.  Thereafter, Theodoric himself found Rigo's boyish face beautiful and his voice angelic (even after it broke he was able to sing faultlessly in a dizzyingly-high register) so he became a popular entertainer.  He learned to sing numerous songs in various dialects to please those the court was hosting, though he could only speak Latin and Italian fluently.  He could read and write in both of these languages as well.

It was easy to be swept up in the intrigues of the palace and Rigo was not immune; given his prettiness and charm, he was often propositioned on behalf of lonely dignitaries and he did his best to discreetly appease any and all of them, obediently sharing any details he'd learned from pillow talk the next day with Boëthius, the Ostrogoth consul.  He was treated favourably for his tale-telling by all but Dextur, who became bitterly jealous of his apprentice's success and popularity and officially severed their apprenticeship agreement when Rigo was seventeen.  By that stage, he'd learned all the techniques the man had to offer anyway, and invented new ones of his own that involved the other skills he'd learned in the city, so his position as bard and artist at the palace was in no danger of termination.  The bad blood between he and his former master festered, though Rigo's optimism and naive earnestness prevented him from understanding how deeply this rift ran until many years later.

When he was eighteen, Rigo's first relationship was undertaken with Flavius Symmachus - Boethius' son - and the young artist believed himself to be in love with the handsome, learned Roman he was not much younger than.  Although it benefitted Rigo in that he added another spoken language to his collection - Greek - it was, overall, a tumultuous pairing because Rigo felt obligated to continue his duties as court entertainer (in every sense of the word), unable to understand his lover's rage over his infidelities when they meant nothing to him but were merely performances for his superior's information.  For this argument he was called a concubine and whore and shoved out of Symmachus' suite crying on more than one occasion.  Somehow, in between, they always managed to find their way back to one another and their pairing would be good until Rigo was once again propositioned and succumbed.

The final act in his first love story came when Symmachus and his brother were elected consuls to the Goths in the same year and a twenty year old Rigo was cast aside for the sake of appearance in a public office.  Rigo didn't think his broken heart would ever mend and he found new artistic depths when venting his misery that gained him greater adulation among his artistic peers.  He entered a period of prolific creativity, feverishly crafting breathtaking mosaics, composing profound musical acts and forging boggling artefacts in a variety of metals and clays, expressing his pain in ways that he thought only he would understand, but which were, in fact, greatly admired and lauded by those around him.  Dextur's resentment and fury only grew.

A year into Symmachus' official duties as consul, his father Boethius was put on trial, accused of consorting with the Western Roman Empire.  Eventually he was executed at Theodoric's command and Rigo got his first true understanding of how diabolical political machinations could truly be.  He felt sympathy for his ex-lover but was still not welcomed when he attempted to offer condolences.  Flavius Magnus Aurelius Cassiodorus Senator - a man generally referred to as Cassiodorus - became magister officiorum when Rigo was twenty-one and Theodoric's Arian tolerance for other religions began to wane.  In fact, the King of Italy's war machine became increasingly noticeable throughout his reign as soldiers escorted treaty bearers or dignitaries but, by this stage, Rigo was doing his best to stay out of it, remaining engulfed in his art.

Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately), Cassiodorus was a scholar and philosopher of revolutionary ideas and, against his better judgement, Rigo found himself drawn to the wise and highly talented man.  He learned a great many literary lessons while scribing for him and had numerous philosophical discussions about their times and the woes facing their country.  Cassiodorus spent his career trying to bridge the sixth century cultural divides between East and West, Greek culture and Latin, Roman and Goth, and between a Catholic people and their Arian ruler and Rigo was present to listen to his burgeoning thoughts, to write with him and to understand more thanks to his insight.  They spent a great deal of time together and the rumours said they were lovers but they weren't; they were apprentice and master in a new and dynamic sense of the word.

Cassiodorus was responsible for reawakening Rigo's passion for life and the world.  He became open once more to talking with people, interacting with visitors and learning the tribulations of the kingdom.  He spent a further three years in this re-invigorated state of learning but then, quite unexpectedly, Theodoric died, throwing Ravenna and the palace into a time of confusion.  The monarchy was passed to his ten year old grandson Athalaric, though his mother - Theodoric's daughter - assumed the regency until her son was of age.  She attempted to keep things on an even keel and generally succeeded at this.  A year into her reign the Byzantines elected Justinian I as their Emperor and his efforts to restore the empire began - slowly at first, but with increasing momentum - unbeknownst to the Ostrogoths at that stage.

The Goth nobles influenced the court greatly for the next eight years, plying Athalaric with alcohol and encouraging excesses that saw him ignoring his mother's desire for a traditional Roman upbringing.  At eighteen, the boy king was dead.  Rigo had, during this time, settled into a scholarly and somewhat reserved manhood, spending his days speaking with Cassiodorus or creating new art.  He took students for himself as he had become a master artisan and musician, though he resisted the urge to favour any of them who chose to flatter him with their words or their bodies.  When Athalaric died, Ravenna was once again in an uproar that didn't truly die down.  The teenaged king was succeeded by Theodahad for two years, during which time Justinian I's general Belisarius began his conquest to take back the Roman empire in Sicily in 535.  Ravenna was still ignorant to this circumstance, however, its attention taken by yet another shift in power - by Vitiges - in 536.  He had Theodahad murdered soon after he was named king.

As a thirty-four year old, Rigo had become tired of the machinations of politicians and men aspiring to power.  He generally spent his time with Cassiodorus or in his studio with his apprentices, his nights (usually - but not always) alone in his suite.  He'd been elected Master of the Arts for the palace for his efforts, not particularly caring for the title and not aware of how the promotion caused hatred to brew in Dextur's breast (for he'd been demoted in favour of Rigo), weary of the way new employees would swagger into his area, throw their weight around in the name of the new ruler and stalk away again.  He was wanting a change in his life, a new challenge, to achieve a greater vision and his discussions with Cassiodorus were of an increasingly restless nature.

By 537 the Byzantine reconquest of Italy and its surrounding lands could no longer be ignored and Ravenna became unsettled, despite King Vitiges' attempts to bolster the peoples' confidence.  Cassiodorus left for Constantinople and was replaced by a trio of mysterious consorts, devastating Rigo and causing him to withdraw into his art once more.  Due to the fractious nature of the country, the trio of Constantinopleans was met with quite a bit of resistance by those in the Goth kingdom of Ravenna, though relations were friendly on the surface.  Dextur saw a chance to get close to power that others were wary of and he made eager acquaintance with the leader of the men, Marcellus Olivarius Sercio, whispering secrets in his ear with the belief that he would one day be favoured for his troubles.

In truth, Marcellus and his two associates were very special confidantes of Emperor Justinian himself, sent to the city of Ravenna as a precursor to taking the capital when the time was right.  Though many suspected this connection and kept them at arm's length, Dextur played into it, thinking he was securing himself a position of power.  He also took the opportunity of Marcellus' indulgence to point him in Rigo's direction, nominating Rigo as an untrustworthy element with far too much power at court, causing the elite soldier to turn his focus on the unsuspecting, depressed artisan.  While this perusal pleased Dextur for a while, it soon became not enough for the embittered ex-master and he began to plot to ensure that Marcellus would kill his arch enemy off once and for all.

The first night that Marcellus laid eyes on Rigo - sweating profusely as he melted gold over a blistering flame - there was something fateful that occurred when their gazes met.  They had years together thereafter but Rigo believes, to this day, that when they looked at one another in that first instant on that first night, an electric current passed between them and they fell in love at first sight.  Whether this was true or not, it was undeniable that the pair ruffled one another's feathers instantly, the elite soldier and the daydreaming artist at complete odds.  Their first words were terse, their skins tingling, their nostrils flaring as they got the scent of the other and each did his best to keep his distance as Rigo abandoned his mold and they faced off.  Nothing in particular was said to bristle about, but snap and spark at one another they did, living on in the other's thoughts long after Marcellus spun on his heel and stalked out.

Two nights later, Rigo was sought by Marcellus once more as he sang to a bright moon in the gardens and they became impassioned lovers beneath the stars.

For two years they were inseparable.  Dextur seethed, seeing his plans foiled as yet another being fell under Rigo's captivating spell.  It took only a month before Marcellus confessed to Rigo that he was a vampire, that his two close associates were his childe and his grandchilde, that they performed untraceable assassinations at Justinian's behest because it suited them.  Rigo wasn't fazed by the vampirism and he greatly enjoyed Marcellus drinking from him but he couldn't abide the murders the trio committed; he also couldn't bear the thought of being separated from his soulmate, so the best he could do was ignore the invisible blood on his lover's hands, pretending none of it happened.  They killed a few times while they were in Ravenna but Rigo begged that his four hundred year old love not be the one to perform the deeds; in this, he was indulged.

By 539, Justinian's troops had conquered their way through most of Italy and they thrust towards Ravenna.  The Byzantines blockaded the city in order to attain their unconditional surrender but it took six long months before Belisarius was able to take Vitiges and his queen to Constantinople.  In his wake, the now-Byzantine court was swept with a new terror as the Plague of Justinian broached its newly-opened doors and inhabitants of the city began to fall victim.  Fearfully, Marcellus and his family took Rigo and headed by night for a new home, a clean place to live, with Marcellus ready to deny his servitude to Justinian in order to live a peaceful life with Rigo.  Unfortunately, it seemed the whole land was suffering from swollen nodes, necrotic hands, black tongue and listlessness.

To their abject horror, they couldn't escape the plague and by the beginning of 540 it was clear to the quartet that Rigo would die from it as he grew symptomatic.  Marcellus turned him against Rigo's better judgment - he'd never wanted to forfeit the beauty of a natural life and death for something unnatural and possibly cursed, but he didn't want to end his time with his lover prematurely if there was an alternative.  At thirty-eight years of age he became a vampire and fell in love with the world anew, through heightened senses, eternally grateful to Marcellus as his sire and soulmate.

Once Rigo was fledged into vampirism, he and his vampiric family made what would ultimately be a fatal decision to return to Ravenna.  They'd left hastily and Rigo had numerous belongings he wished to reclaim.  They returned to find a city ravaged by plague, barely recognisable as the thriving metropolis it had once been.  To Rigo's ignorant delight, they re-entered the palace to find Dextur had miraculously survived his bout of plague and was documenting its effects in painting.  Dextur saw that something was different about his old enemy, noticing likenesses to Marcellus and his companions that he'd always found strange (for he knew there had to be some reason the trio were restricted to their beds by day and only mobile at night) and determined to get to the bottom of it.

When Marcellus, Rigo and their fellow vampires left Ravenna for good, Dextur followed.  He tracked them for two years - mostly unbeknownst to them (Marcellus was aware of him a few times, and also of his ill-intentions, but he never told Rigo of the hatred he knew Dextur harboured for him, not wanting to hurt his sensitive lover's feelings, and he didn't share his knowledge with his family, thinking the old fool harmless) - and even tried accusing the four of treason so the Emperor would execute them.  Unfortunately for him, the accusation only resulted in an emissary being told that Marcellus and his children were no longer interested in working for the government and ties were severed amicably.  Dextur was, by now, an old and bitter man and he'd just about given up on ever having his revenge on Rigo when fate stepped in to show him the way.

The quartet entered a city where the plague was still waning and Dextur struck upon the most simple of ideas; he reported that the two side-by-side places of residence where Marcellus' fledge and his lover and Rigo and Marcellus were staying held four corpses for collection and disposal.  He'd seen them in slumber at some point and knew them to be exactly like corpses, even if they didn't bear the signs of plague that the rest did.  His gamble paid off and the corpse-collectors didn't pay such details any mind when there were cold, lifeless bodies apparently before them.  Marcellus' first childe and his grandchilde were taken first (after Dextur picked the locks on their homes and showed the morticians where to go) and, when they were taken into the sun and commenced screaming as their bodies burned and they perished blisteringly slowly, it caused an enormous uproar that awakened Marcellus, who was just being carried out of his residence, ahead of Rigo's 'corpse'.

What ensued was a maelstrom of death and violence as Marcellus awoke in a rage of mourning, started to burn and blister immediately and fought off the men that were carrying him, breaking their bodies against the front walls of the house.  The two men carrying Rigo dropped him harmlessly in the shadows within the boarded-up home and ran to see what was going on in front of the house, only to find Marcellus draining Dextur (who'd been lurking, to watch his handiwork unfold) to his timely death.  These last two men watched in horror as the roaring behemoth of a burning man then dropped Dextur's lifeless corpse, screamed, "Rigo!" to the sky before promptly falling down in a ball of white hot flames.  They fled in terror, forgetting the final corpse they had to collect and refusing to re-enter the establishment for the rest of their days.

When Rigo awoke at dusk, there was an unfathomable emptiness in his soul that propelled him out of the house in fear.  He saw Dextur's corpse, covered in ash and, just beyond, two similar piles of burned substance that he correctly identified as the remains of his blood kindred.  The street was deserted, though curtains twitched up and down it as his howls of desolation rent the still night air asunder.  Eventually, his survival instinct kicked in.  He collected the piles of ash in three separate containers, gathered his belongings and rode for a cave nearby, certain that he wouldn't be able to wake up the next night anyway, for surely a soul as broken as his would absorb what life there was propelling him and leave him as empty a husk as the man who'd ruined his life had been on the street that day?

Distant History

Of course, Rigo did survive the loss of his sire, though he could never forget the love he shared with his soulmate.  His mourning lasted centuries this time and he lost himself in his art as surely as he was lost to civilisation.  He made a home of caves in the hills of Italy, digging catacombs for himself that kept him well-hidden, but still allowed him to exit to find animals to feed on nightly.  He returned to his farming roots, in a sense, and kept livestock when the wildlife became scarcer, learning not to kill his life source and to breed it so that it would replenish itself.  He didn't speak to people, didn't practise his talents as his sire had been teaching him to do, didn't do much of anything beyond digging himself a miniature city inside a mountain and learning to survive with his heart ripped out of his chest.

After three hundred or so years, Rigo was tired of living a solitary, self-sufficient life of recluse.  He emerged to find the world around him had changed, that new armies had fought for and conquered his homeland, that life continued to thrive whether he particpated or not.  He was enamoured by people, by new fashions, by new art techniques and styles of living.  They'd encroached close enough to his mountain tomb that he could visit them nightly; he was renewed by the taste of human blood, by the desire to take it without his victims knowing, by his senses being challenged once again.

When he emerged from his home in the late 800s, he brought with him the plethora of art he'd created in his mourning period.  Most of the paintings featured Marcellus in various poses and he didn't bring all of them because they had become his companions in lieu of the real thing, but his wood and bone carvings, his marble and clay sculptures and his metal castings emerged and he took them to markets or peddled them to 'respectable' households for sale.  Mostly, he was looking for the interaction with people rather than money but he made quite a bit of it anyway, stashing it in locked chests in secluded pockets in his cave home and finding pleasure in the fact that his art was gaining respect as 'traditional' or even 'old fashioned'.

This bemusement with his state of immortality and the fact that the products of his talent would only continue to date and look truly authentic to a world gone by has never faded but it struck him strongly at this time.  It became his new passion, in fact; making up stories about how he came by such aged art and where he picked up techniques for paint making or brush-making that seemed to have been lost long ago.  Rigo had a very grand secret and it had never mattered all that much to him when he'd had Marcellus to share it with but now that he was on his own, it was his great joy; he'd seen and experienced things firsthand that people were now awed by and he could teach it, because people seemed interested, and also learn from them.

With this new outlook, Rigo went through another period of transition.  It took him a hundred years to realise his vision, but eventually he'd moved out of his catacombs into a house, had learned to live again in a mortal world that ran from dawn to dusk while following his nocturnal timetable and, most importantly, had figured out how to travel.  It was the key to his freedom, ultimately, and though he began in that first century with small sojourns through Italy, he eventually realised that the distance was only limited by his bravery.  He was reliant on his powers for drinking from people unknowingly but he found himself stronger despite not practising and soon it was nothing to dominate people, to read their thoughts, know all their secrets and to manipulate situations to his whim.

The one stumbling block to this progression came the night he realised that he was over four hundred years old.  It was quite a shock to him, for he suddenly realised that he would outlive the age his sire had reached.  There was over a week where such crises of faith left him immobile and thoroughly consumed with self-pity, self-hatred (for he had somehow brought Dextur into the mix and yet he was the only who'd lived out of all of them and he still had no true idea what had happened) and misery but he came out of it more quickly than any of his other bouts of depression.  He'd decided he would have to do justice to his sire's name, that he'd live smarter and longer and leave behind a legacy that could be traced and celebrated, rather than the trails of death and secrecy Marcellus had left upon the Earth (Rigo was certain that, had he lived, together they would have made the world a far better place... and thus began the exultation of Marcellus to his pedestal of untouchability in Rigo's mind).

Rigo's life thereafter took on a pattern that would hold for most of the next thousand years of his existence.  Where there was military carnage, violence or political strife, he stayed away; where there were artists, artistic retreats or great minds he followed.  He learned to travel in a coffin by day, driven by trusted mortals who knew his secret and who were paid to protect him (though he made sure they loved him, too, so that they would sacrifice themselves rather than let him fall to danger), or by night independently.  He travelled through Italy, learning of Byzantine artistic techniques, sharing what he'd learned as an apprentice and spending long nights in philosophical discussion with religious minds, trying to understand the burgeoning worship of unseen forces (that he attributed to the hands of vampires over messiahs but couldn't say) and the condemnation of those seen as unworthy.

He met vampires in many of the places he visited, more and more of them as he ventured north and explored foreign lands where they spoke languages he didn't understand (but he could read their minds and decipher what they were on about for the most part).  He was always friendly towards other vampires, frequently finding he was the same age or older than most of them, pondering the possible benefits to a fledgling of his own when he met young ones and generally not staying too long in any other kindred's company.  They made him think forlornly of his lost love, Marcellus, but the thing was, he didn't ever feel lonely; even in countries with inhospitable weather, surrounded by people he couldn't verbally communicate with, he found fascinating artifacts, artworks and relics that inspired him.  He could sit and ponder the carvings in a gold urn for nights on end, thinking fanciful, wondering thoughts and not find a time when he wanted for company over things (beyond wishing Marcellus was still with him to share his thoughts with).

As well as art, Rigo sought music everwhere he could to enrich his life.  He documented his travels in writing and dabbled in the creation of some fictional stories that allowed him to romanticise his great love in unattainable characters surrounded by hopeless situations.  He combined these two loves in the composition of his own musical movements, though he knew he was not very good; still, he enjoyed learning new instruments, meeting with ladies and gentlemen who could introduce him to different styles of music and a variety of methods of making it.  His singing voice became properly trained and he appeared on stage in a friend's opera as a favour, moving on when his face was recognised or he was lauded too highly - he knew the key to his survival was being smart and being anonymous.

In 1345 he met someone very different from the rest and he was immediately smitten, much like he had been with Marcellus.  He was a man in his early twenties named Pietro and Rigo met him in Rome, after witnessing him singing a solo, backed by a church choir.  He seemed descended directly from Heaven itself (though Rigo doubted the existence of such a place), his voice a catalyst to epiphany.  Rigo had generally been celibate, his periods of abstinence broken only when he found a mind that could match his in passion or inspire him with lust for the subject they were sharing (writing, art, music) but when he saw Pietro sing he was reminded again of what pure, human lust felt like.  He wanted him desperately, in so many ways, and he pursued the boy avidly.

Unfortunately, Pietro was newly married to a young woman he loved dearly and had never entertained any thought of being with a man; Rigo saw this as a challenge.  Firstly, he paid Pietro a lot of money to teach him how to play the newly-invented clavichord and they grew very close, singing and composing together late into many nights.  Rigo didn't use his powers on the young mortal man but he did use all his long-lost wiles and charmed him, biding his time cleverly until there was an unacknowledged attraction before he kissed him.  Pietro was, predictably, shocked and confused and Rigo was appropriately aplogetic, confessing his lust for the beautiful, fair-haired man and agreeing when he vehemently proclaimed his love for his young wife.  Rigo's accommodation and concessions meant that Pietro didn't entirely cast him from his life, though they endured a brief (painful) period of separation while Pietro sorted himself out.

Eventually, their combined artistic talents drew them back together, though there was an undercurrent of sexual awareness between them that allowed Pietro the freedom to question Rigo and for the vampire to seduce the mortal with his lust and descriptive passion - slowly at first, with kisses that were shied from reluctantly, and then touches that became increasingly heated and overpowering to an innocent young man who'd married his virgin sweetheart young and known only her inexperienced, timid actions.  They became lovers after a year and Rigo found in himself a deplorable skill for conviction and deception; he was enamoured with Pietro to the point that he convinced the man that what they did in bed together was not adultery and would offend no God, for they were men and such offenses only counted between a man and a woman.  Men were a matter of convenience... though Pietro's pregnant wife didn't share this viewpoint when she walked in on them late one night in the middle of a passionate lovemaking session.

It was a time of great confusion and Rigo was amazed by his own determination to get Pietro for himself.  He wasn't sure where it would lead between them but he was adamant, through numerous, ugly arguments that he and Pietro were destined to be together.  Unfortunately, the Black Plague had different plans and before very long Pietro, his wife and their infant son were all dead.  Rigo was ashamed of himself, understanding that he'd been faced with the very decision his sire had some eight hundred years before but it was exactly that that had stopped him siring Pietro.  He was mad with lust for the man but, ultimately, he didn't love him as he had Marcellus and the whole situation was better off resolved by fate; he cried tears of regret and deepest shame over Pietro's lifeless corpse and he walked away hollow with grief... but he walked, he didn't crawl, and he understood that he could be a cruel monster (much like his sire had been), too.  If he was faced with wanting something, even something he shouldn't want, he would take it, on his own terms and leave it in any state that he saw fit.

The Black Plague ravaged Europe and it didn't matter where Rigo went, he saw its effects.  Still, people were resilient and eventually the Renaissance period took effect.  Creativity bloomed in every corner, in every form, and Rigo lost himself in it all.  He travelled in artistic circles that communicated by word of mouth about the genius witnessed in this town or that city and he travelled relentlessly to meet them all, study, share ideas and learn techniques.  He drew, painted, sculpted, sang, wrote, played or composed with all the great names in history and many that were never recognised for their contributions.  He moved through European countries and, when the gossip led him that way, to the Americas.

There came a time however, in the 1800s, when it became obvious to Rigo that he wouldn't be able to keep up with the growth of artistic genius all over the world and that he would have to choose a continent to favour.  The world was mourning the passing of greats such as Beethoven, Da Vinci and Shakespeare but Rigo saw their spark in all the young people he encountered, in the eyes of those he spoke to and shared techniques with and he was always looking forward, embracing the progress and seeking the newest next big thing.  Sometime around the 1900 mark he landed in North America with a fortune banked behind him and he saw a passion for life exactly like his reflected back at him.  He decided he would stay and hasn't left for any significant amount of time since.

Recent History

With increasingly-easy techniques for communication available to him in the twentieth century, Rigo found his contact with artists changing.  There were too many secreted away in their own private worlds for him to contact them directly, so he became an avid art gallery haunter and museum visitor.  Art schools and universities also became favourite places for him to visit, though he was wary of saying too much, staying too long or being too knowledgeable, lest his secret be discovered.  In 1969 he helped establish the Oppenheimer Art Recovery conservation lab in Chicago and was present to teach numerous 'ancient' techniques to the conservators and restorators on staff, leaving after a few years (before it was noticed he wasn't ageing) but always keeping in touch from a distance as technology revolutionised the process and fascinated him anew.

After Oppenheimer, Rigo found himself doing the same sort of work for museums and art galleries in a private capacity, trading on his name but moving around from city to city so that no-one he'd previously known would sight him.  He came to the nameless city only a year ago and bought a spacious estate in the east of the city where he could live and create freely.  He initially came to the city intending to enter a period of anonymity and abstain from the work he'd fallen to doing regularly but a surprisingly high supernatural population in the place has somewhat suspended that intent.  He's worked with the museum frequently, helping them restore artifacts and even run a few classes as a Renaissance-specialised-artist-in-residence at Watson University, fascinated by the variety of supernaturals around him and quite enjoying mixing with his own species on the odd occasion it happens.  He can be found in his studio or office at home most nights, though he enjoys travelling into the city to immerse himself in the rhythm of mortal life.  He will also be the first visitor to a new exhibit at the art gallery or museum and in the front row at every new opera, ballet or orchestral showing.

It is his goal not to bring attention to himself for a while... but he finds it extremely difficult to resist the urge to show off his talents in any forum and even more difficult to mind his own business if the opportunity for an interesting chat arises.

Hobby/Hobbies: Sneaking into intimate little clubs on open mic nights and singing, hanging out at the library or the art gallery people watching, painting, singing, playing the piano and writing fiction stories.

Likes: Creating (in just about every way), reading, performing, deep conversations and novel ideas.

Dislikes: Crowds, politics, militant situations, suppression.
 
Strengths: He's passionate, knowledgeable and filled with a voracious need to explore and learn and know and make.
 
Weaknesses/Flaws: He's self-centred, emotionally reticent and might well destroy what he desires in the pursuit of it.

Interesting Facts: Rigo has a rather handsome-yet-generic look and a youthful face, so people frequently mistake him for famous actors or singers and believe him to be much younger than thirty-eight, the age he was when turned.

Pictures:

                          

[Existentially Odd]

Roleplays featuring Rigo

New Beginnings (Rigo meets Ichabod when in search of Jenna)