Name: James Carson
Alias: Wardaddy
Face Claim: Brad Pitt
Species: Vampire
Real Age: 105
Looks Age: 36
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual [Male Preference]
Appearance.
Height: 6"2
Eye colour: Blue
Hair colour and length: Short sides, brown coloured, combed back.
Distinguishing Markings: Scar on his lip from a baby that is seen clearly when he wet/clean shaves.
Tattoo's/scars/birthmarks etc: His body is a litter of scars that hold stories he won't ever tell you about. His back is heavily scarred from burns with scars on his thighs from skin grafts.
James is a man hardened by war. He always sticks to his objectives and missions; no matter what may come and try to stop him. He hates to let a man down and lose someone when he could have done something to save them. He is often known for his brash decisions in war and getting results. He's a tough leader and rather a tough person. He likes to be hands on with his past approaches to training. Pushing someone's boundaries till they snap and watching them fall, he just loves to watch people break. The last thing you should ever do around James is give up. He won't tolerate it. He can be hands on at times and for the love of god, never lie to him. He's been told he's an asshole and completely agrees. If he doesn't want to give you time, you'll know about it. There's a careless side to him, determined to give himself lung cancer by smoking two packs a day at worst and swearing like a sailor at whoever looks at him twice. Perhaps just reckless, there are times when he couldn't care less what happens to him, not even his own life. He'll get into a bar fight for the sake of it or just cause you said something he did like and that could be anything. He's brash and quick to anger. His anger is a switch in his brain. He can be smiling and happy then suddenly want to punch you in the face. He'll shout and punch and won't realise what he'd done till the morning and then begins a completely different cycle.
There is a side to him when he will smile at you and act like there is more to life than his recklessness. It can be rare to see his softer side, that it's a case of blink and you miss it. You'll be more likely to see it when he has had a few drinks down his throat and even then, he tries to keep his tough facade up. James is terrified of losing people and it translate into his anger and sometimes his tendency withdrawn. He struggles to let himself connect with people for fear they will die soon.
Likes/Dislikes:
James' favourite season is the autumn months. He loves the weather change, the rainy days and the colours that come with the falling leaves and sunsets. When summer comes around, he's a god damn bitch about it. He'll happily admit to anyone that he's addicted to coffee. He drinks it when he wakes up and before he sleeps and with that he's a chain smoker at the worse of times. James will tell you that he'll kick the habit but he knows he won't even bother trying. He just likes the nicotine too much. With caffeine and nicotine, there is also alcohol. And god knows, he loves getting drunk on red wine and cheap cider. James likes to be in control and not in a control freak kinda way. He's just a bit of a upfront forward leader, he knows how to get things to work and work well, no matter what it may be. Since his time aboard, James also came to like seeing people <i>live.</i> There are days when he likes nothing more than just watching people smile with each other and laugh and know they're alive.
When it comes to dislikes, the main thing is when people think it's amusing to jump up on him. He knows it's a prank, doing something for a laugh but he can't stand it. He doesn't like people coming up behind him. James doesn't cope well when people pass away. Moving on isn't easy for him and it's arguable that he's still not over his grandmother's death after almost fifteen years. Grief is something he just doesn't get on with, he refuses to grief just cause he dislikes it. And god, does he hate spoil whiny men. He hates men who whine too much over silly little things and can't handle not having money to rely on. He's dated a few 'rich' kids in the past and dumped quickly.
Strengths:
James is headstrong but it's helped him more than stopped him. He'll stand up for what he thinks is right and what he thinks is best for someone. He's outspoken to the system and won't stand for shit he doesn't think is good. He's smart, street smart especially. He knows when someone is trying to fob him off or take him for a ride. Sure, his school record was close to being a parent's worse nightmare but he seemed to one day find his brain. On top, James is a quick thinker. He's very good at making decisions and usually ones that are for the better or just help him out in a situation. And despite being known as an asshole, in his better interest of people, he looks out for those he considers friends and comrades. He'd rather see himself hurt than someone he knows.
Weaknesses:
He's impulsive as fuck. He acts on raw instincts at times and that's when he ends up starting a bar fight and getting sent to the hospital for stitches. His recklessness is his impulsive side and theres no stopping him from doing stuff. He'll throw himself off a cliff if he thought it was a good idea. The past. The past is always on James' mind. He <i>doesn't</i> move on and acts like he does forgive and move on. He'll still dwelling with the passing of his grandmother that was over fifteen years ago. James is just scared to let go and somehow forget. Temper temper. He has hurt people before in blind rage and will probably do it again. He doesn't see it as a problem and probably never will.
Skills:
+ Fluent in German.
+ Natural Leader.
+Trained well in most forms of warfare.
+ Had been in the army for a long time.
Abilities
Immortal and power to heal himself. Strength, senses heightened etc. Has recently learnt to master flight.
History: War seems to have been a big factor for all of James' life. It's all his father ever spoke about and it's all his mother had ever seemed to cope with. Youngest of three boys - Henry and John - he was just five when the great war broke out and barely days after his seventh birthday, his father and two brothers was sent out to fight for their country. War had been no stranger in his father's life, a man who had always been in the army. His brothers were only seventeen and fourteen when he watched them leave, his mother pleading and reasoning that John should stay at home, he wasn't old enough but yet, there wasn't enough men that warranted his leaving. James watched many a days when his mother was sat by the fireplace reading book upon book, trying to stay strong and pretend it wasn't affecting her. Like many around him, she just trying to act like there wasn't a war on that was affecting them in anyway. It was in this period of time when James grew incredibly close to his grandmother. When his mother struggled to look after him while keeping up the house, he used to visit her for weeks at a time. The woman was secretly German. As soon as the war broke out, she assimilated with a new identity to keep herself safe from any possibly harm. That didn't mean she didn't want to completely refuse her heritage. She introduced James to her life. Teaching him about German History and more important to her was for him to know German. Whenever he was with her, they spoke German, telling each other secrets that she took to her grave a few years later before she could live to see the war end. Having to stay at home with his mother was difficult. When he wasn't old enough to work and do the jobs his brothers had done, he grew to resent the feeling of being useless. When the war ended and the men started to return, the waiting continued again. More days filled with horribly anxiety, James waiting for his father and brothers to return. Waiting for the days when his mother could have a real smile back on her face. However when they finally heard a knock on the door, the sight they saw was unexpected. His father had returned to them, missing an arm and scarred horribly over his body. His brothers however had fallen within the last months. James was heartbroken. His mother was devastated to loose two children to horrible ends. To see her husband return, a pale imitation of the man he once was ten times worse.
James life became ten times harder the moment he reached twelve and was finally deemed old enough by his mother to work. She stopped paying for him to go to school and within the money himself, he had no option in stopping his education. The family had no choice but to send James to work. His father couldn't work and his mother barely made enough to cover rent for the month, with a stigma still around about woman working. Even when it seemed the rest of America was doing better than them, they just wanted to be able to end the day with a smile. He worked any job going, but mostly labour jobs. He worked as a handy boy on construction sites to helping out with small things as delivering a letter. Life just got worse for the Carson's and the rest of America followed. His father never received money for his injuries nor did they receive any recognition for their losses and the sacrifice they had made for their country and they were not the only ones. His father couldn't work at all, there was no jobs that would take an amputee and worse yet was the fact the man was clearly not stable. The man was shell shocked and it wasn't surprising. Many nights James was woke up by his father screaming and his mother's crying. Witnesses from times when the man fell asleep in the living room how he would constantly murmur orders against his will, hearing him shout his brothers names before the screaming started. When the depression hit barely ten years later, they had to move. They managed to sell their house and moved into a small block of flats in a less than desirable area. James worked any job he could. From more dangerous construction work to just small errands. Every little penny mattered more and more. His mother took back to the world of work trying to find anyone who would be willing to offer her money. There was a moment into the Depression when James found himself snapping. He was sick of his father screaming every night, he was sick of his mother crying and suffering. He was sick of feeling helpless, feeling like a burden, an extra mouth for his mother to feed. Feeling like he didn't have the right to live in place of his brothers who lost their lives. One night when he was working a job, he decided to hope onto a train and found himself joining thousands of others who had left home trying to find a new line of work. Even those who had made a life living on the trains. Any job he found whenever he stopped over at a town, he sent every other penny he made back to his mother. Barely a year later, James made a brash decision he knew deep down was right for him. Even after the protests of The Bonus Army and knowing what had happened to his brothers, the state his father had come home in, James signed up for the army. Feeling it was the last thing he could do to make himself feel like he was human, that he had worth to the world and his parents. He sent a last letter to his mother telling her what he had done and from now on, any money he got would be sent straight to her.
He got on as he expected he would in the army. Growing up with a father who had fought in many wars before the Great War and seeing what had happened to him had prepared him enough. For a man whose education ended at the age of twelve however, he showed good knowledge and learning of everything around him. He was good at taking orders and it was quickly noticed he was better at giving them out. There was something about him that showed through in training, he had compassion for his comrades yet was stern enough to not completely let the men overrun him. Men came to respect him, even if he pushed them too hard and some questioned his age and authority to do so. He never let his training unit down and made sure they all made it through. He was recommended for Tank School from the commanding officer. Being told Privates needed a man like him to lead them. Someone who could keep their head on and make decisions that was for the better good. Promoted to Sergeant, he was given a crew that he vowed to keep alive for as long as he could; even if he also knew that even in desperate times the colonel refused his promotion because of his lack of education. When WW2 had first broke out, he had a brief problem with a few officers who questioned his knowledge of German and it's history. He never betrayed his grandmother who wanted to keep her identity secret and made up stories being obsessed with Grimm brothers as a boy and decided to explore first edition prints and therefore had to learn the language. Also defending himself that his knowledge would also help intelligence and possibly help to save lives in negotiations. After Pearl Harbour, it wasn't long before they were sent to help the Allied Forces in the North Africa campaign.
James knows how many still remember what happened in 1942 in North Africa. He won't admit that it stops him from even getting a ten minute sleep and that he still has panic attacks over it. The day even felt jinxed with the colonel having a smile on his face saying this part of the war could be over soon. He shouldn't have agreed, maybe he wouldn't have possibly let his guard down. Things were going well enough for a battle. The shot came from behind, a sniper, no matter how many people have told him, he wouldn't have been able to see it happen, he still protests he could have. The gas tank was hit, igniting within seconds. Before he could even pull himself out of the hatch, the flames already engulfed his back. Reaction taking over before any more of him could catch fire, falling to the hard ground, he couldn't do anything as he felt it burn through his clothes and onto his skin. He had never heard himself scream like that, never heard or knew he could produce the noises that left his throat. The only thing he could manage to say was simply pleading with someone to stop the fire. He can't even recall how they did, how they moved him. He could only remember the pain from the burns, from his throat and the smell of his flesh. It never stopped. In hospital, he woke up screaming in pain. When they scraped the dead skin away and tried to remove any harmful substances left, he barely recognised himself. The words that left his mouth wasn't him, feeling useless and just like a body taking up another bed. The army was determined to get him away from the armoured division and he was determined to be back in the tank leading again. It didn't take him long to prove himself to his superiors. His crew welcoming him back with open arms, practically begging to be lead by him again. He's cautious now of anyone that stands behind him, when he knows someone is there, when he feels someone might attack him again. As much as he tries not to let it bother him, tries not to fall into panic attacks, it only makes it worse.
It was towards the end of the war, arguable his life could have changed for the better. They lost a man. James couldn't remember the last time he had lost a man, his crew hasn't changed since they met in Africa and now to have him replaced was hard on everyone. The new recruit was at first, less than desirable. A newbie to everything war, James had his work cut out for him only to have Andrew break down every wall that James had ever built up around himself in a matter of days. As reluctant as he would ever be to admit it, he knew he had fallen in love and in the worse type of place to ever consider loving someone as well. But James couldn't stop himself and when all else failed, he ended up with two bullet holes in his stomach, bleeding to death in Fury, begging the man he loved to make a last attempt to survive through the escape hatch. and hide. James could have never predicted that he wasn't going to die that night. The so called reason that some of the SS moved at night becoming apparent to him. On the brink of death, he could barely recall the feeling of the fangs biting into his neck. The feeling of his life finally being drained from him. The next few days were a blurred haze. He could recall travelling with the SS, trying to decide why. He should be dead, he should be left to rot. Instead, over the days he could only feel a different sense of life coming back to him, A different type of hunger that was awakening in him. The days with the SS were short, having someone explain to him things he couldn't get his head around. The blood lust, the fact he was now the living dead. It was almost the nightmare that James never wanted from his life. When the war grew to near end, the only thing he knew was that he couldn't go back, he knew he had to leave Germany as soon as he could. He was suppose to be dead, everyone probably thought he was dead and he was content to keep it that way as much as it hurt that he resigned himself to never see Andrew again.
He travelled further into Eastern Europe, seeing all the destruction that had plagued the world. Within these weeks was when the blood lust finally took over him. The urges he kept fighting finally got too strong. Hiding out in Ukraine, he made his first kill. Kidnapping a man, he got his first taste for blood. The thrill of the kill when he sunk his fangs into someone's neck. And god, it was good. James had no reservation of killing. It was all he had done for the last three years of his life, now was no different. But instead, he set his sights for the ones that got away with war crimes. Over the years, learning his skills and abilities that he could do, he tracked down any war criminals that had gotten away, either from the court itself when they were clearly guilty or fled to other countries. He eventually made his way back to America, finally set on trying to make a life as a vampire. Somehow.
But the hole in his heart was yearning. The quiet moments were constantly filled with thoughts of the man he had loved. Wondering what happened to him, if he had been okay, if he had lived out the war. Not even knowing what happened to him that night after he went through the hatch. It took him a few years to finally track down what even happened to him and even then, the years had grown into decades. He knew he was never going to see Andrew again, part of him didn't want to ever taunt himself being so close to him. Yet there was something so bittersweet knowing the man had at least seemed to live a life outside of the war. In fact, it was the first time James had ever felt happiness since the war.
Years passed again before he heard of the new city that was allowing species to live how they wanted to be known. Not wishing to live in the shadows anymore, James packed up and moved to the city. Finally hoping this could be a new chance at least, to live how he wanted to in the open and perhaps finally set up some sort of a life.
Alias: Wardaddy
Face Claim: Brad Pitt
Species: Vampire
Real Age: 105
Looks Age: 36
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual [Male Preference]
Appearance.
Height: 6"2
Eye colour: Blue
Hair colour and length: Short sides, brown coloured, combed back.
Distinguishing Markings: Scar on his lip from a baby that is seen clearly when he wet/clean shaves.
Tattoo's/scars/birthmarks etc: His body is a litter of scars that hold stories he won't ever tell you about. His back is heavily scarred from burns with scars on his thighs from skin grafts.
James is a man hardened by war. He always sticks to his objectives and missions; no matter what may come and try to stop him. He hates to let a man down and lose someone when he could have done something to save them. He is often known for his brash decisions in war and getting results. He's a tough leader and rather a tough person. He likes to be hands on with his past approaches to training. Pushing someone's boundaries till they snap and watching them fall, he just loves to watch people break. The last thing you should ever do around James is give up. He won't tolerate it. He can be hands on at times and for the love of god, never lie to him. He's been told he's an asshole and completely agrees. If he doesn't want to give you time, you'll know about it. There's a careless side to him, determined to give himself lung cancer by smoking two packs a day at worst and swearing like a sailor at whoever looks at him twice. Perhaps just reckless, there are times when he couldn't care less what happens to him, not even his own life. He'll get into a bar fight for the sake of it or just cause you said something he did like and that could be anything. He's brash and quick to anger. His anger is a switch in his brain. He can be smiling and happy then suddenly want to punch you in the face. He'll shout and punch and won't realise what he'd done till the morning and then begins a completely different cycle.
There is a side to him when he will smile at you and act like there is more to life than his recklessness. It can be rare to see his softer side, that it's a case of blink and you miss it. You'll be more likely to see it when he has had a few drinks down his throat and even then, he tries to keep his tough facade up. James is terrified of losing people and it translate into his anger and sometimes his tendency withdrawn. He struggles to let himself connect with people for fear they will die soon.
Likes/Dislikes:
James' favourite season is the autumn months. He loves the weather change, the rainy days and the colours that come with the falling leaves and sunsets. When summer comes around, he's a god damn bitch about it. He'll happily admit to anyone that he's addicted to coffee. He drinks it when he wakes up and before he sleeps and with that he's a chain smoker at the worse of times. James will tell you that he'll kick the habit but he knows he won't even bother trying. He just likes the nicotine too much. With caffeine and nicotine, there is also alcohol. And god knows, he loves getting drunk on red wine and cheap cider. James likes to be in control and not in a control freak kinda way. He's just a bit of a upfront forward leader, he knows how to get things to work and work well, no matter what it may be. Since his time aboard, James also came to like seeing people <i>live.</i> There are days when he likes nothing more than just watching people smile with each other and laugh and know they're alive.
When it comes to dislikes, the main thing is when people think it's amusing to jump up on him. He knows it's a prank, doing something for a laugh but he can't stand it. He doesn't like people coming up behind him. James doesn't cope well when people pass away. Moving on isn't easy for him and it's arguable that he's still not over his grandmother's death after almost fifteen years. Grief is something he just doesn't get on with, he refuses to grief just cause he dislikes it. And god, does he hate spoil whiny men. He hates men who whine too much over silly little things and can't handle not having money to rely on. He's dated a few 'rich' kids in the past and dumped quickly.
Strengths:
James is headstrong but it's helped him more than stopped him. He'll stand up for what he thinks is right and what he thinks is best for someone. He's outspoken to the system and won't stand for shit he doesn't think is good. He's smart, street smart especially. He knows when someone is trying to fob him off or take him for a ride. Sure, his school record was close to being a parent's worse nightmare but he seemed to one day find his brain. On top, James is a quick thinker. He's very good at making decisions and usually ones that are for the better or just help him out in a situation. And despite being known as an asshole, in his better interest of people, he looks out for those he considers friends and comrades. He'd rather see himself hurt than someone he knows.
Weaknesses:
He's impulsive as fuck. He acts on raw instincts at times and that's when he ends up starting a bar fight and getting sent to the hospital for stitches. His recklessness is his impulsive side and theres no stopping him from doing stuff. He'll throw himself off a cliff if he thought it was a good idea. The past. The past is always on James' mind. He <i>doesn't</i> move on and acts like he does forgive and move on. He'll still dwelling with the passing of his grandmother that was over fifteen years ago. James is just scared to let go and somehow forget. Temper temper. He has hurt people before in blind rage and will probably do it again. He doesn't see it as a problem and probably never will.
Skills:
+ Fluent in German.
+ Natural Leader.
+Trained well in most forms of warfare.
+ Had been in the army for a long time.
Abilities
Immortal and power to heal himself. Strength, senses heightened etc. Has recently learnt to master flight.
History: War seems to have been a big factor for all of James' life. It's all his father ever spoke about and it's all his mother had ever seemed to cope with. Youngest of three boys - Henry and John - he was just five when the great war broke out and barely days after his seventh birthday, his father and two brothers was sent out to fight for their country. War had been no stranger in his father's life, a man who had always been in the army. His brothers were only seventeen and fourteen when he watched them leave, his mother pleading and reasoning that John should stay at home, he wasn't old enough but yet, there wasn't enough men that warranted his leaving. James watched many a days when his mother was sat by the fireplace reading book upon book, trying to stay strong and pretend it wasn't affecting her. Like many around him, she just trying to act like there wasn't a war on that was affecting them in anyway. It was in this period of time when James grew incredibly close to his grandmother. When his mother struggled to look after him while keeping up the house, he used to visit her for weeks at a time. The woman was secretly German. As soon as the war broke out, she assimilated with a new identity to keep herself safe from any possibly harm. That didn't mean she didn't want to completely refuse her heritage. She introduced James to her life. Teaching him about German History and more important to her was for him to know German. Whenever he was with her, they spoke German, telling each other secrets that she took to her grave a few years later before she could live to see the war end. Having to stay at home with his mother was difficult. When he wasn't old enough to work and do the jobs his brothers had done, he grew to resent the feeling of being useless. When the war ended and the men started to return, the waiting continued again. More days filled with horribly anxiety, James waiting for his father and brothers to return. Waiting for the days when his mother could have a real smile back on her face. However when they finally heard a knock on the door, the sight they saw was unexpected. His father had returned to them, missing an arm and scarred horribly over his body. His brothers however had fallen within the last months. James was heartbroken. His mother was devastated to loose two children to horrible ends. To see her husband return, a pale imitation of the man he once was ten times worse.
James life became ten times harder the moment he reached twelve and was finally deemed old enough by his mother to work. She stopped paying for him to go to school and within the money himself, he had no option in stopping his education. The family had no choice but to send James to work. His father couldn't work and his mother barely made enough to cover rent for the month, with a stigma still around about woman working. Even when it seemed the rest of America was doing better than them, they just wanted to be able to end the day with a smile. He worked any job going, but mostly labour jobs. He worked as a handy boy on construction sites to helping out with small things as delivering a letter. Life just got worse for the Carson's and the rest of America followed. His father never received money for his injuries nor did they receive any recognition for their losses and the sacrifice they had made for their country and they were not the only ones. His father couldn't work at all, there was no jobs that would take an amputee and worse yet was the fact the man was clearly not stable. The man was shell shocked and it wasn't surprising. Many nights James was woke up by his father screaming and his mother's crying. Witnesses from times when the man fell asleep in the living room how he would constantly murmur orders against his will, hearing him shout his brothers names before the screaming started. When the depression hit barely ten years later, they had to move. They managed to sell their house and moved into a small block of flats in a less than desirable area. James worked any job he could. From more dangerous construction work to just small errands. Every little penny mattered more and more. His mother took back to the world of work trying to find anyone who would be willing to offer her money. There was a moment into the Depression when James found himself snapping. He was sick of his father screaming every night, he was sick of his mother crying and suffering. He was sick of feeling helpless, feeling like a burden, an extra mouth for his mother to feed. Feeling like he didn't have the right to live in place of his brothers who lost their lives. One night when he was working a job, he decided to hope onto a train and found himself joining thousands of others who had left home trying to find a new line of work. Even those who had made a life living on the trains. Any job he found whenever he stopped over at a town, he sent every other penny he made back to his mother. Barely a year later, James made a brash decision he knew deep down was right for him. Even after the protests of The Bonus Army and knowing what had happened to his brothers, the state his father had come home in, James signed up for the army. Feeling it was the last thing he could do to make himself feel like he was human, that he had worth to the world and his parents. He sent a last letter to his mother telling her what he had done and from now on, any money he got would be sent straight to her.
He got on as he expected he would in the army. Growing up with a father who had fought in many wars before the Great War and seeing what had happened to him had prepared him enough. For a man whose education ended at the age of twelve however, he showed good knowledge and learning of everything around him. He was good at taking orders and it was quickly noticed he was better at giving them out. There was something about him that showed through in training, he had compassion for his comrades yet was stern enough to not completely let the men overrun him. Men came to respect him, even if he pushed them too hard and some questioned his age and authority to do so. He never let his training unit down and made sure they all made it through. He was recommended for Tank School from the commanding officer. Being told Privates needed a man like him to lead them. Someone who could keep their head on and make decisions that was for the better good. Promoted to Sergeant, he was given a crew that he vowed to keep alive for as long as he could; even if he also knew that even in desperate times the colonel refused his promotion because of his lack of education. When WW2 had first broke out, he had a brief problem with a few officers who questioned his knowledge of German and it's history. He never betrayed his grandmother who wanted to keep her identity secret and made up stories being obsessed with Grimm brothers as a boy and decided to explore first edition prints and therefore had to learn the language. Also defending himself that his knowledge would also help intelligence and possibly help to save lives in negotiations. After Pearl Harbour, it wasn't long before they were sent to help the Allied Forces in the North Africa campaign.
James knows how many still remember what happened in 1942 in North Africa. He won't admit that it stops him from even getting a ten minute sleep and that he still has panic attacks over it. The day even felt jinxed with the colonel having a smile on his face saying this part of the war could be over soon. He shouldn't have agreed, maybe he wouldn't have possibly let his guard down. Things were going well enough for a battle. The shot came from behind, a sniper, no matter how many people have told him, he wouldn't have been able to see it happen, he still protests he could have. The gas tank was hit, igniting within seconds. Before he could even pull himself out of the hatch, the flames already engulfed his back. Reaction taking over before any more of him could catch fire, falling to the hard ground, he couldn't do anything as he felt it burn through his clothes and onto his skin. He had never heard himself scream like that, never heard or knew he could produce the noises that left his throat. The only thing he could manage to say was simply pleading with someone to stop the fire. He can't even recall how they did, how they moved him. He could only remember the pain from the burns, from his throat and the smell of his flesh. It never stopped. In hospital, he woke up screaming in pain. When they scraped the dead skin away and tried to remove any harmful substances left, he barely recognised himself. The words that left his mouth wasn't him, feeling useless and just like a body taking up another bed. The army was determined to get him away from the armoured division and he was determined to be back in the tank leading again. It didn't take him long to prove himself to his superiors. His crew welcoming him back with open arms, practically begging to be lead by him again. He's cautious now of anyone that stands behind him, when he knows someone is there, when he feels someone might attack him again. As much as he tries not to let it bother him, tries not to fall into panic attacks, it only makes it worse.
It was towards the end of the war, arguable his life could have changed for the better. They lost a man. James couldn't remember the last time he had lost a man, his crew hasn't changed since they met in Africa and now to have him replaced was hard on everyone. The new recruit was at first, less than desirable. A newbie to everything war, James had his work cut out for him only to have Andrew break down every wall that James had ever built up around himself in a matter of days. As reluctant as he would ever be to admit it, he knew he had fallen in love and in the worse type of place to ever consider loving someone as well. But James couldn't stop himself and when all else failed, he ended up with two bullet holes in his stomach, bleeding to death in Fury, begging the man he loved to make a last attempt to survive through the escape hatch. and hide. James could have never predicted that he wasn't going to die that night. The so called reason that some of the SS moved at night becoming apparent to him. On the brink of death, he could barely recall the feeling of the fangs biting into his neck. The feeling of his life finally being drained from him. The next few days were a blurred haze. He could recall travelling with the SS, trying to decide why. He should be dead, he should be left to rot. Instead, over the days he could only feel a different sense of life coming back to him, A different type of hunger that was awakening in him. The days with the SS were short, having someone explain to him things he couldn't get his head around. The blood lust, the fact he was now the living dead. It was almost the nightmare that James never wanted from his life. When the war grew to near end, the only thing he knew was that he couldn't go back, he knew he had to leave Germany as soon as he could. He was suppose to be dead, everyone probably thought he was dead and he was content to keep it that way as much as it hurt that he resigned himself to never see Andrew again.
He travelled further into Eastern Europe, seeing all the destruction that had plagued the world. Within these weeks was when the blood lust finally took over him. The urges he kept fighting finally got too strong. Hiding out in Ukraine, he made his first kill. Kidnapping a man, he got his first taste for blood. The thrill of the kill when he sunk his fangs into someone's neck. And god, it was good. James had no reservation of killing. It was all he had done for the last three years of his life, now was no different. But instead, he set his sights for the ones that got away with war crimes. Over the years, learning his skills and abilities that he could do, he tracked down any war criminals that had gotten away, either from the court itself when they were clearly guilty or fled to other countries. He eventually made his way back to America, finally set on trying to make a life as a vampire. Somehow.
But the hole in his heart was yearning. The quiet moments were constantly filled with thoughts of the man he had loved. Wondering what happened to him, if he had been okay, if he had lived out the war. Not even knowing what happened to him that night after he went through the hatch. It took him a few years to finally track down what even happened to him and even then, the years had grown into decades. He knew he was never going to see Andrew again, part of him didn't want to ever taunt himself being so close to him. Yet there was something so bittersweet knowing the man had at least seemed to live a life outside of the war. In fact, it was the first time James had ever felt happiness since the war.
Years passed again before he heard of the new city that was allowing species to live how they wanted to be known. Not wishing to live in the shadows anymore, James packed up and moved to the city. Finally hoping this could be a new chance at least, to live how he wanted to in the open and perhaps finally set up some sort of a life.