Niklaus "Klaus" Freiherr

[Niklaus "Klaus" Freiherr]

[NOTE: The reason this is still a "WIP" is because Damon and I still have to iron out some things with how we want to Originals to have come about, since we made the site before they explained it in the third season.]

THERE'S A STORM
ON THE STREETS
B U T Y O U S T I L L D O N ' T RUN
W A T C H I N G A N D W A I T I N G
F O R T H E R A I N T O C O M E


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lyrics fitting your character,
up to four lines

NAME|| Niklaus Freiherr
NICKNAMES|| Nik or Klaus
AGE/BIRTHDAY|| Looks roughly 30, actually 1050; Sept. 29th, 961 AD
GENDER/ORIENTATION|| Male, straight
SPECIES|| Hybrid
CANON|| Yes


FACE CLAIM|| Joseph Morgan
HAIR COLOR|| Brown/blonde
EYE COLOR|| Blue
ANIMAL COLOR|| N/A
BLOOD DIET|| Humans – blood bags if he absolutely has to, but that’s not often the case.
BUILD|| height/weight/how they're put together
STYLE|| (optional)
DISTINGUISHING FEATURES|| (optional)


PERSONALITY||

Klaus… He would like to claim to be a man of contradictions, but that’s just not true. Anyone you ask will give you the same opinion of him – maybe described a little differently, maybe a bit more “politically correct” if they’re afraid of what he might do if he hears them (which actually isn’t much – it’s not like he thinks he’s some almighty saint or something, even if “almighty” has a nice ring to it).

LIKES/STRENGTHS|| (optional)
DISLIKES/WEAKNESSES|| (optional)
SECRETS/FEARS|| (optional)
SKILLS|| everyday things/magical abilities/supernatural talents


OCCUPATION|| Terror of the masses? That's not a job? Oh, well, nothing then.
FAMILY||

Esther, mother, original vampire
_____, father, werewolf bloodline
Elijah, half-brother, original vampire
Rebekah, half-sister, original vampire
Four other half-siblings, original vampires

HOMETOWN|| What is known today as Konin, Poland
HISTORY||

the story of their life up until this point. can be short, but specifics are always important and helpful.

BEHIND THE SCENES|| Jelly
OTHER CHARACTERS|| Isabelle (coming)
CONTACT|| PM or MSN ([e-mail])
RP SAMPLE||

He yawned, tilting his head back, closing his eyes, and dropping his jaw farther in exaggeration of the motion – human, bored. “Really, dear?” he mused, drawing out the sounds of the words, as if he was expecting something more. Which he was, simply because he thought that overestimating someone was always better than underestimating them. At least if he thought they could do more and they couldn’t, then whatever plans he had in place wouldn’t need any tinkering – not that they ever did. That was the beauty of back-up plans and back-ups for those back-up plans. Someone could think they were clever and one step ahead, ruining all his hard work, and he could shove it back in their faces and not only have the satisfying triumph of succeeding, but also of outwitting any and all of his opponents.

Except for that witch. She had gotten quite a few steps ahead of him with that little curse she spun, but thankfully all the torment that came from that was a thing of the past. The doppelganger was dead, the curse broken, and there he stood in all his hybrid glory – able to shift into a wolf without the touchy ties to the moon, and walk in the sunlight without fear of being burned (though, his original blood gave him that lovely advantage anyways).

But that didn’t really matter right now. His own status as a hybrid did little for him if he couldn’t figure out how to make more – for reasons he didn’t care to explain, of course. There were a few possibilities he wanted to try, and this had been the simplest: hunting down a healthy werewolf, feeding them his blood, killing them, and letting them transition. And he had found his werewolf, hiding in plain sight in a small town outside New York, living her life as a ‘normal’ human, except for the chains upon chains stored away in her basement. She just wouldn’t stop fighting him, despite the fact that her strength still rested in the moon’s pull, and that wasn’t going to come around for another three weeks. Poor thing.

She struggled against him, pulling at his arm that was circled around her, wrist to her mouth, and kicking at his legs until he retrained those too. She couldn’t do much damage, but it was irritating anyways – like a fly that would escape a swatting hand but stay buzzing around, unwelcome. Her teeth were clenched together, her whole self doing everything she could to not swallow his blood as it leaked into her mouth and the lower portion of her face, having little other place to go. His wrist would heal soon, and her abject refusal to swallow (he had to wonder why she didn’t just give in) was making him impatient.

“Stefan,” he called, lifting his head to watch the stairs where his… companion had disappeared, with orders, “have you found that address book yet? I have a feeling she may have some relatives that would be a lot more cooperative.” That was one possibility, but the more obvious idea was to threaten them to get her to comply herself (the latter, unspoken, one being the most obvious to the girl in his arms, as she immediately starting fighting harder against his grip – completely in vain). And if this process didn’t work, her family could be a back-up plan, on whom he could try the various other possibilities he had stored away in his mind. See? Back-up plans were effective.

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N O W T H E R E ' S N O W A Y B A C K
F R O M T H E T H I N G S Y O U ' V E D O N E
I K N O W I T ' S T O O L A T E
TO STOP THE SETTING SUN

[Jelly]

Moved!