Kazimir Van Den Berg

Name story:

I love to tell his name's story! I first developed him when I was a child, so I've given him a Japanese name "Katsu"... When the sotry was growing with me I decided he needed a more realistic name since he was born in Europe in 1600 and it made no sense to keep a japanese name... I couldn't get over how his name sounded and searched all over the internet for an European name that could sound more or less like Katsu... I've found that in German-native languages, a common nickname for Kazimir is "Katz" and I thought that was good enough! Now I just call him Kazimir and got over the "Katz" part xD ahahaha

Character age:

18

Character gender:

Male

Offsite roleplay:

This doll's character is not available for offsite roleplay.

Birthday: 02/11

Species: Vampire

Zodiac-Sign: Scorpio

Likes: Humans, quiet places, warm weather, long conversations.

Dislikes: Being hurt, being alone, cold, pain.

He was born in a small town in the western Netherlands, called Brielle. The year was 1642 and his family worked there, making and selling weapons for the constant war that filled the lands around them. His family wasn’t really rich and his mother, fearing rejection from her husband, lied about the pregnancy until it became way too obvious and too dangerous to take the baby off.

Kazimir was born blind. He grew up inside the house, because he was always afraid of the world outside. His father never really wanted him to be close anyway and the blind boy found a hideout for himself. A place where he could be alone with his own thoughts and feelings. He never feared the dark, because darkness was all he could see, so, he used to hide on the basement, where his father placed the gunpowder he would use to make the guns.

And then, there was the voice.

This quiet voice always whispered nice words to him. It was his only friend, his companion and his partner. After his mother, father and brother went out for work, Kazimir would always go down the basement and wait for the low whispers to begin. It would tell him tales about time, about ghosts and witches.

These tales were never scary, but always full of heroes and beautiful queens.

Kazimir learned to love the voice.

His father yelled at him everytime he didn’t do something right - and he failed a lot -, but it never mattered. His mother would never tell him good stories to sleep and his brother would never take him out to play. They were always too busy with the war. Too busy making enemies and feeding hate. But for Kazimir, nothing of that was important, as long as the voice was there.

When he was about to be fifteen years old, he went down to the basement. That day was his birthday and he expected his friend would be there to share this moment. But the voice wasn’t there. He waited for many hours and didn’t hear a thing.

And the voice never said goodbye.

After this day, Kazimir’s eyes slightly changed it’s colors, and he started to see. First they were only mixed lights and shadows, and then disformed figures, until the time when he was completely able to see. He saw his mom and his dad and also his dear brother. Oh, how beautiful they were. And Kazimir saw his own reflex in the mirror. For the first time he realized how languid he looked. How deep were his eyes, how thin were his arms and legs. He saw himself as a living ghost. But none of that offended him. Actually he was expecting that. Somehow he always knew, if he was able to see, he was going to face that image in the mirror.

He felt happy for his eyes and also for seeing his family for the first time. He could walk outside and watch the sunrise. He enjoyed the ladies, always smiling and chatting. But he never got close. He never talked to any of them, he was never part of that world. No matter how much time passed, he would always wake up in the middle of the night and stand by the window, watching the shadows as they danced through the winds.

On one of these nights, while he was secretly walking outside his house, he saw a light moving far away. He first thought it was nothing and then he realized it was indeed something. Someone was there and he got scared. He was afraid to be seeing and he ran to the other side, near the woods. The men came into his house and all he could hear was the screams of his mother, scared, hurt, while the fire was spreading though the walls. His father cursed and tried to protect his family from the men, but he wasn’t strong enough. The fire reached the room filled with gunpowder and a big explosion lighted up in the night sky.

Kazimir wanted to cry, but he couldn’t. The men wouldn’t stop and they would search for him if they found out someone survived. So, he started to run. Through the whole night, guided by the shadows, he was running, never looking back.

He traveled, from one place to another, asking for money, asking for food. Someone would always give something to the poor beautiful gray eyed boy.

After sometime, he reached London. The big city had various places, many opportunities and many things to do. After some research, he found out his aunt was workin in a Theatre. One of the few working theatres in town, the Red Bull. She barely recognized him, but was very sad about what happened to her sister, Kazimir’s mother.

She gave him a job there. Not as an actor, but he could clean the chairs after the show, he could work the courtains and serve the nobles, all of that for just some coins. But from there, he got a place to live, right in front of the big Lincoln’s Inn Fields.

And soon his daylife was back into normal. No more tears, only vague memories. No more voices, only deep loneliness. But oh, how lucky he was, to have a place to live and some coins to help him eat. Everynight he would stand up and stare at the fields, the large dark trees moving through the wind and the shadows dancing together.

These shadows seemed to be calling him. And everynight, they kept their call.

When Kazimir was around tweenty years old, he stood to watch the shadows at night, just like he always did. But this time, something was really there. A big shaped shadow, not a disformed figure, nor a ghost. There was a man.

And this man was sating at him, just like he stared at the shadows before.

He wasn’t the voice. He wasn’t his old friend. But he was there, with the same cold comforting presence the voice always had. This man was there for him and just for him.

He changed and went down the poorly made stairs of this single room on the old house he lived. He walked through the streets, between the drunks and the whores. And then, there was that perfectly shaped shadow, right there, between the others, as if it was darker than any other.

Kazimir went closer to him and saw his figure. A tall man, with long black hair, fine nose, sharp blue eyes, srtong body, fully dressed in high quallity black velvet. This man was there just to pick him up and take him to where he belongs.

Many questions. None ever answered.

Kazimir was thrown in a dark cage, cold and wet. Locked behind iron bars, full covered in brownish moss and rust. And he was left there.

On the dungeons, he made his very first human friend. A blind boy, that reminded him so much about himself. Edward was a servant, blinded by his own master as punishment and then, sold away on the slave market. He played the violin, so perfectly, so beautifuly, but no one would ever listen. No one but Kazimir.

The boys were forced to clean the big castle halls. They had to wash the large glassy windows, brush the black marble floor and make sure they’ll never break anything.

Edward was always happy in serve, but Kazimir never accepted his condition and one day, he managed to escape. He ran through the halls and reached the backyard, on the winter garden, he slid through the roses and the lilies. Just when he thought he could cross the gate, he saw a woman.

She was distant, in the woods, hidden, staring at him. She was something like he never saw before. A strong woman, with fierce eyes and she could see directly into his soul. And in a whispered voice she warned he should go back. Tell them they were in danger.

And just like he would always do, he listened to the whispering voice as if it was a mother. He didn’t think twice and came back into the castle, to find out that Edward had been punished for Kazimir’s escape. The blind boy was tortured to tell where his human friend had gone. But Edward didn't speak, as he didn’t know what to say.

Kazimir was angry and returned to the Master of The Castle, asking for explanations. Magnus did not answer, as he never did. Just faced him with his cruel smile and ordered the guards to punish the boy for escaping, just like they did to the other human.

Between punches and kicks, Kazimir screamed the reason of his return. The voice said they were in danger.

And by “the voice”, the vampires understood. Kazimir was no ordinary boy. He could listen to them.

After this day, the punishments were over. Magnus gave Kazimir his own room and started teaching him what he needed to know about being a vampire.

Kazimir would never accept being turned into a vampire, but it never mattered to his Master. Magnus had chosen his Dark Child and was going to make him ready for the Blood.

The voice was right, they were in danger. And many of them died, fighting against the hunters.

During one of the fights, Kazimir was taken and wounded. He was left there to die, but his Master showed up, crawiling through the shadows and gave him the Shadows Embrace.

Seeing with the eyes of vampire felt like when he first saw the world. Everything was new, even more beautiful, even more impressive. And his Master… Well, he was the most perfect thing in the world.

Kazimir never really learned how to feed from humans. He hates to kill. Even though his Master insists he need to feed from fresh blood, Kazimir prefers to feed from Magnus’ dense dark blood, that’s so delicious for him.

The shadows are now his best friends, as he controls them with his dark gift. They dance on his hands like black fog and flow through his feet like dark water. He loves the shadows, even when they want to feed from his energy. Even when they feel like a disease.

And the voice…. The voice came back… They came back.

But it’s not the same as before. Now it is deeper, stronger and full of madness… This voice is scary, cold and motionless…. It’s the voice of the Devil himself… And everytime it speaks, Kazimir feels his heart stops, his body freezes and his senses blur. The only place where he is safe from the voice in inside his cruel Master’s arms.

Kazimir Van Den Berg

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