Christopher Stanton

Character Overview

Full Name: Christopher Stanton
Nickname/Alias: Klaus Störtebeker for the history buffs
Age: 650
Age apparent: 33
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Hetero
Occupation: CEO and sole owner of The Mackinac Financial Corporation, or mbank.
Languages: French, German, English and French Creole
Species: Advanced Master Vampire, aspiring MotC

Appearance

Height: 62
Weight:225
Eye Color: blue
Hair color:dark brown
Hair Style: right now, a bit long for a business man and spiked if he feels like not taming the cowlicks.
Complexion: tanned.
Body shape: Well muscled but not over done
Clothing: Business suits, custom tailored for work, even for casual days still in slacks or designer jeans and designer labels. You will never find him in torn jeans or random witty t-shirts.
Character Model:Chris Evans

Personality

Christopher is urbane, witty and completely in control. Like most in power, he oozes confidence whether it be with a level stare or the capture of interest and eyes as he walks into a room. It's not that arrogant ass vibe that some men give off, it is the air of a man who knows what he wants and goes after it. Most goals are attainable through sheer will and that is the sense you get as conversations and interactions proceed. There is something though that strikes those who meet him, a ruthlessness in the way the man approaches life, a sense that if needed, he will remove obstacles without prejudice, that lazy cruel streak that all predators give off. Chris will destroy anything and everything in his path should it be prudent.

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Sexual Likes: a woman who enjoys taking her time, total control over the other partner and bondage
Sexual Dislikes: toilet play, overly pushy women and women who think he can be conquered
Sexual Strengths: Stamina and the ability to totally focus on the partner till time fades
Sexual Weaknesses: Sensuality and his servant. She is fantasy made real for him.

Merits: Single minded, ruthless and will not stop till he attains his goals. He is completely without a conscience

Flaws: Arrogant and cruel, he has no problem destroying those who stand in his way. Will protect himself and his people at all costs despite outward consequences.

Character Motivations/Goals: Right now its about keeping his power base and saving Marquette from the power void that may tear it apart

History
Klaus Störtebeker came into this world on a stormy night in 1364. He had an ordinary childhood in Wismar, a port and Hanseatic League town in northern Germany on the Baltic Sea. Son of a merchant, he had no real standouts in those formative years, father was part of the Hanse, paid his dues and when his son was old enough, taught him the system. They traded with towns overseas, especially in the economically less-developed eastern Baltic. Wismar was a source of timber, wax, amber, resins, and furs, along with rye and wheat brought down on barges from the hinterland to port markets. The towns raised their own armies, with each guild required to provide levies when needed. The Hanseatic cities came to each other's aid, and commercial ships often had to be used to carry soldiers and their arms. It was on one of these ships that Chris found his first love, the sea. The spray, the creak of the mast, all fond memories that never left as he spent more and more time out at sea and less in Wismar. That set well with his father, already sure he was grooming his son to take over when the time came. Klaus had other ideas, seeing much more of a market in privateering. He helped form the Vitalian Brotherhood during the height of the dispute between Denmark and Sweden. Queen Margaret I of Denmark and Albert of Mecklenburg were battling for Scandinavian supremacy , Margaret imprisoning Albert and his son in order to subdue the Kingdom of Sweden. She laid siege on Stockholm and the Vitalians were hired in 1392 by the Dukes of Mecklenburg to fight against Denmark, engaging their forces at sea and getting supplies to the city through the Queens armada. The Vitalian Brothers were organized as a guild and attracted men from all over Europe to their questionable ranks. Most of the Hanseatic towns had no desire for a victory for Denmark, with its strategic location for control of the seaways. The situation seemed made for Klaus and with his ship and another pair under his command, they raised hell with shipping and trade routes and turned to open piracy and plundered Bergen, Turku, Vyborg, Faxeholm, Styresholm and Korsholm and occupied parts of Frisia and Schleswig. By 1394, Klaus and his merry band occupied Gotland, setting up their headquarters in Visby. Trade in the Baltic Sea virtually collapsed, forcing Queen Margaret to turn to King Richard II of England and seeking to charter English ships to combat the pirates. With his help she united Denmark, Sweden and Norway and formed the Kalmar Union. The Hanseatic League was forced to cooperate with her and its support of Klaus declined along with its power. He responded by impartially raiding everyone's shipping, t heir famous battle cry was "God's friends and the whole world's enemies". Queen Margaret and King Albert of Sweden conceded Gotland to the allied Teutonic Order as a pledge to drive the pirates out of the Baltic sea completely. An invasion army under Konrad von Jungingen, the Grand Master of the Order, conquered the island in 1398, destroying Visby and driving the Victual Brothers out of Gotland. In 1401, a Hamburgian fleet led by Simon of Utrecht caught up with Störtebeker's force near Heligoland as they sought to find another home base. Klauss ship had been disabled by a traitor who cast molten lead into the links of the chain which controlled the ship's rudder and leading to his capture and brought to Hamburg, where they were tried for piracy. Legend says that Klaus offered a chain of gold long enough to enclose the whole of Hamburg in exchange for his life and freedom. However, Störtebeker and all of his 73 companions were sentenced to death and were beheaded on the Grasbrook. So says history. In reality, it was 72 who died in Grasbrook that day. Klaus, like the rest of his men, had spent the night in the Grasbrook gaol, the head man himself far removed from the niceties of life hed become accustomed to. But hed garnered a following of sorts among the people and the town swelled with interested spectators, many laborers from surrounding communities, one in particular more interested in what made Klaus a formidable opponent. Sarracino, an old child of the Dragon had not missed the swath cut by Klaus, finding the ruthless qualities in the man something needed to survive what he had in mind. It was not a new ship, new crew, new enemies to fight though that was part of the ultimate plan. The vampire had never taken one as childe before and the search of a century ended as he stood among a crowd, hearing sentence delivered with the rest of the peasant class. He charmed, hypnotized and plain forced his way into the gaol that night, removing Klaus with a singular intensity and giving him a choice, step over into the next world or die. No fool, Klaus agreed to the Faustian deal and within days rose as one of the Nachtzehrer, night waster, baby vampire with a lust for blood and other, more carnal hungers Sarracino and Klaus travelled Europe for half a century or so, the elder of the pair teaching Klaus how to survive, the ways of his new found self and the powers that came with the change. Control, manipulation and planning with the realization that life didnt end, it was a fluid stream that could be shaped and changed till the end result was culmination of all desires. And for Klaus and his maker, it always came back to one single enterprise, piracy. The late 14th century brought Tunisian corsairs, the original Barbary pirates into the public eye and they became enough of a threat to draw Moorish exiles of the Reconquista and Maghreb pirates to their numbers. The expansion of the Ottoman Empire and the arrival of the privateer and admiral Kemal Reis in 1487 that made the Barbary corsairs a true menace to Christian shipping, the driving mind behind their inner workings Klaus and Sarracino. With Sarracinos powers and Klaus expertise, the man would be a singular figure in history. Kemal Reis started his career as the commander of the naval fleet belonging to the Sanjak Bey of Eğriboz which was under Ottoman control. In 1487 the Ottoman Sultan Bayezid II appointed Kemal Reis with the task of defending the lands of Emir Abu Abdullah, the ruler of Granada, which was then one of the final Muslim strongholds in Spain. Kemal Reis sailed to Spain and captured Malaga, then raided the coastal settlements, before landing his troops near Pisa in Italy. From there, under Sarracinos influence and Klaus direction, he once again went to Andalucia and in several occasions between 1490 and 1492 transported the Muslims and Jews who wished to escape Spain to the provinces of the Ottoman Empire which welcomed them. The Muslims and Jews of Spain contributed much to the rising power of the Ottoman Empire by introducing new ideas, methods and craftsmanship that filled the pockets of the maker and childe many times over. They stayed there through the late sixteenth century, mining conflicts with Spain and England to their benefit and using techniques Klaus perfected in his run in the Baltic Sea. The defeat of the Spanish Armada by the English navy in the Battle of Gravelines was the death knell for the pair in that area but their involvement provided even more valuable seafaring experience for Klaus and Sarracino, who decided to move their enterprises to more lucrative waters with a pair of loyal crews who had the same thirst for wealth the vampires did. Kept under tight control by the two men, the two ships, Poisonous Fortune and The Cour Ranger, headed to warmer waters and richer cargos in the Caribbean Sea. In an honest Service, there is thin Commons, low Wages, and hard Labour; in this, Plenty and Satiety, Pleasure and Ease, Liberty and Power; and who would not balance Creditor on this Side, when all the Hazard that is run for it, at worst, is only a sower Look or two at choaking. No, a merry Life and a short one shall be my Motto. Pirate Captain Bartholomew Roberts If it could be said anyone took those words to heart, Klaus and Sarracino made the quote a notion to live by. When they arrived in Caribbean waters, they joined forces with François Le Clerc also nicknamed "Jambe de bois", a formidable privateer. In 1552, Le Clerc, Sarracino and Klaus ransacked Porto Santo. One year later, they mustered one thousand men and caused havoc in the Caribbean, pillaging and burning down the seaport of Santo Domingo, and ransacking Las Palmas in the Canary Islands on their way back to France to pay the required tribute to the then king of France Henry II. With a French letter of Marque, the three cut a swathe through the islands, taking what they wanted and leaving the rest. The Anglo-Spanish War in 15851604 was partly due to trade disputes in the New World. A focus on extracting mineral and agricultural wealth from the New World rather than building productive, self-sustaining settlements in its colonies, endless rounds of expensive wars in Europe and an aristocracy that belittled commercial opportunities as beneath them all contributed to Spain's decline from power during the 17th century but didnt make a dent in the very profitable trade between its colonies and Spain's overseas empire. It tripled the targets for the three pirates and they kept filling the coffers at an amazing rate, becoming legend as they pillaged and plundered the almost defenseless Spanish settlements with ease and with little interference from the European governments back home who were too worried about their own problems at home to turn much attention to their New World colonies. Sarracino eventually turned Le Clerc and the three continued along the same vein for nearly a century, working for one country or the next depending on the terms and cut of the profits. As the 17th century ended and the golden age of piracy began, the island of Jamaica had been taken over by England and its chief settlement of Port Royal had become a new English buccaneer haven in the midst of the Spanish Empire. Jamaica was slowly transformed, along with Saint Kitts, into the heart of the English presence in the Caribbean. The French also maintained privateering strongholds around western Hispaniola, at their traditional pirate port of Tortuga, and their Hispaniolan capital of Petit-Goâve. This found our trio of buccaneers a heavy presence in these glorious waters, picking and choosing which ships to take though they had come to favor the English in particular and flipping a coin to decide what settlements to raze. But all was not well with the three pirates, Le Clerc getting more and more reckless. His choice of targets questionable at best and the danger level and loss of life didnt really weigh out fairly when it came to cuts from vessels that fell to the crews deadly intent. More and more of the crew fell victim to the poor planning, the half assed attacks without intelligence that lead to uneven battles where the victor became more and more like a crap shoot and less like a planned strike. It didnt take long for the end game to reveal itself. Mutiny, self-preservation winning out over the glamour that had up until then kept the crew in line. Le Clerc fell first, staked and beheaded while sleeping just before the sun had set on a stormy Caribbean day. Klaus had been next in line but the crew had made a fatal mistake in assuming dusks timeline with the coming tempest. Sarracino rose with the setting sun, hidden among the fog and rain, dealing death as Klaus too escaped final death by helping his maker cut a bloody swathe through their traitorous crew. But the tropical fury brewing exploded across the already stormy seas, sending the crewless ship adrift, the pair of vampires unable to do the work of so many despite leaving a handful of their compatriots alive. Wind and rain drove it, snapping the mainsail like a twig as the vessel drifted at the mercy of the fates themselves, driving the ship and the few crew still alive onto the reefs and rocks of the Hispaniola coast. The tides took a singular mercy on Klaus, guiding him towards the sand with half a dozen of the humans that had helped bring the disaster to fruition. They did not last long as the voracious vampire rose from the surf, hungry, enraged and lusting for blood, falling one at a time as they crawled to the safety of that white sandy beach. Bent over the last of the six, draining the final few beats of a heart, a flash of white caught his eye. Ever the predator, he moved before thinking, coming up on the one thing that didnt belong on that sandy expanse of shoreline, a woman, small and dark and stumbling in the confusion of the wreck as flotsam was tossed up on shore among the slowly cooling dead. Only when he had nearly closed the distance did her stance stop him, halting the preventative charge and saving the girls life in what amounted to nothing more than chance. Hand outstretched, eyes staring not at the corpses but into the air above them did it dawn on him that the female was blind. Was it mercy that stemmed that final attack? Perhaps, or perhaps it was the delicate line of jaw, the contained strength at the horror that she could not see but only sense through touch and the vague essence of death that floated on the night air. Whatever it had been, Klaus hushed her softly, assuming French considering the islands where they sailed and laid the first hand on muslin covered skin. A charge sizzled, bringing Klaus senses into focus on not the beautiful face but the aura under it, sign of something more than the usual call of blood and flesh. Ability, latent talent all encased in a captivating package. This was a prize worth savoring, gentle cultivation instead of headstrong thrust ahead. He helped her up, murmuring softly as scent led him to her door, leaving her bemused and no longer startled at the front door of the small house she called home. One compulsion before disappearing into the night, the touch of lips on that smooth forehead, the spicy sweetness of the islands and skin on his mouth. Intoxicating as the electricity flowed with touch, that was the beginning. Klaus found haven in the daylight house among the caves along the shorelines, empty limestone tunnels that went deep enough to discourage exploration and high enough that threat of flooding was null. Blood was easy enough, slaves populated the whole expanse of Hispaniola and the majority browbeaten enough to be fairly weakminded. The shipwreck was soon forgotten, the waters and brigands who sailed them made it fairly unremarkable, assumption that they were yet another ship fallen victim to pirates a given. The girl though, that vision in white from the first night on the beach, the image of her lingered after he went to ground, scent clinging to the lace at his cuffs till nothing occupied his mind save that delectable taste of her silky skin. After dark, night after night, fully fed and content, Klaus lingered close to those tiny slave quarters, catching glimpses of Seraphine through warped glass when the harridan of a relative relaxed her guard or shadowing the blind woman on a nightly excursions. Even not knowing her name, she captivated his senses, the way she moved, the peaceful expression that never seemed to fade. Klaus couldnt let go, couldnt seem to move forward, find another berth and move to richer waters. It took no more than a day or two to force the right help and garner fresh clothing, pristine white and elegant brocade in the richest of materials and shades. A carriage to complete the image thanks to a local farrier with dim servants and Klaus had entrance to the Haber de Venture Plantation as visiting minor nobility, French flawless and manners impeccable. Rolling staff and family took little and the vampire was a fixture within a week of being driven in by the storm. The next glimpse of his little treasure across a table in the main house, the servants called to extra duty because of such a privileged guest. So close, a pile of vibrant blooms on the hall banquet as with those eyes fixed on a point only she could see, her nimble fingers put one after the other into a tall vase. Sera had not forgotten that moment on the beach, the touch something nearly physical with the caress of the strangers hands and mouth in what had seemed at the time the most innocent of exchanges. Dreams, disjointed sometimes, others it was specific, that voice again, whispering in her ear, hands on the curves of her body. So real and Seraphine had a hard time focusing as if sensing the vampire close at hand. At times it was nearly a physical sensation of eyes on her as she sat near the fire at night or when she managed to slip Manons watchful eyes to walk on the beach after the rest of the staff had slipped off to bed. It was a restlessness fueled by fantasy, image after image of what face might have been attached to the voice, what body to that gentle hand. It was complete surprise that one night while others prepared dinner the self same voice drifted in from the terrace. Seraphine had stilled in surprise, but nothing prepared her for the sense of the man so close she could smell the soap on him, the cologne tickling her nose. Claudine, the second daughter of the house had led him in, tone a mix of flirtation and irritation as she responded to that male voice that asked for the name of the pretty girl arranging flowers by the wide open door. Seraphine . Klaus could not hide the smile. Of course, no ordinary name for this creature, no this one carrying the sobriquet of an angel and despite convention he introduced himself, Christophe-Louis de Neufville, duc de Villeroy, a name remembered from some captured ships roster. Capturing that free hand, lips brushed it. Seraphine startled, both from the introduction and the touch of another knocked the vase over, sending water splashing onto the spotless tile floor. Claudine reacted with what smacked of jealous fury, snapping her fan closed and directing the ivory spine towards Seras knuckles. His hand appeared, blocking the blow with a crushing grip on the girls fingers, two words stilling both women, Never again. Voice cold, Klaus send Claudine to the dining room like a pet dog, turn of her head revealing the twin marks at the base of her throat that had been hidden by a high lace collar. Once left alone, he turned Seras wrist over, letting his mouth linger on the fluttering beat of her heart just under the skin, inhale filling senses with her smell, some soap that was heavy with jasmine, sweet musk of the woman beneath and that added hit of fear. Like heaven. Klaus shuddered as teeth slide along silken flesh but didnt break the surface, urges rising that the man inside struggled to contain as eyes closed. How easy would it be, to take what he wanted from this singular soul, right here in the hallway with the family so fully under his sway they wouldnt say a word. The impulse was there, drive to pull those heavy skirts up to delve underneath, find the sumptuous flesh and capture it as surely as he had the Viards. The second that mouth touched the tender skin of her wrist, Sera froze. Never had a male taken such liberties and it took her breath away. Horrified by her own reaction, she lay under Klaus grip like a frightened bird, pulse pounding as with a startled tremor pictures flooded her mind almost too fast to see them, images of limbs entwined, caramel of her own skin and the sun washed gold of a mans hard body. The reaction was unbidden, innocent yet carnal as arousal surrounded them with the sweetest of tangs, her own desire betraying her in an instant. Sera tried to jerk free but only succeeded in sending the vase crashing to the floor as her knees gave way. This was dream made real, gift startling with the accuracy as the graze of that firm mouth on her skin brought a darkness up from within. Desire, lust, so many names but like in that vision she fell like a ripe plum into a devils embrace. Klaus caught her on the way down, arms trapping the lush body, finding warmth and hair like silk tangled in his hands. This time his mouth found the pulse just below the ear, pressing lightly before hissing a promise against that fluttering beat, Au calme tout-petit, tu es à moi. Hush little one you are mine. The longing only grew more intense as the gentle weight seemed to fit perfectly in his grip, petite and yet perfectly formed, curves in all the right places. Every iota of control summoned to allow his arms to relax and not pull Seraphine closer when nothing seemed right save laying her out on the marble floor and removing every scrap of fabric with a teasing slowness. Klaus didnt need to breathe but he found himself exhaling sharply as reluctantly he let her go. Could you feel trapped when nothing seemed to motivate to leave what seemed like a home once seen through a mist and now found to be real? Seraphine hadnt really expected him to catch her, but the moment those arms wrapped around her, the thought of escape seemed to evaporate like very moral instilled by her grandmere Manon. Christophes touch made skin enflame, body tightening down low, in places that had never heated so fast in her short life. Her head fell back as that mouth descended, as if instinct drove the woman, a knowing of what he was and what lay ahead. Living in darkness each sensation tripled, mouth warm on her neck, those whispered words making the once lax fingers dig into the silken brocade of the jacket under which hard muscle flexed as inexorably the man pulled her closer. Every inch of him seemed hewn from stone, no softness like the Viard men but the rock hard muscle of a life of harsh conditions and brutality. With the touch came a painful rain of shadowy pictures, the other side of the creature who held her, the ruthless killer who inhuman deeds couldnt be hidden from one whos sight expanded past the real world on either side of time. The end result, a terrified Seraphine scrambling backwards on hands and a skirt covered bottom, not realizing shed found the vase in its disassembled state. Sharpness on unprotected palms and a spill of crimson on the right side as the glass bit deep, making her cry out and halt her retreat. Desire too thick to wade through turned to horror, making the delectable little woman even more attractive, pulse of the heart like thunder as she skittered away on the floor. Then the aroma of copper, sweetness of blood as it seeped from the cuts and Klaus was on her, eyes bleeding out till blue shone bright, pupil gone as blood lust rose to blanket sexual need. No effort needed to bring Seraphines slight form out of the glass and into his embrace once again, wrists gripped in one hand while the other yanked her firmly into him, pinning her savagely with no hope of fighting free. Releasing the uninjured hand, Klaus picked the first shard out of her flesh, sucking it clean and leaving lips reddened with blood. Three other pieces followed before he raised her palm up and finished the job with sensual laps of what many a female could attest to was a very talented tongue as he pulled her tighter with an arm around her. The fingers at the small of her back moved upward, diving into the soft waves of ebon hair and yanking Seraphines head back, exposing the jugular till the throbbing vein drew taut and he could see every beat of her heart. Klaus dark head dropped and he let fangs just lay there, fighting for composure while every fiber of his being screamed at him to rend fabric from those soft curves and sink into her in every way possible. Shed held her hands up, palms outstretched to block though Seraphine couldnt see the attack coming till her body was airborne, landing against Klaus so hard the breath was knocked from her. Dizziness as the tender grip turned relentless, pressing her closer and eliminating any hope of escape. The sting of the glass disappeared as Klaus removed them one at a time, then the air in her lungs froze as the sensation of him licking the cuts made the tremor in her body increase threefold. Her gift lay open, juxtaposition of future and now, fear and intense longing tearing at her, shredding reason and sense and laying open salacious needs unknown and buried till this second. Dread lay there but so did a rising a hunger, a want for Klaus to do what even now bombarded her inner eye with lascivious flashes of skin and sex. Shuddering, the unthinkable happened, feeling overriding self-preservation as the last reserve of her own control fell away. Seraphine relaxed, tense muscles softened as the hand on his chest trying to push him away traveled up to plunge into the hair at Klaus nape. A whimper as lips parted, No, please.. Was it begging for mercy or a simple request to not take her like this. Its like the movement traveled from her to him, that shudder passing to shake his own body as the painful grip lessened, gentleness as Klaus released the injured hand to gather Seraphine closer. Threatening posture fading, sensuality taking over as the clenched fingers in soft curls relaxed to let her neck unbend and allow for lips and fangs to drag over that silken expanse. Mon cur, ma vie, mon sang. Tu es à moi. The growl vibrated along her skin as Klaus finally chained the monster inside down, eyes fading back to a soft blue as humanity returned. He stood, keeping her still till he could gently place her on her feet. Combing that thick mass of hair back into some semblance of order, a flick of the wrist found a handkerchief being tied around the wounds on her palm then without warning he kissed her, quick exploration that begged for more then released her with a single entreaty. Come to the beach tonight. And she did, much to Manon's dismay. The old woman did her best to dissuade the girl but the child was determined, swearing it was more than just the power of the monster that held her under it's spell. Seraphine had heeded the god given gifts for a long time and never once had she questioned the veracity. This man, no matter what flavor was her future. So when dusk fell, Grandmere's pleading fell on deaf ears. Seraphine melted into the night, following a path well worn since her childhood. Klaus/Christophe waited, bare chested and immune to the chill off the water. Arms crossed, stance more suited to the deck of a ship he watched Seraphine approach, catching her before she stepped too far onto the sand. "Mine." In English this time, strong arms swept her up, carrying her to where the fine coverlets from the house lay spread out, gleaming white in the moonlight. He bestowed the first mark there, within yards of the surf and in the warm breezes of the Caribbean night and took her innocence as well. More nights passed, turning into weeks as Klaus kept his iron hold on the Viard clan while seducing the winsome Seraphine. The second mark, then the third as bonds between the two wove tighter and tighter. If possible, his obsession deepened while her emotions became eternally entwined with the ruthless buccaneer. Klaus was now Christophe, already gathering the supplies and monies required for a new start with the seer at his side. By now, piracy was waning and he needed a new venture. It seemed prudent to head to a locale that knew nothing of his fairly legendary exploits and under the next full moon, Christophe gave the final mark and the pair left Hispaniola for good and headed to the new world. Avoiding the English seemed prudent so they headed towards French controlled territory up in the northern territories of the new world. There, on the upper peninsula of what would become the state of Michigan, Christophe found an ally in the most powerful vampire in the region, Marius. With the man's blessing, life on the water called stronger than anything save the siren Seraphine's temptations. He began a series of barges for movement of supplies and later troops during the French and Indian war. The business grew, enough to settle his servant in luxury while he expanded to cover most of the Great Lakes. When the French ceded the territory in 1763, Christophe owned vast tracts of lands that remained untouched but uncontested as boundaries moved, control of the area waffled between the Canadians, the Americans and the British. He and Marius were silent partners in the Erie canal in 1825, shipping from the Atlantic all the way up the great lake basin putting even more money in the kiss' coffers. Copper and iron mining developed, in 1848 the Michigan and Illinois canals opened, giving Christophe control of shipping from NYC to New Orleans. He reinvented himself and his servant multiple times, new names, businesses from shipping to copper mining to lumber, always part of Marius' kiss and always with Seraphine at his side. When Y2K rolled around, Christophe was Christopher Stanton, CEO and sole owner of The Mackinac Financial Corporation in the state of Michigan with their headquarters located in Marquette. With impressive influence, he helped keep Marius' image squeaky clean and became a lesser celebrity in the process. When the shit hits the proverbial fan in 2012, Chris is there as support for the kiss and parades the well known Seraphine as a friend of the kiss and devoted public servant. While it helps to some extent, it is not enough to stem the tides that rip the preternatural community apart. He goes underground and takes Seraphine with him, protecting her and his own people while continuing to run mbank from a well protected location. It is only recently that he is once again moving into the public eye, more worried about the state of the city now then before. Seraphine has seen problems on the horizon and he is willing to do what it takes to keep the powder keg that is Marquette from exploding and taking all of them with it.

History

Klaus Störtebeker came into this world on a stormy night in 1364. He had an ordinary childhood in Wismar, a port and Hanseatic League town in northern Germany on the Baltic Sea. Son of a merchant, he had no real standouts in those formative years, father was part of the Hanse, paid his dues and when his son was old enough, taught him the system. They traded with towns overseas, especially in the economically less-developed eastern Baltic. Wismar was a source of timber, wax, amber, resins, and furs, along with rye and wheat brought down on barges from the hinterland to port markets. The towns raised their own armies, with each guild required to provide levies when needed. The Hanseatic cities came to each other's aid, and commercial ships often had to be used to carry soldiers and their arms. It was on one of these ships that Chris found his first love, the sea. The spray, the creak of the mast, all fond memories that never left as he spent more and more time out at sea and less in Wismar.

That set well with his father, already sure he was grooming his son to take over when the time came. Klaus had other ideas, seeing much more of a market in privateering. He helped form the Vitalian Brotherhood during the height of the dispute between Denmark and Sweden. Queen Margaret I of Denmark and Albert of Mecklenburg were battling for Scandinavian supremacy , Margaret imprisoning Albert and his son in order to subdue the Kingdom of Sweden. She laid siege on Stockholm and the Vitalians were hired in 1392 by the Dukes of Mecklenburg to fight against Denmark, engaging their forces at sea and getting supplies to the city through the Queens armada.

The Vitalian Brothers were organized as a guild and attracted men from all over Europe to their questionable ranks. Most of the Hanseatic towns had no desire for a victory for Denmark, with its strategic location for control of the seaways. The situation seemed made for Klaus and with his ship and another pair under his command, they raised hell with shipping and trade routes and turned to open piracy and plundered Bergen, Turku, Vyborg, Faxeholm, Styresholm and Korsholm and occupied parts of Frisia and Schleswig.

By 1394, Klaus and his merry band occupied Gotland, setting up their headquarters in Visby. Trade in the Baltic Sea virtually collapsed, forcing Queen Margaret to turn to King Richard II of England and seeking to charter English ships to combat the pirates. With his help she united Denmark, Sweden and Norway and formed the Kalmar Union. The Hanseatic League was forced to cooperate with her and its support of Klaus declined along with its power. He responded by impartially raiding everyone's shipping, t heir famous battle cry was "God's friends and the whole world's enemies". Queen Margaret and King Albert of Sweden conceded Gotland to the allied Teutonic Order as a pledge to drive the pirates out of the Baltic sea completely. An invasion army under Konrad von Jungingen, the Grand Master of the Order, conquered the island in 1398, destroying Visby and driving the Victual Brothers out of Gotland.

In 1401, a Hamburgian fleet led by Simon of Utrecht caught up with Störtebeker's force near Heligoland as they sought to find another home base. Klauss ship had been disabled by a traitor who cast molten lead into the links of the chain which controlled the ship's rudder and leading to his capture and brought to Hamburg, where they were tried for piracy. Legend says that Klaus offered a chain of gold long enough to enclose the whole of Hamburg in exchange for his life and freedom. However, Störtebeker and all of his 73 companions were sentenced to death and were beheaded on the Grasbrook.

So says history. In reality, it was 72 who died in Grasbrook that day. Klaus, like the rest of his men, had spent the night in the Grasbrook gaol, the head man himself far removed from the niceties of life hed become accustomed to. But hed garnered a following of sorts among the people and the town swelled with interested spectators, many laborers from surrounding communities, one in particular more interested in what made Klaus a formidable opponent.

Sarracino, an old child of the Dragon had not missed the swath cut by Klaus, finding the ruthless qualities in the man something needed to survive what he had in mind. It was not a new ship, new crew, new enemies to fight though that was part of the ultimate plan. The vampire had never taken one as childe before and the search of a century ended as he stood among a crowd, hearing sentence delivered with the rest of the peasant class. He charmed, hypnotized and plain forced his way into the gaol that night, removing Klaus with a singular intensity and giving him a choice, step over into the next world or die. No fool, Klaus agreed to the Faustian deal and within days rose as one of the Nachtzehrer, night waster, baby vampire with a lust for blood and other, more carnal hungers

Sarracino and Klaus travelled Europe for half a century or so, the elder of the pair teaching Klaus how to survive, the ways of his new found self and the powers that came with the change. Control, manipulation and planning with the realization that life didnt end, it was a fluid stream that could be shaped and changed till the end result was culmination of all desires. And for Klaus and his maker, it always came back to one single enterprise, piracy.

The late 14th century brought Tunisian corsairs, the original Barbary pirates into the public eye and they became enough of a threat to draw Moorish exiles of the Reconquista and Maghreb pirates to their numbers. The expansion of the Ottoman Empire and the arrival of the privateer and admiral Kemal Reis in 1487 that made the Barbary corsairs a true menace to Christian shipping, the driving mind behind their inner workings Klaus and Sarracino. With Sarracinos powers and Klaus expertise, the man would be a singular figure in history.

Kemal Reis started his career as the commander of the naval fleet belonging to the Sanjak Bey of Eğriboz which was under Ottoman control. In 1487 the Ottoman Sultan Bayezid II appointed Kemal Reis with the task of defending the lands of Emir Abu Abdullah, the ruler of Granada, which was then one of the final Muslim strongholds in Spain. Kemal Reis sailed to Spain and captured Malaga, then raided the coastal settlements, before landing his troops near Pisa in Italy. From there, under Sarracinos influence and Klaus direction, he once again went to Andalucia and in several occasions between 1490 and 1492 transported the Muslims and Jews who wished to escape Spain to the provinces of the Ottoman Empire which welcomed them. The Muslims and Jews of Spain contributed much to the rising power of the Ottoman Empire by introducing new ideas, methods and craftsmanship that filled the pockets of the maker and childe many times over. They stayed there through the late sixteenth century, mining conflicts with Spain and England to their benefit and using techniques Klaus perfected in his run in the Baltic Sea. The defeat of the Spanish Armada by the English navy in the Battle of Gravelines was the death knell for the pair in that area but their involvement provided even more valuable seafaring experience for Klaus and Sarracino, who decided to move their enterprises to more lucrative waters with a pair of loyal crews who had the same thirst for wealth the vampires did. Kept under tight control by the two men, the two ships, Poisonous Fortune and The Cour Ranger, headed to warmer waters and richer cargos in the Caribbean Sea.

In an honest Service, there is thin Commons, low Wages, and hard Labour; in this, Plenty and Satiety, Pleasure and Ease, Liberty and Power; and who would not balance Creditor on this Side, when all the Hazard that is run for it, at worst, is only a sower Look or two at choaking. No, a merry Life and a short one shall be my Motto.
Pirate Captain Bartholomew Roberts

If it could be said anyone took those words to heart, Klaus and Sarracino made the quote a notion to live by. When they arrived in Caribbean waters, they joined forces with François Le Clerc also nicknamed "Jambe de bois", a formidable privateer. In 1552, Le Clerc, Sarracino and Klaus ransacked Porto Santo. One year later, they mustered one thousand men and caused havoc in the Caribbean, pillaging and burning down the seaport of Santo Domingo, and ransacking Las Palmas in the Canary Islands on their way back to France to pay the required tribute to the then king of France Henry II. With a French letter of Marque, the three cut a swathe through the islands, taking what they wanted and leaving the rest. The Anglo-Spanish War in 15851604 was partly due to trade disputes in the New World. A focus on extracting mineral and agricultural wealth from the New World rather than building productive, self-sustaining settlements in its colonies, endless rounds of expensive wars in Europe and an aristocracy that belittled commercial opportunities as beneath them all contributed to Spain's decline from power during the 17th century but didnt make a dent in the very profitable trade between its colonies and Spain's overseas empire. It tripled the targets for the three pirates and they kept filling the coffers at an amazing rate, becoming legend as they pillaged and plundered the almost defenseless Spanish settlements with ease and with little interference from the European governments back home who were too worried about their own problems at home to turn much attention to their New World colonies. Sarracino eventually turned Le Clerc and the three continued along the same vein for nearly a century, working for one country or the next depending on the terms and cut of the profits.

As the 17th century ended and the golden age of piracy began, the island of Jamaica had been taken over by England and its chief settlement of Port Royal had become a new English buccaneer haven in the midst of the Spanish Empire. Jamaica was slowly transformed, along with Saint Kitts, into the heart of the English presence in the Caribbean. The French also maintained privateering strongholds around western Hispaniola, at their traditional pirate port of Tortuga, and their Hispaniolan capital of Petit-Goâve. This found our trio of buccaneers a heavy presence in these glorious waters, picking and choosing which ships to take though they had come to favor the English in particular and flipping a coin to decide what settlements to raze.

But all was not well with the three pirates, Le Clerc getting more and more reckless. His choice of targets questionable at best and the danger level and loss of life didnt really weigh out fairly when it came to cuts from vessels that fell to the crews deadly intent. More and more of the crew fell victim to the poor planning, the half assed attacks without intelligence that lead to uneven battles where the victor became more and more like a crap shoot and less like a planned strike. It didnt take long for the end game to reveal itself. Mutiny, self-preservation winning out over the glamour that had up until then kept the crew in line. Le Clerc fell first, staked and beheaded while sleeping just before the sun had set on a stormy Caribbean day. Klaus had been next in line but the crew had made a fatal mistake in assuming dusks timeline with the coming tempest. Sarracino rose with the setting sun, hidden among the fog and rain, dealing death as Klaus too escaped final death by helping his maker cut a bloody swathe through their traitorous crew. But the tropical fury brewing exploded across the already stormy seas, sending the crewless ship adrift, the pair of vampires unable to do the work of so many despite leaving a handful of their compatriots alive. Wind and rain drove it, snapping the mainsail like a twig as the vessel drifted at the mercy of the fates themselves, driving the ship and the few crew still alive onto the reefs and rocks of the Hispaniola coast.

The tides took a singular mercy on Klaus, guiding him towards the sand with half a dozen of the humans that had helped bring the disaster to fruition. They did not last long as the voracious vampire rose from the surf, hungry, enraged and lusting for blood, falling one at a time as they crawled to the safety of that white sandy beach. Bent over the last of the six, draining the final few beats of a heart, a flash of white caught his eye. Ever the predator, he moved before thinking, coming up on the one thing that didnt belong on that sandy expanse of shoreline, a woman, small and dark and stumbling in the confusion of the wreck as flotsam was tossed up on shore among the slowly cooling dead.

Only when he had nearly closed the distance did her stance stop him, halting the preventative charge and saving the girls life in what amounted to nothing more than chance. Hand outstretched, eyes staring not at the corpses but into the air above them did it dawn on him that the female was blind. Was it mercy that stemmed that final attack? Perhaps, or perhaps it was the delicate line of jaw, the contained strength at the horror that she could not see but only sense through touch and the vague essence of death that floated on the night air. Whatever it had been, Klaus hushed her softly, assuming French considering the islands where they sailed and laid the first hand on muslin covered skin.

A charge sizzled, bringing Klaus senses into focus on not the beautiful face but the aura under it, sign of something more than the usual call of blood and flesh. Ability, latent talent all encased in a captivating package. This was a prize worth savoring, gentle cultivation instead of headstrong thrust ahead. He helped her up, murmuring softly as scent led him to her door, leaving her bemused and no longer startled at the front door of the small house she called home. One compulsion before disappearing into the night, the touch of lips on that smooth forehead, the spicy sweetness of the islands and skin on his mouth. Intoxicating as the electricity flowed with touch, that was the beginning.

Klaus found haven in the daylight house among the caves along the shorelines, empty limestone tunnels that went deep enough to discourage exploration and high enough that threat of flooding was null. Blood was easy enough, slaves populated the whole expanse of Hispaniola and the majority browbeaten enough to be fairly weakminded. The shipwreck was soon forgotten, the waters and brigands who sailed them made it fairly unremarkable, assumption that they were yet another ship fallen victim to pirates a given.

The girl though, that vision in white from the first night on the beach, the image of her lingered after he went to ground, scent clinging to the lace at his cuffs till nothing occupied his mind save that delectable taste of her silky skin. After dark, night after night, fully fed and content, Klaus lingered close to those tiny slave quarters, catching glimpses of Seraphine through warped glass when the harridan of a relative relaxed her guard or shadowing the blind woman on a nightly excursions. Even not knowing her name, she captivated his senses, the way she moved, the peaceful expression that never seemed to fade. Klaus couldnt let go, couldnt seem to move forward, find another berth and move to richer waters. It took no more than a day or two to force the right help and garner fresh clothing, pristine white and elegant brocade in the richest of materials and shades. A carriage to complete the image thanks to a local farrier with dim servants and Klaus had entrance to the Haber de Venture Plantation as visiting minor nobility, French flawless and manners impeccable. Rolling staff and family took little and the vampire was a fixture within a week of being driven in by the storm. The next glimpse of his little treasure across a table in the main house, the servants called to extra duty because of such a privileged guest. So close, a pile of vibrant blooms on the hall banquet as with those eyes fixed on a point only she could see, her nimble fingers put one after the other into a tall vase.

Sera had not forgotten that moment on the beach, the touch something nearly physical with the caress of the strangers hands and mouth in what had seemed at the time the most innocent of exchanges. Dreams, disjointed sometimes, others it was specific, that voice again, whispering in her ear, hands on the curves of her body. So real and Seraphine had a hard time focusing as if sensing the vampire close at hand. At times it was nearly a physical sensation of eyes on her as she sat near the fire at night or when she managed to slip Manons watchful eyes to walk on the beach after the rest of the staff had slipped off to bed. It was a restlessness fueled by fantasy, image after image of what face might have been attached to the voice, what body to that gentle hand.

It was complete surprise that one night while others prepared dinner the self same voice drifted in from the terrace. Seraphine had stilled in surprise, but nothing prepared her for the sense of the man so close she could smell the soap on him, the cologne tickling her nose. Claudine, the second daughter of the house had led him in, tone a mix of flirtation and irritation as she responded to that male voice that asked for the name of the pretty girl arranging flowers by the wide open door.
Seraphine . Klaus could not hide the smile. Of course, no ordinary name for this creature, no this one carrying the sobriquet of an angel and despite convention he introduced himself, Christophe-Louis de Neufville, duc de Villeroy, a name remembered from some captured ships roster. Capturing that free hand, lips brushed it.

Seraphine startled, both from the introduction and the touch of another knocked the vase over, sending water splashing onto the spotless tile floor. Claudine reacted with what smacked of jealous fury, snapping her fan closed and directing the ivory spine towards Seras knuckles.

His hand appeared, blocking the blow with a crushing grip on the girls fingers, two words stilling both women, Never again. Voice cold, Klaus send Claudine to the dining room like a pet dog, turn of her head revealing the twin marks at the base of her throat that had been hidden by a high lace collar. Once left alone, he turned Seras wrist over, letting his mouth linger on the fluttering beat of her heart just under the skin, inhale filling senses with her smell, some soap that was heavy with jasmine, sweet musk of the woman beneath and that added hit of fear. Like heaven. Klaus shuddered as teeth slide along silken flesh but didnt break the surface, urges rising that the man inside struggled to contain as eyes closed. How easy would it be, to take what he wanted from this singular soul, right here in the hallway with the family so fully under his sway they wouldnt say a word. The impulse was there, drive to pull those heavy skirts up to delve underneath, find the sumptuous flesh and capture it as surely as he had the Viards.

The second that mouth touched the tender skin of her wrist, Sera froze. Never had a male taken such liberties and it took her breath away. Horrified by her own reaction, she lay under Klaus grip like a frightened bird, pulse pounding as with a startled tremor pictures flooded her mind almost too fast to see them, images of limbs entwined, caramel of her own skin and the sun washed gold of a mans hard body. The reaction was unbidden, innocent yet carnal as arousal surrounded them with the sweetest of tangs, her own desire betraying her in an instant. Sera tried to jerk free but only succeeded in sending the vase crashing to the floor as her knees gave way. This was dream made real, gift startling with the accuracy as the graze of that firm mouth on her skin brought a darkness up from within. Desire, lust, so many names but like in that vision she fell like a ripe plum into a devils embrace.

Klaus caught her on the way down, arms trapping the lush body, finding warmth and hair like silk tangled in his hands. This time his mouth found the pulse just below the ear, pressing lightly before hissing a promise against that fluttering beat, Au calme tout-petit, tu es à moi. Hush little one you are mine. The longing only grew more intense as the gentle weight seemed to fit perfectly in his grip, petite and yet perfectly formed, curves in all the right places. Every iota of control summoned to allow his arms to relax and not pull Seraphine closer when nothing seemed right save laying her out on the marble floor and removing every scrap of fabric with a teasing slowness. Klaus didnt need to breathe but he found himself exhaling sharply as reluctantly he let her go.

Could you feel trapped when nothing seemed to motivate to leave what seemed like a home once seen through a mist and now found to be real? Seraphine hadnt really expected him to catch her, but the moment those arms wrapped around her, the thought of escape seemed to evaporate like very moral instilled by her grandmere Manon. Christophes touch made skin enflame, body tightening down low, in places that had never heated so fast in her short life. Her head fell back as that mouth descended, as if instinct drove the woman, a knowing of what he was and what lay ahead. Living in darkness each sensation tripled, mouth warm on her neck, those whispered words making the once lax fingers dig into the silken brocade of the jacket under which hard muscle flexed as inexorably the man pulled her closer. Every inch of him seemed hewn from stone, no softness like the Viard men but the rock hard muscle of a life of harsh conditions and brutality. With the touch came a painful rain of shadowy pictures, the other side of the creature who held her, the ruthless killer who inhuman deeds couldnt be hidden from one whos sight expanded past the real world on either side of time. The end result, a terrified Seraphine scrambling backwards on hands and a skirt covered bottom, not realizing shed found the vase in its disassembled state. Sharpness on unprotected palms and a spill of crimson on the right side as the glass bit deep, making her cry out and halt her retreat.

Desire too thick to wade through turned to horror, making the delectable little woman even more attractive, pulse of the heart like thunder as she skittered away on the floor. Then the aroma of copper, sweetness of blood as it seeped from the cuts and Klaus was on her, eyes bleeding out till blue shone bright, pupil gone as blood lust rose to blanket sexual need. No effort needed to bring Seraphines slight form out of the glass and into his embrace once again, wrists gripped in one hand while the other yanked her firmly into him, pinning her savagely with no hope of fighting free. Releasing the uninjured hand, Klaus picked the first shard out of her flesh, sucking it clean and leaving lips reddened with blood. Three other pieces followed before he raised her palm up and finished the job with sensual laps of what many a female could attest to was a very talented tongue as he pulled her tighter with an arm around her.

The fingers at the small of her back moved upward, diving into the soft waves of ebon hair and yanking Seraphines head back, exposing the jugular till the throbbing vein drew taut and he could see every beat of her heart. Klaus dark head dropped and he let fangs just lay there, fighting for composure while every fiber of his being screamed at him to rend fabric from those soft curves and sink into her in every way possible.

Shed held her hands up, palms outstretched to block though Seraphine couldnt see the attack coming till her body was airborne, landing against Klaus so hard the breath was knocked from her. Dizziness as the tender grip turned relentless, pressing her closer and eliminating any hope of escape. The sting of the glass disappeared as Klaus removed them one at a time, then the air in her lungs froze as the sensation of him licking the cuts made the tremor in her body increase threefold. Her gift lay open, juxtaposition of future and now, fear and intense longing tearing at her, shredding reason and sense and laying open salacious needs unknown and buried till this second. Dread lay there but so did a rising a hunger, a want for Klaus to do what even now bombarded her inner eye with lascivious flashes of skin and sex.

Shuddering, the unthinkable happened, feeling overriding self-preservation as the last reserve of her own control fell away. Seraphine relaxed, tense muscles softened as the hand on his chest trying to push him away traveled up to plunge into the hair at Klaus nape. A whimper as lips parted, No, please.. Was it begging for mercy or a simple request to not take her like this.

Its like the movement traveled from her to him, that shudder passing to shake his own body as the painful grip lessened, gentleness as Klaus released the injured hand to gather Seraphine closer. Threatening posture fading, sensuality taking over as the clenched fingers in soft curls relaxed to let her neck unbend and allow for lips and fangs to drag over that silken expanse. Mon cur, ma vie, mon sang. Tu es à moi. The growl vibrated along her skin as Klaus finally chained the monster inside down, eyes fading back to a soft blue as humanity returned. He stood, keeping her still till he could gently place her on her feet. Combing that thick mass of hair back into some semblance of order, a flick of the wrist found a handkerchief being tied around the wounds on her palm then without warning he kissed her, quick exploration that begged for more then released her with a single entreaty. Come to the beach tonight.

And she did, much to Manon's dismay. The old woman did her best to dissuade the girl but the child was determined, swearing it was more than just the power of the monster that held her under it's spell. Seraphine had heeded the god given gifts for a long time and never once had she questioned the veracity. This man, no matter what flavor was her future. So when dusk fell, Grandmere's pleading fell on deaf ears. Seraphine melted into the night, following a path well worn since her childhood.

Klaus/Christophe waited, bare chested and immune to the chill off the water. Arms crossed, stance more suited to the deck of a ship he watched Seraphine approach, catching her before she stepped too far onto the sand. "Mine." In English this time, strong arms swept her up, carrying her to where the fine coverlets from the house lay spread out, gleaming white in the moonlight. He bestowed the first mark there, within yards of the surf and in the warm breezes of the Caribbean night and took her innocence as well.

More nights passed, turning into weeks as Klaus kept his iron hold on the Viard clan while seducing the winsome Seraphine. The second mark, then the third as bonds between the two wove tighter and tighter. If possible, his obsession deepened while her emotions became eternally entwined with the ruthless buccaneer. Klaus was now Christophe, already gathering the supplies and monies required for a new start with the seer at his side. By now, piracy was waning and he needed a new venture. It seemed prudent to head to a locale that knew nothing of his fairly legendary exploits and under the next full moon, Christophe gave the final mark and the pair left Hispaniola for good and headed to the new world.

Avoiding the English seemed prudent so they headed towards French controlled territory up in the northern territories of the new world. There, on the upper peninsula of what would become the state of Michigan, Christophe found an ally in the most powerful vampire in the region, Marius. With the man's blessing, life on the water called stronger than anything save the siren Seraphine's temptations. He began a series of barges for movement of supplies and later troops during the French and Indian war. The business grew, enough to settle his servant in luxury while he expanded to cover most of the Great Lakes. When the French ceded the territory in 1763, Christophe owned vast tracts of lands that remained untouched but uncontested as boundaries moved, control of the area waffled between the Canadians, the Americans and the British.

He and Marius were silent partners in the Erie canal in 1825, shipping from the Atlantic all the way up the great lake basin putting even more money in the kiss' coffers. Copper and iron mining developed, in 1848 the Michigan and Illinois canals opened, giving Christophe control of shipping from NYC to New Orleans. He reinvented himself and his servant multiple times, new names, businesses from shipping to copper mining to lumber, always part of Marius' kiss and always with Seraphine at his side.

When Y2K rolled around, Christophe was Christopher Stanton, CEO and sole owner of The Mackinac Financial Corporation in the state of Michigan with their headquarters located in Marquette. With impressive influence, he helped keep Marius' image squeaky clean and became a lesser celebrity in the process. When the shit hits the proverbial fan in 2012, Chris is there as support for the kiss and parades the well known Seraphine as a friend of the kiss and devoted public servant. While it helps to some extent, it is not enough to stem the tides that rip the preternatural community apart. He goes underground and takes Seraphine with him, protecting her and his own people while continuing to run mbank from a well protected location. It is only recently that he is once again moving into the public eye, more worried about the state of the city now then before. Seraphine has seen problems on the horizon and he is willing to do what it takes to keep the powder keg that is Marquette from exploding and taking all of them with it.

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Welcome to Base Desires - An Anitaverse Game

Christopher Stanton