Izaak was born in Delft in the Netherlands during the Renaissance, in the 15th Century. It was there that he developed a great appreciation of art. He began to study painting when he was a child, apprenticing with various artists, before he caught the eye of Giovanni Antonio Bazzi, also known as “Il Sodoma”, at a ball. Il Sodoma was a famous Italian painter, who took Izaak into his bed and under his tutelage in the year 1502, when Izaak moved to Siena at the age of 20. He became an excellent painter and a great lover of both men and women.
After having a falling out with Bazzi, Izaak travelled the world in search of greater arts and greater pleasures. In 1503, he had the unique pleasure of meeting the illustrious Michelangelo, in Florence, where he was working on a statue of David, who slew Goliath. At the time Izaak had looked on the statue with amusement – due to its size, he thought it unlikely candidate for David – he thought the name Goliath would have better suited him.
Izaak fell hopelessly and deeply in love with Michelangelo, simply because of the fact that no normal human being could create such a thing of beauty and perfection as David. Michelangelo looked on Izaak with a measure of amusement, for though Izaak was an artist, he would never be a truly great artist. He would always be first and foremost a lover of art.
The plague had originally arrived in Florence in 1347, harmlessly brought by a rat on a merchant ship. Even so, it reappeared time and again over the years, even until 1700. It was during one such remission that Izaak fell hopelessly ill.
He was not that far gone yet when Michelangelo brought to see him a very special friend. This friend was a vampire named Dominic. Dominic was so beautiful that even in his sickbed, Izaak was taken aback. Dominic’s long golden hair fell in tresses down his back, and his clear liquid gold eyes were like nothing Izaak had ever seen. When Dominic first came to lie next to him, Izaak didn’t even know what he was, he just thought it had been Michelangelo’s way of cheering him up, by bringing him such a beautiful morsel to feast his eyes upon. When Dominic smoothed back Izaak’s hair and kissed him, he knew that he was in for more than just a feast for his eyes.
“I can’t bear to watch,” Michelangelo whispered, looking at Izaak with pleading eyes. “Do you understand?” He came and took Izaak’s hand.
Izaak’s bloodshot eyes fixed on Michelangelo, but in truth he could not understand, because he did not know what awaited him.
“I have a great respect for life,” Michelangelo continued softly. “I find us beautiful in life, but partly that’s because one day, that life will be taken away from us.” He turned his face away. “But I cannot stand seeing your beauty fade, Izaak. I will not watch you die. Of all those I have loved, you, alone, I cannot watch die. So be it. I give you to him.”
Izaak squeezed Michelangelo’s hand. “Don’t worry, friend. I will get over this illness, I know it. I can feel it in my heart that I will. If you don’t wish for me to bed Dominic, then I will not. It is as simple as that.”
Michelangelo closed his eyes tight, a loose tear trailing down his cheek. “You are so naïve. And I love you for it.”
Izaak shook his head, wondering why Michelangelo was crying. “I love you too.”
Michelangelo released his hand suddenly, stepping away quickly, wiping his face. He walked out of the room without looking back, his shoulders shaking.
Izaak stared at the door as it closed behind him, somehow feeling as though a chapter of his life was about to close.
Dominic trailed a hand along Izaak’s spine, reminding him of his presence. “Are you all right?” the vampire asked softly, in a voice of pure honey.
Izaak smiled and touched Dominic’s face. “I assure you I am up to the task.”
Dominic raised an eyebrow. He leaned forward and touched his lips gently to Izaak’s. When Izaak’s arms went around his neck, Dominic pressed him back into the bed. Dominic’s skin was cool to the touch, but for some reason that just made Izaak ache to surround him with his warmth. He was wearing nothing but a nightshirt, but for some reason it suddenly seemed as though he were wearing way too much clothing.
As though he could read his thoughts, Dominic lifted the nightshirt up and over his head. He bent to kiss him again, running his hands over his sensitive body. “I will make you feel well again,” Dominic promised.
Izaak groaned, pressing himself against Dominic’s thigh. Dominic lowered those flower-petal lips to his chest, running his tongue along it until his mouth found a nipple. Izaak’s hands threaded their way into that glorious mane of golden hair. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.
Dominic laughed, the sound washing over Izaak’s belly. “My dear, you are the beautiful one, otherwise I would not be here.”
Izaak had never seen himself as beautiful. He always thought his body was a little too slim, but his shoulders too broad to match. And he always wished his butt were a little smaller. When he looked down at himself, he saw himself reflected in Dominic’s eyes, and he did not look like himself. He looked like an exotic version of perfection, his own blonde hair lighter and straighter than Dominic’s. The only feature he would openly admit as beautiful was his eyes, a deep ocean blue, and larger than was considered masculine in his angular face.
Izaak didn’t even voice his usual protests, he just let Dominic touch him, and allowed the sensations to wash over him.
Dominic at some point has removed his coat and his frilly shirt, and now pressed his naked torso against Izaak’s, claiming his mouth again. Izaak ground himself against Dominic, his hands running down his back.
It was then, when Izaak was drowning in pleasure, and contriving how to divest Dominic of the remainder of his clothes, when Dominic nudged Izaak’s head to the side, and gently sunk his fangs into that tender flesh.
Izaak didn’t even know what was happening. All that he knew was that by some miraculous combination of whatever Dominic was doing to his neck and that other magical place that Dominic was touching with his hands, he was pushing exponentially beyond any boundaries he had once had. When the orgasm wracked his body, he died. It was the most intense feeling he had ever felt or would ever feel. And beyond being sated, he was hungry for more.
He finally realised what it was he wanted when Dominic opened a vein above his heart, letting the blood drip on the damp white sheets. Izaak couldn’t stop himself, he pushed Dominic beneath him and drank. He drank as though he were creating a new self, and in a way, he was. He had a vague notion in the back of his mind that what he was doing was grossly more obscene than any act he had ever committed in a bedroom before, but that didn’t stop him from removing Dominic’s trousers and sinking his rapidly-forming fangs into the tender flesh of his thigh, drinking from the femoral artery. When his thirst was finally quenched, he looked up at Dominic’s face and realised that he had fainted.
Izaak blearily laid a finger on his neck, feeling for a pulse. It was there, weak, but there. He had drunk too much, and Dominic had not stopped him.
Izaak wrapped his body around Dominic’s and slept.
When he awoke the next evening, he nearly panicked when he found himself tucked into a coffin next to Dominic. He hadn’t even realised what he was, not really, but now he knew beyond a doubt. After the initial panic and claustrophobia, he managed to calm himself enough to open the coffin and crawl out. He was still nude.
He was in a basement, in a damp room with stone walls, the only adornments being the shiny black coffin he had just crawled out of and a table pressed up against the far wall. There was a note on the table, written in Michelangelo’s flowing hand.
Izaak. I am sorry. I must ask you to never seek me out. Though in a way I have made you what you are, I cannot stand to be around the Kindred. Your kind fills me with fear and sadness. I wish the best of futures for you. Forgive me. Yours.
Izaak curled up into a ball, his face in his knees, his arms locked around his legs, and wept.
Izaak is very fickle, always darting from one topic to the next, from one adventure to the next, one conquest to the next. He is a generally good-hearted man, and is constantly amused at something or another. He cannot help but be wry, and is often sarcastic. He is not quick to anger, but if you are persistent enough to ignite his anger, it will last a long time. He thinks the other kindred with their quick-to-anger personalities are really wasting eternity squabbling over silly details. Izaak takes his job as Primogen of Toreador very seriously. Though his personality may make him seem foppish at times, when it comes to the safety of his people, he will defend them with his life.
Current/Previous Allies and Enemies
As Primogen of Toreador, Izaak counts among his allies the Primogens of the other clans. They generally respect him because he does not interfere in their affairs, and is willing to stand by what is right. There have been some kindred that have not been so intelligent, that have underestimated Izaak and challenged his right to lead the Toreadors. They are now not lucky enough to be dead, they are forever dreaming of the beauty of Dominic’s eyes, a vision so strong they cannot shake it once Izaak plants the idea in their minds. They become like children, wandering the world in search of the vampire Dominic.
Izaak appears to be unassuming. He is slim, 5’10” tall, and rather androgynous. He has straight blonde hair that just brushes his shoulders, ocean-blue eyes, and porcelain-white skin. He always wears clothing that flatters his body, for example pleather trousers that lace up on the sides, showing skin, with knee-length leather boots. He sometimes wears loose, renaissance-style shirts, and sometimes he wears tight, revealing tops. It depends upon his mood. He nearly always wears some element of blue, to bring out the colour of his eyes, and never goes anywhere without a sapphire and silver amulet given to him by Michelangelo around his neck. He likes to wear finger gauntlets, when he is not wearing black satin gloves.
Where He Lives
Izaak owns a number of exclusive clubs in N.Y., and has chambers beneath them all that he could sleep in. Due to his fickle nature, and possibly also due to a protective instinct of not wanting anyone to know where he’ll sleep from night to night, he changes locations without warning or pattern.
Mode of Transportation
Izaak does not know how to drive, and so he employs a driver to drive his black limousine or his black Rolls Royce wherever he needs to go. He also owns a private jet, which he makes a little use of when he goes out of town on business or pleasure, but generally just owns for the convenience of being able to travel at night without risking exposure.
Izaak does not like to resort to weaponry, and is not very good in hand-to-hand combat. He does, however, own a crossbow and a regular bow in case the need arises. He also carries a small dagger in his pants or his boots, though it comes in more handy in rough bed play than anything else. He owns a derringer but had never fired it. He also has a rapier stashed away gathering dust. That he knows how to use.
Izaak owns a number of clubs around N.Y., his favourite one being called Jewel, which doubles as a strip club and a nightclub. He also owns several art galleries and has special showings that occur at night for vampire-viewing-pleasure.
Auspex V Celerity II Presence II
Offense: 7 Defence: 9
Perception: excellent. Due to his excellent auspex ability, he can often see right into the crux of the matter at a first glance, but won’t necessarily share his insights with others unless it suits his purpose. Charisma: excellent. Due to his lack of temper and overall fair play, he can win anyone over to his side. Appearance: gorgeous. Very few can rival Izaak’s exotic beauty.
Wits: average. Izaak has a tendency to be easily distracted, and so can appear to be less witty, particularly when someone good-looking walks in the room. Intelligence: average. Though he can often perceive situations very well, he has a tendency to overestimate people and sometimes misread them. Manipulation: He can often convince people to do what he wants.
Strength: below average. He doesn’t like to lift weights. Dexterity: below average. Though flexible in bed, he’s not great with a weapon. Stamina: below average. Izaak, though naturally possessing a great body, doesn’t like to get his hands wet if he doesn’t have to. Unless it’s sex – then he’s a maniac.