Brett Lewis
Toreador
Vintage Saga
Clan Whip of Centropolis
Description
~Good-looking and youthful, Brett exudes a quiet, hometown atmosphere that endears other folk. The pale Caucasian fellow appears to be in his early twenties, thrust in the middle of his college years. Brett usually wears casual clothes: a nice pair of jeans and a button-down collared shirt of Egyptian cotton seems to suit him just fine. His auburn hair is naturally mussed, which only adds to his homey style. However, he lacks the rustic smile some might expect. More often than not, Brett's smooth features are mired in a deep frown. Those deep brown eyes flash with a wide rainbow of emotions. The range of emotions with which Brett seems constantly saddled only reflect the colors the artist commands at his visionary fingertips.~
OOC: Appearance 3
"So vivid! I can almost see it now..."
History
Youth
Twenty-four years ago, Brett Lewis was born in a decent middle-class neighborhood of St. Louis. Here he grew up with loving parents and two younger sisters. Brett attended public school, where he received good grades all twelve years. He always excelled in one subject especially: art. Specifically, he could paint!
Brett's pieces in high school brought him awards on the state and national levels. His art teacher, Justine Redman, remained a great inspiration throughout his career. She encouraged the youth to follow his dreams and showed him painting techniques with oils only college students were supposed to learn. Brett took that knowledge and drew in scholarships.
So it wasn't long before Brett said good-bye to childhood and went to Missouri State College. By his sophomore year, Brett was already widely recognized as a hot new artist. His abstracts and surrealism in oils were more vivid than anyone could compare. The work Brett produced brought shapeless masses of color to life. The life his work took varied from viewer to viewer. But it always hit them with a "bam! -- that's what that is!" effect.
Thus, not surprisingly, Brett could command a few hundred bucks for even the smaller canvases he painted. He was quite proliferate, too, and he found himself able to paint his way through college (for the duration he stayed at least). Some asked Brett where he got his inspiration. In the old days, he replied, it just…came to him. As he got older, and responsibilities bogged his mindset down, that "automatic muse" faded. Yet he still retained the "gift" by tapping his consistently vivid dreams. That was where his muse retreated, Brett decided.
The Embrace
Then along came Katrina Black. Katrina promised Brett that she could unlock the muse. She could set it free in him and it would immortalize his artwork. He didn't realize she meant the offer literally… Katrina seduced Brett. They made love all night long and slept all day. When they awoke the next night, the flame of their passions was renewed with more sex. They poured the wine and kissed it from each other's lips and bodies. Next thing Brett knew, Katrina was drinking something else: his blood. And it felt good. Just as he felt like he was on the brink of oblivion, she offered her blood to him. And he drank heartily…and was Embraced. When he came to full awareness of himself, he realized he changed.
But Katrina explained everything. Yes, it was difficult at first. It was difficult that he was now a vampire, a creature solely of the night. A creature that had to drink blood. But Katrina promised that his talent was unlocked fully and would last forever -- provided he didn't piss anyone off and get himself killed. Katrina told him why that might happen -- he learned of the Masquerade and the Traditions. And he accepted them. They made sense. However, he didn't quite believe his sire. He didn't feel unlocked. He felt a great big empty feeling in the center of his being. No matter how much he drank or ate that night, nothing could fill it.
Brett dropped out of college just before his junior year began -- he kind of had to. He accompanied Katrina back to St. Louis, living with her and adapting to his new existence. But he couldn't paint anymore. He lost the muse entirely. His dreams were no longer vivid -- they weren't even memorable. Everything turned gray and dim in his dreams. Except when he was awake, everything else seemed more vivid. It was as if Katrina had opened the valve of creativity within Brett, except the wrong way somehow. He saw all the colors of the world and more so much more brighter and clear than he ever thought imaginable. But he couldn't put it down on canvas. Most of his attempts came out lousy, and his few successes paled in comparison to his work before the Embrace. Katrina was disappointed, but assured him he would come around him. Brett wasn't disappointed. He was furious!
Yet what could he do? Confidence shot to hell, all he could do was hope his sire's prediction would come true. So Brett stayed with Katrina for a few years. He cut off all contact with his human family and friends…except one. He renewed contact with his old high school art teacher, Justine Redman. Brett needed her guidance, though he told her nothing of what he had become. Her recommendation was simple -- leave Katrina and seek his fortune alone. But he felt obliged to stay with Katrina. He was half in love with her after all. And Brett also half-hated his sire, for betraying her promise.
Fresh Canvas
That was why in 2004 when Katrina left Brett for Cincinnati he was happy. He could now finally strike out on his own. So they parted ways. Brett had no interest in staying behind in St. Louis. His clanmates treated him like a lesser being and he couldn't crawl back to his family like this. He considered his options. And it was his old art teacher, Mrs. Redman, that ultimately helped him decide. Trevalyian University was in desperate need of an improved art program, she hinted. Brett sent them his resume and voila!
So the Toreador packed his bags and moved out to Centropolis, Missouri. He began to tutor eager art students on the collegiate level, sharing techniques Mrs. Redman showed him long ago. Some of those students became easy meals (though he was always very gentle and did little more than sip) -- the benefit of such professional yet intimate relationships. Brett introduced himself to the Prince and saw to his own needs: the needs of regaining his lost muse and putting all these vivacious colors in the world onto canvas at last.
Significant Other
Brett encountered this young artist at Trevalyian University in late 2004, soon after he arrived to the area. The Toreador discovered that Tayla Phelps was a brilliant painter who shared a style of bold colors much like his own currently defunct talents. He seduced the young woman, but soon found himself seduced in turn by her aptitudes and beauty. Brett Blood Bonded Tayla to him and hoards her close forever.
Tayla
Weakness
Damaged Goods
For most artists, an Embrace from Clan Toreador is a blessing. Even if the rest of their life falls apart (and it usually does), at least their art skyrockets into new domains of beauty and originality. Not Brett. The Embrace stunted his talent. And it's driving him nuts as he tries to get it back.
Likelihood of Corruption
Average.
Like most Camarilla fledglings, Brett still has his humanity. But it won't take long: the downwards spiral is inexorable for the ignorant Kindred.
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Centropolis by Night
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