Name: Lyndon Beckett
Faceclaim: Jack Falahee 
Age : Looks - 30
Actually: 108
Gender: Male
Species: Instar Diviner - Dark
Nationality: English; Born London, England
Family: None

Personality:
Positives ++ Intelligent, Charming, Well-Spoken, Honest
Negatives -- Cocky, Manipulative, Egotistical

History:

The life of Oliver Beckett was one of indulgence right from birth. The Becketts were an old family and were known for their wealth and power. The Becketts were also known by a select few for their abilities. They were a family of Necromancers, users of dark magic. While their secret was revealed only to those who also walked the supernatural path, there were humans who were occasionally trusted enough to know the truth. For all non-supernatural purposes, the Becketts were a family of bankers and managers. The women stayed at home and worked the house while the men worked.

This, of course, was far from the truth. The men were, in fact as they appeared. They ran one of the largest banks in the city of London and they ran it well so their business flourished. As for the women, while most didn’t work for the family banking business, they did work. Dark magic was a necromancer's speciality and while most thought the women stayed at home cleaning, they were spending their time training the youngsters, creating potions and other various items for resale to other supernatural species on the ‘black market’.

The was the life Oliver grew up into. He was loved and cherished from birth. From a young age he quickly showed skill with his magic as well as with his physical training. He was masterful with a large variety of weapons by the age of 16 and his family was proud. He was soon in line to take over running the bank as soon as he was claimed. His claiming came and went and, like all his family before him, he was claimed by the necromancer line and went to work at the bank with the rest of the male Becketts.

Oliver was a cocky man, sure of himself, his looks, and his skills. He was a ladies man, always bringing home and bedding different girls but never staying with them long. That all changed when he laid eyes on Emily. His parents had always dreamed of him falling in love with someone of similar social status to them but they also knew the likelihood of that was slim to none. So when he came home talking about a girl as beautiful as the sun and moon combined, they were ecstatic. Their enthusiasm faded when they realized she was nothing more than a commoner. Emily Miller was a singer at a local tavern and all her monies earned went to help support both her parents.

Ignoring the desires of his family, Oliver courted Emily, eventually winning her over when he showed he wasn’t the stuck up rich man he had first presented himself as. Their romance was a whirlwind. Within a year they were married and expecting their first child. Oliver had changed, he was softer and kinder than before and he made sure to care for Emily’s parents, sending them money and ensuring they stayed healthy. Emily had been told long ago about what Oliver was and that it was expected that their child also show the same abilities.

Her entire pregnancy was one giant stressor for the young woman. Despite Oliver’s devotion and love for her, his family was impossible. They never accepted her and they were making it quite clear that if she, a human, could not produce necromancer offspring, then they had no use for her no matter how much Oliver loved her.

The day came when Emily gave birth to their son and the birth was not a smooth one. By the time their son was born, Emily had nothing left. She was still bleeding and nothing that anyone did would stop it. She held her son, kissing his forehead and smiled up at Oliver. “You know his name,” she murmured before fainting. She never awoke. So began the life of Lydon James Beckett.

Lyndon’s father grew into a hard, cruel man. Drinking became more than just a vice for him, it was his life. The only time he showed moments of clarity or the man he had been with Emily, were the moments he was with his son. As Lyndon grew, he watched his father with hesitancy and love, unsure of what to do with his unstable sire. Oliver loved his son and taught him to fight, to ride horses, swordplay, archery, and all other manner of weapons, but then at night he screamed and cursed at the boy.

When Lyndon showed he had magic within him, his family was overjoyed. He immediately began training in necromancer abilities and was a natural. With the discovery of his magical abilities the child threw himself into his training. He used it as an excuse to not go home to his drunken father at night and rather stay over at the school. His instructors grew worried but after words with Lyndon, they left it alone. He was showing that even from a young age the little boy was strong. Pushing all his feelings and his emotions about his father to the back of his mind he spent his time and emotion on his training.

Years passed and Lyndon was easily one of the most skilled magic users within the Necromancer faction. He loved the thrill he got when using his power, the feeling of energy that it filled him with. He thrived off of it. As he grew older, he used his magic to impress the girls within the faction and soon became much like his father had in his younger days. Conceited, cocky, and full of himself, Lyndon barely passed high school but he couldn’t have cared less. He knew he was destined to lead his faction and when he was claimed by the Necromancer line on his 19th birthday he knew his fate was sealed.

He had learned control of his magic years before but now that he was of age, it was time for his training as a faction leader to begin. Thinking being a leader meant he would have all the control and power and freedom he could want, Lyndon was shocked when it proved to be the exact opposite. His days were spent over books and with more instructors and teachers as he was taught the way of his faction and more importantly what was expected of him now as the future faction leader. Lyndon quickly grew stir crazy, he had no freedom, no time to himself, and he couldn’t handle it.

It was after the death of his father, his kidneys and liver finally giving up on the Necromancer, that Lyndon ran away. He left everything that he had ever known and fled deep into the heart of London. He had a purse full of money, enough to last him a long time as he got himself established. The handsome young man quickly sweet-talked himself into a good deal at a downtown flat. It wasn’t the largest or most fancy apartment but it would serve him well. Having never really truly lived in the real world before the Necromancer found himself at a loss as to what to do next.

Doing what any young male would do when at a loss, Lydon went a found a local pub to sit in and drink. He drank until the bartender, a strong looking blonde, wouldn’t let him drink anymore. As they talked he soon found himself pouring his entire story out to her despite knowing she was human and technically shouldn’t know about his kind. He couldn’t have cared less and when she didn’t seem surprised to learn about what he was he continued on easily. She finally stopped him and spoke, revealing she was also a Necromancer. She continued on and told him if he didn’t have work in the city yet that he could work for her.

So Lyndon started working as a bartender. It was simple, humbling work and at some points he even missed his life with his faction. But the woman, Careen, made him feel wanted and told him this was just the start. Once he proved his loyalty to her even more doors would open for him. A year went by achingly slowly but Lyndon stuck it out. It was the day when a man came into the bar, clearly intoxicated out of his mind. It was a slow, Monday evening and the few patrons in the bar took a quick, subtle que from Lyndon and left silently as the man stumbled aroun knocking over chairs and tables as he rambled.

He talked about how Careen had screwed him. How he had lost everything and as a result his family had left him. He pulled a gun from under his coat as Careen entered the bar from the back and pointed it at the woman. Without even thinking, Lyndon called on his magic, reciting a spell over and over in his mind silently. With pleasure he watched as the man’s face steadily turned purple, foam spilling from lips that gasped for air. He finally fell to the floor, his eyes dead and staring.

After his quick work in protecting her, Careen showed Lyndon what her real work was. Guns and drugs filled the cellars in the basements. Men, rugged and dark stared at the handsome young man that made his way down the stone steps with their boss. She showed him the work she did and then showed him the room filled with neatly stacked bills. She told him money like this could be his if he worked for her. He wasn’t dark and grungy looking like her grunt men, the guys that delivered the stock to the clients. She wanted him, with his cleaned up looks, his well spoken manner, to serve as another point of contact for clients to purchase product from.

She put him under a trial period and sent him out on his own to find new clients, a task she knew was a difficult one. No one wanted to make a purchase from a fresh-faced, newbie in the game like Lyndon was. If he could bring her even one new client she would be impressed. The young Necromancer, as new as he was to this world, knew she was tasking him with something incredibly difficult but she also didn’t know him as well as she liked to think she did.

It was no more than a week later that Lydon returned to her with a list of names and a smug smile on his handsome features. He informed her that every single name on that list would be interested in meeting with her in regard to her products. He had also already screened them for her with a few of her grunts, checking their backgrounds and to see if any of the potential clients might pose a threat to her. They were all safe and he would be happy to set them up with appointments with her if it suited her. Careen regarded him in silence for a few moments before nodding in acknowledgement. “You are in,” was all she said.

After that the years seemed to fly by. Lyndon quickly climbed the ladder with Careen as they made their fortune. The pair fell into a rocky, tumultuous relationship, one that both knew was toxic and unhealthy, but they both craved the attention that they didn’t have time to seek from others. It wasn’t long, however, that Lyndon grew sick of Careen’s games and made the decision that she had long ago worn out her welcome as the head of the business. He wasn’t the only one who thought that way so he knew he would have the support of many of their employees. With the decision made, he waited for her to come home one night. Before she could even start talking, he looked at her, his eyes blazing the color of his magic, as he silently spoke the spell that would end her life. Her voice was cut off as he magically suffocated her before flames sprang up at her feet burning her.

She was gone in the blink of an eye and Lyndon felt nothing.

His rise to power and leadership was smooth and simple. The clients all accepted it happy to have young blood in control of the business rather than Careen and her long used methods. Lyndon was younger and more open-minded. Happy to do whatever was needed to please the clients he had and to bring home the big money. This became his life for years and years. Women, money, booze, drugs, it all came easily to him and he thought nothing of it and felt no attachments. He didn’t divulge in the drugs but alcohol was a favorite pastime of his when he returned from a long day of work.

He fell into a life of habit. Nothing was a surprise to him anymore, nothing shocked him, nothing scared him. He felt secure and in control of everything. When something threatened his power or control, the threat was easily eliminated. Lyndon wanted for nothing and had all the freedom he could want in life. Little did he know that slowly his own people were growing restless under his rule. They were getting sick of the arrogant man he had grown into and even men he had considered his best friends were willing to turn on him. So, in secret, his people plotted and waited for their chance.

It was still years before they had any chance to do anything. It was a simple night in, the crew were hanging out around the bar, drinking and actually have a good time. Women sat on the laps of the men, laughing and giving them all their attention while the men talked about the next big sale or shipment coming in. Lyndon rose to his feet, his girl sitting in his place as he rose and walked over to a window to gaze outside as the men spoke. A sudden headache had started slowly in his temple and as he gazed out into the night sky it grew to a dull roar. Suddenly pain like nothing he had experienced before rocked his body until he collapsed to his knees with a cry of pain.

His men saw their chance had finally come. As the pain reached a new all time high, Lyndon blacked out. When he awoke he was alone in a heavily wooded forest in the middle of nowhere. It was like something out of a horror movie. There were no lights that could lead him to a small town or even a random camper and there was no trail to lead him anywhere. Rising to his feet a note fell from somewhere on his person, a note that warned him to stay out of London unless he wanted to die a more painful death than his predecessor had

Lyndon smirked, the challenge accepted happily. There might not be a path to show him where to go but clearly his people did not know of his ability to teleport, something he was now glad he had kept a secret. Teleporting himself to his apartment he was glad to see he had clearly beat them back from wherever they had dropped him off. Gathering clothing and all the money that the business currently had in the safe, Lyndon set up a magical trap for the people that came here to steal. The doors were now rigged, once opened the entire apartment would explode from within, killing any within several feet of the open door.

Gathering up his life and his fortune he left London, the only city that had ever been his home.

Lyndon travelled anywhere and everywhere he wanted. Time passed and he finally acknowledged the curiosity he had pushed to the back of his mind. The question of what had caused the pain that night that had knocked him out. Sitting on a tropical beach he started to do some research and found the name of a city in Colorado that was somewhat of a supernatural sanctuary. He made a mental note to make his way there as some point but he was also in no rush. He would make his way there when he so desired.

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