OSCAR MORALES

APPEARANCE (physique)
Oscar is a lean man, supple and lightly muscled. Predatory yet approachable, his odd features include slightly pointed ear tips, talons instead of nails, and eyes that fall somewhere between brown and red. Unkept dark hair often needs to be slicked back, which just only seems to add to his overflowing charm. A key with large, angelic wings (back) and consist of his tattoos.

APPEARANCE (clothing)
Oscar is one to dress for whatever occasion happens to arise. More often than not, he prefers business-causal apparel for the daily grind, the main set of which compromises of a navy-blue dress jacket and pants, a white button-up shirt, dark-brown loafers, and either a tasteful or flavorful tie. Depending on the weather, a handkerchief necktie might be utilized instead.

BACKGROUND (childhood, 00 - 12)
Oscar Morales was born into the Salablanca (Whitehall) family during the year of 1722. Luxuriously wealthy Spaniards, when their influence reached the Central American town of El Isanejo, one of their to-be-married bachelors slept with a local woman. By the time anyone figured out the scandal, his father had returned to Spain, leaving him with a single mother.

BACKGROUND (teenhood, 13 - 19)
Oscar spent the majority of his teenage years as something of a rapscallion. Too young to be self-sufficient, but too old to have no excuse when it came to contributing to his household, his days were ones spent completing chores or tricking his half-siblings into doing it instead, and more often than not, he left no one the wiser when it came to his cunning shenanigans.

BACKGROUND (adulthood, 20 - 35+)
Oscar took an interest in a woman called Etzli, who lured him to his death as a sacrifice for a vampiric monster. Too resilient for his own good, or perhaps just unlucky, he found himself transformed into a vampire shortly after the cult was wiped by a family of cryptid hunters. With no one to guide him, he was left to feed as little more than another beast in the jungle.

BACKGROUND (the present, 199X)
Oscar eventually found himself pulled from the brink of a feral existence by another cryptid, who welcomed him into their larcenist family. Several years passed, and after a sour fallout, he traveled to the western territories of the United States and helped found the blemished city of Los Lunares where he has stayed, especially after catching wind of Etzli once again.

Tires rolling like thunder on a desert road heralded their journey. The sensation might've been alluring – comforting, even – for his love of travel to fall asleep to, if it weren't for the ironic fact that Oscar couldn't see a thing.Fear had a distinctive smell, or so many vampires liked to think. Oscar was never much of a crier, but the same couldn’t be said for whatever poor sod formerly occupied the salty sack that had been thrown over his head. Could the mob really not be bothered to clean it for just one abduction? After all, he was no base prey – a guest, one might say, considering he had the privilege of being invited as to being kidnapped.Be that as it may, secrets were still secrets, and things like murder, trafficking, and thievery all but properly mixed, so it came as no surprise that the Bed of Scorpions wanted him coming in blind. While he had had the pleasure of working with them prior only once, he knew by rumors alone for their leader, Jack Hatchett, to be a private and voracious man... if one could call him a man.Ka-thunk! Ka-thunk!Crunching gravel signaled their transition off the beaten path, and as the illumination beyond the fabric of his head bag shifted from dusk to dark, Oscar couldn't help but feel a bit more at ease – that is, until another thought crossed his mind. Had nighttime finally taken hold, or were they being transported underground? "Mmm, could someone give me the time of day?" he asked.Disappointingly stoic, an answer from his escorts never quite made itself present. Instead, he found himself led down and out by two goons, each holding him by an arm. Thankfully brief, the walk ended when he fumbled through a pair of doors, which promptly slammed shut before the bag was whisked from his head.Oscar heard it before he saw anything.[I ain't got a fever, I got a permanent disease!]
[It'll take more than a doctor to prescribe a remedy!]Was that... Bon Jovi? Huh.Apart from being warm, well-lit, and impeccable in its musical taste, the office reeked with the faint undertone of cured meat – an odd scent, he thought – but was otherwise fit for a burglar's wet dream. Plush textiles welcome his weary feet. Display shelves of wine tempted the palette. A miniature library in the back offered ample entertainment, while an adjacent door to the left of the shelves made his curiosity buzz. The source of the music boomed from somewhere behind.[I got lots of money, but it isn't what I need!]
[Gonna take more than a shot to get this poison out of me!]Dog days of robbery and mischief were far behind him, but try as he might, a small part of his insatiable appetite for material things made him wonder if anyone was looking. A quick glance behind told him that he was, in fact, not alone; two goons (the same ones from before, he presumed) diligently stood guard at either side of the main entrance.Little could hide the disappointment on his face. "I don't suppose either of you know how long the wait will be, or–?"–But he never got a chance to finish his question. The doors flapped open once more, dumping out another person, their head obscured by a sack just as his had been. Oscar furrowed his brow.No one said anything about this being a two-man engagement.