Art is not what you see, but what you make others see.

 

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We are born to thrive together as one species and to both listen and see through our hearts. We do not inherit the sins of our fathers, but if we have inherited privilege then it is our duty to help others and remove power dynamics. I am only free when we all are. I only have peace internally and externally when we all do.

adaptable, easy-going, agreeable and clear-headed, neat (extremely neat, his living quarters look hardly lived in besides the lack of dust that would gather from not being used), loyal to the cause, although he has a huge soft spot for humans, he may bend the rules a little bit to give them a happier experience at the farm.

seemingly aloof? hard to read at times because he just always seems to be in a good mood, hard to gain his trust, but incredibly easy to lose it, avoids conflict at all costs, zones out mid conversation sometimes, too.

quiet, he'd be perfectly content to sit in a room alone with no noise, he does enjoy sweets and cats, he does like the company of other's too, though, but he's content to just listen to others chat rather than talk himself, reading and painting.

messes, unorganized spaces, whenever his supplies aren't cleaned properly, loud noises/people, not really a fan of storms, blunt personalities that don't take other's feelings into consideration.

running group sessions for anything artsy, yoga, breathing exercises, in his free time he can be found painting, reading, or working on choreography (although he'll deny he partakes in the last one).

he has an extreme fear of storms that he's sure is associated with many traumatic events growing up, but he would never go into that with someone else, although immortal, he does fear death and what comes after because living this long has to be a sin, letting anyone close enough to see his vulnerable side.

very flowy clothes, always oversized and as if they came from someone else's closet much bigger than him, boho chic kind of vibes, he'll always choose comfort over fashion so the pieces might not make sense to anybody else but him.

ten probably spends more of his time with humans than vampires because he finds them so fascinating. Also his two unique abilities are emotion sensing and memory manipulation, both abilities help him keep humans calmer in his care.

perfectionism.

 

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born in the beginning of the renaissance period, ten was no stranger to the arts. his family had a sworn allegiance with one of the noble families he has long forgotten the names of, acting as servants and advisors. they were treated well, though, much better than the servants of other families, and that's how he began to nurture his love for the arts. he was allowed to sit in on the family's youngest daughter's art lessons, albeit in the corner of the room where he couldn't be seen, but still within enough proximity to learn. it was the same when it came to reading and writing.
 
quickly labeled as a prodigy, the family would take his pieces as their own to sell, as it was much easier to sell art with a noble family's wax seal imprinted on the back than his measly signature. rather than serving the family meals, he began to serve them in other ways, acting as entertainment during parties or being sent away to other family's to be "borrowed" for his skills. looking back, it was a rather awful time, but he was convinced he could have had it worse.
 
like every dream, though, there are times when reality has to sink back in, and ten was of age to be sent to war. going off to war, back then, was seen as an honor, so of course he easily packed his few belongings and allowed himself to be shift off to join the masses.
 
he would never return from that war, though. it lasted into his early twenties before he thought he would meet his fate on the battlefield like his comrades. he did, in a way, still meet his fate, but instead it was by catching the fancy of a vampiric noble sent to pick up stray humans for their own servants. he was an exception to this rule. at the time, he thought it was love that was what kept him alive, the vampire singing sweet poems to him even as he took his last living breath. he knows better now that it was no different than when the human nobles would use him for entertainment. he wasn't much for love after that.

and entertainment is what he served as for a long time.
 
paraded around like an exotic trinket, ten endured a little over two centuries worth of being decorated in lavish jewels and brought to parties to act much like the art he was forced to create whenever these parties weren't going on. he was to act as his sire's arm candy, sweet nothings souring into poorly veiled threats as ten was told he should be nothing but grateful for how his sire had saved him. he'd be rotting in history books if not for the one who had decided to turn him.
 
to keep him docile, he was always fed blood spiked with a sort of drug or sedative that kept him upright enough that he could smile pretty for company, but he wasn't aware enough to get away or fight off anything that was happening. to this day, ten still isn't quite aware of everything that happened to him during that time period, but what he does recall is chilling enough to keep him from thinking about it too often.
 
nights bled into days and he couldn't tell you what year it was at that point in his life. he was rescued, he'd call it, during the Victorian era, just over 300 years after his initial turning by another vampire. there was a cause to help vampires get out of terrible situations and ten finally found hope amidst the growing darkness within him, weaning back into an undead version of his bubbly self.

it took a long time for ten to come back around to enjoying art, and even now, there are days where his hands shake and he's more distant than usual, recalling times of trauma. he began his days at the farms just working as a simple caretaker for the humans, finding them more fascinating than anything as his rescuers instilled the ideals of a more symbiotic relationship between vampires and humans in him.
 
he even spent time helping the nurses around the facility with the slight medical knowledge he had from joining the very cause that had saved his vampire life. it wasn't until that familiar urge to create fell into his hands that he started experimenting with sketch books in the safety of his private quarters.
 
eventually he found himself in the recreational planner position, creating things to do to help the humans relax in between feedings or to help them get acclimated to new surroundings. he's still very cautious when it comes to feeding from humans, preferring to directly feed than partake in any blood bags. he won't eat anything he hasn't prepared for himself and he's picky with the humans he chooses. addiction still thrums beneath the surface of his cold skin, and he tries his hardest to not fall into that same predicament.