*sits in a large window that looks out onto the night sky, reclining back on the windowsill*
It seems that many people like to know the 'life story' of the people in the Theatre..
Hmm, where should I start?
Well, let me begin with this...
I was born a vampire, and Nothing.. is my name. I am not calling myself that in an attempt to 'label myself as a void', as someone once said to me. It is the name that was given to me at birth.
A friend of my mother's that was present at my birth gave me this name, since my mother was.. unable to *trails off and stares at the floor for a moment*
Anyway, to those who have a problem with my name, I would usually say for someone to take it up with the source. But since the one who named me is long since gone, i suppose you will just have to deal with it on your own terms *laughs quietly for a moment*

*continues with a smile* But i suppose if you must find another name to call me, you could always call me by the name my adoptive parents gave me - Jason. Though i am not particularily fond of that name.. And i do not always answer to it if someone refers to me as Jason. Nothing.. is my real name.
And i do prefer to be called by my own name.. Don't you? *smiles and re-arranges himself to become more comfortable and reaches for a glass of chartreuse*

I was born in New Orleans, in an apartment above a small bar, on a warm and humid night - as most nights are in New Orleans.
My father was not present. Actually, he didn't know that i even existed, or that i was even concieved. A friend of my mother's was though, as I have mentioned. Christian was the only friend my mother really had left. Once she became absorbed with the notion of vampires, most of her friends had drawn back in fear or doubt.

*stops for a moment and sips his bright green liquor and then continues in a soft voice* My mother.. *sighs softly* from what i heard from Christian, she was a sweet girl. Her name was Jessy. A girl of only 16, younger than i am now, with long light brown hair and a slight build, and hazel eyes. I get the slight brown in my eye color from her *smiles to himself, then turns sad*.
She died when she gave birth to me. I am not sure if you are familiar with what happens when a mortal gives birth to a vampire of my sort- even if they are merely no more than a 'cross-breed' of little mystique.
Vampire babies of my type in essence chew their way out of their mothers... devouring the blood and flesh of them along the way.
Few mortal females survive such an ordeal, and i fear my mother was no exception.
She never even looked upon me once, and i never saw her face or felt her touch. I was pretty much an orphan of sorts, at birth.

My father is Zillah. I never knew him as a child. He left the day after meeting my mother.
I didn't find him for years... not until i was 16. He is a stunning specimen, in true vampire form..
Aren't you all vampires? *smiles wryly*.
With silky long hair in a beautiful caramel brown, and eyes the color of broken jade, deep green and beautiful.... How i wish i had his deep green eyes.
Though I am glad for the parts of my mother that i have.. Can you blame Jessy for tempting her own death like that?
Few could resist my father... not even I, at one time..

*continues with a small sigh* Christian wanted to spare me of what he considered the bloody violence of vampire life at that time. The day after my birth he took me away from New Orleans, and left me on a doorstep of some strangers in Maryland, leaving me ripped from my true home, my heritage, and my own self-identity.
The people who raised me were kind enough, with good intentions.. But i always suspected that i was not theirs. I was too different from them.. And from everyone else, for that matter. When i was about 14, I found out that my suspicions were correct - finding the note that Christian had pinned onto my baby blanket in the drawer of my "mother's" desk - : "His name is Nothing. Care for him and he will bring you luck", it read.
I discovered my liking for blood early on. It is not so much a necessity for me as a comfort.
Whenever i was sad or feeling lonely, i would cut at my wrist and suck at it until i fell asleep. It wasn't until later that i learned of the reason i felt this way about it. I never knew what I was.
But I did know that i didn't belong where i was, and felt the incessant need to travel away. To where, i wasn't sure. One day it all became too much, and i left Maryland on a Greyhound bus.
I knew there was more for me than what i had at the time. I knew i had a place to fit in somewhere, kept the hope that somewhere there was my own special type of family out there, just waiting to take me in, for good this time, and eventually i was able to find it.