Adam Brookelm

Bunamini — Offline

About Me

Quick Stats

Name: Adam Brookelm
Pronouns: He/Him
Age: 28 (5 May)
Height: 6.1 (Muscular)
Hair: Short and chestnut
Eyes: Grey
Blood Type: AB Positive
Residence Location: Lavender Heights
Occupation Location: Lavender Heights

Occupation: Author, anthropologist, metaphysics passionate
Vehicle: A needlessly fancy car

Psychic Stats

Age Abilities Appeared: 17
Eye Color: Light Blue
First Ability: Dream Walking
Second Ability: None
Third Ability: None

Power Description
Dream Walking - Adam mostly uses his gift as a source of inspiration for the novels he writes. It manifests through a very deep moment of absence where Adam keeps his eyes closed, as if sleeping. In this state of focus, he is barely aware of his surroundings, the most of his attention being devoted to visualising one's dreams in the clearest way. Should he remain too longly in the oniric realm, upon waking up, he could potentialy have troubles dissociating reality from visions of a mind he's just explored.

Vampire Stats

Age Turned:
Eye Color: N/A
Level: N/A
First Ability: None
Second Ability: None
Animal Form: N/A
Group: N/A
Rank: None
Role: None

Power Description

Were Stats

Age Turned:
Eye Color: N/A
Sex: Male
Species: N/A
Level: N/A
Group: N/A
Rank: None
Role: None

Animal Description


Adam may be refered to as what one may call "a hot cookie". Most of the time, if not all, he combs his hair so that it looks slackened, the tones of his streaks bend over a lightly shaded brown. Actually, under the sunlight, they would almost look as grey as the iris encercling his tranquil pupils. His eyesight is really poor when it comes to detailing close objects, to that extent, he always keeps overwhelmingly big glasses up on this buff nose of his. The beard he's been constantly trying to keep in order still is, and probably will remain his most time-consuming preparation in a matter of fancying up in the morning. But hey, the result is worth it !

Regarding his body, Adam can pride himself on being in a pretty good shape, though he does not will, or simply can, match with the kind of monsters you'd see on the corner of a fitness center, right nearby the butterfly engine, doing pushups twelve hours a day. However, since he does workout, though only at his own place, he manages to keep his shape going. His gait could be qualified as too formal, or even, according to some nasty tongues, as if he had a stick up his bum. Sometimes, Adam can indeed be very mannered, especially with his arm game, where from one time to another, one would just hide behind his back, or serve as a support for the other's elbow while pinching his chin. That's a little mania he's got when thinking.

As for the clothes, and to keep it simple, if there was a way to go outside without ever having to worry about being cold, Adam would definitly always wear a light shirt and casual pants, tight jeans most of the time, wide clothes makes him feel a bit uncomfortable. Clothes always are much more comfortable when held tight onto the skin, well for the legs, at least and in his very humble opinion.


In a matter of temperament, Adam is a very calm person, to such an extent where he could feel absolutely unemotional, from an exterior perspective. But actually, he's kind of a nice guy, really ! He simply believes it is always better, as much for one's self as for their surroundings to keep a cool head, and, if problem there is, trying to find a way for both parties to work out their way in an argument, no matter how extreme it may be. However, as much as he would like to say that it's just out of benevolence that he acts this way, Adam actually simply way better with words than with hands. Just the thought of harming someone repulses him, sports being a valid exception, though he does not practice these kinds of activities. Also, he's a pretty lazy guy, it's not so uncommon for him to relax home, doing nothing but listening to music while trying to figure out unprecedented plots for his novels.

Regarding humanity, and presumably like many of his kind, Adam couldn't help but feel a bit astray from the rest of them. The closest thing he's got to a aquaintance is his own editor, family aside. His true nature and the knowledge of his power has convinced him that his counterparts would hardly ever be a source of appreciation from his own side. Although it would please him the most if he were to be surprised. Vampires and weres are yet another perspective from Adam. To him, those beings are only different in a matter of instinct, not root. Appetite, shape, metabolism keeps them apart from the casual human, but this young man here does believe that even those differences aren't sufficient enough to keep them from being of the same kind. As a passionate author, he believes that words are the line that draw the frontier between what is human, and what is not.

Also, he has built a fascination for metaphysics, that he considers being a subgenre of anthropologia. Mostly, he is keen on proving that these creatures are no monsters, just equals to humans, another kin but not another species. To him, it seems obvious than living alongside them, without casualties is possible, after all, how long have they lived without ever aknowledging their very existence ?


Adam was the only child of a wealthy family. His father was a doctor in philosophy whose clauses encountered an unexpected success. Mostly, they were thoughts on humanity's "second nature", at a time where vampires and weres were barely a work of fiction. His mother, on the other hand, funded and still handles her own company. He was raised almost by himself, and educated by the books his father wasn't placing high enough on the shelves to avoid him from borrowing them. Not that he minded his son being able to read at a very young age, the paternal's major worry was the concerned's uncapability of establishing a long-lasting relationship with any of the boys, or girls his age. And after having tried many times to convince him into reaching out to the others, obviously, in vain, he finally resolved himself into letting the child live his passion. As for his mother, he would barely see her once or twice a month.

And so on, when Adam grew into a teenager, he had as many books under his arms as undifferent looks laid on him. But he did not care, not a single bit. During his time in highschool, and after going through several years of rejection, the boy found out another passion of his. If he wasn't able to fill in a group, to adopt a social behaviour, he was, however, able to study those who could, understand them. On that matter, Adam had always been keen of theory, but never practice. To sublimate his boredom, mixed with the fact that he had read every book his old father's shelves had to offer, he eventually decided to take on the feather himself. Having read so many books, he was expecting his style to be near perfect, but disapointment caught back to him before he had even finished writing the first pages. But he tried again, and again, with different registers, using various figures of speech, innovating, being bold in the way he was shaping his novels.

Passionnated by Stoker's and Lovecraft's works, he wanted to try and mix their styles, mythologies, blend them into one and the same universe. He published, thanks to an editor his father forwarded him, his first novel at the age of 16. It was acceptable, but clearly not perfect, far from being able to compete with his two idols. The book didn't make it through to the grand public and the rare souls to have ever laid eyes on it would never call it a quality work, just a correct one. Having given all the inspiration he thought he had into this story, Adam lost his motivation for a whole year and didn't even dare merely attempting another novel since then. But as strong as winds may blow, they do turn.

Some morning, Adam woke up, just the way he'd do it the day before, except the dreams he had, that night, he could envision them so clearly. Every single detail seemed so neat, it was almost like a memory he had forgotten, brought back into the present. Only did he understand what he had become when an argument with his father, the very same day, abruptly ended with the paternal falling right into sleep, and Adam suddenly finding himself lost in a paysage he had never seen before. Everything was twisted, shuffled through so many thoughts, memories slipping here and there, sometimes he would even see himself through the eyes of his father, in a scene that never happened, except in the mind of his own progenitor. When this journey ended, Adam understoof that the best way to make people's dreams come to life throughout lines and words, was to seek within these very same dreams.

And so on, for two years, and over pursuing his studies courses, he sought into aquaintances minds, into teachers, into strangers, draining an infinite well of inspiration and writing it down with ink on the pages of his novels. He shaped those fantasies to make them fit to this style he wanted to preserve, fascinated by horror, he finally wrote a second book. Following Stoker's mythology, he would write about fantasists creatures, such as vampires, undeads, hell spawns, werewolves and would also inspire himself from Lovecraft's forgotten gods. His writings were noticed at last, when some readers realised the contents of his books were meeting the expectations they had. For Adam had sent copies of his novel to people he'd know would absolutely adore them, those persons were the very same he borrowed his imagination from and whom he would know the adress of. Word spread faster than he could've imagined, but he wasn't near famous yet.

Although, when these "works of fictions", these unreal creatures spawned in this world, when the existence of vampires and weres was proven, Adam's works came to know an increasingly high interest in their content. The trend was laid, and the stories he had written were a perfect match to that ambiance people were searching, to these questions left unanswered the most naives ones would hope to find in his novels. But the beings he had created were monsters, soulless, uncapable of empathy. Eventually, he would begin to doubt as to how accurate his conception of these creatures was, and concluded that something wasn't right with this. How could they have lived for so long without ever noticing the presence of such species ? Either they were hiding their game really well, either they are more humans than what his writings implied.

As time went on, he became more and more convinced that, more than an author, he was a social scientific. Wandering aimlessly into the cities, he would seek for offsprings of this root of humanity, trying to know what they were most alike, humans, or monsters ? Although he never obtained a clear answer to that problematic, he did notice some dreamers with peculiar sleeping thoughts. Has he ever traveled within a vampire or a were's mind ? Even he did not know, although he was confident that it had to be the case, at least once.

The money he's earned for himself with his stories permitted him to afford a fancy modern house. So he left his old flat downtown and moved further away from the pikes of civilisation. Saying that he lives in the countryside would be exagerating, but the grass over his part of town is much more green than what the urban surroundings have to offer. And so, from then on he's made himself a routine of doing home fitness daily, running at the parc and then reading a book on the very same bench every single day. And during the evening, he would brainstorm on the true nature of those beings they share this world with. And eventually, when an idea would finally shine, Adam would simply write what is to him, the essence of truth, and long-lasting harmony.


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