Anderson VonStriker™ is playing REIGN OF BLOOD - Click here to create your own vampire character!
 Anderson VonStriker™ (406175) | "[3] 736878 - Mine.[3]" |
Last Active: 2025/04/24 00:09
I'm Offline
| | Rank | 672 | | VIP/VIP+ Days | 22 / 19 | | Game Age | 5,365 | | Sex | Male | | Karma+/Verve+ | 42 / 0 | | Game Location | Dead City | | Home Location | United Kingdom | | Collectibles | 26 (+4%) See All | | Reputation | 10 | | Missions R/P/S | 256/1/31 |
| |
| Status | Alive | | Battle Record | 251,765/155,282/683 | | Win % | 62% | | Alignment | -1777 | | Last Killed | Tiffer | | Last Killed By | Lethean Nex Sa ... | | Wins/Blood Today | 0/0 | | Avg. Blood | Slacking | | Power | 16,937 | | WP Spent | 84 | |
| Coven |  Hotel 404 | | Coven Title (Rank) | The Venomous Murderer (69) | | Coven Virtue | Housekeeping (2) | | Donated | $5,519,145 | | Coven Exp/Conflict | View Stats 3mil+ |
| | |
|
|
ACCOMPLISHMENT MEDALS | 
VIP+ | 
List 3 | 
Rank 500+ | 
100k+ Wins | 
10k+ Power |
|
|
|
|
| PROFILE |
FEAR ME, FOR I AM VONSTRIKER.
|
The Basics
Full Name : Andrew Jepson
Alias: : Anderson Nazareth VonStriker
Nickname : Andy, Pandy, Toodles, Tadpole
Titles: The Venomous Murderer
Species: Vampire
Sire: Roman Minchenko (fictional)
Bloodlines: Minchenko & VonStriker
Mortal Age: 27
Actual Age: 65
Previous game names : Roman Minchenko, Colm Ookami/Diluculo/Deynaria, Sebastian Bryant Fallon, Rocco Agares, Dean D`Lunar Sin, Kasper Loren, Camrynn Bird, Tadpole Moon, Ardrian Velaryon.
Physical appearance
Human : Back when he was still Andrew—just Andrew—he had the look of a man who had been through fire and somehow emerged quieter, not cleaner.
His hair was thick and tousled, a shade of dark brown that caught gold in the sunlight. He kept it just a little long at the back, often pushed behind his ears when he was thinking, which was often. His hazel eyes had a restless energy, flecked with green and amber—eyes that scanned the world like it owed him something but couldn’t quite remember what.
There was a rawness to his face, not classically handsome, but striking in the way a cracked statue draws your eye more than a flawless one. A slightly crooked nose from a fight he never spoke about. A scar under his left cheekbone from shattered glass. The kind of jaw that only looked sharp because the rest of him looked tired.
He wore his police uniform like it was stitched into his skin—creased but respected. Badge always polished, shirt always a little wrinkled. He smoked when he thought no one was watching, and he carried a flask that smelled more like memory than liquor.
He didn’t laugh easily. But when he did, it felt like sunlight breaking through a storm.
Back then, Anderson was still trying to save something. Even if he didn’t know what it was.
Beneath the mask : Underneath the mask, there is no Anderson.
There is only what remains.
His face is a ruin—flesh clinging in stubborn patches to a structure that no longer needs it. His skin, once olive-toned and alive, is now a mottled patchwork of gray, black, and sickly green. In places, it sloughs away entirely, revealing glimpses of bone beneath, stained dark by the slow rot infecting him from the inside out.
His eyes are sunken pits, the irises a milky, decaying yellow rimmed with red veins that twitch like worms. The left eye is half-collapsed, oozing a dark fluid that never stops leaking. Black veins coil out from under his lids, reaching down his cheeks like scorched roots. His lips have long since cracked and split, leaving his teeth exposed—jagged and yellowing, gums pulled back in a perpetual snarl.
His nose is mostly gone, eroded to a skeletal bridge, and the flesh around his jaw has receded, exposing part of his mandible. His neck is a mass of scar tissue and exposed sinew, pulsing faintly with whatever twisted blood still moves through him. There`s a stink to him—copper, decay, and something far fouler. Something chemical.
But when he feeds—truly feeds—something happens.
For a few precious days, his flesh begins to knit itself back together. Color returns to his skin in faint, human hues. His eye clears. The black veins retreat beneath the surface. His lips soften, the jagged snarl replaced by something almost familiar. His voice, often a rasp like wind dragging through bones, grows smoother, closer to the man he used to be. For that brief moment, the monster disappears.
But the illusion never lasts.
Soon the blood curdles inside him. The rot creeps back in. The skin begins to peel, the wounds reopen, and the terrible hunger returns—not just for blood, but for something more unreachable. Something lost.
The worst part isn’t the rot.
It’s the memory of being whole again.
That fleeting taste of humanity haunts him more than any pain.
Everyday appearance : When masked, Anderson becomes legend.
He is tall and lean, his form draped in a tattered long coat that hangs like old parchment, the hem frayed and blackened by decades of radioactive soil. The coat was once military—now it’s something else entirely, transformed by time, blood, and ash into a second skin.
The gas mask fuses to his face with cracked rubber and rusting metal. Twin circular lenses gleam black and empty, reflecting the world like eyes that forgot how to blink. The filters, mounted along the sides of the jaw, wheeze with every breath—slow, mechanical, a broken machine still trying to live. A nest of torn wires and tubes snakes from the mask into his collar, disappearing into whatever system keeps his rotting body mobile.
Where the mask ends, old bandages and scavenged scraps of leather wrap around his throat and shoulders, some stitched crudely into his flesh to hold what`s left together. Across his chest, a belt of scavenged tools, vials, and a rusted Soviet sidearm—more symbol than weapon.
Strapped to his back is a handmade iron pike, etched with strange symbols and serrated down the middle—his only constant companion.
He moves without sound, like a shadow that forgot to stay flat.
From a distance, he looks like a soldier. Up close, like something that might have once worn human skin. But when he breathes, when the filters rasp and the mask stares back at you like the barrel of a gun—
—you understand why the dead don’t stay buried in Pripyat.
Because he walks among them.
|
The Birth of VonStriker
The room stank of rust, rot, and old fear.
Andrew Jepson hung from rusted iron shackles bolted into concrete, his boots barely scraping the blood-slick floor of the Pripyat bunker. His arms were dead with numbness, muscles screaming beneath the strain. His breath came in broken wheezes, each inhale catching on cracked ribs. One eye was swollen shut. The other stared at the man pacing before him—if he could even be called that anymore.
Roman Minchenko moved with the elegance of a predator who knew his place in the world. Tall, broad-shouldered, his once-handsome features were distorted now—cheekbones too sharp, pupils like pinpricks of frozen coal. The edges of his mouth split slightly when he grinned, revealing just a hint of the elongated canines beneath.
He was a prince of death.
And he was dying.
"You’re lying," Roman said softly, fingers stained crimson as he dabbed a cloth against his own oozing skin. "There is always a cure. Your people wouldn’t create something they couldn’t control."
Andy lifted his head with effort. His voice, when it came, was like gravel dragged over broken glass.
"I told you, there is no cure.... but even if i knew, I would die before i told you."
Roman stared at him for a long time. Silent. Still.
Then he laughed. Once. A short, barking thing full of bitter amusement.
"You arrogant ape. You think I would come this far, burn this city, bury thousands beneath ash and poison… for you to tell me there`s nothing?"
He stepped forward, and the light from the cracked ceiling bulb caught the grotesque gleam of his rotting flesh. His skin, once pale and marble-smooth, now flaked at the edges like burned parchment. His veins pulsed black. His jaw twitched with a convulsion he couldn’t control.
The toxin—whatever it was—was killing him. Slowly. Painfully.
Roman grabbed Andy by the throat, lifting him effortlessly, and for a moment all Andy could see were those eyes—ancient, furious, dying.
"Then you will become my monument," Roman whispered. "The proof of what they did to us."
And before Andy could speak, before he could curse or plead or resist, Roman drove his fangs into his neck.
It was not like the stories. It wasn’t a seduction. It wasn’t ecstasy. It was like being filled with fire and ice all at once—his blood exploding through his veins, his body arching with involuntary spasms. The toxin inside Roman poured into him with the vampire`s venom, a corrupted cocktail of rot and rage.
Andy screamed. His back bowed. His vision shattered into white light.
He fell.
Darkness swallowed him.
He awoke hours later. Days. He couldn’t tell.
The world smelled different—sharper, layered, agonizing. Every heartbeat he heard echoed like a war drum. His mouth was full of blood—his own or Roman`s, he didn’t know.
But worse was the pain.
It crawled beneath his skin like insects. He looked at his hand and watched flesh bubble and tear, his fingers turning black at the edges before reversing—healing, and then decaying again. The rot was alive inside him. A constant, churning cycle of regeneration and decomposition.
He tried to scream, but the air around him was poison. His breath burned. His lungs screamed for relief.
That was when he saw it—his reflection, fractured in a puddle of stagnant water.
His face was melting. Healing. Melting again.
A monster caught between life and death.
He tore through the bunker, shrieking, his mouth filled with the taste of metal and smoke. He didn’t know who he was anymore. What he was.
All he knew was that he was not like them.
Not like Roman or the other vampires.
He was something far worse.
Something the world had never seen.
|
Andromeda
The ash fell like snow.
Pripyat burned behind him, a skeletal city lit by the glow of fire and fractured stars. The trees of the Red Forest groaned with the weight of silence, their branches twisted by things far older than time, older than rot. Anderson moved like a phantom through the crumbling streets, his coat trailing soot, his breath hissing through the filters of his gas mask. Even beneath the thick rubber, he could smell the blood.
Hers.
He knew the scent. He would know it in a thousand lifetimes.
Andromeda.
The name beat in his chest like a second heart. He had tried to stay away. Tried to pretend the part of him that still loved her had died the night Ari did. But when Roman’s army swept through the town, slaughtering everyone in their path, Anderson knew he couldn`t leave without seeing her. Without saving her—if there was still time.
He followed the scent to the husk of what had once been their home. A small brick house tucked behind a weeping birch, now half-collapsed. The roof was gone. The garden overrun. But the door still stood.
It swung open with a whine as he stepped inside, the floorboards groaning beneath his boots.
There she was.
Slumped against the wall in the kitchen, surrounded by blood.
Andromeda.
Even after everything—after years of silence, of bitterness, of loss—his breath caught at the sight of her. Her thick black hair clung to her sweat-slicked face, her skin deathly pale beneath the flickering candlelight. She cradled her belly with one arm, swollen with twins. The other pressed desperately against a gaping wound in her side, blood pooling beneath her like a spreading shadow.
Her eyes fluttered open at the sound of his steps. Glassy. Fevered.
“...Andrew?” Her voice was barely a whisper, frayed and filled with disbelief.
He knelt beside her instantly, gas mask hissing with each breath. “I’m here. I’m here, Andi.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “I thought you were dead.”
“I am,” he rasped. “Not the way you think.”
She coughed violently, flecks of red staining her lips. Her hand reached up, trembling, brushing the cold rubber of his mask. “What did they do to you?”
Anderson hesitated. Then, slowly—knowing she had the right to see—he unbuckled the straps and pulled the gas mask free.
Her breath hitched.
His face was a nightmare of decay. Torn flesh. Hollowed eyes. Scars too deep to heal. Yet in those hazel eyes—still his eyes—she saw the man she had once loved. The father of her child. The husband who had broken beneath the weight of their grief.
She didn’t flinch.
She touched his cheek.
He leaned into her palm, the gesture so painfully human it nearly broke him.
“They came for me,” she whispered. “One of them—I don’t know who. I fought… I think I killed him, but—” Her body tensed in a wave of pain. “I’m not going to make it, Andy.”
He shook his head, gripping her hand. “Don’t say that. I can get you out. I can—”
“There’s no time,” she said, tears streaming now. “I can feel it. They’re dying too. The babies. They haven’t even been born, and I’m taking them with me.”
Anderson stared at her belly, his breath catching. His mind reeled. A boy and a girl. He could almost feel them. Two little heartbeats. Two flickers of life in a world gone dark.
“I won’t let that happen,” he said.
Her eyes met his. “You don’t have a choice.”
He did.
And it would damn them all.
Anderson pressed his forehead to hers, his rotting skin trembling. “Forgive me.”
Andromeda didn’t answer. She didn’t have to.
She nodded.
And with a cry torn from his broken soul, Anderson bit into the soft flesh of her neck.
It was unlike the first time.
Roman had turned him in rage. In hatred. A cursed act of vengeance.
But this—this was love. Desperate. Twisted. Selfless.
His blood poured into her, thick and burning with the toxin that ravaged his body. But as it spread through her veins, something changed. The infection diluted. The rot hesitated. Her body seized, then stilled, the wound on her side slowly closing, her breathing easing. A strange, golden glow pulsed beneath her skin—faint, but steady.
And in her womb, the twins stirred.
She gasped, back arching as the transformation completed. Her eyes shot open, glowing faintly with an eerie amber hue.
She was reborn.
Not whole. Not human.
But not broken like him.
Anderson collapsed beside her, clutching her hand as she clutched her belly. They lay together on the floor, in the ruins of what once was, the blood of the past mingling with the unnatural pulse of something new.
She turned her face toward him, eyes clearer than they`d been in years.
“What… have we become?”
Anderson didn’t know.
But he knew he’d never let her suffer alone again.
|
VonStriker Bloodline
Patriarch : Anderson Nazareth VonStriker
Matriarch : Andromeda Nyx VonStriker
Child of VonStriker : Persephone VonStriker
Child of VonStriker : Elena VonStriker
Child of VonStriker : Alex Cre VonStriker
Child of VonStriker : Simon VonStriker
Child of VonStriker : Ashlynn Avery VonStriker
Child of VonStriker : Zeeko VonStriker
Child of VonStriker : Chaos VonStriker
Child of VonStriker : Evie VonStriker
Child of VonStriker : Melantha VonStriker
Sibling of VonStriker : Velena VonStriker
Sibling of VonStriker : Jonathan VonStriker
Ancestor of VonStriker : xxi VonStriker
Ancestor of VonStriker : Neri VonStriker
|
|
|
|
|
|
RATE PROFILE |
Anderson VonStriker™'s average rating out of 456 rates is 8.15/10 |
|
| COMMENTS |
Persephone VonStriker (741163)
 |  2024-12-29 09:36:28
Thanks for being the best dad a girl could ask for | Nimue VonStriker Sainte (736878)
 | 2024-12-13 02:59:57
Anderson, from the very first moment we met, my heart felt a connection so profound that words often fail to capture its essence. Your presence in my life has been nothing short of a beautiful symphony, each note resonating with love, joy, and an unspoken understanding. Every time I see your smile, it feels like the sun has risen just for me, casting away all shadows and filling my world with warmth and light.
The way you look at me, with such tenderness and affection, makes my heart race and my soul soar. It's in those moments that I realize how incredibly fortunate I am to have found someone as wonderful as you. Your eyes, deep and expressive, tell a story of a love so pure and unwavering that it leaves me breathless. I often find myself lost in their depths, feeling a sense of peace and belonging that I've never known before.
Your laughter is a melody that I could listen to forever. It's infectious and genuine, a true reflection of the joy you bring into my life. When we're together, everything else fades away, and it's just you and me, sharing moments of pure bliss. Whether we're out on an adventure or simply enjoying a quiet evening at home, every second spent with you is a treasure I hold dear.
Anderson, your kindness and compassion are qualities that I admire deeply. You have a way of making everyone around you feel valued and loved, and it's one of the many reasons I fell for you. Your heart is as vast as the ocean, and I'm endlessly grateful to be the one who gets to experience its depths. You've taught me what it means to love selflessly and to give without expecting anything in return.
I cherish the way you support and encourage me in everything I do. Your belief in me gives me strength and confidence to pursue my dreams and face any challenges that come my way. You've been my rock, my confidant, and my biggest cheerleader, and for that, I am eternally grateful. Your unwavering support has shown me the true meaning of partnership and love.
Every moment with you is a new adventure, filled with laughter, love, and endless possibilities. You've opened my eyes to a world of beauty and wonder, and I can't wait to explore it all with you by my side. Your sense of humor, your intelligence, and your passion for life inspire me to be the best version of myself. With you, I feel like I can conquer anything.
Anderson, your love has transformed my life in ways I never thought possible. It's a love that is patient, kind, and forgiving. It's a love that sees beyond flaws and imperfections, embracing me for who I truly am. You've shown me that true love is not just about grand gestures, but also about the small, everyday moments that make life so incredibly beautiful.
I find joy in the simplest things when I'm with you. Whether we're sharing a meal, taking a walk, or just sitting in comfortable silence, your presence fills my heart with happiness. You've taught me to appreciate the little things and to find beauty in the mundane. With you, every day feels like a celebration of love and life.
Your love has given me a sense of security and belonging that I've always longed for. I know that no matter what happens, I have you by my side, and that thought alone brings me immense comfort. You've become my safe haven, my home, and my heart's true companion. With you, I feel a sense of completeness that I've never felt before.
Anderson, your love is a gift that I cherish with all my heart. It's a love that makes me feel alive, cherished, and deeply happy. I am constantly in awe of the depth of your love and the way it has transformed my life. You've shown me what it means to be truly loved, and for that, I am forever grateful.
I look forward to a future filled with endless love and happiness with you. I dream of all the adventures we'll embark on, the memories we'll create, and the love we'll continue to nurture. With you, I see a lifetime of joy, laughter, and unwavering love. You are my everything, and I am so incredibly blessed to have you in my life.
Your love has brought out the best in me, and I strive every day to be the person you deserve. You've shown me the power of love and its ability to heal, inspire, and transform. With you, I've learned that love is not just a feeling but a choice we make every day. And I choose to love you, today and always.
Anderson, you are my greatest joy, my deepest love, and my truest friend. I am endlessly grateful for the love we share and the happiness you bring into my life. With you, I feel a sense of purpose and fulfillment that I've never known before. You are my heart's desire, and I am so incredibly lucky to call you mine.
Thank you for loving me so deeply and for making me feel like the most special | Nimue VonStriker Sainte (736878)
| 2024-11-12 02:48:33
Andy you have always been beside me. You let me stand and fight my battles but always there to catch when i fall. You are my best friend and now my hubby. I know i ain't perfect not the least but i will try to not be to crazy for you, my partner in crime. [3] | Lexa Enderwood (257958)
 | 2023-10-21 15:37:24
Pandy you beautiful sight ❤️❤️❤️ | Nimue VonStriker Sainte (736878)
| 2025-04-15 01:11:06
Of course baby I'm conflict all the way | Nimue VonStriker Sainte (736878)
| 2025-04-12 05:15:54
I am a day late but happy 150 days babe [3] | Nimue VonStriker Sainte (736878)
| 2025-04-09 15:34:40
[kiss] | Echo. (755475)
 | 2025-04-06 14:15:34
Oh hey *insert eyes emote here* thank you qq | Lexa Enderwood (257958)
| 2025-04-06 07:06:50
Yay for skittles! ❤️ I'm alright busy but alive lol missed your face Pandy! Stop disappearing | Nimue VonStriker Sainte (736878)
| 2025-04-05 21:52:36
Yes forever and always | Lexa Enderwood (257958)
| 2025-04-05 20:59:35
[i]Slides a coffee in front of him[/i] Hope you are well Pandy [3] | Nimue VonStriker Sainte (736878)
| 2025-03-19 14:34:16
My baby [3] | Nimue VonStriker Sainte (736878)
| 2025-03-16 12:59:50
I miss you baby so much [i]lays her head on the table waiting for him to return[/i] | Nimue VonStriker Sainte (736878)
| 2025-03-14 02:49:31
I love you so much baby | Nimue VonStriker Sainte (736878)
| 2025-03-02 16:01:25
I miss you so much my better half with you around I feel complete! You make me a better me my love [3][3][3][3][3] | Nimue VonStriker Sainte (736878)
| 2025-02-21 02:21:03
Happy 101 days my love you are truly an amazing man! I am so glad to have you beside me… I lover you Mr. VonStriker [3] | Nimue VonStriker Sainte (736878)
| 2025-02-15 23:02:55
You are PERFECT in every way my love!!! | Nimue VonStriker Sainte (736878)
| 2025-02-09 13:02:24
Muawhhhh baby | Verena Hokulani Sainte (745071)
 | 2025-01-14 01:17:02
You have given Anderson VonStriker™ a rating of 10. | Lexa Enderwood (257958)
| 2025-01-01 11:59:20
You have given Anderson VonStriker™ a rating of 10.
Happy New Year Brother, I hope you have the best year Pandy [3] |
|
|
Merry Christmas from 
I Love you from 
Thinking of you from