• Well manicured, tidy, enjoys a good sweater
• Hair gray with the faintest trace of long-faded gold in the right light
• Average in height and build, in fine physical shape for his apparent age

• Egotistical, self absorbed, quick to judge, wants to be entertained
• Not a bad person, but certainly not a good one
• Thinks himself charming, your mileage will vary
• Adores gossip and politics, for curious interest as much as personal gain
• Often dishonest, not always out of malice
• Acts on whims, equally as likely to be needlessly mean as generously kind
• Delicate, easily insulted, prone to paranoia. Vengeful in thought, infrequently violent
• Dramatic in joy, rage, sorrow, and everything in between

Wilhelm Henry Beauregard was born to Henry and Valerie Beauregard on a summer day in 1866.

His birth was a singular gift to a married couple cursed with several miscarriages, an affliction likely caused by what is most politely described as "very similar family trees."

His parents sat comfortably on considerable financial success, his father the latest in a line of lawyers whose firm had become synonymous with wealth throughout much of Quebec.

The earliest years of young Wilhelm’s life would prove joyful and prosperous. Work was flourishing for his father as a result of considerable political and economic strife in the region, a situation the man took advantage of with predatory keenness. As blue collar workers fled a growing depression, Henry Beauregard and his associates worked tirelessly with manufacturing business owners (and, quietly, the Catholic Church) to limit emigration to America as strictly as possible.

During this time, Valerie doted on her son. She (along with private tutors) taught him to speak masterfully in English as well as his native French. Eloquence in oration was prized in the Beauregard household; Wilhelm seemed a natural. His father offered other lessons: political and social understanding and a slightly gray morality.

Though Henry’s work with industry proved very profitable, it ultimately was also a failure. Workers hemorrhaged from Quebec in the hundreds of thousands, and the Beauregard family joined them and moved to New England.

By 1886, Wilhelm was on track to assist with his father’s law firm. On a winter morning of that year, Valerie Beauregard slipped on a patch of ice and cracked her skull on the steps outside of her family home.

This devastated Henry, but only briefly. Without his wife’s softer influence, he pushed viciously forward in his firm and began to purchase considerable swaths of land. Henry found himself a new position as a judge.

Wilhelm excelled as a lawyer. In 1892, he married a striking woman named Margaret. (She was also his cousin.)

The next year, his father died after a very brief and intense illness. His death caught the attention of journalists, muckrakers who declared that he’d been poisoned for a history of corruption. The family name was disparaged and expunged from the law firm.

Though his father's acquisition of land allowed Wilhelm to live comfortably, he was hardly content. He changed his name and moved several times, seeking to distance himself from a legacy rendered humiliating. He divorced and married, divorced and married again. He proved a difficult and unhappy husband, dramatic in his misery and frequent anger. Each marriage was also childless, a fact that haunted him throughout his life.

In his mid-fifties, he found himself with a frenetic desire for importance. He began to call himself Beauregard, taking up the name abandoned for decades. He dabbled in politics and entertaining, throwing lavish parties where he sought to impress with words and illicit alcohol. He was successful in attracting a young mistress named Daniella, several decades his junior. The affair was kept skillfully silent for years until he begun to receive blackmailing letters that threatened to reveal his "adultery and impotence" to the world.

Unable to choose between his reputation and finances, he created a third option. Through the tenuous connections he used to obtain prohibited alcohol, he found a man willing to "remove" Daniella from his life. Permanently. It was a task he could never stomach handling on his own.

Beauregard met with the man in a curiously empty underground speakeasy, drank a single sip of wine he realized swiftly was blood, and was promptly strangled to death as he demanded to know the meaning of the horrible drink.

Within days, he killed Daniella himself, driven by the power of suggestion to consume her blood.

With Beauregard's death came new life. He'd been turned as part of a fledgling clutch, and it provided him with the identity and importance he'd been desperately searching for. With his fangs came a new ability, subtle at first but honed over years to follow. He found himself keenly attuned to the feelings of others, drinking in their fear and joy and sadness. Though at first it exhausted him, the natural violence of the clutch's early life taught him to step back and use it to his advantage.

The clutch found great use for Beauregard and his knowledge of law, politics, and social niceties. He was particularly favored by the oldest members, vampires so ancient that their ability to communicate with essential but troublesome humans had withered.

Beauregard thrived. While others specialized in more... violent tasks, he wore a warm expression and put his wealth to careful and corrupting use. He secured asylums and workhouses as places for reliable "donors." The clutch found a comfortable niche within the restrictive years of Prohibition. Even after the Twenty-first Amendment put an end to the laws they skirted, the clutch grew in its scope and reach, sending tendrils out through much of New England.

Decades would pass. Leaders would come and go. In time, however, a younger looking and handsome empath would become dominus. Beauregard resented the man and found every quiet opportunity to undermine him. But dishonesty in the face of a dominus proved an unwise choice. For his envy, Beauregard was cast out from the clutch on the grounds that his skills were no longer a fit for the times.

Long-divorced and uselessly wealthy, he struggled to find a new place for himself, growing bored and miserable. It left him with a streak for mischief, and he had a way of finding clutches in turmoil, needing only a push into chaos that Beauregard would happily provide. He acquired a taste for the company of humans and psychics and, upon the delightful reveal of his kind in 2017, would at times speak openly of his condition to charm those foolish enough to find it intriguing.

Still, wandering has proven unfulfilling for Beauregard. With a flurry of videos of vampires run amok emerging from Ridgefield, he arrived in the area with a keen interest in what tenuous drama may lie there and where his place in it all might be. After tangling with a clutch in the downtown region, he decided it would be far more interesting to make his own!

• Loving caretaker to Annabel the chinchilla
• Always carries a silver knife, a lighter, and increasingly carries a (concealed) firearm with silver ammunition
• Note: Beau is a highly unreliable narrator. Take what he says/thinks/treats as fact with a grain of salt, or ten!

A stunning collection of art

Being both very handsome and very important, Beauregard has been the subject of many creative depictions by renowned artists. Click below to view!