“One day you'll leave this world behind, so live a life you will remember.”- Avvici

While from an outsider's point of view looking in, Blair embodies little more than blatant aspects of a stereotypical bad boy and party animal, there is more to him than that which sets him apart from your average fuckhead troublemaker. That is, if you've got the right shovel and patience to dig deeper for it.Because while appearing confident and sure on the surface, the lad's anything but. Blair's messed up inside to out, stemming from the absolute shit show that was his so-called childhood, which manifests in an assload's worth of negative thoughts and behaviours, such as, at times, dangerous levels of flagrant disregard for authority, which, along with his conviction of flexible morality in service of the 'greater good', pushes him to achieve his mission using nearly any means necessary, which often pits him against other hunters and law enforcement whose rules he frequently bends or breaks. Blair will destroy property, cheat and lie; heck, he'll commit light torture in pursuit of his undead quarry -- but never murder.Blair's a 'fun-lovin' guy by nature, flirtatious, seen as kind but impulsive by friends. He would scarcely turn down a good opportunity for excitement, no matter the potential negative consequences afterwards, be they a hangover from hell following a kickass party with loud music and alcohol or a pissed-off vampire.
Unprotected sex? Barge into a vampire nest without backup? Both in one day? You bet.This 'fun lovin' even extends into hunting; Blair revels in his family's unconventional occupation, such as when facing a life-and-death situation and granted a rush of intoxicating adrenaline.It has become his cocaine, a veritable addiction, along with others.Parties. Sex. Alcohol.

“Someone always gets hurt. Better them than me - or someone innocent.”
- BLAIR

STORY

Born the youngest spawn out of three to parents Bernard and Caroline during the first blush of spring in the year 2000, Blair’s life is and was not an easy one. By unfortunate birth, he’s a member of the O’Connors, a line of proud vampire hunters and a branch of the acclaimed Harker family who shares in the same profession and is perhaps most noted for one of their not-too-distant ancestors, Jonathan Harker, who in the later part of the 19th century participated in the destruction of the infamous Dracula, forever cementing him as a hero and those in his family thereafter as leading figures within the vampire hunting community, second only to the Helsings. And while this sounds perfectly fine and congenial on paper or spoken aloud, in praxis, there is quite a lot of pressure put on members and, by association, the various branches consanguineous to them, such as the O’Connors. A high standard that, growing up and as a young man and vampire hunter, Blair never came close to meeting in most people’s eyes. And this failure did not pass in simple disgruntled silence.Everywhere he went in life, people couldn’t keep their predilections under wraps. It’s like he entered the room, and suddenly the floodgates of criticisms opened. They tell him, though always in a finespun, roundabout way that make Blair clench his fists in indignation, how they’re all terribly worried or disappointed in him. Alternatively, how he’s a hopeless disgrace that’s been handed literally everything through a privileged upbringing yet still somehow ending up ‘like that’.But they are only in possession of half the facts. They only know what Blair’s family has spoon-fed the community to paint a pretty narrative, that he’s a reckless hunter, and that’s that.
It’s better that way, they say; reputation matters.And while Blair complies, playing along like a sackless dolt, he does so only because he’d be out on his ass if he blabbered to everyone the uncomfortable truth. That his dear old father, a respected vampire hunter of the Van Helsing Association by the age of twenty-five and member of the great Harker family, was also an impassioned cocaine drug user by the time Blair was six.His dad would come home, virtually gone for months at a time without Blair knowing his whereabouts, only to slap a drawing right out the young boy’s hand that he’d made for him, whispering about corpses, blood and terrors in the night, all while crying and shooting through the nose and handing out the occasional vile beating to Blair’s mum when the white candy couldn’t quite satisfy.So – yeah, there’s no use sugarcoating it; Blair had a shit childhood and no mistake.
His father never laid a hand on him, but he witnessed plenty of rough abuse against his mother that later became permanently etched into the memory halls of his brain. This was usually followed by his father falling on his knees in tears and begging for forgiveness. Rinse and repeat.Blair carried these burdens with him growing up, nurturing severe traumas and forming corresponding attitudes that initially served as defensive mechanisms for when his dad hit his mom extra hard and he felt like crying his eyes out, but then later became personality traits. Feeling helpless, he would default to anger.Blair and his family later moved to the States when he was 9. He assumed this had some strategic advantages, though he didn’t know; perhaps they were quelling a growing vamp infestation, or they thought some distance would keep the potential scandal from being found out. Either way, Blair settled into his new life fairly well, gaining a few new friends, though none of whom his family would approved. Fuck 'em.Blair got his first girlfriend in high school - got dumped and heartbroken, and then his first boyfriend; the two dated for nearly five months but stopped after Blair's father saw them together.
Blair wasn't ready to come out as bi. Especially not to his father.At 18, Blair, like all those within his family, was given official training to become a hunter.
He’d known about the supernatural menace previously, knowing it was his ‘destiny’ though at the time he hardly looked at it with enthusiasm. Mostly, he’d just longed to get the hell out of the house as fast as he could. He never expected to like his job as much as he did. His real job that is.
He landed a civilian job in marketing, but that was ass-boring.He didn’t even have to give up his life of nonstop sex, alcohol and late-night to early-morning partying.
Because as it turns out, his frequented shindigs were a popular scene of vampiric activity.
Basically, he didn’t have to commute far to work.And the act of killing a vampire? The adrenaline coursed like cocaine through his veins.