Vampire the Masquerade Semi Freeform Group Game - Seattle by Night (CLOSED)

[Rebelle]

I'd like a shot at the last harpy spot

[Wolfling72]

I'd like a shot at the last harpy spot

YOu write such brilliant character concepts...I can not wait to see whatcha do.

[Nicolae]

I'll throw in my interest with my neonate Nosferatu hacktivist, Freddie, based very slightly on Mitnick from VtM: Bloodlines.

"Freddie, Nosferatu Hackvitist"

Name: Freddie Murnau

Age Category (Fledgeling/Neonate/Ancillae/Elder): Neonate

Mortal Age/Birth Year: 21 / 1977

Total Age/Year Embraced: 44 / 1999

Clan: Nosferatu

Clan Weakness: Repulsiveness

Sexuality: If it matters, Freddie is heterosexual. Given his physical appearance and talents, he is primarily into voyeurism since his transformation.

Description: Freddie was given the nickname, "Bat", due to his exceptionally large ears and his bat-like nose. His skin is the grayish-white of a corpse and is frequently grimy from the muck of the sewers. He has dark, sunken-in eyes, though decent lighting reveals that his eyes are gray. Freddie is almost entirely bald, but a few black wisps still haven't fallen out yet. Perhaps the most disturbing part of Freddie's appearance is his fangs, long and yellowing and apparently unretractable. Of course, Freddie knows that his appearance is off-putting, so to keep from making negotiations or business dealings more difficult than they have to be, he typically wears a Guy Fawkes mask and hoodie to conceal his face and ears, and sometimes a heavier wool coat over the hoodie to hide the shape of his body, as he's surprisingly wiry with narrow shoulders. He will not willingly be seen without his Guy Fawkes mask and hoodie.

Current Camarilla Status: 1 (Neonate)

Attributes

ATTRIBUTES

Strength:
Dexterity:
Stamina:
Charisma: 1
Perception: 1
Intelligence: 1
Willpower:

Skills

SKILLS

Athletics:
Brawl:
Melee:
Firearms: 1
Stealth: 1
Survival:
Security: 1
Academics: 1
Law:
Linguistics (Specific Language):
Medicine:
Occult:

Backgrounds

BACKGROUNDS

Allies: 1
Contacts: 1
Resources:
Herd:
Haven: 1

Disciplines

DISCIPLINES

In Clan Discipline 1: Animalism 1
In Clan Discipline 2: Obfuscate 1
In Clan Discipline 3: Potence 1

Brief History: Freddie was an outcast and a loner throughout much of his life, being a foster kid and a computer nerd in the 80s and 90s, and learned to accept that and thrive in those conditions. Freddie practiced manipulating people and computer systems into doing exactly what he wanted them to do. He took to being a Nosferatu fairly well, after the initial shock and depression, and upon being integrated into Kindred society as best a Nosferatu can, he became somewhat voyeuristic. Hacking security cameras, installing webcams, or planting a listening device here or there, Freddie wants to watch the goings-on in the city, Kindred and kine alike. Maybe it's because his he's trying to understand the society he never fully connected with. Maybe it's to keep his information fresh. Or maybe, just maybe, Freddie likes to watch.

Freddie, or "the Bat" as he's sometimes called, knows that information is valuable, and he is very much available for work, whether it's information, spyware, or security footage you need. He may seem like a loner at heart, but when there's payment involved, he's your best friend.

Freddie was born in eastern Washington state to a single, alcoholic mom with a penchant for dangerous boyfriends. He never knew his father and after having the police answer several domestic violence calls at their home and arrest his mother for several DUIs, he was taken into foster care at the age of 8. Along with the move to foster care came a brand new school on the coast in Seattle, and in the new environment, Freddie's talent with computers became evident. Within a few years, he had progressed from playing games and dealing with temperamental computers to writing his own programs and repairing the computers when they crashed. Freddie's aptitude drew the attention of a few jealous kids who would bully him on occasion early in high school, but those he couldn't manipulate into leaving him alone faced a different fate: Freddie would hack into the school's database and alter their grades, causing them to be transferred into remedial classes and away from him.
By the time he graduated high school and the Internet had become a part of his life, he was a fully-fledged hacker, writing both malicious and benign programs that he started selling to interested parties online, anonymously, from his laptop in his dormroom. He hadn't been making a fortune, but it had paid for his first three years of college at University of Washington, and honed his programming and hacking skills to what he had thought was their peak. In October 1999, near the beginning of his senior year in college, he had begun experimenting with the code necessary to create his own search engine, which he wanted to be different from the popular search engines of the day in that it searched farther and deeper into the recesses of the Internet. What he didn't expect his mutated search engine would dredge up, while his roommates were at a Halloween party, no less, was some kind of parallel Internet, piggybacked onto the real Internet, that contained...well, at first he didn't know what to make of it. References to something called "kindred" and reports of strange activity in various cities around the world. Then, his computer crashed and he could only see the 'Blue Screen of Death.' While he spent the next hour alone in his dormroom trying to reboot his computer and search through his files to get back to that weird piggybacked network (only to find his search engine's database corrupted), across the country his location had been traced and his whereabouts phoned in to a local Nosferatu named Greta Schroeder. She was sent to kill him to protect the Masquerade, but when she made her way into the dorm, disguised by Mask of a Thousand Faces, and met him in person, she saw a potential in him that she wanted to put to her own use, rather than snuff out entirely.
For his part, Freddie was surprised to see a lovely woman on the other side of his door, and when she started asking about the activities of the past hour, he wondered just what trouble he had gotten himself into. When she asked about his talent with computers, he felt more comfortable, thinking he was going to be recruited into some secret government project or something. And after a few more minutes' conversation, she lunged for his neck and sank her fangs into his skin.
When Freddie awoke, he was horrified to find that he had been changed, he had been turned into some kind of a freak with big, pointed ears and huge, sharp fangs, or tusks more like it, and that he was in a sewer with another freakish person...but in retrospect, he's quite happy she brought his laptop along, sealed up in a garbage bag to keep the sewage out.
Over the past few years, the Bat has spent the majority of his free time spying on the activities (both online and offline) of the kine and some Kindred of Seattle. He still sells/barters the software he writes, but his true passion now is the accumulation of information, which can be much more lucrative than selling the odd virus here or spyware there.

[Wolfling72]

I'll throw in my interest with my neonate Nosferatu hacktivist, Freddie, based very slightly on Mitnick from VtM: Bloodlines. (Sheet forthcoming)

YAY...A Nossie!!

[LunarSage]

I'd like a shot at the last harpy spot

Awesome!  You've got it!

I'll throw in my interest with my neonate Nosferatu hacktivist, Freddie, based very slightly on Mitnick from VtM: Bloodlines.

"Freddie, Nosferatu Hackvitist"

Name: Freddie Murnau

Age Category (Fledgeling/Neonate/Ancillae/Elder): Neonate

Mortal Age/Birth Year: 21 / 1977

Total Age/Year Embraced: 44 / 1999

Clan: Nosferatu

Clan Weakness: Repulsiveness

Sexuality: If it matters, Freddie is heterosexual. Given his physical appearance and talents, he is primarily into voyeurism since his transformation.

Description: Freddie was given the nickname, "Bat", due to his exceptionally large ears and his bat-like nose. His skin is the grayish-white of a corpse and is frequently grimy from the muck of the sewers. He has dark, sunken-in eyes, though decent lighting reveals that his eyes are gray. Freddie is almost entirely bald, but a few black wisps still haven't fallen out yet. Perhaps the most disturbing part of Freddie's appearance is his fangs, long and yellowing and apparently unretractable. Of course, Freddie knows that his appearance is off-putting, so to keep from making negotiations or business dealings more difficult than they have to be, he typically wears a Guy Fawkes mask and hoodie to conceal his face and ears, and sometimes a heavier wool coat over the hoodie to hide the shape of his body, as he's surprisingly wiry with narrow shoulders. He will not willingly be seen without his Guy Fawkes mask and hoodie.

Current Camarilla Status: 1 (Neonate)

Attributes

ATTRIBUTES

Strength:
Dexterity:
Stamina:
Charisma: 1
Perception: 1
Intelligence: 1
Willpower:

Skills

SKILLS

Athletics:
Brawl:
Melee:
Firearms: 1
Stealth: 1
Survival:
Security: 1
Academics: 1
Law:
Linguistics (Specific Language):
Medicine:
Occult:

Backgrounds

BACKGROUNDS

Allies:
Contacts: 1
Resources:
Herd:
Haven:

Disciplines

DISCIPLINES

In Clan Discipline 1: Animalism 1
In Clan Discipline 2: Obfuscate 1
In Clan Discipline 3: Potence 1

Brief History: Freddie was an outcast and a loner throughout much of his life, being a foster kid and a computer nerd in the 80s and 90s, and learned to accept that and thrive in those conditions. Freddie practiced manipulating people and computer systems into doing exactly what he wanted them to do. He took to being a Nosferatu fairly well, after the initial shock and depression, and upon being integrated into Kindred society as best a Nosferatu can, he became somewhat voyeuristic. Hacking security cameras, installing webcams, or planting a listening device here or there, Freddie wants to watch the goings-on in the city, Kindred and kine alike. Maybe it's because his he's trying to understand the society he never fully connected with. Maybe it's to keep his information fresh. Or maybe, just maybe, Freddie likes to watch.

Freddie, or "the Bat" as he's sometimes called, knows that information is valuable, and he is very much available for work, whether it's information, spyware, or security footage you need. He may seem like a loner at heart, but when there's payment involved, he's your best friend.

Freddie was born in eastern Washington state to a single, alcoholic mom with a penchant for dangerous boyfriends. He never knew his father and after having the police answer several domestic violence calls at their home and arrest his mother for several DUIs, he was taken into foster care at the age of 8. Along with the move to foster care came a brand new school on the coast in Seattle, and in the new environment, Freddie's talent with computers became evident. Within a few years, he had progressed from playing games and dealing with temperamental computers to writing his own programs and repairing the computers when they crashed. Freddie's aptitude drew the attention of a few jealous kids who would bully him on occasion early in high school, but those he couldn't manipulate into leaving him alone faced a different fate: Freddie would hack into the school's database and alter their grades, causing them to be transferred into remedial classes and away from him.
By the time he graduated high school and the Internet had become a part of his life, he was a fully-fledged hacker, writing both malicious and benign programs that he started selling to interested parties online, anonymously, from his laptop in his dormroom. He hadn't been making a fortune, but it had paid for his first three years of college at University of Washington, and honed his programming and hacking skills to what he had thought was their peak. In October 1999, near the beginning of his senior year in college, he had begun experimenting with the code necessary to create his own search engine, which he wanted to be different from the popular search engines of the day in that it searched farther and deeper into the recesses of the Internet. What he didn't expect his mutated search engine would dredge up, while his roommates were at a Halloween party, no less, was some kind of parallel Internet, piggybacked onto the real Internet, that contained...well, at first he didn't know what to make of it. References to something called "kindred" and reports of strange activity in various cities around the world. Then, his computer crashed and he could only see the 'Blue Screen of Death.' While he spent the next hour alone in his dormroom trying to reboot his computer and search through his files to get back to that weird piggybacked network (only to find his search engine's database corrupted), across the country his location had been traced and his whereabouts phoned in to a local Nosferatu named Greta Schroeder. She was sent to kill him to protect the Masquerade, but when she made her way into the dorm, disguised by Mask of a Thousand Faces, and met him in person, she saw a potential in him that she wanted to put to her own use, rather than snuff out entirely.
For his part, Freddie was surprised to see a lovely woman on the other side of his door, and when she started asking about the activities of the past hour, he wondered just what trouble he had gotten himself into. When she asked about his talent with computers, he felt more comfortable, thinking he was going to be recruited into some secret government project or something. And after a few more minutes' conversation, she lunged for his neck and sank her fangs into his skin.
When Freddie awoke, he was horrified to find that he had been changed, he had been turned into some kind of a freak with big, pointed ears and huge, sharp fangs, or tusks more like it, and that he was in a sewer with another freakish person...but in retrospect, he's quite happy she brought his laptop along, sealed up in a garbage bag to keep the sewage out.
Over the past few years, the Bat has spent the majority of his free time spying on the activities (both online and offline) of the kine and some Kindred of Seattle. He still sells/barters the software he writes, but his true passion now is the accumulation of information, which can be much more lucrative than selling the odd virus here or spyware there.

Looks great, but you still have 2 backgrounds points to use.

[Nicolae]

Looks great, but you still have 2 backgrounds points to use.

Taken care of. Not sure why I read that as Neonates started with 1.

[LunarSage]

Taken care of. Not sure why I read that as Neonates started with 1.

No worries and you are approved.   :-)

Come say hi in the OOC thread or on Discord.

[AndyZ]

Is it cool to pop on the Discord before we have a character?

EDIT:

Hmmm...is there a character limit?  I may even just throw up a mortal while I'm still fighting off this cold.

[LunarSage]

Is it cool to pop on the Discord before we have a character?

Of course.  Come on in.  :-)

EDIT:

Hmmm...is there a character limit?  I may even just throw up a mortal while I'm still fighting off this cold.

Starting with 3 PCs per player.

[RegretNot]

Alcee

Name: Alcee Baptiste (Pen Name: John Godwin)

Age Category : Neonate

Mortal Age/Birth Year: 34 / 1963

Total Age/Year Embraced: 68 / 1987

Clan: Malkavian

Clan Weakness: Derangement: Sanguinary Animism

Sexuality: Heteroflexible

Description (Plus Pictures here): Alcee stands a little bit over six foot with dirty blonde hair and green eyes that shine in low light trying to drink in it.  Wearing usually dressy casual attire but can swing wildly based on his mood for the night and what he is up to.  A lithe build that lends to an active lifestyle but not overly muscular.  The way his gaze can transfix on something betrays a level of deep thought below. 



Current Camarilla Status: 1

Attributes

ATTRIBUTES

Strength: 0
Dexterity: 1
Stamina: 0
Charisma: 0
Perception: 1
Intelligence: 1
Willpower: 0

Skills

SKILLS

Athletics:
Brawl:
Melee:
Firearms: 1
Stealth: 1
Survival:
Security:
Academics: 1
Law:
Linguistics (Specific Language):
Medicine:
Occult: 1

Backgrounds

BACKGROUNDS

Allies:
Contacts: 1
Resources: 1
Herd:
Haven: 1

Disciplines

DISCIPLINES

Auspex: 1
Dementation: 1
Obfuscate: 1

Brief History: Alcee was born in Houma, Louisiana to a fisherman in his pa in Jean Baptiste and his mother a social butterfly in Marie Baptiste.  His upbringing was humble but the stories that his father weaved through his journeys around the Gulf of Mexico and doing other odd jobs on boats earlier in his life were filled with things that sounded like fantasy.  Alcee was expected to follow his families long history of getting a trade and learning it to set a substantial life for his family.  Books however took hold of him at a young age and when his father heard he wanted to make money by writing stories for a living he laughed it off.  It wasn't until working at a masonry and writing in his free time that he completed a book and offered his father to read it.  The old fisherman changed his heart and encouraged his boy to continue and helped him get the money to get published.  The first story of a man named Gregory that followed an epic adventure through the Gulf Coast caught the eye of a benefactor. 
Stephen Boudreaux saw the promise in Alcee and through three years formed a friendship until exposing him to the world under his own of immortal beings when he offered his blood to him.  Stephen, a Toreador, so fully enrapt to hear how Alcee could use his gifts for words to paint such fanciful landscapes of stories and worlds.  Helping write speeches and prepare for Salons while being given time to write his own stories and get his books published Alcee was a loyal servant to Stephen.  His world would be ripped asunder by the political tensions that he wasn't even aware of.  Enter Angel Foreman, a Malkavian, who wanted to take from Stephen as she had perceived he had done to her.  Boons were exchanged and when the way to settle his debt was to allow her to sire his ghoul in Alcee it left little option but to allow it by the end.  Not understanding nor liking being treated as a mere prize it enraged Alcee to not avail. 
Turned and soon only taught the basics before Angel moved on leaving the fledging barely presented and sorting through the grapple of his clan's gift.  Left so certain that each time he drank from anyone that he took a part of their soul, could feel them for a time and through it channeled characters that were not fictional at all.  It took him many years of being locked down with nothing more than his writing to grapple with it.  With control came good fortune using a pen name to publish under and take control of his unlife.  Now more method than he cares for in his writing it had reached a audience and afforded him a life.  There came more understanding and good standing in the Camarilla while his own assignments for characters has left him an interesting array of skills along with the ability to craft one riveting story.  Now in Seattle he is ready to continue to write his own story through his actions. 

[Rebelle]

YOu write such brilliant character concepts...I can not wait to see whatcha do.

Aww thank you so much Wolfling...

The same could definitely be said for yourself :)

[Josietta]

I'm gonna work on a pair of twin Brujahs. Both from Texas, both cowboy/girls with a southern drawl and all that fun.

[Rebelle]

Here she is so far

... I somehow don't think 'brief' is going to be the history.... >.>

And I screwed up my coding, I'll fix that later on

Jordan Kinsey

Name: Jordan Kinsey

Age Category (Fledgeling/Neonate/Ancillae/Elder): Neonate

Mortal Age/Birth Year:

Total Age/Year Embraced:

Clan: Toreador

Clan Weakness: Lost in Beauty

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Description (Plus Pictures here):  Jordan Kinsey stands a stunning 5'6 though with her high heels that could range from 5'8 to 6 foot tall depending on whatever shoe might take her fancy.  However, it isn't the shoes that makes the woman, nor is it the outfits that she wears - as it could be anything from retro punk to a very well put together outfit sure to dazzle the nightlife.  It is simply all of Jordan Kinsey from the tips of her toes to the very crown of her head that makes the woman who she is.  Stunning blue eyes typically lined in kohl, a smile that exudes genuine warmth, and the elegance and grace of someone who knows that the room could revolve around her if so chose to do so.  She speaks with an English accent, and depending on the situation she could speak with absolute posh and proper tones, or downright common. 




Current Camarilla Status: Harpy

Attributes

ATTRIBUTES

Strength:0
Dexterity:0
Stamina:0
Charisma:1
Perception:1
Intelligence:1
Willpower:0

Skills

SKILLS

Athletics:
Brawl:1
Melee: 1
Firearms:
Stealth: 1
Survival:
Security: 1
Academics:
Law:
Linguistics (Specific Language):
Medicine:
Occult:

Backgrounds

BACKGROUNDS

Allies:
Contacts:
Resources:1
Herd:1
Haven:1

Disciplines

DISCIPLINES

Auspex:1
Celerity:1
Presence:1

Brief History:The story is always the same isn’t it?

Vampire finds hapless mortal that they want to turn into their pet, their childe, their kin, and the hapless little mortal is stuck wondering what in the hell just happened.  Would love to say that the same thing had happened to Jordan Kinsey, but to be quite honest – the truth… the story of how it all happened is screwed up, even by Kindred terms.  Vampires aren’t the bright and flashy characters people see in movies or in novels.  They don’t sparkle when they’re out in the sun.  They sure as hell don’t somehow magically get cured of their vampirism, and they can be worse than the monsters that have been on the silver screen. 

These are the things you need to remember before we proceed with this tale of cautionary woe.

Of circumstances beyond the control of a mortal.

Jordan Kinsey grew up in England, Bristol to be exact.  The only child of Emily and George Kinsey, two people who were most assuredly not suited for one another.  Emily was born with a silver spoon in her mouth and her pinky finger raised up in the air during tea time.  George was a hard working fellow who owned his own boxing gym and pub.  What had been a tryst, an attraction between bad boy and blue blood girl turned into marriage when Emily realized that she was pregnant, and the same year Winston Churchill became the PM of England.. Jordan Kinsey was born.  The addition of their lovely daughter did nothing for Emily and George, and soon the woman took to long vacations to her family’s estate without her daughter, until finally one day Emily did not return.  A solicitor arrived a month later informing George of an annulment, something that would have been unheard of with a child, and yet… There it was, black and white.  George was rather content with the knowledge that he would never have to deal with Emily and her snobbish prudish ways again, content with the knowledge he would be raising his daughter the way in which he chose.  Content without the harpy clinging to his shoulders, things were as normal as they could be for a divorced father raising his daughter in the 60’s.

For Jordan, her upbringing was unconventional, and while it was lacking the money that her mother’s family could bequeath upon the blonde haired precocious child, she was left for nothing.  Save for not being allowed into the boxing gym, and instead forced to take ballet lessons and piano lessons.  Her father insisted that she took an interest in things of the fairer sex, so that none could say she was raised a barbarian.  It was not until her twelfth birthday that Jordan finally convinced her father that she could be feminine as well as a boxer in the most outrageous way possible, she set her ballet slippers on fire along with her tutu right before a rather important recital.  For all George’s hard work trying to keep his daughter out of the gym, it was apparent that this was not to be the case and soon she was being trained in the off hours when none of the regular clientele were around, and she took to it like a fish to water.

Jordan went away for college, her father as well as the regulars who were more like family than her mother and those relations ever could have been – having saved enough for her tuition.  There she studied the classics, history, as well as music – her voice on par with that of the guitar and the piano in which she so readily enjoyed.  Not only did she find herself flourishing at university, she also found love and by her junior year she was engaged.   Peter was the boy whom her father approved of, and knew that he would take good care of his Jordan when he was no longer one with the mortal coil, which would be soon – though his daughter was not aware of this.  Even when she and Peter arrived for Christmas their senior year at uni, she still had not a single idea that her father was ill.  Instead, she sang for those who came into the pub, every night performing for those who had given her and her father so much.  It was on this night she had caught the attention of a man known as Salvatore.  A rather handsome man, though his eyes were cruel and made Jordan uncomfortable when she was in the room with him.  She swore up and down she could feel him watching her.  She told her father as much and Peter as well. 

Unfortunately, this was also the thing that sealed her fate.

Peter confronted Salvatore, telling him to stay away from Jordan and away from the pub, he wasn’t welcome there.  Salvatore insisted that there was nothing to be fearful of, unless Peter was afraid a real man could take away his beautiful blonde princess.  There was no physical altercation, but Peter warned Salvatore away from the woman and that he would regret it if he came back.  Three nights later, Peter was found dead, lying face down in the Avon Estuary.  However, oddly enough – there was no water in his lungs at the time of his death, something that did not make sense to Jordan, but in her grief it was forgotten about.  It was her grief that fueled her performance, singing at his Irish Wake, soulful, melodic, and some would even call entrancing, as tears fell from her blue eyes, she sang of the broken parts of her soul.   Three nights after that, Salvatore came to her after she had closed the pub for the night.  Pinning her to the wall, he told her in sordid detail how he killed Peter, how he felt the way his heart stopped, and how he damned her with his final words, knowing that it was because of the blonde woman that he was dying.  How now Salvatore can take away all that pain, all she had to do was let him.  Jordan fought until the very bitter end, but soon her throat was savaged, teeth ripping at her flesh draining her lifesblood until he forced his blood into her mouth and forced her to drink.

That night she was removed from the mortal coil.

Yet she still lived.

~~

Jordan was a prisoner of Salvatore’s, having been created without the permission of the Prince of the city.  This and other things were hard for Jordan to understand at first, how things… Things truly were – how the vampires known as Kindred hid in the shadows amongst the humans.. The Kine without them even knowing it due to what was known as the Masquerade.  Jordan was taught of her clan, the Toreador, taught that her blood was powerful in it’s own right, and how there were those would seek out to destroy her for their own benefit, for their own gain, or for their own amusement.  Salvatore had not received permission to create Jordan as his childer, yet when one is as old as Salvatore, one always has favors, and soon, he was given permission to do as such- who cared if she had already been made or not?  Certainly not anyone who mattered. 

She was his prisoner still, even when she was at Elysium, even when she was in the presence of others.  She was Salvatore’s pet, and everyone knew it, and no one would dare help the Rose with the angelic voice.  However, Salvatore ached for Jordan to love him, to care for him as she cared for Peter; so she was given the allowance of seeing her father who had now become sick, to sit at his bedside, to spend time with him.  It was only in these moments that Jordan was given freedom, to be away from the monster known as her sire.  While she took care of her father, she also focused on getting out, getting free.  He may have made her a Toreador, he may have been her sire, but she refused to be  anything like him.  So, Jordan planned, Jordan plotted.   The Art of War had been something that fascinated Jordan when she was still human, when she was growing up and a man who rented part of her father’s gym created a Dojo spoke to her of combat, of war, of how to keep one’s head.  She took those lessons and put them to use now, along with her focus at university.  Intricate plans had to be made, though time was short as she knew her father, her beloved father who had done so much for her, was close to death.  Jordan had wrestled with the thought of perhaps turning him, of using her blood to give him strength, but then in her mind she knew that she would be no better than Salvatore himself, so she stayed her inclinations and did the only thing she could do – make him smile, make him feel loved, and to look over him as he had looked over her all those years. 

Her father finally succumbed to his illness, passing away peacefully in the middle of the night with his daughter by his side.  An Irish wake was held for her beloved father, and when he was laid to rest, Jordan’s plan was put into motion.  She had gained a few friends amongst her clan, a few friends as well within the Brujah.  They were tired of Salvatore holding their prince by strings, his power had become too great.  A coup was in order, a coup was what occurred and in the chaos of usurping the prince – who had clearly been a puppet placed in charge by Salvatore and once the Prince’s own crimes had come to light, as he had been blackmailed by the Peacock Rose, he was forced out of court and left Salvatore to stand for his crimes.  The crimes were many and grand, those who had felt terror due to the Prince, were now able to speak freely.  Stripped of his status, his holdings being bequeathed unto the Toreador Clan, and he was left uninvited within the city.  This inflamed the pompous man, who swore revenge and even attempted to take it out that very night in Elysium.  When power is stripped from someone, they thrash like a caged animal it would seem.  He was escorted out of the city, but this was no safe space for the blonde haired beauty.   Jordan Kinsey was not allowed a moment to gloat over the failure of her sire, she was quickly sent on the run – not that they did not wish the Rose to remain, but because they knew one day Salvatore would try once more to take back what he was ‘his’ and nothing and no one would stand in his way.

Jordan fled her country and entered into America, and needless to say… The Yanks definitely were of a different culture compared to England.  Not that that was a bad thing.  Here in this country she could put plenty of space, of miles between her and her sire who no doubt would one day decide to rear his ugly head.  The only thing Jordan could hope for was that she would be strong enough to face down the devil himself when that time came.  She first made contact with the American Kindred within New York, making her way slowly but surely every few years, never daring to stay too long in one place just in case.  The last thing she wanted to do was to bring Salvatore down upon those who were innocent… Or at least innocent when it came to the matters of the blonde woman.  Though there was something to be said for Jordan Kinsey and her abilities, her natural grace, her demeanor.  Every court she arrived in, she was welcomed.  Every court she arrived in, she found purpose.  First it was simply as an Assistant Keeper to Elysium.  Then in the next city, she became a Keeper of Elysium.  Then the next city, it was deputy to the Sheriff.  It amused and astounded members of court that someone as such as she, was far more than just a pretty little face.  And not only was she a pretty face, but there was a beautiful mind underneath of it with a fine business acumen.  What better way to help preside over the arts than to assist young up and coming musicians?  Jordan created the Bitter Rose Record Productions, it was tongue in cheek in a lot of ways, what was once a crude nickname gifted to her by someone of the Tremere clan, she had turned into a moniker and a point of pride.  The Tremere in question?  He became amused and humored by such a defiant act and had become a true friend to the Toreador until she departed the city and continued to move on, much to the chagrin of some.

After all – Vampires don’t move regularly, yet Jordan found herself needing to put even more space between her and her sire, always believing he would be upon her heels at any given moment.

Finally, she arrived within Seattle, and making a rather remarkable debut as of sorts.  It wasn’t in a beautiful dress nor was it in a flashy entrance.  No, see.. that would never do for someone such as Jordan.  In fact, there was something to be said to make sure there were those who were aware of her abilities before ever even seeing her.  She had heard some.. rumors… a little bit of gossip.  A small boat was coming to dock in the late hours, flesh to be peddled for the Setites, illegal immigrants who would no doubt be used and abused and thrown away without anyone ever knowing their name.  A harbor master who was well known for being dirty had been paid by someone higher up to look the other way.  The harbor master was also someone who had a penchant for young pretty things, and sometimes let things slip without even realizing it.  It took a week to get the information, disseminate it and come up with a plan before the boat arrived.  Six souls.. Six souls that had been ripped from their homes and it rankled something deep within the Bitter Rose.  Within the span of two hours, she freed the would be slaves of their oppressors, their would be oppressors were not going to be simply allowed to step off of the Immortal Coil.  Two perished that night, the third… brought low with tainted blood and bound tightly with zip ties -and- shackles, and delivered to the Court.  Jordan insured that those six sweet souls were placed into safety, either as retainers for those who would dare defend the Ivory Tower, or if they had family, returned after insuring that they wouldn’t remember what had happened during their time in the United States.

It was the kindness they had deserved.

And thus… That is how Jordan Kinsey made herself known to the court of Seattle.

And that is how Jordan Kinsey had become the enigma wrapped in a mystery.

And how the tale of the Bitter Rose continues.

[Wolfling72]

OMG...such great looking additions. Rebelle you don't need brief...I'll read every word. RegretNot...another Malkie?? YAY!! And finally, the Nossie is amazing and I want to pet him...

So...Lunar, the Gangrel you get today is your fault.

Just saying

[RegretNot]

Alcee ready for you to look over Lunar.

[Blythe]

Well, drat. I can't really get my brain to focus enough to finish a character for this, so I think I'll bow out. Wishing y'all a great game! <3

[Crash]

Lunar - Are Tremere still able to create blood bonds in this?  Because they can’t in the 5th edition of the game.

[Kuroneko]

Well, drat. I can't really get my brain to focus enough to finish a character for this, so I think I'll bow out. Wishing y'all a great game! <3

:-( Sad face

[LunarSage]

Lunar - Are Tremere still able to create blood bonds in this?  Because they can’t in the 5th edition of the game.

Yes they can create blood bonds.  Think of this as circa Revised but the Gangrel never left the Camarilla.

Well, drat. I can't really get my brain to focus enough to finish a character for this, so I think I'll bow out. Wishing y'all a great game! <3

Crud, that sucks.  If you should ever change your mind though, we'll be here!  :-)

Alcee ready for you to look over Lunar.

Looked over and approved!

OMG...such great looking additions. Rebelle you don't need brief...I'll read every word. RegretNot...another Malkie?? YAY!! And finally, the Nossie is amazing and I want to pet him...

So...Lunar, the Gangrel you get today is your fault.

Just saying

I take full responsibility.

[Rebelle]

Jordan Kinsey is up for approval Mr. Lunar

[LunarSage]

Jordan Kinsey is up for approval Mr. Lunar

Wow.  Bravo.  Approval is yours.

[Hatless]

Name: Vera Dalton

Age Category (Fledgeling/Neonate/Ancillae/Elder): Fledgling

Mortal Age/Birth Year: 23 / Born in 1996

Total Age/Year Embraced: 25 / Embraced in 2019

Clan: Brujah

Clan Weakness: Violent Temper

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Description: A small yet reasonably toned 5'2" frame belies the agility and the strength that Vera is capable of summoning ever since her embrace. Her face holds a hint of youthful innocence and feminine beauty, and is mercifully absent of any signs of a life spent in hardship. Natural blonde hair is left to fall freely down to roughly the bottom of her shoulder blades, complimented by the striking green of Vera's eyes. Vera has slowly learned to employ these features to their fullest advantage, disarming those that she hunts in one way or another until its too late.

Vera is by no means a fashion guru, usually only donning a casual t-shirt and jeans combo in most scenarios. Her look is meant more to help her blend in than stand out, but with her natural charisma and inherited supernatural magnetism, it can be difficult for Vera to achieve her desired results.

Current Camarilla Status: 0

Attributes

ATTRIBUTES

Strength:
Dexterity: 1
Stamina:
Charisma:
Perception:
Intelligence:
Willpower: 1

Skills

SKILLS

Athletics: 1
Brawl: 1
Melee:
Firearms:
Stealth: 1
Survival:
Security:
Academics: 1
Law:
Linguistics (Specific Language):
Medicine:
Occult:

Backgrounds

BACKGROUNDS

Allies: 1
Contacts:
Resources: 1
Herd:
Haven: 1

Disciplines

DISCIPLINES

In Clan Discipline 1: Celerity
In Clan Discipline 2: Potence
In Clan Discipline 3: Presence

Brief History: Vera is a transplant from the eastern coast of the US. She moved by herself to Los Angeles as soon as she put away a few thousand dollars and graduated high school, her imagination fueled by big dreams of a life spent beneath bright lights. Reality and imagination, as they so often do, never quite saw eye to eye.

A few years were spent in LA just barely scraping by on every little side gig that Vera could find. Maybe the next dog she walked would be owned by someone famous that could get her foot in the door? Maybe the next table that she waited on would be someone that knew a producer and they would pass along her name? Maybe the next name that she wrote on that coffee cup would belong to a movie star that knew the perfect small role for a hard-working girl just like her?

Her big break never really materialized. There were some modeling gigs here and there, an advertisement or two, an interview that sounded promising but very nearly had her end up in porn -- but never something that would put her face on the big screen. Instead, her life took a completely unexpected turn into a world she didn't know existed.

Vera's sire never intended to turn her. She was supposed to be a quick bite after a fuck-and-forget but became an accident and a heavy conscience. Against his better judgment, Vera's killer opened his own veins and brought the girl back to the land of the living -- more or less.

Vera didn't get much of an introduction into kindred society. Her sire was like an absent father, always busier with typical Brujah activities like tearing down society and pissing off as many people as possible. If Vera hadn't helped bring him down -- an action in no small part rooted in resentment for having her life stolen away -- eventually someone else would have done it for her. Or that was the story she sold to herself.

Maybe it was stupid of her to accept the Camarilla's help. But the deal they offered was too good: her aid in taking down a perpetual thorn in the side of the Camarilla in exchange for their protection and a new life in a less tumultuous part of the country.

[LunarSage]

Nice character!  You are approved.

[Wolfling72]

Here is the Gangrel that no one asked for but I warned you about.

Cat

Name: Catora "Cat" Dulane

Age Category: Neonate

Mortal Age/Birth Year: 22/December 24th, 1949

Total Age/Year Embraced:  72/1971

Clan: Gangrel

Clan Weakness: Bestial Features due to Frenzy

Sexuality: Demisexual | Hetero-romantic

Description: Cat is a slender woman who stands at about 5'5" and weighs no more than 115 pounds. That slimness belies her strength and her unutterable passion for surviving at all costs. Scrappy, tatted, pierced, and ritually scarred, each mark is proof that she made it, and she shows them off. Crop tops, low-slung jeans, and boots are her attire of choice whether she is attending Elysium, the Prince, or walking down a street. Due to three frenzies in her earlier life, her teeth are all sharply pointed. Though her eyes are dark, they contain elongated pupils and nictitating membranes (a third eyelid) like a housecat. She rarely speaks due to a voice that sounds like she swallowed broken glass (yet another change wrought by her frenzies) and tends to use her body language and expressions to get her points across. She moves with easy grace, more a stalk than a walk, and rarely smiles.

Current Camarilla Status: 1

Attributes

ATTRIBUTES

Strength:
Dexterity: 1
Stamina: 1
Charisma:
Perception: 1
Intelligence:
Willpower:

Skills

SKILLS

Athletics:
Brawl: 1
Melee: 1
Firearms:
Stealth: 1
Survival:
Security:
Academics: 1
Law:
Linguistics:
Medicine:
Occult:

Backgrounds

BACKGROUNDS

Allies:
Contacts: 1
Resources: 1
Herd: 1
Haven:

Disciplines

DISCIPLINES

Animalism: 1
Fortitude: 1
Protean: 1

Brief History: Cat came of age in the '60s, a brown girl from a good household in upper New York state who was never happy with the status quo. Though she was an avid reader and loved to learn, she never believed that her life would be improved solely with book knowledge, so she spent years searching out new thrills, new experiences, and new things to conquer. This included mountain climbing, car racing, roller derby, pickpocketing, and amateur boxing,. She was fearless and roamed further afield every time she left home until at age 18; she just never went back.

By then, she was heavily involved with jazz, but as beat poetry grew in popularity, she shifted her attention to that and learning all she could from the masters of the time: Allen Ginsburg, Gregory Corso, Robert Duncan, and others. With so few women involved in the Beat scene and no actual brown folk at all, she spent her time fighting to be heard and raising awareness about the plight of black and brown folk in America, dealing with racism and sexism on an almost daily basis. Though she had graduated from high school and could have attended a decent college, Cat maintained that her education needed to happen out in the world. In fact, she hitchhiked from the east to west coast just after she turned 19 and honed her theft and panhandling skills along the way. That journey took 4 months.

She protested the war in Vietnam, marched for women's reproductive rights, fought against feminists who told her she didn't understand their plight and basically made a right nuisance of herself to everyone all through the tail end of the 60s. She felt it was worth it and continued to march, speak, protest and fight right up until the night of her embrace, which happened in San Francisco. Her Sire explained that he'd watched her for well over a year every time he visited the city. He admired her strength of will as well as her purity of purpose. She spent one month with him, out in the wilds, avoiding the cities unless it was time to feed. At the end of that month, he walked away and told her to do her best to survive.

She hasn't seen him since...but she is still here.

Cat arrived in Seattle almost 25 years ago. In that time, she's managed to build a little nest egg though she doesn't have a permanent home base. Due to her love of the beat scene,  she has kept a few contacts in both the music and publishing business, though not under her own name and usually via snail or e-mail.  She also keeps a small herd of street kids for feeding so that there is no chance of accidentally killing someone. She can spread the tastes out.  It has worked so far...

Face claim: Milloux Suicide

[LunarSage]

Here is the Gangrel that no one asked for but I warned you about.

Cat

Name: Catora "Cat" Dulane

Age Category: Neonate

Mortal Age/Birth Year: 22/December 24th, 1949

Total Age/Year Embraced:  72/1971

Clan: Gangrel

Clan Weakness: Bestial Features due to Frenzy

Sexuality: Demisexual | Hetero-romantic

Description: Cat is a slender woman who stands at about 5'5" and weighs no more than 115 pounds. That slimness belies her strength and her unutterable passion for surviving at all costs. Scrappy, tatted, pierced, and ritually scarred, each mark is proof that she made it, and she shows them off. Crop tops, low-slung jeans, and boots are her attire of choice whether she is attending Elysium, the Prince, or walking down a street. Due to three frenzies in her earlier life, her teeth are all sharply pointed. Though her eyes are dark, they contain elongated pupils and nictitating membranes (a third eyelid) like a housecat. She rarely speaks due to a voice that sounds like she swallowed broken glass (yet another change wrought by her frenzies) and tends to use her body language and expressions to get her points across. She moves with easy grace, more a stalk than a walk, and rarely smiles.

Current Camarilla Status: 1

Attributes

ATTRIBUTES

Strength:
Dexterity: 1
Stamina: 1
Charisma:
Perception: 1
Intelligence:
Willpower:

Skills

SKILLS

Athletics:
Brawl: 1
Melee: 1
Firearms:
Stealth: 1
Survival:
Security:
Academics: 1
Law:
Linguistics:
Medicine:
Occult:

Backgrounds

BACKGROUNDS

Allies:
Contacts: 1
Resources: 1
Herd: 1
Haven:

Disciplines

DISCIPLINES

Animalism: 1
Fortitude: 1
Protean: 1

Brief History: Cat came of age in the '60s, a brown girl from a good household in upper New York state who was never happy with the status quo. Though she was an avid reader and loved to learn, she never believed that her life would be improved solely with book knowledge, so she spent years searching out new thrills, new experiences, and new things to conquer. This included mountain climbing, car racing, roller derby, pickpocketing, and amateur boxing,. She was fearless and roamed further afield every time she left home until at age 18; she just never went back.

By then, she was heavily involved with jazz, but as beat poetry grew in popularity, she shifted her attention to that and learning all she could from the masters of the time: Allen Ginsburg, Gregory Corso, Robert Duncan, and others. With so few women involved in the Beat scene and no actual brown folk at all, she spent her time fighting to be heard and raising awareness about the plight of black and brown folk in America, dealing with racism and sexism on an almost daily basis. Though she had graduated from high school and could have attended a decent college, Cat maintained that her education needed to happen out in the world. In fact, she hitchhiked from the east to west coast just after she turned 19 and honed her theft and panhandling skills along the way. That journey took 4 months.

She protested the war in Vietnam, marched for women's reproductive rights, fought against feminists who told her she didn't understand their plight and basically made a right nuisance of herself to everyone all through the tail end of the 60s. She felt it was worth it and continued to march, speak, protest and fight right up until the night of her embrace, which happened in San Francisco. Her Sire explained that he'd watched her for well over a year every time he visited the city. He admired her strength of will as well as her purity of purpose. She spent one month with him, out in the wilds, avoiding the cities unless it was time to feed. At the end of that month, he walked away and told her to do her best to survive.

She hasn't seen him since...but she is still here.

Cat arrived in Seattle almost 25 years ago. In that time, she's managed to build a little nest egg though she doesn't have a permanent home base. Due to her love of the beat scene,  she has kept a few contacts in both the music and publishing business, though not under her own name and usually via snail or e-mail.  She also keeps a small herd of street kids for feeding so that there is no chance of accidentally killing someone. She can spread the tastes out.  It has worked so far...

Face claim: Milloux Suicide

Very cool.  Approved.