CLOSE CBOX
OPEN CBOX
Unmasqued




Helen Morgan
Player: Kresyda
Species: Vampire
Bloodline: Ventrue
Pronouns: she/her
Characters:
How to contact me:

First Impression: Helen Morgan’s big, brown eyes usually reflect determination and concentration. She presents to the world a calm, professional face. Her olive skin is smooth, her black hair glossy and cut short. The Kindred (yes, she calls herself that) values elegant simplicity: she wears light makeup and a women’s suit – usually black, because really, blood stains are so visible on fabrics of other colors.

Year of Birth: 1971

Year of Embrace: 1998

Concept: Ventrue upbringing can be very harsh, and Helen learnt it first-hand.

In life, she was a young, talented, yet underappreciated woman – trying to climb up the corporate ladder proved an ordeal, especially since some stupid old pricks would rather see her as an eternal secretary than a competent head director.

Her efforts didn’t go without notice, though – Helen drew attention of a party she didn’t even expect to exist. The aspiring corporate worker was embraced by a well-groomed if rather pale man claiming his name was Jeremy Fabron and telling her (in a most convincing way) that she had been extremely lucky to be chosen as a new member of the venerable clan Ventrue, the Camarilla’s finest. The man promised Helen they would build an undying empire together – an empire related both to business and politics.

And then he locked her up in a small, though comfortable room, told her she was going to spend there some 20 or 30 years until he was satisfied with her progress – because she was to learn about the ways of the Kindred society before he could show her in front of other Blue Bloods, the Primogen, and – most of all – the Prince. And she wouldn’t want to shame him, now, would she?

Unfortunately, she wouldn’t. Furious as she was, Helen felt a strange need to please her sire.

After a year, something happened. Fabron suddenly stormed into the room, eyes gleaming red with panic. He was beyond himself, shouted incoherent blabberings about the end times – but the young childe understood none of it. Instead, she realized that the love for the man, the willingness to please him so strong it exceeded any sense of dignity – it somehow evaporated. She bashed the unexpecting vampire in the head until he was unconscious, and then she drank his vitae until there was nothing left to suck. She couldn’t say whether it was of her own volition, or did the Beast take reign.

It turned out most of the Kindred ended up real dead for some reason Helen didn’t fully comprehend. Worse even: the Masquerade was shattered (did the Sabbat orchestrate all of this?). The first few weeks of her newly earned freedom the young fledgeling spent holed up in her sire’s haven, dreading any wannabe hunters who might show up during daylight.

But they never did. Apparently, mortals were too stupid to dispose of the obvious threat. Too compassionate, too humane. Uh, was she also like that once? She couldn’t tell.

So being a vampire wasn’t a crime, but feeding was – which for Helen counted as a death sentence anyway. Yeah, right, the humane mortals sold animal blood now, but guess what? She couldn’t digest it. Hell, she couldn’t even digest any human blood. All Ventrue had very particular tastes.

Helen actually wondered if there was anything left of the clan. Any elders that would still welcome a helpless fledgeling to the structures? That would expect her to behave, and to know her place, and not to stain the memory of her deceased sire, God have mercy on his soul?

Well, if humane mortals ruled her life needs illegal, then illegal she shall be. Although it was against her up-to-present curriculum, Helen joined a street gang. The members laughed at her at first, an upstanding citizen as she seemed, but soon they learnt about the usefulness of having a charismatic predator with inhuman abilities among their ranks. In exchange, they provided a safe shelter during the day, and helped with hunting.

In the years that followed, the Rippers gang was thriving, and Helen rose to the position of the leader’s right hand. Their territory increased, and she convinced the boss – a convenient puppet, really – to add to drug dealing and human trafficking a new kind of revenue: the blood black market. They would be pioneers, Helen argued. And with time, the population of Kindred is bound to increase again, even if embraces were outlawed, too.

It was dubbed ‘the black blood’, ‘the black juice’, sometimes simply ‘the juice’. It quickly became the thing: even humane mortals sometimes came to get their share, God knows for what purpose, these disgusting hypocrite kinks. The gang put up a few well hidden and guarded ‘blood farms’, they also gave away enormous bribes to police and government, but the trade still paid off.

So after all – yes, Helen managed to build foundations for her own little empire. Maybe she should consider creating her own brood as well? Some of the gang members showed keen interest in embrace. Sometimes they went so far as to call her ‘the Queen Mother’ – of course if the boss wasn’t close enough to hear.

Feeding restriction: Since Helen diablerized her sire while he was under extreme stress, she found out she's attracted to blood of people who go through some kind of emotional turmoil. The exact nature of the disturbance doesn't matter (it can be a mental derrangement, stress related to some life situation: divorce, job loss, etc.) as long as the state is prolonged (i.e. a victim who just got sad as most people do, but will cheer up the same day does not count).

Disciplines:
Dominate 3 (Command, Mesmerize, The Forgetful Mind)
Fortitude 1