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#Post#: 1133--------------------------------------------------
Blank
By: JessiLaVergne Date: August 17, 2012, 11:05 pm
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Clan
Nosferatu
Apparent Age
Undescernable
Height
5' 6"
Weight
167 lbs
Hair
Red
Eyes
Blue
Notable Features
Blank has a constant smell of burnt flesh about her along with a
missing nose, ears, and lips. What can be seen of her skin is
thin-looking and bright red, almost resembling the skin of a
baby with harlequin ichthyosis. There isn't a single natural
hair visible, though she has taken a liking to wearing wigs.
Bio:
I feel a need to write this down, though the only reason for
such a feeling, I guess, is to make sure I don't forget the
details. I'll never forget the big picture, that's for sure,
but sometimes the details can tell more than the sum of a
story's parts. And now I'm rambling. If I'm not careful,
Malkies will seem normal compared to me.
My name is [REDACTED]. Well, my mortal name. With the face I
have now I can hardly go by that monicker anymore. Now I go by
Blank; it feels fitting for one of my profession. I was born in
[REDACTED], Australia in 1939, smack in the middle of the second
Great War. All I remember from that time was a great deal of
fuss about Axis and Allied powers. By the time I was six, it
was all wrapped up anyway, so I didn't really concern myself
about it. I was practically a baby; what did I care about Nazis
and nuclear bombs?
Getting off track again. I was the fourth among six children
to a couple of entrepeneurs. I learned how to avoid the various
poison nasties that would invariably be around the home and how
to take care of myself. Did you know that, by the third child,
parents leave the parenting to the eldest siblings? Did you
also know those siblings often shirked those duties to attend to
their own devices? You tend to learn how to cook for yourself
and take care of your own scrapes and bruises early on. I also
learned the value of blackmail. The eldest of us, Mary, was a
tramp and, considering our parents were Roman Catholic, that
gave me a lot of hold over her. I had a knack for gathering the
dirt on everyone, even my own parents. It got busted from time
to time, but all that did was show me what not to do and
improve.
By high school, I was the machine behind gossip but, despite
this power I held over others, I didn't want to be in the
limelight. I knew my power stemmed from my dwelling in the
shadows where I would gather and distribute secrets to the
highest bidder. I was a peddler of information, paid in
anything from cash to illegal substances. It didn't hurt that I
was actually something of a beauty back then; red hair isn't a
common trait and very desirable. I was something like a doll; a
pretty face hiding a whole lot of trash. When I reached the
summer before sophmore year, my parents saw a huge investment
opportunity in the U.S. Nevermind the fact that they were
getting involved in another war, this time in Vietnam. I
graduated with honors and got a full-ride scholarship to some
college I never bothered with. I had decided I wanted to be a
woman of a different sort and joined the military.
It took a while and I had to jump through a variety of hoops,
but it ended in me being fully accepted with a clean bill of
health and official immigration papers. I had cut ties with my
family by then, what few ties I had. I believe it was during
my time in bootcamp that my sire, _______ as I came to know him,
began to watch me. I employed many of the same tactics I had
picked up to gather heaps of dirt on most recruits and several
drill seargents. I know it got me out of more than a couple of
"latrine duty" sessions. I got in serious trouble, though, when
I blackmailed the reigning general about the two mistresses he
had while his wife was gravely ill. Despite the bullshit, I was
court marshalled.
That's when _____ introduced himself, though through an
associate. I was brought to what I could only describe at the
time as a rat hole of a home. It was cluttered with junk of all
sorts and had an odd odor to it. I would have turned around and
left immediately if it weren't for the fact the guy offered me a
way to get my record clean. I had stepped into the heart of his
domain and two rather burly fellows blocked the only way out.
"Do you know how a rat finds food?" I couldn't see where the
voice came from or even detect which direction it came from.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and I had to
surpress a nervous gulp to keep up the unnerved guise. "They
take what they can get I guess." A dark chuckle emanated from
somewhere to my left, though I didn't turn my eyes to look.
"Oh, much more than that. They take all they can and store
it... Hide it... Use it when it's needed but take more than
could ever be wanted..." The voice seemed to echo from all over
the room, making it exceedingly difficult for me to maintain my
composure. My heart was racing, my palms sweating as my fists
clenched, ready to strike out with muscles wound as springs.
"Why the rodent trivia?" There was silence; perfect silence
save for my shallow, quieted breaths and the pounding of blood
in my ears. Finally, the gravelled voice spoke once more.
"Your pardon lies in this choice; serve your country... Or
learn the secrets of a world just beneath this one..." His
query trailed off into a whisper, like the last tail of smoke
draining from an extinguished candle. I held no ties with this
country, just as I held none with my family. "I value secrets
more than patriotism." I could almost feel the cruel smile that
peeled back the lips across gnarled teeth right behind my neck
and a startling reply; "Good choice."
What started as a terribly shocking pain drained into
[REDACTED]. I lost conciousness and felt something leave me.
I'm not sure to this day whether it was my life or my soul,
though I'm willing to bet the latter. Something warm dripped
past my lips and I knew only one thing; thirst. I rose again
quickly, dazed and dry as a desert. I vaguely remember the
smile again as some poor guy from the street was thrown into the
room, gazing at the two of us, though mostly _____, in terror.
I remember flinging myself at the man and sinking my teeth deep
into his neck, nearly breaking it, and drinking deeply. Before
I knew it, the man was limp in my arms, dead, and I felt more
alive than ever.
Weeks of nights passed as _____ taught me what it meant to be a
Nosferatu. He informed me about all the changes I was going
through, all the things I would need to learn to survive in this
society. He didn't introduce me to the city's Prince until I
could feed and defend myself. By then my hair had begun to
thin, so I cut it short. My face began to contort, my skin
became more like leather, my ears and nose growing and becoming
gnarled. I didn't mind this change, though. I loved finally
being able to reflect the ugly I knew myself for.
Years passed and I learned knew ways to gather information. I
was a creature in my element, a spider in the dark. Things had
been escalating in Vietnam in a way that caught the attention of
several West Coast clans. Rumors spread that there were forces
at work that weren't entirely natural. Some whispered of
Gehenna, though they were quickly snuffed out. I was brought
before the Prince and my sire and told of my mission. I would
travel with one of the many military carriers going to Vietnam
and investigate with other Nos from different cities. I had no
right to object; secrets are what I signed up for, so it was my
job to find them. Lucky for me, _____ had obtained a wooden box
for me to stay in steerage in and created a few ghouls out of
the ship crew to watch me and my comrades. The trip itself was
relatively easy since the box had enough of these new blood
packs to last the trip, though it became increasingly dull just
watching the plank of wood right in front of (and slightly
squished) one's nose.
I awakened one night to find the ship's speed had slowed; we
were near our destination. A ghoul came and opened my box,
cringing at my appearance as I sat up, cracked my spine slowly
and dusted myself off. My nails had grown grey, as had my
palour. Even now, I was still degenerating from human to
monster, though at a slower rate than at the beginning. I snuck
off the ship and swam, smirking to myself as investigating
sharks and fish would immediately turn away from me, recognizing
my supremacy as ultimate predator. That's where I was wrong.
The other Kindred and I made various camps within the Vietnam
jungles. Some didn't even survive their first night, either
underestimating the destructive power of the sun or
overestimating the protection of their shelters. A few days
passed uneventfully before kindred began disappearing. I wasn't
sure whether to see this as cowards attempting to return to
American soil or something more sinister, though I didn't need
to question for long. Nosferatu or not, I was still only a
neonate. The ones who captured me were deadly efficient and
wanted me for questioning. They would have killed me in my
sleep otherwise.
The sack over my head was torn off, exposing me to a strong
light and blinding me. I was securely tied against a wall, my
arms and legs firmly seperated by thick steel cuffs. For some
reason I felt pathetically weak; I could only guess how long
they kept me unconcious while they siphoned off my blood. I
heard a voice with a thick Vietnamese accent. "How good of you
to join us, demon." I struggled to see beyond the light to get
a look at the owner of the voice, but I couldn't. "What do you
want?" A wry chuckle came echoed from the curtain of my
blindness and the light was turned off. "I suppose such
theatrics should be left to bad American detective movies, hm?"
My vision began to focus on a white figure with heavy make-up
that reminded me of one of those kabuki actors I'd seen pictures
of. "You are the spy among spies, a demon that specializes in
information. You have been sent here to investigate this land,
hm?" The voice was starting to irritate me, as was the
[REDACTED]. "Congratulations; you caught a Nostferatu that
doesn't have any information yet." I spat at her feebly which
only made her grin down at me, patronizing me. "Such a cute
little demon, hm? I wonder what she's hiding... " She said
something in another language and another figure came out of the
dark pushing a cart with various tools. "Both mentally and
physically..."
Hours passed as I was tested with various appliances; knives,
poisons, stakes, guns. I was barely kept from final death by an
occasional feeding of blood and a short period of healing. This
time of rest made the torture even worse, even with the
knowledge that I had nothing to offer. Hours turned to days,
weeks, then I lost track of time. I was left alone for long
periods of time without blood then forced to gorge myself as my
insides were pulled out and left to hang, slowly retracting into
my body and healing messily. I don't know how much time passed
as that damned woman [REDACTED] smiled and watched me cry in
agony. She got a kick from it, she loved humiliating me and
de-humanizing me. And every time I saw here, she [REDACTED].
How I wanted to burn her using it as tinder. How I wanted to
make her die of terror as I rose to exact revenge. With each
day of torture came another year's worth of hatred until I felt
like the demon she saw me as.
The day came when she saw no use for me anymore. __________
came in alone and gave me a packet of blood before tapping my
restraints experimentally and heading back towards the exit.
She stopped at the threshold of the doorway, turning and making
a flicking motion at the oil lamp that hung from the low
ceiling, sending it crashing to the floor and igniting it. I
let out a primal scream as the flames quickly began to consume
the room, __________ leaving with a final, condescending smile
and locking the door behind her. I felt the flames lick at my
feet, stinging them horribly. My vision grew red and a new
strength filled my body. I thrashed harder and harder as my
body began to burn and, at last, I was able to break free. I
fled from that place and dove into the marshes, steam rising
from where I was and extinguishing my scarred skin. I was able
to stumble upon an American camp. I lured one of the soldiers
out and forced him into becoming my ghoul and my ticket out. He
wrapped me in guaze like a mummy and stashed me in a cramped
box, feeding me his blood until we finally returned to the U.S.
I quietly killed him and disposed his body, wrapped myself in
military-grade bandages and a loose uniform, and returned to my
sire.
Even for Kindred as old as they, they were disgusted by my
state of injury. They had never seen one be burned so
thoroughly and live. My skin was now very sensitive and raw,
smooth in a disgusting sort of way, with my hair completely
burned away along with my ears and nose. I was a true horror
now.
My wounds were properly dressed and _____ saw this as a new
advantage; with the help of some prominent ventrue, not only was
my court marshal removed, I was given a purple heart by the
military for service above and beyond the call of duty. I now
receive (very garnished) social security checks, get a free
lifetime supply of medical guaze, and a little bracelet that
says I'm a war vet with 3rd degree burns all over my body. Not
only can I now traverse the world of the night freely, but I
often get discounts for whatever I want to buy.
It's all just pretty things though. I'm disfigured far more
than the standard Nos. Physically, I look like one of those
walking meat-things from that Silent Hill series.
Psychologically... Well, I'm no special case in that
department. I've become a beast. I run multiple illegal
trafficking rings from prostitution to drugs to animal fighting.
I use humans less and less like actual people I used to live
among and more as a means to an end. Even other kindred are to
be treated as tools. But you know, it's better to act like a
beast than to be one. "The beast I am lest a beast I become."
P.S.
You didn't really think I'd let you see the juicy bits, did
you? Come on, it's only the first date and I'm not that kind of
girl.
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