[hider=P.L.] [center][sub][sup][h2][b][i]𝓟𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝓛𝒂𝒑𝒊𝒏[/i][/b][/h2][/sup][/sub][/center] [center][img]http://68.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m032lpUnwU1qaepqzo1_400.png[/img][/center] [center][h1][b]☨[/b][/h1][/center] [center][sup][sup][h3]Kindred [color=black][b]│[/b][/color] Malkavian [color=black][b]│[/b][/color] 12[sup]th[/sup] Generation [color=black][b]│[/b][/color] Neonate[/h3][/sup][/sup] [sup][sup][h3]Auspex [color=black][b]│[/b][/color] Obfuscate [color=black][b]│[/b][/color] Dementation [color=black][b]│[/b][/color] Bipolar & Anal Retentive[/h3][/sup][/sup][/center] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/5eXPXBu.png[/img][/center] [sub][sub][sub][h2]𝓟[b][i]ersonality[/i][/b][/h2][/sub][/sub][/sub] [indent]Although most Malkavians tend to be loners willingly, Peter seemed to stray from that path as someone who was just a loner simply because he had no idea how to make friends under the state of which he was. Through the years, the failed attempts mounted some more insanity as he forces himself through the hopelessness and becomes even more awkward to be around. He has managed to procure three retainers over the course of things. On occasion he requests at least one to accompany him while he rests during the day as some sort of comfort object, which he generally cherishes quite obsessively. And, like all Malkavians he is a jokester. It could be his jokes that actually make him the most off-putting (one does not joke about eating vampires, and Peter becomes excruciatingly frustrated trying to contain such manic jesting), but from Peter’s point of view, his jokes are really just there to help the outside world understand the truth.[/indent] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/5eXPXBu.png[/img][/center] [sub][sub][sub][h2]𝓑[b][i]iography[/i][/b][/h2][/sub][/sub][/sub] [indent]Peter Lapin was only a small child when his family immigrated from the over turned Imperial Russian regime. Bloodshed and starvation had slaughtered the country in waves of anarchy and chaos. However, Peter has no concrete recollection of this hectic event as he was shuffled by his father, a high standing military General Major in the Russian Calvary, and his mother, a Petersburg Society Princess, by boat from Russia to America. As “White Russians,” his family was welcomed by the United States government. However, the older and significantly less wealthy generation of Russian immigrants were not at all as welcoming towards the influx of displaced Russian aristocracy planting new roots into the American soil. There was a defeatist mindset that set the tone in the Lapin household as his father took up low-wage manual labor and toiled amongst Russians that had nothing but disdain for his class’s attitude when under the Imperial Russian regime. It was years into the settling of the Lapin family into the vineyard fields of California when Peter’s parents started noticing Peter was behaving in an abnormal manner. It seemed like something that had happened over night, or perhaps, it had been gradual and had somehow gone unnoticed until just yesterday. He as in his later adolescent years, which [i]did[/i] warrant some kind of excuse—a cutting of apron strings, so to speak, but both felt something deeper was causing the sudden shift in behavior. They also had no particular way of confronting the situation as the guilt of their distinguishable reputation had caused much rejection placed on the family, and the need for Peter to uphold his behavior was rather unbending in a chilling way. Nonetheless, his parents ignorantly decided on working towards begging for their son’s forgiveness, hoping that an open heart would bring back the young man they thought they had raised. It was one thing to begin holding the burden of the death of their very own Divinely Crowned Emperor, but to see the distaste in their son as their respect continued to be stripped away from them was another thing. Of course, they didn’t have an abundance of time (due to the growth in the family and long hours worked) to make any huge or lasting alterations to how Peter was reared, and so, the behavior preceded until one day, they never heard from him, again. Behind the veil of what was tempting Peter to act out started off as a small bribe of rebelliousness that slowly formed into the meeting of 11th Generation Malkavian, Major Russell Bell. Perhaps it was the odd intelligence and stereotypical light-hearted dark humor weaved into the Russian culture of his family that made the Malkavian take notice of their sturdy, young boy, peddling his feet through the dark farm roads one night—naively looking for non permitted adventure or something otherwise known as trouble. He didn’t find any such thing before making his disappointedly relieved way back home, but the trouble definitely found him. Russell spent several years off-handedly studying the boy before making any decision to make himself known to the mortal, and when he did become known, he simply made the boy his ghoul. He was roughly the age of sixteen or seventeen when it happened. Peter can’t really remember how old he was when the first drop of vitae touched his tongue. He also does not remember the taste as he’s more concerned with the taste of mortal vitae, particularly of the human variety. However, he does remember something about a Sabbat attack that left him injured to such an extent, Russell decided to Embrace him, become his sire. It was definitely one thing to be drinking a monthly drop or two of Malkavian vitae every month, but it was a whole different animal (if that is what one would call it) to become one let alone live as one for eternity. Peter made it through the Embrace. “Crazy Jane” maybe helped him, or maybe it was Russell’s nursing him for a while before the Embrace, but whatever it was—nothing was the same. There was no trying to look through the world from a different angle to make things seem normal or close to normal or even remotely normal. Normal wasn’t even a concept he could grasp. There had been maybe a smidgen of hope that he’d get used to this state, but he quickly forgot what he was even hoping for as time went on. Everything just was, and there wasn’t much he could do about it. The beginning of being a Malkavian was like being in a strange cage of deranged voices that were sometimes quiet, sometimes whispers, sometimes hums, sometimes coherent words and sometimes just static They seemed to come and go and effected his mood and changed the way the wind blew. As disturbing as everything as the incoherent blob of reality smothered in front of him was, he managed to hold onto some “humanity” through this random reoccurring and comforting thought of how he could now see that everything was connected in a way no one had expected and therefore, he was granted the opportunity to be living a rare truth that not very many could see or respect. The Embrace also had left him further mentally crippled with what was then known as Melancholia, but in modern day, it is commonly known as Bipolar Disorder. He may have lost his humanity and succumb to the beast had Russell been an irresponsible Sire as many Malkavian are, but Russell managed to teach Peter for ten years before releasing him to the Prince as a member of the Camarilla. During those ten years, amongst other things, Russell helped Peter fight the beast, especially during the depressive episodes that halted his feeding until the Beast began to notice. He also helped Peter learn to cap the Beast during the highs as emotions and passions would easily excite him and rules stopped abiding to that pridefulness networking through his brain. Another derangement that had befallen him had occurred through the realization that he was now trapped outside of the reality he once knew. The odd humanly memories of how Goddamn awful he had been to his parents and siblings and friends, and the part where he wouldn’t be able to see them, again. His mind circled around this prospect for months until something finally snapped. It snapped during some ambush of hunters trailing on Russell on him when the stress and fear and hostility of the situation just triggered a sudden regression in his behavior. His mind caved for some childish state of thinking, frozen by fear as his hands cupped his ears and body hunched into an eye shut fit of toddler-esque mental shut down. This wasn’t a permanent regression, but the major part of the disorder that would flair up under stressful situations. On its average utility, Peter found himself retentively anal about being clean, only to find himself in some complete mess (example: the obsessive need for having fingernails that do not have dirt underneath them are cleaned until he was bleeding and there was no hope for making them actually clean). Peter generally tries to stay out of the drama of the Masquerade, which isn't always easy as a Malkavian. However, as push comes to shove, maybe Russell did do Peter some good because with all the chaos running amuck, the strangest sensation for duty has Peter's attention. The attention is, of course, an incoherent mess of wonderment and terror, but it is there. And, Peter has no will power to fight against nor ignore it.[/indent] [hider=NPCs] [hider=Sire][color=black]➺[/color][b][i]Major Bell, Russell[/i][/b] was a soldier in the Continental Army and consequently Embraced on the battlefield after falling to enemy in the Battle of Monmouth during the American Revolution. As vampires (especially in this Malkavian’s case) sometimes do, they migrate to different locations for one reason or another. However, prior to Russell’s journey from the East Coast to the West Coast, Russell had the unofficial title as the clan’s whip. He also had the honor of getting revenge over the murderer of his Primogen shortly after he was elected into the position as Primogen. It was for this act, the Prince granted him Right of Creation.[/hider] [hider=Allies][color=black]➺[/color][b][i]Big Joe[/i][/b] is a mortal drug dealer who has bribed a policeman or two or three or more and also has access to some other nifty gigs, like that one time he helped Peter get rid of a dead person without the Prince knowing.[/hider] [hider=Domain • Herd • Retainers] [color=black]➺[/color][b][i]Deliroe, Victor[/i][/b] - '41' year old technician [color=black]➺[/color][b][i]Deliroe, Melanie[/i][/b] - '39' year old stay-at-home wife and mother [color=black]➺[/color][b][i]Deliroe, Annie[/i][/b] - '8' year old elementary school student and daughter. [b][i]Domain[/i][/b] - Deliroe House[/hider][/hider][/hider] [hider=E.P.][center][sub][sub][sub][img]https://i.imgur.com/fempwEL.png?5[/img][/sub][/sub][/sub][color=black][sub][sup][h2][b]𝓔[i]sther[/i][/b] 𝓟[b][i]uniceus[/i][/b][/h2][/sup][/sub] [sub][sub][sub][img]https://i.imgur.com/s07atjx.jpg?2[/img][/sub][/sub][/sub][h1][b]☨[/b][/h1][/color][sup][sup][img]https://i.imgur.com/fempwEL.png?5[/img][/sup][/sup] [sup][sup][h3]Kindred [color=black][b]│[/b][/color] Ventrue [color=black][b]│[/b][/color] 8[sup]th[/sup] Generation [color=black][b]│[/b][/color] 800+[/h3][/sup][/sup] [sup][sup][h3]Dominate [color=black][b]│[/b][/color] Fortitude [color=black][b]│[/b][/color] Presence[/h3][/sup][/sup] [img]https://i.imgur.com/5eXPXBu.png[/img][/center] [sub][sub][sub][h2]𝓟[b][i]ersonality[/i][/b][/h2][/sub][/sub][/sub] [indent]Cradled with the pompous peasantry of the Dream and clothed with the woven tapestry's of the truth's beautiful antiquities, Esther aligns her instrumental tune to the otherworldly harmonies with a gracefully pensive and distant ease of derision. Esther is steadfast in her beliefs and passive amongst conversations that try to sway her objective thoughts from her own knowledge of seeking. She prefers filling herself with the golden riches of history, and the past becomes ever more favorable in Esther's eyes as the secular lenses of modern society continuously kaleidoscopes into a crumbling entropy of foul smells and post-modern chaos. She has little use for the workings of society and has given-up caring for coherence since the Romantic period, which was not as highly as elaborate or decadent as the lovely Baroque period. The intelligence of the World had dimmed its path in the likeness of the Enlightenment, and here she was, too pristine in her reflection to make small gossip about the dying world that the Camarilla was trying to preserve. However, it was true, this life was precious, each with its very own internal universe. Unfortunately, Esther can barely read the map of her own universal existence, lost to the soulless winds of the Embrace. The Kindred's own journey has trained Esther to keep her nose nobly where it belongs, proven to be a much more efficient time spent of immortality, and thus, her dismissive, uninterested state could also be described as carelessly snobby, which is not too terribly far from the truth. In fact, it has been very well proven, she will not hesitate to bite when duty calls, as is tradition of her nature. For such reasons, she is seen with respect as an eloquently trusted keeper of secrets in certain parts of the Camarilla. However, playing puppeteer has never fancied this Ventrue. She prefers to be the one who purchased tickets to the show, sitting quietly in the shadows of the audience with her evening purse and date — judging the act.[/indent] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/5eXPXBu.png[/img][/center] [sub][sub][sub][h2]𝓑[b][i]iography[/i][/b][/h2][/sub][/sub][/sub] [indent]During the wake of the Long Night, the Sun was gleaming behind the triumphal arch of New Rome, offering a warm entrance of refuge from the setting Sun of the West as the Dream prospered in the haven of the smokey incense and reflective grandiose splendor like a golden halo in the midst of the Dark Ages. It was the end of the 11th Century when the illuminating manuscriptured Monastery of Studius was sliding from the centre of Byzantine religious poetry. However, despite the disposition, during this ending era of glorious hymnography, Esther Poniceus was born to a noble family, graced with prosperous wealth and an abundance of lavish privileges. Her parents raised her with great strictness through private tutors for education and the arts, grooming her in hopes of a more prominent future than the one they inherited from their ancestors. The same treatment was granted to her other siblings, dressed in the same vestments of honor and truth. Above all, the Poniceus family was taught the importance of upholding the beautiful, and in such a time, it was hard to miss the ancient beauty that embellished their furnishings and lifestyle. The crude of their living was received as a merciful gift of Confession and the ever-flowing miracle of the Eucharist. There were threads of hope, sewn into silk garments that held true to Esther's heart that one day she might be chosen to be Empress if her prayerful life could be magnified. However, as time seemed to pass, fleetingly in perspective amongst aristocrats, there seemed to be no significant worth in holding her material riches so close to her heart. The fine scents and soft weaves were illusions of what was yet to come, as taught by the scholars of the Roman Empire. The only warmth she could find was from the burning flames that flickered on the Holy Table and the skip in her heartbeat when the taper-bearer Rodericus Terzi illumned the Divine Litrugy on the path walked by the hypodeacon. No riches in the world could express the burn of her rosy emotions flushed inside the embroidery of her head covering when she watched him light the candles. Esther's prayers were not unnoticed by Rodericus. Perhaps it was her patterned attire, richly dyed and fitted for regalia, binding her to the costumes of the mosaic saints depicted on the walls of the Church. While mutual matrimonial love existed during he Dream, Esther's privileged lifestyle condoned any sort of romance between the two neighboring parties involved. For the Poniceus' family, Rodercius was not as wealthy of afamily and sharing Holy Matrimony with him was the antithesis of how Esther was raised. For the Terzi family, a covenant had been made that Rodercius would denounce the world and wear the monastic vows of a new name while abiding his remaining time inside the teachings of the Monastery of Studius. The two disciples were adamant not to part from each other but also determined not to be disobedient to the will of their parents, most often associated with that of the Divine Will. Both conjured a plan for Esther to cross-dress and join the Monastery. And that is what they did. At the age of sixteen, Esther disappeared from her home to took up living as a monk, side-by-side former Robericus for three years. In 1204, the Crusaders destroyed the Monastery. She watched as the murals and pillars holding the city together were pillaged, alongside many of her brothers and elders that dwelled in the monastic family. The Esther was not spared during the Lasombra attack. She tried to find Rodericus before making her way to the Cathedral for protection. However, she failed broken-heartedly in both attempts and was capture, and for the first time during her monastic struggle, it was discovered that there was a female living abreast the monks, untouched and unsoiled. She was miraculously saved by an Elder Monk who having gone to protect the Library of Saint Jean Studius, Elder Thaddeus, a Ventrue, bestowed some sort of mercy upon her as a young virgin, attempting to fend off the hungry Crusaders who had maimed and heavily wounded the nun before attempting to deflower her. Elder Thaddeus was willing to die protecting the Library, but it must have been Esther's astonishing rendition of expose that turned his attention to save the rarity from perishing. The obedient Kindred, having willed her mortal life as a nun for a romantic relationship that would never blossom in the likeness of Marriage was righteous in purity and blood. There was no doubt in his mind that she would make a worthy Ventrue, full of dignitas and noble respect for the etiquette of the Clan: Elder Thaddeus instilled in her the knowledge that she had saved him the night of her Embrace; yet he had also died that night in Face for having withdrawn his aid from the Library of Saint Jean Studius. She was not to disrespect him in any way, shape, or form. He was her Sire even after Final Death. Thus, her training was founded on the obedient hierarchy of which granted her First Death. He taught her the Truth and opened her eyes to the powers of the Undead. Elder Thaddeus thickened her knowledge and skin with trials and tribulations, all to be expected of him as a Ventrue Sire. He unveiled the lies she had been living as a human and stripped her cassock for more worldly beauties that resounded trinkets of delicate lace and frou-frou intricacies of the historical ordination that was paving the carpets in the World of Darkness. However, underneath her feminine assuage, a masculine boldness was pressed under her thumb: [i]For the love of Rodericus, under the dearest Obedience of Elder Thaddeus, she would honor the Dark Father, through Enoch the Wise.[/i] After her acceptance as a Ventrue, Esther made her way to the Empire of Nicea to live under Anna Comnena and made herself useful with the calligraphic education from the Monastery of Studius, by corresponding and helping transcribe the traditional manuscripts sought forth by John III. This skill later resurrected itself for her after the shattering death of the Marble Emperor John Paleologus Constantine in 1453 and the awakening from the Dream, when Esther continued pursuing the dead Cainite Dream, theorized as a Third Rome gloriously under Moscow’s gold, shining forth like the halos of New Rome during the Darkness Ages and helped the Kindred against the Lupine. The Ventrue traced her works with the literary genre of hagiography in pleasure to the Toreador (as her secret honor to Mi-ka-il's desertion of Western Rome) and preserved the art through the Enlightenment and sacredly scribing her political career eventually with the Russian's new found love of ballet and then as the Russian-American Company recorder who covered the details of the Camarilla's workings in North America on Kodiak Island (infamously known for Abbot Symeon Ivanovich Yanovsky's misinterpretation of the hagiography of Saint Herman of Alaska spread by of Valaam Monastery). A year after the War of 1812 fueled between The United States of America and the British Empire and the end of the Russo-Persian War, she was captured by the Society of Leopold, under the guise of Inquisition of the Jesuit Order, imposing themselves on the heretics of the Russian Orthodox Church — as Esther reported incorrectly. There were many others taken captive and imprisoned Mission Dolores, California and eventually martyred. Esther escaped with several others by an acquaintance of her sire. The Kindred's alternate identity was "Ivan Kiglay." The Ventrue is still unsure of what his real name is, but there was something unquestionably stern about the Malkavian's presence that made inquiring further on his truth would be disrespectful and thus a strike against Elder Thaddeus. Ivan and Esther took refuse in Fort Ross for some years. Ivan claimed that there would be a Rebellion that would oust the Kindred Princes in Russia; the golden opportunity would be snuffed by an iron shadow. His presence was needed in the conducting of political affairs in Fort Ross as the Russian presence became more influential. When Don Sebastian became Prince in 1870 of San Pedro, Los Angeles, Esther parted ways with Ivan, finding more dignity in the artistic developments conspiring south of For Ross. It was in Los Angeles that Esther resided under the Camarilla with anthological literacy and helped flourish the City of Angel's poetry scene through her Ancient hymnography skills. She has weaved herself through the music culture, keeping strictly to the fundamental classics that have helped pave the foundation for several celebrities in the pop light. Esther also has a strong hold in connecting the past to the present and operates several museums in Los Angeles. Despite the Civil Wars and political upheavals, Esther has kept to the shadows as opposed to exercising her Ventrue lust for power. There is a time and a place for everything, and as an Kindred, Esther has found that doing everything at once takes way too much time for such a short immortality. [/indent] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/5eXPXBu.png[/img][/center] [hider=NPCs][indent] [color=black]➺[/color] [b][i]Grigoriev, Alexandra[/i][/b] - Esther's Retainer, Ghoul, and daylight operator of her [url=http://www.yurigrigoriev.com/index.html][color=black][b]Domain[/b][/color][/url]. She is carrying on Yuri Grigoriev School of Ballet (see below) legacy. [color=black]➺[/color] [b][i]Grigoriev, Yuri[/i][/b] - Esther's Childe. Esther embraced him several years ago. His whereabouts are currently off the scene of the Yuri Grigoriev School of Ballet. He is in communication with the Federation of Russia through the Russian Orthodox Church, holding ties with [url=https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Patriarch_Kirill_of_Moscow][color=black][b]Patriarch Kirill[/b][/color][/url]. [color=black]➺[/color][b][i]Hanks, Tom[/i][/b] - Esther's [url=https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tom_Hanks][color=black][b]Ally[/b][/color][/url]. He is a famous American actor and filmmaker and is known for his comedic and dramatic roles. He attends the same church that [url=https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chester_Bennington][color=black][b]Chester Charles Bennington[/b][/color][/url] and [url=https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chris_Cornell][color=black][b]Chris Cornell[/b][/color][/url] attended. [color=black]➺[/color] [b][i]Kiglay, Ivan[/i][/b] - Kindred friend to Major Russell Bell, the Malkavian Clan Whip and also, Sire of Peter Lapin (see below). [color=black]➺[/color] [b][i]Lapin, Peter[/i][/b] - A [color=black][b]Malkavian[/b][/color] she has been bound with duty to protect in respect to "Ivan Kiglay." [color=black]➺[/color] [b][i]Miracle Mile[/i][/b] - After the opening of Disneyland, Esther acquired the [url=https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Miracle_Mile,_Los_Angeles][color=black][b]Neighborhood[/b][/color][/url]. Miracle Mile offers Esther a hand in shadowing her Ventrue powers as part of her domain. [color=black]➺[/color] [b][i]Rosu, Skander[/i][/b] - A [color=black][b]Toreador[/b][/color] with a liking for business with Esther. [color=black]➺[/color][b][i]Yuri Grigoriev School of Ballet[/i][/b] - The Domain operated by her Retainer and Ghouls who teach. (see above).[/indent][/hider][/hider] [hider=O.A.B.][center][sub][sub][sub][/sub][/sub][/sub][color=black][sub][sup][h2][b]𝓞[i]ren[/i][/b] [b]𝓐[/b][b][i]ndre[/i][/b] [b]𝓑[/b][b][i]erry[/i][/b][/h2][/sup][/sub] [sub][sub][sub][img]https://i.pinimg.com/564x/ba/a9/e5/baa9e593cef6c1cdf3b859a7354f5801.jpg[/img][/sub][/sub][/sub][h1][b]☨[/b][/h1][/color][sup][sup][/sup][/sup] [sup][sup][h3]Kindred [color=black][b]│[/b][/color] Brujah [color=black][b]│[/b][/color] 8[sup]th[/sup] Generation [color=black][b]│[/b][/color] 400+[/h3][/sup][/sup] [sup][sup][h3]Celerity [color=black][b]│[/b][/color] Potency [color=black][b]│[/b][/color] Presence[/h3][/sup][/sup] [img]https://i.imgur.com/5eXPXBu.png[/img][/center] [sub][sub][sub][h2]𝓟[b][i]ersonality[/i][/b][/h2][/sub][/sub][/sub] [indent]As a definitive being, his life revolves around one word. That word is [i]wit.[/i] It comes to the Kindred naturally, and quite frankly, he enjoys every moment of it. Unlike many of his species, turning to their elaborate backstories of power and gain, the dark skinned villain prefers to keep it simple for the stupid folk out there. Yes, he could brag about all his conquests and admirers and the dark glories won within the Masquerade. However, he has always patiently endured the long-suffering struggle of giving a positive spin to the world of darkness and stylized his being not around murder and madness but the simple word, [i]wit.[/i] It is perhaps for this reason, his maybe great-grandson became one of Russia's most famous authors -- Alexander Pushkin.[/indent] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/5eXPXBu.png[/img][/center] [sub][sub][sub][h2]𝓑[b][i]iography[/i][/b][/h2][/sub][/sub][/sub] [indent]When the proliferation of arts and sciences attempted to brightened and adorn the already magnificently enlightened Russian Empire, Oren "Andre" Berry found his way from Africa to the land of the Golden Onion Domes and raised under the roof of the Emperor's household as his Godson. At the time, his name was known as Abram Petrovich Gannibal. However, he had not been a kidnapped orphan from Africa by any means. He had been a newly turned Kindred from the Horn of Africa by the hands of a Brujah named Josiah Abede, and Russia was his first demand under his sire. Andre's prosperous admiration under the nobility helped spearhead the Brujah Council as the centuries progressed. When the Revolution of 1917 failed to allow the Brujah the proper lead, Andre found himself backhanding many other Brujah during the quarrel, including his Coterie Pyotr Andreyevich Tolstoy. The Iron Curtain unveiling the stage for the Communist regime over Russia offered a new proposal for the Brujah's relations within the Soviet Union and the Masquerade, to leave the Giant Bear and head to the coast of California, where he helped spark the Speak Easies of the Roaring 20's during the Prohibition. The shift proved to be unusual for him, coming from a more pompous background to a suddenly relaxed but rigid Western style of living. The booze proved itself lucrative in expanding his palate of underground workings with the Union as a continued Anarch. During World War II, he helped bring Kindred from the Old World to the New World. Domains were strained because of this process, and he fought in the Second Anarch Revolt in 1944 after Jeremy MacNeil arrived in California. Andre refuses to admit anything in regards to the death of Don Sebastian and might mention having shaken the hand of Jeremy MacNeil once or twice. In reality, he helped whip the Free State and acted as one of the secure fronts. Unfortunately, that front was invaded by none other than Salvador Garcia. He fled with the rest of the Anarch Baron's entourage, and has recently just come back into town. He has raised a Kindred ears, but it's not like he really knows what happened to the infamous Brujah. He only shook his hand once or twice, and face it, looking at his track record, it's really just his wit that anyone needs to mention and perhaps, his love interest in someone a little closer to the Kid than he will ever be -- Eva. [/indent] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/5eXPXBu.png[/img][/center] [hider=NPCs][indent] [color=black]➺[/color] [b][i]Popov, Kisa[/i][/b] - Originally a young girl in the USSR who was raped by her father and put into a psyche ward after being forced to get an abortion. After the abortion, she carried around a doll, convinced it is her daughter. She was embraced by a Doctor in the psyche ward and later abandoned to a Tzimisce who later escaped to the United States to work on experiments involving and not limited to MK-Ultra and Project Artichokee. They came to Houston for business with the [url=https://hcpc.uth.edu/][color=black][b]University of Texas Psychiatric System[/b][/color][/url] and the [url=https://spacecenter.org/][color=black][b]Houston Space Center[/b][/color][/url], where Kisa became the Malkavian Whip, after they took her doll and use it was hostage to control the Kindred. She also met Andre during her time in Houston, and he witnessed her rising through the ranks of the Camarilla. She has little to do with the Anarch kindred, but finds that she inattentively gets pulled into his own world of darkness from time-to-time due to her Russian lineage. He loves pulling on her leash and mocks her every time for cooperating as a messenger for him. [color=black]➺[/color] [b][i]Puniceus, Esther[/i][/b] - Esther helped rewrite Andre's background history as Abram Petrovich Gannibal. [color=black]➺[/color] [b][i]Tolstoy, Pyotr Andreyevich[/i][/b] - Andre's Coterie and writing comrade. Both helped with the Brujah Council and are still keeping up to-date as long time penpals, slipping through every loophole of the Anarch and Camarilla. [color=black]➺[/color] [b][i]Lapin, Peter[/i][/b] - A Malkavian he has started putting under his wing after making contact with Esther Puniceus upon returning to Los Angeles.[/indent][/hider][/hider]