I guess i'll post the gist of my backstory...
Once upon a time (1900, give or take a few years), there was a plucky youth (think Toby McGuire 30 years ago, when he was still young), living on the streets. One night, a bunch of thugs mug him in an ally, kick the crap out of him, and steal what little he has. So, he mouths off, insults the thugs, and shows moxie despite his dire situation.
The leader of the thug, impressed by the kid (he has charisma 4 you know), decides after draining him, that he was a pretty good kid. Maybe it was the rush of his blood, maybe it was his charisma, or maybe it was the wino they drained a few blocks back, but the thug leader decided to embrace the kid right there, damn the prince's permission.
So, after a year of kissing the prince's ass, the thug leader got to show off his new childe, and protege in pointless violence, to the city. But the shiny had already worn off. Turns out he was just pot metal underneath. After he was safe and snug in his new unlife, our plucky youth took to reading, and other unbecoming passtimes. And after being introduced to the rest of the city, he started making friends outside his brothers, and even stopped learning the disciplines of his blood in favor of those of outsiders. When our young protagonist joined the Ordo Dracul one fateful evening, the thug leader, and primogen of the Brujah, had finally had enough. The young man was a Disgrace to the Blood, and he might as well not be Brujah in the city.
Fast forward a hundred years and change, and we find our not so young, and not so plucky, protagonist living much the same life he started. He rents a small appartment on the north side of the city. He's gone to college a half dozen times but never finished anything. He has friends all over the city, mortal and kindred alike, but no one he calls family. He's picked up disciplines from all the clans, but hasn't mastered a single one, not even those of his blood. Our protagonist lives his unlife aimlessly, moving pointlessly toward eternity, disowned by his blood, viewed as fun but Harmless by the rest of the kindred, and with only his pets to keep him company in the long lonely moments before dawn.
Once upon a time (1900, give or take a few years), there was a plucky youth (think Toby McGuire 30 years ago, when he was still young), living on the streets. One night, a bunch of thugs mug him in an ally, kick the crap out of him, and steal what little he has. So, he mouths off, insults the thugs, and shows moxie despite his dire situation.
The leader of the thug, impressed by the kid (he has charisma 4 you know), decides after draining him, that he was a pretty good kid. Maybe it was the rush of his blood, maybe it was his charisma, or maybe it was the wino they drained a few blocks back, but the thug leader decided to embrace the kid right there, damn the prince's permission.
So, after a year of kissing the prince's ass, the thug leader got to show off his new childe, and protege in pointless violence, to the city. But the shiny had already worn off. Turns out he was just pot metal underneath. After he was safe and snug in his new unlife, our plucky youth took to reading, and other unbecoming passtimes. And after being introduced to the rest of the city, he started making friends outside his brothers, and even stopped learning the disciplines of his blood in favor of those of outsiders. When our young protagonist joined the Ordo Dracul one fateful evening, the thug leader, and primogen of the Brujah, had finally had enough. The young man was a Disgrace to the Blood, and he might as well not be Brujah in the city.
Fast forward a hundred years and change, and we find our not so young, and not so plucky, protagonist living much the same life he started. He rents a small appartment on the north side of the city. He's gone to college a half dozen times but never finished anything. He has friends all over the city, mortal and kindred alike, but no one he calls family. He's picked up disciplines from all the clans, but hasn't mastered a single one, not even those of his blood. Our protagonist lives his unlife aimlessly, moving pointlessly toward eternity, disowned by his blood, viewed as fun but Harmless by the rest of the kindred, and with only his pets to keep him company in the long lonely moments before dawn.
Threading the Gerbil since 1982
normal merit rules Cheyne. Only exception is no mixing blaise, iron will, and unbondable.
as for the question of why not give people something. because i want you to make a character. Maybe you do max gen because it is the most "powerful" thing to do. Maybe you do not because it is not what you want for a character. Not giving gen away, sorry Jason.
as for the question of why not give people something. because i want you to make a character. Maybe you do max gen because it is the most "powerful" thing to do. Maybe you do not because it is not what you want for a character. Not giving gen away, sorry Jason.
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angelicyokai
- Lost Knight
- Posts: 457
- Joined: Thu Jan 31, 2008 7:34 pm
- Location: In her house at R'lyeh
Angie wants Lasombra, I have a backstory and I should have the character to you by the end of the weekend.
[CENTER]
Take the Magic: The Gathering 'What Color Are You?' Quiz.[/CENTER]
“Live a good life. If there are gods and they are just, then they will not care how devout you have been, but will welcome you based on the virtues you have lived by. If there are gods, but unjust, then you should not want to worship them. If there are no gods, then you will be gone, but will have lived a noble life that will live on in the memories of your loved ones.”
― Marcus Aurelius
Take the Magic: The Gathering 'What Color Are You?' Quiz.[/CENTER]“Live a good life. If there are gods and they are just, then they will not care how devout you have been, but will welcome you based on the virtues you have lived by. If there are gods, but unjust, then you should not want to worship them. If there are no gods, then you will be gone, but will have lived a noble life that will live on in the memories of your loved ones.”
― Marcus Aurelius
