Caelan Brennan (Now a NPC)

Caelan Brennan (Now a NPC)

Name: Caelan Brennan, "Cae" for friends
Concept: Abandoned Fledgling

Race: Vampire
Clan: Mekhet (Alucinor)
Covenant: Unbound

Virtue: Temperance. Caelan is good-intentioned and knows when enough should be enough. When she resists silly impulse and passive-aggressive spite, she knows she has done well. She equally thinks indulging in self-pity too long is detrimental.
Vice: Gluttony. On the flip side, when Caelan is starved, even hungry, she can get desperate, to the point that it is more important than any other responsibility. What more can a vampire do but feed her primal urges?

"I don't know where I'm going, but at least I'm here."

For general inspiration, see:

Age: 19, appears ~17/18 (2003)
Eye Color: Green
Hair: Brunette. Short a little past the chin, layered with bangs [photo idea is more styled than she would do on daily basis, let's be realistic]
Complexion: Sallow, though the freckles over her nose remain
Figure: A modest 5'4" and more content on her than the waifs in uggs and heels of her generation. Caelan looks much like a "girl next door" or "the nice girl," being that she isn't terribly striking or hideous either way. Yet there's a charm to her features, which could be an innocent sort of cute if the pale skin and red-rimmed eyes weren't off-putting. Her oval face and pert nose dotted with freckles are remnants of such a mortal concept as cuteness.

Clothing: Caelan dresses in many ways to hide herself, a habit carried over from life. Knits, sweaters, scarves, and the like, are prized over extreme trends, though jeans and long-line shirts (smocks? tunics? what are they now?) are also convenient.Unlike Daeva or even Ventrue, Caelan has little interest in fashion or flash, but she is not to the point of looking careless.

Accessories: She doesn't have much that doesn't come from her odd, rag-tag family. For the sake of convenience she may carry a small purse, though it likely won't contain much money. Caelan also has a pendant from her paternal grandmother of an earth symbol, a bizarre amalgamation of meanings from the world over, including the Solar Cross. It is a keepsake if ironic.

Caelan is dead.

Sixth form's first year was finally coming to a close, and the hardest bloody tests on the planet were being loaded onto the students for life direction and career paths. The last few weeks had Caelan's head in a vise as studying went through the eyes and her mother's disapproval went through the ears. Good grades weren't good enough, she needed top grades. She needed to be a doctor, a barrister.

There was some straw that broke the camel's back but Caelan couldn't remember what it was. She finally screamed back, she finally defended herself in more ways than she ever had before. She did everything she could for her Mum and for Cliff, working part time at a coffee shop and full time at school. Was it so much to ask to be appreciated for pulling the weight in this family?
Well, she never. She needed to respect her mother and think about her for a change. About how Caelan's father left poor old Mum and Caelan all alone (out of wedlock) and how hard Cliff worked to put food on the table as a lousy office manager.
On and on. Caelan didn't want to be a lawyer anyway. A family of taking, and taking, saying "That wasn't any good, you deserve nothing for it."

All this hotly stirred around in her brain as she stumbled outside, not knowing where she was going. There was a vague idea, though, that she was 17, now the age of consent and drinking, almost the age of majority. She could leave if she wanted.

Caelan never saw her maker, but she met his eyes. It was dark, and she thought, after all, she'd become a statistic for rape and murder.

Or was she, if she survived it? No, she wasn't alive. She was something else, stained by salty blood.

It was the last night she saw her mother or her stepfather. And her new father, gone like her first one. Something crawled in her bones, asking to be fed. Caelan managed to kill, maybe once. She scrounged and wallowed in confusion and shame...until he came. Not human, he noticed her. He brought her to safe haven where she met another, and how could that be bad? They could share what once was, maybe.

That is most of what she's known, but Caelan is dead.

Caelan grew up in the cheap suburbs of London with her mother and stepfather. Her own father left when she was very small, her parents unmarried. She was, naturally, a happy child, but suppressed by malcontent parents. Always in an effort to please, she became an over-achiever in whatever she could. The fact that she couldn't be the top of the top, however, stung everyone in the family. At 17, Caelan had finished secondary school and was in sixth form to study for her A-levels. After a stressful month and a heated (near physical) fight with her parents, Caelan left the house. As all the stories go, she was randomly and viciously attacked by a psychopath-- but not a mortal one. Currently it is unknown who he was, outside of his burning eyes and lanky figure, but he Embraced her, and gave her the Gift. Had he been watching her? Did he feel pity? If he did, it didn't last. He disappeared in a cruel rejection of Kindred tradition, leaving her defenseless and untrained. Luckily she took shelter from the sun and found how to kill a transient. After several days of shameful, crazed wandering, she was found by Rakesh. He was fearless of her deathless state, and her fangs, oddly. He helped her back to something akin to humanity, and she met his ally Ilkin-- a creature who enjoyed stalking the shadows with her. So now her family is a ragtag group of supernaturals, doing what they do. Caelan is curious of the new world and somewhat dependent on her friends, still a naive fledgling. She uses her powers as a benefit to Rakesh and his endeavors, if he wants them.

Caelan is a listener. One who listened to her mother's verbal abuse and her stepfather's and father's silence for years. Her consciousness is wracked with rejection. Always struggling with low self-esteem, she drives what could have been depression and anxiety into more productive areas, like academia. She perserveres, for whatever reason she can think of, to be conscious, to be there. Even to learn.

She prefers close friends to many friends, clearly an outcome of her shy and naive nature. To those she truly trusts, she is loyal. Of course, this doesn't mean she isn't opinionated, merely able to be talked down to until provoked.

She is curious. Curious enough to associate with supernaturals few Kindred would in their right minds. Indeed, Caelan is smart, if only "book smart," but has some common sense when it's needed. Humanity is a curiosity for her, profundity mixed with the ambivalence of her experiences being one. It is of her great concern to retain her sense of self as a human, yet she is prone to Frenzies, depending on the circumstances.

And in her new life she is far less timid on her toes. Quick to flee, hide, avoid, sure, but having felt death there's no reason to fear the kick from a pistol when you're the one behind the barrel. Survival without living, that's the key.

Cae survives, mentally, through a stringent moral code because she had nothing else to go by. She created it on her own, though there's a definite inspiration from human perceptions of right and wrong. She kills as rarely as possible, preferring Rakesh or the goblins' bloodwort plant. If and when she does kill, she must have a philosophical, ethical reasoning to do so. While never presuming to be a proper judge, she does her best to put only the mortals who "deserve" it out of their misery: murderers, psychopaths, addicts, suicides, vagrants. It is also a requirement to remember what she is and how she got there, though the trauma associated is akin to what rape victims suffer.

Despite her attempts to maintain a veneer of sanity through a moralistic "angel of mercy" persona when necessary, she is prone to bouts of existential depression (as all vampires). She often deprecates herself for such "emo" phases, though it doesn't help her self-confidence. Recently, a fear of bats has emerged from their mythological and psychological associations with the monstrous vampire.

Caelan understands less than most childer about her heritage, other than what her few supernatural allies may have told her. A sire? An abomination, something crazed from too little or too much knowledge. A clan? They deduced it, and God knows she runs like a bat of Hell when there's fire around. A bloodline? They don't know. How does she feed? Specifically. Where does she sleep? Nearby.

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