Shadows Over The South Wiki

*XP Log: http://www.shadowsoverthesouth.net/wiki/index.php?n=Site.CassandraWilliamsXPLog

!!Attributes

*'Dexterity Specialty:' Precise.

!!Abilities

*'Performance Specialty:' Acting. *'Undead Lore:' Tzimisce, Lasombra

!!Resources

!!Backgrounds

!!Disciplines/Rituals/Ritae

'Animalism - Rating 1.'

*….

'Auspex - Rating 2.'

*Heightened Sense. *Read Aura - Perc/Empathy diff 8

'Celerity - Rating 2.'

*All Dex pools are increased by +2. *Can spend for Extra Actions at a 1:1 ratio (Dot per BP).

'Obfuscate - Rating 1.'

*Cloak of Shadows. Hidden as long as still and silent, partially concealed.

'Presence - Rating 3.'

*Awe. Charisma + Performance (difficulty 7). 1/one person 2/2 people 3/6 people 4/20 people 5/Everyone

'Potence - Rating 2.'

*All Strength pools are increased by +2. *Can spend to make Potence increase automatic successes (Applied to damage roll)

!!Virtues

'Conscience:' 2.
'Self-Control:' 4.
'Courage:' 4.

'Humanity:' 5.

!!Merits and Flaws

'Merits:'

Acute Sense (1pt) -2 Dif to hearing
Catlike Balance (1pt) -2 Dif to balance-related rolls
Deceptive Aura (1pt) Living Aura
Magic Resistance (2pt) +2 Dif for Thaum/Magic against
Shifted Clan Curse (To Toreador) - 10/19 Reward

'Flaws:'

Multiple Personality Disorder (Derangement)
Probationary Sect Member (4pt) - Former Sabbat
Vulnerability to Silver (2pt)
Infamous Sire (1pt) - Toreador Antitribu
Ghoulish Sense of Humor (1pt)
New Arrival (1pt)
Dark Secret (1pt) - Alternate Identity Flaw (Sabbat Traitor)

!!Health

!!Vaulderie Ratings

9/30-
Lark 10
Tiffany 9
Jez 4

!!Description

'{+BACKSTORY+}'

       Cheryl was always a bit of trouble.  She partied too hard when it came to the roaring 20's and 30's.  When the economy fell out and things went to hell, she couldn't stand that the fun might be over so she found the crowd that gave it life.  Prohibition was just the thing for that.  Fast cars, fast money, and all the trouble you could handle.  Cheryl joined in the racket early, a cigarette girl and then table service for the type of men that wore pinstripes, had greasy haircuts, and were prone to violence.  The type that liked to think they ran things.
Unfortunately, or fortunately if you consider coming back from death, they were not the top of the food chain.  She didn't know it at the time, but it was part of a joke.  Her sire, Meredith Blood-Red Dixon, just created her to see her suffer and send her reeling into combat.  Typical for Sabbat really.  She didn't even know who her sire was for a good bit, tricked into thinking it was another (Jacks Mueller) her sire's kindred lover, clan mate, and pack mate.  She learned the true means to freedom and the ecstasy of pain.  Having her life torn down, everything ripped from her only to find the truth of her lineage under heel of her sire's lover.
The games changed with time and she grew an appreciation for them.  The blood spilled by the mobsters during prohibition, the nightly push for protection money, vice, and corruption was the perfect upbringing for Cheryl.  Cheryl no more at least.  Megan 'Blades' Jacks took her name, no longer some worthless meat sack.  She earned that name carving smiles into toys, bleeding their enemies, and lavishing in their pain as their worlds were crushed one at a time.  Art work.  It's what she learned it to be.  Then prohibition ended, a world replaced by poverty and despair.  The whole of it nearly toppling over as depression hit and even the toys got boring.  Sad that it happened all so quickly.  Of course War was just around the corner, and with war, opportunity.
It really wasn't but a handful of years.  The war came and went faster than she realized.  The blood, the men that poured through the streets and never came back.  She almost wanted to go see it for herself, but that was too dangerous for her to actually attempt.  Instead, the pack turned it's pursuits towards the mysticism and occult.  Blood rituals, the threat of magic.  She volunteered to be the guinea pig.  Something to pass the time, but more it was something to bring Meredith's attention back to her.  Jacks had gone missing, and her sire, love was turning listless with the trivials of wartime playthings.  So Megan offered herself up to suffer in a new way.  It solved things.  For a time.
Meredith's interest returned, a new and interesting way to make her suffer.  Sad Megan never got to pick up the rituals, the magics used on her.  She only got the joys of surviving, suffering for pleasures.  Things came out of it.  She got stronger in some regards, it too more to hurt her.  The same spells started to become weaker on her and the fun died out.  Of course, silver turned out to be the new thing.  It wasn't understood, some sort of side-effect really.  Nothing that really interested the higher ups and Megan's use was soon forgotten in the post war build up.  As was Meredith's interest.  The sire that didn't care to be.  When Megan couldn't produce further results or amusement, Jack's games missing, it turned wine to vinegar.  It was her fault somehow.  A stronger warrior wouldn't have failed.  She blamed Megan for his loss.  Maybe she was right.
Perhaps that's why she didn't really apply herself.  It was an easy lie.  Megan didn't teach her more, she learned the basics, survival, and what it was to have fun.  Even with her pack at her side she felt empty somehow.  The rituals, the new faces replacing those lost and those gained.  She became somehow disenchanted.  Numb to it.  
Of course that's when Jack Mueller walked back through the door all smiles and malice.  A decade or two later of course.  It was the 80's then.  Disco, ass-less chaps, and a new form of fun.  The city had grown and exploded.  Megan hardly remembered some of the nights.  Of course the games began anew.  This time though, Megan wasn't as fun to bear the brunt of it.  Jack and Meredith were the thing again, her pack mates just shrugged and life moved on.  Megan's family turned their back on her when she wasn't interested in reliving the old nights and being their toy.  Instead they found other things to entertain themselves with, Meredith had started to lean towards the zealous and roped Jack in.  Priests.  The pair of them.
Megan saw it coming before the others did.  She heard the rumors, the whispers that the others were too busy to live up to.  She slowly drifted to the side, acting out.  The violence she expressed on others, her art that she made up for left a trail.  They just smiled and nodded.  When she came across a voice whispering a promise that she'd see them in pain, she listened.  More than listened..  she agreed.
The betrayals were simple enough.  Just a phrase here and there, words placed at the right time.  Information.  Gossip.  It was too easy passing off and watching the dominoes fall into place as a job went bad, then another.  Territory was lost, things mismanaged, disappeared.  Punishment meted out.  The priesthood was in disarray, pointing fingers and casting out pain and fire wherever it could.  The chains of freedom and power were slipping and the nights were growing shorter on New York.  It was the fall of the city that her promised end came true.  
Her pack's haven was hit hard and fast.  Megan of course was off on a mission with Jack when it came down and everyone she knew and loved, everyone that she'd known, everyone that tortured and ignored her came to fire death.  Of course Jack was most surprised, probably by the blades she buried in him and tore him apart with.  She made sure he knew it was her before she finished the job.  She told him that she'd already killed Meredith, all bloody and red.  Torch the body on the way out and disappear.  As far as she knew, Meredith had died with the pack.  Her informant, handler made good on his wart covered, rotting word.  She was allowed passage out and fostered under another Toreador.  A long lost daughter, several cities away.  A new haven a new name.  This time Cassandra Williams, adopted daughter.  Enter life in Maryland high society.
Faithful estranged daughter to a Brian Jacobs.  Another Toreador, a man of refinement and some skill with secrets.  He was a good teacher, but Megan was a terrible student.  Their views on art, the subtleties of the lies and life in the Camarilla was a pale comparison to the blood and savagery she'd grown up in.  He tried to be patient with her.  They lasted for a few decades, her acts of violence taken in stride and she paid for them in the Camarilla way.  The stubborn daughter Brian didn't want, but was indebted to receive and play with.  That was until she found his weakness: one of his retainers, his favorite.
Megan made of game of it, seducing and slowly driving the pair apart.  This game took more time, took more effort.  It was something to entertain her though.  Through the words and actions she imparted on the pair, even pulling others unwittingly into her game, he eventually found fault in his lover and pet.  Poor Taylor.  She forgot what his last name was when the blame came down on him and Brian was forced to settle the score.  A dead retainer, blood on his hands, Brian could bear Megan no more.  She was sent from his house, his domain, and all to find her own way with his blessing or running from her secret.  The choice was hers.  So she fled.
The timing was auspicious in some ways.  She'd fallen in with some of the sort who reminded her of a life she'd long left.  In particular a car thief from Florida who was on the verge of trouble with the Boston PD.  Megan saw her chance and she took it.  Some blood, some flirtation, and a few bad choices later she was headed south with her new love.  Her latest toy, and back to Tiffany Jone's old streets of Starke.  She'd had an old house with attached car garage left to her by her father and it seemed like the perfect fit.  Her last favor called in with Brian, a promise to never see one another again, and she was travelling to Starke to try it all again..\\

And then She diablerized Jezebel…. ===++'+Big text++'+Big text+'+'+'+'