Sorcha (Soorka) Connolly
Contents
Concept[edit]
- Nature: Child
- Demeanor: Bon Viant
- Concept: Child of the Blood
- Clan: Toreador
- Generation: 8th
- Sire:
Attributes[edit]
- Physical
- Str: 2
- Dex: 3
- Sta: 2
- Social
- Cha: 2
- Man: 3
- App: 5
- Mental
- Per: 3
- Int: 2
- Wits:3
Abilities[edit]
- Talents
- Alertness: 3
- Athletics:
- Awareness: 3
- Brawl:
- Empathy:
- Expression: 3
- Intimidation: 1
- Leadership:
- Streetwise:
- Subterfuge: 3
- Skills
- Animal Ken:
- Crafts:
- Etiquette: 3
- Firearms:
- Larceny:
- Melee:
- Performance: 5
- Ride:
- Stealth: 3
- Survival:
- Knowledges
- Academics: 2
- Enigmas:
- Finance:
- Investigation: 3
- Law:
- Medicine:
- Occult:
- Politics:
- Science:
- Technology:
Advantages[edit]
- Disciplines
- Auspex:
- Celerity: 2
- Presence: 1
- Backgrounds
- Generation: 5
- Virtues
- Conscience: 2
- Self-Control: 4
- Courage: 3
Other Traits[edit]
- Humanity: 6
- Willpower: 7
- Merits and Flaws
- Catlike Balance
- Early Riser
- Inoffensive to Animals
- Short
- Child
- Infamous Sire(?)
Experience[edit]
Appearance[edit]
Background[edit]
Once upon a time people lived and died in the villages and small towns where they were born and between those times they never went more than many five miles from their homes.
That was me. I was born, I lived, and a I died in the small Irish village where I was born. But I did not stay dead, and after I died I traveled a good distance more than 5 miles from where I was born.
Set on one night while crossing a field, throat torn out, blood gulped down by a ravenous monster.
I would have died, as so many other girls like me had died, but for the fact I could sing. Like an Angel. Like a Demon.
that night I became what I am, not yet nine years old with forever stretching out in front of me. There were issues, politics, and we had to leave Ireland and Britain. We traveled the Continent, me a little song bird. I met other children in similar situations. A young boy named Wolfgan Motzart. I hear he came to a bad end. However, perhaps a decade after I became kindred, my Sire's past caught up with her. She was punished through me. I took some offence at that, as if I were a favorite toy to be taken away. However I had little time to be offended for I was injured near to death and then dumped into some crypt where I languished in torpor, forgotten, as decades piled upon decades.
And now I have been awoken in a new era.
I don't like it.
The English are taken with this thing called 'childhood'. Before, if I was polite and clever I was treated an an adult. Now, polite and clever are hardly important as I am a child, to be seen and not heard.
I don't care for it and I do not think I will stand for it.
