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  1. Erzsébet's dark blue eyes narrowed on the woman singing on the small stage. She was not any image of a werewolf she was familiar with. The beasts of haunting the Carpathians were ravening savages barely glimpsed between the trees and under the shadows, their howls shivering the air. Very rarely seen, their threat was a nebulous presence hanging over the uncivilized regions of the area. The dusky skinned woman singing on stage conveyed none of that. Erzsébet would have thought this nothing more than one of Olaf's teasingly irritating follies, except the Burgomeister seemed too amused by the revelation. The small woman sniffed condescendingly. The 'lone wolf' was a product of modern storytelling. Wolves were a danger due to acting as a pact - in truth, a single wolf was far less dangerous. If the songstress turned out to be a rabid dog, she would be put down like a rabid dog. Erzsébet could not countenance that more than one lupine could have infiltrated as bastion of the Kine. Her gaze narrowed in interest as the predatory Italian noblewoman made her entrance, stylishly attired if disconcertingly tall compared to one of her modest height. Erzsébet politely nodded and waved when Artus excused himself to speak with the newcomer. Her eyes went to her ghoul sister Lillian, crimson lips curving with fondness as she danced with a tall man, well muscled with large hands able to completely encircle her waist who seemed to be likely entertainment for an evening. She rolled her eyes with exasperation when Artus returned with the woman and Olaf began his crass flirtations, but her lips tightened at Ravenna's condescension for their appetizers, her clear spite in enjoying any discomfort it may cause later. In response to Ravenna's disgust, Erzsébet helped her to a strawberry liberally dipped in rich cream, savoring it before standing up and slipping out of the booth. "Bella Ravenna, for some of us, death lays lightly upon us," Erzsébet murmured in a husky contralto at odds with her diminutive stature, "And we can still find pleasure in the trivialities of the Kine. Be it in gastronomic delight or the heated sensation of coupling with Kine or Kindred, what matter where we find it? There must be more to our damnation than merely cursed existence and blood and blood and blood." She gave the Italian a once-over, lips quirking. "There is nothing sad in not descending into a base beast, nor blasphemously believing one to be a god - for there is but One God. It is in fact, too often lamentably commendable for our kind. I do hope you can find your ease in Berlin, Ravenna. As for myself, I believe I am in the mood for some dancing." So saying, Erzsébet sashayed onto the dance floor to join Lillian. Petite and baroquely glamorous, the supposed Countess conveyed a sense of danger despite her delicate, curvaceous appearance. She moved like an enticing predator, graceful in her stiletto heeled boots, with a subtle strength out of proportion with her slim, short figure, her presence dominating the dance floor.
  2. Erzsébet had initially given the man a dismissive glance and almost waved him away. He was hardly handsome enough for her tastes and he dressed so common. But then his voice struck a chord of familiarity, as did his mannerisms, and after Artus called him by name, she realized the man as the Nosferatu Primogen. She had crossed paths with him at times when in attendance with the Brujah Elder, Dmitri. "Many have claimed so, but rather fewer have witnessed the truth of it," the petite Countess replied in gracious banter, the soft curve of red lips on her exquisite, sculpted features evoking innocence and wickedness in equal measure. "Good evening, Burgomeister Olaf." Lily earned a frown from Erzsébet, even as Olaf snapped at her for taking the Lord's name in vain, though she voiced no comment. Her own relationship with the Church and Faith was a complicated one, twisted both by the woman she believed herself to be and her enduring, if still relatively new, unlife. "Yes, there is much to said about making new acquaintances," the Countess replied to Lily, adding a put upon sigh that wasn't directed at her. "Though it seems one must work through much chaff these days. Why men believe these 'dick pics' are charming rather than vulgar and off putting, I shall never know." Despite her experience with dissembling, Erzsébet shivered at the mention of the Tzimisce, even as she revealed more perfect teeth in a grimace of distaste. To any who knew the signs, the touch of the Fiends was clear in the striking symmetry of her doll-like features and her pronounced hourglass, wasp waisted figure. Her elegant, sable brows crinkled in puzzlement. "Why ever would we have issue with the Kine of Israel? Lest they take hostile action towards us, of course." She made a dismissive wave. "At least on my behalf, I took no part in that trifle some decades back with the repressed mustachioed man. Indeed, we did our utmost to avoid it entirely." Erzsébet plucked up another slice of peeled blood orange. "An allusion to its colour rather than its composition, to be sure," she agreed, amused by the Burgomeister's youthful confusion, and consumed the slice of crimson citrus with a grin. "Still, is it not sweet and succulent? Other than learning the deftness of my tongue, does some other errand bring you to Annalisa's luxurious demesne?"
  3. Erzsébet raised her glass of wine to eye level, met everyone's gaze for a moment, then returned Artus' toast in what she couldn't think of as anything other than her native tongue. “Egészségünkre.” Her dark blue eyes grew distant as she daintily bit into a slice of Moro Blood Orange a crimson as deep as her lips, the sweetest exploding on her tongue. She called herself a Countess, thought of Hungarian as her mother tongue. So much of her life, and her life beyond death, she now knew to be false, and yet, it felt no less true. Perhaps it never would, and she was not sure if she wished it were so. Damned as she was, she would not be able to ask God who she had once been for only Final Death awaited her. Unconsciously, she grimace, flashing a pair of canines that looked suspiciously sharp. How she hated what her Lord, Prince János Corvin Hunyadi had done to her, robbing her of her life and her self, hated him as much as she loved him still. She shook her head and made a dismissive gesture with her free hand, banishing thoughts of him for the nonce. The young, curvaceous Countess dipped her head towards Lily, acknowledging her comment on her attire, a slow, pleased grin gracing her crimson lips. "Indeed. Me, I am coming late to immersing myself in these times, but I try, with the aid of my... sisters. My Lo - no matter. I have found Berlin much to my liking. You area songstress, but are you having other interests you may like to share? Myself, I am fond of playing the idle student at the universities. In my time, advanced education was frowned upon for most women, though my wealth and station allowed me certain indulgences. I have found a keen interest in the student of language and linguistics."
  4. "American, no?" Erzsébet confirmed in fluent German, though her surprisingly husky contralto still held a strong Hungarian accent. "I have heard you sing, but have not had the pleasure." Slim fingers ringed in silver and tipped with stiletto nails painted a glossy black caressed the stem of a glass of dark red wine as she nodded graciously to the rustic chanteuse. "Well met. I am the Countess Erzsébet Corvin." The petite woman was quite the sight, not the least for her claim to nobility. With huge, dark blue eyes and the exquisite, fearfully symmetrical facial features of a doll, she barely looked old enough to be admitted to CLUB verwöhnen, yet she held an aristocratic bearing that belonged to someone decades older or more. She wore a corset as deep a scarlet as her lips that emphasized her minuscule waist and high, full breasts and shiny, leather pants laced and embellished on the sides. Her black boots looked expensive with impractically high heels and red soles and her long, sable hair was pinned up in an elaborate updo, held in place with silver pins and combs. Erzsébet glanced around the night club with the eyes of a predator, though there was fondness when they rested on her near twin, though one dressed more flamboyantly in a patterned party dress, hair dyed a glaring red, orange, and yellow. Another Erzsébet - No, she prefers Lillian now, Erzsébet reminded herself for the thousandth time. The wicked, unholy, seductive Hunger stirred inside her. She had not sated it this night, though she had been eying the tall, trim man Lillian had been vulgarly dancing too close with. But Annalisa's suggestion offered potentially more delicious delights. Erzsébet gave Lily and her host a subdued grin with just a hint of teeth showing. "And perhaps, more than nipping if the night goes well? Have you spent much time in Berlin, Lily? It is a city with history and much to see, much culture. I have found it quite welcoming in my short time here." Her red lips curved down in a faint frown, considering some of the other Kindred that inhabited the city, particularly the ostentatiously rebellious members of her own clan. She took a sip of wine, heady, if not so tasty as something thicker, redder. "For the most part, to be sure."
  5. Erzsébet Personal Information Real Name: Erzsébet (Unknown) Identities: Countess Erzsébet Corvin Nature: Celebrant Demeanor: Soldier Concept: Ghoul Noblewoman and Companion/Servant (What she was before is Unknown) Clan: Brujah Generation: 7th Sire: Pyotr Date of Birth: Unknown Date of Death: August 20th, 2011 (St. Stephen's Day) Nationality: Hungarian (Unknown) Region Active: Berlin, Germany Occupation: Dilettante Noblewoman/Socialite and occasional Student Allegiance(s): Dmitri, (Maybe others in Berlin) Physical Traits Gender: Female Ethnic Background: Hungarian and Slovakian (Unknown) Age: Unknown (23 according to current paperwork) Apparent Age: Teens-to-Thirties Height: 5'1'' Weight: 102 lbs Eyes: Dark Blue Hair: Raven Black; waist length, always well styled Handedness: Left Appearance: Erzsébet is a petite woman of delicate and surpassing, and to those who know what to look for, not quite natural, beauty. She possesses a flawless, aged ivory complexion that glows with health and vigor and which contrasts gorgeously with her silky, glistening waist-length sable hair - always elegantly and stylishly coiffed - and her naturally crimson lips. Her figure is svelte and supple and almost exaggerated with her waspishness of waist yet fullness and youthful firmness of breast and hip. Her physical age is very difficult to judge. Her very fine and delicate features and huge, incredibly dark blue eyes should convey youth and innocence, but her aristocratic bearing, insouciant sensuality, and developed figure belongs to an older, more mature and experienced woman. She has been thought to be anywhere in her teens to her thirties. Her voice is sweet yet surprisingly low for a woman of her size and despite being fluent in nearly a dozen languages, she has a pronounced Hungarian accent. She carries herself with a fluid and noble grace and always dresses in sophisticated Gothic-Victorian fashions of the finest make, with growing steampunk or modern flourishes. Though she always wears corsets and high heels (the way her feet and calves and tendons have been shaped make wearing anything less than 4 inches uncomfortable), with her growing independence, Erzsébet is as likely to wear pants as skirts or dresses now. She only wears shades of white, red, and black. Still looking for more and/or better pics for Erzsébet Abilities/Special Skills: Erzsébet is a very adept linguist along with having an academic interest in the development of language. She is also deceptively skilled in the use of firearms and various blades, is an exquisite ballroom dancer, and has manners belonging to those of high society. Quirks -Always wears corsets (either as under or outer wear) and high heels. Only wears shades of White, Red, and Black. -Can't respond to any name other than Erzsébet -Won't willingly allow anyone to use Domination or Vicissitude on her, or even allow a Tzimisce to touch her, not without growing violent -Avoids the Spandau district as much as possible -Quite religious and regularly goes to church to pray, but has only contempt and disgust for clergy and priests. She doesn't need them to intercede when she speaks with God, they are but men and as false as any other, and more hypocritical than most. -Never directly harms children and doesn't like seeing others doing so, possibly to the point of getting violent -Usually has at least one pistol and knife on her person, always handcrafted and elegantly decorated -Genuinely loves her twin Retainers and sees any assault on them as an assault on herself. -Due to her time as a Ghoul and the circumstances around how she first feed as a Vampire, Erzsébet finds the blood of Cainites far more delicious than the blood of Canaille, though she is by no means adverse to feeding on the Kine, as long as they are not ugly or dirty -Though it has been explained to most, some still believe Erzsébet capable of going out in sunlight due to the identical appearances of her and her ghouls Background Once, I had face, a life, of my own. But that was before I met my Lord and Husband, Prince János Corvin Hunyadi. He gave me a mask to wear I cannot take off, and a life shadowed by blood and eternal night. It began, I think with the onset of the Great War. The detente with the Ottoman Turks had ended and they were invading - No! I am sorry, that was from another time, long ago, when my first husband Count Ferenc Nádasdy outmaneuvered János for my hand, which was only to be expected. The Nádasdy were wealthy and influential, almost as much so as the Báthory, while the Hunyadi had fallen on hard times since King Matthias Corvinus, and János was an illegitimate son, besides. This time, the Ottomans were our allies and Austria-Hungary went to war with the Serbians and their allies, the Russian Czars, for the assassination of the Archduke. My family and I, we were just trying to find a place of safety in the mountains. We came across a small village under a castle in Slovakia. An uncommonly beautiful pair of sisters, twins, offered us to guest in the Csejte Castle, and being tired and hungry with nothing but what we could carry on our backs, we could hardly refuse. And that is where I met the man, the vampire, that was the Lord and Husband I was always meant to have. He looked at me and I forgot those I had come with under the love swelling beneath my breasts. He told me I had come home, and it was so. He kissed me and it was ecstasy. I drank the wine that was his blood and it was transcendent. His hands molded my flesh like clay as his voice and eyes molded my soul, and he revealed to me who I now would be, who I was meant to be. I was the countess Erzsébet Bathory, infamous for bathing in the blood of virgin girls and performing countless sacrilegious acts of torture and murder. All rubbish and calumny of course. When my husband died, I was one of the wealthiest and most powerful women in the land. I was well educated and of exquisite birth, I saw no need to hand my wealth and influence to another man. The Crown and the Church of course couldn't abide my independence, wishing the wealth and influence for their own. They fouled my and my family's name and reputation with lies and gossip, and charged me with these most unholy of acts. It was preposterous, yet they produced dozens of witnesses to my supposed atrocities, even to having all but one of my servants testify against me. I would wager they were bought off with promises, gold, or indulgences. Inevitably, I was judged guilty, but it would not have been politically expedient to have me burned at the stake. So I was sentenced to confinement in Csejte Castle, bricked up in a tower suite. I did not die, but lingered, my flesh growing old and the false accusations wearing down on my. I prayed to God and did not blame him, but for his clergy, I have nothing but hate for, for they are as vice-ridden and greedy as any man, despite their protestations to a higher calling. And then my Lord and Husband found me and released my from my torment. He returned to me my youth and beauty, my innocence, and transformed my prison back into my home. It had been many centuries, but János Corvin Hunyadi had gone so far as to damn himself in his pursuit to save me and destroy the ones who had profaned me. How could not one love and serve such as he, even with his dark curse? So I served him, faithfully and gladly, as a wife and retainer and guard, his eyes, ears, and hands under the sun were he could no longer go. Myself and all the other Erzsébets he had saved, my sisters, my mirrors, my other selves. There was no jealousy among us, for all our love and devotion were for János, and he loved us in return, for we were exactly as he wished us to be. Sometimes we were young and nubile, at others, more mature and lush, as his fancy took him, but mostly a mix of the two. Over the decades however, I saw found our faces differing more from the original portrait he had of us, as he desired a new aesthetic. For you see, our Lord and Husband was quite mad, perhaps senile, though of course, we could not love him any less. I learned my place in the court of the Cainites as once I had known my place among the upper echelons of the Canaille. I brought back suitable vessels to my Domitor János, for sustenance or to join his harem of Erzsébets, as he decided. I acted as hostess for his rare guests among the Damned, and as his companion and bodyservant on the even more rare times he traveled to his other estates and properties or other Kindred. Twice, I attended János when he visited brethren at Hunedoara Castle in Romania, and never have I been to a place so profanely sanctified, debauchery and transcendence so entwined. It terrified me, made me feel unclean, and yet, still, I yearn for it. It was a fine life I thought. I had a powerful man who loved me, and being the scion of a King and Prince was wealthy and showered us with gifts. He bestowed upon us the ambrosia that was his blood - the ecstatic nectar of Cainite blood - and we were beautiful as few others and ever young. I grew strong and unlike my cursed Love, Lord, and Husband, I could still bask under God's bright sun. But always, the shadow of what he was was there. The bodies that had to be disposed of, having to submit as sustenance for his guests. Each decade of so, he would choose an Erzsébet and try to make of her a true wife and equal, but he would always fail, for he could produce no Childer of his own. His mood would be foul and dark for weeks afterwards, until he forgot he had ever did such a thing. Until the next time. I regret he never choose me for the Gift, for I loved him most and knew I could survive Damnation to remain by his side forever. The years, they began to run together. Things changed, and the Erzsébets, we were aware of it, but in Csejte Castle, progress seemed far away, we lived in a near perpetual stasis. There would have been ennui in that, were it not for the all consuming love and desire we could not help feel for our Lord and Husband, and for each other. Some years after the newest millennium, I was in Bratislava on errands for János when I was most rudely accosted. When I regained my senses, I found myself bound before two rather disheveled men. It took me a moment to recognized them as Cainites that had paid a stop at Csejte Castle. But as they were mere Rabble and peasants, with not even a letter of introduction by someone of standing, I had to turn them away rather brusquely without even informing my Husband. These two Cainites, Russian Bolsheviks or the like, I believed, seemed to have issue with my dismissal and with my Husband, and grew most wroth when I told I saw no need to apologize. When they sought to use their Cainite Disciplines to instill in me a hatred and rage towards my Lord and Husband, I openly scoffed at them for trying to turn my love into something other. They did not seem to like my response - I must admit, I may have used language a proper lady should not. They drained me dry, and I felt the familiar ecstasy, though their Kiss was still lesser to that of my Lord. Melancholy flowed through me as my blood flowed out at the thought I would never see my love János Corvin Hunyadi ever again, even as an unworthy kernel of hate and rage wormed its way into the stillness of my no longer beating heart. Then one of them, named Pyotr I heard the other say, gave of himself his own blood. My heart no longer beat, I no longer breathed, but I lived. Existing among the Society of the Kindred was all I have ever known, yet I had never seen a personage successfully given the cursed blessing. But I had heard much of it. These poor Rabble expected me to be weak, planned on returning me to János in near Frenzy, to cause trouble and pain. But I had fed on Elder blood for longer than either had been alive or dead, I hungered, I was quite distressed at being restrained in returning to my Love and Husband, and the hate and rage they had tried to instill in me burned brighter. I consumed the blood of the woman they had given to me, though it was sour with narcotics and disease, but I was not satiated. I fear I quite lost control of myself and let my anger get the best of me, alas. These poor Brujah had not expected me to be so strong nor fast, but I had always looked to the safety of János. To be honest, they seemed to be even more surprised by the elegant, large bore revolver I pulled from my purse and used with great skill, but I admit, I derived far more satisfaction by using the matching dagger on them. I Hungered so and there was a great deal of Cainite Nectar about, it seemed a crime to let go to waste. As I had the poor woman, I drank the feebly protesting Brujah of all the sweet, sweet blood in their undead veins. The taste, the ecstasy of it was even more potent, now that I had passed the threshold to the other side of life. But it was as nothing next to the sensation of what I felt when they were dry of the sanguine ambrosia and I couldn't help but keep drawing more sustenance from them, until I took the remnants of their soul into me, if Cainites still possessed such. You cannot know the utter, euphoria rapture of it without experiencing it yourself. Diablerie was one of the greatest crimes about the Cainites, and surely God will never forgive me such a sin, but in that moment, I would have willingly accepted damnation to taste it once more. When I was done, I was quite a mess and very late in returning home. I cleaned myself and made myself presentable once more, which required a stop at a reputable atelier. My Love for my Husband was no less, but it seemed to have grown.. fragile, and a seething hate and rage lurked beneath the surface that I could not seem to dispel. I returned to Csejte Castle in the dark, and begged forgiveness of my husband for my unfortunate tardiness. I had though he would see the change in me immediately, but I yet retained the blush of health, youth, and innocence as all the other Erzsébets and he seemed unaware. And as I lay with him while the sun began to rise, I grew aware of the mask he had put on me, that I had worn for near a century. I could not take it off, but I knew it for what it was. The sun sent János Corvin Hunyadi to sleep, but I resisted yet. Still, I loved him, but the hate for what he had done to me, rage that I could no resist or retaliate, doubled and redoubled again. My teeth grazed his neck, then pierced his cold flesh, and I began to drink, slow, tender, and thorough, until Final Death. Crimson tears crept down my cheeks and János my love never once resisted or protested. The Brujah peasants had been but aperitifs. János Corvin Hunyadi had been an Elder Cainite, even older than I had imagined or he had claimed, a son to a King and a Prince in his own right. The power in his blood, in the essence that I took into myself, overwhelmed me and I quite lost myself. When I collected myself once more, I found myself among a throng of Erzsébets, all with their throats torn open. I believe I tried pass on my new state with my sisters, my mirrors, so I would not be alone, but alas, they same defect that János had been inflicted had been passed on to me in my vile sin. Only two of my sisters had escaped my ecstatic madness. But I could not bear to lose them them as well. Our Lord and Husband had passed most unfortunately, but I would take them into my service if they were so willing, and they agreed. Alas, while János may have been reclusive, he was still an Elder of the Tzimisce, and the Clan was insular and... Clannish. They would not abide my presence in my ancestral - I mean to say, the place I had been forced to believe was my ancestral home, if and when they learned of my crime. The entire Carpathians would be denied me. Erzsébet Corvin was the sole inheritor of János Corvin, and in the following weeks, we disposed or hid ownership of most of my assets and property in the Eastern Bloc countries, to my distress. It was not truth, but Hungary and Slovakia were the nations I had known as home. And then we made preparations to move my household. I had been fond of Vienna, but the Tremere were very traditional and ruled that city with an iron fist. It would suit, if I did not believe they would turn my over to the Tzimisce at the most expedient moment. I settled on Berlin. It had exquisite museums and well respected centers of learning and I had always been - or at least considered myself, a well educated and sophisticated woman for my time, and was fluent in German, among many other languages. János' property there was mine now and I took possession of it, accompanied by my two remaining twins. I presented myself to Prince Dietrich and made my obeisance. He and Dmitri were perfect gentlemen and quite accepting of my presence, when I explained the unfortunate circumstances leading to my relocation, though of course, I saw no need to reveal all that transpired. Now, it has been scant a decade that I have found myself from being a subservient scion outside the Court of Cainites to one of its members, and still, I wonder at my place in it, without my Lord and Husband János at my side. Damn him to the deepest reaches of Hell! And damn me too. Though I despise all his servants, I can't help but wonder if God could ever forgive such a one as I? Especially as I do not even know who I truly am, beyond the fantasy a senile man put upon me like an iron mask. Character Sheet Ghoul #1 Ghoul #2
  6. Huzzah! What fun! This is most splendid, most splendid indeed!
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