08-01-2013, 02:34 PM
And... when did Eliza get here?
The 'young woman' (but who can truly know how old one is amongst vampires?) has projected an aura which seems to say 'no no, I'm not here, don't pay attention', but now she chooses to step forwards and make herself known. Short. Dark beret, cream jacket, slim. She's got a washed-out look to her, as though standing up in front of all these people is literally draining the color out of her.
"I am Eliza North. Childe of The Broken Mirror, of the great Family Malkav." She says, "I... I helped in Round Rock, and Kent. Even Spokane, where I could. I don't know that I made a difference... but where there are Sabbat, I'll be there, to cut them out. For fifty years I've done what I can, and until I meet my Maker, or see the death of the last of them myself, I'll keep doing it. That is my, oath."
The last word is spoken with a certain seriousness, and then she does her best to shrink backwards. But she doesn't completely disappear. Her eyes are focused on the Tremere who just announced he and his compatriots were of the Sabbat in the past. The meekness has fallen away from her features, and there is loathing there, deep and abiding. Her anger is making it quite difficult to become once again part of the scenery, with her whole form tense and disturbed.
The 'young woman' (but who can truly know how old one is amongst vampires?) has projected an aura which seems to say 'no no, I'm not here, don't pay attention', but now she chooses to step forwards and make herself known. Short. Dark beret, cream jacket, slim. She's got a washed-out look to her, as though standing up in front of all these people is literally draining the color out of her.
"I am Eliza North. Childe of The Broken Mirror, of the great Family Malkav." She says, "I... I helped in Round Rock, and Kent. Even Spokane, where I could. I don't know that I made a difference... but where there are Sabbat, I'll be there, to cut them out. For fifty years I've done what I can, and until I meet my Maker, or see the death of the last of them myself, I'll keep doing it. That is my, oath."
The last word is spoken with a certain seriousness, and then she does her best to shrink backwards. But she doesn't completely disappear. Her eyes are focused on the Tremere who just announced he and his compatriots were of the Sabbat in the past. The meekness has fallen away from her features, and there is loathing there, deep and abiding. Her anger is making it quite difficult to become once again part of the scenery, with her whole form tense and disturbed.