Blood and Bourbon
The Afterhours King
“Most people in my position would consider Sundown a competitor, or a threat. I prefer to think of him as an inspiration, and a friend. I challenge him, he challenges me, and we are both the better for it. What more could one ask for?”
The man who is now known as Sundown was once a fair-skinned boy of Creole extraction. Now he appears as a racially indistinct gentleman of considerable good looks—not so attractive as to be threatening, but more than handsome enough to put everyone around him at ease. He dresses in popular fashions and always tailors his attire to suit whatever club he’s in, even if that means changing clothes on the way from one club to another.
One of the most well-known Kindred in all of New Orleans is also the one with the least active interest in the Byzantine power struggles at work. Indeed, this independent spirit has earned for himself no small measure of respect (albeit grudging, on some occasions) for his staunch refusal to venture into the political arena. This respect, in turn, only further increases his fortunes.
The reason the views of this one Kindred, who calls himself Sundown, are of such consequence is due to his remarkable influence over the mortal nightlife in New Orleans, and thus, over the mortal pulse of the city. If he were to lend his support to any of the three major Kindred players, the results would substantially assist the beneficiary. Some even claim they could turn the tide of the Big Easy’s political deadlock. For this reason, it serves the purposes of everyone involved that he remain politically neutral, and thus far, Sundown—the patron of New Orleans revelry and Regent of Faubourg Marigny—has disappointed no one.
Sundown is perhaps best known for his ownership and management of several Kindred-hospitable bars and nightclubs in and around his parish. The largest and most successful of his clubs, the Carnival Club, was even declared Elysium some years back and has since become known as part of the local Rack among the city’s hip neonates. The trademarks of a Sundown club include tinted glass (when the structure isn’t below street level), moodlit rooms and mirrors only in the bathrooms. Before Katrina, even the Prince called upon Sundown’s establishments from time to time, and he can probably claim the most consistently amicable relations (overall) with the Nosferatu of the city’s three major Kindred figures.
As a Nosferatu, Sundown goes against type on just about all fronts. He’s sociable, approachable and stylish, and he clearly prefers lavish penthouse apartments to the dank and homely quarters often associated with his clanmates. His social and economic power disturbs more than a few traditionalist types in the city, and most of all Antoine Savoy, who abides the Nosferatu’s power and presence only because not doing so would put the Prince at even greater advantage. Many believe that the Toreador plans to use Sundown as a stepping stone to Princedom, though no one can say with any surety how or when the would-be usurper might accomplish such a feat. Then again, almost every other politically motivated Kindred in New Orleans surely has similar aspirations.
The Afterhours King simply smiles and tells them they’re all welcome at his clubs.
Sundown claims ignorance of his sire’s identity. Despite his political stature, he is not believed to have ever asked the Prince for permission to Embrace.