Campaign of the Month: October 2017
Blood and Bourbon
Stunning young social butterfly
“Hey you, do you like me now?
Are you in love with somebody I was?
Hey you, do you see me ’round
And hate the person that I’ve become?
Hey you, do you like my style?
I stole it from somebody I killed
Hey you, do you like my smile?
I got it from the blood that I spilled."
“Beauty is pain. And beauty is everything.”
“We stopped checking for monsters under the bed when we realized they were inside of us.”
“Darling, I’m a nightmare dressed like a daydream.”
Jade Kalani is the epitome of her clan’s thoughts on beauty. She is perfectly pulchritudinous, a divine goddess; she has often been compared to Aphrodite herself, and more than one kine has fallen for the Toreador’s otherworldly looks. It is extraordinarily rare to see Jade in anything less than full glamour: hair, makeup, nails, clothing. Every inch of her is painted, sculpted perfection, from the shade of her foundation to the wing of her eyeliner to the fresh coat of polish on her nails. Her polish does not chip. Her mascara does not run. Her lipstick does not smudge. Everything is in its place.
Her hair is dark and often worn loosely curled or piled atop her head in the latest fashion, her dark eyes framed by long lashes, smoked out shadow, and impeccable liquid liner. Her waist is trim, her cheekbones high, her nose aquiline; all of these features are enhanced by the easy way smiles take to her face. Lord Savoy once said of her, “she smiles with her eyes before it ever touches her lips.”
From afar, it is easy to see how she has gathered the people around her that she has. Poise, grace, the gentle curving of her lips when she smiles. Some jealous, petty mortals might whisper that she has had work done. But that’s the key to good work, isn’t it? When it’s bad it’s obvious, when it’s good you cannot tell. And no one can tell what, exactly, has happened to make her into this exquisite creature.
Jade dresses for the occasion. She does not don clothing that will not make her stand out; indeed, if her very garb does not catch the eye then she assumes that she has done something wrong. Unless, of course, she seeks to blend; but truly what rose has ever wanted to lie with the rest of the weeds? At Elysium she favors long, flowing gowns of chiffon and tulle, and at Antoine Savoy’s Elysia she favors skirts, dresses, and other cute and sparkly things that can only be described as “flouncy.” Her wardrobe is as versatile as the ocean’s moods. Rarely is she seen in the same thing twice.
Dark colors, bold colors, pastels: it all looks at home against her skin. She is comfortable in gowns and leathers and can pull off leggings and over-sized, deconstructed tees as well. Her accessories err on the side of expensive and tasteful; she has never once had cause to be mocked for being gaudy or ostentatious. Her signature ring is three golden bands soldered together, beset with diamond and opal in the shape of a sun that is always worn on her left center finger.
Name: Jade Kalani
Ethnicity: Varies by story
Date of Birth: August 22nd, 1986 (unknown location)
Date of Embrace: April 2, 2009 (New Orleans, Louisiana)
Apparent Age: Early 20s
Actual Age: Approx. 30
Weight: 120 lbs
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Brown
Some licks like to play it close to the vest about their mortal identities. They hem and haw and never really say anything, and so they cloud their origins in mysterious trappings and think that it makes them somehow appealing. As if the rest of the city has nothing better to do than pry the secrets of their mortal lives from their cold, dead hands.
Jade has taken the opposite approach. She spins tall tales about her breather life at every new opportunity: her father knocked up her mother and then knocked her around. Her mother abandoned the family. Her father was an actor, or the president, or hated his life so much that he took it on his own. Or maybe he hated the world so much that he left it, and now he lives on the ISS. Her mother was a ballerina, a teacher, a pianist, a whore, a stripper. She has a sibling. She has seven siblings. She has zero siblings. Her parents were hippies and she was their youngest. She’s from Chicago, New York, LA. No, she’s from Russia, haven’t you heard that accent she can pull off?
Regardless of where she claims to be from or who she says her family is, some things remain the same: medical school, a plastics program (though whether it’s Case or John Hopkins or UCLA is still unclear), and an affinity for enhancing people’s beauty.
When asked why she doesn’t talk about her mortal years, Jade simply shrugs and says, “It’s not my life anymore.”
For years Jade resided within the lush domain of the French Quarter, close to her business and the Evergreen itself. She was the youngest neonate in city history to receive a prime spot on Bourbon Street: it made some whisper that she is closer to the Lord of the Quarter than either of them let on. They say that he took her in shortly after her Embrace, that she learned about the All-Night Society directly from his lips, and that he spent years hiring trainers and tutors for the lucky wretch.
Then he released her.
The city learned that Jade Kalani is not some empty-headed slut with a mirror for a hand. Those who saw her in the Battle of the Arts district won’t forget the fire in her eyes or whirling claws: they watched her charge into the fray at the head of the pack and take command of the rats at her side, watched her fight the Hardliners with prowess none knew the pretty lick possessed, watched her drag the bloody wreck of bodies back to safety.
Then they’d watched her stitch them back together. Watched her take command of the Evergreen’s private party hall to set up a triage station that saved the lives and unlives of numerous Bourbons and their ghouls. Even the nobodies were taken care of by Jade’s steady hands.
Then she goes further. Jade abandons the cushy domain in the middle of the French Quarter that let her hide behind the faction’s skirts and stakes her claim in the Arts District to expand its borders and protect her regent’s domain from interlopers.
Rumors fly, but one truth comes up again and again now that Jade’s mask has come off:
Antione Savoy’s lapcat is a tiger.
Jade is exactly who she needs to be when she needs to be it. She is akin to a social chameleon: she is at home at the Lancea et Sanctum’s somber midnight masses, at Antoine Savoy’s bacchanalic soirees, at a Brujah rant, and at a high society mortal function. She is polite and charming to everyone she meets until they give her reason not to be, and then they find out why someone so young is so well regarded by the city’s harpies.
Though the exact address of Jade’s haven is not well known, the Toreador resides somewhere within the confines of the French Quarter. Her luxury apartment is small but well-furnished, and its premiere piece is the pink velvet couch that is rumored to have belonged to Coco Chanel herself. The walls themselves are brick and wood, the kitchen counter tops marble, and the blackout curtains the finest, most luxurious that money can buy. Other amenities include a pool table and spacious king-sized bed in the loft upstairs, where it is rumored that she entertains both guests and her ghouls.
Jade staked her claim on a swath of land in the Art District shortly after the Bourbons pushed the Hardliners out of the area. She’d already had her sights set on Harrah’s, so when the Mafioso Gangrel fell in battle at Mt. Carmel Jade seized her chance to get in while the getting was good.
From Magazine Street to Convention Center Blvd between Canal and Poydras, Jade runs it all. Its location near the Quarter makes it a popular spot for out-of-towners looking for a classier place to stay, and Jade has begun answering their call for more local-friendly places.
Jade’s ability to ingratiate herself to people on both sides of the fence has gone a long way in the friends and allies that she has gathered toward her. She is a peripheral member of various krewes and has a long list of people that can call on her and upon whom she can call, though she has not yet pledged herself to a single krewe. (High Rollers •, Night Axles •)
• Celia Flores
Jade met Celia sometime before the girl opened her business in 2010. It was shortly after the Toreador’s Embrace and the timing has made some think that Jade and Celia were long-time friends or lovers prior to Jade’s Embrace. It is said that Jade is the one who provided the startup funding to Celia (in addition to the girl’s mother) after securing an interest-free loan from both Antione Savoy and Veronica Alsten-Pirrie. Jade convinced Celia to put in an entire suite for her where she can bring her Kindred guests, and has made a name for herself among the city for her ability with blade and brush.
Jade Kalani’s reputation for courting Kindred is similar to her sire’s, and rumors abound about people with whom she has dallied. Such notable marks include her sire Veronica, the exiled prince Marcel Guilbeau, Coco Duquette’s childe Roderick Durant, Toreador Anarch Maxzille Babineaux, Toreador Anarch Ayame Seong-Jin (she must have a thing for ladies in leather), longtime rivals William Corolla and Reynaldo Gui (at the same time), the Brujah bokor Doc Xola, as well as both Antione Savoy and his childe, Donovan. She went steady with Nico Cimpreon for a while before his disappearance in 2011. She was spotted by Sundown to be in the embrace of the archon Jonathan North, and looked a little too handsy for it to be anything resembling platonic. Some even say she has had relations with Prince Vidal, though never in his hearing.
She is, however, most frequently seen on the arm of her sire’s cousin-in-blood Pietro Silvestri. Some say that he was the nameless Toreador who also sought to Embrace her, and has since contented himself with securing a blood bond with the stunning neonate.
Despite her relative youth, Jade has quickly made a name for herself with the local Camarilla. Though allied to Lord Savoy and thought to be partially behind her sire’s defections from one camp to another, Jade has not overtly moved against anyone within Vidal’s dominion. Her glib tongue and honeyed speech has caused her to make friends on both sides of the fence. She is perfectly courteous to any who approach. Many assume that she will ascend higher yet, and quickly too, given both her friends in high places and her own ambition. (Camarilla Status •)
Jade is well-known and well-received by the Lord of the French Quarter. After her Embrace in 2009 she was quick to join his faction despite her sire’s then-allegiance to the Anarch Movement under Coco Duquette and Miss Opal prior to its factional split. Jade has never once said “I told you so” to her sire, but it is thought that Veronica’s defection to Savoy’s camp has much to do with where her childe ended up. (Bourbon Sanctified Status •)
As far as her clan, Jade is thought to be a rising star and shows much potential. While some Toreador despair that Veronica’s eldest childe is not a famous wordsmith, painter, or singer, many know that her true talents lie in beauty itself. Some think it is easy for Kindred to make themselves beautiful, but Jade is a cut above the rest. She does not simply make people beautiful: she makes them pristine. Flawless. Even the city’s harshest critics have nothing to say once she gets them on her table. Her grandsire, Accou Poincaré, is thought to be much taken by his grandchilder’s skill with plastic surgery. (Toreador Status •)
Jade’s demeanor is often seen to take after both her sire and grandsire, and she has used both honey and vinegar to gain regard among the city’s harpies. Though she is not yet one of them herself, most think it is only a matter of time until she dethrones a reigning harpy or simply joins their numbers. (Harpy Status •)
Status: Ghouls •
Alana has been with her mistress since early in the Toreador’s Requiem. Though not the first ghoul that Jade took she seems to be the favored, if the obsequious way she serves her mistress is any indication. It speaks to a loyalty beyond mere blood. Alana serves a variety of functions for Jade, including personal assistant and business manager. She is not considered Jade’s herald, but she is the person to speak to regarding meetings and other business to do with Jade. Day manager for her domitor at Flawless Spa.
Status: Ghouls 0
Status: Ghouls 0
• Jade is Celia’s employee.
• Jade is Celia’s employer.
• Jade is Celia’s domitor.
• Jade has slated Celia for Embrace and only waits for the right moment.
• Jade was once Roderick Durant’s lover; after their brief time together she jumped ship to court both Reynaldo Gui and William Corolla to get back at him for ending their relationship.
• Jade sells bodies for Randolph Cartwright.
• Jade’s only interest in attending Elysium is to catch the eye of the ever-illusive Donovan.
• Jade’s perversions include topping her multiple ghouls and engaging in sex with mortals.
• There was a fight over who would get to Embrace her.
• The reason she doesn’t talk about her mortal life is because she doesn’t remember it.
• Jade is the prettiest lick in the city.
• Prior to her Embrace, Jade raised a baby with a vampire.
• There’s a wet room in Jade’s house where she dismembers people who get on her bad side.
• Her body count is as high as Bundy’s—and that’s prior to her Embrace.
• Jade was Embraced long before 2009. She was in Torpor until her true sire was lost to Katrina.
• She is particularly close to a number of Tremere for one who is not of the chantry.
• Jade is being groomed and vetted by Jonathon North as his servire within New Orleans, with plans to become an archon herself.
• Jade is a changeling and no true Toreador at all. Her bloodline is some weird mix of lick and fae.
• Jade once danced naked with a devil in the pale moonlight.
• Jade is a high-functioning addict. Her vice of choice is ecstasy.
• Jade is Lord Savoy‘s lapcat: his pet neonate, nothing more.
• Jade has been Lord Savoy’s paramour since the eve of her Embrace.
• Jade is Lord Savoy’s childe. Years ago he promised Veronica Alsten-Pirrie something of great value to cover for his illegal Embrace.
• Jade runs a side business out of her spa: she sells women into the sex trade for the Mafia.
Quotes by Jade
“He shouldn’t trust me. I’m a self-serving, manipulative cunt. I know it. One day my unlife will come crashing down around me and anything standing in the blast radius will be destroyed. I can’t even tell him the worst of it. The things I’ve done.”
“I’ll just hurt him. Again.”
—Jade Kalani’s thoughts on Roderick Durant
“No one can focus with their dick buried between my thighs, darling. He won’t know which way is up.”
—Jade Kalani to Pietro Silvestri
“I can handle him.”
“You? The sheriff?”
“Haven’t you heard? My pussy is magic.”
—Jade Kalani to Reynaldo Gui about Donovan
Quotes about Jade
“The apple didn’t fall far from the tree with Madam Alsten-Pirrie’s childe, but many might say it rolled to a more comfortable spot. Her fruits have all of her sire’s sweetness without the bitter seeds.”
“Jade Kalani can manipulate flesh as easily as she does hearts.”
—The Bourbon Sanctified
“One of Mr. Savoy’s harlots.”
“I steal things. She steals hearts.”
“The only thing more dangerous than a woman with a pretty face is one with the brains to use it.”
“I’ve seen enough of the Kindred, Miss Kalani, to realize the more attractive the package, the more dangerous the contents.”
“You’re a sexy fucking bitch.”
—William “Will” Carolla
• 5. Unknown sire
• 6. Pearl Chastain (e. centuries ago)
• 7. Accou Poincaré (e. mid 18th century)
• 8+. The Santiago brood (e. varies)
• 8. Avoyelles Desormeaux (e. mid 19th century)
• 9+. The Lafayette brood (e. varies)
• 8. Marguerite Defallier (e. late 19th century)
• 9. Abraham “Bram” Garcia (e. mid 20th century)
• 10. Maxzille “Max” “Zilly” “Zillah” Babineaux (e. mid 20th century)
Anne Sommers (e. late 20th century, d. 2005)
• 12. David Hansen (e. early 21st century)
• 9. Aniyah Bailey (e. early 21st century)
• 8. Veronica Alsten-Pirrie (e. early 20th century)
• 9. Jade Kalani (e. early 21st century)
Amaryllis DeCuir (e. early 21st century, d. 2016)
Bruno Courtet (e. late 18th century, d. early 20th century)
• 8. Katherine Beaumont (e. early 20th century)
Pablo Gallegro (e. early 20th century, d. late 20th century)
Rayisa Kostenko (e. late 20th century, d. 2005)
Barthélemy Lafon (e. early 19th century, d. 2005)
Valentine St. James (e. early 19th century, d. 2005)
• 9. Lisette Toussaint (e. mid 19th century)
• 8. Pietro Silvestri (e. early 20th century)
• 7. Adelais Seyrès (e. late 19th century)
Jade is the childe of Veronica Alsten-Pirrie, one of the more cruel-tempered of the city’s harpies and the primary instigator of the recent factional split between the Anarchs. Veronica is the childe of Accou Poincaré, the former prince of Santiago, regent of the Lower Garden District during Pearl Chastain’s torpor, the junior of their clan’s two primogen (though an elder in his own right), and the third-eldest councilor on the Prima Invicta, the Invictus’ ruling body in New Orleans. Accou is the childe of Pearl Chastain, the matriarch and senior primogen for their clan in New Orleans, the regent of the Lower Garden District, and the eldest member of the Prima Invicta. Pearl has not publicly spoken of her sire, but is believed to be of the sixth generation and a great-grandchilde of Arikel.
Jade’s broodmate Amaryllis DeCuir was a promising young singer who caught their sire’s eye in the early 2010s. After John Harley Matheson subjected her to a blood bond, she remained loyal to Coco Duquette’s and Miss Opal’s faction during the split among the Anarchs and has been estranged from her sire. She met final death in the 2016 Battle of Mid-City.
The [human] soul, mind, or spirit.
The goddess of the soul with beauty that rivaled Aphrodite.
The totality of the [human] mind, conscious and unconscious.
The overlap and tension between the personal and the collective elements in [man].
The ultimate “self” in the sense of conscious personality.
—Collected definitions of “psyche”
“I have been compelled, in my investigations into the structure of the unconscious, to make a conceptual distinction between soul and psyche. By psyche, I understand the totality of all psychic processes, conscious as well as unconscious. By soul, on the other hand, I understand a clearly demarcated functional complex that can best be described as a ‘personality.’”
I’m tired of tryna to be normal
I’m always overthinkin’
I’m drivin’ myself crazy
So what if I’m fucking crazy?
And I don’t need your quick fix
I don’t want your prescriptions
Just ‘cause you say I’m crazy
So what if I’m fucking crazy?
“Freud called it the id, the super-ego, and the ego. The instinctual desires, the critical and moralizing judge, and the organized, realistic agent that mediates between the two. Some of my kind might call these the Beast and the Man, and perhaps that’s enough for them. But I’ve always thought there was more going on up there: the Beauty, the Beast, the Bitch, and the Innocent.”
“Who are you?” It’s a valid question, an easy question for most people to answer. Talk about your family, your career, your lover, your life goals, your history, your desires, your faith, your skills. What makes you you? If you ever lose sight of that it’s as easy as looking into the mirror to catch sight of your face. A familiar face; it’s been with you since birth.
But what if you can’t?
What if you look into a mirror and see a new person every time you blink?
What if your psyche is so damaged and fragmented that you have no idea who you are anymore?
What if you spent so long hiding behind masks and pretending to be someone you’re not and trying to be everything to everyone that you’ve pulled yourself in a dozen different directions and something finally cracked?
What if you’re broken?
What if your psyche splintered…
and now you’re never alone?
She is the epitome of the word beauty. She is a divine goddess reminiscent of Aphrodite herself, otherworldly in appearance. She wears full glamour: hair, makeup, clothing. Every inch of her is painted, sculpted perfection, from the shade of her foundation to the wing of her eyeliner to the fresh coat of polish on her nails. Her dark hair loosely curls down her back, and she smiles with dark eyes framed by darker lashes before whatever amusement caught her fancy ever touches her lips. It’s a soft smile, a gentle curving of her lips that invites secrets and suggests a new confidant.
Celia is the girl. Celia is the nineteen-year-old who died in April, 2009 when Donovan drained the blood from her body and dropped her into the Gulf of Mexico. Celia went into the hellscape of his mind and was never the same when she came back out. She’s the girl who wants to maintain a relationship with her family, her boyfriend, and her friends. She’s the one who dons the masks, the one who bends and twists and portions off further slivers of her soul to get what she wants and needs.
Slippery, elusive, effervescent and ever-changing. Her personality shifts as it needs to, fitting in with kine and Kindred, friend and enemy, sire and grandsire.
Celia bends so she does not break.
Her story started with a wish.
High cheekbones. Winged eyeliner sharp enough to cut a man. Sculpted, polished perfection, a marble statue that belongs in every art museum that has ever existed; the sort of ethereal, flawless charm that draws moths to her oh-so-beautiful flame. She burns hotter and brighter than the others like her. Tightly wound, always in control. Her smile hides the knife, her honeyed tongue delivers the poison.
Jade is the childe of the harpy. Cold, cruel, conniving. Jade is what came back out of the hellscape in Celia’s sire’s mind when he was done with her. Jade was born out of necessity; Jade was born Kindred. She doesn’t know what it’s like to be mortal, to breathe, to love. The concept is foreign to her. She has no father and does not hear the whisper in her mind that so troubles Celia. Jade is the murderer, the unrepentant sinner, derisive and mocking. Jade breaks the kine like the disposable little juice-bags that they are.
Her story started with The Wish.
It’s Jade, but it isn’t. Celia, but softer. Celia if Ron hadn’t raped her mother. Celia if Maxen had loved her. Celia if she hadn’t been abused, belittled, and humiliated. A rounder face, to match her father’s. Lighter hair, to match her mother’s. Hazel eyes, at once the color of the sky and sea, the only part of her that tells the truth. Tapered nose, dainty lips, a mouth that’s made for kissing. Beautiful, like Celia. But not devastating, like Jade. Not hardened by years of fear and anxiety. An open expression, earnest rather than beguiling. An innocence that she has not had since that night she made a wish.
She doesn’t need to try to find that piece of soul he wants to capture. It’s in her smile, in her laugh, in the delicate arch of her brows and long, silken lashes. It’s in the shy way she lifts her shoulder, the soft lilt of her voice, the baby pink she wears on her toes and nails. It’s in the black band that holds the hair back from her face, the long, straight hair that she doesn’t have to fight with every morning.
Young. Nubile. As perfect as her other masks. Just softer.
Daddy’s little girl.
To hear her tell it, Leilani has always existed. She has been the foil to the Beast’s rage, the girl that holds no anger of her own. Soft and sweet, demure and chaste, she’s every princess, baby, and daddy’s little girl that has ever existed. Shy and submissive, she has only been coaxed to come out to play once by Josua Cambridge; to date he is the only person who knows that she exists, though whether he understands what she is or the significance of her appearance remains to be seen. She has a fondness for dolls, mermaids, and bubbles.
Her beauty is
Like a dark
from their dens.
her home and
scratch at her door
until she brings
them inside and