Difference between revisions of "Maureen O'Leery"
| Line 13: | Line 13: | ||
'''Behavior:''' Maureen comes on sweet, the sad little-old-lady from down the street, someone's ancient spinster aunt looking for just an ounce of attention and a pitch of affection. But there is more of arsenic and old lace to Maureen, than sugar and spice. Like a spider she crouches in her wheelchair, leading others on in thinking she is just a crippled old lady, drawing them in closer and closer, until its too late. Maureen further disarms her victims with intelligent, witty repartee and silken compliments, but as the conversation continues her dementia begins to surface. After several minutes of pleasant chit-chat she starts to look over her shoulder and make paranoid statements. Once her paranoia fully manifests, her speech becomes slurred and even her most intelligible dialogue begins to meander, filled with steadily darker implications. At this stage, if the other conversationalists haven't ended the discussion and excused themselves, she abruptly ceases to speak and wheels herself away. | '''Behavior:''' Maureen comes on sweet, the sad little-old-lady from down the street, someone's ancient spinster aunt looking for just an ounce of attention and a pitch of affection. But there is more of arsenic and old lace to Maureen, than sugar and spice. Like a spider she crouches in her wheelchair, leading others on in thinking she is just a crippled old lady, drawing them in closer and closer, until its too late. Maureen further disarms her victims with intelligent, witty repartee and silken compliments, but as the conversation continues her dementia begins to surface. After several minutes of pleasant chit-chat she starts to look over her shoulder and make paranoid statements. Once her paranoia fully manifests, her speech becomes slurred and even her most intelligible dialogue begins to meander, filled with steadily darker implications. At this stage, if the other conversationalists haven't ended the discussion and excused themselves, she abruptly ceases to speak and wheels herself away. | ||
| − | '''History:''' Everything about Boston in the early 1800s terrified Maureen as she grew up in the shadow of its colonial monuments. | + | '''History:''' Everything about Boston in the early 1800s terrified Maureen as she grew up in the shadow of its colonial monuments. The looming buildings peered down on her as she walked, the streets talked about her as she passed and the strangers, oh the strangers, were all vile devils seeking to ripe her soul from her body. Even her rich family despised her and shut her away in terrifying mental institutions created for the sole purpose of tormenting her. |
'''Recent Events:''' | '''Recent Events:''' | ||
* -- '''[[Maureen O'Leery's Statistics]]''' | * -- '''[[Maureen O'Leery's Statistics]]''' | ||
Revision as of 19:48, 4 October 2016
- Chicago -ChiTown- Chicago Malkavians
Sobriquet: Maureen
Appearance: A sixty year old Caucasian lady, with silver-white hair and eyes of the palest green. Maureen seems so small, all bent over in her wheelchair, a wisp of a woman with skin like parchment paper. Her angular face bears wrinkles of wisdom and hardship, far more of the latter than anyone living knows, in truth. Maureen's mouth bears the distinct pucker of one who has lost all of her teeth prematurely, although she often wears dentures to fill out her face and interact better with mortals. However, don't be fooled, she is Kindred and has a beautiful pair of fangs in an otherwise toothless maw.
Those who look upon Maureen, often overlook the feverish glitter in the back of her jade colored eyes and live to regret it...
Being a whithered flower of the Victorian period, she wears dresses with petticoats, lace and ribbons, and a hem that reveals nothing but the ankles. Maureen wears good stout leather shoes and hand knitted stockings beneath her hand-me-down antebellum dresses, with garters and a good tight corset to remind others that she is a lady. She wears her silver-white hair up in a good tight bun and perfumes herself with attar-of-roses. Around her wrinkled throat she wears a locket of antique silver strung on either dainty fresh water pearls or green Aventurine beads that match her eyes.
Behavior: Maureen comes on sweet, the sad little-old-lady from down the street, someone's ancient spinster aunt looking for just an ounce of attention and a pitch of affection. But there is more of arsenic and old lace to Maureen, than sugar and spice. Like a spider she crouches in her wheelchair, leading others on in thinking she is just a crippled old lady, drawing them in closer and closer, until its too late. Maureen further disarms her victims with intelligent, witty repartee and silken compliments, but as the conversation continues her dementia begins to surface. After several minutes of pleasant chit-chat she starts to look over her shoulder and make paranoid statements. Once her paranoia fully manifests, her speech becomes slurred and even her most intelligible dialogue begins to meander, filled with steadily darker implications. At this stage, if the other conversationalists haven't ended the discussion and excused themselves, she abruptly ceases to speak and wheels herself away.
History: Everything about Boston in the early 1800s terrified Maureen as she grew up in the shadow of its colonial monuments. The looming buildings peered down on her as she walked, the streets talked about her as she passed and the strangers, oh the strangers, were all vile devils seeking to ripe her soul from her body. Even her rich family despised her and shut her away in terrifying mental institutions created for the sole purpose of tormenting her.
Recent Events:
