Iain MacLaren
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Sobriquet:
Appearance: MacLaren is a short, wiry man with black hair and an enormous Adam's apple. He is a passionate devotee of the double-breasted-suit look, and as an affectation, he still wears the pince-nez glasses from his pre-Embrace days. However, he has adapted well to modem technology, and he never travels without a cellular phone, a laptop computer and other techno-gadgets of the business world.
Behavior: Sorry, you're too busy to talk now, what with what's-his-name from Charlotte coming in to inspect that Yankee student who's gone to Queens and the latest flimflam over the prisons between Driscoll (must remind yourself to keep a closer eye on his drug trafficking - the man's getting unconscionably sloppy) and Olsen (damn him for frightening the tourists again), and in any case, Lucian's late with the most recent payment which was supposed to go to...
History: A successful banker of Scots extraction, MacLaren was plucked from his home in London and tossed willy-nilly into the world of the Kindred by a Ventrue who felt that the clan was decidedly short on people familiar with modern methods of handling money. This was in 1874, and for over a century MacLaren was one of the Ventrue's best investment counselors, targeting industries to manipulate as well those in which it would be wise to invest. In 1979, however, things turned inhospitable for him back home as a result of a few financial missteps, and it was "suggested" that he take some time away. He agreed, crossed the ocean and landed in Kingston. As there was no one there more capable, he assumed the mantle of prince, and has been tap-dancing his way through assorted minefields ever since.
Recent Events:
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