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Marcel, a character played by Micah

Back Story

I was raised by my mother and grandmother. Both were Voodoo Queens. I followed a similar path, though being male, I clearly couldn’t be a daughter of Marie Laveau. My grandmother claimed to have the anointment of Marie Laveau’s spirit, which considering her personality, I don’t doubt. I still wonder if Marie Laveau was a vampire? Since I can’t get much of an answer on that from the others of the Circle, I assume there is something of interest there. I learned a great deal from these two. I miss them, but I don’t want to hurt them with a truth that both confirms and destroys everything that they know.

I never knew my father. While I know children like to invent wild stories about their missing parents, I never did. I knew why he left. He was afraid. I know fear is a fundamental. No matter the bravado, even the strongest vampire is afraid, of something, of anything right at the edge of things. I know this.

I also know that not everything works as prescribed whether by doctor or voudoun. I opened a small trinket shop selling charms, amulets, and magical powders guaranteed to cure what ails you, grant your most selfish wish, and keep an enemy in line. I was a practicing hougan. I sold hog bristles charms and bits of ouncongo snake and Voodoo dolls to the tourists, along with advice, borrowed from my grandmother. I did a pretty good business mostly since I respected my clients enough not to always lie to them. Why should I treat them poorly? They were just trying to find a way to deal with the fears of life: losing family and lovers, failing, dying. They were honest enough to be desperate. I had to sell my shop after the change. Day-time business is a key to all except drug dealers. I still do private consultations though.

Blood has power. We all know this on some level. It comes from our ancestors, but it also comes from how we spend our lives. The disease of drug addiction weakens the soul, poisoning the blood. We’ve all seen it. On the other hand, we know the richness of a blood beating through a heart fueled by love. It feels good to be in love. I was in love for a bit.

We were very different. Teresa. She was a cop, a practicing Baptist, and a pragmatist. I was a hougan openly practicing voudou, only going to church to socialize, and probably a dreamer. I miss that. We had a lot of fun. I always love a woman who is as much fun to argue with as sleep with. Had I never met Baron Cimitere, I probably would have asked her to marry me.

The Baron was a big name in voudoun circles. If you got a change to talk to him, you were in. You were the elite. His “family” knew Marie Laveau generations ago. His “family” had been there at the start. At least that much was a lie, but his influence wasn’t. So I went to a few of his gatherings. They were pretty blood affairs, but New Orleans voudou has always been pretty bloody.

What really sucks is that I never got that close to the Baron. I wasn’t one of his ghouls. He may have known my name, but he knew everyone, or seemed to. It is called charisma. He has it. Most bloodsuckers don’t. He didn’t turn me.

Sadly, for every Cruac spell’s real power, there are a hundred voudou beliefs that don’t work. If you lay a broom across the doorway at night, a witch can still come in and hurt you. I was dragged out of my bed. The Invictus Ventrue who changed me thought he could use me against Cimitere and earn himself the favor of the Prince. There is an uneasy truce between the Circle and the Lancea Sanctum. I still say it is because Marie Laveau was a good Christian on Sundays. The Circle always pretended well in New Orleans.

I’m still not sure of the favors the Baron used to protect me. I do know that he didn’t know what to do with me. Trust between vampires is never an easy thing. I will have to earn my place in the Circle. I will have to start over. Everyone I cared about thinks I am dead.

So now I have a lot of time. I refuse to use this time to be afraid. I’ve seen the failures of human and vampire the last few years in this city, but I still think I can make a difference.

Journal Entries

Session 1

Who is turning my picture upside down? I have a devil of a headache. Of course, being shot in the head might be part of that. We don't yet know who these normal humans who attacked us are, why they killed Xander, why they are armed for war. I do know their blood was fresh and filling. There is something about letting the Beast go against prey that thought they were hunters. I always wonder about all the practices and spells concerning human blood when I taste it. What hold will some cutie young thing's blood have on me? What's the old superstition? "If a woman wants her husband to stay away from other woman, she can do so by putting a little of her blood in his coffee, and he will never quit her." Bull. Human blood doesn't have that power. I don't remember half of the women I've drank from. Nor do I suspect I will remember these human killers in time.

I don't mind killing in combat, but I am not sure about a sacrifice. I am torn between human charity and vampire justice, but I don't think I will have a chance to let the poor bastard free, or if I'd even want to. It had been a strange few hours. And I still don't know what that ghoul was skulking around doing?

Session 2

Mason is dead. Since his killer was a vampire and since he apparently has unfinished business in life (who doesn't?), he's still kicking around the park where he died. Poor bastard... To make matters more complicated, the Baron has no idea why his ghoul was off on this errand. I almost wish we knew where that blood from an "elder vampire" of Mason's disappeared to. It would be interesting to see whose blood it actually is...If we had some we could have a little Cruac fun with it.

The big party is coming to town again, and everyone is on edge. With these human mob soldiers still messing with us, I am a little worried that we'll be able to perform our duties.

Session 3

So the Sheriff goes missing, and of course, the Circle gets blamed. It is problematic to be a scapegoat since it seems someone wants an excuse to mess with the Circle. Of course, a major member of our group listens to rumors and the wind better then the rest of us and know that Belial's Brood is involved. I don't question wise men saying wise things. I just act on their advice. He was right. We found the Brood, but we hesitated killing them ourselves being as they were insane violent anarchists and we weren't. We tried to get the Sanctum involved, but they were their usual bickering selves, so we had to shoot up the Brood that survived. It looks like we did good work.

Session 4

I talked to one of the Brood we captured. Turns out, my sire was the one messing with us. I certainly hope his bad blood doesn't run through my veins. Of course, we didn't have time to look into this before the Prince calls everyone in to kill some insane elder freak. Of course, it all gets problematic rather quickly with rivalry and brutality. I hate the idiot children of the Sanctum. "Let's start a fight while the giant bird elder eats us!" We lost a ghoul in the fight sadly, but one of us got the prize. We also got another nod from the Prince. Rather stay on his good side even if our loyalties and practices are elsewhere. Oh, and the blood is talking fine to me. The Blood Hunt