Georgie Chimere

Character Information

Name: Georgie Chimere

Sire: Nico Giordano Infamous Sire - Please see "Infamous - IC Info"

Clan: Malkavian | Status: 4 - Madman

Sect: Camarilla | Status: 6 Esteemed, Exalted, Influential, Well-Connected, Well-Known Flawed, Infamous, Unstable Sect Titles: Harpy

Vitals: Apparent Age: Mid-30s Appearance Rating: 3 Charisma Rating: 4 Specialty: Enigmatic Expression Rating: 4 Specialty: Articulate Leadership Rating: 1 Presence Rating: 2 Intimidation Rating: 1 Quirks: Blush of Health Eat Food Thick French Accent Height: 5'6" Hair Color: Brown Eye Color: Blue

Quote: That's the best revenge of all: happiness. Nothing drives people crazier than seeing someone have a good fucking life. - Chuck Palahniuk

Character Theme: Black Sheep - Clash at the Demonhead version

It all started with a punch in the face...

Georgie laughed, rolling her shoulders back as she took another sip of her coffee. “At a dinner party, actually. And I hated him.”

The older woman laughed as well, causing her attending stylist to wrinkle her nose and readjust a few layers of tinfoil holding dye in. “Isn’t that the way the best love stories always start…?”

It was a night in Elysium just as any other night. The dominating youth chatted about the usual things. Per usual, the scene was split between the clans. Patricians on one side tittering away about inane things and the plebians on the other discussing at length passionate plans of molding the world to their whims. Art was always a prominent topic of conversation… or more so how “so and so” had terrible taste.

Georgie had been caught up in a rather heated conversation with a Rose named Vincent Louvain regarding Jackson Pollock and for the first time in the few years she’d been in New Marseille, the Malkavian was expressing a rather prominent opposing opinion. The argument began increasing in volume, the two parties bickering in French about the definition of art or more specifically… how the other person was wrong and an idiot for thinking differently.

They’d begun to attract a crowd of interested parties. Of course, their interest was less in the topic and more in the fact that it appeared two enemies were about to be born. An ambassador from each clan present in Elysium that night began making their way closer to listen in as the hints of the Beast reared its head in the opposing Rose and Lunatic. Both were now standing, bellowing across the table at one another.

The crowd shifted slightly as one of the Ventrue made his way to the front of the group of onlookers and with his best shit-eating grin he stated succinctly above the bellowing, “I actually think Hans Hofmann is far superior to Pollack anyway.”

The room grew silent and both Georgie and Vincent slowly turned their heads toward the intruder into their argument. The Ventrue glanced briefly to Vincent then looked back to Georgie, extending his hand toward her. “Allen Ward, Clan Ventrue.”

Her bright eyes flicked down to the extended hand then back up to that shit eating grin of his face and you could feel the tangible weight of conflict in the room. She lifted her hand as well, but not in offer… and before anyone could do anything to intervene, Georgie Chimere’s fist cracked against Allen Ward’s jaw.

She was banned from Elysium for two months…

Tiger Lilies

“You slapped him?” The older woman nearly guffawed as Georgie nodded with a similar laugh. The pair had begun to draw a crowd as was common in the hen house of a salon. “So, what happened? How did he redeem himself?”

Georgie’s lips curled into a small, coy smile. “He bought me tiger lilies.”

Four months had gone by since Georgie Chimere and Allen Ward had met. She was still bitter over the whole event in Elysium, so when he showed up at La Rose Puante with a bouquet of tiger lilies… she pretended he didn’t even exist.

He followed her around for an hour and a half as she served tables in the little coffee shop on Rue Vien before she finally actually looked at him. “Why are you here?”

“I thought I’d come brighten your day… these are your favorite, aren’t they?” Allen replied as he dodged patrons to remain in pursuit of her as she set some pastries down for a couple. She would walk around him back toward the counter.

“Non.” She lied, more than a little disturbed by the fact that he had somehow found out her favorite flower.

“Oh.” He looked down to the brilliant hue of the bouquet in his hands then back up to her as she darted between waitresses behind the counter. “Then what are your favorite flowers?”

“None of your business.” She replied flatly, though some of the waitresses had begun eavesdropping and chuckling softly.

“I am not going to apologize to you.” He said as he chased her along, the counter remaining a barrier between them.

“And I am not going to apologize to you.” She retorted, pausing to futz with the register and Allen was given the opportunity to lay the bouquet beside her before he turned for the door. Georgie glanced down to the bouquet then to the Ventrue retreating through the crowd.

For a few moments she would ignore the flowers, entering in bill prices before her eyes were drawn again to the brightly colored bouquet. She glanced around to see if any of the other waitresses were watching before she tentatively reached for the bouquet and snuck them into the back room to find a vase.

London, Murder and 'I Love You'

“A few more visits were made to the Rose before I finally started acknowledging his existence.” She continued to the small crowd of women who were now huddled around the old matron and Georgie in the salon. “We started small at first… I’d insult his tie and he’d tell me my shoes looked they’d been bought at a flea market. Before I even knew it we were spending hours talking about nothing and it didn’t even matter.” She leaned back in her chair taking another sip of her coffee. “We’d become friends. We even had a special night. Every Thursday we would meet and just spend the evening talking.”

There were a few ‘aws’ heard amidst the younger girls listening in and some chuckles from the older women. The matron spoke again, “But when was the moment you knew?”

Georgie set her coffee aside, sitting up a little in her chair. “When he took me to London.”

It was the first time Georgie Chimere had truly felt betrayal since her breathing days, and yet she had no idea who had actually betrayed her.

She had left Allen in London to return to Paris. She had to tell Nico once and for all it was over and that she didn’t belong to him anymore. It had to be done in person. Yet, she never even had the chance to see her sire.

Allen’s phone rang and there was a panicked Georgie on the end of the line, “Adel, they told me I killed someone and now they want to kill me and I don't know what happened!” He could hear her tears, hysterical as she spoke.

He inhaled a breath, forcing confusion into his voice even though he knew rather well what the story was. “Wait, what? Wh-you? Killed what?”

“I don't even know who I killed! It was one of the Prince's I think. I don't know why he would be so mad?! I tried to go talk to him, but Donovan and Nico said it would be bad and Marie said they might call a blood hunt and I don't know what to do! How did I kill someone in Paris if I was in London!?” She sobbed.

Allen did his best to calm her down, convincing her to have her driver drop her off near the Royal Gardens. When she’d left him, she’d been perfectly groomed. Every curl in the right place and every seam perfectly aligned… but now she was an utter mess.

"Come on, let's get out of public." he said in a firm tone as he stepped out of his car, though the devastation shined clearly on his face as he saw her pain along with an unspoken regret. She didn’t move to the car, instead running to thunk against his chest as heavy sobs mixed with bloody tears. He held her to him, glaring at by passers and doing his best to hide the mess of her face against his suit jacket. After a little while, he would usher her into the car.

“I just wanted to see him! Why can't anything ever be simple?!” She sobbed and he reassured her gently as he drove recklessly back toward the flat they had been sharing. Once Allen had gotten her back inside to safety he asked what had happened. “I killed someone. But I don't remember doing it. I was told I killed them yesterday. Someone’s retainer… I think V-Villon’s… there’s talk of a blood hunt!”

He patiently asked her questions, clarifying what she knew, who she’d spoken with, if she’d managed to see Nico. Soon they were back at the flat and he was on the phone yelling in German and politely bargaining in French as Georgie sat under the running water of the shower. She stared at nothing. The cold reality of never seeing Paris again sinking in. If she only knew what she’d done… at least she’d know she deserved such a fate. Allen told her to ‘have faith’ as he prepared to leave the flat, but she could barely hear him.

Georgie remained in hiding the next few days as Allen worked to undo the spider web he had constructed. He would return to visit her nightly. On one such visit Georgie said ‘I love you.’ Of course it was the only way she could at the time. She sang to him, soft and sweet.

“If I fell in love with you… would you promise to be true and help me understand? 'Cause I've been in love before... and I found that love was more.."

And then amidst an embrace they shared blood for the third time… before she left him for two years’ time.

And then...?

The women in the salon had all fallen silent. There was no sound of hair dryers or sinks running, every pair of eyes were on Georgie awaiting the next part of the story. Of course, it had been changed for the kine audience in her retelling, but the story points had remained intact. Betrayal, a promise, ‘I love you’ expressed through a Beatles’ song… yet why she left him remained unexplained.

“Well? What happened next?” The matron finally asked.

Georgie just smiled and moved to rise from her chair. “The rest is for another night. If I keep going, your hair is going to turn purple from the dye.” Reality crashed back into the minds of the women at La Rose Puante Salon and everyone bustled back to the work of rinsing and curling as Georgie departed, descending the stairs back to the café.

Infamous - IC Info

Once upon a time, Georgie Chimere was simply infamous by proxy. Her sire, Nico Giordano, was well known in Kindred society as a vicious monster hidden beneath the guise of a charming Italian. Rumors washed courts across the world regarding him. Whether it be breeches of Traditions, assassinations… you name it, the gossiping whispers accused Nico and eyes turned to his childe to follow in her sire’s footsteps. These nights, though, Georgie has gained an infamy all her own. A recently renowned harpy who was unafraid to give detailed accounts of the unrest of New Marseille and its Prince throughout the world. Not to mention her direct involvement with Allen Ward, an equally infamous member of Clan Ventrue. So now Georgie has whispers biting at her heels. Be it allegations of directly manipulating the King in her thrall or further accusations of conspiracy and deceit, Georgie has made a name for herself in the Camarilla. Of course, this infamy more often than not doesn’t work to her benefit…

The Voices of a Life

"Is it some devil inside of you? Or is it just the man?" Allen Ward Ventrue Star-Crossed Lover At the end of each night, every night, there is only you. Someday I will be able to tell you that. Nico Giordano Family Malkavian The Threshold Guardian You're just an appetite and if you stop being greedy you'd die. I have nothing left to give but flesh and bone. Will you take that too? Vincent Louvain Toreador The Unhealed Wound You are as thick as a brick sometimes. I adore you anyway... but stop being such a man. Isobel Williams Family Malkavian The Platonic Ideal If we want something bad enough and dream for it to come true, the world twists to our whims. You are proof of that in my world. Billy Johnson Family Malkavian The Initiate It will be alright. It's going to hurt a lot at first, but it will be alright. Rusty Robinson Gangrel The Underdog Tragedy seems to cling to you, my friend. While we had a rocky start, you've quickly become one of my closest friends. I can't promise that it will be alright. I can't promise anything. You are a living lesson of what can happen when you dance with fire. Annette Cross Ventrue The Innocent I am not certain how to feel. I don't think you are certain either. I still want to like you. I think I do. It's those ethics that get in the way. In a way, I do truly miss seeing you around. Even if I had to force feed you reality then wipe it all away, you still kept your dignity. That's admirable. A trait in you I envy. Jocelyn Wells The Loyal Retainer Don't let the monsters creep too close, my darling. I'd hate to have to fire you. Phillip Eden His Grace Ventrue The Shadow What is there to say of our Prince that hasn't already been heard? Plenty.

Strictly OOC Information - Who We Were, Who We Are, Who We Will Be

"Circular winding round and round and round, it all repeats. We are one with what we were and what we are. There is no will be, we are it. Blind to see what is behind and blind to the present as we can see nothing beyond personal view of reality. Our worlds do not collide and hence we live in ignorance. Doomed to the lonesome toils of self-sighted hierarchy proclaimed to be lost kings." Malkavian: We are the reason you pay Miss Cleo $6.99 a minute. As much as the rest claim we're crazy, they still come a callin' when there's something they don't understand... which happens to be more often than they'd like to admit. Ventrue: For the record, we told you so. Just you wait. The day will come when I'm laughing as your face melts off and the secrets seep at your feet. None of that Dignitas shit will save you. Toreador: Dance like the ballerinas in music boxes, but I know better. Brujah: I wish you were as smart as you are amiable. You know a lot more than you let yourselves know. Gangrel: Something beautiful and in between. I wish I could get angry and then grow a tail. :( Tremere: Stay aw--no. NO. I know you can see it. Even if--- can you really control the weather? Nosferatu: I hope you don't all burn away before you get there. I really like you sometimes. Camarilla: It is adorable the things you do. The towers of sugar built on foundations of sand. You serve us well in our escapades and we will serve you as long as it suits us. Anarchs: Filthy and misguided morons. If there is potential, it is wasted on your idiocy. Maybe we'll have another treaty and your elders will actually tell you about it? Acting high and mighty for freedom. A bunch of children pretending to believe in a false cause and burning whoever happens to be in their path. Sabbat: ...frighteningly alluring in theory. You keep over there and I'll keep to my card house.