Bethany Ruth

Background: Beth does not remember her last name, or her birthplace, or her birth date. She does remember, though, that she was born in a southern state, and that she was embraced at a time spiritualism and ghost-channeling were big, oh yes, she will have a hard time forgetting that. As a young girl, she'd been destined to be a good and quiet housewife. Of all the places that could possibly bring her a bad influence, however, it is her church that was her downfall. Dragged there by her parents like all good children, she'd noticed her fellow churchgoers had many superstitions that didn't match their faith. She took it as an opportunity to take advantage of their hypocrisy and started selling good luck charms, then organized praying sessions for the passage of ghosts to the other side, but that wasn't enough. Soon, with her younger brothers as accomplices, she organized bigger scams where she would "channel" the ghosts inhabiting the home of her clients, with said accomplices causing special effects of all kinds. When a sucker would wish to talk with the deceased, it only required a little research and psychology to trick them. By the time she reached her mid-30's, she had escaped her parents' clutch and accumulated a small fortune, thanks to her dishonest work. Every single person she'd scammed, she thought, fully deserved it, especially the Christians who dared believe in the pagan blasphemies their faith never supported.

That was when, during a travel in a neighboring state, she heard about an old manor, rumored to be haunted, and avoided by the common populace. This was an unique occasion to organize a large exorcism of the place and gain some well-deserved fame! As always, she began her research, in and out of the crumbling building. But her discoveries involved the pale employees of the place. Traces of rituals. Blood. The lack of actual power of the owner of the manor. Who was, in fact, pulling the strings behind him? Truth be told, Beth was, at that time, about to conclude the inhabitants were "simply" cultist nutcases. But the coterie controlling the ghouls of the manor feared that mortal was about to breach the Masquerade, and their Nosferatu embraced her. He could have simply killed her, and none would have been the wiser. But he genuinely thought she had the potential to overcome the curse of his clan, in some way. The irony was that if any other member of his coterie had embraced her and left her appearance mostly unchanged, she might have evolved very differently. Being a Baddacelli, her sire never even knew to what extend he disfigured her.

As soon as the neonate found out what she had become, she immediately decided to let go of her old, obsolete human habits. She'd just been damned to be something dead and predatory, why else would she look the part? Her sire tried to explain she still had the Man inside and that she could still feel, but it was no use, she was intimately convinced that, despite evidence of the contrary, she'd become a cold, heartless monster. And she was fine with that. He brought her to the Lancea Sanctum, feeling that the covenant would either break her and erase all traces of his mistake, either it would help her realize herself fully as a creature of the night. At first, it seemed to be the former; there were too many changes, too fast, all at once. The politics, the faith, the frenzies, the new needs, the weaknesses... She entered a Torpor that was way too long for her blood potency, and slept through one, maybe two human wars involving the USA (but which ones, they all seemed so distant even when she was alive, anyway?). But when she woke up during the 60's, everything was much clearer in her mind. There's nothing a long night's sleep can't fix.

Since then, for decades, Beth has acted as a convenient grunt for her covenant, doing the vulgar or stealthy tasks that a ghoul couldn't achieve, and work on her role as a predator of humanity the rest of the time... and staying torpid during particularly demanding times, limiting her growth. She's had no contact with her mysterious sire since, who might not even know she's still walking among the Damned. Her covenant in Alabama started a campaign to spread the faith in neighbouring states, in reaction to the Blizzard and expectations of a larger-scale Judgment Day. Or at least, that was the official explanation. Beth got promoted as an Inquisitor and sent to Atlanta, along with a fellow priest who, somehow, doesn't appear to have arrived... yet. No big deal. It just meant that she'd have much more freedom of movement without constant supervision from the Lancea Sanctum, and she could explore her new role better. Maybe even discover a new ritual, in that place struck by the Lord. Amusingly, when she arrived, she saw, in a vault in a cemetery near a big church, her new haven. There's no room for anything but her and a box of personal belongings (scarily enough for mortals, the vault was empty when she found it), but it's relatively safe, and it's near one of her favorite kind of hunting location.

Personality: Beth defines herself as a Damned first and foremost, an undead monster preying on humanity, not just because of her abilities, but because of her appearance. She attributes a lot of importance to appearances, and can't help but consider other clans are imperfect, in that they still look too human, and therefore, act too human. Feeding on animals often proves to be necessary and easier, but she hates it. Sheep eat grass and wolves eat lambs, and wolves should not do the aberration of eating the prey of their prey. And yet, despite her desire to fit the role she's been given, she's not as monstrous as she thinks. In that way, she's like a goth teenager, lamenting the darkness of his soul when the worse he's ever done was kick his cat. As a predator, Beth is somewhat humane. She's not sadistic and doesn't hurt people more than is strictly necessary. Her Man is still there, and the Beast kept on a shorter leash than she believes. While she is completely indifferent to human matters, considering herself to be completely disconnected from them today, she more readily communicates with Kindred, even if to tell them there's no sense for them to maintain their travesty of humanity. In the end, she is most satisfied lurking in the darkness, assaulting lone people by surprise or tricking them with the facade of a helpless old woman, and scaring away the others... but she won't recognizes she feels any pleasure in unlife beside the very act of sucking one's blood.

Appearance: Bethany has shoulder-length pale blond hair. She's slim, and her skin looks like that of a freshly-deceased zombie. Her eyes have a bloody sclera, and dark brown irises. The Blush of Life does little to make her easier on the eye; it only recolors her skin to the point of looking like the blemished skin of an old woman, and her eyes don't look completely healthy, either. She always wears black dresses in a style that fit better widows or grandmothers, along with a veil that only conceals part of her face, unless she's willing to sacrifice some sight for a more dramatic effect.

Nosferatu curse: some Nosferatu simply bring a disturbing aura along with their presence but otherwise appear normal... well, not Beth, who, unfortunate among the unfortunate, is just plain disturbing to look at.

Sheet:Bethany Ruth