Cassie Character Sheet (Patreon)

LONG POST!! THIS TOOK ME ALL DAY AAAAA

Name: Cassandra “Cassie” Arvay

Species: Lachrymal vampire

Age: 114 (appears 26)

Birthday: October 8th, 1906

Height: 5’ 10”

Weight: 132

Shoe size: 10

Personality:

Her vampirism born during a period of social and personal rebellion, Cassie remains wild at heart, with her thirst for the new and exciting untouched by the passage of time. She loves meeting people and makes friends easily, both worldly and supernatural. Social butterfly and obligatory night owl, it’s easy to find her frequenting her favorite venues and haunts as well as enjoying her herself at home with a new book, movie, or plaything.

Regarding herself:

Easygoing

Astute

Indulgent

Regarding others:

Attentive

Playful

Receptive

Regarding the world:

Inquisitive

Savvy

Resourceful

Quirks:

* Her bangs are often even more expressive than she is. A look at how they curl can give a good read on her emotions.

* Incredibly skilled at using her voice; she’s been singing for the better part of a century.

* Falls in love very easily, though breaking the habit of drifting away just as quickly is still a work in progress.

* Gets stupidly excited over shared interests, particularly in books and movies.

Sub-species Traits:

* Subsists on the fluids of her prey. Tears are a favorite, providing the most nourishment, followed by sexual fluids, sweat, and then saliva. A good primary feeding can last her up to two weeks.

* Can stand up to an hour or two of morning/evening light when the sun is as its weakest, depending on the season and cloud-cover.

* Perfect vision in the dark.

* Accelerated healing, but may need longer periods of sleep for larger degrees of damage.

* Slightly enhanced strength on average, just enough for it to be surprising. Roughly twice as strong for a day or two after feeding.

* Form of! : giant fucking moth.

* Can eat and drink to supplement her primary food source, but only in small amounts. 

* Can exercise extreme intuitive focus to attune herself to others’ emotions. She makes ample use of this during courtship and feeding.

Biography:

Born in Albany to second-generation Hungarian immigrants, Cassandra Arvay wanted for little. Though definitely in the lower rungs of the upper class, her family nonetheless enjoyed a lavish lifestyle afforded by her grandparents’ personal investments and involvements in various Vanderbilt railroad projects. Though she enjoyed the glitz and glamour of the soirees and events she attended with her parents, she found herself growing listless at home. With little to do but engage with her tutors and prepare for the auctioning off to potential suitors, it came as no surprise that when the flapper craze hit, Cassandra set her sights on spreading her wings. Catching a train to the Big Apple at the age of 16, she found employment quickly for her natural beauty and singing voice in various speakeasies and lounges. She bounced from one joint to the next, enjoying stints at places like Chumley’s and Connie’s Inn.

The turbulence of her youth was formative in her turning. From dodging between New York’s slums and back streets to staying with suitors and lovers in comfortable units on Fifth Avenue, Cassandra, called Cassie by her circles, developed a deep taste for life and adventure. Often her more lucrative adventures were cut short by police raids and mob hits, only for her to take it as an opportunity to land her next gig. Hustling, partying, and always honing her voice, her most successful exploits were with the rising gangsters of the mid-1920s. And amid her rising paychecks and rising highs, she had her first brush with the supernatural. It was in one of Lucky Luciano’s blind tigers that she chanced on her future sire.

The woman was tall, elegant, and though she clung to the high-ranking mobster’s arm like a trophy, it was her presence that commanded the room. Cassie’s rebellion involved a few brief trysts with the same sex, playful romances as fleeting as her time with any man she’d courted for his status and finances, but there was little that could have prepared her for how this woman made her feel. She came to watch Cassie at every show, her crystal blue eyes absolutely electric in the dim joint’s lighting. She cornered the singer in the lounge with stories, drinks, and teasing affections that made the young lady laugh harder and blush redder than she had ever before. It was not long before the two were an item, an open secret that no one dared bring up to her husband, even well into their cups.

After a year of dating, however, Cassie could no longer help her questions. Though both kept a nocturnal schedule anyway, she found she could never get in touch with her lover during the day. When they went out for evening meals, Cassie never saw her lover take more than a bite or two of the extravagant dishes. When they shared their privacy together, Cassie could do little to resist her lover’s playful tickling and humor, but when brought to the point of delighted tears, she couldn’t help but wonder if there was something especially hungry about the way the woman kissed them away.

There was a lot to wonder about the mysterious woman, so, one day, Cassie just asked. “What are you?” The question escaped her lips after a particularly piercing orgasm. Her lover lifted her head from between Cassie’s legs and smiled. Really smiled. Cassie saw the teeth in the smile bigger and warmer than any she had ever seen her lover wear and was jarred out of her stupor.

“Do you want to know?” she asked.

Cassie’s mind was racing. She had read her Stoker. She had read her Marryat. She had <i>adored</i> her Le Fanu. And while her thoughts were occupied, her heart spoke in their stead: 

“Yes.”

They spoke, briefly. Cassie surprised herself with how few questions she actually had. Her lover turned her that same night. 

A lachrymal ritual is far different from a sanguineous one. There was no biting, no bloodshed. The woman simply straddled her lover as she often had countless nights before, and brought her face low to Cassie’s lipstick-smeared mouth. They kissed—long and intense, and Cassie felt moisture on her cheeks. The woman was weeping. Heavy tears dropped onto Cassie’s face, almost burning in their warmth. She tasted them in their kiss, and felt them blind her own vision when the woman opened her eyes. That smile, bittersweet in its finality, was the last thing she saw before the darkness took her.

Cassie awoke several days later. The speakeasy was absolutely trashed. She learned that the mobster was gunned down by Luciano himself for collaborating with the authorities. His wife was nowhere to be found. 

Though much happened between then and now, Cassie came to grips with her condition and enjoys living her life much like she did during the Roaring Twenties. She continues to explore New York’s nightlife as she has over the decades, and finds fulfillment in the moment, whether at the conclusion of a soulful song or at the taste of a lover’s wild laughter.

Preferences:

In the open:

Pursuing people is something of a hobby and a fascination to Cassie. Layer by layer, she loves getting to know her friends and lovers, and she rarely keeps her vampirism a secret when she gets close enough. Though she loves nesting at home, she much prefers the company of others, often heading out to haunts and hangouts or inviting friends back for a quiet (or not) night in.

In the bedroom:

Cassie’s tickle fetish is nigh insatiable. Though her sire’s was considerably tamer in ritual and results, Cassie finds the tears produced by her playthings’ mirthful desperation utterly irresistible. She operates almost entirely on a model of established consent and adores pushing her lovers to the limit. With her highly sensitive intuition, she stays attuned to her partner’s state, taking special cares when safewords don’t factor into the equation, and she typically adjusts to suit her lovers’ needs and tastes. Despite her particularly intense brand of sexual cruelty, she has no shortage of women coming back for more, and her regular rotation keeps her plenty busy. 

Bleh bleh-bleh:

- Has a bit of a sweet tooth

- She regularly dances and sings at a paranatural speakeasy called the Black Clover, situated in the Baobh Burl Bazaar, Betwixt in Plymouth Massachusetts and maintained by those nostalgic for the sights and sounds of the Roaring Twenties. 

- Raises fireflies in her garden.

- Keeps extensive alerts and alarms for events, as she tends to be forgetful.

- Struggles with languages. Is halfway through relearning Hungarian and a quarter of the way through learning French. Learning through singing helps, but it’s been a few years.

- Will watch the absolute fuck out of a horror movie. How bad it is just changes the experience up.