Sullivan

Primogen of Clan Gangrel

Clan: Gangrel Sire: Hildegarde of Lofoten Nature: Confidante Demeanor: Loner Generation: Eighth Embrace: 1405 Apparent Age: Mid 30s Physical: Strength 4, Dexterity 3, Stamina 4 Social: Charisma 5, Manipulation 4, Appearance 4 Mental: Perception 5, Intelligence 4, Wits 4 Talents: Alertness 3, Athletics 3, Brawl 4, Dodge 4, Empathy 3, Expression 3, Intimidation 3, Leadership 3, Masquerade 3, Streetwise 3, Subterfuge 3 Skills: Animal Ken 3, Billiards 4, Etiquette 3, Firearms 2, Gambling 4, Melee 3, Security 1, Survival 4 Knowledges: Academics 1, Gangrel Knowledge 3, Camarilla Lore 4, Investigation 2, Kindred Lore 3, Linguistics 4, Occult 2, Politics 3 *Sullivan speaks Gaelic, English, Norwegian, German, Spanish, French, Russian, Mandarin, and Romanian. Disciplines: Animalism 5, Auspex 2, Celerity 4, Dominate 3, Fortitude 5, Obfuscate 3, Presence 5, Protean 5 Backgrounds: Allies 3, Contacts 3, Fame 1, Herd 1, Influence 2, Resources 1, Retainers 1, Status 4 Virtues: Conscience 3, Self-Control 3, Courage 4 Morality: Humanity 6 Willpower: 10 Backstory: As a young man, Ryan O’Sullivan found that he could not bring himself to stay and help tend to the family farm in County Cork, Ireland for the rest of his life. He packed his meager belongings and left to wander the world over the objections of his parents and siblings. Despite them warning him that he would be back by winter, he waved bye to them and promised to write. At first, the life of a wanderer was rough. But nights of going to sleep on an empty stomach, fist fights, and odd jobs that didn’t pay well only made him tougher and stronger with each passing year. During his travels he was by turns a farm worker, a hunter, a fisherman, a thief, a bouncer, a mercenary, a drinker, a gambler, and a womanizer. And he was happy living life the way he wanted. And if he sinned a little, it was fine. There was always a church and a priest to hear his confessions. His lust for life eventually attracted the attention of inhuman eyes. Sullivan had started to get the nagging feeling that he was being stalked from county to county. He guessed that maybe he had failed to confess some instance of drunken debauchery and that the Devil was on his heels and would soon confront him. But the idea just made him shrug. He figured he would cross that bridge when he came to it. When Hildegarde came for him, he was in a barn taking a bath in an iron wash tub. He stood up from the tub stark naked and smirked at the small blonde Norse woman and asked her if she liked what she saw. Her eyes started to glow an eery red and she informed Sullivan that this was to be his last night alive. He was startled for only a second before he stepped from the tub and grabbed his sword and prepared to fight. Hildegarde’s fingernails turned to claws and she hissed at him. The two circled for a bit before Sullivan swung his sword at her. He hit her shoulder but the blade simply failed to cut through her flesh. Moving with inhumanly supernatural speed and precision, Hildegarde grabbed his wrist with her left hand and twisted it so as to force him to lose his sword. She grabbed him by the throat with a clawed hand and forced him to floor. He struggled as best he could as she straddled him and she had to Dominate him into submission. Once he was docile, she bit his neck and drank all of his blood. She then bit open her wrist and fed Sullivan her own Kindred blood into his mouth, thus Embracing him. She departed quickly before he could stagger back to his feet. Thirsting for more blood, Sullivan made short work of the sheep and chickens on the farm before fleeing the place. Sullivan had to learn things the hard way, like most Gangrel Kindred. Mistakes were made, of course. Some of which involved him being burned by the Sun and almost breaking the Masquerade during a Frenzy that claimed the life of a tavern girl. He had to resume his wandering, watching mortals from the shadows and stealing livestock to drink from. It was three years after Sullivan's Embrace that a Gangrel calling himself Finn Ó Sabháin encountered him and taught him how to be a proper Gangrel. After a decade or so, Sullivan and Many Paths parted ways though they would occasionally encounter each other. He also encountered Hildegarde once more but this time the encounter wasn’t violent. She explained that she Embraced him in response to his wanderlust and independence. He also got to meet Kindred from other Clans and decided that dour Ventrue, lying Tremere, and snobby Toreador weren’t much to his liking and that even the Brujah were best avoided for the most part. When the Camarilla formed, he joined the Sect but only half-heartedly. Sullivan’s wanderings took him around Europe and eventually to Ravenhurst, Connecticut. He grew to like the place and his wanderlust became a little more subdued. He became the reluctant Primogen of the Gangrel Clan by default under Prince Whistler, mainly because he was the oldest of his Clan and nobody really wanted the position. He managed to stay neutral during The Time of Bloody Constraint, much to the chagrin of both sides trying to recruit him. He has had only one Retainer for centuries, a large Ghouled timberwolf named Murphy that he passes off as a husky dog when around humans. Currently, Sullivan stays in the city of Ravenhurst but takes frequent trips outside of it. When in town, he spends time in the Brunswick Hill neighborhood especially the red light section known as Sinners Playground. Sullivan’s age has started to catch up with him, causing him to suffer from ennui. He also worries that a second Time of Bloody Constraint is coming and that he might not be able to sit on the sidelines this time. Image: Sullivan is tall, muscular, and has a classic jawline. He has long brown hair and retains a bit of beard stubble from when he was Embraced. He favors black jeans and leather jackets with a black wide-brimmed hat. However, most of the time he has to Obfuscate more inhuman features from previous Frenzies. In such a state, he has amber eyes with slit pupils, a bony ridge down his back, and a long hairless tail that he usually keeps stuffed down a pantleg. Roleplaying Hints: Most of the time, you act like a cocky loner who doesn’t give a damn what most people think of you. But this isn’t who you really are. You hide from your own boredom and a tinge of sadness. You actually get into talkative moods but you’re picky about who you hold deep conversations with and how often you have them. If somebody talks to you and they start to bore or sound stupid, tell them so and abruptly end the conversation. You don’t have time for fools and long-winded bastards.