Lillian didn't mind becoming a Vampire. After all, she never had a life to begin with; so there was nothing to miss.
Lillian was born and raised in New Orleans. As a child, she would find joy in feeding pigeons and going to the zoo. In high school, she planned on going to college to be a Veterinarian. If she couldn’t handle keeping up the grades, she’d settle for being a Zookeeper. Lilly spent most of her after-school time and summers at city park; taking pictures, walking her dog, geocaching, and “people watching”. She was always, generally, a recluse. On many occasions, Lillian would walk the streets of New Orleans, just to get lost and find her way back home. Yet, Lillian never went out at night. Her mother forbade this; saying simply it wasn’t safe. Lillian became gradually more curious about the matter. Although she lived in a lush New Orleans mansion, the home began to feel like a cage over time.
So, one night, she told her mother she was going to the Prytania with some of her friends. Her mother hesitated, but allowed it. Instead, Lilly went to Bourbon with some girls she sort of knew from school. The lights were memorizing, and the drunkards were a hilarious sight to see. Lillian had her first hard liquor, but it wasn’t nearly as good as she thought it would be. As for the fruity drinks? Far too much sugar for her taste. To Lillian, the “partying” experience wasn’t nearly what it had been hyped up to be. So, she decided to go for a walk on her own.
Past the rambunctious bars of Bourbon she made her way deeper down the streets. Through the darkness, someone called her name. It was an old homeless-looking man with a pigeon perched on his shoulder. Lilly assumed she somehow knew the man.
The old man did not speak. He looked as if he wanted too, but something was holding him back. He appeared next to Lilly, and proceeded to embrace her. Lillian awoke surrounded by dead hookers.
My sire explained to me ”…The humans that fall from grace are the ones who are fair game to be picked off. They are crumbs. Scraps. The waste of humanity.”
He never really explained why he embraced me. He never seemed to want to say. All I remember is rough training. I mean….I had always wanted to take martial arts…but not a brutal crash course! He was all like “Hey. Get up. I need to show you something.” And then POW! He scratched me across the face! He was all like “Now imagine that but 10 times deeper. Block it.” Stuff like that.
I’m pretty much the messenger/spy/go-fer of the clan. They don’t trust me to do any of the dirty work. I mean…I don’t BLAME them…I was trained by a crazy pigeon man that could almost pass off Malcavian…and I was mostly taught how to DEFEND myself. I guess that might be part of the reason I was embraced; I probably wouldn’t have survived that night on Bourbon. Though why I was “saved” is a mystery to me. I was so confident in my scene of direction from daytime experiences…it didn’t cross my mind ONCE I might be attacked or raped at night. I was only taught night time = bad. Never why. Ironically, I’M now the “bad” thing mother would be afraid of. I kinda miss her. But seeing her now…she’d think I was some kind of crack whore. Pale, skinny, and “oh hey, is that blood?”.
Oh. And that pigeon on the man’s shoulder? He’s the one that told the man who I was. Apparently, generations of pigeons…and ducks…and squirrels….passed on the legend of “Lilly: The One Who Brings Food”. Cute? Yes. Lame? A little. But I love em’. Now I’m like….a freakin’ GOD to them. It’s fun. At least THEY respect me. …::sigh::