Theme Song: No Jesus Christ – Seether
Garren is a heart a traditionalist and he therefore spends his afterlife discontent with whatever society he finds himself in and constantly wishing that things were they way they had been before. These ideals may be unrealistic and unfounded but they make him into a man who is prejudice against anythings that does not fit into the picture of what he views the world should be. As such he is a brash individual who surrounds himself with an air of superiority that both offends and often intimidates those he encounters.
Garrens paranoia drives him to wear a very strict apparel. In public he will always be seen wearing a finely tailored deep burgundy suit that resembles the sophisticated styles of the 1920s. The collar and cuffs of the suit are accented by a blue cord sewn into the outermost edge. A set of dark, burgundy leather gloves are worn with the suit and even on the darkest nights of Pendros, Garren wears a distinct pair of sun glasses that nearly cover a disfiguring scare over his left eye. His posture is authoritative and commanding, and though respectful, he refuses to shake hands or make physical contact with acquaintances.
Garren despises the world he has awakened too. He sees vampires consorting with mutt shape shifters and depraved changlings running around like they are celebrating a never ending festival. Neonate vampires run a muck spreading the despise of the caitiff haphazardly and the Queen is powerless and apathetic to stop them. He believes, with great fervor, that things need to be brought back to the way they were. The werewolves and shape changers need to flee to their own territories or be hunted down like the dogs they are. The changelings need to scurry back into whatever closets they were hiding in or they will find themselves serving as slaves for amusement of new masters now that they fey have been rid of. However he is the most disappointed in the state of the vampire society itself. Vampire childer that would in the old days still be under the lock and key of their sires, already hold important positions in the structure of the underworld society.
He believes that the queen is the source of this poison that has tainted and weakened the most powerful of the species. Vampires should rule the regions they live in through well devised structure. This incompetent ‘leader’ allows vampires to spread like locus with no real repercussions. Now, with the scourge of the Caitiff, the once great society of the Kendred has become a joke. The queen must be removed from he throne; The oldest and wisest of the kindred shall then be brought in and it will be among them that the decisions for our people will be made. The wolves will be driven out, the Caitiff cleansed from the bloodline, and there must be a culling of the numbers of young bastard vampires until the Kendred society has some legitimate structure again.
Virtue : Fortitude
Geren is a stubborn man. It is through this trait that his virtue of Fortitude is most often apparent. Whatever he chooses to believe in, he believes in it with an uncompromising solidity. Over time and experience, his feelings towards something may change, but never at the demand of another. The more he is pushed to give ground the more firm he stands in his ideals. Even in a situation where Geren is forced to speak against what he believes, those words hold no actual weight for himself. His words may conform, but his beliefs and ideals only change when he sees it is fit.
While he may be stubborn, he is certainly not patient. For someone who has lived for so long, and spent many cycles in torpor, he may understand the power of persistence, but he does not often care to wait for it to come to fruition. When a carefully laid out plan comes upon an unexpected obstacle, Garren’s simplest answer is to remove that obstacle by whatever means suits him at the time. He does not take kindly to having his power question or his pride disrespected, and while he may at times have the self control to avoid making foolish decisions, there are many times when he simply gives into his desires. He cares little for the lives of humans, vampires, or anyone who is not strong enough to defend themselves from his wrath.
Motivations: Power, Pride, Survival
In the centuries of Garrens afterlife, his actions have always been driven by a simple urge for power. The rush of pure physical power given to him when he was turned wet his lips, and since that moment his thirst has been unquenchable. He believes that everyone who is not capable of commanding over him should instead serve under him. With such ideals it did not take long before he began to expect a high level of respect from those he encounters. The more power he has received, the more his pride has grown as well. Even in times of strife he has an air of command about him. He commands respect and his pride leads him to believe that he deserves the power he possesses. In the mind of a man who believes power is owed to whomever can take it, survival is equally if not more important than anything else. He is constantly plotting to destroy and obtain the power of anyone who he can, and he assumes that likewise, everyone he meets intends on destroying him. This paranoia has kept him alive despite his tendency to make enemies and it consumes much of his daily rituals. He dresses in cloths laced with protective wards, wears glasses to hide his gaze from everyone he meets. He showers each night to wash away his scent and he preforms rituals to protect himself while he sleeps. His paranoia however is not in vain. It has kept him alive this long.
Flaws: Memory Loss, Technologically Inept, Bigoted
Garren is quite old and has been around for a long time, and in that time he has made a habit of living in short bouts between periods of torpor and it has taken its toll on his sanity. Torpor has a tendency to confuse, convolute, fade, and sometimes even erase memories. Whether it is because of his frequency in visiting a state of torpor, or something entirely different, Garrens memory has suffered greatly. He has difficulties remembering things on a day to day basis and he often confuses things from the past with those from the present. While this may have at one point concerned him, now has now grown to accept it. In fact he has a tendency to become upset with people when they are not already prepared to compensate for his failing memory. Similarly, he puts little effort into trying to keep up with the times. He understands the value of technology, but rarely bothers to learn or understand it, instead expecting others to handle such things for him.
His distortion of the past often leads to a inconsistent view of many social aspects in society. While at one moment he may be seeking the financial or political advice of a woman who is leading a business empire, the next he might be offended that the same woman is not at home minding to the cooking and cleaning instead of interfering with mens work. This bigoted attitude appears in many forms of racism, sexism, and even specisim when dealing with the supernatural society.
Conflicts: Running Tab
As explained above, Garren has spent many years in and out of the active society of the Kindred. He has a knack for regaining the status and power lost between his periods of sleep, but doing often requires a bit of help. It is also probably apparent that Garren’s personality doesn’t often attract favors without a cost. Over his centuries of life, Garren has built up quite a lot of debt, not just financially, but in nearly any other way that one can imagine. As surprising as it may be, Garren honors these debts quite seriously, however his immortality has stripped away any urgency to repay these debts. He fully intends on making things even, eventually, when all more important matters are dealt with. This procrastination in conjunction with his failing memory leaves Garren in the compromised state of assuming that he may own anyone who he runs into in some way or another. If pressured into it, or if it fancies him at the moment, he will do what is necessary to repay any debt that comes up, but more often than not, he instead brushes it aside, adding it to the list of troubles in his life and, more likely than not, frustrating whomever he is dealing with.
It is difficult to discern the truth in any retelling of the past, and because Garren cannot rely on his own memories, his knowledge of his own past is as much of a mystery to himself as it is to most everyone else, in some ways even more so. Very few facts from his past are certain. He was turned some time around the civil war, but his memories of the time are obscure and fragmented. There are scattered images of his family suffering, but he struggles to learn anything real from these waking nightmares.
His paranoia and infrequency of involvement in the kindred community makes it similarly difficult for others to keep track of him. He is known throughout time to arise from torpor, indulge in brutal struggles for power, and then unexpectantly disappear again. He has in the past been appointed the Magistrate for the Tremer Covenant, usually assuming the role after reacquainting himself with the situation following a term in torpor, and then passing the roll off to another before going back into his cycle of rest.
Garren is a brash, cold individual and he does little to hide it. He is formal, and calculated and has little interest or concern in your feeling. He respects only one thing: power. If he respects your power, he will show similar respect for you and a court, and often even polite way. However if he feels you have little to offer, and he does not view you as a threat, he has no problem treating you as such. His strong aura of entitlement is quite evident, and he has no problem ordering people around. He rarely bothers with belittling those below him however if someone is unsure of their place he will not hesitate to set them straight.
When dealing with Garren on a personal basis, he is obviously self centered. While his unwavering confidence can sometimes come across as cheerful, most people who have spent time with him understand that he cares little about anyone but himself. When dealing with someone in a more professional manner, his demeanor is quite different. He is quite respectful but is also very focused on the task at hand. However, even when he is being polite, it is often evident that if he does not get his way, there will be consequence. As such, in almost any interaction with him, there is an uneasy feeling and an uncomfortable air of intimidation that surrounds him. For these reasons, Garren does no make friends, he makes acquaintances with like minded individuals who understand the value of keeping powerful friends close and appeasing those who could potentially become threatening enemies.
Once a rather wealthy man, Garrens awoke from his latest bout of torpor to find his investments suffering. He no longer owns any of the great estates he once had. He views it as a temporary set back, and expects things to fall into place when he puts the effort into making them do so. Therefore, he has spent the last year shifting from one haven to the next, often imposing himself on whatever childer or acquaintance has the space available to him.
Presently he is living in a small loft above a bar in the <?> district. The simple apartment consists of three rooms, a bathroom, and a living room. It would appear average at first glance, but further investigation into the residence would reveal the diligent work of a paranoid sorcerer. Bloodstained glyphs cover the floor beneath the soft carpet, haunted bones a sewn into the couch to ward off unwelcome spirits and the air-ducts have been modified and sealed off leaving the apartment nearly air-proof. The fine, yet simple oak door is enchanted to act as a protective barrier from mundane and magical intrusions. Ancient runes have been clawed into the walls beneath the tiles in the bathroom making the large, Victorian style bath and shower into a site for protective cleansing. Even the bed he sleeps in works as a protective tomb to defend himself from the threats of the world around him and the terrors of his own imagination. Painstaking efforts were taken to hide the manufacturing and protective modifications to his haven so that only himself and his childer know the specifics of his obscure defensive fortress.
Over decades of power struggles Garren has developed relationships with countless influential and important people in the kindred community. Unfortunately, he remembers very few of these relationships, and the ones he does remember, he can only speculate as to their actual depth. The most prevalent relationship in Garrens afterlife is with that of his sire, Eliana Garcia, but sadly, of all of the bonds he has formed over the years, this one is the most convoluted. Their love / hate relationship can be summed up in one frustrating phrase that is heard between the two all too often: “You Never Remember!”. While there is evidence of a romantic relationship that might have once existed between these two, it is also obvious that there is much turmoil between the two.
As of late, Garren has taken instead to watching after his adopted childer, The first of which is an ill-spoken Irishman who either prefers to remain Nameless, or simply does not know his name after all. The other is the charismatic entrepreneur, Frank Rook. Only shortly after Franks embrace, he went missing and has not been seen since. Garren has also taken Rachel Hunter, and outcast of the princesses court, under his wing. His personal relationship with her seems to suffer many of the same problems that he has with his own sire, but none the less it is known that the two live in the same haven and work closely together.
The latest additions to his entourage include Ali, and Arabic assassin who has manage to keep a quiet reputation about himself, and the Mages pet Zoey Flores. After her sire, James McCoy suffered his final death, Zoey was taken under the protection of Garren much to the disdain of the Mage community which had previously worked out an agreement with the late Magistrate McCoy.
The warm water poured down over Garrens cold, dead flesh. The feeling was unnatural, and no matter how routine the habitual showers were, there was always something uncomfortable about them. It was a disturbing reminder of the fact that he was no longer alive. He shut off the water and stood naked in the shower, searching the void inside himself for the motivation to act. It was all just part of the process. After countless decades, so little had changed. He moved to his room where he continued his nightly warding rituals, using the opportunity to pull his scattered thoughts and fragmented memories into something that resembled an agenda. More often than not, he was acting off of the instinct of what he believed he wanted, even if he didn’t understand or feel the want himself. He longed for things to be back the way the once were. Back when the world made sense. He knew that if he could set things straight, his mind could rest again.
Rest was a dangerous concept for him to ponder. It lured and taunted him endlessly. Torpor had a seductive calm to it for those that chose it rather than those it was forced upon, but there would be time for that when things were right again. Over the past few months, his potency had been growing with his knowledge, and the more he understood, the more impatient he became. There were still so many pieces to fit into place, but the queens disgraceful reign would soon come to an end. He would power his ambition with her blood, and use it to rip her soul asunder, incorporate its essence into himself, and toss the scraps of her corps to the jackals that comprised her court. He could care less how many of the petty scavengers devoured each other in the hapless scrummage to replace the foolish Bitch Queen. What mattered was that the kindred of Pendros would have yet another opportunity to prove themselves. Another opportunity to remember what they once were. After all, didn’t everyone deserve a chance to once again be themselves?
The contract would be signed, and the queen would suffer final death. Then he could rest again. Garren completed his rituals. Standing up he took his time getting dressed in his suit, adjusting it in the mirror before putting on his sunglasses and slipping his black leather gloves over his cold fingers. Reassuring himself one last time. When she was gone, it would all make sense again, and then he could rest.