Phyiscal |

• Strength 4 (Iron Grip) |
• Dexterity 5 (Lighting Reflex)|
• Stamina  3|

Social |

• Charisma  2 |
• Manipulation 2 |
• Appearance 2 |

Mental |

• Perception 3 |
• Intelligence 2 |
• Wits 3 |

Talents

• Alertness 2
• Athletics 2
• Brawl 3
• Dodge 2
• Intimidation 2
• Streetwise 2

Skills

• Aminal Ken 1
• Firearms 4 (Shotgun)
• Melee 3
• Security 2
• Stealth 1
• Survival 2

Knowledges

• Investigation 2
• Linguistics 1
• Occult 2
• Politics 1

Disciplines

• Celerity 2
• Potence  2

She was the smallest of the small time in life. A minor hanger-on of a minor gang in a minor neighborhood. The daughter of a constantly….altered mother and an unknown father, she spent a great deal of time getting pushed around and bullied by those bigger and stronger. Drafted into service as a small time drug courier and messenger for the local gang, she had a few run-ins with the law. What little she saw of school and of child protective services left her unimpressed with authority in general. They seemed to her a different kind of bully, too similar to what she already knew. Deep inside, though, she had held onto a vain and tiny hope that they would take her away from the squalor and the abuse. It was always disappointed. Knowing innately that she would never make it on her own, she looked for a protector of some kind, someone who could defend her.  If she had been the least bit attractive, this could have ended much worse than it actually did. A more-than-slightly mad former POW named Calhoun came across her getting roughed up by some random thug, took pity on her, and took her back to his squalid little house. Cleaned her up, kept her fed. Put her to work for his own purposes, of course. She hadn't actually killed someone under his command, but even she knew that day was coming. He taught her to care for and shoot a gun, how to fight with a knife, pick locks, build a simple pipe bomb, hotwire a car. She learned a mishmash of marital arts and street fighting concentrated on making her smaller size an advantage. She thought the two of them were going to take over the streets (or possibly overthrow the government, Calhoun tended to be a little vague about his goals). And then it happened. The big betrayal. (Details to be determined later with James-upshot is Calhoun did something that either did, or that she believes did lead to her being sired by a vampire.)

It could have all gone another way, you know. If the vampire who sired her had done as he should-raised her, taught her, helped her-he would have had a devoted servant for eternity. Instead he left her to rise alone, confused, scared, and, more than anything else, angry. Always a survivor, she figured things out. The hard way.

In her (rare, brief) introspective moments, she knows that becoming a vampire has made her everything she was never going to be in life: strong, powerful, perhaps respected. But to her it still can only symbolize another betrayal and victimization. She has mellowed somewhat from her first few years, which were a utter bloodbath, focused on her old neighborhood and on repaying tenfold every slight and insult she received there. She's never found Calhoun, though, and she is saving an epic vengeance for him. After years of searching, she's mostly given up-but is keeping an ear to the ground. Throughout the city, her contacts know that she will pay dearly for information and news on the man. 

Shortly after she destroyed her neighborhood, she found herself at loose ends but still full of rage and anger. She took to mindless, random violence, stalking the nights and starting fights, causing trouble for the sake of it. This was motivated in equal parts by excess anger, confusion at her new situation, and a self-loathing urge for suicide by proxy. It was in these nights that she met Sparrow, who did what he could to tame and settle her. It took a while, but he earned a kind of trust from her. Although still on the look out for the "catch," for the ways in which this, too, could blow up in his face, she does listen to him (more or less) and trust him (more or less). She's moved out from under his wing, but keeps in touch. Since she's calmed down (relatively speaking), she's made a small name for herself as and "all purpose breaker of shit." The once-kicked around street kid has become the muscle, taking on small jobs as a demolitionist, a bodyguard for the well off, and, occasionally, as a hitwoman. She has a lair in the basement of an abandoned liquor store, nothing fancy, but a kind of home. No one has been there by her invitation or otherwise. There is a small tunnel connecting the basement to the city's sewer systems, but it is heavily fortified with the best traps she can manage. She makes minor improvements to them from time to time.

She's not a born leader, but chafes against authority. Although her life and unlife were defined by a search for (for lack of a better term) a "Master," she is sullen and resentful and slow to obey anyone telling her what to do. That reputation she has built as a hired gun is one of, "a pain in the ass, but worth it" more than anything else. She is not very smart or educated by any means, but is street smart. From her human life she has carried over a certain talent for fading into the background and keeping out of notice. Since becoming a vampire, though, this has become more of a skill she sometimes cultivates and uses as opposed to the unconscious reflex it once had been.