Name: Simone Lemaitre

Player: Kami

Court: Unseelie

Legacies: Courtier/Knave

Seeming: Wilder

Kith: Pooka

Motley/Household:

Attributes

Physical

Strength: 1

Dexterity: 4 (+5) (Gymnastic)

Stamina: 2

Social

Charisma: 3

Manipulation: 3

Appearance: 4 (Jaw-Dropping)

Mental

Perception: 3

Intelligence: 3 +5

Wits: 3

Abilities

Talents

Alertness: 1

Athletics: 2

Brawl:

Empathy: 2

Expression: 1

Intimidation:

Kenning: 1

Leadership:

Streetwise: 1

Subterfuge:1

Skills

Animal Ken: 1

Crafts:

Drive:

Etiquette 3

Firearms:

Larceny: 3

Melee:

Performance: 4 (+2) (Singing)

Stealth: 2

Survival: 1

Knowledges

Academics:

Computer:

Enigmas: 1

Gremayre: 2

Investigation: 1

Law:

Medicine:

Politics: 1

Science:

Technology:

Advantages

Backgrounds:

Treasure (“Cat” Tags, works like Soothsay 3: Tattletale) 3,

Remembrance 2, Resources 1

Merits: Perfect Balance 3, Voice of a Songbird 2, Good Listener 1, Sex Appeal 3

Flaws: Short (1), Curiosity (2), Phobia of Drowning (2) Bizarre Quality (2)

Birthright/Frailty: Shapechanging, Confidante, Untruths

Antithesis:

Arts: Oneiromancy 1, Summer 1, Metamorphosis 1

Realms: Actor 2, Fae, 2, Scene 1

Glamour: 5

Willpower: 4

Nightmare:

Banality: 3

Character History

Mortal Name: Simone Lemaitre

Faerie Name: Bast

Mortal Age: 22

Mortal Profession: Bar Owner

Chimera/Companions/Treasures: See Backgrounds

Personality

Quicks:

Motivations and Goals: Social climbing, hot Sidhe

Identity

Mortal: I’m a blast, baby. Left Louisiana after a torrid affair enraged a man’s mother.

Changeling: The Hand of the King. Driven out of the Duchy of the Delta Crescent in the Kingdom of Willows because Duchess Lisaniettia ni Balor expelled her after a torrid affair with her son, Lord Miles ap Balor. To save face, the Duchess has provided loans for the opening of the bar.

Equipment and Other Notes

Purse with Toiletries, Cat Toys, Catnip, the most recent version of the Samsung Galaxy, Songbook, Pencils, Erasers, Ink-Pens, Atomizer Perfume Bottle, Medicinal Grade Marijuana, Paraphernalia. Credit Cards, Debit Card, Ankle Bracelet with Bells, Red Jeweled Collar with Bow (Treasure, Dog Tags.) Dross in the form of Dreamstones, and one Memento (A piece of the Berlin Wall)

Nightclub - The Hot Tin Roof w. Living Space (Brooklyn)

Oaths:

Oaths Sworn:

Oaths Broken:

Other Notes

Simone's Story

Like most kittens, Simone came into the world with a mewling cry, nearly blind, and with only the thinnest, finest covering of hair on her downy little head. Like some kittens, she was unwanted. A illegitimate child of a too-young mother, she was left at a fire-station drop-off with no questions asked. It seems like the beginning to a perfectly wretched story; however, some things in this world just happen to have a way of turning themselves around…

The baby was adorable, with big blue eyes and a kittenish coo. It was easy to fall in love with her. The Staff Chief of the Fire Station took one look in those wide eyes and fell hopelessly, devotedly, in love. He and his wife had spent many years and countless dollars on fertility treatments that failed to coerce one barren womb to quicken with life. It seemed fate had smiled upon the two. Fate, and a good dose of the Magic they knew to exist in the world.

The chief was a Pooka, a Dalmatian. In wondrous; not-quite irony and his sweet Boggan wife owned a catering business. They were not rich, nor poor, and were exceedingly happy. Of the Winter Court, they valued passion and freedom. They named their daughter Simone and nurtured and encouraged her along every fledgling step that one takes on the course from childhood to a young adult.

Living a permissive lifestyle is sometimes a blessing and a curse. Simone was given free rein to explore what happened to be a very theatrical existence. From the early years of toddling around in her mother’s old wedding gown, red high heels, beaded necklaces, and topped with her Father’s Fireman’s helmet it was assumed that she would be a star. Or, so she told everyone.

She wrote silly songs and belted them long into the night. She staged mini-dramas with her stuffed toys as heroes and villains. She lived a life of gaiety and exuberance, and the Dreaming wove itself around her.

It was the hottest summer in decades. While climatologists spouted global warming, the long days stretching into longer nights were full of magic and misadventures for a teenage girl on the cusp of womanhood. Something was changing. She’d known it for weeks. It was an indescribable knot of anticipation in her middle, rather like the feeling one got before a class trip or a birthday party. It was a coiling, breath-stealing awareness that fate was lining up in such a way that the events to come would forever alter a young girl’s destiny.

On the longest, hottest night of the year, the young girl slipped her bedroom window open. She reached for the branch of a tree that grew just close enough to her window to allow her to swing her nubile form onto the branches and with a feline grace descend the trunk to fall into the waiting arms of a young, dark-haired boy with eyes like stars and a kiss that tasted like clover honey, lingering hot and sweet on her tender mouth just discovering the nuances of love and passion.

The two joined hands, and as always he marveled at how pale she seemed in comparison to his own swarthy form. Oh, he’d liked her well enough before. This young girl with whom he was embarking on a hedonistic summer fling before his military family was jostled about once more and he lost her forever. The story of their passion would later top singles charts as it sold under his pseudonym. When she would hear it on the radio, years after the actual encounter, she would think fondly of her time with that rebellious boy who rode a motorcycle and played the guitar. All without coming to the realization that she was the fantasy girl so many would covet vicariously through the melody they created that transcendental night… But, dear reader, that is another story…

There was something different about her. He couldn’t quite put her finger on it. It was beguiling, scintillating. It was something marvelous, something miraculous. It was a night of boundless promise.

With hushed laughter, they secreted away for a clandestine evening of romance beneath the starry skies. They swam in the cool waters of a nearby pond. They picnicked on a colorful blanket feeding each other and dreaming dreams and spinning teenage fantasies about the lives they would live, the places they would go, and the people they would meet.

He played his guitar, and she sang. What a voice, she had! He’d thought it alluring before; however, that night … the High Summer night when everything changed she was a siren, distorting his senses. If she was to be his doom he would drown willingly in her rapturous embrace, lost in the euphoria of every stolen kiss.

They made love. Not the fumbling, awkward attempts of their first forays into sexual congress. It was a coming together of bodies and fusing of souls. It was rapturous, it was hedonistic passion in its truest measure. As the world spiraled out of control, as she shattered quaking in his arms… in that pivotal moment… she was as she had been before and was destined to be again. On that night of nights, when Pooka throw caution to the wind in high holiday… the kitten became a cat.

She stared up at that boy with the starry eyes, and he stared back at her. The Eshu with his midnight hair that fell in bed-tousled dishabille realized that he had been present as the Pooka that was Bast had emerged once more in human flesh. She laughed, her hands lifting to touch her face… her nails now pretty little claws… Claws that moments before had raked along his backside leaving their marks in his supple flesh. They made love again, and again… Creeping back to her home in the early hours of the dawn their bodies spent, their hands clasped and promises that were never meant to be kept lingering between them.

Her parents were elated, of course. They presented her to the local courts. As a matter of course, they made sure she understood all the formalities that came with the ebb and flow of Changeling Society and the tenebrous line that separated their dual worlds. The summer came to an end, and she and her lover returned to their not-quite-normal lives after a poignant and bittersweet goodbye.

They taught her the ways of Kithain magic, how to manipulate Glamour and to recognize the residual energy of chimerical arts. It was under their tutelage that she began to forge her way into Changeling society. It wasn’t the first time she’d moved among mortals, and some lives were sooner forgotten. Though, the experiences and memories linger still.

Simone was naturally drawn to her somewhat feral nature. In many ways, she was a typical cat. She found she’d a fixated fascination laser pointers and catnip. She was morbidly curious, she developed a revulsion to water that was over her head (sure that she would drown.) There were benefits, as well. She had an uncanny sense of balance and a femme fatale sensuality that she wielded to her advantage.

It wasn’t difficult to cultivate many lovers. The feline-esque femme fatale was a willing sycophant and understood well how to pander to those who might benefit her social status. It was not long before she was bestowed a jeweled collar with a bow as a gift from a noble suitor who loved for her to sing him to sleep after a night of bedroom frolicking. Of unusual quality, the back of the bow was forged with silver identification tags with the name and address of the original wearer worn thin. It was the perfect gift for an up-and-coming social climber (Dandy;) though, she often masked her ambitions in a most placating fashion. (Courtier.)

Her musical aptitude continually increased, aided by the useful treasure. She studied the arts at a prestigious university and trained beneath the best vocal coaches her parents’ resources (bolstered by a few scholarships) could afford. She started working in a cocktail lounge as a waitress and part-time singer. As her skills in the performing arts grew, she was soon headlining and learning to manage her own finances while keeping in touch with her folks via holiday trips to their home and frequent phone calls and video chats.

It is rumored that it was an indiscretion that afforded her the windfall that allowed Simone to wisely invest in the Sugar Factory that she would turn into a nightclub.

Though heavily invested, she should soon see a profit.

The legalization of marijuana allowed the opportunity for a hookah bar and grill catering to the cannabis crowd; more so, it a lucrative and profitable venture.

Simone surrounds herself with mortals who she plans to draw into her Retinue. A struggling musician and a financial adviser whose secret love is terrible poetry will soon be named among their ranks. Both closely with the Pooka who continues to encourage their respective talents on a weekly amateur night hosted by her thriving business.

Simone has presented herself to the Nobles of the land with invitations to drink on the house, of course. Kithain would always receive a discount by those Enchanted mortals who make her business viable. Noble or Common, all are welcome within the Hot Tin Roof.

Offering a venue for local artists, musicians, and poets to gather and present their work give Simone and her patrons a steady supply of dreamers. Things are going well, for that little-orphan-kitten turned femme-fatale feline. After all, fortune did seem to favor the bold. Simone (intrepid heroine that she was) means to take the town by storm with vivacious verve and panache.

The Sugar Factory

The Sugar Factory

It had been a devastating blow to the community when the Domino’s Sugar Factory closed, taking it with it the livelihood of the many employees who had once entered its doors. The recession that had plagued the country had taken its toll. The machines whirred and groaned to a grinding halt, the last employees filtered from the building. As the doors closed for a final time a stale wind stirred as if the property itself were sighing, preparing for a needed rest after years of constant activity during a time of thriving commerce.

The years passed, renovation projects and city proposals fell through the cracks, and the behemoth on the river slumbered on. As she is wont to do, Nature saw the building’s lethargic state as an invitation to once again reclaim what industrialization had stolen. Vines grew along the chain-link fence, some budding into vibrant flowers. The exterior paint began to fade, and oxidization from the exposure to the elements caused reddish-brown corrosion to appear on the building’s exterior. Vandals in the form of unwanted wildlife began to appear, as well as those of the bipedal variety.

With their arrival, came other changes. Graffiti on the building’s exterior reflects the eerie light of the river and add a raw artistic appeal. Many showcases stenciled raccoons and more recently, cats. Broken glass panes twinkle, and the occasional glimpse of wildlife can be viewed as these new occupants skitter along the rooftops and the fire-escapes that cling precariously, each unwilling to fall to the wayside and abandon their post.

A resurgence of the human presence began wit rumors of a condominium development.started with a large sign that read, “Change is Coming.” Beneath, in italicized lettering, “Salvatore Construction.” Brawny laborers beneath the supervision of a large, hulking brute in jeans, a t-shirt, and construction boots began to appear. The Kithain of the County would recognize this Gray-Hat wearing Project Manager as the troll, William Black.

Soon after construction broke ground, whispers of an exclusive cannabis club and lounge began circulating amid the hipster crowd of New York. No commercial advertisement makes its way into the sector of popular or social media; however, lights on the water and the sound of music echo in the night air. Life has returned and roused, the sleeping giant began to stir.

The factory has awoken once again, with elements of what was and what is mingling to provide an ambiance that combines industrial functionality with a vintage, film-noir-esque luxury. The abandoned parking lot is again filling with vehicles of patrons who flock to double doors illuminated by a single globe light. A large bouncer stands outside the door with stoic features, checking IDs and either granting entry or denying admittance. The prohibitive and preferential exclusivity only added to the nightclub’s growing popularity.

The doors open to what was once a bar industrial space but now showcases sculptures and other artistic endeavors from local artists. Paintings hang on the walls or are suspended from the high ceiling. A spartan stairwell leads to the roof access where club-goers gather to admire the artwork that will not be hampered by the elements or to enjoy the hookahs and other smoking paraphernalia peddled by cigarette girls in vintage costumes. These lovely young ladies make the rounds between each level of the club proper.

Another entrance incongruously marked Exit leads to the main staging area of the nightclub. There, a large bar is illuminated by industrial-style light fixtures that combine function and artistic flair. Live music is provided by local bands and entertainers and between sets local poets share their original compositions. The floors have been covered by large rugs, where patrons may sprawl if they so choose. Leather-covered sofas and tables always within arms reach are positioned to facilitate conversation and a communal atmosphere.

Off from the main area is yet another stairwell leading to the lowest level of the building. There, a greater selection of cannabinoids may be found as well as wells as edibles and other novelty items and smoking paraphernalia are available for purchase.

The Wildlife

Duchess reigns over her domain, offering little care for those to wish to stare and some might say even posturing and posing for onlookers. This white cat’s nickname came about due to her uncanny resemblance to a similarly blue-eyed feline made popular by a classic animated film. Though she frequently appears in the darkest hours of the night just before the dawn, she can occasionally be glimpsed during the day or early evening.