Eleanor
"Friendly relationships are dangerous. They lend themselves to ambiguities, misunderstandings, and conflicts, and they always end badly. Formal relationships, on the other hand, are as clear as spring water. Their rules are carved in stone. There’s no risk of being misunderstood and they last forever."
Formal Duels: Trained in the fine art of swords, sabers and rapiers. Would you like to spar?
Speaks When Spoken To: Ellie rarely speaks first. Her voice, soft and precise, often waits behind a moment too long, as if weighing the cost of being heard. Shyness clings to her not out of fear, but from a lifelong habit of listening more than she reveals.
Transactional Mindset: Ellie sees the world in quiet exchanges, she favors things like knowledge and silence. She doesn’t demand power, but she understands its currency: a well-kept secret, a timely translation, a name withheld. Every word she offers is weighed, every glance calculated, not out of malice but survival. In her mind, even kindness must have value, or it risks being taken for weakness.
Are you a Good Witch or a Bad Witch?
Eleanor Hart was born to be looked at. She never wanted to be.
From childhood, people watched her with that quiet, startled reverence reserved for swans in the wrong part of town; tall, delicate, and too lovely for her surroundings. Even before she understood what beauty meant, she noticed how people paused mid-sentence when she walked into a room. Strangers asked about modeling. Classmates wrote her notes they couldn’t bring themselves to say aloud. But Ellie? Ellie wanted books. She wanted obscurity, silence, the company of dust and parchment and something older than longing.
She buried herself in it. Studied theology, folklore, and ancient languages like they were incantations to keep the world at bay. Her college professors adored her precise and well-mannered demeanor. But there was always that flicker of something else in their eyes. Awe. Want. Discomfort. And she hated it.
So when Dr. Leontine Marchand offered her a position assisting with arcane translations (rare texts from “private European libraries”) Ellie accepted without hesitation. She saw it as a sanctuary: a cloister of ritual and logic, of deep work and deeper quiet. And for a while, it was. She lived in dusty archives, copying symbols by hand, cataloguing ancient invocations that prickled against her skin. Then came the dream she didn’t wake up from. The embrace she didn’t agree to. The new life written in blood and sealed in silence.
Ellie’s beauty, it seemed, had followed her beyond the grave. Her Embrace didn’t change her so much as sharpen her—porcelain-pale, bone-fragile, with luminous grey eyes like a cathedral window at dusk. A vision of unearthly grace… and still, somehow, overlooked in the Pyramid. Because the Tremere don't value beauty, they value utility.
So Ellie became useful. Obedient. Inward. Always impeccably dressed in her own subdued, vintage style of floor-length skirts, Victorian blouses, high collars and gloves. Always graceful, always polite. Always watchful.
In early 1995, she was assigned to Houston—young blood to aid the Chantry’s archival efforts. She knew better than to protest. She packed her books and journals, her ritual tools, her mirrorless compact, and traveled quietly to the Gulf.
Now she tends to the sacred detritus of the clan’s occult traditions. She transcribes rituals in fine calligraphy. She brews components by candlelight. She’s rarely noticed, she speaks softly. She does what she’s told. But she is always listening.
Prince Ha-Joon: "Prince Ha-Joon speaks like someone who’s already memorized the eulogy for the city, just in case. I respect that. But I’d also like to know what else he’s memorized. A man that careful doesn’t leave much to chance -- or witnesses."
Seneschal Sonja Ashton: "Sonja Ashton is the stillness between two falling towers. You can’t tell if she’s the balance or the blueprint. But I suspect she keeps more ledgers than the rest of us know exist. If she ever smiled, I think I’d be terrified."
Sheriff Abraham Creed: "You don’t have to outrun the lion, just the one he points at first."
Ms. Dizzy Stinton: "Dizzy reminds of standing too close to a Tesla coil... beautiful, brilliant, and just one mistake from being a cautionary tale. I like her, in the way a researcher likes a storm: you don’t interfere, you observe and hope you’re far enough away if it turns."
Mr. Eddie Dubois: "People like that are useful, but you have to be willing to watch them shatter. There is nothing worse than a Brujah on a short leash."
The Poppy of Pinkerton: "Poppet unnerves me. Not because she’s monstrous — I’ve made peace with monsters — but because she wears it like a child’s Sunday dress. There’s an intelligence there, ancient and sidelong, like a riddle written in nursery rhyme. And I have the awful feeling that when she laughs, something in the foundations shifts. I do hope we can become the best of friends."
The Nosferatu: "I try not to assume anything about the Nosferatu, except that they already know what I’m thinking. That’s the safest working theory, and probably the most accurate one, too."
The Praxis of Houston: "This Court reminds me of an ecosystem with too many apex predators. There's no balance, just long pauses between sudden collapses. But I suppose that's how new species evolve.
Clan: Tremere
Age: 22
Demeanor: Perfectionist
Profession: Archivist and Translator
❤ - Energy Vampires, Shanin Blake
You know those people who suck off your energy?
I call them energy vampires, well
Energy vampires can suck you dry
That's why I keep my circles small, that's why I keep my circle tight
I learned my lesson to always trust my intuition
Cause some of these people, they don't have my best intentions
Pay attention 'cause there's always more snakes in the grass
Ready to bite, any chance that they have
I burn the sage to cut ties and say my goodbyes
To anybody out there that doesn't deserve my time
Cause my time is precious and my energy delicious
They be tryna eat without doing their dirty dishes
I love you from a distance, so please get out of my kitchen
If you don't serve the goddess, get your check because you're finished
Like Anees, I'm free from toxicity
And I use an evil eye to protect my energy
So if you don't respect my boundaries, you're a succubus I don't need
I'll do a ceremony just to cut your chords because I love me
