Southern Anarchist Vigilante
Blood Potency: ●●●● (Max Vitae at 13, 2 Vitae/turn)
Mental: Intelligence ●● / Wits ●●● / Resolve ●●●
Physical: Strength ●●● / Dexterity ●●● / Stamina ●●●
Social: Presence ●●●● / Manipulation ● / Composure ●●
Medicine ●●●● (Battlefield)
Occult ●● (Voodoo)
Weaponry ●● (Improvised)
Danger Sense ●●
Brawling Dodge ●
Fast Reflexes ●●
Iron Stamina ●
Haven (4) ●●/●●/●●● (Carthian squat)
Flaw: Suspicion (minor derangement)
Equipment: 2 Beretta 92SBs
“Let me tell you something, chile. Just because we don’ breathe anymore doesn’t mean that some folks don’ think they got more right to the air than other folks. That motherfucker who tried to make me his slave deserved everything he got. I was human, yes, but that’s not why he took me. He did it because I was human, and female, and Black. That’s why white blood tastes better than Black blood. Because when you taste the blood of a bigot, you take his hate within you and you redirect it. Towards those who merit it. Towards the fuckers who deserve death in torment.”
October 19, 1844 in St. Gabriel, in Iberville Parish, Louisiana. Not the best time or place to be born a free Black girl. Named for the place from which her parents had been liberated, Georgia Russell grew up in terror of the violence rife in her small and racially-divided community. It was all the Russells could do to keep their heads down in the face of virulent racism.
At sixteen, Georgia decided to move to Chicago, hoping to get a job in a factory and earn enough money to bring her parents out of the South. Unfortunately, her timing couldn’t have been worse – with the outbreak of the Civil War in 1861, she was stranded en route in contested territory. Taken in by a troop of Union soldiers who mistook her for a young boy, Georgia fought in the Civil War, using herbal remedies taught to her by her mother to act as a battlefield medic for Union soldiers.
And it was this occupation which was to eventually kill her – but not in a way she might have expected. Hearing a man cry out on the battlefield one night, she hastened to his aid. But instead of finding a man dying from musket fire, she found a man bleeding out from an oddly-shaped wound on his neck. Before she could do so much as apply a handkerchief to the wound, she herself was snatched up, but the young, white Gangrel Kindred Embraced her, hoping to force her into a Vinculum and thus create for himself a convenient servant. Initially repelled by the proprietary way in which he treated her, Georgia instinctually resisted tasting her sire’s blood again after her Embrace, and left. His betrayal of her engendered in her a strong distrust with which she views the world, Kindred and kine alike.
After leaving her sire, she spent many years of nights in various Southern cities, carrying out bloody reprisals to hate crimes. Georgia feeds only on whites, particularly those who perpetuate what she views as racism – one of the reasons she moved to Milwaukee. She considers her work cut out for her in Milwaukee’s segregated city center. While arriving in Milwaukee in 1967, she met Alain Boucher, who introduced her to the ideals of the Carthian movement. Her revolutionary spirit and pure physical brawn gave Milwaukee’s fledgling Carthian movement its first teeth, and Georgia and Alain have formed the nucleus of a rising anarchist movement among young Milwaukee Kindred.