| "If it wasn't for me, this city might actually be functional!" |
| Strength: A master at any weapon with a sharp edge, she can become a fearsome fighter who is almost never intimidated. |
| Weakness: Her naivity and child-like thinking leave her open to emotional spasms and a lack of authoritative piety. A pinnacle example of this is her natural infatuation for the Caitiff Dmitri. |
Statistics:
Clan: Brujah
Generation: 8th
Nature: Autist
Demeanor: Autist
Age: unknown (appears about 20)
Birthday: unknown
Date of Death: unknown
Sire: unknown
 ot, red tears fall from the eyes into the hands of a girl, distraught with emotions. How can it all be gone. How can one forget everything; love, life, happiness, pity, contempt, anger....all that was left was this longing to mourn, and her depression. She had forgotten everything. Each scent of a memory slipped away, sinking into the fog, lost forever by the veil of amnesia. "What was it like", she asked herself, but the answer was never there. It was dark....very dark. She remembers the touch. It was so sweet. And everything smelled so warm and good. She could feel the call from her belly. She remembers her hand, as it carressed a back. But then there was this horrible pain.....something sitting hidden by the pleasure. It was converted from physical pain to an emotional fit, however, when she woke to see what was there. It looked so cold...it felt that way too. The flesh was torn away from its shoulders, now sitting in the mud....but there was no blood. The only blood that was there was sitting in her saliva, around her tongue. She could taste it like she had been sucking on a penny. It was good, but it wasn't. Where was she? Who was she? When was it? She fell into a horrible fit, there in the middle of the street. Like some wild animal she cried. But there was safety. A younger man knelt before her, and held her; cooing her. She grasp unto him, soaking his white shirt with a river of blood tears. He listened to her. He watched her. He taught her a little.....he spoke to much about honor. She just wanted to live, and celebrate life like before! Oh wait...how did she know this? It was a touch of character. There was hope afterall. After months of plotting, and learning, she found out what happened, and who was to blame. The young man, Lucas, set up a dispicable plot and pinned a great punishment on the abandoning sire. Tara was avenged. It would take a while to get used to all of it, but it worked out. She watched as she found a community of others like her. In this community she found a talent that earned her a name that she prides herself in too this day. Her wrist could flick faster than lightning, and she had great strength. It was great for a sword, and so she quickly mastered fencing. From it she gets her name...Blade. This gift was the final punishment to her curser. When her sire dared to get revenge against Lucas for exposing his mistake, Blade intervened and saved Lucas. She took power into her own hands. She didn't stop however. She had made a name for herself, and had the skill to back it up. She was a reknowned Brujah of Chicago, but a trouble maker. As a matter of fact, she was on Lodin's hit-list more than most others. He waited for a way to get rid of her. So when Portage came as an investment, he quickly threw her out. The anarchist was an outcast again.
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| Key Moment: On a quest for her past, Blade is confronted with werewolves and is saved by a mysterous kindred. After the excitement of the fight is over she finds her savior is none other than her true love. |
Other members of the Anarch Coterie
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