# Beatrix Alexander
### Overview
[](https://redhandchronicles.com/uploads/images/gallery/2024-09/UMb6888M1XgIZTmK-809006d5c21945bf800de815c120b17d.jpg) [ ](https://redhandchronicles.com/uploads/images/gallery/2024-09/mSLhHlgR1H5B4G52-809006d5c21945bf800de815c120b17d1.jpg)
"The gears of the world have chewed me up and spit me out. I worked the factories until my body was ground into pulp. I was a poet until my voice gave out coughing from the flue. I whispered in the ears of royalty until the revolution strung me up for being a class traitor. I sailed every body of water until the waves swallowed my vessel, condemning me to the bottom of the ocean. I comforted the old, abused the young, made beggars of kings, and castle of rubble. I have worked until my body could no longer move and I have sat fat upon ill gotten riches. I am a sinner and I am a saint. I have been damned by gods and blessed by devils. The dark father, the wanderer, the fisher king, the bloody man."
- A lost poem written by B. M. Alexander.
Stamina
Surprisingly Sturdy
11110
Academics
Impressionist Painting
11100
Willpower
11111 10000
00000 00000
Blood Pool
11111 11111
10000 00000
Language (Spanish, French, German)
Additional Discipline (Dominate)
Clan
5
Scholar of the Enemy*
Social
2
Touch of Frost
Supernatural
1
Freebies-
2 WP -2
Distracting Aura -2
Additional Discipline (Dominate) -5
1 Subterfuge -2
2 Expression -4
1 Dementation -7
XP-
Dominate -10
1 Domination -5
2 Auspex -15
2 Obfuscate -15
1 Dementation -15
Fame -3
1 Fame -2
Ze Monkey's Paw -21
1 Manipulation -12
1 Craft -2
1 Awareness -6
1 Investigation -4
Gear (Carried)
Pen, paper, wallet, keys
Feeding Grounds
Havens
An old manor and an art gallery.
Equipment (Owned)
Brushes, paint, canvases
Vehicles
1958 Oldsmobile 98 convertible
Other
Beatrix was born in the height of the second wave of the industrial revolution in England to a wealthy industrialist family. Her sickly constitution, however, meant that instead of spending much of her time partying or living up the luxury Beatrix spent most of her life confined to her room in the family home. She spent much of her early years having never left her family estate and instead practicing the arts. She took to painting and poetry very quickly, though picking up this and that on the way. Once she was old enough, and healthy enough, she'd take to traveling to find new inspiration for her art. She bounced across England, Scotland, and Ireland painting the growing horrors of the factory jobs as she investigated her family's businesses. She joined the socialist movement for a time even.
Eventually, though, her passionate activism crumbled as her failing health once more forced her to come crawling back to her family. She fell into a deep depression as her family shuttered her away once more for her health and the illness wracked her body. The family doctor did everything he could to cure her but her illness was far too great and her family had expected her to die, furthering her crumbling mental health. She wrote poems of death and painted images of a hell made of machinery. She was doomed to die much like many painters of her time.
However, Doctor Alan saw her art as a reflection of a truly visionary mind. Maybe if fate had been different she would have been embraced by a toreador. But instead, Doctor Alan offered her a chance to continue on. To see even more of the world and to create works beyond her current understanding. Of course, the dying woman had no real choice. She couldn't suck in enough air to say no, anyway.
After her embrace, Beatrix took her family's wealth and decided she'd have to make a new life for herself somewhere else- far from England. She fled to the United States in 1870 without Doctor Alan and set up her home in the state of Maryland do to it's closeness to the sea and proximity to the capital. She did continue activism in the background of her work but as time stretched on she grew older, her work becoming more abstract. She had become loyal to the Camarilla do to it's structure and security but found herself in Noddist circles that the Tower typically rejected. Her art had become strange and collectors seemed to scramble for it the longer that she produced it. In modern nights she claims to "discover lost works" and sells them or leaves them in art galleries.