Updated: Mar 27
Player Name: S
Player E-Mail: firstname.lastname@example.org
Name: Alexandria Evelyn Christine Heloise Maitland
Nickname(s): Lexi, Eve
Rank/Title: Council Member, Adjutant to Laird Orlov, general fixer
Actual Age: 222
Age of appearance: 34
Date of Birth: February 4, 1692
Place of Birth: Leenane, Ireland (actual) Hertfordshire, England (stated)
Marital Status: Eternally and blissfully uncoupled, not making that mistake again.
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual
Religion: Nominally Christian
Chronic Diseases: Porphyria
Eye Color: Blue-green, bloodshot
Hair Color/Style: Black, long
Other: two rouge marks right along her carotid artery that she reapplies every evening when she wakes up and a small beauty mark, usually wears colored, smoked glasses and covers up a lot of her skin.
Play-By Used: Katie McGrath
Lexi is incredibly straightforward, especially for someone who deals mainly in diplomacy, secrecy, and making problems go away. When she wants something, she simply asks politely for
it, with no hint of malice or frustration. Similarly, if someone has screwed something up for her, she’ll simply go to them and talk about it. However, while she’s direct and prefers to handle a lot of problems on her own, it’s her methods that are interesting. She refuses to deal with anything
through violence when she could just as easily deal with it through diplomacy, and considers using her sizable influence, contacts, and diplomatic acumen superior to anything she could do physically.
Lexi is a woman of extremes at times. She’s either incredibly reserved, or pursues excess and eccentricity to the point of high-visibility. There doesn’t seem to be any middle ground with her, nor any she particularly wants. She spent years trying to live in moderation, and now that she’s finally where she wants to be, she’s tired of measured and moderate. While Lexi understands that yes, her position involves a great deal of secrecy, she feels she can get away with some extravagant gestures and not deprive herself. After all, that’s what she originally wanted in the first place.
If Lexi has any weakness, it’s probably that she relies a little too much on her friends and other people. She hasn’t really become aware that this can be subverted just as easily as she does to others. While she’s careful, the wrong link could still betray her at any moment. She also overplays her hand, indulges a little too much with her vices, and is very much the type to have a single night of whirlwind romance over a long-term connection. While she believes she is under control, this really is seldom the case. She also loves a spirited debate far too much.
Blood Preferences: Witch, usually cut with human intoxicants
Strengths: Intelligent, learned a lot over two centuries, highly cultured, incredibly outgoing, quick reflexes and an equally quick thought
Weaknesses: Will usually jump right into an argument with someone, indulges a little too much in her vices, can’t resist being extravagant at times, loves spectacle, over-reliant on people, far too direct sometimes.
She tells everyone she’s from Hertfordshire, because she wouldn’t dare utter the name “Leenane.” It wasn’t like many of them could really tell the difference between affected Dublin posh and English accents anyway, after a while. She grew up poor in 1692, without most of her adopted names (it was rumored among the undead community that they were all lost friends, lovers, or former victims not that anyone’d say it aloud), and couldn’t help but wonder if Leenane and its small confines were all there were to life. She read, in secret so she wouldn’t cause any trouble, she tried to stay educated with the times, as newer science seemed to be discovered every week, and most importantly, she kept a low profile. It was important to her, she didn’t want to be burned at the stake or worse. The 1700s were perhaps the worst time to be well-read and ill-behaved, but rather than continue to stay around and risk discovery, Eve decided instead to book passage on a small ship to England.
Where she was promptly ignored. She tried for months to get work, taking small jobs as a domestic here and there, working as a servant, keeping her head down, and for the most part, it barely worked out. She found herself doing more duty as a barmaid than anything else, and while working at a tavern meant she had all the time in the world to debate drunkards and read on her own, she was still without much of a purpose. This would not do. But luckily, her life was about to change forever.
One night, a regular named Edmund wandered into the bar and told Eve that he was looking for an etiquette tutor, and she seemed much more skilled than a barmaid should be. Eve took this in stride, she’d had some spirited arguments with Edmund in the past, and so she said she’d at least go and take a look. Edmund gave her a rundown as much as he could, though he was incredibly evasive-- he had a daughter, and a lovely estate, but she needed someone to teach her the feminine graces. Eve, despite her rough-seeming exterior, was more than adept at doing such a thing, and so he took her back to the remote manse where she met Clarissa Collins, Edmund’s daughter.
The house was dark, something Edwin explained away with some kind of rare disease Clarissa had, but what was truly odd was that Clarissa seemed to have more pull over the household than her father, who should have been the head of the household. To further make things odd, Clarissa seemed to want some kind of odd bond with Eve. Eve, to her credit, was willing to be more than a tutor and domestic, but she wanted some distance from her pupil, distance which Clarissa did not seem to want to give. The young woman seemed determined to make her a part of the family, and while Eve tried to get out, the money and the warm bed were too good, and the Collinses were not the kind to let her leave.
And then...odd things started happening. Eve would wake up with odd bruises, occasionally with strange marks on her neck. She found she had a similar light sensitivity, she'd adjusted to living in the dark house, but going out tended to make her slightly ill. She attributed it to her environment, the changing seasons, and occasionally something she ate, though she didn't have much of an appetite to begin with, and neither Edwin nor Clarissa seemed very interest in the food in general. Eve found this odd, but it was another strange aspect of her life, and while they were eccentric, they didn't mistreat her too much.
And then came the illness.
Eve was bedridden for two weeks. Everything made her throw up. She felt like she would die. She had nightmares that Clarissa was visiting her and attacking her, forcing some kind of foul metallic-tasting liquid down her throat, and she wasn't able to move. This lasted for two interminable weeks, and then finally, one night, Eve woke up.
She felt alive and awake for the first time in a while, more alert than she had been. As she arose from her bed, she suddenly realized that she could see the whole room. It was pitch dark. She was further frightened, and bolted for the front doors, only to find Clarissa waiting for her.
Clarissa explained that she'd made Eve a vampire, that Eve could now be the woman of the household and also aid Clarissa in things, and since she never needed to leave the house, she could be responsible for the estate. Eve was shocked, but found that her sire had a strange and compelling power over her. She did as Clarissa asked, taking care of the house while luring people into the manor, where Clarissa would feed on them and let Eve have the scraps.
Finally, Eve had had enough. Hearing that there were vampire hunters two towns away, she journeyed out and spent an entire week cajoling and wheedling them to come out to the manor. She was able to convince them, and when Clarissa fell upon them, Eve interfered enough, leading them through secret passageways and setting up a few traps here and there, to keep Clarissa from satiating. By the end, it was a Pyrrhic victory, and most of the hunters lay dead, but among the bodies were Edmund and Clarissa.
Eve finished the last of the hunters off. She was hungry after all, and when it was brought up to the vampires who came wondering why they hadn't heard from Clarissa, Eve spun a story of how the hunters had killed her sire in a massive battle and how she was only barely able to finish them off. The tears helped sell it, and if the ruling class in England cared much about one of their Ladies going missing, they did nothing to show it. A forged bequeathment left her the house and the money, she'd done more than enough document-writing for her "daughter" that she could easily leave herself the house, the lands, and whatever fortune Clarissa had hoarded.
She used the fortune to make a few investments, but eschewed any title or anything that went with it. Being Clarissa's progeny taught her that a low profile and less decadence was probably better, and as talk of Revolution dominated conversations more and more, the low profile served her well. She was able to keep out of the way of the major progress, so everything stayed more or less where it should.
But the whole thing wasn't, as it stood, very interesting. She found herself slipping into old habits. After all, she apparently had all the time in the world, and she tired of vice dens and the like rather quickly. She ordered numerous books, translated and otherwise, to an address she had in London, spent the spring and summer at an old manse entertaining guests that she made sure to be off-putting around, adopting the air of a gothic novel character and a wardrobe that made most of the dandies she socialized with tell her to perhaps tone it down a little. But she’d decided to be herself, and herself was cultural salons, entertaining guests as if she was the villain of Walpole or Lewis, flagrant disrespect for convention in more romantic matters (there were always rumors about who she’d been with and who’d “taken ill visiting Lady Maitland”).
It was through her parties and intellectual debates that she chanced upon one Nick Orlov. The two had been debating the merits of recent politics, and things got quite heated, guests dividing along the side of the revolutionaries or the side of the Loyalists. Eventually, Eve had to shut the whole business down (it was fine being in a spirited argument where she’d taken the side of the Revolution when it was just fun, but getting challenged to a duel at sundown was just gauche) and most of the guests left save for Nick. Eve was a bit tired and off her game, so as Nick started telling her that the Council had taken notice and that she should learn to keep a lower profile, a job he’d been picked for because the Council decided he’d owed them one and he had an imposing enough demeanor, Eve deflected with jokes the first few times until finally Nick decided showing was better and made a more aggressive move. Eve, refusing to back down, did realize he was serious after several minutes and blinked first, instead getting them both drinks and discussing how she could possibly maintain a lifestyle she was comfortable with while still meeting the council’s demands.
The two of them played verbal tennis with each other for most of the night, alternately frustrating and intriguing each other, and when it finally came for Eve to retire to her chambers and Nick to use the secret tunnel out of her townhouse and back towards his own lodgings, they had a grudging respect. Over the years, this eventually turned into friendship, the two relying on each other, as they trusted each other enough to tell the truth about their respective situations. It also meant Eve would drag Nick into more social situations, the two of them would make odd bets (Eve once had to wear gray for three years because she incorrectly predicted a French democracy), Nick helped her get a position as first an unofficial Ms. Fix-it and then official fixer for the Council, and they generally got on well, save for one thing.
It was because of this trust and respect that Eve eventually got to meet Celeste, Nick’s ward. The first meeting did not go particularly well. Eve still had memories of Clarissa and her reign of terror, the idea that there were child vampires, vampires made such before they could develop empathy and guilt (or lack thereof), was her one breaking point. She was polite and cordial enough during the meeting, and then promptly cut off contact for a week or two to process. When she did finally emerge again, she asked as politely as she could for an explanation, and talked things out with Nick, even bringing him a rather extravagant blood phial as an apology. She worked on accepting Celeste, even if she was wary of her presence and wondered now and then exactly how stable the young lady was. Being told Celeste was about four years older than her did not help. But eventually, Eve relented completely, as Nick was being a good “father,” and Celeste was at least sharp and not as insane as Clarissa had been, nor as sadistic.
Eve’s odd friendship with the Orlovs kept up when Nick got his new appointment, though Eve had her own things to keep busy with. A recent lover of hers started sending her “presents,” and Eve, as the poor thing’s sire, was forced to deal with it as well as her Council duties. When they could, they sent letters and telegrams across the Atlantic, Eve gently nudging him about “colonizers” and generally keeping up things long-distance.
But finally, things came to a head. The Council wanted to know how Laird Orlov was doing and if things were running smoothly, and Eve was...not their favorite person. Over the course of a masquerade ball, she’d finally tracked down her delightful ex and, after a night no one in the immediate vicinity would forget, finally rectified the mistake she’d made during a rather gruesome duel just before sunrise. The estate where the ball took place soon fell victim to a mysterious fire that claimed all the guests, and Eve was taken into the Council and told she was to receive a promotion to Bailiff and oversee their interests in the new territories.
She knew what it was. They needed her out of sight and out of mind, not causing trouble, and they needed to know what was going on in America. Her choices were either to do as they say, or alternately to be pinned to an Eastern-facing wall, left there for several hours, and then staked. Eve immediately picked out her thirty best outfits, contracted a box to travel in, and shipped all of it to the States.
Besides, what better way to wait out her exile than to check up on an old friend?
Silent partner at The Belle Dame, a kind of gambling hall, lounge, and vice den
Lived There Since:
Either a horse, or a carriage with blackout curtains
Hobbies: Riding, the piano, target shooting, occasionally ballroom dance, parties, hunting, any social event, debauchery.
Can usually be found: Anywhere a little higher-class, but she does also spend time at the hostlery, the saloons, and of course the den of iniquity she helped privately stake
Favorite Color: Violet, or dark red
Favorite Food: She doesn’t eat often, but she does enjoy rare meat with potato croquettes
Favorite Drink: Black tea, or Turkish coffee with a sprinkle of cocaine
Favorite Alcoholic Drink: Scotch whisky, though rum making its way up from the Caribbean is growing on her. Or wine laced with something stronger and a bit more illegal. Flaunt the stereotypes, after all.
Favorite Music: Anything other than Stephen Foster, but she does favor more avant-garde classical of the day
Favorite Read: Melmoth the Wanderer by Charles Robert Maturin, though she also finds Byron’s The Giaour utterly hilarious, too.
Some Facts (Optional)
[Smoking:] Yes, why not, since cancer isn’t a problem
[Drinks Alcohol:] Yes
[Religion:] Nominally? Catholic
[Worst Habit:] She’s not very subtle when she has something she needs to take care of
[Most Common Misconception about him/her:] She’s a dilettante obsessed with appearance, aesthetics, and decadence. She might have some of that, but that’s certainly only a small part of her.
[Biggest Fear:] Having to hide herself, being humbled or owned by anyone.
[Weapons] Two revolvers, a pepperbox in her sleeve and a Colt Pocket Navy
Random Facts (Optional)
[Tends to Always?] Use pet names, have something in her system other than just blood
[Is Ticklish?] Hardly, that left years ago
[Oddest Thing?] Hard to pick, but her complete lack of convention or regard for it is pretty odd.
[Most likely to find him/her?] In the midst of a group of people, in the back room of the place she helped stake, anywhere there’s activity in town.
[Knows he's/she's really sorry if?] She actually says it.