Fierre Bélanger

Description:

Title: None
Clan: Malkavian
Age: Ancilla
Status: Clan: 0, Camarilla: 0, City(Minneapolis): 0

Things True

  • She has a long infamy to those who can name her, a long line of being run out of towns as well.
  • There is nothing that the good Mademoiselle Fierre would not do to feed her lust for blood.
  • Wherever Fierre is, in the shadow and causing your spine to tingle, is the presence of a behemoth, monsterous other. Fierre will call him…Peter.
  • She has a far more tolerable and timid persona, it calls itself Claire. Everything that Fierre is, she is the opposite, right down to a loathing of blood.

Relationships

Audric Moreaux “He offers me respite from the haven of madness that my darker self treasures. I can’t stay there…never there, please. Make it stop!” 2
Cocker “Fierre finds his dangerous nature liken to her own, despite security, she seems to find him fascinating, and has written him hand penned letters every week since her arrival.” 2
Anson Reed “My beastial sister, the other side of me, it fears him because his past strikes hard feelings into us both, but I understand the need to keep in good with him. I hope the day never comes that she has her way with dealing with him. Oh the blood…” 1
James Canton “I know little of the man, but a lot about his enemy. He and I…we share a dangerous foe.” 1
Bio:

“Sit her down!” shouted out the stout Sister with her frightened silver eyes peering through her knob-nosed spectacles and just round the corner of a massive age spot. “Ayyyygah! She bit me! The devil bit me!” came the sharp, pained voice of Brother Aubrey. Sister Blanche barked out, “Sit her!” The age spot on her nose wrinkling up as her brow began to perspire…things were getting heated and frightening in the convent as of late. Just why did she decide to take on the case of this devil-child? It was Father Demonte, the smooth young bright mind rising over the Church elders in wisdom, of course, that caused her to do so. He had taken one long look at her and said in the soft, soul healing tone he so often did, “That one did not accept the devil of man; man put the devil in her. I will help her.” It was not long after that, Sister Blanche was, in the strictest confidence, enlightened as to what the Father had been up to for the past 6 months. “You see, Sister Blanche…I have locked myself away from all of you to do Gods work. I have been studying the worlds sickly of the mind and documenting various cases, I have even been working with them under safe regulation.” He gave her a mischievous look, knowing all to well her horror of hearing this. “I have written much doctrine about my thesis, that the human mind is fragile and in fact can perceive things in its state, not to mention become physically harmed…and no devil is the cause.” Now, here at this moment, staring across the room at a dark haired devil child, with blood stained lips, leather bound hands and feet to her chair…Sister Blanche wondered if it was the Father himself who was possessed to madness.

As the room calmed with the devil-child quieted, Brother Aubrey made his way to bind his hand under Sister Olivia’s care. Sister Olivia gave a pale faced, stark expression of similar fear to Sister Blanche as she left, closing the door behind her. Here in this room of the Sisters Convent in Entour, now remained fewer people with the situation under control. Father Demonte was cooing soft words to the devil-child as she glared with wild, gold eyes at her surroundings. He stroked the matted sweaty hair off her face with the tenderness of a patron…and a part of Sister Blanche was almost jealous…after all he was a handsome man and talk about his blessings was often amongst the women here, though none would know the Head Sister herself thought as much and that feeling grew every day. By the doors two other Brothers stood, concerned brows bent, one passing his prayers on to the Lord for guidance in this situation. Sister Eloise simply stared in awe at the devil-child a hint of sympathy in her large, beautiful green eyes, but this did not surprise Sister Blanche, Eloise was always a soft woman. Perhaps Blanche may have been that way once, but she’d seen too much now and was well near her late 50’s now, unlike the rest in this room. Sister Eloise took notice of Blanches nervousness and reached forward to squeeze her hand, “If the Father has the will, we have the faith…God has all the miracles in the world to bestow upon his children…even this one.” Sister Blanche looked long at Eloise and ran the tip of her tongue over her dry, nervous lips. “Yes Sister, I believe. I just fear for the safety of those around her and the child herself…mad eyes at the world she has…I could not know what pain has brought her down so far.”

Sister Blanche picked up her quill, daubed it within the ink pot and began to write as Father Demonte began to speak with the girl. Right away it was obvious these two had spent a good deal of time together, a relationship of friendship perhaps was well in the making. Sister Blanche only hoped continued progress would be made. There was little time before the girls’ trial after all, the Father was lucky to extend it to 2 weeks. In the way no human could coax a butterfly to come from its cocoon before its time, he coaxed her to calm and steady. To feel safe and more still, to begin to tell of her upbringings. The first and most important part of the study should the Father ever reach succession of his thesis and prove it fact. Perhaps there was hope for this study after all. Sister Blanche looked to the Father a long curious moment before coming to a conclusion, he did not want to be famed as a wise man for his studies, instead he truly did have a heart to help this girl and from there, many more like her. She closed her eyes to focus a moment, then adjusted her reading spectacles and began to write as her story unfolded.

“Study Journal of the Patient: Claire Bélanger, 1849.

Day 1

She’s darkness incarnate…I fear just to be in the room with her. Madness is clear within her eyes! Does not everyone know the stories?? Today marked the beginning and I fear should we ever reach the end my own soul will be tarnished. Father God, protect me from the demon that possesses this child. Today, however, we learned about her rather normal noble woman’s past. The daughter to a respected governor of the Val de Marne district in France. The second to youngest daughter in a large family who had a habit of looking up to her rather outlandish aunt. An author, this aunt, one I believe is noted for a lot of scandalous works that bring much unneeded attention to feminine rights. A dangerous woman to model oneself over, and so I believe it is why they organized an early marriage for this girl. At just 10 years of age, she was being brought to the spring balls, the gallas and had made herself a match by 13. Perhaps a little sympathy to a girl so young and expected of so much. Till she bites me again, i feel a small pain of remorse.

Day 2

My remorse for the girl has failed me, I’ve learned that there is honest truths to the infamy revolving around this demon child. At just 18 years of age, she has been through 3 husbands, the first who’s circumstances are most bewildering. Chilling, really. She speaks about witchcraft. Blood rituals and demons in her home, all worshiped by her husband so she had to kill him to stop him. All the while I keep insisting she’s mad, the Father presses on, wanting to know more about these demons, asking again and again about their nest… Does he believe her? Or is this a form of helping her? I don’t know anymore. I’m afraid he’s become to close to her, the way he watches her, the way only he can get her to smile. Has he forgotten about the family in Sienne? The one she butchered and laid them all in their beds? No…I have to have faith in the father, he knows what he does.

Day 3

Everything keeps coming back to her first husband, even after the tails of the murders she admits to revolving around her other 2 dead husbands. One laid with their children for final rest, the other she poisoned and swears she had to make the thresholds of all the house doors with his…body parts to keep the demons out. She’s a murderer, why are we trying to help this devil child!? We cannot excorcise her, we cannot let her back into the world! All the while Demonte pushes for more information on her first husband. We started to talk about him and his family. The Bouvier’s. She murdered him, and since the family has been out for her blood, especially that of his elder brother Frayne Bouvier. Claire keeps saying that The Bouvier want to silence her, silence her so the mask is never drawn back. The Father seems interested in this ‘mask’ and Frayne’s where abouts, of which no one is sure of anymore. What is he trying to unveil?

Day 4

My hand shakes to write this, it’s been a day of nightmares and shock. Frayne Bouvier appeared from no where…we just found him breaking into CLaire’s holdings. He’d have nearly murdered her too, if it was not for Father Demonte and his….arsenal of weaponry? I don’t know what has me more affraid, the fact a missing nobleman ripped the door of a holding room off in inhuman strength, or the fact this did not phase Demonte…and that he actually warded Frayne off and sent him running. Claire wont stop crying, and she mumbles none sense. This has been a great set back.

Day 5

we’re on the road…moving. Father Demonte says we’ll never be able to stop moving now that they had Claire’s scent. Who is ‘they’? The Bouvier? Why wont they wait for her trial in seven days time? Why in Gods kingdom does blood run so thick and vile between these two families? And why, God why, are we putting our lives at risk for a murderess???

Day 6…

The words written by the Late Sister Blanche shall not receive further pages penned in her hand. I carry this on, not as a Priest, not as a man, not as a doctor, but a Hunter. To the Society of Leopold, if you should find this, you will know I have failed to root them out in full. My only lead, should I fail, I shall assure is also dead. Take this as reference, move on…fight the good fight, and be aware that in the world of the damned, ours is a holy cause.
~Demonte

Fierre Bélanger

Twin City Nights beckmcg