Miranda Quentin

Advantages:
Friends On the Other Side-as a student of Spirit Thaumaturgy, Miranda has managed to fashion her favorite pendant into a perfect little home (or perhaps prison depending on the situation) for a not so corporeal ally.
Macabre Curiosity-Miranda’s devotion to the art of thaumaturgy grants her a +1 modifier to Science and Investigation
Life Water’s Edge-Miranda knows how to utilize her magic to gain an advantage and as such, +1 to a Discipline for one turn.
Disadvantages:
Smug Superiority-Cockiness is often the fault found in the young and ambitious and Miranda is no exception. From the moment of her embrace, her ambition has not gone unnoticed.
Insolent Childe-For all of Miranda's cleverness and drive, she is still hardly more than a girl in the eyes of Kindred society, and as such, is treated as one more often than she'd like. -2 to Intimidation rolls.

Thaumaturgy Paths:
Spirit Manipulation
Path of Shadowcrafting

Dominate

• Command
• Mesmerize

Auspex

• Heightened Senses
• An Ear for Lies
• Spirit Ties
• Ancestor's Insight

History:
If a person could live off of spite, Miranda would have surely been immortal. Born in 1973, Miranda has little memory of her early life. Only that it was the beginning of what would become years of being bounced around from shitty foster home to shitty foster home. All she knew about her mom was that she had been some drug addict with too many kids. The man she had been conceived with had most likely been one of her johns. Miranda never met her. She didn’t care to. Miranda learned to look out for herself, how to watch and learn the patterns of the other children she shared foster homes with, and how to ferret out their secrets. And in turn, how to gain control. It didn’t matter how long it took her, she always found what she was looking for, the one right thing, the one shameful piece of information that she could lord over her target’s head until the next home. Unsurprisingly, Miranda’s aggressive iron-willed nature did not make her popular with her peers.

In time, Miranda aged out of the foster system in the 1990s and found herself out in the real world out on her own, with no one to help her. But she had never been the type to lay down and die. An apathetic problem child, Miranda hardly had it easy, but between a shitty job at the local convenience store and some less than legal activities (usually theft, robbery, and blackmail), she was able to make do. Barely. But wanting to spite the people who said she wouldn’t make it on her own was a hell of a motivator.

One night, a peculiar deathly pale customer decided to be an ass during Miranda’s shift. Afterward she noticed him hanging around the area, seeming to write something down every now and then. Come the end of her shift, she trailed him, wanting nothing more than to learn a few dirty secrets should he pop in again. Taking him down just a tiny peg, a chip out of his ego with something he didn’t think anyone else could know. Miranda followed him until late into the night and watched as he squirreled something away in a cubbyhole in a back alley. Once she was certain he was gone, she investigated, discovering what appeared to be an ordinary journal. She took it back to her tiny cramped apartment. Oh, she found secrets, but definitely not the sort she had intended to find. Instead of embarrassing details about one’s personal life, Miranda found pages and pages of notes about blood and magic and scrawlings of how to advance within some secret society. And a name: Tremere.

What started as a morbid curiosity became an insatiable desire to know, bordering on obsession. Miranda found herself poring over the journal for hours at a time, staying up late into the night, drawn into the world of blood magic and secret hierarchies. She even went so far as to prick her finger in an attempt to recreate just a sliver of what she had found in those pages. No luck though. Miranda dismissed it all as the ravings of some cult, and yet she still found herself transfixed by the journal, questioning if it could possibly real. Two weeks had passed since the discovery when she returned home from work one afternoon to find a fancy note on her desk atop the journal. She had hidden it locked away in her drawer before she left that morning. And how had someone gotten into her apartment? Nonetheless, she read it. An invitation to come to the Tremere Chantry. She went that very night, journal in hand.

There, Miranda found herself face to face with a man who called himself the Regent. She was given a choice. Become one of the Tremere or die because she knew too much? Miranda did not hesitate to accept the Embrace. It wasn’t as if she had anything to lose. So began her new life as a neonate in the Pieramid.

The first year of unlife as Tremere had been grueling, and Miranda knew well just how often a fledgling failed, or took their own lives instead of continue to leave themselves at their superiors’ mercy. But when curiosity failed to sustain Miranda’s efforts to prove herself, spite did it for her. There were those that looked down on her for her “humble” origins. She determined to master all they threw at her just to prove them all wrong and show that she was more than worthy to hold a place among the Tremere. Since her Embrace, Miranda has thrown herself into the studies of thaumaturgy, devouring tomes and constantly experimenting with her own newfound abilities. In the present day, she is a force to be reckoned with, armed with knowledge and a willingness to do whatever it takes to gain more to strengthen the clan.