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| Dr. Lana Arkadyevna Zamolodchikova | |||
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Dr. Lana Arkadyevna Zamolodchikova is a Mekhet of the Ordo Dracul, all here represents OOC information.
I hold a deep belief that today the achievement of practical immortality becomes a topical issue, because at last there is a real scientific basic for achieving it. - Igor Vladimirovich Vishev Immortality Institute
Contents |
A Life in the Cave: The Mortal Life
1918
The writing was on the wall, and father and mother saw it. The Civil War that had gripped Russia was something that I would never see. But the reverberations I would feel even to tonight. Father, Dr. Arkady Vladomirovich Zamolodchikovich and mother Yevena Ivanova Zamlolodchikova left as soon as they could. They told me that this was something of a harrowing journey across the sea. But that, is neither here nor there.
The Bolcheviks took the land of my forefathers only a few years later.
1919
September 17th, I was born into the world. Into a land that still saw me and my family as something of an outsider. Maybe they were right about Mother and Father. They couldn't exactly speak English as well as I would. And the thick dulcet tones of the accent held with them until I died to them. If it matters to you, I was something like six pounds and eight ounces. We'd always be the outsiders. Living in tenement shelters of the former Old Town. It would become rather crowded in our small apartment. We'd always be rather feared or hated. We were always the 'other.'
Oh, and by the way - my birth certificate didn't get the Russian Naming system. Officially my last name ends with a -kovich.
We ignored that.
1924
Even though the Child Labor Amendment of 1924 was passed, it would be another two years before it would be ratified in Virginia. At least we got a bit of public education, for whatever that was worth. I went to work at one of the textile factories doing menial jobs during the day. And one of the public school teachers would begin to teach basic skills. I was only four years old at the time. They needed the small fingers to work the looms.
At the same time, Father decided that this education (rightly enough) wasn't good enough and decided to teach the growing brood himself. He was smart incredibly, and I decided that I paid him back by translating between Russian and English for him. He was a good teacher, though I wonder how well he was at teaching young children. I'd go to the factory sleepy as he would wake us early after he returned from his jobs and would teach us by the morning light. I was sleepy and it led to near-accidents at the looms. But I don't think I ever told my parents.
1926
The Child Labor Amendment of 1924 approved. I couldn't keep working in the factory anymore. It actually hurt the family. Father never did show it; he couldn't get a career as a Physician. Again, no Hospital in the area would hire him. He was Russian. They were Communist. Instead, there was day labor and later on the factories and construction. He languished under that, and he'd come home worn and tired. He never complained. Mother did the same.
1931-1938
I was eleven by the time I finished Crime and Punishment. I also learned quite a lot of mathematics. And this did not go unnoticed. Though the first who did were my classmates, and not my teachers. Who, again, didn't believe that this Russian was able to do articulate such things before the obviously superior Americans. Those Americans who showed their appreciation from taunts and would throw rocks at me until I'd run home. Father, old and worn from being a cog in the wheel for most of his time took pleasure in teaching his daughter the education he believed she should have.
By 16 he was teaching me basic biology and chemistry; using housing cleaning products to do experiments while the rest of the family was asleep. At 18 I was doing more advanced organic chemistry and father beamed it seemed, beamed at me and allowed me to help to teach some of what would become jokingly as 'Family Education Hour.'
Father fully bought into the notion that if he worked hard he would see the opportunity the milk and honey that, to me, was already sucked dry by others. Anyone I realized later, could indeed transcend. But for now Father was a slave. A slave to the American Dream. A slave to the jobs he went to. I suppose not unlike myself for a time.
1938-1940
However, it was still too early for a girl, let a lone one of those no good Russians to enter Medical School and was refused entry. It was a friend of Father's, an American Medical Doctor who once met Father before they arrived in this country, who took me under his wing. Dr. McCormick was impressed by his friend's aptitude for teaching the basics, and he'd teach me the rest. We'd sneak into city Morgues where McCormick had connections with the Medical Examiner and lectured about the Human Body how it all fits together. Something like those Russian Dolls' mother collected. I was impressed with the body, in all it's fragility, and perhaps as impressed as the Doctor was with my maturity of knowledge and the eloquence of my statements. At least, that's what he said once.
It was only a matter of time, and it wasn't long, before the Ghoul - Dr. McCormick - would tell his domitor. Especially, as his time was being taken up on some exercise. He was turning a blind eye, however, observant. Partly wondering at this young woman who was learning nay devouring the information that his ghoul had trouble sometimes . Little did he know, however, that it was this young twenty - something Russian whose mind was something of a devouring worm when it came to McCormick's teachings.
Incidentally, my studies had a price. I couldn't keep going about learning and not bringing food to the table. In a way, I felt bad about it. She needed to bring food to the table. I needed to bring money to the home now that she was old enough. At least, to take some of the burden off father and mother who were generally worn out from the textile mills that both of them worked at. This led to a conundrum. Continue with these studies that meant so much to father; so much so that he wouldn't tell Lana how much harm it would do if she wouldn't bring home money, or continued. I understood.
See, I grew up in the slums, in overflowing tenement housing that was reserved for the poor. Slaves, I called them, to the loom machines going day and night. Slaves to the manufacturing that drove business forward, keeping the rich and powerful living in the Amptons fat and happy. Pregnancy rampant by women who didn't want their babies was a powerful force. And so, I saw an opening - help them end these unwanted pregnancies, gain some money in the process as well as (and this was the most important part), put new knowledge to the test and learn a bit in the process. Let's get something straight, however, this was not out of some altruism that she wanted to give these poor women a right to hold over their bodies. It was out of an eternal knowledge seeking that would also in a sense gain some money.
It was here, that I began to be called Dr. Z.
Funny, I didn't really have my Doctorate for another decade.
This was dangerous work. The Comstock Laws of the time spread like wildfire from the state of New York which they originated. Back allies, inside of the tenement houses themselves, and in dingy dirty bathrooms of the factories themselves. It was here that I learned to be quiet, discrete and unseen lest I be arrested for 'immoral acts.' It was medicine in the trenches, bleeding women - dead babies. Birth and death impaled from women who did not and could not have them. They punished themselves for it, they punished the small unborn who only desired to live like biology intended. It was work. It got her me to the fringes of the Underworld, though there wasn't much of a desire from me to do anything else with it, really. I decided not to think of it really. And simply think of it academically, or thinking of where my studies were truly going. To not think of the children that were dying under my hand as, well, children. Reasoning, that the Quickening hadn't happened yet. And this was for the best. It was cold, maybe, but it got me through some of the more trying of times.
It's funny, sometimes, how time and the smallness of this City works itself out. Summer nights in 1939, were difficult. The nights were short, and there were a great many of them. I took to an empty tenement in Old Town to do as many as I could before the police could find them. Though, thankfully they always took care of the Heights and the Amptons more than the trenches. I'd come to know some of these women here and there. One stands out, mostly because of the nature we'd share later - Leila Callaway. I met her once, during these short nights and long lines. She was the last I was able to get to that night after some of the other regulars and scared lost looking women from the looms had come and gone. I'd see her again many times her bringing others to me who needed attention.
Humans can be improved upon, I postulated. They were so fragile, there was something that they could do. Just needed more time to understand some things.
To be sure, however, she was being watched.
1941-1953 (Spring)
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Which only seemed a point of contention for her male colleges. I moved through the studies quietly and with little to make herself noticed, while I continued on my double life to help to provide for my family. I nearly got arrested a few times in the process. In school, I also moved into studying the emerging field of biomedical engineering and genetics both fields didn't actually have a name then.
Finally, finishing my residency at thirty-four and truly becoming Dr. Z, my sire finally deemed me ready.
There was only so much you could learn in the state of the Mortal, he thought. And the first change, a small one, is enough to create a hurricane across the world.
It was another two years before he decided to be able to have the permission to embrace me.
1955 (Fall)
Dr. Lana Arkadyevna Zamolodchikova died one chill night in November, walking back from a job in a dingy back alley. This was after the aborting the 4 month old fetus of a street hooker; the fetus was given back to the hooker - it was their responsibility to bury their young after all. Suddenly as I was thinking of something else, I was attacked from seemingly nowhere and brought into an ally - brought into the shadows herself.
A Life Lived Darkly: The Requiem
1955 (winter)
Naturally, I gravitated to the covenant of my Sire. He had chosen well, it seemed, and overcoming human frailties became overcoming Kindred Frailties. I was, however, now a Slave. Though I had been one in a way all of my life; this was different. Knowledge, my sire told me, will free me in the end and my first cycle later on showed me the truth of his ways. I was skeptical then like most childer who are bewildered from the shock of becoming something else. I, like a few others of my cohort, railed against the title at first. I was done with being a Slave though it was half-heart-ed at best. I quite quickly quieted down. Some didn't. There aren't many of them left any more. The Black List would have some of their names later.
Father was a slave to the looms, grieving over the death and disappearance of his only daughter. My siblings, all brothers, could do very little to console him. I watched family dinners go on in silence from the street below, swathed in shadow. I only shook my head usually and returned to the Chapter House. There were things to do and attend to. Slavery was their way of keeping us from thinking over much about the life we have left behind. It allowed us a quiet dignity to continue on. This was why I quickly quieted down. Keeping erstwhile childer busy was easy when they were there to do the bidding.
I mourned silently but as I said, there wasn't much time to become despondent.
1957
The Tax breaks, I could say much about them. How they helped none and how they helped all. But as I am only a novice of the learning of Politics as a whole, it is hard for me to speak about them at length. It did however, provide an interesting experiment. That much I did quite appreciate.
Vander Corvus, a student of both politics and socio-economic issues was studying these subtle changes. He could tell you in much better detail all about the mishandling of the Corcosan economy than I could. A funny thing about him, we were born nearly at the same time - both times. A cohort of mine he is quite the mathematician and was quite interested in how this small change would mount up later on. He did get his wish, eventually. Mr. Corvus did however tell me, that we must pay attention to the mundane things. It was his way to speak to me at length at how books did not quite pay the bills the mortals would have us do.
Mr. Corvus taught me a bit of politics and the mortal ways of doing things before he got swept up in his own studies and his own businesses which assisted the Covenant well enough. Although I did not look it at the time, those words did carry with me. What was politics but yet another system to master like the intricate systems of the human body? External changes like economics were part of human frailty after all, not just from within. After all, a raging storm could come quickly after the beating of butterfly wings on the other side of the world. We could over come uncontrolled change such as that as well... Then, however, I was quite content to leave it to his work.
1963-1967
My sire was different from the sires my cohorts had during their own slavery. Mine, did not dive head first into chasing the Dragon's Tail or finding their way down the coil. He began with the mind. "Preparation of the Mind, was akin to preparation of the body for transcendence above all frailties." He was more of an internist, he worked with the human psyche - the kindred psyche. He, as it turned out, sired me as a need for a physician to be more well-rounded in his approach. He needed a right hand man to come at things with a fresh mind. He also has an interesting way of looking at the kine.
- "Less complete beings than the Kindred are. Being a Kindred is a chrysalis in a way - changing from one to another. They are weak apart but together they are quite strong. And if they could overcome their individual weakness who knows what they could accomplish. But they can't for they don't have the tools, resources and time to do so. Which is why being a Kindred is another piece of the puzzle to transcendence." -1964
As we looked upon the gleaming spires of glass and steel sparkling against the moonlit sky, he and I went through the gamut of mental preparation. It would not gain me status, he explained like some of the cohorts I was with already had, but it would prepare me for what I would come to see. I saw it's importance in time, though I was last to undergo my first Chrysalis, one or two went mad - lost to the dragon - within it. They were not prepared.
There was still attendees at the Midnight Masses, as did others of my covenant. After all, the Sanctified were still in charge of the city and while we were quite neutral about many things - at least I did not want to stand out. I went from time to time, as did a few others of my own covenant but if only to observe. It was too different from my own Eastern Orthodox upbringing to really care. Change was everywhere and I only needed to pay attention to see such things.
Finally, in 1967, I left slavery behind. Learning and undergoing my first of what would be more chrysalis to come. My sire was quite proud of me then; I remember sitting at a diner and speaking of mundane philosophy that night. No longer as Master and Slave, but as equals in the Great Work.
1969-1974
I believe this is where that Mr. Vander Corvus was completely swept up in his studies or his business though it could have been a bit before. The decline of the economy the merging of legitimate and illegitimate was an experiment in progress. I paid as much attention as I was able, but my own little work was taking up much of my time. Mostly, my little work consisted of kindred physiology and genetics and genetic engineering. I've always believed that the smallest change, be it within the inner-space or without, did in fact matter. The beating of a moth in the forest is what my sire called it, he was right after all. I began work on a thesis.
Roe versus Wade was decided during this time also, allowing many of the women who could to take their abortions away from those dingy factory bathrooms and back allies. Made my original profession somewhat obsolete. Well, for all but the most poor without health care. I still did them from time to time. Good ways of gaining some genetic information from the dead or soon to be. I always did liken the smallest of society the moth in the forest after all.
1976-1978
Old Town wanted to succeed and failed spectacularly. One of my mortal brothers led the charge with a few others...We, they, made the mistake many of the others did at that time. They were isolationist they kept themselves apart. And that which man does not understand or deign to understand are feared and hated as the 'other' as they always have been. My former home was crushed under the weight of Disco, Cocaine and Stiletto shoes.
I had watched Leonard Kovlov for a little while. And I remember speaking to Sire about a possible embrace. He cautioned and I had heeded that caution. A friend of my brothers, Leonard was more of an inventor. Not quite the front lines but he had a keen intellect and an eye for detail. Much like Faberge, but for more useful things. It was the disaster of Old Town that led me to speak to Johansenn again about a possible embrace. With the court's approval I hid amongst the shadows amongst the crushed ruins of Old Town, and snatched him into the Shadows myself.
The Pestilence came here, and my covenant and I strove to find the source of it before it consumed us all. This was a change that was not controlled, not monitored carefully and definitely not for the betterment of our kind. While the rest were rather stagnant, we were trying to find Patient 0. Meanwhile, the whole of society went mad.
The Underworld rose from their slumber and wished more from all of us. It was hard to see where the legal businesses began and where they ended. I suppose the legal businesses never existed in the first place. Maybe that's too hard upon the upper echelons of society. They are after all predators in the world of business. The Iron Masks made their arrivals. Heralding the arrival and the take over of the city we believed was ours. And Kindred began to disappear. At first, we did not really notice and then some of the upper levels of our Chapter House disappeared and then even we were worried.
1980-1987
The Black List, a product of my Covenant acting as Mercury between our Kind and this 'Consilium' of human wizards. Many of the Kindred I saw took the opportunity to get rid of their rivals. Some of my own disappeared though not of my own hand. I do not think they saw what they have wot upon the City then. I don't think they still see the full extent of what they have done. The Fourth tradition came of that. Imposed upon us almost as though a brand upon our flesh to carry like so much an arm band. Or yellow star. Much pain was brought because some could not overcome their baser predatory instincts.
My own sire's name was upon the Black List. Disappearing one day while I waited in the laboratory. I waited and waited, only going as far as a few streets to hunt during this time. Until, we knew he was gone. Alexander Castillo knew. And he and I spoke at length, they had been close once - and with my sire's disappearance, he had offered to teach me a bit of what he knew as well.
The Praxis of Jurgens was a disaster. And we stayed neutral.. I went happily back to my studies. I finished my first real thesis in 1986, I believe. Emerging Fields in the Human World took my attention after, studying it with vigor. Taking to these studies as a fish does with water.
Peace? All of the rich escaped to the Island of Money. A sinking ship of land and decadence like so much the Titanic. Many create their own prisons. And the island is one such well manicured beautiful cage that I doubt they see the bars of beyond the glittering gleam of it all. The first purge of Childer came and while I did not have any, at this point, some of my original cohort did. This was a change some of them were not ready to handle and to deal with. This was not some Dragon Scale to chase. Some took it hard, we were never a large covenant in the City.
Gulags, that's what you can call it. Artificial Gulags from men and women who wish to show their superiority over another. The Human Magi who decided without speaking to any, that we were to be corralled and placed virtually under glass. Prisons not made of gold. Terrariums, feeling like so much an experiment of someone else's. Makes me laugh just thinking of the audacity of it all and even a bit of the black irony beside. If it didn't make me laugh, I probably would just be as angry as everyone else would have been. Mr. Corvus had a whole rant of it though none listened to his words. Being from similar decent and similar times, I suppose we understood one another quite well.
1993-2004
The Mortals tried to expand, and fell into road blocks upon road blocks. Its something to look into with all the careful prudence once can muster.
Once more, like sheep to the slaughter, the childer are slain. I suppose the revenge being that one day we will kill one another and have no one to take our place. Insidious, I will grant them. Like the Invisible Hand of God coming down and continuously leaving his Damned bereft. To waste away and to go out with nothing so much as a whimper than a full on rawr.
The Praxis of Kien Zhao begins in 2002. A young man, sired by Alexander Castillo, one who was close to my own sire. There are breakthroughs in the tiny world of Kindred Physiology and Genetics and I am glad to have been at the forefront of such things. It was a time to take a proverbial deep breath and to look about oneself though. Even with the death of the North Docks Coterie, it was a wise move at least to keep members of the court in line.
The Jailers get their due here and there. Their 'Court' gets attended by someone. I have yet to do it myself, but I suspect they parade the poor sap around like so much an exotic animal.
2004-Today
There is not much to note during these times, but I finally believe I will take what I have learned and teach a new generation of the Order of Dracul, perhaps we should become more active in such things as the external change. Have a hand in that, controlled change rather than spontaneous change that we are surprised by is not our forté. This belief is why, in 200X I accepted when Prince Zhao appointed me as the Primogen of his court. Change should come in controlled measures, but one should not be hesitant. Things are moving quickly even for us. We should learn to keep up.
A family, A home
Lineage
- Ethan Aizenberg (1825 - 1937) Ordo Dracul (former Invictus) Master of the Carnal Hunger, Sworn of the Mysteries- Deceased
- Dr. Thomas Johansenn (1883-1980) Philosopher of the Elysian Curse, Sworn of the Dying Light Ordo Dracul - Disappeared
- Dr. Lana Arkadyevna Zamolodchikova (1955 - Present) Ordo Dracul
- Leonard Kovlov (1977 - Present) Ordo Dracul
- Dr. Lana Arkadyevna Zamolodchikova (1955 - Present) Ordo Dracul
- Dr. Thomas Johansenn (1883-1980) Philosopher of the Elysian Curse, Sworn of the Dying Light Ordo Dracul - Disappeared
Description
A mass of hair that falls just below her shoulders, forming unruly ringlets about her head like so much a corona. Usually, however, a barrette is used to hold the hair in place just behind her crown. A rather average looking woman, her ethnicity comes through in every curve and feature of her face. The height of her cheek bones, the sharpness of her features and the darkness and world-weariness of her eyes all give her away as Russian first and a person who has seen things people should never see second. Nimble fingers are usually meshed together on her lap in a look of perpetual calm. Though she meshes those fingers and un-meshes sometimes when lost in thought they are deliberate movements. Maybe it is a simple mnemonic to keep count or perhaps it is something else entirely. Simple utilitarian clothes are never ostentatious, in browns and tans, whites and other colors. She is however, rather thin. Never the less Lana does however, have what is called a 'Mona Lisa' smile.
Her voice is twinged with the diluted accent of a Russian-American adult. Rich and dulcet tones that suggest that perhaps with schooling she'd be a pretty okay Orator. She speaks with a gravitas that bespeaks that she has thought out what she has said in advance. She does not usually raise her voice, rather, she expects people to quiet down and to listen. She is not one for rabble-rousing. She is Mekhet after all, and she is one who speaks well of the quiet thoughtfulness of the Clan itself.
Little Works
Thesis
- The Beating of a Moth's Wings: Small Changes and their Role in the process of Transcendence.
Visual Aides
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These are visual aides that help in the description of the various items that Lana would be wearing, holding, using or caring for. Never ostentatious and usually somewhat plain they do their job, well enough.
Haven
OOC Resources and Availability
The TPO, is usually about during the day (depending on work obligations) but most of RP time happens during the Evenings EST.
