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Las Angeles

  • Was embraced sometime in the 60's by Gaia Ater , a Daeva of the Circle of the Crone. Their cult the "Pax Romana" kept to the outskirts of Claremont, in the San Gabriel Mountains.
  • Stella would have been known then as Stella Astra or Stella Ater. If her sire was displeased the name Lucifer came up.
  • It became known that her sire would disappear from time to time, years at a time. She always seemed to reappear when Stella was loosing interest in being "Gia's Gardener", playing too much on the Strip. There was speculation about this pattern and Stella's constant status within the Crone as a member of the Chorus and not a full Acolyte.
  • The Bacchanalia - lavish party thrown in the 80's where Lacrima freely flowed. It seemed to last the entire decade.
  • Stella has a love of cars and engines. She earned a reputation as one who could repair most things. For a price.
  • Stella earned a reputation as a Lacrima supplier beginning in the mid 90's. For a much higher price.
  • Perfume Fragrance: Lolita Lempicka or Eternity


The Standard Lineage


April 14, 1935 BLACK SUNDAY

They called it Black Sunday. The day the great dust tornado blocked out the sun. Tellus was angry. Her fields were barren and burying all who had defiled her. The Crone had come to claim a sacrifice. All signs pointed to the Lorenz Farm. They still had cattle. And Tellus required the blood of a pregant cow for the festival of Fordicidia. She found a skinny one still alive in the dust covered barn. Gravid. This sacrifice would be a mercy.

The Crone knocked upon the farmhouse door seeking shelter. She had been leaving Oklahoma for greener pastures she said. “The Black Rollers buried the farm. They buried my husband.” But the storm caught her. She said.

Once inside, she found ‘The Missus’ in labor. The panic of that day sent the missus into early labor. It was a blizzard of dust so thick it darkened the sky to pitch black. Dust forced itself into the small farmhouse twice during the worst of it. Each time, her father scrambled to block up the cracks under the doors. Breathing was a blessing.

She did everything she could to forestall the birth to just the right moment. For a while it seemed as if she had managed to secure an even greater sacrifice. But the infant insisted. Well before midnight she drew her first breath. Both Mother and Child would have died were it not for her blood.

She told them she was lucky to have found their farm. Her father claimed it was a miracle. For his family as well as the midwife. The Crone would tell the childe the full story years later. She added that the mister’s words spared his life. A man that could recognize a miracle was a man worth keeping around. She Marked the infant she ushered into the world instead.



1965

Stella performed the sacrifice. She slaughtered the pregnant cow for Tellus. Nothing.

Oh sure, she learned some insight into the nature of death, but her human soul paid the price. To say her sire was disappointed was an understatement. Lucifer was carved in her back. The other acolyte held her down. There was worse. Punishment? Tribulation? Whatever.

When she arose that night, her sire was gone. She left only three instructions: Keep the garden flourishing; tend the Civics Club Cult; and remain a maiden. When Gaia's absence became obvious, and Stella's own release became apparent, unlife became a true challenge.


1980

Stella was enjoying her requiem. For fifteen years no old crone to fuss and feed. Plenty of votaries to do the heavy lifting. The Garden was just right. Her work with "The Claremont Civics Club" provided a valuable contacts that kept her small fief well ordered. Safe. She could navigate the streets without running into thugs. Her lover was entertaining. Rich. She'd not had to get her hands dirty with anything that compromised her Maidenhood. Habits set in. All seemed well.

It was a surprise then when Gaia returned. The chains were renewed. Gaia was pleased that Stella had passed her test. As a reward Gaia tought her the secret of the mandrake. Together they made lacrima. The Bachanalia had begun. Lacrima was the only fitting offering. It did ease the annoyance of servitude.


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