Updated: 15 March 1999
Léa Nox
13th Generation Toreador

	Sire:	Maxime (1988)
	Nature:	Caregiver
	Demeanor:	Loner
	Humanity:	7
	Secrets:	*
	Status:	*
	Esprit:	**
	Elder Status:
	Anarch Prestige:	*
	Toreador Prestige:

Background:

                    Eléonore was soon attracted by the show-business. At eight, she already was a little star. Actress and singer, she always was supported by her parents when it came to increase her musical and artistic talents. She was a born artist, and nothing would prevent her to become a star.

Soon, destiny showed she was right. Often at the opposite of the tendance, her voice and her personality made her one of the greatest star singer of the seventies. No awards weren't given to her. She even tried movies, which became classics. Léa knew every side of the success. Every god and bad side.

If she was revered as a modern godess, her life was a total failure when it came to intimate relations. Everyone knew it. Everyone read it in the newspapers: Death of her first husband (overdosing). Her car crash, which alsmost cost her her life. Her love affair with half the richest men in the world. And, the most important, the death of her only love: Her child, killed by leuciemia in few months.

Something broke down deep inside her mind at the funerals of her child. She lost everything. Need for show, the strenght to live... The star disappeared from the flashlights. No one ever saw her alive again.

Closed and protected in her own ivory tower, the star started to drink, and started to increase in weight. Her closest friends could do nothing but see her in her autodestruction behaviour. Crying alone the death of her child, days and night in her room, laid on her bed, no matter the millions of letters written by all her fans who still loved her.

Léa Nox was slowly dying. Very slowly.

Thousands of fans met up in front of her mansion, hoping to give her strengh enough to live again. Her life became a story, then a song, then another. But nothing they could do reached her...

No one could do anything, but one... No one could prevent her from joining her only love, her child. No one but the Vampire.

He knew her stories from the newsparer he read with fascination. He knew everything abot her, had read everything, seen everything, heard everything. He was her greatest fan ever.

He had looked up to her windows, hoping like all the other fans she would show up, shouting ''Hey! It's cool! We continue for the better and forever!''. But the dream never came true.

Using his Obfuscate powers, he participated a fan's meeting: They had made a long human chain around the propriety. Every one has one candle, lighting the neighborhood with thousand little flames. A show of the love they felt for a Léa Nox.

A Heroimaniac, widow and childless Lé Nox.

The Kindred decided, then, to enter her mansion. He was looking for a top security system, bodyguards, everything that would bother him: But nothing. He almost felt he was entering a tomb. He visited the mansion, awed by the great and dark house, as if he was trespassing a sacred sanctuary of a mysterious godess, feeling himself sacrilegious.

The rooms seemed to be touched by her presence. Disks on the walls, photos... The intimacy of the star: The walls she lived within. If she still lived... It smelled death. Despair ruled there...

The Toreador felt fear: Fear of being disappointed. Fear of finding her dead... Fear of finding her barely alive. Would he discover a sleeping myth, or the fat body of a star drugged from head to toe? Should he take the risk of discovering the pale reflection of the images the tabloids gave of the star? To lose so the illusions the naive fans liked to live with? Or was it better remain her greatest fan, revering like the human godess he hopped her to be?

He found her in her room. She was there. The Star. The woman...

It was true, about her weight. And she was very pale, too, almost as pale as her Kindred fan. She was there, laid in her bed. naked feet, jeans and Ti-shirt. The Vampire came near her to see her face. She was staring the roof, wide-eyed, breathing calmly.

Her face seemed to so young in the photos, almost eternal. Without make-up, she remained beautiful, as the make-up wasn't the important part of this woman. The important was her voice. And her talent with violin, and other instruments.

Out there, fans had put one of her songs. Léa couldn't hear it, of course, but the enhanced senses of the Vampire could. At the feet of the bed, various objects. Used syringe, empty medicaments boxes. Alcohol bottle, almost empty. A deadly coktail, in the eyes of the Vampire. He came even nearer. She didn't reacted to his presence, when he removed his Obfuscate. She was sleeping eyes wide open. He knew she would die if he didn't help her.

He did...

When he took her, she whispered something. She was so fragile, so lovely.

The Vampire wanted her so badly he had to remain still for minutes to control himself.

And she survived.

Léa found at her side the stranger with the pale skin. Unmoving, beautiful, but almost to cold. She said nothing. There was nothing to say. He remained silent, too. The next night, and the nights after, he came back. Months passed. In some way, she felt she owed something to this young man, ''her greatest fan''. How many time did she heard this? ''Mademoiselle, I'm your greatest fan''.

This sentence made her furiour, even more when someone of her age told her ''Léa, I'm your greatest fan'', then he added ''since my youth...''. As if she never was young, but an immortal ''Léa''...

So, her greatest fan had saved her. He was very attentionned. He feared he was some of those men so much obsessed with everything that touched her they haunted every concert she did, no matter where or when. Still, this man appeared different. Sure of himself, sometimes absorbed in his own thought, but always the same. He wans't like the others fans.

But, after long thought, wasn't he the ultimate fan? Always caring, able to do anything for his passion? She wasn't really convinced by this reasonning. He fascinated her.

The Kindred knew it. He knew this curiosity could lead him to grave problems if he didn't made his choice. In truth, he knew what he wanted. He wanted her immortal. Because she was a fascinating woman, and because she was an artist with creativity even beyond his maddest dreams... And because he wanted to be with her... So simple...

Perhaps, inconsiously, the Kindred wanted her to be immortal, as her fans would imagine her forever. In some way, he wanted to pay an homage to those who, like himself, revered normal, mortal persons, who sometimes weren't worth the half the adulation they received.

He told Léa about his plans.

After all, nothing remained for her in this world. She took the time to think about it, to talk about it with her savior. But she was decided since the begining. She became a Vampire.

She entered easily the vampiric society of Paris. No real difference with the show-business society.

Beautiful, intelligent and full with talent and creativity, she quickly became despised by some influent circles. Some believe she and Elle, the Childe of François Villon, despise each other.

The Daughters of Cacophony were outraged by the Embrace of this singer whose voice could rival with theirs. In the end, even Ivan entered the arena: An immortal star was a nightmare for the Masquerade.

It got beyond any possibility of peace the night she criticized the Kindred society as a whole: Her Sire took it personnaly when she attacked the organization of the Clan Toreador. The Sire treated his Childe with contempt, criticizing her, her past life, her personality. Léa heard it without saying a word. Eyes narrowing, jaws contracting. When the Sire finished his argument, she simply said ''Good bye". They never talked to each other since this moment.

Since this night, Léa joined the Fugueurs Anarchs of Paris, trying be as discreet as possible. She hoped her fame would decrease with the time, but the phenomenon increased with her mysterious vanishing. Her tragic life became objet of legend. Teens started to revere her life, and among them, the Goth-punks.

Her life started to appear, painted on walls. They came to her house a muslims went to Mecca. The worst is that no one was sure about her death. Tabloids started to speculate about her disappearing. Some even wrote she had been seen, there or there.

Léa stays in the shadows, but kept her love of music. She fears to play any instrument, though, as she fears the need to go on scene will overwhelm her. But she fears, most than everything else, her own feelings. Her feelings hurt her more than anything else in the past... feel

Destiny

                    Unknown.

Appearance:

Age:	45	Hair:	Black (Blonde)	Height:	1m63
Apparent Age:	~30	Eyes:	Black (Green)	Weight:	...
Date of Birth:	1953	Race:	Caucasian	Sex:	Female
RIP:	1988	Nationality:	French	Esprit:	**

                    Léa is a woman of medium height, with jet black hair colored in blonde. Her large eyes (almost too large) are green, but L�eacute;a wears black-colored lenses. She has sensual, full lips. Her nose ends slightly upwards, giving her a mischievous air. She appears to be five years younger than her mortal age, and is full of energy (some would add she has her bad moods). But she sometimes, when thinking herself alone, let appear somewhat saddened, child-like features on her face.

Role Playing:

                    She is a perfectionist in her art, and it goes beyond obsession. Critcizing herself, as much as others. Few things are more boring than Politics, in her eyes, but she has a sharp tongue when it comes to talk about the Camarilla. In every other case, she appears as Blasée, at best...

She never talks about her life, trying to evade the subject. Talking about the death of her childe is sure way to end the discussion (and bring bloody tears to her eyes). Always discreet among the public.

Notes:

                    More an autarkis than a Camarilla renegade, Léa have few relations with any one. Her beauty, and her natural gift (her voice) lead her to be loved by a romantic Toreador. Léa was a star, and Ivan never likes this kind of breach of the Masquerade.

When Léa disappeared, a curious effects appeared within the minds of some of the more sensible (mentally weakened?) mortals: She became a myth. Her face was painted on the walls. Tabloids and even more serious newspapers wrote about her, and the rumours of her apparitions. All this made her a myth of the streets of Paris, a modern Esmeralda, a gothic and romantic ghost. Some formed cults where her memory was revered, rivaling some semblable cults adoring Jim Morrison's memory. It was told she has the gift to walk unseen among people.

Anyway, she is rarely seen, and it seems to get even rarer as time passes.

Actual Aim:

                    None, apparently.

Rumours:

• Léa Nox is alive! (True: unalive would be even more true)

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