Overview EditNelly Whitherspoon grew up on the streets of London. Her father deserted her and her mother when she was only six years old. Afterward, Nelly's mother tried to recapture her youth, flitting from man to man in the hope of finding one who would support her. some of her lovers, she discovered too late, were already married. Others took their own frustrations out on her, beating her up in front of Nelly. Nelly's mother eventually turned to drugs and alcohol to ease the pain of her loveless life. At last, she couldn't take it anymore. Nelly found her mother in the bathroom in a pool of her own vomit, dead from an overdose of barbiturates. At the age of 16, Nelly was alone with no means of support. Rather than live in a foster home, she ran away.
At first, she did not fare so well. She ended up prostituting herself in order to survive. Her youth and her beauty served her well. She found a position in a semi-respectable cat house. She worked there for two years, until one night, she kicked the wind out of a john who wanted more than his money warranted. Upset and angry that her employer would throw her out, Nelly put on her best dress and hit the streets again, determined to find herself a sugar daddy, that night or else...
In a seedy London bar, Nelly worked the room. As she got drunker and louder, her clothes strategically slipping here and there, Nelly ended up in the lap of a gap-toothed, round bellied, belching welder from York. He groped and she giggled; she asked for money and he dumped her on her ass. Then fate smiled. A handsome, well-bred gentleman helped her off of the floor. He wiped the mascara tears from her face and took her back to his hotel. He made her bathe and dressed her in a flowing white peignoir. Then he forced her to look, for the first time, at her faerie self, and Nelly remembered. It felt like she was coming down from a bad high.
Once she recovered from her Chrysalis, she could not have been more pleased. She spent hours gazing in wonder at her own beauty. New plans began to form in her head. Surely, with this, she thought, I won't have any trouble finding someone to care for me. She began immediately to insist that everyone call her Nuaella, her faerie name.
Her benefactor, the sidhe who had found her, taught her the fine manners of the courtesan, and she proved to be a quick learner. For a while, the two were lovers, Then Nuaella discovered Hawaii. She and her lover flew there together to visit his friend Menhiron. Her lover left with no hard feelings. He even visits her from time to time. In the meantime, Nuaella eats coconut and drinks mai-tais with Menhiron in exotic luxury. She feeds his ego and he takes care of her... quite well.
Under her fae mien, Nuaella has skin like porcelain. Her eyes, a striking blue, have specks of forest green and midnight blue running through them. Her hair hangs in natural ringlets all the way to her lower back. Its highlights reflect the sunshine like streaks of copper strung through her golden strands. Her features show her sidhe blood: high cheekbones and forehead, elegantly pointed ears, and small nose all point to her nobility.
She dresses impeccably, preferring shades of blue, green, and yellow. She views her outward appearance as merely another tool to achieve her goals. She will gauge her outfit to impress her chosen target and more often than not hits the nail on the head.
In her mortal seeming, Nuaella could be a model. Once she cleaned herself up, she acquired a certain elegance that enhances her natural beauty. Tall and thin, her practiced grace is a far step from the call girl swing she used to use.
Nuaella gets what she wants. She doesn't, however, stoop to pouting or tantrums or vengeance. She can so cleverly manipulate people, she rarely has to resort to such crude tactics; even then, she does it only if she knows it will work. She will use whatever resources she has at hand, including her body. She never feels guilty about any of it as long as things go her way.
Nuaella carries a chimeric dagger that her benefactor gave her to protect herself. Its jeweled handle has a compartment in which resides a tiny chimeric scorpion that she can release upon her target. To mortal eyes, the dagger appears to be a common stainless-steel table knife with a rose-pattern handle. The sting of the scorpion causes the victim to lose consciousness for a number of hours equal to 6 minus the victim's Stamina value.