Tara "Diesel" Moonflower

Queen megabitch Fianna Ragabash. NYer for life. Inverts faces, remembers places, inks aces.


Tara is your worst nightmare on her bad side. On her good side…eeeh, she’s still a force of nature. A lifelong New Yorker, Tara maneuvers in the apocalyptic 1980s hellscape that is NYC as if she was always born to be there. She is friends with the strange and unusual. Trackbunnies, MTA workers, museum curators, cab drivers, garbage-men and punk junkies. She is a fairly famous tattoo artist and one hell of a driver. If you need to get somewhere in the city and fast, and if you’re Garou, Tara’s got your number. You need to know something about the city and its history, she’s got your number there too. You need something punched, broken, smashed or killed, the girl has your back. She’s a powerhouse. Messing with her is a terrible idea, she is hard as iron nails and just as mean.

Tara doesn’t talk about her home life much. Her dad is Garou, a Theurge, and last she heard he was lost in the deep Umbra. Possibly for good. Her mother is a star-child, a hippie. Supported the family as an independent artist and still has fancy gallery showings in SoHo (to which she shows up barefoot…). Her aunt Geraldine is a bit bats, but loves her poker games held with the Chinese women in Columbus Park in Chinatown. She speaks Mandarin fluently, and taught Tara quite a bit of it growing up. That and Spanish. Being an iron-worker, Geraldine worked with Hispanic migrants after the war, and NYC has always been a stomping ground for those immigrants. Spanish has helped Tara get along in many places.

Her current deed name, Diesel (Deez) came from an encounter where Tara tracked down and confronted a hellhole. A factory warehouse, run by the worst type of fomori and black spirals… big massive barrels of diesel and oil, used for pickling wolves after they were captured and slaughtered in the hundreds. Some just tossed in alive, some skinned, butchered and tossed in. She was discovered and wrestled into one of the vats by a dancer…and left for dead. As all her fur and skin were nearly seared off, floating down past dozens of wolf corpses, she exploded out of the vat in unmatched rage. In her frenzied fury, she slaughtered every soul alive in the building, and was discovered by her sept mates covered in gore and diesel fuel. For her feat, she earned the nickname. A handful of remaining wolves were returned to the wild. Tara still regrets she couldn’t save more.

In personality, Tara is fiercely independent unless you have earned her loyalty. She couldn’t give a shitting piss if you’re the biggest baddest Ahroun in the place, or how high your rank is. You have to earn her admiration. Galliard’s tales won’t do it, and neither will intimidation. She’ll take her licks for disrespect. Pain is nothing to her (as evidenced by the tattoos that cover almost her entire body). She hangs out with the freaks and geeks. The outcasts, and those without a place. As the Statue of Liberty says clearly thanks to Emma Lazarus,
_"Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles.

From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”_

Tara has a stanza from this famous plaque tattooed on her back, if you bother to ask. Her previous deed name was indeed Mother of Exiles, due to her habit of collecting wayward cubs and other Garou into the Sept on the Green. She has an enormous protective streak to those who inhabit her City and are Good towards it. It is said she has communed with City Father, Cockroach, Rat and Alley Cat despite not being a Theurge – her dedication to her city was noticed on many occasions by these city Totems. She has helped restore buildings, kill blights, save children, repair bridges, brought food to those in need. To her, the city is a living, breathing thing.

As far as the Litany, Tara is fairly traditional. Being a Ragabash though, she has her litany bending moments, or balks at certain traditions. But when it comes to being prepared, to being war ready, to being a fighter…Tara couldn’t be more traditional. All cubs need to see horrors. Scars are the marks of warriors. You fight the Wyrm. You fight the Wyrm. You fight the motherfucking Wyrm.


Tara "Diesel" Moonflower

Blood and Silver neojackal Boiler