Po Fang

The straight-laced proprietor of the K-One Karaoke Bar


If you had to use one word to describe Po Fang, it would be “crisp”. With tidy business attire, trendy rectangular glasses, and a tight hair bun, she looks like what you’d find when searching for stock images of secretaries. Her words are clipped and direct, and while she’s not curt or rude, you get the distinct impression that she’s a very busy woman, and that you should probably get to the point.

She does have a code of ethics, in her way – she runs a tight ship and doesn’t abide anyone getting rough. She genuinely cares for her girls and will call down fury on anyone who tries to hurt them, but at the end of the day, work is work, and you have to earn your keep.

She plays things above board, pays her bills on time, and doesn’t touch gang disputes. She might kick your ass to the curb, but you’ll know exactly why.

She has a dislike of drug-dealers, but so far Antonio hasn’t done anything worth kicking him out for. She holds a healthy disdain for him, though.


Growing up in a lower-class household in Chinatown, Fang didn’t exactly have a head-start on the road to success. But unlike most of her peers, who wound up working dead-end minimum wage jobs, working the streets flogging cheap knockoffs, or falling in with the underworld, Po always tried to make it to the big leagues, and to make it there on her own two feet.

She worked her ass off, juggling two jobs in High School and still graduating with all As. She scrounged and saved in those early years, and with her earnings managed to get a Business degree from a college that didn’t advertise on late night TV. She got a job right out of the gate and pushed hard to save up enough to get a small business loan. In a shrewd plan to capitalize on the generally ignored flourishing socialite scene in Chinatown, she opened the K-One Karaoke Bar.

It was failing miserably. With overhead through the roof and not enough profits rolling in, she began to panic. She had worked all her life to make something of herself, to create a business that might help drag those around her out of poverty. She couldn’t go back to being the coffee-chasing intern. She had something that was hers, a house she had built from blood and sweat, and she couldn’t let go of it.

So she started talking to the underworld. Lucky for her, there seemed to be quite the demand for a hangout that wasn’t the backroom of some seedy restaurant. The loansharks only gouged her a little bit. A quick cash infusion and she was able to invest in some really wowing attractions. One of which was a brothel on the floor above the bar.

But just because Fang was working with criminals didn’t mean she was going to throw away the code she’d invested so heavily in. Both for the sake of her own soul and just because it was good business, she’s made sure to set some very strict rules to her people. She made sure her girls were treated right, paid her debts as quickly as she could, and wasn’t afraid to throw rowdy patrons out on their asses.

She’s got more than an inkling about the Vampiric community – she keeps the doctors on call, and not just for when someone gets a shard of glass to the face – but she doesn’t really want to get involved in politics. Crime lords may come and go, but everyone needs a good watering hole.

She only hopes that any new management will be similarly reasonable in their treatment.

Po Fang

The Good, the Bad, and the Dead Nemoy