Bright Lights, Bloody Nights, Big City: Vampire Game Thread

[Josh]

He smiled confidently.

"He's out in the cold right now," he said. "He ain't the only motherfucker with pull in this town," he continued, falsely attributing the circumstances to his own influence. "And he took a shot at me. Now he gets what comes to anybody who comes after me."

There was an insane gleam in his eyes as he spoke the final words in a voice barely above a whisper, not to Sammy, but to himself. "Anybody who comes at me, I burn 'em out..."

[imperfect vision]

"Cassie...and Rose?" He wondered if the Malkavians had dipped their fingers into her head, but left it at that. "Rose it is." He set things aside to help her re-establish their temporary haven. "So does Cassie sing only the latest jazz, or can she belt out somethin' else too? A li'l more refined,a little more homey..?"

[Bratty]

Rosemary puts up the curtains and then settles down, making a pallet for herself nearby, ignoring the unimportant question Holden asks.

"I need to rest. Is there anything else you require of me?"

Cassie frowns. "But he wanted me to sing." And feels nothing but cool resolve from Rosemary. Rosemary is not letting either Mary or Cassie out again tonight. She is streamlining the process for more efficiency, and taking control of the body, letting the others out as she desires, like releasing air from a valve under pressure before placing the valve back on.

[Cynical Cat]

"Jesus," said Sammy. "Okay, but you're not going to find him that way. You really are out of fucking touch. We go down to the yard and talk to the guys on duty. They'll tell us where to find more people that know Cargo."

[imperfect vision]

"Hmm.. Nope. Get some rest, soon we make our apperances, then slip out for a quick meal." He rights a few knocked over knick-knacks, and pulls the dresser in front of the door again. Holden finds a comfortable spot to lay on. "You don't have to lay on the floor, miss." He yawns, and scratches his stomach, letting those greens slowly close.

[Josh]

He considered that, then snagged the money clip off the table.

"Sounds good to me. Let's do it."

[Bratty]

But she does in any regard. Her body changing, racked with pain. She needs a harder surface to sleep on. She feels the pull of the day time for the first time, combined with the experiences for her first night, she is absolutely exhausted. As soon as fatigue and instinct sets in, she sleeps harder than she has ever slept when she was alive.

[Charon]

Marcus knocked on the door. "I know someone's in there. I'm looking for information. I hear this is the place to be to get said information about things of our stature.

[Cynical Cat]

The great hub of America's transportation network never sleeps. Trains roll in and out of Chicago at all hours of the day and night. There are always men working. Mechanics, engineers, baggage handlers, cops, ticket agents, janitors, and more.

More than a little illicit business happens in the twilight hours. Chicago has no desire to be a dry city and illegal liquor has exasperated an already serious corruption problem. Wright's operations are a mere drop in the bucket of Chicago's smuggling and bootlegging. All those operations exist do to the compliance of men who work here, compliance usually obtained with money, but occassionally by threat.

Wright is more mob boss than union man. He knows only a few cronies, insulated from the world with his endless parties. If he was mortal, even with Sammy along they wouldn't get anywhere. But Wright isn't mortal and he possesses powers that can lever the lid to the treasure chest wide open.

Sammy points out likely looking people. Wright's supernatural powers of persuasion are almost impossible to resist. Those who don't know where to look give the names and locations of those who probably do.

So Wright finds out that Cargo brings in vans to pick up his goods. Some people know which direction they've moved. Some are deeper in and let things slip to Wright. By the time dawn nears, Wright has the location of Cargo's warehouse, far on the outskirts of trainyard.

[Cynical Cat]

A voice comes through the door. "We're closed buddy," he says to Marcus. "Go home."

[Charon]

Marcus pursed his lips. "Alright fine." He began walking around the complex looking for another enterance.

[Cynical Cat]

It takes Marcus very little time to find an back door that is unlocked. Inside there is a watchman with pump action twelve gage on his lap. He stands up, gun in hand but not pointing at Marcus. "Haven't seen you before," he says.

[Charon]

Marcus smiled. "Haven't had a reason to stop by. But like I said, I'm trying to get information on some people. I was told that this is the place to find the people who know by Diane. And from the looks of it you work for 'em."

[Cynical Cat]

"Okay," says the guard. "Pop quiz: Who's the Sherrif and what color is his hair?"

[Charon]

Marcus shrugged "Hans, dark brown complete with a nice goatee. And as a pre-empt, Yekka Arslan's the neighborhood scourge."

[Cynical Cat]

The man smiled. "The bosses want that question answered, they get that question answered. He walked over to a speaker and hit the button. "A guy by the name of Marcus for you." He turned back to Marcus. "Anyone you want to talk with specifically?"

[Charon]

Marcus thought for a moment. "Whoever knows about the goings on in the rail yards."

[Cynical Cat]

"Railyards," he shouted down. A moment latter, voice answered back. "Send him down."

The guard turns back to Marcus. "Go through the door, take the left branch of the corridor, keep straight 'til you hit the stairs. Go down to the bottom."

[Charon]

Marcus nodded and headed down that way. He looked around the place as he walked. Pretty respectable place... for the Nosferatu. He got to the stairs and made his way down. Reaching the ground Marcus turned around and looked for his host.

[Cynical Cat]

The depths of the sub basement was not empty. A man in shabby, but clean, clothes greated him and said, "Follow me." Marcus was taken to modest room with an old appolstered couch and two stuffed chairs. It strongly resembled a break room.

"My master will be with you shortly," the man said and left. Two and a half minutes latter a figure nearly seven feet tall entered the room. He was skeletally thin and painfully gaunt. His bones seemed to jut out at odd angles underneath his skin. He was clean though and not bad smelling. He smiled at Marcus, revealing a mouthful of jagged fangs.

"I am Broken Stick. You wished to speak."

[Charon]

Marcus returned the smile, repressing the small shiver that threatened to pass down his spine. Even the good-looking ones looked bad. "Yes, I'm looking for two people. One is Cargo, the other is a blonde man who may have taken up residence in the rail yards."

[Cynical Cat]

"There are many men in the railyards. Blonde is not nearly a good enough description. And if you wanted to find Cargo, you should have said that."

[Charon]

Marcus shrugged, should've figured. "He'd have only come in a few days ago. Came in on a beat to hell car. He's a ghoul. As for Cargo, before you get into details I'd like to know what this is gonna cost."

[Cynical Cat]

"You should have your friend Wright check into this. Talking to juicebags about who arrived when is not our strength. As for Cargo, the cost will be considerable. He may overextended himself, but he has made himself useful. Wright hasn't. You'll need considerable payment to convince us to assist you."

[Charon]

Marcus nodded. "Well for one there is the fact that Cargo is on his way out. Even if his death is followed by Wright's, Cargo is still a dead man. It's really just a matter of when. Beyond that I'm in good with Wright and I can see to it he turns his efforts towards something you would find more useful, if you tell me what that might be. Beyond that what kind of payment are we talking? Knowledge, money, or a very large boon?"