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

[Bratty]

She is punched across the room and lands with a sickening crunch. She gets up. The Elders are too busy having tea and crumpets and watching the other vampires dance to listen to her tale of a large, hairy monster in the railyards. Or to glean any information from for that matter. She nods her head respectfully and turns to leave. An old word of advice from mortal kin flitters around her head. A lady is defined by her grace. Rosemary finds the thought quite amusing.

Sure her jaw hurts, but she won't let that son of bitch see.

She will make him feel it though. When he least expects it.

She makes her way to the back door she came from.

[Cynical Cat]

A man puts his hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright?" He's dark haired, handsome, and impeccably dressed.

[Comrade Tortoise]

That creature in the religious mock-up again...

"Fancy running into you here"

"Believe you me, it has been a night for unexpected meetings. Of many kinds."

"Something bothering you?"

Nathaniel lets out a short humorless laugh. "Hah! "Something" indeed; you see my good sir I have just escaped my first run in with those wolf men that supposedly haunt the wild. Tore the face off another kindred I had also happened to meet before I could turn the other way."

Almost unconciously he strokes his mask with his index finger, feeling the contours of his face that wasn't.

"The locals didn't seem to care a whit about it though." He says this with some slight disgust, less than usually impressed with the powers that be right now.

"What of you? I can tell you are kindred, yet you wear the cloths of a priest; that seems a little... curious. No?" He says the last words with a hint of a deeper meaning; the answer is more important to him than the mere words suggest.

"Heh" the priest chuckled
"I was a man of God in life, and I try to be in death. Though, there are certain realities ne cannot excape, such as the need to feed. So... I take a more.. aggressive approach to doing the lord's work."
He thought for a moment in silence before continuing

"Something very... special... ust be going on for them not to care of a lycanthrope stalking the city..." he said, musing to himself on what it could be.
"The only thing that could be more important than that are political matters... I dont associate uch with kindred society WHich kindred ws attacked, and is there any news from Elysium I should know about?"

[The Silence and I]

"Heh" the priest chuckled
"I was a man of God in life, and I try to be in death. Though, there are certain realities ne cannot excape, such as the need to feed. So... I take a more.. aggressive approach to doing the lord's work."

Nathaniel looked deep into the creature's aura as he said this, hunting for signs of the lie he expected to find. Coming up short he was faced with the possibility this one was speaking truthfully. A disturbing thought for him, but not so much as the whisper he tried to ignore:

Watch the hypocrite and learn. See any parallels?

He shivered, very slightly. And then his mind was calm.

"Something very... special... ust be going on for them not to care of a lycanthrope stalking the city..." he said, musing to himself on what it could be.
"The only thing that could be more important than that are political matters... I dont associate uch with kindred society WHich kindred ws attacked, and is there any news from Elysium I should know about?"

"I wouldn't know; I left without trying to find news. I don't care for the place."

[Bratty]

A man puts his hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright?" He's dark haired, handsome, and impeccably dressed.

Rosemary feels the urge to throw this man's hand off her shoulder. She's an abomination, and her species has rejected her. Is she all right? Define the word. She represses the instinctive hiss in her throat. That is the way of Mary, and Rosemary is not given to emotions or temper. She must study this reaction for later; this must be what they call - frenzy, or at least lead to it.

Instead, she takes one of her talons and snaps her jaw so that she can at least talk, rushing blood to heal.

Calmly, she looks to the hand, and then to the man. "There is a very hairy monster, about twice the size of a man or more, in the railyards. Those more powerful than I stood against it and fell. Do with this information what you will. I must feed now."

[imperfect vision]

Holden studied the request, and then stood at the foot of the bed, watching Marcus. For a while.

An uncomfortable and extremely anxious while.

Watching the blood pool on the bed, soaking the mattress, the currently-useless legs stretched out before him. The grimy dirt of the railyards coating Marcus' clothes.

The Ventrue appeared to be weighing options. Eyes turning to glowing green pools of possibility, even those pearly-white fangs extending.

And then a slow, rustic smirk crossed his lips, and he walked towards the door. "Yer no good to me like this, Marcus. Cool yer heels."

the door creaks ajar, the graceful footsteps passing through... another pause and then the door returns to its previously unopened state.

[Charon]

Marcus cursed and tried to move. He didn't have the blood he needed to even heal enough to stop the bleeding, let alone fix his back. There was a crashing sound as Marcus rolled himself off of his bed. Struggling forward, his fingers clawing into the wood floors and breaking off splinters into his flesh, the undead creature moved forward until it reached the door. Raising his arm Marcus realized he did not have the leverage to open the door. He gargled out a howl of anger.

[imperfect vision]

Marcus is left there for what seems like forever. Probably forever and a day, given his condition, but if there's a clock in the room about an hour and fifteen minutes passes before he hears voices, footsteps. A mirthful gaggle of victims. If Marcus is particularly attentive and not trying to eat his way through the door, he'd hear a distinct female, a male, and the recognizable swagger of Holden's voice.

Heavy footsteps approach the door, the overwhelming scent of giddiness fills the air.

[Charon]

Marcus had resorted to chewing on the door with his fangs when Holden had gone. Still not totally in the right frame of mind he had believed himself abandoned. Had he a mouth he'd have cursed those that had brought him here. Marcus's gnawing stopped as he heard footsteps.

Prey.

Marcus quickly moved away from the door, heading to the right of the door so that when it openned he would have a clear shot at the voices. His mind screamed for blood, his eye watched the door intently. Let them come.

[imperfect vision]

The heartbeat intensified as the door slowly opened. The healthy hand that held the doorhandle coursed with lifesblood, very warm in the Lasombra's field of vision. The blue eyes that followed missed the vampire entirely, unsuspecting. The ritzy smile was disrupted by words, gentle cooes, apparently expecting something else.

"The doc downstairs said there was something interesting in here for me."

He took a step in. And the disrupted sheets caused him to look around.

And discover the true meaning of horror.

[Charon]

Marcus waited and watched from his place on the floor as the man came in. He waited for the step inward and then reached out and grabbed the man's ankle, with a quick twist the ankle snapped, with the tug that followed the man went down to the ground. Marcus scurried forward on his hands, pausing only long enough to close the door again before he was upon the man's neck and drinking thirstily.

As Marcus finished his meal, his wounds had stopped bleeding, and a portion of his jaw had returned. With a satisfied grin Marcus tried to slurp up any of the blood he may have missed. With blood in his body again, the beast had been subdued. But it would take much much more before he would be healed completely.

[Cynical Cat]

The man nodded. "Lupines sometimes come into the railyards. The prey is nothing but derelicts and the furries make it lousy feeding territory, even if prey is easy to find. That's not news to the high and mighty, its bad luck. Sorry about that. The name's Tony. I hope we can help each other in the future."

[imperfect vision]

Marcus hears rampant giggling from the downstairs area. It appears the second course of his meal is running off with the chef, or something to that effect.

Holden is actually slaking a little bit of his own thirst. The victim's fiancee, it turns out; on his lap with her back to him, fangs deep in her neck. She's got one of those flimsy flapper's dresses that are the style. He drinks slowly and noisily from her, but the ecstacy of the kiss laid thick with Presence absolves what would normally be fear.

Besides, she won't make it out, more than likely.

[Bratty]

The man nodded. "Lupines sometimes come into the railyards. The prey is nothing but derelicts and the furries make it lousy feeding territory, even if prey is easy to find. That's not news to the high and mighty, its bad luck. Sorry about that. The name's Tony. I hope we can help each other in the future."

Rosemary regards him a moment. "Tony, is it? You know what I see as bad luck? An infestation. If you allow one cochroach to breed, you will have millions. If there is a creature like this, there will be more. How long do you think it will be until this, all of this," She gestures around, "is subject?" Her lips twist in a curl. "Have a good night, Tony. Enjoy the party."


And with that, she leaves the Elysium.

[Cynical Cat]

Tony shrugged and went back to the party. At least Jason had been smart enough to know he was ignorant.

[Bratty]

Rosemary left the Elysium, keeping by the shadows. If she had been Mary, she would have tried to burn Elysium down. Every single one of those arrogant, egotistical short sided vampires deserved to die. Every...single...one. Rosemary knew she did not much. She was not egotistical. But she did know that killing machines are not really helpful to this "Masquerade" or "Domain" that she had drilled into her head by the Ventrue. A bunch of those who were much older, wiser, and stronger than her, hiding and giving up territory because they don't want to deal with it.

Absolutely unfathomable.

Had she announced her bastardization by being embraced out of "wedlock" or permission of the Prince, they would have jumped all over her.

No choice now. She will have to return to the Ventrue. At least he makes sense.

In the night, she carries herself, grabbing a mortal in an alleyway, and leaving them alive as the Ventrue taught her. She makes her way to the old, abandoned, rotting house the Ventrue and her shacked up in. She waits.

[Josh]

His fingers clawed up from the soil as he emerged from the safe womb of the earth for the night.

The lights of the city blazed out at him. Chicago.

The Camarilla had grown lax and complacent, believing that their foes would destroy themselves, as the Sabbat once more threatened to tear itself asunder.

But the war had culled the weak, and once more the Sabbat cast its eyes toward the jewels of the New World, the cities that had been theirs, and the cities that should have been theirs.

The Sword of Caine had arrived.

Gangrel had been trickling in since the arrival of the elder Haakon, scenting opportunity upon the wind. Zayne would insert himself into that stream, another hunter appearing to seek game.

The only difference was in the type of game.

Zayne's body distorted, bones cracking and shifting into new positions as he shifted into wolf form, moving through the woods on the northern boundary of the metropolis. He bounded through the woods with a purpose, senses sharp, seeking the scent and signs of his half-clansmen.

[Cynical Cat]

"Dona Isidora, I am delighted you could join me," said Kyle Strathcona. The bearded, stocky vampire rose from his chair and took the woman's hand and kissed it.

"Your man was most insistent," she replied. "My congratulations on your achievements. I understand you met with Radu Bistri recently."

He raised an eyebrow. "Yes I did."

"It was an unfortunate day for the Lasombra when the Ventrue chose you. You are worthy to be among our numbers."

"Thank you Dona. I will take that for the complement you intend. As it stands I believe the shared heritage of Caine's blood and the allegiance to the Sabbat are more important ties than mere clan."

"There is some truth to that. How can I be of service Cardinal?"

"You are a part of the stridently anti-Tzimisce faction and a well connected member of Les Amies Noir. I wish you to carry a message to your colleagues."

"I'm afraid I don't know what you are talking about Cardinal. While I possess no love for the Fiends-"

His gaze met her and pinned hers. She qualied at the force it contained. "Do not assume I am a fool because I am not Lasombra. Les Amies Noir has existed for a long time under many names. The Friends of the Night is known and remembered. Treat me like a fool again and it will be Monomancy between us."

She bowed. "I crave your forgiveness Cardinal."

"This conflict spills the blood of our brothers and sisters to no gain while the Camarilla gains strength. It is an abomination and will end as far as I hold domain. Am I clear?"

"Perfectly Cardinal. But your are the master of Eastern Canada and we are in the United States."

"Detroit is not so far from Toronto," Strathcona replied. "Those under my guidance are not riven with strife and Detroit listens to me. Heed my words Dona Isidora. Les Amies Noir will join with the others in ending this waste of our brothers and siststers sacred blood or it will cease to be a power in the Sabbat. It will have become too conservative and too out of touch for the younger Lasombra to heed it and value it. It will make its irrelevant, a fossil. Like the Camarilla. Instead it shall be those Lasombra with vision, the Fiends, the Hand, and those of the other clans that shall lead the Sabbat. The power of the Lasombra shall be irrevocably broken by its failure to make peace and turn its efforts to the true war."

"I shall carry your message Cardinal." She bowed low.

[imperfect vision]

Holden took what he wanted, and slipped the girl onto the couch. He cupped her cheek, dragged her eyes to his, and with a forceful gaze, made the 'suggestion.' "Sleep."

She was out like a light. Unsuspecting.

He took a look up to the room where stranger number one was turned into a stain on the carpet. It's alright, he wasn't to his tastes anyway.


Holden wiped his mouth, smoothed back his hair, and left the Lair without a word. He decided to walk back to the 'safehouse,' away from the others, away from almost anybody. He had hoped the force of his 'personality,' had kept the raging death machine away from Cassie. Only a bandaid on the problem, for sure, but enough for the situation. The same trick would not work twice on those things, for sure, for they are creatures of instinct. Once they sniff that there's nothing beneath the surface.. well that would be the end of that.

It would be a long walk, but Holden would at least put two and two together about where to find his new debtor. Or if the creature came for him again, he would have a place to draw it to. Cool air chilled dead skin and organs. Holden took this chill to his soul to refresh his roots, refresh his mind, and would work his way into importance here one way or another. It might take a while, but he knew the game. At least the way it used to be.

God, hope Cassie is alright. It's always a damn shame when one of theirs bites it under those dirty lupines. And she woulda never had a chance at something great, whether it be for better or worse. Kindred policies allowed for only one or the other.

[Charon]

Marcus listened as the voices stopped. Then one pair of feet left. That son of a bitch had left the body here. He made his way back to his door, now that he was better he could actually think. A tentacle appeared out of the shadows and openned the door. With a thought Marcus left the shadow there and moved out of the room. The blood on his clothes had dried by now and cracked off as he moved, leaving a trail behind him as he made his way towards the sounds.

The traverse down the stairs wasn't easy by any means but slow and careful movement solved that problem. He reached the woman and his eyes noticed that she still breathed. That bastard had not only left her, but left her alive. Marcus brought himself up as best he could, careful not to disturb the woman. Then without another thought he laid his fangs upon her neck, careful to place his lower jaw properly to cover the nape of her neck, then drove his fangs into her neck and drank the woman dry while she slept. Perhaps too good a death for the kine.

Marcus moved off of the woman, feeling very full now. He dragged himself over to the windows and made certain the curtains were pulled then made his way back to his room. He closed the door then dragged a piece of furniture in front of it. The body was still on the floor, and blood was everywhere. He wouldn't be able to get to the bed on his own, and so he rested on the floor, waiting for the inevitable return of Wright, downtrodden from the total failure of his plan. At least there would be something good that came out of tonight.

[imperfect vision]

It was about an hour and a half between the time he left Marcus' and got back to the place on foot. There was all sorts of blood and mess in the car, better to not raise any questions other than the fact that it was stolen from the neighborhood. He pushed his way through the fence, and sniffed the air. Rotting...cabbage? No, worse. He didn't smell anything else, so he assumed it was only his companion in sanity. "Home, darlin'." He said as he walked through the door and ran his fingers through his hair. Greasy; he was starting to only slightly despair over his current state of dress and bathing, but that would wait. There were shelters, run by the kind-hearted. They would visit there, soon. Sometime. Maybe tomorrow. Holden let out a sigh, and went in search of the girls.

[Bratty]

Rosemary is found in front of a fireplace which is lit only with cobwebs and memories. She is stewing and reflecting from the night. Stirring up some cobwebs of her own called doubt. Sitting on the dirty floor, she waits.

Without turning her head, she says with quiet melody to Holden when he enters the room. "I hoped you were still alive," She said. For all of their sake, she will never mention, but the thought is there.

[imperfect vision]

"I'd hoped the same for you. I couldn't control which way that beast went, but it went and that's all that matters to me. Marcus is a little worse for wear but all in all he will get over it."

He has a seat beside her on the floor, rubbing his chin, staring into the fireplace.

"This place is more backwards than I thought. Lasombra allowed into Elysium and Lupines wandering around. Next you'll see the Prince having crumpets with Sabbat Caitiff.

But it's stagnant, too. Scary stuff. Can't just slip in with credentials anymore, have to play two hands at once an' hope the dealer don't shoot ya."

[Bratty]

Her head hangs down. "I failed you, Holden. I went to Elysium to emplore assistance, and ...there was no one there interested in the creatures or assisting. No one." Not even her own species.

[imperfect vision]

Holden pauses, and sneers. "Such is the way of those who hide in the protection of Elysium. I'll bet many of them have not set foot in the world for a spell."

Again the realm of possibility takes hold of Holden's mind... one way, or another.. or another..

and shakes it off.

"It is not you who have failed, Rosemary. The blood betrays itself, and as such they will suffer one way, or another."