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

[Cynical Cat]

"I just got of the phone with the Seneshal and Rothstein is not fucking happy. It seems a decapitated body in an advanced state of decay was found at your haven, which has been the scene of two gangland style hits in the last week. Your name is going to on the front page of every newspaper in the city and the Seneshal is going to be busy burying the corpse story. This isn't good Wright. I thought you were going to go to war with this clown, not fuck around throwing parties every fucking night."

[Josh]

"In case you missed it," he said evenly. "My place has been the target of two hits in two fucking nights. Both of 'em from assholes on the other side of the line, with other fucking clans backing them. I got dots I'm connecting here, and it's starting to look a fuckload like this whole war idea of ours was what somebody else came up with first. You and me both know that I'm at the far end of the clan, and somebody looking to move on our assets in this fuckin' town would figure to pick somebody off. So it's bad, yeah, and it's time we started unfucking this situation in a hurry."

Still calm. But the perceptive would sense that the storm was building, like ominous clouds on the horizon, and that when it broke, blood would rain.

"You can leave me out to swing on this," he admitted. "And if you do, they're gonna start nibbling their way right the fuck up the line."

[Cynical Cat]

"Your place and your constant parties are right out in a hittable zone. Grow the fuck up, you're not a Toreodor holding a soiree in the nice fucking part of town. When you start to stir up shit, try not to gather all your minions in one place that can be hit without endangering the Masquerade and has a constant stream going in and out. You want responsibility, start acting responsible."

"Cutting you loose is the easy answer. Most of the other Brujah think you've gone Toreodor on us. The you not sweeping the scene can't be swept under. And if you survive by ducking behind me and the clan taking the heat, you'll be a joke. To everyone. I don't think you want that. Which means the hard road. The upside is that if you pull it off, you win big and I can help you with it. Your choice, unless you have a good plan that you haven't mentioned yet."

[Josh]

He was silent for a long moment.

"I fucked up, Samson. There it is. Now I'm going to kill some fuckers. And yeah, I got some ideas, but it'll mean that everyone'll have to climb in, and if we pull it off, we'll own the fucking unions once and for all, and more."

As for hiding behind Samson, well, the plan was to hide behind people without looking like he was hiding behind anybody. Fuck Toreador, he was thinking more like a Ventrue at the moment.

[Cynical Cat]

"You want everyone in to handle a fucking ghoul? You're signing your death warrant by asking for it. Cargo seems to an orphan in council. No one is owning up to owning him. A lot of the elder's haven't reported in yet, but the Nosferatu have and they know a fair amount of Cargo. Which means if he works for a local elder, which I may not be the case, they've cut him loose."

"Don't show up in the Elysium for a while until we've had the opportunity to spread around the blame for Masquerade breech. Take out Cargo and blame the whole mess on him. When you bring his skull in makesure protecting the Masquerade is one of the first things out of your mouth."

Samson paused. "I'm burning up a lot of goodwill keeping things calm. As much as I don't like it, the Ventrue can take us out any time they want. Take care of business. Come back victorious. Cast all the blame on the dead. Be penitent and fucking responsible when you speak to Black."

"This isn't hard shit Wright. He moves large amounts of people and contraband in and out of the railroad on a semi-regular basis. He's got to store them somewhere reasonably close and have the right people not looking. That adds up. Run him down and finish with him before he can pull another rabbit out of his hat."

[Josh]

His head rocked back.

"Wait a fuckin' minute here. We talk this over last time, you're tellin' me that going after Cargo is going to bring on a major war, and so we're all gonna be pulling together on it so's we can take it to 'em. Now it's just me and a fucking shipper?"

Was Samson just pushing him out the door as a sacrificial lamb? Win or lose? It'd be about right.

"He's a dead motherfucker," he concluded. "And if this breaks bigger than just me and him, what then?"

[Cynical Cat]

"Did you not fucking listen to me when I told you that Cargo is a fucking orphan and that no one's claiming him? Yeah, whoever owns his ass isn't speaking up. The Masquerade breach isn't falling just over you, its also falling over Cargo. Whoever owns him is either in another city or is throwing him to the wolves. Circumstances have fucking changed. Don't be a fucking fossil. Adapt. Hit him. The Masquerade breach is probably going to cost you, but if you play it right it might not cost you much. Take Cargo now while no one is backing him and he's covered in stink as well. And before he gets his hand on anymore help. And keep out of the fucking headlines. Your alternative is that I handle it for the good of the clan and you aren't going to fucking like how that will go down."

[Josh]

He nodded. Samson wasn't coming up with the picture at all, and he obviously couldn't think things through in a rational fashion, Wright assumed without a trace of irony.

"Okay, okay, it's done," he said. "Anyway, I got work to do."

That was the problem with the fucking clan. No goddamned perspective.

"Have a good fuckin' evening," he offered on the way out.

[Cynical Cat]

"Wright, I'm not sending you out to die. I'm gambling that you're going to win and exerting myself to make it so. If I thought you were going to lose you would be leaving here staked in a suitcase."

[Josh]

He looked back at Samson, wondering what the fuck that was supposed to be. Inspiration?

"Y'know what the funniest shit here is? I'm the most honest motherfucker in this fucked-up town. That's the biggest goddamned laugh ever. I won't let ya down, Samson."

Fucking assholes. They all played their little games of denial, he was the one who just flat-out lived the life and didn't mope about and whine about fucking humanitas and bullshit. They pretended like brotherhood meant something, when they'd tear each other's throats out in a second for a fucking dime.

What a bunch of fucking losers.

[Cynical Cat]

"You are a self important, hedonistic fuck up who doesn't give a shit about anyone but himself. Congradulations, you're like an Ventrue elder but even more useless. Everything you have will be taken from you the moment Clan Brujah ceases to stand with you. We don't take a dime from your table and get your scorn instead. Grow the fuck up you spoiled brat. When you lived there was something in you that wouldn't satisfied with standing still. With Brujah blood in you, why are you content to stagnate? Stand up and be worth a damn."

[Charon]

Marcus was faced with the only one real course of action to find the Nosferatu. Go to elysium. Not the most pleasant of ideas at the moment, but someone there would know where the sewer rats were. He got in his car and drove towards Elysium, Wright would have to go out and find Cassie sometime as well she'd have no clue where to go.

Marcus pulled up to the club and got out of the car, leaving his weapons in the car he got in with little trouble and began looking for information on the Nosferatu.

[Josh]

He turned around, a baffled look on his face.

"Smack me, pet me, smack me... get a fucking ghoul, Samson. Shit."

[Cynical Cat]

"I've got plenty of ghouls. I expect better from you. What the fuck went wrong with you Wright? When did you lose it? What made a leader of men into what stands in front of me?"

[Josh]

And suddenly, all the repressed anger burst out. "Don't fucking go there," he snarled. "Don't even fucking act like I'm anything more than a goddamned fucking pawn on your board. You want me to buck up so you can climb the fucking ladder. That's why I'm the honest motherfucker around here, because I'm the only one who doesn't bullshit about being in this shit for myself."

Except when he did, but that wasn't the point.

"I'll do the goddamn job, I'll take the cocksucker down. And yeah, I let shit slide. Ain't gonna fucking happen again. I'll make my piece, and you'll get your piece for sticking it out with me, 'cause you're making a smart fucking bet on me."

The anger flowed out of him as abruptly as it came.

God damn him for reminding me. Motherfucker.

"Anything else we need to talk about?"

Why did conversations with Samson always end up like this?

[Cynical Cat]

"Get out of here," said Samson. "Take care business. I'll make sure you have more than ashes to come back to. And if you spent half as much time at Elysium instead of partying with mortals you would know the smart move would be sending your staked body in a suitcase. Now go, while I can still I can still buy you time. Put that evil fuck Cargo out of business."

[Josh]

He left without another word, heading back out onto the streets.

What was it with Samson? Out of all the assholes to ride in town, why did he ride him?

He looked back at the hotel, his fangs sliding out of their sockets unbidden as he snarled at the elder's haven.

"Shoulda fuckin' staked my ass, you stupid fuck," he whispered.

Nobody brought that shit up with him. It might take him a decade or a century, but the elder was dead fucking meat.

But first things first. Cargo was going to die. Preferably in a very slow, painful fashion.

[Charon]

Marcus made his way up to one of the harpies. Much as he dispised them they knew who was who. The young one, Diane, moved away from the crowd and Marcus followed. "Excuse me. I was wondering if you can point me in the direction of one of the undergrounders."

[Cynical Cat]

"They don't come here often," Diane replied. "If you want to find one, head for the waterworks. By the way, know anything about Wright's Masquerade breach?"

[Charon]

Marcus shook his head, eyebrows raised. "A masquerade breach? Doesn't sound like something Wright would do. He's usually careful."

[Cynical Cat]

"Don't know the details, that's why I'm asking. The word's getting around that a decapitated corpse was found right beside his place in an advanced state of decay."

[Charon]

Marcus shrugged his shoulders. "I was around there earlier, but I didn't notice anything like that. Must have happened after I left." Marcus excused himself from the conversation, thanking Diane for telling him where to find the people he was looking for and made a few quick rounds about Elysium to not look impolite then headed out. To the waterworks it was.

[imperfect vision]

"Mrrh. Not knowing the geography, I can't take a chance on hauling the body anywhere and everywhere...." So Holden drags the carcass and liberates it of any cash onhand as well as any other valuables, as well as his coat, and looks for sewer access. He grunts as he helps himself to a manhole, not being the strongest gentleman in the world, and when it's open, slips the body down the hole. "The way I see it, miss, if they want to leave you hangin', they can pick up after themselves." He dusts his hands off and tosses the coat her way.

"This, despite it's current condition, may help us just a li'l bit."

[Bratty]

She is not familiar with the whys and whatfors that he does what he does. She is not aware of the Nosferatu habitat, nor why he tosses her a coat. But the implied notion is there, so she painfully tries to slide the arm through the coat. A few tears from new claws, and she eventually gets into it, though her back ridges stick out noticeably, and the coat is half torn to shreds.

Mary comments, "Waste not, want not." Figuring the rats down the sewer might eat the body completely so as to dispose of the evidence.

[imperfect vision]

"Yes'm." Holden flips up the collar of the coat so that it hides her face as best it can, and brandishes a handkerchief from his pocket. He takes her hand, folds it over part of her new claws, and moves it up to her face. "Hold this here." He then puts his arm around her shoulders and directs her out of the mouth of the alleyway. What an inauguration into the unlife of night.

He flags down a taxi, leaning into Cassie so that both of their natures are hidden. His eyes flash at the driver through the mirror, gaining his complete attention and begins laying the foundation for Domination. "The hotel down by the tracks.. my friend here ain't feeling well. Maybe that spanish flu that's wafting around here and there. Also fought in the War, so they ain't much to look at. Damn the mustard gas."