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

[Cynical Cat]

Broken Stick replied. "Cargo will probably die. His business and his master's interests will continue, as will ours. Wright is incapable of providing the services that Cargo did and another of his master's underlings will step into the void, unless Wright does so much damage to the operation that it is no longer viable. Therefore it is not in our interest to assist Wright, who has already alienated both of his clan's factions. Samson is unlikely to exert himself for Wright again and the more rambuncious ones consider him an effete, Toreodor pussy. Wright's time is short."

[Charon]

Marcus chuckled, 'so sure of that?' was in the back of his mind. "Yeah, probably. But frankly, Cargo seems to think of himself as some high and mighty kindred, when he's just a flesh peddler, useful or not. He's gonna get more out of hand as the months go by. From my understanding he's already out for both my blood and Wright's. Who says the cocky fucker won't be after somebody else next week if he doesn't get taken out now?"

[Cynical Cat]

"Cargo is not a problem to us," replied Broken Stick. "Nor will he ever be for longer than it takes to reach out and kill him."

[Charon]

Marcus would have taken a deep breath if he'd still been alive. "What I'm saying is that he seems to be ripe for causing trouble for everybody. He's already been a part of a masquerade breach. The problem should be taken care of now before it gets out of hand. Then another lackey steps in and nothing will have changed for you guys. Think of it this way, right now someone else is willing to take out Cargo before he becomes your problem."

[Cynical Cat]

"You are fortunate that I am in a tolerant mood today," replies Broken Stick. "Cease this witless attempt to convince me to kill a juicebag that is useful to both myself and my clan because you and Wright want a share of his smuggling business. You cannot provide to me what he does. Now, what did your sire tell you was the proper punishment for inferiors who tried to play you for a fool?"

[Charon]

Marcus laughed hollowly. His sire would have his head on a pike, and this sewer rat seemed to know it. The beast began to stir again for the second time that night as Marcus was called an inferior. Marcus shoved it down. That would only get him killed now. With a nod Marcus said, "I will not waste any more of your time." And made to leave.

[Cynical Cat]

Marcus is able to leave without difficulty.

[Comrade Tortoise]

Finding prostitutes that are suitable targets is harder than Leo expected. The bawdy houses and speak easies are out, which leaves him searching for streetwalkers. It takes him a little while to find the right neighborhood. And then he's neck deep in them.

Short dresses, flapper style and too short skirts and partially unbuttoned blouses are the uniform of choice. No obvious pimps. So Leo settles in and waits. He uncomfortably brushes off several entreaties and then his patience is rewarded. A big thuggish bull of a man wearing a bulky pinstripped suit comes up to him. "Can I help you my friend?" he says with just a touch of menace. "Are you interested in these fine ladies?"

"I may very well be" Father leonard said
"They are all rather nice. I am arranging for a private party, and was wondering if we could speak in private. It would mean a good deal of business to you, I simply cannot afford to be aught by the misses in this section of town again..." he said again, looking into the man's eyes and projecting what could not be mistaken for anything but a command by anyone with the knowledge to know of such things.

[Charon]

Marcus left without another word. He made his way back to his haven and made certain the study was locked and headed into the library. A few minutes later he heard the door to the house unlock and open. Without a word he grabbed the sword next to his chair until he heard Wright's stomping about and laughing about, something. He waited until Wright passed by the door. "Lemme guess, you got something?"

[Cynical Cat]

"Sure," replied the whoremaster as Leo's supernatural suggestion took effect. "Where do you want the whores?"

[Josh]

"Fuck yeah," Wright said. He rattled off an address. "I got the little cocksucker. And when I'm through with him..." he said cheerfully. "He's gonna wish I'd pulped his balls on the dance floor."

[Charon]

Marcus smiled. "We should prep the cocktails and fireworks then. I tried to get some info from the uglies, but those shit heads were too busy spouting about how good Cargo was for business to realize he'd turned into a threat."

[Josh]

He waved it off with an irritated gesture. "Fuck 'em. Fuck 'em all."

He grabbed a chair and spun it around, sitting down in it to face the Freak. "Listen, I'm thinkin' here..."

He tapped the table.

"Got three big players in town, on the kine side of things. You got the fucking Mick, you got the Gennas, you got Torrio. You got a peace that ain't gonna hold. Soon as somebody starts feeling like they can make a move, this town's gonna bleed."

He grinned at the thought.

"And when it does, I'm gonna make some moves. We're all fuckheads out on the ass-end. Assholes in my own clan don't give a shit for me. You ain't even got a clan to speak of, and neither does Jason. Whatcha say to doing our own thing?"

[Charon]

Marcus smiled, this was why Wright wasn't gonna get taken out soon. He had too much use for the kindred. "My dear man, I've been doing things my way since the beginning. I'm glad you're beginning to catch on." Once again the two began their schemes.

[Cynical Cat]

Mirrors reflected two beams of light through a room, down a corridor, around a corner and downstairs. In a cement walled room with a packed earth floor, a grotesque female form sat. Eight feet tall and at least eight hundred pounds, the monstrous being sat serenely as sunlight touched the flesh of her belly and sides.

Her skin blackened and sloughed off where the narrow beams touched it. A smell very close to that of roasting pork filled the air and the acute of hearing could hear a noise vaguely like bacon on a hot pan. A figure stepped through the rooms only door, which was too small to allow the behemoth to pass.

"Mighty zhupan," said the man as he bowed low. He was slender in the way a swimmer or a track star was and his beauty was unblemished. His clothing was immaculate. "News has arrived."

The female opened a single red eye. "Speak," she said, her chins wobbling.

"They have settled on monomancy. They wish you to officiate."

"Hmm," said the creature, apparently oblivious to the destruction of her flesh. "Tell them I accept."

"Your will, my lord."

"Now leave me." The man bowed and left the room as his master's flesh burned.

[imperfect vision]

Holden awoke, rising from the bed at a slow pace. He checked the door, and moved around the room, gathering up the things to be prepared for the evening. He must look his best, and they must get the hell out of the hotel and into some new digs. He straightened the room as best he could, and took the time to wash his face.

After that, he changed into his evening wear, whether the girl was watching or not; undeath seems to have killed off his shame.

[Bratty]

The "girl" was no where to be seen immediately.

[imperfect vision]

And this realization caused Holden some concern. He moved to where his back was to the door, and slowly swept the room for her presence... which he probably would miss. Even the most rudimentary form of Obfuscate would more than likely escape his examinations. "Rose?...Cassie?" He wasn't exactly sure who to call for, so why not try both?

[Bratty]

The scent of rotting cabbages seems gone...for now. The figure moves from the shadows in the bathroom, using a comb to go through her scalp, blood oozing from the scalp where she literally is combing through it. The skin underneath her eyes has begun to sag. "Ready to go?" She asks, coming up behind him.

[imperfect vision]

His lips purse, for a brief moment fighting the terror of the Beast, and boy has he seen some stuff too... He turns away from her and finishes gathering things. "Yes." Seeing the end result is one thing, but watching as the transformation takes its hold... the vitae in his blood runs even colder, and he holds open his own heavy coat for her to use, to hide. "We're gonna need that hanky trick again..." he looks around and grabs a towel. "Or this'll do. How'd you like to be from India 'til we make our way out the door?"

[Bratty]

The twisted lips sneer in strange satisfaction at his horrible attempt at hiding his disgust. Mary reasons, "We got him all scared and pissing his pants now. What is the worst thing to happen if we show our face? Embaress him? Get his fine dandy clothes all bloodied? Maybe ruin his reputation. CASSIE! QUIT COMBING YOUR GODDAMN HAIR!! We need to eat!

"The towel will do." An impartial voice resonates melodically. Something rather soothing to it as the clawed hand places down the comb and begins to wrap the towel which is already soaking up the blood around her head. "We have to ...consume, and meet this Prince tonight, correct?"

Cassie whimpers quietly. The towel is uncomfortable to her, and she is not the one who normally deals with pain well. Mary GROWLS, "QUIT YOUR WHINING!!"

[imperfect vision]

He nods. "We just need that to last for a li'l bit, then we get to a snack and then head on over to Elysium. Don't forget our backstory." He shoots a smile. This Rosemary was most reasonable. He tugs up the collar of the coat, and then opens the door for her. As they leave, he takes her down the back way they came up originally, avoiding the overused hallways in favor of the quieter path. They slip out the back, and into the open alley.

[Bratty]

Rosemary says quietly, "Just a reminder that you were to show us how to 'snack' without making the damage permanent."

As they slip out, Rosemary immediately blends with the shadows. It is the place both she and Mary are most comfortable in, so indeed, this gift comes the most naturally for her.

[imperfect vision]

He nods again and bows deeply to her fading form, and moves along the alleys in search of prey. This close to the tracks, they fall upon some easy pickin's. Just a pair of dregs chatting, drunk as skunks and smelling much worse.

"..nobody to miss them.." His eyes flash in the darkness as he eyeballs the two, silent footfalls carrying him closer.

[Bratty]

Mary listens as they get closer. She can hear the heartbeats. THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP. Drunk, indeed. Her fangs expose, which in her cascading mouth of razors is not that much of a change. She can almost taste the blood already. The Beast is rising.