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

[frigidmagi]

Jason nodded. The appearence of a greater hunter like that however, meant greater security would be required. He would have to see about finding a more fortifiable place to sleep. He would also have to get cash to care for the women he had picked up now that he thought about it.

[Josh]

He continued along, but there was a nagging feeling that something was missing.

Then it occurred to him- he'd left his weapon with Chicken Boy, who'd dumped it so he could go sermonize to the heathens at the tracks.

"FUCK!" he yelled suddenly. "My goddamned heater!"

He pondered going after it, but anything with value didn't stay put for more than five seconds in this area. He'd have Fred put out word to find out who'd unloaded a BAR lately, and then have an appropriate example made.

[frigidmagi]

Jason snickered.

"Butterfingers." He said.

[Josh]

"Go fuck yourself," Wright said. "Two hundred bucks that damned thing cost me, and did I even shoot anybody with it? No!"

[Comrade Tortoise]

"Go fuck yourself," Wright said. "Two hundred bucks that damned thing cost me, and did I even shoot anybody with it? No!"

Father leonard chuckled, his new found goul beside him still, the early stages of a blood bond filling him with an odd affetion for the priest

"here it is" hesaid, pulling it out of his coat

"I was tempted to keep it but... I prefer blades"

[Charon]

Marcus grinned as the man took his first of what was likely to be many sips.

"Now then, what is your name?"

After recieving that information Marcus launched into a somewhat detailed overview of what a ghoul was, what it could do, what it couldn't do. Who they could piss off, who they couldn't. As well as his expectations of the man, which included being up at about sunrise, and sleeping only after Marcus was certain he would not need him. Tasks would be menial for the most part, with occasional messages that would have to be sent. Marcus left out the part about his ghoul being able to get blood from other vampires. By the time he figured it out on his own, either Marcus would have no use for him anymore or it wouldn't matter anyway.

Marcus spent much of the night doing this before sending the man to guests quarters to get comfortable. Tomorrow they would go out for new clothes for the man, the next night he would meet the prince.

[Josh]

Wright snagged the rifle from Chicken Boy, making a show of looking it over. Same rusty piece of junk he had before. Examining it, he decided to just throw it away and buy a new one, because he had no clue whatsoever how to get it cleaned up.

He looked up, grinning at the new ghoul. "Hey Limper, how ya doin'?"

[Cynical Cat]

The ghoul looked away nervously. "Fine," he said meekly.

[Josh]

"Fine," he mimicked in a high-pitched, quavery voice. "You two are made for each other." he said, cackling.

[Comrade Tortoise]

"Fine," he mimicked in a high-pitched, quavery voice. "You two are made for each other." he said, cackling.

"Do you ha e an ounce of a soul left? Or do you get your kicks from torturing people who do?"

[Josh]

He grinned. "I'm an asshole," he said. "But at least I'm an honest asshole. But hey, if it bothers you, I won't pick on your ghoul anymore. I'm sure you got all sorts of scut work for him to take care of."

[Comrade Tortoise]

"Thanks. As for scut work, I have no intention f forcing him into that sortof servitude"

[Josh]

He paused, then gave a long, exaggerated nod. "Oooooh yeah, that's right, you gave him a choice. So what sort of things are you going to be doing with him?"

[Comrade Tortoise]

Leo looked at him, not wanting to talk about him as if he wrnt there, but seeing no otehr real choice at the moment

"Rebuild his confidence and sense of self, then what he does is up to him, I would welcomehis help and company, but I wont force it on him"

[Josh]

"Uh, not to rain on your parade there, but he's kinda stuck with you. I mean, he has to stick with you, or he fucking dies. Great way to rebuild his confidence there. And it's not like he even has a fucking clue about how he feels about this, 'cause, y'know..." he finished by making a loud, obnoxious slurping noise. "Kinda puts a bias in the whole thing."

[Josh]

Having gotten his shots in, he turned without waiting for a reply and started off to his place. It was a long game, and he was going to enjoy his time with Chicken Boy for all it was worth.

[frigidmagi]

"So huh... Why did y'all give the mortals blood?" Jason asked. Niether Anna or Ivan had even mentioned anything like it and it mystified him.

[Josh]

"Oh Jesus, I keep forgetting how new you are at all this. Okay, you feed a human our blood, it changes 'em. Bonds 'em to us, makes them stronger. Pretty soon, they jump into the fire on your say-so. It's pretty damned useful for handling all those hassles of nightlife, y'know what I'm saying?"

[Josh]

Wright revived with a start, the vague notion of something clawing at his flesh floating across his mind. A quick motion brought his pistol up, but nothing was there. He was alone, safe in his inner sanctum. No monsters were lurking in the darkness, lusting to tear the flesh from his bones.

He shook his head. Until he heard for sure that this Riddlefucker was dead and incinerated, he was going to be on edge. He was well aware of the concept of feints, doubling back, reverse psychology, and other gambits.

He rolled out of bed and lurched for the sink, turning on the tap, full-blast warm water. Rinsing his face, he pondered what he had to do tonight. Oh yeah, meet the Freak, and then get back so he could dispatch Fred off to put in a word with the Mick's people that he wasn't going to stand for any more muscling in on his turf.

His new recruits would wait until tomorrow, when they were good and parched and starved, before he'd get to making them their devil's deals. He'd told Fred to turn the light on and look in every so often, just not in a regular pattern. Couple of hours here, four hours there, totally fuck with their sense of time. It was a nice little gambit he'd overheard a Ventrue talking about one of the times he'd actually wandered into Elysium.

Who said the Blue Bloods were totally useless?

Just too fucking bossy, was the main problem.

He opened his secured door and jogged on up the stairs.

[Josh]

He took a nip off of Leila and then left an orgy in progress behind at the warehouse. Bedecked in his finest evening wear, he left Fred behind to at least slightly impede any nasty monsters that took it in their mind to carve a bloody swath through his herd and made his way to the Elysium for his meeting with Marcus.

[Cynical Cat]

Wright moved towards Chicago's core. His modest meal left him fairly saited, but not yet full. Marcus and Leo had more serious appetites, with injuries to heal, disciplines having been used, and ghouls fed. Museums, skyscrappers, libraries and whatnot had sprouted up rapidly within a small span of years, as vampires reckon things. Chicago was a rapidly growing city and its city fathers' had decided to equip it with all the trappings of a great city.

There was a modest building near, but not quite part, of this expanding core. Older and more modest in scale, it was almost an antiquity by the standards of the new cities of America. It housed a gentleman's club of some arcane nature. To the Kindred of the city, it was more than that. It was Elysium.

A liveried ghoul doorman opened the door and let Wright into the "gentleman's club". A hat check girl offered to take his hat and coat.

Wright then progressed sitting room was illuminated by a great crystal chandelier and the place where most public business was done. It was busier here than he had ever seen it.

The elegant black claud form of Lucas Black, Prince of Chicago, observed from the side. An olive skinned vampire watched from the side. A dark haired vampire in an elegant dress managed the ebb and flow of the crowd. Several unfamiliar vampires were present, but there were movers and shakers.

Diane, a blonde vampire of considerable ambition chatted with the lace and velvet clad Jacques Travailler. A tall thin figure lurked in a corner, his features obscured by scarf and huge coat. A broad shouldered white haired male in his late middle aged and a conservative suit was coldly debating Samantha Blake point for point.

There were other rooms than the main one, of course. Some used for private conferences or shared diversions.

[Comrade Tortoise]

Leo awoke with a biting hunger. He had never felt this hungry and the stray cats he had just didnt sate it. He would have to go out looking for better prey. But that would mean... His morals had definently slipped. Significantly. Even in just the previous evening.. it is wht he got for leaving his hermit lifestyle and allowed himself to e influenced and manipulated by otehr vampires

"God... why?" he pleaded
"How could you have allowed this to happen to one of your loyal servants? A test of faith at which no one may suceed... Why?'

[Josh]

Wright wasn't a player on any sort of grand scale. Looking around at the crowd of real players, he was about as relevant as the puppet Prince, he figured.

Much as he'd like the move and deal in here, he fucking hated Elysium. Every gaze in the room fixed on throats, not eyes. He could respect that, except that it frayed on his already fragile control over his temper. This was a true society of predators, and the only game that really concerned them were other kindred.

He fought it down and made his proper social greetings, well, as proper as one of his upbringing and disposition could do, anyway. A steady stream of 'How ya doin'?' 'Hey, what the fuck's up?' tended to bring the eyebrows up of the harpies and other socialities.

Fuck 'em anyway. He'd proven his chops by helping the archons hunt a critter nasty enough that even that bastard Kraut was rattled.

(And in his already rapidly-revising memory of the event, he was the star of the show, making the suggestions and pressing on where others feared to tread. He didn't figure himself for finding the message in the bathroom- he wasn't delusional- but events were already shading themselves into the most glorious and favorable interpetation with regards to his own character and virtues.)

With the recent, undeniable evidence of his own character and heroism floating in the back of his mind, he made his way through the room on a high of confidence and certainty, before finally finding a corner with another Brujah to wait for the Freak to show.

[Cynical Cat]

Wright found himself chatting with the only Brujah in the room that he knew, a statuesque brunette in a slinky with a little more muscle tone than was strickly fashionable. As Karen was also in the liquer business as the temptation to turn down all that money was impossible to resist. But she was better tied into the underworld than most. A middlewoman and broker, Wright never had need of her services although she had bought booze from him once or twice.

"Have you heard if Samson is going to show?" she asked.

[Josh]

"Haven't heard shit," he answered with a shrug.