Deathknell Chronicles- Andrew's Prelude

[daelrog]

Andrew Vassar was having a good day. He had three grand in the bank already. It was unusual to get paid before a shoot, but it happened from time to time. He was standing in front of Le Beast, a place he heard abotu now and then. It was supposedly a pretty cutthroat place, that and pretty extreme. Not too many had seen Sean Loveless, but rumors of his tattoos of beastiality weren't lost on him. No, he would be working with one of his assistant this evening, Purity Westbrook. By the photo on her resume, she was quite the striking figure.

The outside of the building was plain and grey. The front door however, was painted glass. It was of a ying yang, but as he walked closer he could see that there were subtle lines drawn, making it a black woman in a sea of white men, and a white woman in a sea of black men.

He pushed the front door open... to see a large white room, empty. No doors, no people, nothing.

[JonRG]

Andrew ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Let's see... Grammatically inaccurate psuedo-French name, zero-effort exterior design, kitschy art on the doors. Definitely a wannabe nightclub in the works." He pushed the door open, dragging his supplies with him. "Oh wow. They're too cool for furniture too. Yanno, I expected something a bit edgier from Jabba. Then again, I don't think you could fit a motorized scooter in here anyhow."

"Hello? Anybody home?" Andrew called out. Great. Probably a scam. He could expect a call from the bank in a few days telling him that the check bounced. But it wasn't much of a scam unless he performed a service first... Tapping the camera bag at his side, Andrew considered the wisdom of leaving.

[daelrog]

Andrew took another step in, and suddently the entire room changed. There was black everywhere, and there were stairs, and walkways above up to four stories high. The room was an optical illusion, appearing empty at first walk in.

A door open, one that seemed to be just a part of the wall. A young woman, plain, and young stepped out. "The mistress will see you Mr. Andrew, sir. Please follow me."

[JonRG]

"Okay. That's more like it." Andrew started as the wall opened up, and an assistant walked out. "The 'mistress,' huh? Guess Westbrook is one of your more eccentric types." He'd worked with far worse in the past. At the very least, the assistant seemed well-adjusted. That was often the first sign of a pain in the ass client, when even the people paid to be near them looked miserable. "All right then. Lead the way," Andrew finally said. Camera in tow, he strode forward.

This was going to be a good gig.

[daelrog]

They entered a hallway full of what looked to be medieval art. It looked authentic, but he doubted it given that each and everyone was vandalized. Slurs, faces written over, and lots of red ink imitating wounds and blood.

They entered a side door, and in the room he saw a number of fat mannequins set up in dancing poses. Their eyes were taped over. There was a stained, white curtain behind them.

Purity was standing there, watching it, her hand tapping her pearl lips. Her hair appeared slightly wet, and was short, and stylish. She was leaning her weight onto her right foot, and her beige dress swayed around her lithe figure, and complimented her tan skin.

She did not look at him before addressing him. "Something seems missing, what do you think?"

Roll perception + crafts if you want

[JonRG]

Crafts+Perception: [roll0]

[daelrog]

Andrew notices that there's something off as well, but nothing is coming to mind. All it is right now are a number of fat mannequins dancing, there's nothing to tie it all together, to make sense of it.

Purity turned around. She was even more beautiful than her picture. She had the kind of bright eyes that said she could make his life paradise or hell, and nothing in between. "Leave us."

The assistant bowed her head and left. Quickly.

[JonRG]

"Four years of art education, and I'm tilting my head at... this. Good to finally be surprised, for once." Andrew was even more surprised when Miss Westbrook turned around. "Damn. A man could get lost in those eyes... Maybe the night will be worthwhile, even if I don't get paid." He cleared his throat. "You're definitely right, but I can't really say what. Perhaps you can tell me a bit more about the piece?"

[daelrog]

She pursed her lips slightly. She wanted a clearer answer, but at least he had no said the wrong answer. "It is our control of the body." Andrew heard the door close behind them, leaving only the two of them, and the mannequins. "These mannequins are dancing quite elegantly, something we find beautiful. To be able to take one foot and raise it above their heard shows strength, flexibility, sexuality. However, obesity is seen as coarse, disgusting by modern society, yet it was not always so. Obesity was once beauty for it showed control over what we put into our bodies. In the end that is what true beauty is, control over one's destiny. The weak look for those that they can exude control over, the strong search for those who whose beauty stands strong on its own. An island in the tempest, if you will."

She stepped up and looked at the mannequins. "Ah yes. There is no comparison. All this is before us are fat people dancing. There must be a yin to the yang, a comparison so that the world we are looking at has duality to it."

As she stepped away, her dress dances about her. Andrew had never seen a fabric move in such a way.

[JonRG]

"Well said. I know a professor or two at the Institute that could learn from her. Not to mention gorgeous to boot." Andrew cleared his throat. "Right, well. Much as I enjoy our conversation, perhaps we should table it for when I'm not on the clock." He gestured to the supplies at his side. "Your employer was stingy with the details. I'm curious what sort of work you require from me." Andrew knew what he wanted to do, but that would have to wait for later tonight.

[daelrog]

"To the point Andrew." The way she said his name sounded good. "I think I have changed my mind. You are better suited to be in the spotlight than behind it. I want you to step onto the stage with them. I want you to show suffering to the camera. Though you are a beautiful man in the traditional sense, onlookers will see more beauty in the dancers."

She turned around, and made something close to a purring sound. "Please."

Andrew felt a wave of emotion wash over him. He felt a pull to do as she said, not as strong as love, but strong for a person he just met.

[JonRG]

That was new. A model wanting to take pictures of him? Most couldn't bear even a moment out of the spotlight. Purity, she was definitely something special. Thousands of worries rushed through his mind. If she broke something, insurance would deny his claim flat out, and his equipment was worth a few grand. Besides, did he really want to be in front of the camera? His classmates all said he'd be a great model, but the idea never really sat well with him. "Just one shoot" had a nasty way of snowballing, and before you know it, you're snorting blow off two hookers in a hotel suite. Andrew had just opened his mouth-

"Please."

The hell was he smoking? It was a couple of photos for a client who had paid far above market value for his services. Plus, there was Purity. "Name like that, girl's gotta be a freak in bed," Andrew thought, stepping up on the stage. He turned around, squinting a bit in the lights. Owing a lot of models an apology. "Soooooooooo, what do you want me to do?" Andrew had never been a shy person, but Purity was making him lose his head a bit.

[daelrog]

Purity laughed at his question as if it were an inside joke. She looked at him appraisingly. "Become something ugly, Andrew. Become something with no control over its own fate. Surrounded by these people who enjoy their three meals a day, who can do what they will with their body, you are a wretch with nothing. Show me this. Those watching will stare at the bodies around you, but they will be forming their conclusions based off of you."

She picked up his camera delicatley, but deliberately. "When you are ready."

Performance+Manipulation roll.

[JonRG]

"Uh... all right." Come on, Andy. You've told a dozen different models what to do. You have to have picked up a few tricks. He struck a pose. "How's this?"

Manipulation: [roll0]

[daelrog]

It wasn't a bad attempt, but the surprise of the request and far more experience on the other side of the camera left a little to be desired. He looked the part, but he didn't feel it.

"Oh dear, I suppose that was bit much to ask wasn't it. I suppose we'll have to try this the other way way."

She looked at Andrew in the eyes. In one moment she was beautiful and alluring. In the next, it was as if all the nightmares in the world had centered on her. Eyes of balefire, gnashing teeth, an aura of fear about her. It was surreal, for he could see still the beautiful woman, but it was as if he were looking at her through two different lenses at the same time.

Going to modify the rolling a bit for story purposes. Roll for courage. Botch is passed out. 0 successes is runs away is uncontrolled fear. 1-2 sucesses is cowers on the stop. 3 or more means he retains his wits about him. Difficulty 6.

[JonRG]

Gonna roll and then follow up with a post

[roll0]

[JonRG]

"What... what the hell is going on here?" The nightmare reminded him of a really bad acid or salvia trip, but Andrew hadn't done drugs in years. Could Purity have slipped him something? She had clearly expected this to happen, but... they'd barely touched. How would such a thing even be possible?

Andrew's last thought before he blacked out was tinged with amusement at the fact that he really did get lost in her eyes.

[daelrog]

So I saw that you posted. Then forgot.:smallredface:

Andrew woke up. He felt that he hadn't been out terrible long, no more than an hour, and probably less than half an hour. He was laying on the stage where he had fallen. Andrew could see scores of pictures around him, all turned over so he couldn't see.

He also could hear a soft murmur from somewhere close by, a muffling sound. Of Purity, there was nothing. She was gone.

[JonRG]

Not to worry. These things happen. I was mega-busy anyhow. :smallamused:

"Ugh..." Andrew groaned, rubbing his temple. He propped himself up on one shaky arm and felt around his lower back with the other. Papa called him up in a panic six months ago, having read an article from Reuters about some 'gang' drugging immigrants to steal their kidneys. Becca declared the story nonsense, that the guy had sold his kidney, but to no avail. Regardless, Andrew still had all his organs. Far as he could tell anyways.

He scanned the room, which seemed dimmer than before. No sign of Purity. Just a strange humming noise and... a ridiculous number of pictures. With trembling fingers, Andrew reached for one and turned it over.

[daelrog]

The picture was both beautiful and frightening at the same time. It was everything Purity had wanted it to be. Andrew's unconcious body was dangling on puppet strings, handsome, yet pathetic. Somehow the fat, dancing mannequins seemed more alive in this picture. They truly were beautiful, and he was a wretch. They were living life, while his unconcious form was restrained, trapped.

The muffled noise came again, with a quick rattle. It was close.

[JonRG]

"Holy hell. How did she develop this so fast? Were they all like this?" Meanwhile, his inner artist marveled at her aesthetics. Say what one will about her ethics, the woman had a good eye. "So not important right now," Andrew thought, rubbing his forehead.

Then it came again. The noise. "Hello? Miss Westbrook?" he called out, rising shakily to his feet. This was getting weird...er. Now might be a good time to depart.

[daelrog]

The muffled sound came again, and this time there was no mistake. It was coming from inside one of the fat mannequins, with its eyes duct taped shut.

[JonRG]

Andrew's prevailing instinct told him to run, but an inexorable curiosity drew him closer to the mannequin. As he examined it for the noise's source, his fingers reached and pulled the tape off of its eyes.

Perception: [roll0]

[daelrog]

Oh, no roll is necessary for this.

Andrew beheld in terror as two human eyes stared back at him. They were blue, wide, and full of fear, probably much like Andrew's own. As he looked around, he could only assume that all the fat mannequins held a person within, stuck in their pose.

"Beautiful isn't it? Under the surface of these fat, bloated puppets is the true art. Slaves." Purity stepped out of the shadows. She smiled like a predator, and Andrew could swear her canines seemed unnaturally sharp. "What do you think? I call this piece the 'true heart of man'."

She delicately placed her hand on the shoulder of one of the mannequins, one of the people.

[JonRG]

"What. the. Christ?" His profession was no stranger to ethical shades of grey, but there was war-time photography, and then there was... this. Andrew jumped at the sound of Purity's voice. She was a freak all right, just not in the way he'd hoped. "Nice teeth. I'm sure your Mummy and your dentist are very proud of you."

"I... I'm not sure what to say." That was the truth. He knew, however, what he wanted to do. Run out the door, get Julie, get the police, get SOMEBODY. "Damn it. These people paid me, so I'm an accomplice now." Andrew's heart pounded. What was Purity going to do with her art?

What was she going to do with him?

[daelrog]

"Oh?" She purred, and this time it sounded more feral. "Why don't you simply say what's on your mind? Are you afraid you'll say the wrong thing?" She laughed, pleasantly, and started to approach him. "Tell me I'm a monster, a freak. Tell you you desire me, still. Tell me how you want to still live." Her smile broadened. "Now there's an idea."

"Oh please, Purity, surely you're not suggesting..." It was a man's voice from the other side of the stage. He was handsome, with narrow eyes. His voice was arrogant and drawl.

"Look at him, he's gorgeous, he'll make a wonderful addition!"

"Purity, this is exactly what holds our Clan back. If we had even half the restraint the Ventrue or Tremere had, we'd be ruling the Camarilla."

"But it's our exess that makes it all worth while."

"Then by all means." The man waved his hand as if giving up.

[JonRG]

Purity's emphasis on "wrong" hit Andrew like a knife in the chest. There was nothing he could say, at this point, to save himself. Numbness washed over him. Eventually, he found voice to speak. "Yes... Everything you say is true." Andrew swallowed away the lump in his throat. "You're, you're very attractive, and smart, and wild, and I don't want to die." He steeled his resolve and looked her in the eye. "Please, there has to be something we can arrange."

[daelrog]

"How average." The man drawled on. "Can we at least get Sasha to vote?"

"Sasha is busy at the moment." A man... a thing came into view. He as fat, but it looked unnatural. His skin had a greyish tint. Tattoos of beastiality covered his shirtless body, and his teeth were gold, and sharp liked an angler fish. "You are right though, that man is gorgeous, though I've seen better."

Purity stepped towards Andrew. "Sean, I've heard rumors about this one. He's kept ahead on his own."

Sean made a sort sound, much like a tsk tsk. "Do we need a lone wolf? I'd be more interested in someone who can succeed within the system." He looked at Andrew. "Oh dear, you must be awfully confused child. You see, we are what you call vampires. If you'd like a demonstration, we can fish one of the immigrants out of Purity's mannequin, and drain them dry if you're a skeptic." He grinned, and it was hideous. He clapped his meaty hands together. "Let's have a hunt. Whichever of you catches him first, wins him. Andrew, if you can stay hidden for at least twenty minutes, we'll let you go... after wiping your memory of course. You have two minutes head start."

And then there was silence. Purity, and the man stood still, not making a movement, almost as if they had been turned into dolls. Sean began looking at his fingernails, filed down to sharp points.

[JonRG]

This new guy was definitely not on his side. He also threw around a lot of odd words. Ventrue. Tremere. Camarilla. Had Andrew stumbled on some sort of organized crime syndicate? Then Sean Loveless arrived. That much was obvious, given the tattoos. Could this night get any worse?

Purity was still voting to... add him. To the collection? No, her tone indicated something of another sort. Oh good. There was talk of a system. A system meant people. He could deal with people. Hell, he could deal with anything that wasn't being trapped in a mannequin while slowly going insane. Andrew rejoined the conversation at vampires. What? Purity wanted to... make him a vampire too? That meant the other guy wanted to straight up murder him. So, go Purity?

Then Sean proposed the hunt. For him. All Andrew had to do was last twenty minutes, and he would get to leave and live and... What was this about a memory wipe? More drugs for his trouble? That sounded fabulous. Probably meant it was a load of crap, but Purity and the other guy were just standing there. Waiting. He didn't give them a chance to change their minds, but bolted for the door that he'd come in through. Of course the front entrance had been sealed off.

Deep breath. Distance. He needed distance.

Andrew dashed up the nearest staircase, then the next. Any further would make him easy prey for whoever decided on a top down search. Thirty seconds down. He sprinted down the hallway, then checked some rooms in search of a good hiding place. Eventually, he found a nice closet. Oldie, but a goodie, filled with flashy costumes and leather. One Frenchman in all black shouldn't garner much notice. Hopefully, because his two minutes had just run out. Now, it was just a matter of staying quiet... and sane. If nothing else, Julie would investigate his disappearance. She and the cops would be clever enough to find his day planner with this address in it. Andrew would be gone, but he'd still have his revenge. Huh. He'd have to remember that bit of leverage for when - if - they caught him. Still freakin' out. Come on. Think of something relaxing. Maman and... that stupid little nursery rhyme she used to sing to Jason. How'd it go? Ainsi font, font, font, les petites marion... ettes. Merde! "Merci beaucoup, Pureté, pour ruiner mon enfance," Andrew thought ruefully, closing his eyes.

[daelrog]

The minutes seemed to tick by slowly. Nothing. No sound, no movement, only silence. He waited, and waited.

Over fifteen minutes passed by, letting Andrew soak in all that he had seen. More than anything else, those blue eyes etched themselves into Andrew's mind. The fear in them. How many hours had that poor soul been trapped in the shell of a mannequin, their arms and legs stretched out into a position a professional dancer usually only held for but a moment.

Then he heard footsteps. They were light, but he could hear them nevertheless. His heart sank as the voice was clearly the man's. "I can smell you, kine. Best come out now, and I'll make it quick."

[JonRG]

Figured out where I want to take this twist, and have a post halfway written, but am friggin' exhausted right now (same time zone as Soras). So I'll edit it in tomorrow morning or summat. :smallsmile:

[JonRG]

Damn. Vampires could smell him? That would have been nice to know beforehand. There was sadly no dignified way to extricate oneself from a closet. He'd known there was a 50-50 chance of The Man being the one to find him, and so spent his fifteen minutes to produce an argument for his survival. It certainly beat any further thought on the poor immigrants' fates...

Andrew was almost relieved at who he saw when he slid out from under the dress rack. Purity was flighty, volatile. She might fancy him now but, six months later, grow bored and throw him in an exhibit. The Man was a pragmatist. It would be easier to convince him than ride the wild wave that was Purity Westbrook. Especially since Andrew knew full well The Man's deepest desire. He wanted power, respect, and, above all, a transcendence of the vapid dilettantism that dominated his world. Andrew could sympathize.

It was all he had ever wanted too.

"You're not like her, are you? Purity - Miss Westbrook - focuses too much on the superficial and the ephemeral." He gestured with the hem of a diaphanous gown to underscore his point. "You want to build a legacy for you and yours, to oust the Ventrue and the Tremere, to win dominance over the Camarilla." Work with enough Eastern European models and you started to develop a knack for pronouncing names. At least, he assumed they were names. "I know how you feel. I'm the same way. This industry doesn't even come close to what I wanted for my career, but it kept me out of my parents' basement and off the ramen diet." Andrew checked the the reaction to his words. The Man looked contemplative. That was a start. "You said I was average before. I admit, I was caught a bit off-guard at first, but I'm not some Bohemian waif who gets by on looks alone. I'm smart, and I know how to work people. I have some rather powerful allies. Knowing the Tribune editor and an Assistant District Attorney can come in especially handy at times. Now, if you let me, I can work those assets on your behalf, rather than say... having them feverishly investigate my disappearance? Sound good?"

Andrew had done his best. Now, he just had to wait... and hope.

[daelrog]

The man laughed. He slapped his knee twice. "I can't believe you fell for it! Vampires? Oh surely you must think that Sean's gold teeth, and those gawdy tattoos are real too? Oh yes, and we kidnap immigrants from time to time to do with them as we please!" He literally fell over, rolling on the ground. "Oh, you're not the first to fall for this one, but let's just say you lot who believe in all this superstition are the minority." His laughter turned into close to a squeal, very undignified, but it did make him seem far less intimidating.

He stood up again, and reached his hand out. "Matthew Donaldson. Sorry for all this, but I'm afraid Purity and I have a bit of a competition to see who can pull off the most elaborate pranks. Oh, I don't blame you if you hate us, but I truly hope you don't."

[JonRG]

He blinked, then burst out in laughter himself. It had all been an idiotic prank. Thank God. He should have suspected that from the get-go, these damned eccentrics. His pride was a bit wounded, but the three grand would do wonders. "Andrew Vassar," he stated, extending his hand to shake Matthew's. The fellow had awfully cold fingers... "Hate's perhaps too strong a word. Annoyed, maybe." He laughed again, but his thoughts lingered on those terrified eyes. How could that have been a prank? No. Something was wrong here, but Andrew didn't know what. Did he even want to know? "So!" he burst out, attempting to mask his apprehension, "What exactly is it that you folks do here, aside from pranking photographers?"

Perception + Empathy:[roll0]

Damn, who knew getting turned into a vampire was so difficult?

[daelrog]

"Oh you know, we try to be patrons of the arts. Trying to get our fingers into the city funds for it too, though so far no luck."

A growing fear was taking over Andrew. Matthew was lying. There was something wrong about it all. Matthew brushed Andrew's arm with a playful, soft hit. The hand was cold. "Come now. Let's go back downstairs and finish the shoot?"

[JonRG]

"Ah..." Andrew muttered vacantly. He wanted to believe Matthew, but a plastic smile and a forced laugh weren't enough to fool him. Hopefully, hopefully, talk of all the people he knew had dissuaded them from murder, and Matt was just trying to get rid of him. Andrew jumped at the playful tap on his shoulder. "How can a guy's hands be so frickin' cold? Felt that through my sleeve." The next question was even more of a puzzle. "Finish? I thought we were done..." The ground floor would be a necessary stop on his way out the door. "All right. Lead the way, then." In his haste, Andrew hadn't exactly acquired the lay of the land.

[daelrog]

They walked back down, Matthew whistling the phantom of the opera as they walked down. They re-entered the room where the mannequins had been. Hollow shells were strewn about the place, and an equall number fo young people, in their late teens to early twenties were they, all gathered around Purity. It was strange though, they were captivated by her. Many looked to have severe bruising, and all appeared exhausted, but they hung on her every breath.

She looked up to see the two walking back.

"I lost again. I was sure you'd run outside, Andrew."

"Not this one, Purity. This one was all for playing the game."

"I see..."

Sean chuckled, the fat around his body shook strangely. "You contradict yourself Purity. He want him to join us, but then you assume the man is a coward." Sean gave a sharp tsk tsk, one that seemed to gut Purity, and for a moment, the people around her looked confused, unti lshe regained her composure. "You." She pointed at Andrew. "Come here."

She is not using presence on him.

[JonRG]

"Phantom, huh?" Andrew had seen it with his family on Broadway a few years ago. The music was fantastic, but the story had been somewhat lacking. "Great, now I'm gonna have that stuck in my head all...night." His gaze fell upon the shattered mannequins and the gaggle of bruised, exhausted young adults that surrounded Purity. "I wasn't seeing things. Okay. No one looks hurt too bad. Guess there's always someone desperate enough to volunteer for anything. See: my entire career." The game? What sort of game did Matthew mean? It certainly wasn't a photo shoot, given that his camera was nowhere to be found. Andrew's brow furrowed as Sean mocked Purity. Her fanclub took issue as well, judging by the confusion that flitted across their faces.

"Come here."

Decision time. Leaving was one option, but he'd definitely be a coward then. Not to mention, Andrew could wind up blacklisted from every shoot in a ten-mile radius. Besides... curiosity had taken over. With a parting glance at Matthew, Andrew crossed the room in a few quick strides. He looked Purity square in the eye and calmly asked, "Yes, ma'am?"

Glad to see this show back on the road. While I was sick on vacation, I cooked up an idea for a picture and got my friend to draw it for me. :smallbiggrin:

http://i.imgur.com/xgsxL.png

[daelrog]

Not bad, I like it. Who's the one on the right?

Purity touched Andrew's chin with the tip of her fingernail, and with the slightest bit of pressure, brought him closer to her. "This has been such an... interesting night. I want to see what happens."

She leaned in close, to nuzzle at his neck, then Andrew felt ecstasy fire up his entire body. Something was in his neck. No, he knew what was happening. Fangs. He was growing weak, but it felt so amazing.

If Andrew tries to resist, do a will power roll, difficulty 10.

[JonRG]

It's Faruq. I put two and two together about Sasha, and the drawing was inspired by where I hoped the story would go. I was not disappointed. :smallsmile:

"Oh... Holy Christ." Superstitious, Matt said. More like 'totally called it...ious.' Comebacks needed work. It was hard to think with teeth sunk into his neck. "I should do something about that, shouldn't I?" Like what? His legs could barely keep him upright, much less take him out the door. Even if he wanted to leave... Andrew pulled Purity tight against him, tracing one shaky hand down her spine.

Then, the blood loss became too much, and all went dark.

[daelrog]

Andrew awoke. He was sitting in a chair. As he groggily woke up, he could see two figures in front of him. One was the assistant of Purity, nameless, plain, and standing transfixed in front of him. The other was Sean Loveless, grinning from ear to ear.

"Hungry dear boy. By all means, dinner is served."

Then it hit. Like a train slamming into him, all went red. He was hungry, starving, desperate. He needed to survive, needed to feed. And in front of him...

Self control if he needs it. Difficulty 8.

[JonRG]

"I am never drinking again," Andrew thought as he had every other Saturday morning since college. It was Thursday, though. He'd scheduled a major gig. Eyes closed, Andrew massaged his temples with one long-fingered hand. What happened? Purity had taken his picture and, and bitten him? He traced a finger at the nape of his neck. No wounds.

Laughter cut through his thoughts. Oh joy. Sean was here in all his rapey glory. "Hungry, dear boy?" Andrew had eaten before he arrived. Then why was he starving? It felt like he might die if he didn't eat something right now. Andrew nodded weakly. "By all means, dinner is served." He dared to crack an eyelid, and Purity's assistant stood before his chair. They hadn't gotten a chance to talk. Andrew didn't even know her name. It was probably a nice, wholesome one. No weird nouns or I endings that were so damn popular in the fashion industry. Amanda, maybe. There was no food. There was just the assistant who looked hypnotized. A knot twisted in the pit of his stomach. She was dinner.

"Oh God. Please, no..."

I figure it's only human to try, regardless of how futile the effort. :smalltongue:

Self-Controll [roll0][/b]

[JonRG]

Posted a follow-up, but didn't like how it read, so I deleted it. :smallredface:

As we all were then.

[daelrog]

Andrew was in pain, he had never been so hungry, so thirsty in his life, but he retained a sense of himself. Whatever he was on, whatever he had become, he was not going to feast on another human being who’s only sin was being an assistant to Purity, a sin that she seemed to being paying for already. The insanity that gripped him faded away, and though he could barely keep his eyes open the way his whole body seemed to throb in pain, he kept hold of his humanity.

Sean waited, and seeing that Andrew would not budge, stood still, and it seemed he paled a bit more, just ever so slightly. For a few seconds he seemed transfixed, dazed, inspired by what he saw. Then a vicious, golden smile grew from his mouth. He titled his head forward, a dark shadow falling across his face. “Yes. Oh yes, I see it now. You. You are a special boy. You run deeper than your blood, oh yes you do.” He walked towards Andrew, almost playfully, as if he were acting in a scene. When he lifted his arm in a dramatic gesture, Andrew knew that Sean was acting out a scene. “Yes. Yes! This is what we’ve been waiting for!” He spun around, and his fat jiggled around strangely, as if it weren’t really flesh. “You will be my brightest star, Andrew Vassar. Purity! Take this dear child of yours to the Prince. See that the town knows there’s a seventh.”

A light tap on the floor signaled Purity’s entrance. Andrew could feel her presence as she came from behind. She held out a large vase of blood in front of him. “Drink Andrew.” She sounded sad and despondent.

[JonRG]

Holy hell. Andrew had surprised Sean frickin' Loveless. Granted, it had taken every last ounce of willpower not to bury his teeth in the assistant (gotta get her name) and drink her dry. Andrew could barely stay conscious, but the girl was alive, and Sean was happy, if his histrionics were any measure. "Purity..." Thank goodness. He wasn't going to be with Sean all night. The mention of a prince piqued his interest. Old-fashioned title, but what other sort of government would ageless terrors of the night have? Purity handed him the container of blood and bade him to drink. Andrew complied. He'd managed to stay sane, but hunger gnawed at him more strongly than ever. While he drank, Andrew wondered what exactly Purity could be so forlorn about. Had he done something wrong? Maybe she was upset to still have an assistant... The question would have to wait until they were alone. The last thing Andrew wanted was to provide Sean with more ammunition.

[daelrog]

"Now, if you'll excuse me dear, dear boy. I have other matters to attend to tonight. No rest for the damned after all." As Andrew drank the blood, and his vision began to clear, Sean seemed to get fuzzier until he faded from view.

"Our car is waiting out front. It will take us to see the Prince." Purity whisked past him like a ghost, not even noticing her assistant still frozen in place. "Follow."

Her weery voice echoed across the room.

3 Blood points total now. Started with one from the embrace, the container had two.

[JonRG]

Andrew leaped up from his chair, nearly bowling over The Assistant. He glanced her way, realized she was still dazed, then continued out the door until he caught up with his sire. "Purity- Mistress, wait!" Andrew liked how the word rolled off his tongue. "Did- did I do something to upset you?" A thought occurred. "If it was all that star crap, I'm pretty sure Sean only said it because of the rhyme." Andrew scratched nervously behind one ear, still new to the spotlight. "Whatever it is... I want to help."

[daelrog]

"It's nothing, Andrews. Simply follow me." She did not respond to anything else he said, until they were outside, and stepping into a car, a black convertable with the top on. Apathetically she stepped into the driver seat, waiting for Andrew. As he stepped in, she began to roll the car forward even before he closed the door.

The car took off.

They drove for about thirty minutes to the outskirts of the city when they arrived at a gate with armed security personal. They gave a quick glance and then let them through. It was the second checkpoint that had the thorough look. Then men had shaved heads, were caucasian, and wore suits.

"Your camera, sir."

[JonRG]

Camera? When did he... Andrew glanced down at his hands, and, lo and behold, there was his Nikon F-601. He must have reflexively grabbed it while rushing out the door. Years of muscle memory could do that to a man. A scowl flitted across his face. "Of course you need my camera. I love taking pictures of vampires because I'm a suicidal idiot!" Then again, given tonight's events, perhaps the epithet suited him. With a groan, he shrugged off the neck strap and gently surrendered his camera. "Be careful. It's delicate." Not to mention expensive as hell.

[daelrog]

The man takes it neither gently, nor roughly. The car continues, and finally stops at the steps of a large manse. It stops by one of the wings. "There's the door you'll enter. You will speak to a woman named Donovon. She is hideous." She closed the door of the car, and drove further along the driveway.

The door in front of him opened. When Andrew walked in there was a single chair, and is was facing... something. It was hunched, and covered in rags. A single, glowing orange eye stared back at him. "Sit down." It rasped.

[JonRG]

"Hideous woman. Donovon. Got it." Wait, what kind of name was Donovon? Andrew pushed through the double doors. Beyond them, an overstuffed chair stood before a figure in a tattered robe. "Cherchez la femme... Guess Purity wasn't kidding." He was morbidly curious, how disfigured someone must be to cover their face in the company of monsters, but presumed it would be in poor taste to ask. Andrew took his seat and tried not to stare too much at her luminescent eye.

[daelrog]

"Another degenerate." The words seem matter of fact. She shuffled closer to Andrew. "What do you know, Andrew? What do you understand about what has just happened to you, what you are?"

[JonRG]

Degenerate, huh? He'd been called worse, but her tone held no malice. Weird. Andrew had more trouble with her question. "Well, Purity an' Sean an' Matt are all vampires, and then she bit me, and..." Come on. Say it. "Now I'm a vampire too." There we go. He sounded like a complete prat, but Andrew had gotten the words out. He'd accepted his fate. "I know that I have to drink blood to survive, but, beyond that, I have no clue about vampires." He'd bought a second-hand copy of Dracula once, but sold it back a day later. Book was boring as all get out.

[daelrog]

A noise came from Donovon, and Andrew couldn't tell whether it was a sigh, a hiss, or something else entirely. "A vampire? You are a dead thing Andrew Vassar. Your life was taken from you tonight. You have no warmth in your body, your heart does not beat. You will never stand understand the sun again, you will be tormented on the inside by an inner monster that wishes to feed and destroy only, and yes, you must feed on the blood of humans to survive."

She turned her back to him, shaking her head. "There are Clans, and you have been embraced to the clan of degenerates, the Toreador wwho spend more time amusing themselves with false beauty. You will be presented in front of the Prince, a kindred who have survived for over five hundred years. He will tell you the laws we follow, and if you show hi respect you will be allowed to stay in Havensworth."

She turned around again, her eyes glowing even brighter. "Do you understand better now?"

[JonRG]

Donovon seemed annoyed. She probably thought Andrew wasn't taking this seriously enough, but after the night of terror with Purity and her crew, he was emotionally drained. The chill had been obvious, but no heartbeat... Andrew rubbed his shoulder, trying to covertly feel for a pulse. Nothing. Well, damn. Andrew hadn't seen much of the sun to begin with since he started in fashion photography. The monster, however, was extremely worrisome. That certainly would explain why Andrew had nearly murdered an innocent woman for sustenance. He would need to look into it later.

Vampires had clans, and Andrew was a Toreador. Probably everyone he'd met at Le Beast was too, and, going by what Matt had said, the Ventrue and the Tremere were rival clans. False beauty? Andrew fought down the urge to protest. After all, Donovon was 'hideous,' so naturally, she would think little of superficial art or the superficial people who peddled it. "Five hundred years old? Damn, that's like, Hundred Years War era... We can survive that long?" It was definitely an accomplishment, one worthy of respect. Besides, finding a place to live was difficult enough with all twenty-four hours in the day to do it. Andrew met Donovon's gaze and nodded. "Yes, ma'am. I do."

[daelrog]

"At least you're obedient. More than I could say for others. Follow." She shuffled along, leading Andrew around what seemed to be circles. Finally they went through side doors. To his left was Purity sitting alone amongst an array of tables. To his right, at the head table overlooking the rest were three individuals. The closest was a creepy looking man. His black hair was greasy and covered much of his face, though eyes stared unblinking at Andrew. In the middle was a goblin like thing from a fantasy movie. It had bat like ears, and a crooked nose, and beedy eyes. Furthest was an attracctive woman with ice blue eyes, and short blonde hair. He could see she had toned arms, like a yoga instructor or personal trainer.

It was the funny looking moster that spoke. "Are you ready to begin?"

[JonRG]

Donovon didn't lead Andrew to a chair, so he remained standing. Two of the Kindred were trying to stare to him to death. Fortunately, that made the goblin (Prince?) much more palatable. In the calmest voice he could muster, Andrew replied, "Yes, sir."

[daelrog]

I'm going to give an overview of it, since it's the same that the others had.

Andrew went through the process. Purity swore to take responsibility for him as he learned kindred ways. Jean du Noir listed out the six traditions, and put them into understandable terms.

"Now kiss my hand, promise to these traidions, and you will be accepted into my city."

[JonRG]

With the basics of the vampire legal code in hand, Andrew knelt before the Prince. "I, Andrew Vassar, hereby swear to obey and uphold the Six Traditions of the Camarilla." He pressed his lips to Jean's ring for an instant, then rose to his feet and awaited further instructions.

[daelrog]

The hand had a stale fishy taste to it. However, his lips didn't melt off at least. "Now then, time for introductions. Unfortunately, six others were embraced last night and most the kindred attended the event. As such your own welcoming is rather... small in comparison. No, kindred being embraced is not so common. Pretty much all the kindred of my city cashed in at the same time. Troubling, really." He smiled and pointed to the woman.

"This is Hayden Cross, Primogen, leader of Clan Brujah. The gentleman who never blinks is Cassidy, Primogen of Clan Malkavian, and my Scourge."

Hayden nodded.

"Hey." Cassidy continued to stare.

"You've already met Sean Loveless, your own Primogen. The other three are busy attending to the newly embraced I would imagine." His smile deepened. "It looks like your sire has abandoned you. The Toreador are known to be fickle after all. Still, stay, have some drinks with us, we were discussing the affairs of the city before you arrived."

If Andrew looked around, he would see that Purity was nowhere in sight.

[JonRG]

So it would just be him, a few of the Camarilla's elders and - Andrew glanced over one shoulder, and his heart sank to see Purity wasn't there. She must have gotten bored and snuck out. Forgivable. There had been about five minutes straight of Old Modern English. A niggling part of Andrew's mind wondered if he wasn't making excuses for her, but he quashed it in short order. Besides, how often did one get to drink with such important people? "Drink. Oh yes." He'd gotten enough blood to slake the monster, but the thirst still lingered. Nodding gratefully, Andrew eased himself into a chair and waved down one of the servants skulking about the room. "That sounds delightful. Hopefully I didn't miss too much of the conversation?"

[daelrog]

Soon Andrew had his own seat, and blood was served.

"Now then Cassidy, do you think I should have you cull the herd a little bit? Surely they can't all be following the rules."

"I dunno."

Jean eyed Cassidy, then Andrew. "You take your work too seriously. I could hardly get a word in, now you're silent. Can you help Ms. Cross."

She shrugged her shoulders. "I won't tell him how to do his job."

Jean shook his head in defeat. "So Andrew, tell me what you think of kindred life so far. What's your impression of the other Toreador?"

[JonRG]

Darn, I had a post partly written, but then I lost it. Spent too much time pondering the question. Ah well, let's roll.

Andrew's eyes flared slightly over his glass. The existence of a kindred executioner shouldn't surprise him; every Tradition called for death if broken. It certainly put Cassidy's stare in a new light. He would have to remain on guard. Clearly, Jean had struck up that conversation for a purpose. Was it a show of force, or a friendly warning? Andrew hoped for the latter and drained his glass. He started, slightly when Jean addressed him directly. "It's... interesting. I'm amazed that all this," he gestured at the room, "has been kept hidden from outsiders for so long. Definitely not an easy feat. As for the Toreador... They're eccentric, but a good sort." Bull. Purity wouldn't have ditched you if she cared. Andrew suppressed the thought and gestured with his empty glass at a servant.

[daelrog]

Hayden laughed, cold and cruel.

Jean inspected Andrew closer. "A good sort? I believe you're the first to say that about them. As for the masquerade, it all comes down to one thing really. People don't want to believe in us. There are breaches in the masquerade. Kindred need to be staked and left to the sun, people have to disappear, it's a mess really. However, what helps us most is that most people who here rumors of kindred think it's make believe.

"Why, most kine who have seen me think I'm wearing a costume. You're right, it's no easy feat to maintain the masquerade, but it's more than possible."

Hayden interjected. "Jean, you've yet to give me an answer about Al."

"I have given you an answer, you just didn't like it."

Hayden's fist clinched. "She's reckless, she's a failure at her post, and more will die because of her."

"It's a sad day when a Brujah claims others are reckless. I don't want you interferring iwth this. I'd like to see how this plays out. If the hunter slips through her fingers, you have my leave to handle your grievance as you see fit. Until then tend to whatever other affairs you have."

She leaned back. "You, pretty boy. Are you in the mood for a game."

Jean sighed. "Say no Andrew, it's a trap."

"Oh come on. It'll be fun. What do you say... Andrew was it?" She had a desirous look in her eyes.

[JonRG]

Alarm bells rang in his head at Hayden's request. Andrew had tried his hand at Sean's game, and look where it had gotten him. She was hot though, not to mention, if his own sire would abandon him here, perhaps it couldn't hurt to cultivate more contacts. "While I respect your input, Monsieur du Noir, I should like to hear more about this particular opportunity. That's not a yes," he added quickly. "I'm just curious the exact situation. I've had quite enough "games" for one night." Andrew pondered a moment. "Might it have something to do with this Al who is so eminently unqualified for her job? Perhaps you could apprise me of that matter as well?" His tone and a few sideward glances intimated that the latter might have to wait until the Prince and his Scourge were no longer in earshot. He smiled at Hayden and took another sip.

[daelrog]

"No, the Al situation is something else entirely." Hayden leaned towards Andrew, as if actually looking at him for the first time. "I want you to tell me who you hate the most in Havensworth. If there was just one person, man, woman, child, whoever, that you'd like to hurt, who would it be?"

Jean sighed. He looked over to Cassidy who was of no help. "I swear, I miss the early nights when the Camarilla was just a seedling, and I could still speak with the Tzimisce. At least they were decent guests and hosts." He stood up. "If you would all excuse me, I have a city to run. You can vacate the premise at your convience."

He walked away, wanting nothing to do with whatever Hayden had in mind.

[JonRG]

Have a lot of personal stuff going on at the moment, so sorry I missed today's post. I'll try to have something up during the day after I sleep.

[JonRG]

"Ah. So Marry, Bang, Kill without the Marry or the Bang?" Andrew smiled, eyes closed. He'd always been the bangable one, Julie was marriage material, and poor Jason always wound up dead. "Well, the only people I'd ever actually wanted to hurt have all move across country or international by now." The trap was obvious. Drop a name, and their head gets sent to you in a box. Not a fate he would wish on anyone. "Enough about me, though. I'm curious as to the current state of affairs in Havensworth. I mean all I've heard so far is that the sun is bad, blood is good, the monster's bad, and that's it. So, if you wouldn't mind, I'd love to at least know a little something about this hunter and the incompetent bureaucrat who abets him." Hayden was clearly frustrated about the matter, which meant she was more likely to talk. If life-saving (or unlife-extending) information was off-limits, Andrew would at least settle for some gossip.

A little Manipulation+Persuasion to make her warm up to him, or Charisma. It's the same dice.

[roll0]

Also, -2 difficulty because she can see him in all his sexiness. :smallbiggrin:

[JonRG]

Well godDAMNIT. FML.

[daelrog]

You know, I admit this was my reaction seeing those numbers: :smallbiggrin:

Hayden's eyes narrowed, and her mood darkened. "No, I think I'm going to kill someone tonight, and you are going to tell me who, or I'll just find a stranger off the street." She leaned further away from him. "It's your choice."

Andrew heard a slurping sound.

He turned to see Cassidy sucking on the last remains of some blood in a plastic pouch. "Sorry." Cassidy didn't sound sorry.

EDIT:
I'm going to rule that Andrew won't be able to use his social attributes effectively against hayden now. He'll have to use his intelligence and wits and whatnot if he wants to change things.

[JonRG]

Well, that's too bad. I remember this ST I know saying, "Nine times out of ten, I value RP over dice," but clearly I'm twice-cursed on anything involving ten options.

I'll post a reply tomorrow, as this cold and I really have to get to sleep. I will try for a scintillating display of wit to knock Hayden's socks off. :smallamused:

P.S. I get this nagging sense that you're taking umbrage with my character's lack of a freak-out to all of these events. Is there any truth to that, or am I way off-base here? It's just a vibe I got.

[daelrog]

No umbrage on my end. I've actually enjoyed things thoroughly with Andrew. I'm not throwing any extra curveballs at him than I would have otherwise.

As for RPing vs. dice rolling, I've been using the dice to tweak the results more than dictating the response. Hayden is an angry Brujah who just lost her childer a night ago, and wants to take it on something. Her Brujah passion is making her want to convince Andrew to see things her way. Her Brujah anger is making her result to coercion and threats to make him see things her way.

Let's avoid rolling for a bit. If you had rolled well I would have tweaked things to where she would have considered dropping the subject. Since you botched, I tweaked it to where she's put off with Andrew. It's the same for other characters, take for example Rick's interactions with Cavet.

Cavet is toady weasel, and started to act like a cornered animal under a thin veil of pride when Rick approached him. He wasn't going to squeal to Rick, not with Beatrice right there. A good roll might have tweaked it to Cavet lying to Rick [poorly lying] to try to get Rick to leave him alone, or may have tried to call out to Beatrice or Eddie for some help. However, Rick botched and so I tweaked it into Cavet really acting like a cornered animal. In the end things turned out very poorly for Rick, but he earned an enemy, something to overcome, and a better understanding of his limitations in the process. Truth be told I wanted Rick to win the fight, but I'm okay with him losing in the short run.

So I do apologize if I seemed heavy handed. It's really not my intent. What I am trying to do is just make small defeats here and there a real possibility, but even if a character does fail, I try to open up new doors through that experience. Sean Loveless taking an interest in Faruq only happened because Faruq went out of line, and because he was humiliated. Sean would have never bothered with Faruq if he had just gone through the night doing as he was told. However, now Faruq has a new ally, the silver lining to his trajedy. I hadn't even imagined Faruq and Sean having this meeting until events of the first night inspired the current scene with him.

Hopefully some of that made sense. So no worries on my end. As I said, let's avoid the dice for a bit, and let's have Andrew try to reason with the angry Brujah lady.:smallcool:

[JonRG]

Apologies for the bitterness. Illness + death in family = very touchy Nyarai. :smallredface:

"Way to go, Andy. You pissed her off." No, she was already pissed. He just presented an easy target. "While I appreciate your offer, Ms. Cross, I shall have to decline." Thank your lucky stars, Harry. Thank them. "I haven't been directly responsible for someone's death yet, and I shouldn't like to start now." Andrew reflexively took a deep breath and continued, "I understand that you're upset at Jean, and Al, and the unfortunate situation they've put you - all of us - in. However, while I assume you find murder very cathartic, it's only going to reinforce Jean's opinion about your temper. Not to mention the time wasted finding and eliminating a target without violating the Masquerade... It seems like a rather large headache just to blow off a little steam. Between you and me, I think there are easier, more productive ways to achieve the same end." God, how Andrew wished Cassidy wasn't here! It was hard to have an actual conversation with him lurking. Hopefully, Hayden would get the hint, and they could continue the conversation later, or in private. He took another sip, hoping to distract himself from that damnable stare.

[daelrog]

Hayden's face seemed no less put off, but she it was as angry, more of disappointed. "Fledgelings." She nearly spit the word out. "It's like trying to talk to an undergraduate student about their studies, think cause they read a book the Vietnam War makes them experts on the subject." She turned to Cassidy. "Say, your Clan knows auspex, right? Know enough to pull out a name for me. What disciplines do you even know?" She scrutinized the Scourge.

Cassidy only stared at her for a long six seconds before shrugging.

She pointed accusingly at Andrew. "You have no idea about my temperment. Each Clan has an individual curse, something that makes our unlives that much more unpleasant. Yeah, I frenzy. I frenzy a lot." Andrew didn't have to ask what it meant, he still remembered clearly all going to red, barely able to restrain himself. If he hadn't...

"Still better than yours though. Have a nice time with whatever art you do cause everytime something seems perfect, just wonderful, you're going to stop dead in your tracks and stare, unable to do anything else. Your passion is your undoing." She leaned back, her face bitter and spiteful. She sighed. "You don't understand what it's like. You come back after your childe, your confidant, your lover leaves you for someone else, then gets himself killed before he can make things right."

No worries. Life takes the rug out from under us too often.

[JonRG]

"Your passion is your undoing." So he'd never be able to create actual art ever again? It would be models and pointless dreck until the end of time? Andrew casually rubbed his temples, but inside, he raged: at Purity, for condemning him to this fate; at Harry, for mocking his life's work; and at himself, for not fighting back any harder. It wasn't a frenzy, just blind hatred. "Forget Hayden. I'll go kill the bastard myself." Then again... his sister would probably be upset if her husband just up and died. "Julie... Damn it, what the hell am I supposed to tell her?" Andrew finally managed to compose himself enough to look Hayden in the eyes. "I'm just calling things as I see them. If I don't see them right, it's because no one could be assed to tell me how." Temper... "Though, I definitely appreciate the clan curse info, and my condolences on the death of your childe." That could explain all the bad blood with Al and this hunter. Andrew kept his mouth shut, figuring Hayden will continue the conversation if she wants to.

If she doesn't say anything, Andrew will break the silence and ask, "Sooooo... what do you think the odds are that Purity's gonna come back? Zero to none?"

[JonRG]

OOC: There are still a few players who don't know of the impending plot twist. (When you went to ground for a few days, Strawbs and Lok apparently checked 'all posts by daelrog'). So I'mma cast my vote here for Sean frickin' Loveless. :smallcool:

[daelrog]

I figured a few people would have figured it out by now. Heck, I even had Josef casually mention yet another embrace to Erica.

"Somewhere in between." Hayden's mood softened up a bit with her quip. "She's moody, that one. She's probably not going to be all that much help to you." She sighed. "Since you're not interested in having any fun, I might as well get some kicks by feeling useful. Anything you want to know about being one of the living dead." Hayden seemed disinterested, by her offer was legitimate.

Cassidy on the other hand leaned forward, more than was polite to hang on Andrew's every word.

[JonRG]

Crisis averted. Good. Cassidy was clearly going to stay, but there was little Andrew could do about that. Might as well get some questions answered. "Uh... any weaknesses aside from sunlight, any strengths or powers, and any general advice on how to not get killed... again?"

[daelrog]

"Mm, survival. Most ask that first. Some think it's because with an eternity ahead of us, life becomes that much more important. However, I think it's more the fact that a recently embraced kindred has faced death that brings the question out." Her anger was subsiding, and she was turning more philosophical. "Sunlight, fire, usually beheading a kindred will get the job done, usually. True faith is anathema to us, though I'd be surprised if there was even one individual who possessed it in this city. A stake to the heart will paralyze us. There are other monsters that you should be careful of.

"For powers, call them disciplines, Andrew. We can heal injuries, we can make ourselves physically stronger. Your Clan usually has celerity, presence, and auspex. The first is supernatural speed, the second emotions, and the last perception. Other Clans have different strengths, but you'll learn them in time, and I don't intend to list out everthing.

"If you wish to survive, the best thing is to find a niche to call your own. Be useful to other kindred if they call on you, but don't make them feel as if they're no longer needed."

"And watch out for angels."

Hayden looked at Cassidy with a very curious look at his comment.

[JonRG]

Good to see I was right about Sean. He topped a relatively short list because he was one of the few with a truly distinct personality. A lot of your cast's voices bleed together. :smallconfused:

I'm out of things to say to the Primogen, and I feel the conversation's gone on long enough. I think I'm gonna have Andy head home to his beloved darkroom. :smallcool:

By the way, if Andy's been knocking back glasses for much of the night, how many blood points would he have gained?

Andrew quirked a brow when Cassidy spoke. "Right... I'll be sure to. Thanks very much for the information, and the drinks." He rose from the table. "Do you think someone on Jean's staff could give me a ride home?"

[daelrog]

Yeah, something I'm working on still. Hard when many are explaining the same things, but after the time leap when everyone knows the basics, hopefully the NPCs will be able to act as themselves more than as teachers.

And I'll be able to define them more in my mind.

As for blood, let's say he's got 4 more blood points.


Both Hayden and Cassidy shrugged, but as soon as Andrew found a servant, his request was granted. It was a small sedan with darkened, bullet proof windows. The driver took Andrew to his place on instruction.

It was empty, no one was there. He was all alone to cotemplate his death, and rebirth in the confines of his home.

I'll let you finish how you want. Go ahead and take 10 XP for your embrace, and a full night, and for staving off his thirst.

[daelrog]

Oh, also, add one to your self control and put a dot in retainers. :smallcool: Once everyone finishes the night, we'll move you to the main IC thread.

[JonRG]

Woo, so Amanda (if that's her real name :smalltongue:) is my best bud now? Can I use more points to make her a slightly better retainer? Did she come pre-ghouled? I'm just full of questions, aren't I? :smallbiggrin:
Andrew sighed and half-stumbled through the front door. His gaze remained on the ground. He'd collected (and made) a lot of art over the years. Andrew wondered if he'd be able to look at any of it again. Andrew yanked one frame off the wall, which held the one oil painting he made that was actually good. It even won a local award. "Now," Andrew thought, edging his way into the darkroom. "Let's see if Hayden's talking out of her ass or not." He turned on a small lamp and held the canvas beneath it.

The door clicked shut, but Andrew barely noticed. His composition hadn't just been good; it was sublime. Nameless emotion flooded through him. The hours flew by. Andrew didn't even notice dawn's approach until sleep overwhelmed him.

[daelrog]

No to both. She is not a ghoul (yet). And, at the moment she is worth one dot of retainer only, hence why she was so dispensible. However, with some time she'll grow, probably without even the need to spend freebies.

[JonRG]

Righto. Rogan found one of his ghouls disposable, so I figured it couldn't hurt to ask. :smallbiggrin:

(I know Charlie made a huge mistake, but for all I know, Amanda did too.)

EDIT: By the way, can her name be Amanda? I've been calling her that in my head for the last month now, and it wouldn't feel right to stop now. :smalltongue:

[daelrog]

Amanda works fine for me. I'll flush out some details with her when we make the time skip. Just need to finish Amy and Danielle's night.

[JonRG]

Hooray! Also, fun fact: Amanda is apparently Latin for "worthy of love." Only better name etymology would be "luckiest bitch on the damn planet." :smallbiggrin:

By the way, with regards to the earlier conversation (about characters), I'm always happy to chat about general writing stuff, and I could also provide feedback about the campaign. (Both my prelude and the main game.) Though, fair warning, mine would be a little less... universally positive than your typical fare. :smallconfused: However, I'd be honest, gentle, and try not to nitpick grammar, diction and syntax (too much).

Lemme know if you're interested, and also, throw out a particular aspect you'd want feedback on. Sans guidance, I'm more likely to wander into the pedantic stuff like comma usage, European history, and other frivolities. :smalltongue:

[daelrog]

It's tempting, but I'm going to hold out for now. I have a few ideas of where to go with for some of the more stoic characters, and we're about to enter a good deal of plot to motivate the characters and to get into things beyond simply getting used to the vampiric condition. Once both of those happen, I'll be more than happy to talk. Want to make sure I don't have at least some of the stuff covered first though.

[JonRG]

Wonder how many people will finally catch on to the extra player. :smallwink:

Incidentally, if darling Amanda has fallen by the wayside, and you're just like, "Ugh, I don't want to wrangle all these players AND make a new NPC. Rawr," then lemme know, and I'll be happy to write up a little ghoulette. :smallsmile: