Title:The Placeholder
Night 1 Part 2
I wandered about sort of lost but eventually, I found the Last Round.
The human barman looked like he was about to shoo my underage ass outside when Damsel abruptly waved him off. Probably a local ghoul then. Would make sense with all the vampires hanging about in one spot. I should pick up Auspex at some point so I can see auras.
There were a couple other vampires here that I hadn't seen at the meeting LaCroissant had called last night. Presumably they were some of the local Anarchs - considering this was an Anarch bar - and Damsel wasn't giving them the same angry and suspicious looks she was giving me.
Kinda made her look kinda constipated in my opinion to be honest.
And speak of the devil.
"What're you doing here Cammy?" She asked aggressively, stepping in my way and causing me to either stop or walk face first into her tits.
My Beast snarled in outrage at the disrespect. I blinked at her while pushing the Beast back down. Then I deliberately inhaled to let out an exasperated sigh. Fucking Brujah.
I raised an unimpressed eyebrow, because what the fuck? "And what, may I ask, about last night made you think I'm part of the Camarilla?"
"Why wouldn't I? Sure you made LaCroix look like an idiot, but then you went on about presenting yourself and rattling off all these fancy foreign traditions and then acting all smug about it." She said aggressively, which really wasn't helping my Beast any.
Fucking Brujah idiots. I thought I'd made the right impression on the Anarchs last night, but I seemed the communist revolutionary was of a different opinion.
"You saw me present myself to the Prince and explain the Traditions, and afterwards your Brujah brain immediately jumped to 'ooh she's Camarilla' and completely ignoring everything else about my interaction with the Prince or how the other elders were reacting." I said slowly -very slowly - as if talking to a particularly dim-witted child.
Because seriously, what the fuck?
Sure I remember her personality pissing me off in-game with her general attitude, but I was kinda hoping it'd be different in real life.
And no Beast, I'm not going to rip her limbs off and drink her dry for the insult - as satisfying as it'd probably be in the moment - just because she's being uppity. Shush you.
"Know what, don't give a shit. Think what you want." I said flatly, fangs bared. "Bearington and me're here to see your elders.
You can either move out of my way or not, your choice. But I suggest the first, childe."
I glanced at the others in the bar, a few different combat plans running through my head in case this turns bad. A lot of this will depend on if the other Anarchs jump in or not. I don't want to have to beat some people up before I get taken seriously.
Especially since I'm so weak at the moment.
I can still probably take them. Between being able to blood buff all my physical stats to maximum in an instant, the fact my illusions can actually hurt people. Oh and I can heal a ridiculous amount of damage all at once simply due to the fact there's no limit to how much vitae I can spend at a given moment.
Well sorta, the limit is the actual amount of vitae I have. I should have enough in the tank to get me through this. Especially since they have just seem to have bludgeoning weapons on them, like bats, chains and knuckle dusters so I'm liking my chances of soaking whatever hurt they dish out before I rip them limb from limb and feast on their bl-
Damnit! I shoved my Beast down again.
A stern voice killed any chance of the impending fight from breaking out. "Damsel let her through."
Ah, Jack. Standing on the stairs, looking tense and worried about the impending violence.
The communist redhead spun round to face Jack. "But-"
"Damsel." He warned. Everyone in the room reading how tense he was.
"Fine." She stomped away. If I still breathed I'd have sighed with relief. I didn't really want to fight, my Beast aside. It's just her personality made her so damn punchable.
Instead I shrugged and followed Jack up the stairs, ignoring the grumbling redhead. He led us over to a table near the back of the empty upstairs room and sat down before gesturing for me to sit.
"So what brings you here?" He asked once I'd sat down and put Beorn in my lap.
"Just stopping by. Already paid LaCroissant a visit earlier so I figured I'd visit the Anarchs next. Didn't expect the unwelcome welcome though." I pouted.
"LaCroissant. Ha! Oh I like that. Prince is as flaky as a pastry too. Ha ha ha." Jack devolved into amused laughter.
I grinned. "Definitely needs knocking down a peg or two. How'd he even wind up as prince here in the first place? From what I know L.A is supposed to be Anarch turf, isn't it?"
"Damn war. We took a beating against the damn Kuei-jin at first, but eventually pushed them back. In the aftermath the Camarilla goons set up shop in L.A and sent LaCroix over to oversee their interests or whatever you'd call it." He gave a 'what can you do' shrug. "And after all that shit the Kuei-jin now hold Chinatown and we have to put up with Camarilla pricks sticking their powdered noses in our business."
"And the Sabbat? Where do they fit into this powder keg?"
"Ah, those assholes showed up a couple months ago to cause shit. They start causing trouble and then stop once we kick their teeth in. You'd think they'd learn not to stick their dicks in a blender, hah."
"So anything fun to do around here? Gotta keep myself amused somehow while waiting for the fireworks."
"Pity you weren't here a little sooner. Sabbat're causin' shit again so Nines grabbed some of the boys to go deal with the assholes."
"Wondered where he was. Wanted to say hi since he's basically the local Baron."
"Hah! He'd be the first to say he's not a leader." The ex-pirate replied, tapping a hand on the table in time with the song's beat.
"If he says so." I chuckled before giving him a serious look. "And speaking of leaders…"
"Oh no. I aint no leader." He disagreed.
"Closest thing I have at hand at the moment. They respect and listen to you at any rate. I just want you to spread the word to the locals that I'm indifferent to this whole sect thing for the moment, can you do that for me?" I asked with a sweet smile that Jack wasn't buying. "Besides, it gets annoying to put hot-headed brats like the one downstairs back in their place all the time."
Okay I'm totally blustering on that last point, but he thinks I'm a super scary second gen ancient so I gotta act the part.
"Yeah I can do that. Outta curiosity though, what would ya have done to Damsel if she hadn't backed down."
"Something like this." I said with a negligent wave of my hand, snaring him in Horrid Reality. "But nastier. I can be petty when I want."
Horrid Reality is a real fun illusion power. Mentally tiring, but instead lets me project hallucinations straight into the target's mind along with the usual external illusion shenanigans. The main benefit is the target fully believes in the illusionary scene they experience, including damage it causes, it within reason of course.
Like if I had conjured a massive fire breathing dragon and had it attack him then Jack would've actually taken injuries from it. However on the other hand it's pretty obvious that a fire breathing dragon shouldn't be here and he'd likely be able to figure out it was an illusion and eventually ignore it.
Now with illusions you want to be subtle. I also don't actually want to harm Jack. I opted for Horrid Reality however over the other illusions I could do because it's easier to do on the really fast on the fly adjustments based on his own movements and reactions.
Such as say, making myself appear to be wearing different outfits and even different makeup styles each time he blinks.
And so I suddenly went from wearing casual street clothes with a teddy on my lap to wearing a funeral shroud and veil while Beorn looked like a pile of malformed rotting meat sitting in my lap. Complete with smell, dripping blood and illusionary flies.
"The fuck!" He leapt back off his seat, and blinked.
I was in a schoolgirl uniform, regular old boring backpack on my lap.
"Well… that's certainly a thing. Chimerstry?" He asked with a frown.
"Yup. It's great, aint it?" I giggled with a toothy smile. "The humans have a saying: I reject your reality and substitute my own."
Deciding to extend on that point I changed again, not waiting for the blink. The hallucinations I was showing him wavered like in a mirage, slowly shifting to leave me clad in typical Anarch biker leathers, arms wrapped around a small drum of gas as if hugging it and lighter in my hands. "I can lie to reality hard enough that even false burns hurt."
I made sure he could smell the unmistakable scent of kerosene in the air.
Another flex and with a shower of sparkles I was in a fancy corset and long flowing dress, diamond-studded tiara on my head and butterflies fluttering about. Beorn was now a large and fluffy stuffed unicorn. "Or maybe I'd have done something else, I can be pretty creative after all. Then again I didn't really come here to fight." I shrugged.
"Please stop doing that." He asked.
"Fine, spoilsport...." I sighed, releasing him from Horrid Reality and resuming my usual gothic look.
Just in time too. Damsel poked her head into the room, still scowling. Like damn, that is a serious case of resting bitch face. "Jack, Nines and the boys are back." She informed the old pirate, then scowled at me and headed back downstairs.
I hopped off my seat. "Well gonna go say hi to your totally-not-a-Baron Baron. Anyways spread the word please. I'd prefer not to have to get serious on bratty youngsters that should know better. Good chat." I grinned at him and skipped over to the stairs.
I paused just before heading down, turning back to give him a charming smile. "Oh, and if Brook pops by help her out okay. Poor little baby bird could use more people in her corner until she can learn to fly on her own."
The four-hundred plus year old pirate gave me a serious nod. I grinned back, single fang still poking through my lip cutely, then left him to his thoughts as I tried not to giggle.
Bullying Jack is just so much fun. Pretending to be a super scary ancient vampire is hilariously fun!
And the experience point I just received means even Big G agrees.
I boogied down the stairs along with the music. Say what you want about the Anarchs, they have some good taste in tunes.
And there's Nines and Skelter, along with a bunch of other Anarchs. They looked like they were having a strategy meeting of some sort over a map of L.A.
Well time to go say hi. I skipped my way over to the booth and plopped my ass down on the table itself. "Hi. I'm Pandora." I gave them a little wave, ignoring how the majority of them bristled at my sudden appearance. Skelter went to speak, but stopped when Nines put a hand on his shoulder, gave a glance to the other Anarchs before flicking his eyes meaningfully at the bar.
They took the hint and left the table, leaving me alone with Nines and Skelter.
"Evening. I'm Nines. This is Skelter. Can I help you with something?" He asked. His posture and voice was relaxed, but there was still a slight bit of tension. Guess he'd spoken with Jack at some point earlier I got here as he was definitely too young to know what the shit I was spouting last night alluded to.
Just wish they'd given the damn communist the message too…
"The other way round actually." I said, crossing my legs and swinging myself round to face them both properly, still sitting on the table. I shifted Beorn down into my lap. "Downtown is sort of your Domain, so I'm offering a major boon, since I'm a guest here and you're the Baron. Mr Bearington says manners are important."
"I'm no Baron, miss." He instantly argued.
"Doesn't make it any less true." I shrugged, waving off his denial of being the leader here. "Anyways the offer is only available while I'm in L.A. Limited time offer, get it while it's hot."
"And how long is that?" Skelter asked, butting in.
I tilted my head consideringly. "Ten more days, eleven maybe? No longer than two weeks anyways." Unless of course Caine wants to hang around longer.
They glanced at each other, having a silent conversation with their eyes alone. Then Nines started talking.
"Actually we do have something we could use help with." Nines he mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "May be some danger in it, but Jack says you're older than he is so you should be able to handle it."
"Well danger isn't my middle name, but Calamity may as well be." I grinned toothily. "What do you need?"
Sidequests for more experience points! Gimme!
"Involves one of our boys, Maurice, damn good smuggler." Skelter began to explain. "He was runnin' an important shipment o' gear for us. Thing is now he's missin'."
"You check his haven?" I asked the obvious question first.
"Doesn't have a fixed one. Guy's a Gangrel like me. Likes ta sink into the ground and ride out the daylight when dawn comes." Skelter added, pointing at a spot that had been circled on the map in pencil. "He usually lairs 'round this area."
"Any ghouls?" I asked the next obvious question.
"Two. Both missin'." Skelter scribbled something down on a scrap of paper and handed it to me. "This is their address. May be the best place to start."
Nines took up the conversation again. "Maurice was supposed to contact us, night before last. If you can't find him then at least find out what happened to the gear he was bringing in. Last thing we need is surplus military ordinance falling into the wrong hands."
Sidequest get!
"Me and Bearington can give it a go." I said, eager to agree but not letting it show on my face. "There a time limit?"
"Not as such, but sooner is better than later. Those damn Kuei-jin have been too quiet lately while the Sabbat are causin' all kinds of headaches."
"Right then. We'll see what we can do." I said cheerily, swinging back around and slipping off the table while slinging Beorn back over my shoulder.
I already had some ideas, but I'll worry about that later.
"Seeya guys." I waved a cheeky two fingered salute at the assorted Anarchs and Damsel as I headed back out into the cool night air.
I wandered about the streets of L.A trying to figure out what to do next.
Let's see. I've bothered LaCroix, done some hunting, bullied Jack and even gotten myself a sidequest from Nines. Hmm, maybe I should track down Brook and see how she's doing. Ooh I can stop by Trip's pawn shop while I'm at it. I don't actually need all these knives or pistols I've picked up.
I paused as I saw a purple glowing sigil and blinked at it. Ah, the Tremere chantry. I briefly pondered heading inside but decided against it. I'd always enjoyed the Tremere playthrough in the game as it was the only way to play a kickass blood mage, but dealing with the Tremere in real life is something else entirely.
Instead I wandered about more, found the Confession club and got denied entry. Being a vampire is amazing because I'm gonna be fourteen forever, but it's also an issue here because I'm gonna be fourteen forever.
Stupid age limits on nightclubs. Damn, this means I probably won't get to meet the absolute sweetheart that is VV either. If I can't even get into a goth nightclub there's no way I'll be getting into a strip club.
Ugh, this is gonna make getting in to see the Voermans a problem as well isn't it?
I wandered around dejectedly for a bit before getting a lift from Caine back to Santa Monica. No need to pay cab fare either, nepotism for the win. Once we were back I went to go see Trip.
He was surprisingly chill about buying obviously second hand guns and other weapons from a teenage girl. Probably because he was absolutely baked. Feeling happy about things, and with a new second hand phone for Brook and some fresh cash burning a hole in Beorn's backside I waved goodbye and walked across the road to the alleyway next to the clinic. I didn't go inside, instead I headed down the alleyway and then entered the door that led downstairs to the blood bank.
Vandal Cleaver - the ghoul of Therese 'Queen Bitch' Voerman - was even creepier in real life than he was in-game. Like dang, even a socially blind moron would be able to tell he's completely unhinged.
The real question is was he always like this or is the constant drinking of Malkavian blood making his innate shit even worse? Eh, not like I really care either way so long as he sells me blood.
I suspect I may have gotten a little ripped off, but whatever. It wasn't even my money to start with and there's probably plenty more muggers in L.A I can get more from.
What next? I don't really want to go find the missing Maurice just yet. I think it'd be better if I did a little brainstorming on my future discipline before I went for that. Best to get basics figured out first, maybe grab some more magic too?
Oh yeah, there's also the thin-bloods on the beach! I should go see them, and bring some blood bags as gifts since I'm not sure how good they are at hunting. Although I don't have enough to share with everyone at the moment. Hmm, I suppose I could go bother Caine for a bit? He's probably been pretty lonely wandering about all these years alone.
Even better I think that's his cab up ahead.
I opened the door and hopped inside. "Hi Sire."
"Childe."
"Wanna hang out?" I asked, hoping to do some Sire-Childe bonding stuff. "Maybe we could go see a late night movie. There's a new one out tonight that I heard about on the radio."
He stared impassively at me in the rearview mirror.
"Please?" I hit him with my best puppy dog eyes.
"Where were you even keeping that?" I whispered quietly as Caine handed me a blood bag he pulled from somewhere.
We were sitting in the back row of the almost empty cinema. It was pretty late after all.
My Sire said nothing, instead deciding to turn his attention back to the screen as the movie began to play.
I shrugged. I guess it didn't really matter where it came from. I'd left Beorn in the taxi since I wasn't allowed bags inside the cinema. I bit into a corner of the bag with a sharp fang and slowly began to sip. Not as good as when I had hunted for the fresh stuff, but still good enough to enjoy during a movie.
Not sure what I expected from a movie based on a show about a guy whose dead wife was now a ghost possessing an ATM, but I was pleasantly surprised when the movie actually turned out to be somewhat entertaining. Also I see you trying to hold in a laugh there Sire. You're not fooling me.
I lay atop the bed in my pajamas while my Sire sat next to me, thumbing through an ancient-looking book he'd pulled from 'somewhere'.
It was a peaceful moment. We rested in a comfortable silence as we listened to the music the radio was softly playing in the background.
A peaceful moment that I inevitably messed up by being me.
"What were they like?" I asked quietly, breaking the silence. "My siblings?" I knew this could be a touchy subject, however I was curious to know what my fellow Second Generation kin had been like. Beyond the myths and legends.
My Sire inhaled slowly and then sighed out with equal slowness. I was hit by the sudden realisation that he was always breathing. He wasn't undead like the rest of us.
He simply couldn't die. Not until the One Above let him.
That fact never really occurred to me until I heard that oh so tired, world-weary sigh just so full of regret and sorrow. I felt immediate guilt and was about to apologise when he reached out a hand and patted me on the head.
"Not now." He told me, then shifted to look to the side with far-seeing nostalgia. "Eventually." He relented.
"Okay." I said softly. I waited a moment before deciding to ask. "Can I ask what the First City was like?"
He was silent for a moment, still gently patting my head. I thought he wasn't going to answer before he suddenly began to speak. His voice was soft and his accent heavy as he spun a tale of an ancient settlement built upon the shores of a vast freshwater lake and surrounded by fields and orchards and how it slowly transformed into a city of true grandeur and beauty…
He spoke until the sun came up and I slipped into daysleep.