[VtR][Mature] Born into Darkness: Preludes and Nocturnes

Celeste looks over at Archer, "It. went. fine.," she says obviously struggling to control some sort of powerful emotion.

Frank waves from the front seat, catching Celeste's eye in the rear view mirror"There is no reason to hold things in, madam".

Archer looks back at Celeste in time to see Celeste's heel hitting his face. Fangs extended, snarling she's on him like a wild cat, punching, and biting.

As Archer reflexively moves to protect himself he feels the car swerving to the side of the country road and stopping.

Biggs' Prelude

The woman pulls out a pair of brass knuckles as Biggs draws his katana. He brings the blades down fast.

Fast Biggs notes clinically. She manages to catch his Katana on the brass knuckle, but that just gives leaves her open to be gutted by the wakizashi. A normal person would be down, bleeding and holding their guts in. She snarls revealing big fangs.

The next Biggs sees is a steel toed combat boot. He's dimly aware of hitting his head on something. The ceiling. She just kicked him into the ceiling.

Biggs struggles to keep his feat under him. But she's already inside his guard; Biggs feels his jaw crack as the knuckles slam into his face.

Then he's on the ground. There's a snapping sound, Biggs feels his jaw pulling back into place (healing?). He's on his hands and knees when something is pouned into his chest.

Then Biggs is unconcious.

[sblock=Combat]
Biggs wins init; which is good cause it matches the story.
Assuming you're using duck and parry, since you've got the wakizashi out (so +2 def -2 attack). So it's 10-4(her modified def)+3. For some reason I made that six dice. I rolled an extra die later (but no success[/url. [url=http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1431490]Generate 4 wounds ( she's size 4 so she'd usually be hurting pretty bad).

Even with his defense at four Blackcaot generates 5 successes. Those tens really help.Since she's got Boxing (=streefighting)* and biggs is size 5 that means Biggs is stunned and loses his next action.
Her next attack does another 3 points of blashing. That's enough to fill the rest of Biggs boxes.

When you're prone and unconcious you don't get defense (I think, I don't actually have the book in front of me) so she gets 6 successes. To stake you need to get an exceptional success (5 successes). Biggs is staked. Which means he appears to be dead, but will revive as soon as the stake is pulled. There's some other stuff, but we won't worry about it for now.

Sorry if the fight was a bit messy. It wasn't fair, at all, and I didn't want to drag it out.[/sblock]

And so Judas Archer had offered a carefully constructed question as to goad Celeste into venting her anger on him, and perhaps allow her to feel better. He wasn't stupid, this whole trip centered on him and it had gone wrong, and he wanted to try and make things right. He expected her to be screaming at him though, not trying to tear him apart.

Archer tried to shield himself from the worst of it, but Celeste moved like a blur, and more than a few blows connected with his face and neck. He felt something rupture in his neck, and with a snort a spray of blood leaves his nose and mouth, signaling his neck injury had reopened. The bandages over the left side of his neck gained a growing red stain.

Archer wouldn't dream of fighting back, he couldn't bear the thought of hurting Celeste. He even considered dropping his defenses entirely, but where's the satisfaction in beating up someone who doesn't try to at least shield themselves? In the end he wanted Celeste to feel better for the exercise so he maintained his farce of a defense and soaked up her anger willingly. Injuries would always heal, and now posed even less of a problem than when he was alive. It was a small sacrifice.

Cole's Prelude

Cole looks up at the building. He's off the reservation, this is probably the first time he's seriously challeneged LB's authority. But he couldn't help it. He looks up at the modern steel skyscraper.

Braddock, Fitzroy and Lamb says big metal sign on the side of the building.

Lamb and Fitzroy... his old business partners. He looks up at the building. That Asian vampire he met a few nights ago had been right. He wasn't sure where this Celeste had gotten her information but it looked like business had been good.

[sblock=OOC]
Blood,

Feel free to post anything you like, or nothing at all about your old business partners. Key points: You were buisness partners, but informally, as black market smugglers. Cole was effectively "senior" to the other two, neither of whom where particularly creative. You worked together for a few years in mediterrianian often using Casablanca and Cairo as hubs.

My next post will incorporate whatever you post, in the details of your last meeting with them in Egypt before you went into your long sleep.
[/sblock]

Archer's Prelude

Archer's passivity seems to enrage Celeste even further. At length though her anger seems to fade and stops jumping up and down him.

Archer is dimly aware of the car door being opened and being slowly dragged out onto the pavement.

Celeste passes through the line of sight of his good eye breifly. Even with her hair wild and her evening gown ripped and torn by her strenous actions she looks radiant.

She silently retreives something from the trunk. A moment later there is a sloshing sound and Archer realizes she's pouring something on him.

It smells a lot like gasoline.

In the end the beating was more severe than Archer had anticipated, but that wasn't at the top of his immediate list of priorities. Gasoline only meant one thing. The thought of fire somehow perturbed him more than it used to, thus the prospect of being turned into a human-shaped torched was a significant source of stress.

Looking up through the functioning eye at Celeste, Archer couldn't help but wonder what he did wrong. He tried to say something, but it came out as a raspy, bloody slur and barely audible. Movement was nigh impossible, and communication seemed out of the question. He didn't know what his options were, and continued struggling to get up while trying to say something through his damaged throat.

Bigg's Prelude

Biggs returns to consciousness with a start. Aware that he's strapped down extremely tightly, in something like a coffin.

What looks like a lid has been slide partially off. Revealing an the face of an Indian man (SE Asian not Native American). The man's obvious fangs suggest he's a vampire, but Biggs doesn't feel the same surge of anger he felt when he saw the woman in the black trenchcoat.

I would appreciate it if you would remain quiet and listen to a proposition I have for you. I assure you that your existence hangs in the balance. the man says.

[sblock=OCC]
Biggs is completely restrained. He's welcome to test his bonds, but he can easily confirm there is no give. Speach, etc. aren't impaired.
[/sblock]

"A fine Iktan Belova to you." says Biggs with a sigh. "Go on, i'm all ears."

Biggs Prelude

The Indian man cocks his head oddly before carefully saying "Your position is precarious. I can appreciate your desire to take action however I humbly suggest that you listen instead.

He replaces the lid. It sounds like he sits down nearby.

A few minutes later Biggs can hear conversation beginning as two more people enter the room.

[sblock=read first]The following sblock has a really long conversation. It was written some time ago, and, despite being poorly written has some info about the various participants in the city as well as giving Biggs some idea about how precarious his situation is. I'll summarize the key points in the Synopsis bock, if people want to read more "conversations between NPCs" you're free to do so, consider it optional.
I freely admit that the text is long and this scene, like several of archer's recent scenes, aren't particularly interesting to participate in, or well written. Please do your best to accept them as they are. The game won't be like this.
(In my defense I would simply say that this is what fell out of the process of trying to develop the city. And also enable a character like Biggs to exist in the story.)[/sblock]

[sblock=Synopsis]
Biggs is being held captive by some vampire who calls himself "the Prince". He is apparently like the Vampire King of the city.
Biggs was not supposed to have been made into a vampire; he is "owned" by the prince because of this
the Prince doesn't like vampire hunters (no shock) and is almost certainly not a nice or good person (in fact he doesn't seem to properly think in human terms anymore)
He has two lieutenants, "Reggie" (the Indian) and "Blackie" (the woman who attacked Biggs in his hotel room)
"Reggie" thinks that Biggs deserves some sort of chance
"Blackie" thinks Biggs is dangerous and should buried in cement (or something similar)
the prince is very very touchy about his image (how other vampires see him)
the prince is a bully
Blackie" is afraid of him and his temper
The prince is strong enough to break a sword with his bare hands
There are apparently a sect of religious vampires
The prince dislikes talking about religion
"Reggie" is very good at kissing the prince's a__
"Reggie" is very unpopular with religious vampires (and why is apparently a secret that even the Prince doesn't know)
The Prince has decided to let Biggs live, but only to use him as some sort of example to something called "neonates"[/sblock]


[sblock=The actual conversation]A masculine voice enters the room "Alright, so who's the best mind f___er we got."
"What?" The man stops.
"I didn't say anything," Reggie says.
"Yeah, but you got a look that says you got something to say."
"I don't think it's proper to dominate this man."
"Reggie, I'm the prince. His sire, whoever the f___ they are. Don't got no siring privileges. That means his ass is mine. This ain't Europe Reggie."
"That's not what I'm talking about. I think, Lucius, that it's morally wrong."
"You're talking to me. Reggie. And I understand the words coming out of your mouth, but this isn't making -any- sense to me. Speak to my level."
"Would you violently rape a small child?"
"You still confusing me. I'm a vampire Reggie. Ah don't feel those particular sets ah urges."
"Fine. Would you kill a small child?"
"Is this one of them eastern mystical things?"
"Would you?"
"We talking about a specific child?"
"No. Just a child."
"Alright. Sure. I wouldn't kill a small child."
"Because?"
B: "We're waisting time."
"No no Blackie, the man has finally started to make some sense. Alright. Alright. Ah wouldn't kill any children cause it wouldn't be right."
"Personally I believe that killing a small child and dominating this man, completely stripping him of his will and personality are, though not the same, both similar in that they're morally wrong."
"You know he hunts vampires with a big sword, right?"
"If you found out that monsters were hunting your people what would you do."
"Reggie, you know I have a real, abiding affection for you. But sometimes you need to look at the practical side of things. Now..., "
"Would you sit around and do nothing?"
"Ah hell. Fine. I'd do something."
<silence>
"But look Reggie, this the 80s now."
B clears her throat.
"Blackie, fine. The 90s right? Alright? Slip of the tongue. That just makes my point more. They got all these new fangled things. Them cordless phones? They work outside now. And this thing? <sound of metal> Kani-chachas?"
Biggs ear can make out the telltail sound of a katana vibrating slightly as it's being waved around
"When we were morals they didn't have any of this Kani-chacha's or whatever. It's a different era. People don't believe in vampires no more. The guy is nuts! Crazy! A loon!"
There's a banging sound as the sword is brought down with a loud smash. It sounds like the sword blade just broke.
"f___. Now I got metal anywhere. What's wrong with a normal f___ing sword? Carrying around a normal sword don't make you crazy enough? You need a crazy sword?"
"So you don't believe in the baptism of the blessed embrace?"
"Ah... Reggie! Hold on! Now! Wait a minute. This is a private f___ing conversation, right?"
"Of course."
"Just between the lot of us, right?"
"Of course."
"An' that conversation we had, that gentleman's agreement we had, the one when you started."
"I remember"
"You ain't having no second thoughts?"
"Not at all."
"Ok. Well, then. We don't to be talking 'bout no religious stuff then."
"Do you?"
"Hell Reggie! What I just say. I got enough problems repeating myself all the time, now you going to start? If I recall correctly you gave up this religious stuff. You may not have noticed but the Sanctified visit me weekly demanding your head on a platter."
"My beliefs aren't at issue here; but yours. It's not meant to be a religious question but a legal one."
"You're not making sense again."
"Do you, as prince, the arbiter of law in the city; believe that each vampire, once embraced has a clean slate, or are there some crimes which even the embrace can not wash away?"
<silence>
"There any third f___ing choice?"
<silence>
"Blackie?"
She's obviously been waiting to speak, "I think it's insane that we're having this conversation. He's an insane menace. We should kill him and be done with it. If you think there's some sort of political advantage..."
<sound of someone standing up>
Blackcoat's voice trails off. "I'd didn't... what I mean..."
<sound of someone walking across the floor>
LB's voice is soothing, "It's all right. I ain't mad at you."
<silence>
LB "You getting enough rest?"
Blackcoat "I didn't mean..."
"You didn't... cause it sure sounded like you meant it..."
An uncomfortable silence lingers, eventually, Blackcoat says "Maybe I haven't been resting so well."
"OK. Well then. You'd probably be making mistakes then."
"Yes," her voice is meek.
"You make any mistakes recently?"
"Yes"
"What mistake was that?"
"I said you'd act out of... of..."
"It's OK, you can say it. Ah ain't mad at you."
"Political advantage; but I didn't mean that."
"Why not?"
"You don't think about things like that. Think in that way I mean..."
"How do I think about things?"
"You think about things in a manner.... that is... I mean..."
"Take your time."
"Fairness, an' justice. Doing the right thing for everybody."
"Everybody"
"The city and everybody, in it. The Kindred."
"That's right. And ah know youh a bit stupid some times and you get confused but even if you're a bit confused are you going to say that I..."
"no. No!"
"Why not?"
"Because it gives people the wrong idea."
"That's right. You're my girl you know that?"
<pause>
"I plum forgot what we were talking about."
"The hunter."
"That's right. And you were gonna say something before you got a bit confused."
"I...."
"It's OK. I ain't mad. Just give us your suggestion."
"Construction. At the stadium. They're filling in the pilings. Tomorrow. Concrete. Deep. It's Deep."
"So we should just stick him in there and forget about him. Who do you call?"
"Luciano."
"We use Luciano for stuff like this?"
"Switch. I mean. Mix-up. You said you wanted... I mean..."
The Prince and Blackcoat walk back and forth slowly in and out of your line of sight.
"That's right. I said I wanted to alternate between Luciano and that other fella. I'd forgotten that. See, everybody makes mistakes. You got a lot on your plate don't you? You got a hella lot to keep in your head. And I understand that ain't easy. You're doing a great job. A real bang up job. I don't tell you that enough do I? You do a fantastic job. Everybody says so. You keep everything organized for me. And I appreciate that. I depend on you. The city depends on you. If we were living you know what I'd do?"
"You'd make a day for me." Blackcoat's voice is small but seems oddly content. Almost proud.
"That's right. You saw that one coming huh? I'd make a whole f___ing day for you. You deserve it too. People'd get off work and sit around in the park with sandwiches and have a whole day to think about how much good you do for the city. And for me."
"And you do sooo much for me. So much that..." the conversation takes on the element of ritual
"...people think that I speak for you"
"even if?"
"even if it's something you'd never say"
"or even?"
"or even think. 'cause you don't think. I mean..."
"you mean I don't think like that. That's right."
Through an air-hole you can make out the Prince, Lucius and the woman. Lucius bending over, with his forehead touching hers. He's holding her head in his hands. From this vantage point you can make her face, her eyes are closed, her face is serene.
"Ah put a lot of pressure on you sometimes don't ah?"
She makes a small nod.
"Ah do regret that. Ah really do. You understand it's just cause your so dependable right?"
She makes another small nod.
"Ah put too much pressure on you?"
She shakes her head
"'cause if it's too much you just say the word..."
she shakes her head again
"you the toughest girl I know, you know that?" Lucius envelopes the woman in a big hug.
After a long minute he walks away and you can see her rubbing something away from her eyes.
"Reggie?" There is a heaving creaking sound. You can see the Indian mans head, it looks like Lucius is leaning on the chair from behind. Resting his big hands on the little man's shoulders.
"Lucius?"
"About this conversation that we just had."
"You know I am a social pariah."
"Yes well, nevertheless, if you were to have a conversation with someone."
"An improbable event."
"But if you were?"
"Yes?"
"Especially if we were discussing religiosity...?"
"If your religious beliefs were to come up?"
"Yeah."
"I would only be able to share my personal experience."
"That being?"
"That I have nightly been amazed to see you struggle between the demands of your deep personal beliefs in the teachings of Longinus and the practical requirements of running a modern domain."
"You know some people think I'm not religious. That I don't take the teachings of our savior so seriously."
"I see a very deep conviction running through you."
"Yeah?"
"Unfortunately the modern age has robbed many of their ability to differentiate such things."
"But not you?"
"You have often commented on my perceptiveness."
"Well. That's cause you're a perceptive guy Reggie. You may be the most perceptive fellow I know. At least till Pavoch drags his smelly carcase out of the ground."
"You do appreciate that it's very unlikely I would ever talk about this to anyone."
"Yeah. You weren't f___ing kidding about being a social f___ing Pariah. You know he came to see me again last week?"
"I could not fail to have noticed."
"Yeah. That f___ing flaming cross was something else. You know what that looks like? A negro carrying a flaming f___ing cross?"
"I believe the mortals were quite surprised."
"Yeah. You think he has any idea what that looks like?"
"I suspect the Primogen may be beyond such concerns."
"You ever gonna tell me what you did to piss them off?"
"It's... possible."
"Heh. It's OK. Ah remember our deal. Ah'm not asking."
Lucius gets up to walk off....
"We ain't calling Luciano. I got a better idea. We got all these neonates popping up... You coming Reggie? We got places to be..."
"Actually, I was planning on making a phone call"
"You can use Blackie's cordless."
"I'm better with the one's with the cords. If that's all right."
"Sure sure use the one on the desk..."
Lucian's voice echoes down the hallway disappearing "So these punks need some kind of object lesson, some clear f___ing sign about what happens if you get outta line..."[/sblock]

<The cover is pulled off.> You see the same, genial Indian face hanging over you. "It is a good thing when each man holds his destiny in his own hands. I am sorry if this hurts."
He picks up the stake from your chest. Biggs last thought as the vampire puts his full body weight onto the stake, driving it back into Biggs heart is that It really does hurt. A lot.
The world fades to blackness.

Archer's Prelude

The scene continues to be unpleasant.

[sblock=Summary]
Celeste and Frank discuss what is to be done with Archer as Frank ostensibly fumbles and delays setting him on fire.
Key points
*Newly embraced vampires are property
**Normally they are the property of the sire, but only if embraced with permission
**If embraced without permission they are the property of the Prince
*There's something odd about Frank (not a shock I realize)
*Scarman is socially isolated and dislikes LB

Ultimately Celeste decides that killing Archer would be "rash" and has him dumped back in the trunk.[/sblock]

[sblock=The actual events]Archer manages to force himself up on his hands but can't make it much further. Celeste seems oblivious, almost dazed. Her eyes are wild, unfocused. Fangs bared.

"I need a light Frank." Celeste's voice is cold.

Frank gets out of the car and approaches. "Of course madam. Perhaps you might allow me?"

"What?"

"You've gotten a touch of gasoline upon yourself as well. Unless you're planning a murder/suicide of course."

"Fine." Archer can see Celeste's bare feet, she's destroyed her shoes kicking him, as she returns to the car.

"I forgot the matches." Frank returns to the car. As Archer sees him lean into the window and start rummaging around in the glove compartment.

Archer can vaguely hear his voice "you know this won't help"

"What? He's gone. The whole thing disappears. It never happened."

"Scarman knows."

Celeste seems to start.

"He won't tell."

"Ah, so he'll forget about tonights events? Our visit. All that."

"I'll ask him not to bring it up," Celeste makes an effort to straighten her hair.

"So you'll go back and say, what, exactly madam? That you killed your child on the side of the road."

"That I took care of it. That I sent him away."

"He'll be dead."

"Stop saying that. It's not a he it's an it. It's a damned mistake. It's my mistake. I own it. I can do whatever I want with it."

"It's true. The newly created -are- property," Frank wanders back to the puddle of gasoline and gently nudges the feebly struggling Archer. Archer looks up at Frank.

[sblock=Archer's Sense of Frank]
Archer looks up at Frank, behind the genial servile facade, and the apparent ineptness, he sees something else nebulous and unpleasant. Archer has an overwhelming sense of callous disinterest in Archer's well being; something appallingly alien seems to lurk about the ghoul's eyes.
To Archer's fevered mind he seems to be picking his words with the most deliberate of care.
[/sblock]

"But this fellow," the ghoul gently nudges Archer with his shoe, "Created in secret, embraced without permission, is not your property. He is the prince's property. And destroying him? That would be destroying the prince's property."

"No one knows."

"Scarman knows."

"He won't say anything."

"He may not have told anyone yet," the ghoul allows.

"He doesn't have anyone to tell. No one likes him. It will probably take him a week just to make up his ossified mind about whether or not to help me."

"Of course. Almost certainly true."

"Scarman hates LB. He'd never tell him."

"Of course." The ghoul pauses. " I'll proceed then."

Archer's deliberate, tortured movements have allowed him to see Celeste from the corner of your eye as she slides into the back of the car. She looks straight ahead. A finger to her pursed lips.
There is a quiet, terrifying cracking sound as the ghoul lights a match. If Archer has ever heard a horrifying sound he can't recall it right now. It's followed by a sputtering sound. "Drat!" the ghoul says quietly.

"Wait!"

"I'm sorry madam it's these matches they're quite old and it's a touch breez... I'm sorry... did you say wait?"

"Yes. I'm thinking."

Some time passes. Maybe a minute, maybe five minutes. The smell of the gasoline is overwhelming. Archer can't move, properly, his body is feels twisted, like it's been turned around funny. Perhaps his spine is broken?
Also, dimly, he feels hungry, unbelievably hungry.

"Put it back in the car"

"In the car, Madam?"

"Yes. I've done enough rash things recently."

"Very well."

The old ghoul who struggles to get you wrapped up in a plastic tarp. "In the truck Frank! He stinks."

"Of course Madam, of course." Grunting the ghoul manages to strain Archer into the back of the trunk.[/sblock]