Dead Gamers Society: The So Cal World of Darkness Meetup Message Board › The Vampire Conclave › The Prince's Will Recap thread - Nov 3, 2012
Buena Park, CA
Ok Kindred of Charlotte, give a recap, earn 2 xp.
To start, I've give a recap post from the perspective of Hera.
Hera, overlooking the dance floor at the Blood Moon is seething. She is seething over the rumors that Antoinette is spreading about her. "No one out harpies me", she mutters to herself.
Yet, she can play the game, and she feels she has the advantage. She had a little one on one time with Issac, a member of her coterie, perhaps a in that she can use to unravel their band of misfit kindred.
Hirem, her ghoul enters her balcony office, his smart phone in hand. He shows her a Twitter feed from Rick's Place. She retreated to a hidden room, were a small religious shrine stood. At the shine was a old sword with a Roman numeral 7 etched in the blade. She made a light cut on her palm with the sword and said, "Check mate bitch".
Soon, she and Hirem arrive at Rick's Place and see Morgan Harlow, the Deave Primogen, on the floor, in full melt down mode. Hera always hated that primadonna, but now she loves her. "Beautiful, this will bring down the Sheriff", she thinks, "and I get some plum territory in the process"
What happened next was too fast for her to process. A split second of ripping muscle in her neck, at the hands of Nettie's viking did it. The last thought that crossed Hera's mind, "So much for due process".
Edited by Louis Garcia on Nov 4, 2012 8:18 PM
November: We were all at the club that night. Even our local drug guy Bryce, Antoinette had made some connections recently and we were visited by Diva Primogen Morgan. Good gravy, not at all what we expected our Saturday night entertainment to be.
Needless to say, Entertaining and pleasing Morgan became Antoinette’s primary desire. I don’t blame her. She is the political arm of our group and I do my best to trust her with this. Edgar was not impressed though, he seemed to sulk in a corner most of the night.
This caused a few issues with the Primogens everyone be happy staff. We eventually brought Edgar out into happy land… kind of.
Meanwhile, damned Bryce was making his own connections with one of Morgan’s hangers on. For a few moments our night, our existence seemed to hang on the edge of a pendulum. I was doing my best to play bartender and direct the music, since I had a style of music that Morgan enjoyed. Then it happened, some of our customers started to tweet out information on what was going on, very impressed with Morgan’s dancing and beauty.
Eventually Morgan’s staff noticed and decided to deal with it, old school style. I will not have kindred coming into our club and killing off customers because of something they themselves decided to do. With Isaacs help, and with as much diplomacy as I could muster, I prevented it.
Well, with the usual luck of the damned, this gradually stuck in Morgan’s craw. However, in an unexpected twist she started to have some sort of psychotic fit. Wow, what a show, I felt that pendulum again. Now, Bryce came through with flying colors. The situation seemed to calm again. Morgan sank to the floor, seeming to be unconscious.
Now, once again I can see mischief luck at play. Our old friend Hera made a sudden appearance at our door. While she was having acidic words with Nettie, I spoke quietly with Morgan’s number one girl. I could see it in my head, Hera plotting to have people in our club to spy and try to break the Primogens reputation. Morgan’s girl gave me a quiet go ahead. Edgar, near me heard this too and suddenly all hell broke loose. When the smoke cleared, Hera and her ghoul were no more. I have to admit, Edgar personally sent Hera to her final resting place in Hades.
Now while part of me knows there will be a price to pay! Most of me is more than happy Hera paid first.
When I invited the Daeva Primogen to visit the club it never entered my mind she would actually pay us a visit. I was just trying to make some connections, maybe get some juicy tidbit to use against Hera, but this was more than I could have dreamed of.
First, Morgan graced our club with a visit almost immediately! I obviously impressed her with my southern charms. Sure, it took an amazing effort to make the lady feel at home, but some sweet talking to Edgar got him to play nice with her Girl Friday, and some threats of bodily harm got Bryce to stop corrupting one of her ghouls with his druggie ways. Goodness, I even stood up to the bitch when she was going to punish our patrons for taking some photos (like you could see anything). Ruin my publicity? Over my undead body.
Sure, there was that... incident where the diva decided to have a total Britney Spears moment on us, but we got the mortals out and smoothed things over. (Even if I was tempted to start singing "I'm going home...") Anyhow, thoughts of throwing playing cards aside, things went quite well.
But the icing on the cake was Hera. The look on her face! I could have died (again) with laughter. Stupid, stupid Hera. Coming to OUR club, after we've already sent everyone home, and threatening to expose her own primogen's emotional excesses. The nerve of her! She got what she deserved. And I get some new clubs and territory to run.
But, the plan is moving along faster than I expected. People will talk. I think Morgan's sidekick will have our back as long as we keep mum, but we will have to tread carefully and keep an eye out for the knife that will inevitably take a stab at us.
But enough serious talk. We have a wake to plan! Yes, a nice big wake at the Blood Moon, under new ownership of course. A wake in Hera's honor. The rum will flow, the drums will sound throughout the club district. The Baron will be pleased.
A restless night, my blood seemed to boil within me.
I shook off my aching head and made my way to the lodge, hoping to learn more of myself and the Blood.
I wore my best suit, unlike the fool of a speaker, who rambled on about electricity and the animation of frog legs. He was ragged and useless – his words irritated me and pushed me out of my shell. I told them stories of the old days, experiments wrought upon chained men and women that were owned wholly by their masters.
Intelligence comes from the spirit, I said, a continuous act of will, of recreating the self over and over again, one day at a time. How much more so for us, we who live past death?
They agreed; it surprised me a little.
After a time, the lodgemaster took me aside – he could sense a malaise upon me. He took some of my Vitae, drew symbols with it; I could only guess the meaning but they spoke to me, somehow. It enticed me a little, making me feel strange – it was blood, changed by power but still my own. It verged on an urge to self-cannibalize.
The words had more meaning to the master, he said he could help me, and I agreed to return.
The club. Music pounding. I stayed there, trying to find value in the music, not wanting to calcify in my ways.
Not long passed before a Primogen swept into the room, staff in tow. Soon kine and kindred alike were orbiting, captured by the Primogen’s field of gravity. She offered me to hand to kiss; I shook it instead. Her eyes filled with hate for a moment, exposing the ugliness beneath.
It was a trap; I knew that. Another ‘test’ from the even-more-damned Kindred of this city, who insist on pushing me.
I waited by the door. I kept watch. I was deemed to be unfriendly.
Time passed; a Daeva tried to draw my attention, to pull me along with her. She offered to dance; I rejected her.
She stomped back to Netti; words were exchanged. Netti came over and begged me for kindness, her one eye wide, slightly desperate.
I agreed; I began to see flaws in my conduct. I was so soon to see a trap, was I chasing phantoms?
The girl sulked; I felt a pang of guilt. Who was I to reject a dance? Finally, I approached her, only to be rebuffed. Childish, but still irritating.
Bryce, Mac, and Issac busied themselves, Bryce being disruptive as usual, Mac and Issac protecting the Kine. I understood their actions but could not endorse them; it seemed dangerous, an indulgence, though perhaps a good show of steel. Ambivalence reigned and I ignored them.
I felt balanced, trapped between hope and fear, paranoia and foresight. Had I miscalculated?
Hera entered, her boy at her side, a phone in her hand. She smirked, she bragged. I saw my chance and the Primogen approved.
Hera gathered her Vitae, brought her disciplines to bear—
And it was nothing to me. My claws in the back of her neck, her spinal column severed. She died in a moment.
I had tried to be better than that; I had tried to keep myself under control. But, at that moment, I felt only triumph. Triumph, and relief.
My paranoia was nothing of the sort.