What's the last thing I remember? Events I recall between arriving at the cult meeting and being here, to be exact. I seem to recognize the cult leader, at any rate, so there must be something.
Wracking your brain for a moment, you realize that the last thing you remember was being at a social gathering for the cult. It was some sort of holiday, but the specifics elude you. They probably went the classic route and drugged the punch.
Have I seen Marcus before? Does he look familiar? Is he hot? Why is that third question something that occurs to me at this precise moment?
You've seen him briefly before. Always at cult events, and never for too long. Never in broad daylight, either. He was always chatting with Bradley, writing checks, planning things, you always guessed he was just funding the operation. How else would they be able to afford those big gatherings and parties?
As for appearances, you'd say he's about a 7 on the attractiveness scale. Kind of creepy but also kind of commanding. Almost like a modern-day Count Dracula, without the stupid accent, of course. Bradley, on the other hand, practically oozes charm and charisma. A perfect 10, to be sure. Even his self-obsessed nature almost comes out as a perk. Somehow, though, you can't even describe what makes him so attractive, he just
is.
Do I have any blood on me? Oh god I hope I don't have any blood on me. Shit is impossible to get out once it dries. Though it does smell good... hrm. Does it smell any different than the smell of blood I am familiar with? Because I remember that smelling pretty disgusting, and something that I've had to smell a lot.
You seem to have a few blood spots on and around your collar, and feeling around, you also have a small incision scar around your jugular that you didn't have before. Your hair feels recently washed, too. Recently as in, in the last hour or so. The blood smells like blood, except... meaty. Almost like a freshly cooked steak.
Is the church door still open? Did I catch any glimpses of the outside world through it if it's not anymore? What did I or can I see?
Do I have my watch or phone with me? What time is it?
The church doors closed on their own, but what you caught of the outside just looks like a suburban street at about sunset. Looking at your watch, however, it's about 1 AM. Your night vision must be a hell of a lot sharper. Oh, and you can't find your phone. They must have taken it.
Pick up a blood pack. What type of blood is it? Does it seem reputable? Where could it have been stolen from?
The label reads "Blood type: O- Property of Swedish Medical Center." along with some other medical codes and jargon. It's completely legit, as far as you can tell, and it's cold, so it's fairly well preserved.
Do I feel cold? As in, touch my own forehead. Does it feel warm? Do I smell anything? Am I breathing? What does the hunger feel like? More like a mental craving, or a gut feeling?
You don't feel necessarily cold, just not as warm as a regular human would be. You would need a thermometer for a more accurate reading.
You smell a hell of a lot, actually. Your nose is picking up so many smells, it's almost a sensory overload. Some lavender near the altar, a hint of cologne on Marcus. Something incredibly sweet coming from Bradley. Pheromones maybe? The one smell that stands out above the rest is the smell of blood, and the hunger it brings drives you insane.
You
can breathe, but you don't
need to. You haven't really been breathing for the past five minutes and you haven't been feeling any of the effects of asphyxiation. You can also make your own heart beat, but it takes a bit of concentration, and it feels almost unnatural.
The hunger is both a mental and physical need. You feel as if you haven't eaten in days, and as if you haven't had a cigarette in weeks. Holding off from drinking that blood pack is getting harder by the minute.
- Get up. Being in a sitting position when shit goes wrong is a bad idea.
- Look for exits, and calculate how fast it would be to get through them. Note, windows count as exits.
- Take stock of inventory. Do I still have my guns, my bat, ammo for the guns, and hip flask?
- Be prepared for anything. Don't think about my current state and the metaphysical implications thereof until I am certain I am able to block it out by excessive drinking.
- If I still have my hip flask, see if I can still drink the contents of it. Sniff it first, just in case it's poisonous to vampires for some reason. If it is, cry, because this is going to be a long and sober eternity.
The stained glass windows all around the church are boarded up. Having to pry the boards off would be more trouble than it's worth. The door end the end of the room seems like it leads to an office, there might be a backdoor in there, but it's a toss-up as to its existence. There are more doors on each side of the altar, but a plaque on the doors reads "BASEMENT ACCESS," and the handles are chained together anyway. The only other option is the front door, but Marcus and Bradley are standing right in front of it, and in your weakened state, you doubt taking on two fairly fit men would end well for you. Besides, if you have some kind of vampiric strength, that means they do too, and they weren't drugged and unconscious half an hour ago.
You still have your valuables on you, your wallet, your keys, and any jewelry you had is all right where you left it, they even left your flask. What they didn't leave was your bat and the ammo for your guns. Your guns themselves are still on your person, completely unloaded. Your phone (if you had one) is also gone, unfortunately.
The alcohol smells fine and tastes fine, but it doesn't take away the hunger at all. It still takes some of the edge off, but you find yourself sobering up a bit faster than normal. Maybe you just got some weaker stuff last time you filled it up.
"Hey guys, I think this vampire stuff is like totes for real! How cool is that?"
Marcus turns to you, grinning.
"Ah, yes. That first taste of blood is usually what really drives it home. Some would even go so far as to say it's... 'better than sex.' Just wait until your first hunt. It'll be even better. I'm guessing you're one of the two Red sired. I recognize the... blind overconfidence."
It seems to be Bradley's turn to speak up next, as he walks up the aisle and hops over the altar to stand behind it, facing his 'crowd.'
"Hello there, boys and girls, and welcome to this little thing called unlife! I hope you're comfortable, because you're going to be living it for eternity! My name is Bradley, as I'm sure you all know, and one of you has the special honor of being my childe! ...With an 'e,' it's just how we spell it. Anyway, Allison! My lovely lady! You are my progeny. I will
personally take you under my wing, and teach you all there is to know about this little 'gift-that-is-a-curse' and all that. The rest of you? I'm not quite sure. I was a little out of it when the rest of the crew was Embracing everyone. All I know is that Alice's sire is a guy named Red, he's a great guy, even if he is a little coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs, and Alissa's sire is Nat. I try to stay away from Nat, though; she's a little... creepy."
He taps on the altar, staring off into space as if trying to remember something. "Oh! There's something else I need to tell you all, and it's very important, so listen good. The Masquerade is the one thing you never
ever break. You
never reveal the fact that you're a vampire to the world at large. There are special circumstances for individuals, but if you break that one golden fucking rule at any time, if you tell a friend who tells a friend, if you rip some fucker's face off in front of a news camera, if you so much as leave a shred of evidence the vampires exist, your head goes on a pike in the Prince's chambers. Seriously, I've seen her place, that little girl freaks me out."
He grins again, his magnetic smile showing through. "Actually, you'll get to meet her soon. All new Kindred have to go through her, although we might have to lie a little to get you through customs."
Marcus speaks up from the opposite end of the room, "You must
always remember the Masquerade. It's a danger to all of us if one of us is revealed. The Masquerade is the code that binds us. The Masquerade is also why you all seem to have such a hard time believing we exist. As long as you follow that one rule, you will still have a place here."
He crosses his arms and sighs, "And in regards to the Prince... Do
not, under any circumstances, make her angry. Do everything she says, agree to all the rules, and for the love of Gods, don't say
anything about her stature."
((I started writing this turn before the whole command thing happened, but I'm going to say that the defender wins on all draws.))
"So like, first thing, was Marcus right about the sun thing? Cause I always burn anyway, I have such sensitive skin, so I don't think it's going to affect me that much but like, do we have to sleep in coffins? I have no freaking idea where I'm going to get a coffin in Seattle. And second thing, do you have any more of the, uh, red stuff?"
Bradley looks a little surprised by the sudden onslaught of questions, but he makes his way over to you as you ramble. "Hey, slow down, girl. One question at a time. Yeah, sunlight sucks, a lot. It's probably the most deadly thing besides getting your head blown off. Thankfully, we kind of... shut down in the daytime. Sort of like sleep, but you just sort of close your eyes and suddenly its tomorrow night. It's mostly a survival mechanism to keep the stupid ones from walking out in broad daylight and turning into a pile of dust. If you fall asleep next to a window, though, you won't be able to open your eyes again. A coffin would work to keep sunlight out, but nobody really uses those anymore. Best way to avoid sunlight is to board up your windows and tape some trash bags over. Even light through a heavy fucking quilt hurts like a motherfucker. Of course, if you don't want to do that, you can always lock yourself in a bathroom, or find a nice dark basement to hide out in. But, point is, sunlight kills. Avoid it at all costs."
He smiles at the mention of 'red stuff', "Good stuff, ain't it? We only brought enough in the cooler for each of you, but the Prince's court usually has refreshments and stuff. It's bad manners just to show up for the free food, though, so watch yourself. Try to use some, er, moderation."
"Question. Why me? Someone suggest, or was... random?"
Bradley seems eager to answer your question, "Oh, not random at all! You were all picked because you have certain skills. Skills that would prove useful in our organization. Well, either that or I just liked you so damn much." He grins at Marcus, who gives a scowl in return.
Welcome to the Malkovian Madness Network! These are the voices and memories of every Malkovian that is or ever was. Sometimes the voices will tell you to do things, other times they may give you information, other times they'll just spit random nonsense at you. The voices might be lying to you, or they might be telling the truth, either way, you can do with the information what you will. The voices will never force you to do anything you don't want to, and they'll never take control of you. They merely whisper in your ear sometimes.
As soon as Bradley says the word 'organization,' The Voices begin to chant, "Cam-i-rill-a, Cam-i-rill-a, Cam-i-rill-a!"
Marcus starts to tap his foot, "Now, if there are no more questions, we should get to the Prince's court. I'd like to get this over with, soon."
((You guys keep posting faster than I can keep up. Slow your roll, will you?
))