The story begins here
Interlude Scene CF 7
The characters plan to head away from the scene of their
escape. They need some place where they can take
a moment to figure out what is going on, and what they’re going to do next. I
increase the Chaos Factor to 7, since clearly things did not go well in the
last scene. Rolling against it, I get a random event: Altered Scene “PC
Positive, Extravagance/Travel.” Nothing springs to mind for this, so I declare
that they exit the scene easily. Not only does no one pay any attention to
them, but no one will remember them later even if investigators show up asking
questions.
The coterie heads to a local outdoor theater, a place used
by various groups in the warmer months for shows and productions, but abandoned
for now. It is surrounded by trees, and while the woods are sparse, they feel
much deeper now. It is only a few hundred yards from the nearest main road, but
the place feels primal, and ancient. It is also silent, and isolated. What few
creatures would normally be prowling through these woods at night sense the
unnatural presence of the characters, and either leave or hide.
They talk. For hours. About what they did and why they did
it, alternating judgment, support, recriminations and accusations mixed with
promises of support and love. They talk about what they are, what they’ve
become, and what they now desire. They avoid the “v” word for as long as
possible, until they admit that it’s sillier to avoid it when there really is
no better word that any of them know. Aside from movies and a few books,
neither Maya nor Daron really know what it means to be a vampire. Trent
(rolling Intelligence + Occult, dif 9 (for the dead keep their secrets), and attaining 1 success) knows a bit more, enough to correctly warn his companions about
sunlight, and the need to feed, and the need to keep this secret. They talk, in
ever increasing circles about how this happened, who did this to them, if it
was a test, or a game. The government or conspiracy, aliens or wizards. Every possible iteration of who, and what, and why.
They do not talk about Vince, or Mavis. And not one of them
even think about Suzanne.
At the end, nothing is settled, but they talk out of habit, and
out of a lack of anything else to do. And then, the night begins to come to an
end. The question now is, where are the characters at the end of the night, and
what do they hope to do next?
Daron—Transform/The public. While unwilling to approach law
enforcement, Daron wants answers. Answers he knows none of them are able to
provide. He plans to talk to a doctor, or at least a med student friend of his.
He believes there has to be an explanation for this, and a way to undue it, no
matter what Trent says. Trent is probably talking out of his ass, anyway.
Trent—Extravagance/Lies. Trent is fascinated by the power
coursing through his veins, and the thought of all the myths and tales and
magic he once claimed to believe actually being TRUE. He fully intends to see
just what it is he is now capable of, and what being a vampire means. But he has no desire
to let anyone else in on their secret. A good magician (or artist) keeps their
tricks secrets, and he is well aware that certain divine truths are only for
the Initiated. Well, now he IS the Initiated, and he’s going to get some
answers.
Maya has the most complex problem ahead of her. Not only is
she cursed to become an undead creature of the night, but she also has the most
extreme curse of all the coterie, being turned into a repugnant and disgusting
Nosferatu. For her, I roll “Stop/Fame.”
She is utterly horrified at what she has become, and just wants it all to end.
She has no desire to let anyone know what has befallen her, and sees little if
any hope for her condition.
Daron’s delicate attempts to bring up outside help are
quickly shot down by both Maya and Trent. But, Trent’s enthusiastic embrace of
what has befallen them repulses Maya and Daron. No one is on the same page, and
the coterie can agree to little tonight. While they should stick together, they
instead decide to attempt to return to their own lives, being physically,
mentally, and spiritually drained.
And hungry. They are all still so hungry.
CF remains 7, as the characters didn’t really do anything
this scene.
Daron’s Story
Sunday, November 8th,
1992
Daron heads home to his off-campus apartment. There are
still a few things that I don’t know about the characters, so I’ll use the
Mythic system to answer them. For example, does Daron have a roommate? He
certainly doesn’t need one financially, but it’s always good to have a bro to
hang with, or perhaps a girlfriend. Does he live alone? I decide that this is
Unlikely, and the result is YES. He has the place to himself, and when he
returns, he throws himself into the bed, and sleeps a sleep deeper than he has ever
experienced. While he slumbers, his body shakes and violently convulses. If any
were to witness, they would assume he was experiencing an intense epileptic
seizure, but one that lasted minutes and hours at a time. Daron remains undisturbed, however, as it is merely his body going through its ultimate death, as it finally
rids itself of anything resembling mortality.
When he awakens, he is aware of the filthy mess that was
once his bed, but is neither horrified nor amused by it. It is simply a thing,
a mess to be cleaned. The sheets and blankets and comforter are stuck in the
trash, and he thinks that he will need to purchase a new bed. He showers and
cleans himself, and, dressing well, he leaves, ignoring the blinking lights on
his answering machine. He’s going to get
some answers of his own.
However, along the way, there’s an Altered Scene—“Move
toward Thread, Persue Attention.” I
decide that there are only two threads currently active: 1) Discover what
happened to them, and 2) the Police Investigation. Unsure which this related
to, I decide to roll for it, even (1) or odd (2)…the result is 1. Since he was
already heading to his med student friend, I decide that he simply finds him
easily.
Now, who is Daron’s med student friend? I have no particular
idea, so I use a combination of a couple random rollers I have to get: Zoe
Steinberg, an Insightful Statesman who wants to abuse atrocities, encourage the wealthy, and prepare knowledge.
She’s a hard-partying friend of Daron’s, though one who keeps her illicit
activities a closely guarded secret—she seems like an ideal pre-med student to
everyone, save those who know her. She’s
not at her dorm, but working on some project in one of the Biology labs. It is
Sunday night, and so there are only a few dedicated students still working when
Daron tracks her down. They have the lab, and most of the floor, to themselves.
She of course is concerned for her friend, especially since
he missed all the parties this weekend, and he seems so ashen, and distant. He
explains that he has come down with something, and needs her help. She’s always
been there to help before, though her earlier aid was more focused on getting
him access to certain secured rooms and chemicals, never for medical advice. She’s
willing to help, but encourages him to go to the campus clinic if there is
something seriously wrong. He insists on her help, emphasizing the personal
nature of the crisis. She agrees, and does what tests she is familiar enough
with to do check.
After the initial, most basic ones, she stops. “You’re
fucking with me here, aren’t you?” She says with a smile.
“What do you mean?” Daron asks.
“Your pulse. You don’t have one. And you're holding your
breath. What, did you take some,” and with this she rattles off a bizarre
string of sounds and syllables that Daron could never hope to replicate.
“No,” he insists. “I’m not ON anything. At least, nothing I
know of. Something…bizarre happened on Friday night, I think, and when I woke
up last night I was, well, I was like THIS. I haven’t eaten in the past few
days, and I’m not hungry,” he lies, “and I don’t know what the hell is wrong
with me.”
How does Zoe respond? Inspect/New Ideas.
“Ok, ok,” she says. “Let’s say, for now, I believe you. I
still think this is a fucked up joke, but sure. Tell me what happened, and I’ll
draw some blood and we’ll see what we can figure out. But if you’re right, I’m
not sure what I can do to help—you really should be at the hospital, like…now.”
Does he tell her everything? He wants answers, and he needs
answers, and right now, Zoe is his best bet.
I roll, considering it Likely, and the result is EXCEPTIONAL YES.
Daron takes a deep breath. “This is going to sound crazy,
but I need you to understand. Last Friday night I was heading back to my place
after rehearsal. I was going to get changed to head out and…Christ, I’m not
sure if I even got home. I mean, when I woke up, I was still wearing the same
shit I had on that day, so I don’t know. Anyway, yeah, heading home, park my
car then…then the next thing I know I wake up in this fucked up basement….”
He tells her everything, more than he ever intended to.
Trent and Maya, they had been there, but they had their own shit to deal with,
but Zoe? Zoe he can trust. Zoe is his friend, and has done more fucked up shit
with him than anyone else ever had. And once he begins talking, he can’t stop
himself.
He tells her about the hunger, and the blood. He tells her about
Mavis, and how warm she was. He tells her about Trent and Zoe, and what they
did to Vince. He needs her to understand, needs her to believe him. Unprompted,
but sensing her doubt, he grabs a scalpel and shows her that he doesn’t bleed,
and then they both watch in silent fascination as the cut closes itself before
them.
How does Zoe respond to this madness? Break/A Plot.
Zoe stares at him, hard. Unsure of what to say, or what
Daron expects her to say. She slowly stands up, saying “there’s, a um, test…strips
I need to get. In the back. I want to check something.” And, as calmly as she
can, she makes her way to one of the various rooms branching off the lab.
Daron grabs her, hurting her, holding her with too much
pressure, too much strength. She gasps, but he barely notices. “Where are you
going? You believe me, right? You don’t think I’m crazy?”
“Crazy? Daron, you just told me that you and your friends murdered people. Look, I don’t know if
you’re high, or been fucked with somehow, or what, but I don’t know if you’re
crazy or not. But I do know you’re hurting
me, and you need help.”
Daron looks at the arm, the one that holds her as if she was
a child, not really registering it as his own. He forces himself to release
her, and calmly tries to reason with her. “Please, Zoe. I don’t know what’s
going on, but it’s bad. It’s really bad. And I need your help.” Will she?—EXCEPTIONAL
NO.
“I am trying to help” she says, and kicks him in the groin
before making a desperate run out of the room. Daron barely even feels that
attack, and grabs her again, desperately trying to make her understand “Zoe,
please, Zoe, look at me, Zoe, stop, please stop, just stay, please stay.”
And with that, she stops. She is still terrified of him, and
horrified at what he had told her, but she does as she is told, and stays. Her
sudden acquiesce frightens Daron more than her attempt to flee.
“Ok, great,” he
says. “Um, how about we sit back down? Is that ok? Or, just move away from the
door, alright? Please, just come over here and sit down? Zoe” he focuses
himself on her “sit.”
Obediently, and quietly, she sits herself down on the
nearest stool. While she says nothing, her face betrays the growing sense of existential
terror building within her. Daron
himself understands something of that terror, as for the first time, the
essentially alien nature of what he has become begins to dawn on him. He is
freaking out, and unsure of what to do next.
Cruelty/Failure
His first thought is of Vince, and of how Trent did what he
had to do. Or so he claimed. He looks at the scalpel on the table, and looks at
Zoe. Beautiful, clever, fun Zoe. Of her warmth, and her touch, and of Mavis,
and of how cold he is, and how wonderful and peaceful it would be to be warm
again. Of how it was her fault, really, if she had just been his friend, had
just LISTENED to him, he wouldn’t have to do this.
But, no. He doesn’t know what he is. But he knows he’s not a
monster. He talked Suzanne down, and he talked Maya down, and he can talk Zoe down,
too. He was always good with a speech when he had to, and this time will be no
different.
“Look, Zoe,“ he says. “I…like I said, I think I got hit with
some chemical, like, maybe some of that nerve gas shit, or some crazy LSD or
something. I don’t…I don’t even know anyone named Maldvis or whatever her name
was supposed to be. I just, I’m really messed up, and you’re right. I’m going
to go to the hospital and get some help, ok? You were right, and you did help
me, and now I’m going to and get some real medical help. Thank you for
listening and, I really am sorry that I grabbed you—I shouldn’t have done that,
especially with you helping me so much. Just…just write all this up to, you
know me, having another crazy weekend. I mean, wouldn’t be the first time I can’t
remember something, right? And it’s all so fuzzy and messed up, like a dream,
and I don’t even think there WAS a basement—I think I was just in my apartment
all weekend, ya know? I think, yeah, one of the guys had dope or something,
but it was laced with, well, fuck if I know, but it was like, whoa, ya know? Like,
really. So, ok, I’m going to go to the hospital now, ok. Zoe? We’re cool, right
Zoe? I mean, you don’t need to tell anyone about this, because I’m going to the
hospital, right? Zoe, please, let me know everything is ok.”
Zoe looks at the cold, hard eyes in front of her. Eyes that
remind her of someone she once knew, someone she trusted and even loved. But the eyes staring at her belong to no one she has ever
seen before. “Sure,” she says, forcing a laugh, telling this stranger in front
of her what he needs to hear to let her go. “We’ve all been messed up before,
and have crazy dreams and shit. But, um, whatever you got, it’s bad, ok? You
really should go and get to the hospital.”
“Right,” the stranger says. “I’ll go right now,” and neither
of them are fooled by his lies.
Daron walks quickly out of the Biology building, grateful to
be away from the lights and the smells, and from Zoe, and from the fear of what
he was ready to do to her. Thoughts of her, and what he had wanted to do,
threaten to consume him, but two things bring him to his senses. The first, is
the cold, refreshing feeling of snow falling on him, the first real snow of the
season, blanketing the campus. Making it looks pure, and new, and innocent. A
world where any problem is over at the end of the semester, and everyone knows
that nothing they do here has any real consequences, no matter how horrible it
may seem at the time.
The second is the flashing lights and sirens of police
cruisers driving onto the campus.
The story continues with Trent
The story continues with Trent
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