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I was thinking back and trying to convert some of my old RP games into fic. SO I was going through my old notes (why, no, I do not throw ANYTHING away. EVER) and realized just how many monumental amusing disasters these games covered. Especially this one, an incident that most amused me from an old Vampire the Masquerade game.
This was not a session that I GMed, it was one that I actually played (shock horror, I rarely get the chance). It will go down in history as the WORST Masquerade cover up EVER!
Some Background:
VtM is based on the modern world with vampires lurking in the shadows. These vampires live in the modern world but must hide from humanity – their most sacred law. This secrecy is known as The Masquerade. The vampires themselves are divided into clans – each having their own powers, weaknesses and raisons d’etre (with extra accents).
My character was a suave, debonair socialite, with extreme political skills, known for his good looks, vast wealth, fine parties, quick wit and expensive contacts. After a political struggle, his sire finally managed to embrace him into the Ventrue clan (rulers and leaders) much to the annoyance of his rival who wished to make him her childe in the Toreador clan (artists and socialites). Unfortunately the pissed off Toreador then went on to become the Prince (supreme ruler of the city). And yes, she was bitter. To gain some allies (and protection) my poor Ventrue teamed up with a morally challenged Nosferatu, a fledgling Lasombra and a mystically inclined Caitiff in the hope of escaping from his would-be-sire’s spite.
Now the actual disaster. My Ventrue, like all members of his clan, can only drink the blood of a select group of humans (they being much more selective and posh than other clans). Draining the blood of any other human makes them violently ill. In his case, he could only feed on the very wealthy (he likes money). Waking hungry he made his merry way to one of the most exclusive hotels in the city. Chatting in the bar with the various pretty rich things he made his way to his prey… {and botched his hunting roll} a gentlemen in an extremely expensive suit wearing a rolex. Dinner is served.
He throws some vampire powers at him and convinces him to join him for some quiet time alone in his hotel room. Alone, at last, he sinks in his fangs into the poor mortal – and falls back, vomiting all his blood while being violently ill. Human is not rich – he just has credit cards! Now driven into a hunger frenzy (hungry vampires go into berserker rages) my Ventrue tore the idiot debtor into little pieces… And then the maid came in pushing a trolley.
She screamed in terror at the body and the blood everywhere, my Ventrue lunges angrily for her {and botches} and ends up falling over the trolley while she runs screaming murder through the hotel. My Ventrue catches her… in the hallway, surrounded by witnesses.
At this point my allies receive a phone call from the local spymaster telling them that I am merrily ripping out the throats of the city’s wealthy elite in full view of witnesses (HUGE masquerade breach) and to get there and sort it NOW or we’re all dead! Dutiful and loyal to the last they hurry to the scene and see people fleeing through the doors to escape my wrath.
Now, it’s worth noting the roles in this little coterie. The Nosferatu is a lethal fighter, the Lasombra a skilled thief and security expert, the Caitiff was an academic with mystical knowledge. My VENTRUE is the social one who can wipe memories and control minds. They have to stop the witnesses without mind control powers. So what do they do? Stand at the exits with pump action shotguns and shoot anyone who tries to leave. Yes, yes they do. The city’s elite are fleeing a blood crazed mad man, running to the street and been mowed down with shotgun fire. *headdesk* On CCTV *Headdesk headdesk headdesk*
The Nosferatu ventures inside and finds me killing hotel security. He realises that I need to feed and feed NOW. But there is a problem – they don’t actually know what my feeding restriction is. *headdesk x10*. I solve this by trying to eat the Nosferatu (Ventrue can feed off any vampire) and drain his blood. The Caitiff has a brain storm! They can use the Nosferatu as a COVERTER! So while I am bighting down on the Nosferatu’s arm, the Catiff and the Lasombra are rounding up the cowering survivors and feeding them to the Nosferatu.
I return to my senses and am duly horrified. We decide it is necessary to cover it up a little better (people have escaped and there are bodies everywhere) so the Nosferatu decides to stage a gas explosion – destroying physical evidence and any CCTV. We retreat to a safe distance to watch.
Did I mention vampires are pathologically afraid of fire and go insane when afraid, running and killing anything in their way? Well they are. The building explodes. Everyone is ok… except my Ventrue {BOTCHES his courage roll} who takes one look and runs SCREAMING through the streets (still covered in blood soaked clothes) and kills 2 policemen on the way.
End result? Dead police (on CCTV). A goodly chunk of the fashionably wealthy now shot to death, blown up or ripped to pieces. The city’s most EXCLUSIVE hotel/restaurant is a smoking hole in the ground, and most of the rest of the city’s glitterati keep talking about blood crazy monsters, psychos and vampires – and they’re too wealthy for the police to write off as cranks. Oh, and my social standing among the movers and shakers plummeted because I ate them. And one of the Prince’s servants while I was at it.
The Prince was not amused.
And that was the worst Masquerade cover up there has ever been. Ever.
This was not a session that I GMed, it was one that I actually played (shock horror, I rarely get the chance). It will go down in history as the WORST Masquerade cover up EVER!
Some Background:
VtM is based on the modern world with vampires lurking in the shadows. These vampires live in the modern world but must hide from humanity – their most sacred law. This secrecy is known as The Masquerade. The vampires themselves are divided into clans – each having their own powers, weaknesses and raisons d’etre (with extra accents).
My character was a suave, debonair socialite, with extreme political skills, known for his good looks, vast wealth, fine parties, quick wit and expensive contacts. After a political struggle, his sire finally managed to embrace him into the Ventrue clan (rulers and leaders) much to the annoyance of his rival who wished to make him her childe in the Toreador clan (artists and socialites). Unfortunately the pissed off Toreador then went on to become the Prince (supreme ruler of the city). And yes, she was bitter. To gain some allies (and protection) my poor Ventrue teamed up with a morally challenged Nosferatu, a fledgling Lasombra and a mystically inclined Caitiff in the hope of escaping from his would-be-sire’s spite.
Now the actual disaster. My Ventrue, like all members of his clan, can only drink the blood of a select group of humans (they being much more selective and posh than other clans). Draining the blood of any other human makes them violently ill. In his case, he could only feed on the very wealthy (he likes money). Waking hungry he made his merry way to one of the most exclusive hotels in the city. Chatting in the bar with the various pretty rich things he made his way to his prey… {and botched his hunting roll} a gentlemen in an extremely expensive suit wearing a rolex. Dinner is served.
He throws some vampire powers at him and convinces him to join him for some quiet time alone in his hotel room. Alone, at last, he sinks in his fangs into the poor mortal – and falls back, vomiting all his blood while being violently ill. Human is not rich – he just has credit cards! Now driven into a hunger frenzy (hungry vampires go into berserker rages) my Ventrue tore the idiot debtor into little pieces… And then the maid came in pushing a trolley.
She screamed in terror at the body and the blood everywhere, my Ventrue lunges angrily for her {and botches} and ends up falling over the trolley while she runs screaming murder through the hotel. My Ventrue catches her… in the hallway, surrounded by witnesses.
At this point my allies receive a phone call from the local spymaster telling them that I am merrily ripping out the throats of the city’s wealthy elite in full view of witnesses (HUGE masquerade breach) and to get there and sort it NOW or we’re all dead! Dutiful and loyal to the last they hurry to the scene and see people fleeing through the doors to escape my wrath.
Now, it’s worth noting the roles in this little coterie. The Nosferatu is a lethal fighter, the Lasombra a skilled thief and security expert, the Caitiff was an academic with mystical knowledge. My VENTRUE is the social one who can wipe memories and control minds. They have to stop the witnesses without mind control powers. So what do they do? Stand at the exits with pump action shotguns and shoot anyone who tries to leave. Yes, yes they do. The city’s elite are fleeing a blood crazed mad man, running to the street and been mowed down with shotgun fire. *headdesk* On CCTV *Headdesk headdesk headdesk*
The Nosferatu ventures inside and finds me killing hotel security. He realises that I need to feed and feed NOW. But there is a problem – they don’t actually know what my feeding restriction is. *headdesk x10*. I solve this by trying to eat the Nosferatu (Ventrue can feed off any vampire) and drain his blood. The Caitiff has a brain storm! They can use the Nosferatu as a COVERTER! So while I am bighting down on the Nosferatu’s arm, the Catiff and the Lasombra are rounding up the cowering survivors and feeding them to the Nosferatu.
I return to my senses and am duly horrified. We decide it is necessary to cover it up a little better (people have escaped and there are bodies everywhere) so the Nosferatu decides to stage a gas explosion – destroying physical evidence and any CCTV. We retreat to a safe distance to watch.
Did I mention vampires are pathologically afraid of fire and go insane when afraid, running and killing anything in their way? Well they are. The building explodes. Everyone is ok… except my Ventrue {BOTCHES his courage roll} who takes one look and runs SCREAMING through the streets (still covered in blood soaked clothes) and kills 2 policemen on the way.
End result? Dead police (on CCTV). A goodly chunk of the fashionably wealthy now shot to death, blown up or ripped to pieces. The city’s most EXCLUSIVE hotel/restaurant is a smoking hole in the ground, and most of the rest of the city’s glitterati keep talking about blood crazy monsters, psychos and vampires – and they’re too wealthy for the police to write off as cranks. Oh, and my social standing among the movers and shakers plummeted because I ate them. And one of the Prince’s servants while I was at it.
The Prince was not amused.
And that was the worst Masquerade cover up there has ever been. Ever.