Atlantis Gaming Group

Saturday, February 11 2012.

So it’s been an eventful day.  Today I learned a lot about my powers, who I am and even met the Prince.  So here’s how it all happened.

I woke up with Joan kissing all over me.  I expected the usual response as she was a beautiful woman crawling on me, but nothing was happening.  I asked her, “What are you doing?”

“Teaching you a valuable lesson,” she said.  She resumed her kissing.

“But you told me that our parts didn’t work any more,” I said.

“That is true.  They don’t work like they used to.  But learning to make them work again is important if you want to try to appear more human,” said Joan. “Now focus on it and imagine the blood rushing to it.”

I tried, but my concentration was broken by her kisses.  It was strange because normally that would have done it.

“You’re concentrating too hard.” She stopped a moment to say.  That was all I needed.  I was able to focus and was ready to go.

“Ok, wow, I never thought not giving someone affection would be the key,” she said.  “Now feel this,” and she mounted me.  She put my hand to her chest and she started pumping.  As she worked the cold dead skin started to get a glimmer of color, and even her heart started beating, albeit faintly.

“Now you try it.  Imagine it beating.”

I focused inward and did as she said, gathering up all the focus I could.  I felt warmth enter my body and then my heart pumping.  I gasped and she stopped.

“OK, get dressed.  I’ve got more to teach you, but we have got to get you initiated into the city before Liquid comes for you.”

And so we went on our merry way to the City Hall building.  As we arrived, two men in black swat style suits came up and directed her to park her yellow bug in the service entrance.  We got out of the car and we went through the service door.

As we passed by all the office accessories and boxes, we came to a single white door.  Joan knocked twice and another man in black opened it.

“We’re here to see the Prince,” she said.

Silently he opened the door.  The room was large enough to fit about twenty people in comfortably, and the red walls had white tapestries on them.  There were cherry wood bookshelves lining the back wall, and a desk made out of the same material.  Behind it sat a slender woman with milky white skin, narrow glasses in a smart grey blazer.  She had brunette hair with a blonde streak in it, slightly offset to the left of her face.  To her left was Liquid.  The punk hadn’t changed appearance, I think he was even wearing the same shirt.

On entering Liquid smirked, “So you decided to use your boon to turn him?”

“Yeah, I couldn’t resist after the pool hall,” said Joan with a smile.

The woman spoke up, “What’s your name?”  She look pointedly at me and the other two stopped their japes at each other.  I could understand instantly why.  Under those eyes it felt like I was gazing straight at a lioness.

“Eight Ball,” I said.  I felt I should probably not say too much one way or another under those eyes.

“I am Camille LaBlanc, Prince of this city.  Has Joan explained the laws of your new condition?”  Camille LaBlanc asked.

“I have been told,” I replied.

“Welcome to my city.  You have the protections of the kindred and have been recognized. I have a feeling we shall see each other again.”

And with that we left the hall.  I didn’t think it would have been easy, but the Prince seemed a lot nicer than what I thought, if not slightly business like.

When we went out to start the car it wouldn’t turn over.  After a bout of swearing, Joan called the taxi service.  I was impressed when a yellow checkered cab arrived in just minutes, careening around the corner.  The driver had a derby hat and the ugliest face I ever saw.

We got in and Joan introduced me to the driver.  Apparently his name was Mighty Mouse and she said he was part of something called a coterie.  Basically vampires that help each other when they are in a bind.  I can’t say I got to know him very well, but he was a heck of a driver.  She had him take us to the Asylum on an island near the city.  I asked why we were going there and she informed me that we were going to meet the Primogen of clan Malkavian.

The Asylum here was built as a prison a long time ago.  It has an old style watch tower and a wardens tower to it.  As we walked through the entry I could see that the building had started to age, the paint was crumbling, and the walls had several places where they could have used a patch or two.  I asked Houdini if I should be intimidated as I hadn’t spoken to it all day long.  It’s response was “You may rely on it.”  That wasn’t promising.

Joan and I entered a waiting room and there was a desk with a toad of a nurse sitting at it.  She said something but I was so busy staring at the wart on her nose that it didn’t register.

“Admitting or Visiting?” asked the warted nurse in an irritated tone.  Her voice strained with the tell tale damage from years of hard whiskey and cigarettes.

“Visiting the Mole,” Joan responded.

The nurse didn’t even bother to respond, she pushed a button on a switch board and a large green light over a center door flipped on.  Joan walked straight to the door and a large man in a white security shirt opened it.  On stepping through, it appeared evident that maintenance was not a priority in this institution.

We went through a corridor with thick steel doors on either side, a single square of glass no taller or wider than my hand was the only window to the denizens within.  Joan looked straight ahead, but I couldn’t help but look.  Some cells were empty, others had wretched people within them.  Some peered out like creepy stalkers, while others smashed their faces against the Plexiglas and made lewd sounds.  Others you didn’t see at all, but you could hear an insane laughing behind the door.  It was as if the voices in the back of my head were given embodiment in this corridor.

Ahead of us was an old spiral stairwell.  We went down  into a circular room with several doors and a camera.  A green light went on over one door and I followed Joan in.  The room was completely padded, with a foam rubber floor.  On the far side of the room was another steel door, this one lacking a window.  In the center of the room was a desk, with a rail thin older man sitting at it.  He was wearing a charcoal suit and a red tie and looked very official.

“Is this the Primogen?” I asked Joan.

She chuckled a little bit.  “No, that’s his ghoul,” she replied.

“His ghoul?” I asked.  I noticed the man made no move to get up or even acknowledge us.  It seemed he was doing some sort of paperwork.

“Basically he’s addicted to our blood.  Once someone has about three drinks of a single Kindred’s blood, they become addicted to that kindred.”  Joan said.

I was going to ask another question but a loud buzzing drowned out anything I was about to say.  The gentleman at the desk got up in a single articulate movement and walked purposefully to the door.  He opened it and two men in white guard’s uniforms brought in a madman in a straight jacket on a dolly.

This madman practically oozed insanity, it was almost like a pressure he was giving off.  He was in a white straight jacket, buckled, and was quaking against the restraints as we watched him enter.  His hair was placed in several purple spikes with white tips at the end of them.  His eyes contained a blackness that could terrify anyone who looked to deeply in them.  As impossible as it was to look at him I had no choice but to watch.

The guards removed his muzzle and he slid the bonds off, sitting at the desk.

His voice was fevered as he spoke and a dribble of saliva constantly fell.  “Joan, what have you brought me?” He asked.

“Mr. Mole, I have brought you my fledgeling.  We seek your acceptance as Primogen to the Malkavian,”  Joan answered.

He stared at me with those eyes of his for a long moment.  It felt as if he was delving into my brain and straight through the back of my skull.  “Come here Eight.”

I knew I couldn’t resist.  I took one hesitant step forward, then another, then another.  It was only ten feet to the desk, but it felt like I was walking a mile.  Then when I finally felt I could stop, the Mole was on top of the desk, mere inches from my face.  He reached up and grasped my neck, somehow encompassing the whole front of it with one of his hands.  The voices started shrieking in in my head, laughing and crying, and then as soon as they had started they stopped.

He looked over my head to clearly see Joan.  “The bond with Malkav is strong in this one Joan.”  The Mole said.  “You did well to find him, I can sense it.”

“Thank you.” She said to the Mole.

The Mole’s grip was tightening, not to mention the drool that was now puddling on my head.  I sensed if I didn’t do something he wouldn’t stop.

I put my fingers between his and started prying them apart.  He brought his head down so we were nose to nose, his dark eyes once again staring at me.  I could see what was driving him inside, a foul beast.  It hungered for blood, lusted for death, and he was fighting it with every will of his being.  His face was torn in a rictus of lust and pain.  I began to feel his fingers tearing into my flesh.  That’s when I used my lesson earlier tonight to put the energy where I needed it.

I could see the surprise in his face when I pried his fingers out of my flesh, putting his hand where it belonged.  The two men in white subdued him and tied his bonds.  Stunned, I staggered back a few feet.  Even as I moved, I could feel the energy within me closing shut the wounds that the Mole had just caused.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Sometimes the beast gets the best of me.  You should go.  Teach him the talents Joan.”

I wasn’t going to argue, and they were already wheeling the Mole back to his residence.  We hustled out and found that Mighty Mouse was still out there waiting on us.

“So how was it?” asked Mighty Mouse.  He saw the ashen look on my face and said, “Never mind, I don’t want to know.”

Joan said, “Mighty Mouse can you take us home please.  He has a lot to learn, but tonight he needs to rest.”  He didn’t respond with much but a nod.

“What was wrong with him?” I asked, still rubbing my neck in shock.

“He has reached the point that his humanity is nearly gone.  When he realized this, he locked himself in the asylum for the sake of the city,” she replied.  “That’s why you need to control your primal urges.”

“I don’t want to be a freak like him,” I said.

“Keep that in mind when you feel yourself getting out of control,” Joan said.  “Find something to focus on, a memory or your surroundings, but don’t let the beast take you.”

Then we arrived home and I asked Houdini if I could write about tonight’s events.  It said “Yes” and here we go.