Let's Play: Vampire: Bloodlines

[Azisien]

Yes, a very impressive fight scene. I'm actually kind of glad I've never played this game (thinking back, it was Redemption I demoed, not Bloodlines). Makes it more of a picture book and less of a comparison of my play time. Plus I don't know what's coming, that's nice.

[Ryong]

Geez, that battle seemed confusing.

[Jagos]

Damn... So Gimble was hiding in the room and our lucky vampiress forgot to clear it.

DFM, you're a pretty good story teller.

[BitVyper]

Originally Posted by Ryong

Geez, that battle seemed confusing.

I could be wrong, but I think she frenzied. I'll spoiler tag my explanation of frenzy just incase you'd prefer to understand it through the narrative:

Everything - or at least most things in the World of Darkness - has an inner beast. This is essentially a really primal badass version of the id; seeking only to satisfy immediate physical urges. For your average mortal, the beast is pretty weak. For a vampire, it's a damn near physical force constantly pushing them to be the predators they are. Imagine if that little urge you feel to try and grab the last slice of cake were an overwhelming force that would cause you to butcher your best friend who happened to be going for it at the same time if you didn't actively quell it. That's basically a vampire's beast. Most of the time, it's just beneath the surface, but sometimes if a vampire is low on blood or injured, it takes over. This is called "frenzy." A frenzying vampire isn't really in full control, and if I recall correctly, often doesn't recall exactly what they did, hence the confusion.

Vampires are in a constant struggle with the Beast as they try to retain their humanity. The more disconnected they become, the stronger a hold it takes, until you're eventually left with a mad dog. Sadly, this is the fate of most vampires who live for an extended period of time; the beast always wins sooner or later. The reason why is a bit more of an in depth explanation.

Anyway, I'm really looking forward to the werewolf scene later on. I damn near pissed myself running from that thing. My bird was on his perch at the time, and its howl startled him so much, he immediately leaped onto my chest and dove inside my shirt. I actually tried to fight it the first time, which ended poorly. I can't wait to see how our Ventrue reacts

[DFM]

Originally Posted by Invisible Queen

Hey, why isn't the game that interesting when I play it? I'm jealous. :I

:3


Thanks everyone, sorry about the lateness of this update.

STORY CONTINUES NOW

------------------------------



I walk up the steps and out onto the parking lot. I'm covered in blood but at least Gimble'd been too busy tearing off my face to ruin the dress any more.

Jesus.

I've survived assassination attempts. I've driven through war zones. I've had my car crushed by passing tanks while I was busy with a client. I've had my convoys ambushed, had shipments hijacked while I was riding with them, had deals turn into firefights turn into massacres turn into a five second news headers. I've stared down the barrel of a gun more times than what's probably healthy for my psyche.

But I've never been through anything like... like that. I've never been... alone. There were always guards, always protection... always people shooting back at the people shooting at me. And the attackers were never... so close. If it weren't for the pop of gunfire you'd never know they were there. If I weren't... this thing I am now, I'd... be dead. I'd be chopped up into little pieces and spread all over his wall and... that would be it. Seventeen years of wading into and out of the most dangerous, unstable regions in the entire world and I'd be hacked apart by a fucking nut in fucking LA.

That's not how I'm going out.

If I'm going to get killed it's going to be because of who I am. Not just because I fit Bimbo #5 in some serial killer's profile. If someone tosses a grenade through my limousine's window it's going to be because they want the most powerful arms dealer in the world dead, not because they need a distraction for their bank heist. If they pull a derringer while I'm watching the opera it's going to be because my merchandise killed their family not because I'm too tall and they want a better view. If a Russian submarine torpedoes the cruise ship I'm on it's going to be because the entire country wants me dead and not because they want to provoke some third world country to military action.

I'm not somebody else's victim, I'm the star of the fucking show, you hear me Gimble?

The star of the fucking show.















I don't know if he hears me.



The parking garage is mostly abandoned this time of night. I head through it and take the long way to Kirkpatrick's office to avoid walking the streets looking like I just left the butcher's shop.



It's darker than I'd like, and I'm pretty sure I see something darting through the shadows, but I don't go poking around. Not quite ready to push my luck for awhile yet.



Arthur. Arthur, Arthur, Arthur you had better pray to whatever black hearted god you worship that I don't just shoot your fat ass on the spot.



He notices the blood. The gallons and gallons of it.

"Jesus Christ, are you alright? What the hell-"

"I'm fine. I'm a million fucking dollars. Carson is too but he's not coming back."

"Not coming..." His look changes. He thinks I killed him. Probably with a hatchet. "What do you mean he's not coming back."

"Serial killer ate his hand. Gotta get used to being a lefty."

"...Seriously?"

"No, I'm the fucking April fools bunny."

"Shit.. that's... that's pretty awful. At least he's... well, I suppose he's sorta alright."

"Money."



"Oh. Yeah, here. Sorry, I wasn't trying to gip ya or nothing. Hell... if Carson's gone that really puts me in some hot water."

"That's great, Arthur."

"I got this guy with a rap sheet a mile long, in on three warrants. His girlfriend put up for the bond but he missed the court date and now I can't find either of them."

"I don't care, Arthur."

"Look, I don't need you to bring him in or anything, I mean I legally can't since you're not licensed, I just need you to find out if he skipped town or what. I'll pay ya, real good money, too."

"...And I don't have to actually find him?"



"No, no body attachment or anything. I just need to find out if he's still in town or not. Easy money."

"No body attachment."

"No body attachment."

"How much money?"

"I dunno, say-"

"Four hundred dollars."

"Four hundred-"

He stops and then starts to sigh.

"Alright, fine. Four hundred dollars. Okay, guy's name is Mike Durbin. Goes by the name of 'Muddy'. His girlfriend put up for his bond, she lives in one of those shit hole apartments above Trip's Pawnshop. Her name's Marian Murietta, but I haven't been able to get in touch with her."

"Right, I know the place. What was he in for?"

"Well, he was brought up on manslaughter charges years back, but he got acquitted. Since then he's been in and out for this and that, small time stuff mostly. This time he got taken in as an accessory on that chop shop scandal that's been going on. Pretty huge, it's been on the news."

"Alright, good."

I turn around and walk out the door.



I'm dumb I'm dumb I'm dumb I'm dumb.

I take the Parking Garage to main street and stick to the back alley's from there. There isn't much in the way of law enforcement in this neighborhood but they'd probably roll in pretty quick if they got a call about a white woman in a bloody dress wandering around town.

It takes awhile, but eventually I make my way inside the apartments.



Thank god no one seems to live here but me. I head up the stairs and down the hall until I'm outside Marian's door. "No body attachment" he says.



We'll fucking see about that.



I can't hear anything from the other side of the door. Could be gone. Could be playing possum thinking the police were finally swinging by. Could be setting a trap. I decide against knocking on the door and squeeze the handle.



"Marian!"



Empty. She'd been long gone and she'd taken everything with her. I guess that's better than what I was expecting.



Everything except an answering machine. Odd thing to leave. There's a new message, one I guess she didn't get. I press play.



"Hey Mare, it's Mike. I'm gonna head downtown for a few days, maybe longer. If Reno calls, tell him to meet me down there, we got something to 'discuss', apparently. Sorry baby, I'll explain everything later."

That should be all Arthur needs. It's all he's going to get, anyway.



I head across the hallway into my apartment and close the door behind me. I need to change. I need to take a shower.



I need a goddamn hot shower.

Thirty minutes later I wrap myself in a towel and take the shredded rags that used to be a dress down to the laundry mat just off the entryway. That is, I take them to the broom closet that's stuffed with a washing machine some greedy asshole jury rigged with a coin slot. When I get it back, the red's faded into smaller splotches of brown, so it looks like I got hit with a diarrhea bomb. Whatever, I don't care anymore. I walk back to the apartment and throw the dress on again, tossing the towel on the mattress. My hair's still wet but I don't care about that either. It's probably raining again anyway. I grab the Astrolite and head down the stairs and out the door.



I tell Kirkpatrick his paycheck's fled downtown and he moans about having to get a new bounty hunter. He thanks me, though, and coughs up the four hundred dollars. I guess being a maniac covered in blood can actually make some negotiations easier. I take the money and the bomb back to the Santa Monica suits.



The blood trail actually makes me happy.



I'm not the only one having a shitty day.

[DFM]

"Hey, Mercurio. You still with me?"

"God... yeah. You get the Astrolite?"

"Right here." I hold it up and set it down next to the sofa.

"Good. You waste those sons of bitches?"

"Nah. Starting to think I should have, though."

"Ah well... get my money back at least?"

I don't know why, but I smile a little.

"Yeah, Merc. Here you go."

I don't even tell him what I went through to get it.

"Oh, god you're a lifesaver. I might have to buy some new kidney's with this."

"What'd you need the bomb for, anyway?"

"You mean what you need the bomb for. You gotta make someplace disappear. A warehouse. Looks to be a Sabbat interest."

"Why? What's in there?"

"I haven't seen it myself but I heard a lot about that operation. I'd love toget in there, get my hands on the equipment they've been unloading. But... ah, it'd be suicide to walk in there, got a small army of trigger-happy types and they're all packin' I don't know how you're gonna get the bomb in there, maybe... uh..."

He's quite for a few seconds, eyes focused on the floor before he looks back up at me.

"Only one thing I can think of, and that's... well, there's this guy. I never met him, but I heard a lot about him. His name is Tung, Bertram Tung. He's one o' you types. If there's anyone who knows more about about this city than me, it's him. You ask, he can tell you how to get in."

"So where is he?"



"See, that's the thing. Tung's... sorta hiding out at the moment. He's lying low because of Therese, Therese Voerman, you know her? Anyway, word is Therese and Tung are feuding. I don't know the details. My take's that Tung's about to get whacked, so he's gone underground until Therese calls it off. But if I know Therese, that ain't gonna happen. If you want to find Tung, you're gonna have to get Therese to call of the feud."

I get the sinking feeling this is going to be one of those Murphy's Law operations.

"Alright... so who's Therese? I've never met her. Or... heard of her."

"Oh... well, she's the woman around here. Power player. Nice looking broad for a dead chick, but, uh, personality like stone. She and her sister, Jeanette, they run The Asylum. It's a club a couple of blocks south. Some freaky customers frequent that place, I try not to do business there."

"What're they like? Do they get along? I need to know every angle I can if I want to stand a chance of getting her to call off the hit."



"Well, Therese... Therese I don't like, but I can respect her. She's a bitch but she keeps her word and usually plays the game pretty clean. Jeanette... Jeanette's different. I don't know what to make of her. She's a little, you know, in the head. It's weird. Therese is, well, like you, and I would think so's Jeanette but... I hear rumors about her."

"Rumors?"

"Uh... call me old-fashioned, but, ah, I just can't talk about that kinda thing in front of a woman."

"Oh. Those kinds of rumors. Hmm. I might be able to use that. Thanks Merc. I'll be back for the bomb. Don't go knocking down while I'm gone."

I smile and give him a wink before I leave. I don't know what it is, exactly. Maybe it's because we're in the same business, maybe it's because the world looks to be shitting on him as bad as it is me, but I like Mercurio. At the very least, he's not an asshole like everyone else I've met in the last twenty four hours.

I head out the door and follow Mercurio's directions to the club where Therese is supposed to be. Vampire's running a night club. I wonder if it's filled with red neon. Or double doors that they can throw open angrily.

I turn the corner and get my first look at the building. Lightning flashes behind it in the horizon.



Nothing sinister about that.



I'm not entirely sure what to expect when I turn the nobs and head inside, but given my guessing track record I'm fairly certain it includes red neon. I open the door and, for a moment, it does. There's shitty alternative punk blasting through the speakers and misfits and losers covered in hot topic vomit are twisting and writhing on the red glow of what I assume is a dance floor. It's exactly what I'd jokingly imagined and in an instant, it's gone.

It's gone and every thing's black. I look down and see my hands. The lights aren't out, wh-

"What do we have here?"

The voice is low, sultry. Like something out of a phone sex ad. It's coming from somewhere to my right. I feel something near my neck, hear an intake of air. I jerk away and spin around, hands raised.

Nothing.

"You smell new, little girl. Like fabric softener dew on freshly mowed Astroturf. You must be another scrumptious young plaything straight out of life and into my club."

I take a few steps backwards, looking around me. It's still pitch black but it's not dark.

"Alright, you can cut this shit right the fuck out."

"Ooh, I'm not frightening you am I, duckling?" The voice is behind me now.

"You're pissing me off is what you're doing." I stop for a moment, still looking around the blackness. "What are you doing?"

The voice is above me.

"Oh, I'm just thinking about this delicious little pancake who came into my club and wasn't so sweet because she was soaked in vinegar."

"You're fucking crazy."

"So's the world, but we just keep riding its moonlit carousel regardless."

At least the voice could stop moving.

"Alright." I stand still, lower my hands a little. Whatever it is, I might be safer playing games with it than calling it on it's bullshit. "What... who are you?"

The voice laughs, soft and low, moving around me in a circle.

"I'm the finger down your spine when all the lights are out."

Something brushes down my back through the fabric of my dress and I half freeze, half jump away. It laughs again.

"I'm the name on all the men's room walls."

It's coming from below me, now.

"When I cry, the whole world tries to make me smile."

To my left, a little above me.

"And whenever I walk by, everyone always asks, who... is... that girl?"

There's a breeze through my hair as the voice cross to my right.

"You have a name to go with... that?"

"I.."

The voice is closer, softer, too.

"Am..."

It's almost in my ear, barely a whisper. I can feel a cool breath on my skin.

Someone flips a switch. The lights are on. The club's back. The music is playing. There's a woman standing in front of me.



"Jeanette." Her voice isn't sultry anymore. It's sing-song.

"And this little bit of chaos wrapped in a certifiable giggle is my club." She grins and looks me over, lingering a little longer on certain parts than I'd like. "Oh, I'd just love to give you funny feelings all night, sweetheart, but I was on my way to trouble with some business when you came in. We'll reunite sweet and soon."

She leans in as she walks away, her voice back to its sultry self.

"I promise."

I blink and watch her walk away towards an old wire cage elevator. From the way she's walking, it looks like she wants me to, so I stop. I make my way over to the bartender, a fat, bald man covered in tattoos.



"Hey, what can I getcha?"

"I'm here on business."

"So? Girls get their first drink free, house rules."

"I'm just here to see Therese. Where is she?"

"The boss? She's upstairs. She said she was too busy to see anyone, but I can hear her and Jeanette bickerin' from here. Why'd you need to see her?"

Given my current state, I don't think he'd believe my normal lie of overseeing a corporate merger. I try to aim a little lower.

"She's suppose to interview me for a hostess position."

He blinks.

"Really? Damn I wish that was my job. Go on up and see her, I'll buzz you in."




TERROR IS THE FEAR OF DEATH.



"Lady? Hey! Are you alright?"

I stare at him for half a moment before I shake my head.

"I'm... fine. I just... I guess I spaced out for a minute."

I don't know what the hell that was.

I slide off the bar stool and head to the elevator, hitting the button to call it down. I hope to god that doesn't happen again. If I go crazy on top of everything else, that'll be the straw that breaks the camel's worn out fucking back. The elevator comes down and the wire cage slides open. I step inside and it starts rising up.



The awful screaming of the band below gradually drains away as the elevator rises to the top floor. It dings, and I step off. I near the only available door when voices start drifting through the wall.



"But I wasn't sticking my fingers in anyone's pie, dear sister. Whatever do you mean?"

"Of course you weren't. Just like you weren't working with him. Just like you weren't... ugh, consorting with him. If you think you can humiliate me in my own city..."

"Your city? Last I checked it was called Santa Monica, not Stuck Up Bitch."

"Vulgar. I can't believe we're even related anymore. Look at what you've turned into, you Jezebel."

"Therese, you paint such a flattering picture with your turn of the century barbs. And here I thought you could do nothing but look down on me."

"Fine, then. Go ahead and mock me. Pull your pranks, make fun of my standards, my morals, my values, it suits you. You're just one big joke."

"Don't you call me that!"

"Should I start calling a duck a pig as well, then?"

"I'm your sister... how can you treat me like this?"

"Is it any different than how you treated father?"

"Shut up! Just shut up!"

There's crying. I can hear a door slam.

"That's right, Jeanette. Run. Run away from your problems. Run away from what you've become and go find solace in the first thing you see with two legs."

A brief silence, then muttering.

"Or four."

I hesitate a moment before entering. It's an office mixed with a bedroom, stylish with a hint of menace. Therese is sitting behind a desk, typing something into a laptop. She stands when she sees me and greets me with a handshake.



"Welcome! Please, have a seat. I do apologize for my sister's crassness, I'm sure she went to bother you as soon as she saw you. She's unabashedly scandalous, but... in the club business I suppose that kind of personality is a necessary evil."

I smile. A real smile. Two days ago I could have been looking in a mirror. Polite, professional... if the rest of the vampires in this city were like her...

"As long as she doesn't do it again, we'll have no issues. Besides, I hardly expect anyone to be their sibling's keeper. You must be Therese."

"Therese Voerman, yes. I'm the proprietor of this club, and really, the only person in this city whose good side it's in your best interest to stay on." She grins a little, adjusting her glasses. "What bring you to Santa Monica?"

"Well..." I hesitate slightly. She didn't seem like the type to order an assassination. "I was actually hoping you could call off the hit on Bertram Tung."



She seems a little surprised.

"Tung's exile is self-imposed, I assure you. Not that I don't have every reason to want him dead, bloody Nosferatu scoundrel."

"Why? What'd he do?"

"He meddles in my affairs, for one. He's a bad influence on my sister and she on him. If you were in my place, would you let him compromise your authority? You most certainly would not. In fact, I'd quite like it if I never had to hear that name again."

I eye her a little warily.

"You... want me to kill him?"

She almost laughs, like I'd just made a bad pun or witty observation.

"I'm not sure the Camarilla would find that an acceptable method of dealing with one's rival, and right now I very much need their approval to become officially recognized as the legitimate administrator of this city."

I breath an inward sigh of relief.

"So you can just put the word out that everything's okay and he's not in any danger, right?"

She raises an eyebrow.

"Why would I do that? Let him think I mean to kill him. That way I don't have to worry about him sabotaging everything. Do you realize how his constant subterfuge makes me look to the Camarilla? Tung and his co-conspirator's actions have ruined my chance at partnership in a crucial piece of property."

"There's got to be something that'll make it worth letting him out of the woodwork."

She thinks for a few moments, fingers pursed against her lips.



"Hmm... I'd be willing to make it publicly known that my grievances with Tung have been swept under the rug, but in return, you'll have to help me with a particularly promising property I"m looking to invest in."

"What's the problem?"

"The development has been, to say the least, an ordeal. I need you to remove a particularly burdensome spirit from the presence."

"Gang infestation?"

She blinks for a moment, confused. Then she grins again, her tone sympathetic.

"Ahh... I forgot, you're still new to this. Allow me to let you in on another one of the masquerade's little secrets. Ghosts are real. So are werewolves, mummies and I expect a whole lot of other things I've never heard of share the night with us."

"Wait... wait, you want me to excise a demon?"

"Not a demon, a ghost. Demons aren't exactly beginner stuff."

"I... that doesn't help me at all, I don't know how to banish a ghost."

"You don't have to. Rumor is that a personal item of a ghost's can be used to draw it out and excise it from its haunt. I don't put a lot of stock in grapevine hearsay, but it's my last option. I want you to go to the Ocean House hotel, find something of the spirit's, and bring it back to me. I'll take it to someone who can handle all the incantation mumbo jumbo."

"...what if I can't find anything?"



"If you have to tear the building apart, do so. Three construction crews have already refused to go back to work because they've been... spooked, so to speak. Kine are getting remarkably superstitious these days."

"After I do that, you've got to call off the feud."

"Oh, I fully intend to do so. You'll find that dealing with me is appreciably more predictable than dealing with some of the egomaniacs that are my peers. So long as our business doesn't go sour, my word is gold. Oh..."

She reaches into a desk drawer and pulls out a key.

"You'll need this to get into the front gate, it's locked this time of night. There should be a key to the hotel proper inside the construction manager's trailer."

I take the key.

"Alright... I'll be back... soon."

"Thank you. I know you're not being altruistic, but this has been a remarkable thorn in my side and I'll be glad to be rid of it."

Next Update: Ocean House Hotel

[Krylo]

OOoooooohhhh.

Skeery.

Don't take so fuckin' long this time.

[Mirai Gen]

Ugh, I hated the Ocean House level. I have no doubt a little DFM injection will make it a kabillion times better.

[BitVyper]

I loved it, mostly because I was having Clocktower flashbacks at the start, jumping at my own shadow and such, and then about halfway through it suddenly clicked in my head; "wait a minute, I'm a fucking VAMPIRE! *I'm* the reason men fear the night! What can you do? Rattle a few pots and pans? I've seen more frightening ouija boards!"

I felt very genuinely in character throughout it.

[Mirai Gen]

Oh no doubt the entire "Haunted house being infiltrated by a vampire" role reversal was totally appropriate.

I'm just not very good with scary games or movies, and it was bad enough that I was presented a game and picked the 'beat the fuck out of people with your bare hands' Gangrel and after being able to use said awesome beating-out-the-fuck-of power I was suddenly helpless as a 10 year old girl's spirit turned my world into Creepysville.

That and replaying it, like most scary games, was just annoying as I was forced into being scared by the same stuff a second time, walking on broken planks of wood and trying to go through as quickly as possible to get to the action or dialog again.

So, yes, I hated it because I'm a wuss.

EDIT: Spoiler texted, just in case.

For below: And yeah, that was way scarier, but that was more due to OH SHIT IT'S A WEREWOLF. I played some White Wolf RPGs before, so I went into the werewolf encounter knowing just how powerful they are and therefore how totally fucked I was.