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You flip through the pages of the same “What If?” history book for what seems like the hundredth time. Seeing if anything catches your eye. You glance to the side, nodding to the tired library worker passing you by. He greets you under his breath with a “Evenin’ Nena,” as he passes. The campus library staff knows you by name. Although you weren’t there much during your college days, you’ve practically worn a spot in the carpet as an alumni now. You sigh again, looking up at the pile of your favorite books. They couldn’t comfort you now. You know you couldn’t keep these, even if you checked them out over and over again. They weren't the same. You miss the highlight marks you made in your books, the loving wear and tear you put into them.

When Mother took them and sold them to a second hand bookstore, the bitch didn’t even give you a cut. Not that you wanted to sell them. You scowl at the thought of her. You argued with her before going into work today - another exhausting day at the indoor waterpark, sweating your tits off. Going into work pissed. Disappointment stacked on disappointment. And then the ultimate disappointment. You graduated with a degree in your passion: English. “Follow your dreams, the money will come,” you told yourself. Because no one else in your family would. Your hobbies were just that to them. Distractions. Not something to sink your degree in.

Money, money, money. Yeah it’s important. “But that’s rich coming from you, Mom. Marrying into money, not finishing your first year of college, working part time jobs to feed your shopping addiction," you whisper to yourself. You glance about the library. You chuckle at yourself, “that time of the night already, huh?” At least you didn't answer yourself.

The first warning signs then appeared. A set of lights turned off, dimming the massive library. Your cue to begin walking out. You check the time on your phone and see it’s almost 11 PM. Not even a call from your folks, despite the time. You’d usually be home from work about 9:30. Living with the parents still.

You grunt, the strain of the shift still hanging on your body as you stand. Your legs ache after standing and pacing around screaming children in the pools. A nice tall chair to sit and watch the swimmers? Fuck that, you get to pace and scan the pool, bitch. And you bet your sweet ass a micromanaging supervisor will be making sure you’re doing the job by the book. Making sure you weren't in the bathroom for too long. You sigh, gathering your books and returning them to their proper space on the shelves.
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>>5241757
“Damn, the amount of time I spend here, they might as well hire me,” you smile, the first time in hours, thinking to your high school buddy. He hung around the second hand video game store so much that they ended up hiring him. You glance around, scowling at the imaginary librarian. The same questions about your career bubble up in your head. ‘Do you want to be an English teacher? Do you want to be a librarian?’ Definitely not a fucking teacher, you’d need a teaching degree for that nowadays. Hell, you can’t even put books up without a library science degree. The city library wouldn’t interview you. All because your degree didn't have the magic 'library science' on it. You've messed and digested books your whole life. “Bullshit,” you curse under your breath. This whole college was a waste of fucking time. All the expectations with none of the skills. You wish you knew how useless that framed piece of paper hanging in your room would be.

The last book in your hand is probably your favorite. Well, your favorite in philosophy at least. You crack it open in your hands, seeing your finger prints on the glossy high quality pages. “Fuck ‘em, I’m in debt for the rest of my life, I can at least leave smudges on their shit.” Turning to the page instantly brightens your mood.

If there are gods and they are just, then they will not care how devout you have been, but will welcome you based on the virtues you have lived by.

“I’m trying, Emperor,” you say, realizing you’re talking to a book written by a man nearly two millenia dead. You gently close and place it on the shelf.

The lights suddenly go out. You are enveloped by darkness. You get your phone out, seeing it’s a little past 11. But the library doesn’t close til midnight and there was no last call for everyone to leave. What the hell?

You jiggle your smart phone in your hand, the white LED light cutting into the darkened halls. Nothing. You fast walk to the desk you were sitting at, retrieving your belongings. You go to the receptionist desk, trying not to panic. No one. You lean over the desk. A half filled energy drink, some snacks, even a phone and purse out in the open. The employees didn’t just leave you.
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>>5241758
And a figure is looking down at you. Your adrenaline kicks in.

>Oh dear, oh dear, my dear audience. Seems like Ms. Nena King is on the precipice. She doesn’t know it yet, but a vampire has come for her. Come to Embrace her into the ranks of the Kindred. Why would they do this? Who knows… We don’t always get to know everything. But the strings of fate are right in front of you. You’re able to strum them, manipulate them a bit.

>Vote on one
>1. Stand your ground. “Who are you? What’s going on?”
>2. Run. Find a side exit.
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>>5241762
>2. Run. Find a side exit.
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>>5241762
>2. Run. Find a side exit.
Are you using V20 lore or V5 lore QM if you don't mind me asking
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>>5241762
>1. Stand your ground. “Who are you? What’s going on?”
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>>5241762
>2. Run. Find a side exit.
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>>5241758
>Hell, you can’t even put books up without a library science degree. The city library wouldn’t interview you.

Is that actually true nowadays?

My mom worked as a librarian and her degree was in psychology and I worked as a lab tech in a chemical plant without a degree with in chemistry. What kind of shit ass high standards public library is this?

>>5241762
>1. Stand your ground. “Who are you? What’s going on?”

I mean, unless they are hanging from the ceiling or something overtly off then we don't have any reason to think they are an ax murderer just yet.
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>>5241757
No offense to you OP, but I'm kind of disappointed that this isn't the other Vampire of the Masquerade quest. I hope yours will be significantly more successful.
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>>5241966
The libraries in my area seem to be weirdly strict on this. This is from my own experience of course.

>>5241993
Oh? What was the other VTM quest like? And thank you :D

>>5241783
I do not mind you asking! We will be using V5 lore. But no real mechanics from V5.

I suppose this is a good a time as any to give y'all the details.

First off, welcome! Divinity in the Blood is set in Charlotte, North Carolina. It takes place in modern nights of 2022.

No dice will be used in this quest. For those who have played the Coteries/Shadows of New York visual novels, this quest will be setup more like that than a traditional pen and paper game.

Choices and RP will take precedence over stats of any kind. The only thing I will keep track of is Hunger. This shows how sated and full of blood you are. Hunger 0 means you are full and your Beast is in slumber. Hunger 5 is ravenous, your Beast on the verge of taking over and drinking a mortal dry.

Using any vampiric Disciplines (in our case Auspex, Dominate and Blood Sorcery) will cause our Hunger to go up, using the blood we have stored to activate the ability. Choices that use Disciplines will be clearly marked with the Discipline name in parentheses.

Drinking from a mortal or a blood bag will lower your Hunger by 1, and you can only drink from a person once a night. You can drink from multiple people, but you cannot "double dip" on the same individual.

Drinking a mortal dry, whether you are controlled by your Beast or not, will fully sate you to the point of being Hunger -2. This is the ONLY way to get your Hunger below 0 and lower it by more than one unit. But is a human life worth sating the Beast? Popping off two more abilities than normal? That remains to be seen...
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>>5241762
>2. Run. Find a side exit.

You don’t know who this creep is, but every fiber of your being tells you to run. You dash forward toward the stairs to the basement level, running underneath the figure. You don’t hear anything over the plastic-on-plastic of your lifeguard whistle and nametag, and your footfalls. You hustle down the steps, swiftly turning down the carpeted steps.

Heavy footsteps come behind you as you reach the bottom of the stairs. You don’t glance back. Your body is almost on autopilot, your mind only caring about seeing anything in your way and dodging it. Running past shitty plastic chairs and tables, you dash by the glass paned study rooms. And see… Trapped people? You don’t care. You can’t care. Not right now.

You catch a glimpse of the hooded figure and… Blurs around him? No time. Seeing the exit and the night sky, your steps quicken, hard breathing making your lungs raw. You weren’t out of shape, but you just barely pass the swim exam every year.

Practically tackling the door bar, you enter the vestibule. No bars on this exit door. You’re about to repeat the your smooth tackle when you are pulled back. Your dyed white hair feels like it’s trying to pull your scalp off. Your vision blurs. Getting up and turning to face the chaser, you see him clearly now. All black, wearing a scarf and ski goggles like Covid was in its heyday, you can’t see any details. He raises his hand and crooks his fingers down.

You are gripped by an invisible force. Your body ceases to move despite trying to move it. It moves without your command, laying down on your back and tilting your head, leaving your neck bare. “Looks like she’s willing, boys. Cute alt girl cattle.” You hear other voices laugh and walk toward you. The man with the ski goggles pulls down his scarf, revealing fangs and dried blood around his mouth. He straddles you, feeling his body against yours.

Whatever force is holding you down lessens in strength.

>1. “Get the fuck off me if you know what’s good for you!”
>2. Grab your whistle and blow as hard as you can.
>3. Kick him in the groin, punch his face.
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>>5242009
>3. Kick him in the groin, punch his face.
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>>5242009
>3. Kick him in the groin, punch his face.
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>>5242007
Yikes, V5 Hunger is super punishing if I recall correctly. Guess we also have to worry about the super wanked Second Inquisition too.

>>5242009
>3. Kick him in the groin, punch his face.

Not that it'll do anything against what we're up against...
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>>5242009
>1. “Get the fuck off me if you know what’s good for you!”
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>>5242009
>>1. “Get the fuck off me if you know what’s good for you!”
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>>5242007
The last quest was a tzimisce in the middle ages. Loved that quest but it died on thread 2 or 3. It was called ancient blood, had dice rolls, and was rather fun. Sadly most quests die early on due to lack of participants or IRL stuff.
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>>5242036
The Second Inquisition is around but I'll tell ya up front I don't intend to make them the main antagonist of the quest.

>>5242109
Ohh that sounded like it was fun! I'll admit a Dark Ages Vampire quest was in my head for a while, but I wanted to do something modern day first. Get my feet wet with writing in the WoD.

>>5242009
>3. Kick him in the groin, punch his face.

You retaliate, jabbing him with your knee and punching his cheek. His head barely moves in reaction to your punch. He seems to have balls of steel as well. He picks you up by your neck like a porcelain doll, holding you to his face. His breath smells of copper and rot. You choke back some technicolor as he chuckles through fanged teeth. “Spirited, aren’t you?”

“Let me go.” You grit your teeth defiantly, looking him square in his goggles. He grins. Your eyes widen, seeing a second row of teeth and fangs in his mouth. “What the fuck…”

“I’ll let you go,” he states, holding you still as he rises. He easily picks you up one handed, feet dangling. Your jaw rubs against his rough skin. His two friends flank him, wearing masks. “Enjoy the trip!” He drops you and you fall. You fall further than you have ever fallen before. You watch the library fade away through a hole - a hole shaped like you.

Tumbling through darkness, a darkness blacker than anything you’ve ever experienced. Mouths, eyes, skulls, hands, they all crowd around you in a macabre dance. You scream as they grab you and rub against you. Your vision blurs, falling, falling, falling–

“....won’t die that easily.” Your back in the thug’s arms again. A cold sensation through your stomach. A new face in front of you. A woman with black hair. And a sword through your body. She pulls it out and you slump to the floor. Death. You saw it flash before your eyes. That had to be it. But you were falling…

Your vision fades. Your heart slows its beating, blood spilling forth. “Fuck…” You whisper, closing your eyes.

Only to open them. The black haired woman stands in front of you. You move, only to feel leather straps against you, tying you to something like a dentist’s chair. You’re upright and in a room that’s not familiar to you. “All right, freak,” you catch your breath. You find you don’t feel the urge to breathe anymore. You inhale, but your body doesn’t exhale. Eyes darting about, you push your wrist down against the chair arm. No pulse.

Anger rushes through you.

>1. (Dominate) “Let me out.”
>2. (Auspex) You wish to glare daggers at her.
>3. (Blood Sorcery) You spit at her.
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>>5242191
>2. (Auspex) You wish to glare daggers at her.
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>>5242191
>1. (Dominate) “Let me out.”

We've been getting fucked over our entire life. Now it's our turn to do some (mind) fucking!
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>>5242191
>2. (Auspex) You wish to glare daggers at her.
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>>5242191
>1. (Dominate) “Let me out.”

Blood Sorcery will always be the most interesting as it is basically just straight up magic, but Dominate would be my second pick. Auspex isn't really as interesting to me though you can eventually do some decent things with seeing auras or seeing through lies and stuff like that if I recall correctly.
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>>5242191
>2. (Auspex) You wish to glare daggers at her.
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>>5242191
>>3. (Blood Sorcery) You spit at her.
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>>5242191
>1. (Dominate) “Let me out.”
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>>5242191
>Tie between 1 & 2.

Pushing against your constraints again, you give the woman a glare, baring your teeth. You hope your eyes convey your utter hatred. Your voice drips in anger as you demand, “Let. Me. Out.”

Her eyes widen, betraying her otherwise cool demeanor. Your eyes mirror hers. Your senses sharpen, peering into the dark corners of the room, seeing them clearly. The traffic outside becomes much more audible. And the sterile smell of the place is almost assaulting. You see things beyond, lines of red at the entry ways into the building. Then it hits you. You can see these lines through the walls.

The woman grins as she walks up to you, standing beside you and looking down. Pale skin contrasted by black makeup, lipstick, leather jacket and jeans. Couldn’t be too much older than you, maybe mid thirties. She ignores your demand. “Do you realize what you just did?”

Your lack of breathing makes you want to breathe harder and… Anxious thoughts don’t make your blood pump at all. Your senses dull back to normal, the traffic outside a background murmur, the red lines vanish. It’s all replaced with an empty feeling inside your stomach. It felt like that time you thought you had some sort of parasite in your stomach, eating all your food. God you felt stupid at the buffet that day. No. This is worse. It started in your abdomen and slowly splays out, creeping up your spine and into your mouth.

“No.” You answer her, worried and frightened. “What happened?”

“This was going to happen. You had been chosen. The circumstances just weren’t ideal.”

You give her an incredulous look. “You mean me about to get beaten and raped?”

She gives you a level look. “They were going to do far worse than that.” Her face softens, but she doesn’t smile. “My name is Maxine. I would say I saved your life, but… By the time I got to you, you were cold.”

“So I’m dead?”

“Yes and no.” Now she smiles and you feel it’s a bit condescending. Or playful, you can’t tell.

“How the fuck am I still…” You blink, shrug, move around in the chair, “doing this shit then?”
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>>5242721
“You’re a vampire.” You exhale from your nose and lean your head back, looking away. “I’m serious, Nena King.” Your eyes dart back to her. You never gave your name. Her tone was stone cold. “Feel me,” she places her wrist to your fingers. No pulse. No heat. “I’ve been watching you. A young college grad thrown into the world. Making her part time job into her full time one. Searching and wanting more. The passion is there. You try. And try. The amount of resumes you’ve handed out could fill a filing cabinet. A degree of any kind meant a lot more twenty years ago.” She stands closer to you, cupping your chin with long black nails. You shiver. Fright? Excitement? Your eyes lock with hers. “I see the intellectual. Rough in language and demeanor. The old clan would’ve never considered you… But I’m not the old guard.” You furrow your brow. “You and I are Kindred. That’s what we call vampires in our secret society. Our society is divided by lineage into clans.”

“Oh good. Nepotism. That thing that works for everyone but me.” Your thoughts trail to your father’s international company. No family hires, even if you were a traveling agent.

“The more things change, the more they stay the same,” Maxine smirks. “You have a whole new world waiting for you. You are the ruler of the night and the blood.” The mere mention of the word makes that ache in your body tingle again. You blink, wishing you could breathe to calm your mind.

“Why me, Maxine?”

“Because I need you, Nena King. Our society, the Camarilla, is in a rough patch. They need blood sorceresses like us.” You perk at the term and Maxine notices. “You and I are of Clan Tremere. One of the few clans that can manipulate blood like magic. But what you did earlier… Prodigal.” A black nail caresses your jawline up to your chin. “You just woke up as a Kindred and are already trying to use your supernatural abilities on me. Mostly Auspex, but a little bit of Dominate thrown in.”

“God, please, don’t call me a dominant.” You think back to your forays into the clubs in Charlotte.

“Dominate, childe–”

You cut her off. “I’m also not a fucking child!”

She grips your jaw, a bit more firmly this time. “I know you’re confused and you have a thing against manipulating women in your life.” Ouch. Just fucking throw me in the therapist chair next time. “You and I have a connection. I gave you my blood. I am your Sire and you are my Childe. You have to trust me. I’m here to help you.”

Options run through your head.
>1. Relent. “Fine. I’ll trust you.”
>2. Resist. “Why should I? You have me strapped down like a piece of meat!”
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>>5242723
>2. Resist. “Why should I? You have me strapped down like a piece of meat!”
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>>5242723
>2. Resist. “Why should I? You have me strapped down like a piece of meat!”
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>>5242723
>2. Resist. “Why should I? You have me strapped down like a piece of meat!”

This would be a lot to take in for anyone all of a sudden. Throwing in all their esoteric terms in the modern day and expecting to be taken seriously doesn't help.
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>>5242723
>2. Resist. “Why should I? You have me strapped down like a piece of meat!”
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>>5242723
>2. Resist. “Why should I? You have me strapped down like a piece of meat!”
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>>5242723
>Resistant

Gonna need to work on your bedside manner.
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>>5242733
>>5242744
>>5242755
>>5242757
>>5242766
>>5242770

All right, our first overwhelming win! Gonna write up the next post now.
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>>5242723
>2. Resist.

You snarl at her, tearing your chin from her grasp. “Why should I? You have me strapped down like a piece of fucking meat!” You shake your head, gritting your teeth. “I know what this is. You’re a fucking stalker. That’s how you know my name and my personal shit. You wanted to bleed me out a bit and do some back alley blood transfusion so you’ll ‘be inside of me’ or some psycho shit.” Maxine simply watches you. You grin. “Angry I got it right? Your bullshit about clan and societies.” You shake your head. “Get me out of here.”

Maxine shrugs, walking behind you and undoing all of your constraints. As soon as the last one goes loose you jump out of the chair, holding your fists up to defend yourself. “I’ve dealt with your kind before,” you speak. “Creepy stalkers wanting to date at best, making their own love story in their head at worst.”

“You’re just angry no one’s ever actually wanted you like that before.”

The emptiness doesn’t travel up your back this time. It’s unbridled rage. You check it, keep it down. “Fuck you, Maxine. If that’s your real name.”

“Did I hit a button, dear childe?”

You shake your head again. “We’re done here.” Going up the nearby flight of stairs, you storm out of what looks to be an office building. The signage seems to indicate a health recovery business. You look around, and check your phone, still on you alongside your other belongings. 2 AM. You notice a new shirt on you, your uniform not to be found in your pack.

“Fuck,” you look up and see you’re across the street from the Regal cinema. A familiar place at least. Four miles away from the campus and the library. Gas stations dominate the property right against Highway 29, backed by either apartments, shopping strips, or forests behind them. You remember when it was just the theater and the pharmacy here. You gaze out at the in-city highway intersection, cars passing by and the stoplights shifting colors in the night air.

You try your phone, calling home. Then your parents' cell phones. Then the police. Each one only rings once before the call drops. “Psycho bitch did something,” you mutter, putting your phone away. You think of where to go and what to do next. That strange emptiness crawls through your body again, but you shake it off.

>1. Get back to campus, get your car, get home.
>2. Go to the hospital. Something is not right with your body.
>3. Go to the bar and take a few shots. Then call for a ride.
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>>5242826
>>>1. Get back to campus, get your car, get home.
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>>5242826
>1

We'll come around. She knows that. But first, we have to run free.
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>>5242826
>1. Get back to campus, get your car, get home.

Gotta get some shuteye before work tomorrow
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>>5242826
>1. Get back to campus, get your car, get home.
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>>5242826
>1.Get back to campus

Given the hour, you know public transport isn’t available. You look to the right, southward, over the highway intersection about a quarter mile away. You sigh, thinking of climbing up the concrete incline, only to go down it. No sidewalk. No streetlamps. About two miles of forests on either side before you get on the same block as the University. You nod to yourself, crossing the street, skirting along the cinema side of the road before going up that incline.

You recall it being cold outside earlier. It couldn’t have warmed up after midnight. You could feel all four seasons in a few days here in North Carolina, but it wouldn’t be that crazy. Could it? You walk along the shoulder, your phone light shining on the ground to show drivers you were there. Bringing up your free hand, you exhale to warm it. And feel nothing. Your fingers go to your neck, recalling your CPR training on how to identify a pulse. Your fingertips push in between your esophagus and muscle. No pulse. “What the fuck did she do to me?”

As you mutter, you see a figure walking toward you on the road shoulder. You glance around and tilt your phone toward him, trying not to blind them. It’s a man with a scarf around his head and wearing a camera around their neck and he puts his hands up in reaction to the light. “Good evening, lady,” he says guardedly. “A fellow midnight walker?”

The phrase reminds you of a heavy metal song you’ve listened to. “Guess I am tonight.” You reply flatly. You glance about the total darkness along this strip of the road. You see the stars and the outline of the treetops. No cars coming by.

“C-careful if you’re going to campus tonight, miss,” he says, tapping the top of his camera. “Big scoop. Some sort of scuffle in the library. Lots of blood. I got there before the blue light special came in.”

You tense at his words. “What did the corpses look like?”

He gives you a look, a turn of his head. “Corpses? There were no corpses.” He pulls out a pen and pad. “Were you a witness? There were workers who were put into a study room and locked in.”

No. Fuck. Blood from you and those three attackers. But no corpses? Hours had passed since you fainted and woke up. What did Maxine– “Can I get your name and contact information?” The man gets closer to you, showing his smiling face. He feels genuine. But the circumstances just feel off. And that tingle. You glance down to the coat he’s wearing. You feel an urge to rip back his collar… And bite him? Part of your mind finds that odd. Another part likes it.

(You’re currently at Hunger 1)

>1. Let him interview you.
>2. Brush him off and keep walking.
>3. Go for his neck.
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>>5242944
>2. Brush him off and keep walking.
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>>5242956
>2. Brush him off and keep walking.
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>>5242944
>"I'm sorry, who are you again?"
>If he isn't some sort of cop that happens to be off duty or some sort of reporter from a reputable outlet then just brush him off and keep walking
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>>5242944
>1. Let him interview you.
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>>5242944
>2. Brush him off and keep walking.
maybe tell him you asked about corpses because he mentioned blood and cops to seem less like a witness. You just made an assumption based off his account.
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>>5242985
support
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>>5242944
>>5242976
>2. Brush him off

“No, not a witness.” You lie, trying to keep your neutral air. As best you can beside a highway at 2 AM by flashlight. “Who are you anyway?”

“Um, Randy from Campus News.” Ahh yes, Campus News. One of the other places you tried to get a job with. Hell, they wouldn’t even accept you as an intern while you were still in classes. How did Randy here–no. You shake off that train of thought.

“Well I ain’t here to get interviewed, Randy. Have a good night.” You steel yourself, imagining he’s a salesmen at the makeup kiosk in the mall. The annoying guys you just had to steel yourself against and walk away from. Not hearing anything behind you, you continue your walk to campus. The highway next to you becomes populated with cars again, and you welcome the traffic noise.

Your mind races, thinking back to the scuffle in the library. Falling into… Something. The abyss? Then getting stabbed and waking up strapped under Maxine. Your parents are going to kill you for being out so late. Odd that they haven’t tried calling you. Something she must have done with your phone. You make a mental note to take it to the store tomorrow after work.

The rest of the walk to campus is tense but uneventful. Crossing another intersection, finally hitting some sidewalks. Sure enough as you approach campus, you see blue lights close to the library. You begin walking toward it, veering away to the nearby parking deck. Getting your car keys from your satchel, you grip your keys tightly, going up the sketchy concrete stairwell. Up and up until…

Maxine stands next to your car, arms crossed beneath her chest. You immediately get on the defensive. “How the fuck?”

She frowns mockingly at you. “I get around.” She tilts her head to a nearby car, parking lights on and a shadow in the driver’s seat. “What I’ve given you isn’t low blood pressure. Your entire life is different now.” Before you can speak, she takes out a torch and a lighter. “Kindred are weak to fire. We all fear it.” She clutches the lighter tightly, grimaces, then lights it.
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>>5243277
The fire blazes on the torch, flickering in the slight wind. You’re safely a few feet away, but you find yourself stepping back. You never feared fire like this before… “Fire and the sun, Nena. If you go to bed at your house, you will not wake up while the sun is out. Your parents will go into your room, pull back your heat blocking curtains and turn you into ash.” You ignore the fact that she knows what kind of curtains you have. You notice she’s holding the torch out at the very end of the grip and she’s shaking.

Maxine drops it to the ground, steps back. “What can I do to earn your trust, Nena?”

“By not following me around is a great start.” You begin to walk past her. As you pass, you hear a slick sound and then a grunt from Maxine. You turn and see she drawn her own blood with a dagger. She holds out her bloody palm to you, letting the red liquid drip onto the parking deck. You watch it simmer, sizzle and smoke, the blood eating away at the stone. Maxine holds up her hand, showing you the gash. Your eyes widen as the wound closes itself instantly.

You blink, trying to come up with something. Anything rational. Anything better than her blood ate away at concrete.

>1. Get to your car and drive home.
>2. Question her.
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>>5243279
>2. Question her.

All right, look. We don't have a pulse, there has to be something going on here.
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>>5243279
>1. Get to your car and drive home.
Go to sleep. Everything is just a bad dream. It'll all be fine when we wake up.
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>>5243279
>2. Question her.

Well, she clearly stated that we are a vampire, we feel no pulse on us, we have no breath dampening our fingers, our phone isn't working. While we can deny things and just try and deal with this the next day we just saw something supernatural with our own two eyes.

Lets get our introduction to the WoD over with, we don't have to like what she did to us or reconcile how fast things went wrong for us tonight, but lets not drag this out.
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>>5243279
>2. Question her.

At some point we're either hallucinating, dreaming, in a coma or this is actually happening. We've well enough reached that point
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>>5243279
>Question her

This is supernatural shit. We want answers now.
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>>5241966
>Is that actually true nowadays?
As I understand, yeah. There is or was, pre-pandemic a surprisingly large amount of people wanting to be librarians, due to the supposed easiness of it. Accordingly, libraries became pickier about who they hired; after all, why wouldn't you take the best you can when you have the option?

>>5242109
>Sadly most quests die early on due to lack of participants or IRL stuff.
Ehh. It's a chicken and egg problem. anons are flighty about trying new quests because of the high number of them that die within a thread or two due to QMs flaking. The makes threads quieter, making QMs more likely to flake.

>>5242723
>“Because I need you, Nena King. Our society, the Camarilla, is in a rough patch. They need blood sorceresses like us.”
So you needed something and decided to, without permission, request, or offer, turn us into this? Even if we believed you, why would we want anything to do with you?

>>5243279
>1. Get to your car and drive home.
Even if she is what she claims, by her own words shes' incredibly self-serving. And we've got enough controlling women in our life.
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>>5243279
>>1. Get to your car and drive home.
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>>5243279
>>2. Question her.