New Garou Gifts (Werewolf: The Apocalypse)

Unique Garou gifts:

These gifts are hardly unique to the characters presented in the Working Stiffs pack they are just not very common. feel free to use them if you find a use for them.

Vast Indifference  
Cost n/a Roll n/a Bone Gnawer gift level 2

Taught by concrete elementals, this gift allows the Bone Gnawer to add his full gnosis score to his willpower for the purposes of resisting emotional manipulations.(such as Presence.) and half of his gnosis for the purposes of resisting direct mental control (Like Dominate) Note that this gift does not protect the Garou on the instinctual level so gifts like Roll over and Staredown might still work but mind magick and many Galliard gifts will probably be negated. Often used by Rosalie to turn aside the annoyance of Vampires who come into her store and feel like they can act as they please.

Work like Mad
Cost 1 rage, BG gift 1

Taught by rage spirits, this enables a Garou to channel some of his rage into a repetitive physical task thus cutting the time to do that task to 1/2 of its normal time. The Garou must spend one rage pt and the gift last for one scene for each point of stamina the Garou possesses. The work cannot be of a complex nature and is thus most suited to ditch-digging, dishwashing, and other heavily physical work. This gift is often used by Steam Burns Paws as a way to channel some of his rage into a useful constructive path. It also enables him to be among his human co-workers without killing them.

Goad 
Cost 1 rage Ragabash level 2 gift (Nuwisha may also have this gift, in their case, cost is 1 Gnosis)

Roll: as Taunt maneuver

Enables a Ragabash to taunt an opponent into a blinding rage like with the Taunt combat maneuver but without making any outward sign whatsoever. For each rage point that the Ragabash chooses to spend, he reduces his taunt diff by 2. Taught by coyote spirits. Used by Fries-With-That? to drive managers and fellow workers into paroxysms of lathering wall-punching fury and still look innocent.

Temporary Lucidity 
1 gnosis Theurge gift level 2 (Gurahl may also have this gift)

Taught by a spirit of Healing or a Lune, This gift enables the Theurge to bless a target with a lucidity that he does not already possess whether as the result of insanity, chemical imbalances, or drug use. (It should be noted that those affected by spirits must be handled differently) The Theurge must spend a point of Gnosis and must kiss the recipient on the forehead. This Lucidity lasts for a full turn of the moon.(by which time the target may seek more permanent help.) This gift has no effect on mental or emotional control powers of any sort but can mitigate some of their effects. Rosalie uses this gift as a way to keep the weirdo traffic in her store down.

The Fates (Any WoD/CoD game)

A step into the Twilight Zone....Southern Style
During an extremely bizarre game of Mage, I had one of the characters contacted by certain spiritual entities who were frightened by recent events and wanted to give the Characters some information. It was interesting enough that I thought Y'all might get some use out of it.

The Abode:

A large blue green trailer ( a double wide at least with concrete reinforcement.) sets up the hill from a middling sized yard. The driveway is took up with an old Chevy up on blocks waiting for the man of the house to get around to fixing it. As is typical, right around the area where this work is taking place there are patches of ground where the grass will never grow again. Strangely, the man of the house is never seen. The yard is littered with toys, a mangy yellow dog, and dog poop. Up closer to the trailer is an immaculately kept herb garden. There is a DSS dish on the roof and the property is bounded on three sides by ancient sycamore trees that reach high into the sky.

The Mailbox reads: "The Fates" in the same way that it might read "The Smiths" or " The Johnsons."

The Interior:

The House is a dazzling display of fake wood paneling and Formica and linoleum. No chairs in the house match and every piece of furniture shows the kind of wear that only children can put on it. the floor is littered with toys although one never sees a child. The only thing that makes the house livable is that there is much that is handmade. There is a latch hook rug on the floor, knitted pillows on the sofa, and doilies on every flat wood surface. The kitchen is large and brightly lit and perfectly clean. The television is always on and tuned to some talk show or soap opera.There is a large comfy chair with a nearby walker and there is an end table on one side which has sewing notions, a stack of tabloids, like the Enquirer and the Globe (heavily annotated) and a KJV Bible.(also heavily annotated.)

Carlene:

The youngest and the most energetic, Carlene can be very mercurial. By turns, she is sweet, loving, lusty, sullen, and just plain rattlesnake mean. Carlene has got a tattoo, and a pierced eyebrow, and long dishwater blonde hair. She's voluptuous in a sort of White-Trash way and she comes off like any dumb southern girl on the Jerry Springer show might. She is almost always in some stage of pregnancy. She will flirt with any decent looking male who crosses her path.

Carlene will take to anybody with a sense of humor or somebody who is less than serious. and you should be warned that no matter how dumb Carlene might appear...She is not. Underestimating her is a sure way to earn her enmity.

Lucy-Mae:

The Lady of the House. Lucy-Mae is kind of dowdy and is constantly working on some project around the place, much of the time, this involves cooking or canning preserves. Carlene is not allowed in the kitchen on pain of death and this often touches off arguments between them.

Lucy's hair is going gray and she hits the beauty parlor at least once a week. Her only bad habit is that she chain-smokes like a fiend while she goes about her tasks. Any character who ends up looking lost or at least not busy will be put to work snapping green beans or peeling carrots.

Lucy-Mae will inevitably gravitate towards the person carrying around the most pain. The surest way to upset her is to clam up when she starts talking to you. Lucy-Mae has a lot of wisdom to share on many different topics but most inevitably lead back to relationships. Any body who thinks that they are going to be able to consult the Fates in this aspect without getting a home cooked dinner first is sorely mistaken and it is Lucy-Mae who insists that the Characters display patience and good manners first. If you're told to set the table, By god you better do it.

Annabelle:

The Old lady of the House. She sits in her chair, drinks her iced tea, thumbs through her tabloids and watches the T.V. with one eye. Pets the stinky dog, Knits, and does little else. Annabelle is very old and gray and has that old people smell to her. She is constantly chuckling to herself as if over some private joke. She only has the inclination to talk to those who talk seriously and even then she's awful elliptical. Annabelle never gets mad at people in the house because she is beyond all that. the only time that a character will see her wrath is if they have incurred the wrath of the other two women. it is at this point that Annabelle stands up, without her walker, and will look the character in the eye and tell them to leave. The character will get the unmistakable idea that to push any further is to invite some ineffable cataclysm. (And frankly, it is. Do YOU want all three aspects of Fate pissed off at you?)

Dinner:

Green beans, mashed potatoes, three bean salad, fried chicken, salt water cornbread, Vegetarians will be looked at as if they are some kind of freaks. Dinner also features an inevitable argument between Carlene and Lucy-Mae.(The topic is not important.) The argument is a test of sorts, Characters who stay out of it or who make it worse will have difficulties later on. Those who try to heal the breach between the two women will earn Fate's good impression. The fight usually ends with Carlene screaming "YOU JUST DON'T UNDERSTAND ME!" at Lucy-Mae and stalking off into her room, slamming the door behind her. The players have exactly one hour to try to talk Lucy-Mae down and to appeal to Carlene to come out of her room. If they do not do this, Carlene will emerge from her room dressed as if she's going out to some bar and will slam out the front door not to be seen again.

The Ritual:

After Dinner, at some point, Annabelle will say, "Well...Let's get down to brass tacks. You headed all this way for a purpose didn't you?" The Characters will be lead out to the backyard which is strewn with the inevitable toys and has a large inflatable wading pool in the center. They will be offered a choice; either to see what destiny would have them see. or to ask 3 questions and see what is shown in answer.

Each fate must stir the wading pool with a sycamore stick. If Carlene is not present for whatever reason, the vision will be incomplete or the characters will only be able to ask 2 questions.

If you are exceptionally cruel, like myself, Have the dog jump into the wading pool at some inopportune moment only to get yelled at by everyone and then run off into the trees. The dog will be the ending of whatever visions there are to be had. If asked, Lucy-Mae will mutter about having to cleanse the pool for the full turn of a moon, Damnit.

Why:

Occasionally, the fates choose to manifest in many different ways. This is but one aspect of them, why do they change from face to face? One could make a case that it reflects the basic changeable nature of Woman who the Fates are symbolic of. but the truth is...it is really only for their private amusement. Fate enjoys testing those who would know it's secrets and this is but one of its ways. 

Los Colibri (Setite Bloodline) (Vampire: The Masquerade)

"You look at my face and you think you know what you are seeing. But you don'. Not really. People make such assumptions about us. They rarely live to regret it gringo. I will tell you true. I don' know nothin about no dark god under the sands. I don' know nothin about no Caribbean. I don' serve Set and I never met no Legba.

If you still want to make trouble with me over stuff that I don' know anythin about then let's get it on cabron."

A long time ago there was a priestess gone mad. She fled the embrace of her dark God/Lover and walked the earth seeking sanctuary from his vengeance and hatred. To give her succor in those dark nights she made childer and sent them about the earth making false cults and diverting the attentions of her sire.

The Roman cult of Dionin was one, Los Colibri was another.

Kemintiri came to the Aztec peoples and secreted herself there. She lived fat on their sacrifices and made childer. She told many of them that they had become like the shapechangers or the curanderos. She did not tell them that they no longer lived but told them that they were a fusion of snake and man.

They had no reason not to believe this. Their dark mother was clever and silent when necessary. Were they not cold blooded like the snake? Did they not have to hide from the sun like the serpents do? Did they not feed off of the unwary? Did they not have fierce tempers like the werebeasts?

The werebeasts were less than helpful of course. Other kindred who could set them straight were scarce until the conquistadors came, and by this time their dark mother was long gone.

Los Colibri were a proud people and angry. They often cursed the names of others of their kind that had forever soiled their name, among the only ones who knew their true nature. Setites and Serpents of the Light who cross their paths meet with horrible doom if they aren't careful.

Nickname: Rattlers, or simply Colibri

Sect: Since much of this bloodline hails from areas that are heavily and solidly sabbat it is no surprise that most of them belong to the sabbat than anything. There some Camarilla Colibri but they are few and far between and few are seen outside heavily Hispanic areas where they feel comfortable. If a Camarilla and Sabbat Colibri meet though they often pass pleasantries, talk of old family, and then go their separate ways without violence. the early nights of their existence set the tone for how they would behave with one another.

Appearance: Los Colibri are almost always Hispanic. Males are far more common but the females are all seasoned and blooded warriors. Tattoos are very common and extremely varied.

Haven: Unlike more cosmopolitan clans and their own progenitor bloodline, Colibri rarely keep elaborate havens with ass-loads of presence-struck ghouls. Colibri havens tend to be hole in the wall affairs which are remote and hard to access if you can't assume snake form. Many still simply burrow into the dust wherever they bed down for the day. Those that don't are looked down upon.

Background: Colibri choose those who are hardened by life. Pale shaking Catholics will never be chosen but angry Santeria practitioners and prisoners and gangbangers will be looked at to see if they also possess any native intelligence. Penitentiaries in Colibri parlance are referred to as "Cradles"

Character Creation: Colibri tend to go heavily physical. Colibri life is as hard as the life of any Nomad pack. and they tend to lean on their physical side. As they get older, some get brought in by the elders of the bloodline to learn more esoteric arts (Santeria flavored necromancy and thaumaturgy...a legacy from Kemintiri)

Bloodline Disciplines: Serpentis, Obfuscate, Celerity

Weakness: Since the Colibri were never tortured with the same rites that most Setites and Serpents were embraced with, Colibri do not suffer the same way that other Setites do in the light. Some even flaunt this resistance and use it to tactical advantage. However, Since most of the elders were dominated into believing they were werebeasts, some have internalized this rage over the years and passed it on to their offspring. As such, Colibri are extremely excitable in the same way that Brujah are. and suffer those same penalties.

Organization: Younger Colibri look up to the elders. you don't get to be that old and potent without being tough and smart. Many aspire to be that way themselves. If an elder takes an interest in a younger Colibri, this Colibri begins schooling in Occult esoterica. if they show a talent for it, then the elder will continue to advise them. if not, then they are usually abandoned.

Among themselves, Colibri tend to be very informal and as easygoing as they can manage. This is mainly because they live lives that are fairly short and filled with violence. This tends to lead to extremely low bullshit tolerance. Even elders who go popping off can expect to get beaten on by groups of the youngers.

Those of the Sabbat tend to follow a path that is fairly close to that of the Path of the Warrior. This Path is very popular among the young and old alike.

Lessons in Leadership (Vampire: The Masquerade)

Violet liked to work in semi-darkness. it gave her office an air of mystique and also gave her the added bonus of not having to clean it that often. She sat ensconced at her desk looking over the papers that her business manager had brought her to sign.

Violet was never one to sign papers without knowing exactly what each one was and so she sat here on most weekday nights and kept an eye on her business empire. The Intercom buzzed.
" Yes, Holly?"
"You have a visitor."
"Petitioning hours are past Holly. It had better be an emergency."
"It's not an emergency mistress. It's Sebastian."
"Ah."
"He swears that you sent for him mistress. I told him that you didn't like to be disturbed..." Real fear there in her voice. Good, she's learning.
" It's quite all right Holly...Sebastian is correct. Send him up."

Violet steepled her delicate fingers and prepared herself. Jousting with Sebastian was never the same way twice. And while he was crude and inelegant, he was not stupid.
The door to her office opened and the music from the club above oozed into her sanctum.
Sebastian stood there deliberately not shutting the door because he knew it irked her.

Sebastian was just over six feet tall and was built very well. He had an amazingly vain head of long straight black hair that cascaded down his back. He was slumming tonight apparently because he had used vicissitude to cover himself with tattoos and was wearing his favorite leather pants, his engineer boots, and a collection of gold jewelry that Violet supposed he thought was a good substitute for a shirt. Violet thought he resembled nothing so much as a rooster. He stood in the doorway and silently provoked her to make the first move.
" Come in and shut the damned door behind you."
" I live to serve... my mistress." He shut the door with mock delicacy and flopped onto the black leather couch with a cat's artful abandon. He stretches out his sinewy body with deliberate languor. Once, thought Violet, I would have given much to slake my lusts in that tawny flesh of his...It is good that I am beyond such things now.

"You summoned me?"
"Yes, I have news. You remember Ricard Velasquez?"
a slight tightening at Sebastian's eyes. " Yes...what of him."
"He's dead."
"Well, then I shall have to sing Te Deum at his mass. You'll pardon me if I'm not overly crushed. Who slew him so that I might thank them."
"The reports are sketchy, I've heard both that he was killed by Lupines and Setites."
"Are you sure the Bastardo hasn't merely faked it."
"Very. I called Barbara Dowd."
"Your Malkavian seer."
"Precisely. Ricard is definitely dead. Miss Edna has also confirmed this from her grapevine."
" So what do you want from me Violeta? Eh? You never do anything without at least six reasons for it. it's obvious that you didn't invite me up here for polite chit-chat."

Violet's eyes flicked up and caught Sebastian's and held them for a long moment before a slow smile crept across her face at his discomfiture. Sebastian knew from hard experience that she could and would dominate him and that she could also stare at him without blinking for hours at a time...which was almost as bad.
" I am in a position to appoint a new bishop."
"Surely the packs have fielded a candidate of their own. That is our way."
"They have...several in fact. But not one of them has the necessary strength to hold the position...either from the Setites or from Tyrell Joffrey. He is pushing me again. He has always coveted that territory, swears that it belongs to his Archbishopric by historical right. And now pushes for it under the idea that If I can't control the Setites, I shouldn't be in the area. I can't afford to appear weak. Not now...not ever."
"So what do you need from me?"
" I need you take the bishopric of Harlem. I need you to be my strong red hand...as you have always been."
"The locals won't support me. I'll have to fight them every step of the way."
" I'll support you...And besides, if it were too easy, you wouldn't enjoy it."

Now Sebastian's smile mirrored hers. "True my love....But why now."
Violet got up and came over to the couch. "For many reasons, You've earned it, You are ready for a more active leadership role. I need key people in good places what with this increase in both Setite and Camarilla activity and quite frankly... there is no one better suited."

" This will mean that I'll have to challenge you openly on occasion. If I don't my clan will consider me weak."
" I understand and will factor it into my plans."
" I will be away...you will only see me at Ritae."
" I know."
" I will miss you." he said, deliberately not looking at her.
" And I will miss you as well," she said simply as she slipped her tiny hands behind his neck and moved in close. " We've been together for a long time."

Their eyes met and locked a second time and then conscious control fled. There was a few fumbling moment as his fingers struggled with her buttons but by this time even her normally cold blood had heated. One knee in between his two legs and one foot on the ground he sank his fangs into the spot she liked just under her left breast and she arched her back in pleasure and pain. It took all of her discipline not to scratch him...then, oh so slowly, she arched herself forward as a warm heat arose in her. moved slightly to one side and sank her own fangs into his shoulder. their circuit complete, the building hunger tore through them both as they struggled for every last succulent moment of ecstasy. Bites and clawing were exchanged and even the couch took damage. Finally, a red heat blinded Violet and she shuddered into the vampiric orgasm. He did the same.

Some time passed. From the beginning, there had always been a time of quiet afterward. Violet once reflected that this was because after sharing one another so completely, it was hard to immediately go back to lying and manipulating one another.

Oh well, she thought, The needs must when the Devil drives."There is a condition."
Sebastian's face tightened and Violet almost felt a moment of remorse for him and the moment spoiled...almost.
" You have but to name it...Archbishop."
He wouldn't look at her. and busied himself with licking his wounds and reshaping his torn flesh. Again, she almost relented.She was beginning to hate her own bonds to him and his to her. They made her weak. They had grown closer than a Vinculum should allow. It wasn't natural.

Abruptly she stood and crossed back around to the desk."Since you will not be here and since I have grown used to having a Lasombra around for things involving... aggression...I want you to sire a childer and send him to me for my use."
"Nothing could be simpler...Archbishop" he rumbled.
"Oh, and one more thing... I want him to be smarter than you."
Sebastian became very still. "What?"
" I don't want to have to put down paper in case he decides to shit on the rug. I want him to be smart. smarter than you... So I don't have to waste any time house training him. Like I had to do with you."

"YOU DARE!" Sebastian had leaped to his feet and had already balled his hand into fists. but he had already forgotten not to look in her eyes.


"Silence." she said, and his mouth stopped producing sound.
" This serves two purposes you macho fool. It will give me the necessary tool that I need, and It will allow you to have a spy within my group that I don't have to spend time ferreting out. I'm simply not interested in massaging your ego, I've already done that once tonight... Find one for me. and he had better be smart. Now get from my sight, you disgust me."

Sebastian's eyes spoke volumes of a reckoning to come and Violet met them unflinchingly. Each gaze promised horrible death though each knew that the bonds of vinculum would not allow it. Sebastian slammed the door and Violet was once again alone with her thoughts.
Well. That went exactly as I'd planned.


*  *  *
Wallace had been on guard duty when the boss showed up. He looked pissed.

"Wallace I need to speak to you. upstairs. Now." he had simply said and he had found it hard to keep up with the man, even though Wallace was half a head taller than the boss. They entered his office and without any preamble, Wallace found himself nearly pinned to the wall by the gaze of the shorter man.
"Wallace I understand you've been reading on guard duty."
Shit! " Not really mister Libertini."
"Are you calling me a liar Wallace?"
"Nnn...No sir."
" Then you have been reading on duty."
"Yes sir." he admitted, " but guard duty is mostly about listening anyway...Sir."

A hand reached out faster than he could see and hit him upside his head with a toaster...at least that's what it seemed like. His glasses flew. " AN EXCUSE! DID I HEAR AN EXCUSE!" large fuzzy black squares started dancing in Wallace Johnson's vision.

" I suppose you think you're smarter than me don't you."
" Nnn..no sir."
"Well you aren't," he said as he lifted the man off the floor one handed and bared his fangs. "And you never will be."

*  *  *
Sebastian was trying without success to repair a broken leg on his desk when Diablo reported in.
"Greetings Jefe."
" Diablo. I was just about to send for you. What's the good news."
" Well, we found out who the punk was who was skimming off of the ecstasy trade. We have him downstairs for you if you want him."
" Who was it."
"Skizzy Washington."
" Hmmm." Giving up on the desk leg he sat back. " I have some things for you to do."
"Lay it on me, Jefe."
" I have recently manipulated the Archbishop into giving me the bishopric of Harlem. So we will be vacating this house in the next few nights"
"Alright, boss man!"
" I want you to go to the Bronx and talk peace to Tyrell Joffrey for me. The usual. Unity of the Sabbat...blah blah blah, Stand against our common enemies...blah blah blah..."
"What?"
"It's very important."
" Jefe, I don't think he's gonna go for it."
" Of course he's not gonna go for it. The whole point of your trip is to make contact with a Gilbert Montrevaine."
"Isn't he Setite?"
" He's a Serpent of the Light. There is a difference. Tell him that I want him to recommend a good advisor for dealing with the Setite problem in Harlem."
" Have you gone crazy Jefe?"
"No. We'll get someone from the Serpents of the Light to help with the problem and we'll not have to waste time looking for a spy that Tyrell will plant in our house anyway."
Diablo thought about it for a moment and then the lights came on. " That's genius, Jefe."
" Yes...yes it is."
Diablo turned to go.
" Oh... one more thing. I've embraced Wallace Johnson this evening and I really don't have time for the creation rites. So we are are going to treat him like a probationary member. I want the shit kicked out of him at every opportunity and any screw up on his part is to be rewarded with pain. He will not be able to do anything right...Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Jefe." Poor cabron, I wonder what he did to piss the boss off.
"He's locked in the basement and will be howling for blood soon. after he's fed, beat him to sleep....He and Skizzy were friends weren't they?"
" Um...yeah I think so."
" Well then, Waste not, want not."

*  *  *
His name in the pack was Pigshit. He was beaten, tortured, and generally humiliated until he had learned enough to take action against his pack mates to get them to leave him alone. His vinculum kept him from killing them or hurting them over much but he learned that there were ways to enforce your will. His sire taught him much without realizing it and his packmates were a source of information as well. He learned. quickly and well and never made the same mistake twice. He became hard and cold inside and suffered as few other vampires have been made to suffer.

*  *  *
" I have a present for you. His name is Wallace."
"Come ahead."

Violet surveyed the large black man as if looking over a statue that was somehow profound. She spent a very long time looking in his eyes. even though he tried to avoid her gaze. He'd already learned about that. After a long moment, she turned to His master and said, "Thank you, Sebastian, that will be all."

The master grinned a grin that said "I'll be seeing you around, punk." and left without another word.

Wallace was very nervous in the presence of the Archbishop. Mr. Libertini had been illustrative in his description of what the diminutive woman could do to him. Wallace hoped that he could keep from screwing up.
The woman sat back in her chair and regarded him again, slowly, steadily. and then after a long moment said "Perfect."
Wallace's confusion must have shown on his face.
" You really are smarter than he is...Yes...Yes...I think you are, I can see it in your eyes."
" I'm sorry?"
" No...I think I'm the one who must apologize to you."
Wallace was still baffled.
" I have a need for a chief of personal security. Up until a month ago, Sebastian was it.
I decided that he should be moved into a leadership role that would essentially make him a target. although he probably doesn't realize it yet. And in asking for one of his Childer I made the comment that I wanted someone smarter than himself for the job. I fear he took it ill. And I can see that he took it out on you...I apologize....And I shall rectify it this moment." She turned to her intercom, "Donald."
" Yes, Mistress."
" Donald, I have in my office a Wallace Johnson, He is my new chief of Personal security. Find him a set of quarters down here close to mine and when he is settled in give him the tour. When he is ready, I want you to begin tutoring him in Thaumaturgy."
Wallace could hardly believe his ears. blood roared in his system as he tried to sort it all out.
"Yes, Mistress."

" Why?" he croaked, voice thick with emotion.
Violet rose slowly and crossed around to the front of her desk and look up into the face of man.
" It is my fault that Sebastian caused you pain. He did so because I sought to hurt him the way that he has hurt me so many times in the past...with his words. But I want you to understand that although you are mine to command...that you are also a very valued member of my organization. You have to feel that way. I need you to know that you are my good right hand. I need your strength...and I need your mind. but most importantly I need your heart." the small woman with the dark eyes had placed her tiny hand on his chest and for the first time in recent memory, Wallace allowed himself a glimmer of hope.
" I will do all I can Mistress. I will try not to let you down."
" That's all I ask...go upstairs and find Donald. Feed. Drink in the sounds. I imagine that Sebastian has given you little chance to sample the true freedom to be a Vampire."
" That is true."
"I thought as much. Go partake of the feast of immortality. we'll talk again tomorrow night...at length." she said, smiling a promise.
"Thank you, mistress."
He left soundlessly.Violet was once again alone with her thoughts.

Well. That went exactly as I'd planned.

The Factory (Mage: The Ascension)

The Factory (an Homage)

The stranger leaned heavily on his gold-handled walking stick. "What's the strongest thing you have?"

Graves looked up from cleaning the glass. " I'm sorry sir...Are you a member?"
The youngish stranger looked into the middle distance for a moment, his sea blue eyes unfocused and then he put his hand to his forehead. " Yes...I'm sorry...I've been away from the club for a long time..." He smiled a sad smile " I'm afraid that long trips into the deep umbra can really toss one's sense of time."

Graves looked unconvinced. " If you say so, sir. What will you have?"
The stranger smiled again, and with care, lowered himself to the barstool. "I'll have a scotch... to start."
" Right you are sir." Graves built the man a Glenlivet scotch.
The stranger peered around the place as if re-familiarizing himself with it. The place hadn't changed much, the same felt green tabletops, the same burnished oak bar. the flagstone fireplace, the overstuffed furniture....the overstuffed members...
Graves had returned. "Your drink... sir ?"
"Oh I'm sorry, I've been a right prat haven't I?" He extended his hand. " My name is Charles Tubb."
"Alexei Graves."
Charles started. " Are you by any chance related to Maximillian Graves."
" He's my father."
" I thought I recognized a resemblance. Quite a mage in his day wasn't he?"

" Aye. At least I like to think so."
" Following in his footsteps?"
" My family has served the Order of Hermes with distinction for several generations. And I hope to do so as well."
" Serving drinks?"
Alexei leaned in closer."Well, sir. It's either this or sentinel duty. It enables me to meet some of the elder members and learn a few things..."
"Ah."

"Also...And don't tell anyone this...But I rather like it. It's interesting and it relaxes me."
Charles smiled the first smile that didn't seem bittersweet and Alexei was struck by how blue his eyes were. He drank his Glenlivet. "It is important to do what you love, and strong is the man who can admit it. May I have another?"
"As you wish sir."
A companionable silence descended as Alexei built it and Charles dispatched it.
"So...you mentioned a trip into the deep umbra."
" Pumping me for information, brother Alexei ?"He said with a mischievous wink.
"Merely curious."
" Quite all right. It was a long trip and I saw a lot of really interesting things. It would be crass of me to keep such news to myself. I visited a great spherical library wherein I read a book containing the 9 names of God, I had tea with a retired Indian goddess, and I sojourned aboard the Mage's Pride and battled Nephandi on the frontiers."
"Sounds exciting."
"Well it's like traveling anywhere, isn't it? The food is bizarre, the people are strange and suspicious and the only real adventure is finding the bloody water closet."
"Well, when you put it like that. Why go?"
"Because ignorance is never an excuse and there are rewards of all types ...and there are friends to be met everywhere."
"Oh."
"Besides, I was looking for something specific..."
"Oh. I take it you didn't find it."
" No, I found it all right. It just wasn't what I thought it was."
Alexei couldn't help but be intrigued. "What did you find?"
" I found the Lost Factory of Wonka."


The steady mutter of the members of the Archimedes club rumbled to a stop.
" I'm sorry Mister Tubb, I must have heard you incorrectly...did you say you found Willy Wonka's Factory?"
"Even so." He dispatched another scotch.
"I was under the impression that it didn't exist, that it was a story."
"It is." said a bullish older man from the comfort of one of the leather chairs near the fire. "It is just that. A story."
Charles Tubb looked at the man for a long careful moment. " Meaning no disrespect sir, If it is a story, it is palpably true."
The older man's eyes narrowed."What I mean to say, young man, is that the Factory is nothing but a myth."
" And yet, at the center of every myth there is a kernel of truth. One cannot be a mage and not know that."
"Sir, You are either calling me a liar or an ignoramus. I'll accept no such impertinence from one of your age."
"Sir..."
"Lord Smethwick." Alexei supplied.
Charles flashed him a thankful smile, "Lord Smethwick, I mean no disrespect and any insult that you imagine that I have done you is just that...Imaginary. As imaginary as you supposed my story must be. I haven't even told it and yet you insist that I am the liar....I mean no offense and I will forthwith drop the subject. If no one wishes to hear my tale, then I will not tell it."
Alexei looked up. " Mister Tubb, I must admit I'm curious. Tell me, if no one else."
"Glad to Alexei, Same again please..."
The older man levered himself from his seat and bellowed hoarsely," ROT AND BALDERDASH! How DARE you profane this place of learning with such arrant nonsense!"
"Smethwick please!"
"Quiet Braithwaite! Young man, I should have you thrashed for such insolence! And you as well Graves!"
Charles turned with elaborate care. " I'm sorry that you feel that way, sir. And you are certainly entitled to believe what you will...but I was there. And I know what I saw. I visited the Lost Factory of William Wonka."
Arthur Smethwick drew himself up at the soft reproach. " Well then, Where is it precisely?"
Charles smiled again. " Ah well that's the problem, isn't it. It drifts you see. I can tell you where I found it but I guarantee that it won't be there when you look for it."
" A Horizon realm that drifts? What utter Rot! "
Charles looked to Alexei. " It started out as a Horizon realm but it's taken on a life of its own."
"That does happen Smethwick..." Braithwaite offered.
" Braithwaite!...It's merely a story !"
" Smethwick, Be SILENT." Said a powerful voice near the fireplace.
" But, Alistair!"
The Elder Mage turned and pinned him with his eyes." Subside Smethwick.You are a tiresome boor, with a mind as closed as a nun's knees, and besides, you didn't know the man."
" Alistair... what are you saying?"
" What I am saying, dear Smethwick, Is that I knew William James Wonka and his father before him. It's not a pretty story nor does it end happily but it is most assuredly true. Will you also be calling me a liar?"

Charles smiled. " Sir. You seem to know the story that I don't. Will you tell it?"
Alistair regarded the young man for a long moment and then smiled in kind. " I will if you will tell us of your visit to the lost factory."
" Certainly, if this goodly barkeep will volunteer to keep me properly lubricated."
"I would be honored." said Alexei.
" Are we to tell Fairy tales around the fire now, like children at camp?"
" Sod off Smethwick or stay and keep quiet. You might learn something."

Arthur Smethwick stood and work his jaw like a beached flounder. Then he turned and looked at Braithwaite, who didn't move and then without another word stormed from the room. Alistair looked after him. " I haven't seen the old bastard that ruffled in many a day. Graves. The young gentleman's drinks are on my tab...and one for me as well."

"You said you would tell us the beginning."
"And so I shall...Do you know how the Wonka fortune was made?"
" No sir, I do not."
His father was an arms manufacturer. Sold weapons, made millions. A thoroughly disagreeable copper-plated bastard if I recall correctly. When he passed away he left the entire fortune to his only son even though they hadn't spoken for 10 years. No one was more surprised than he. He had eschewed the luxury of living with his family over principles and in fact, the last time they spoke was to argue at the grave of his mother. When William inherited the arms factory he took the entire fortune and retooled it into a candy making factory.
"Why candy?" asked Charles.
"Why not? The rumor in Magi circles was that he had a friend who was a Solificati or was one himself. But I knew the man and I can honestly say that his mission was to bring as much joy and wonder to the world as his father had brought pain, suffering, and death. He gave selflessly to charities of sorts and also to private individuals. He even sponsored scholarships. I think it was this selfless giving that nearly ruined him."
"That's right." said Braithwaite," I remember reading about this. Supposedly, the Syndicate had a candy company run by a fellow named Arthur Slugworth and they nearly put him out of business."
"Correct." said Alistair " Slugworth candy was cheaper, tasted almost as good as Wonka Candy, and gave you twice as many cavities, thus propping up the Progenitors...Sodding Bastards... Wonka shut the factory and it is widely believed that it is at this time that he became a Marauder... It was after that Golden Ticket incident that the Technocracy realized what a hold he had on the public imagination and they began to hound him relentlessly afterward. He managed to stay in business for another few years but found it simply too difficult. That's when he left and never came back...Taking the entire bloody factory with him when he left. And that is all that is really known of the factory...until today. Tell us, Mr. Tubb, of your visit.

Charles regarded the room.He held the attention of every man there. " I found it by traipsing across the high umbra. At first, I didn't recognize it. It looked so grubby and antiquated that I thought it must be abandoned or some ancient technocratic installation. But as I came closer I saw the unmistakable smokestacks and the Wonka Logo. I found that the factory is still operating after all this time. It is populated by a group of very short people who are called Oompa-Loompas who run the factory according to the master's specifications. Apparently, Wonka invited them from their realm which was very inhospitable and Wonka put them to work."
" Are they mages?"
"No. Not so far as I can tell. I asked them about how they protect themselves from Marauders and Nephandi and they just smiled and said the factory is more than capable of protecting itself."
"How large is it?"
"Small on the outside but unbelievably huge on the inside.It still looks like a grubby Manchester factory"
"What's it like."
"It's beautiful, It's wondrous...It is the most depressing place in the Tellurian."
"What?"
The smile had gone from Charles's face and Alexei saw that there was a reason for very strong drink. "When I first arrived, the Oompa-Loompas were glad to see me, answered every question I had, showed the whole of the factory with great pride. I saw things that beggar description and I saw wonders that haunt me to this day. But here is what makes me sad... It's all for nothing."
" How do you mean?"
" Alistair. that factory was meant to produce love and joy and happiness in bulk for the children of the world and they don't have it. I took two large sackfuls of candy with me when I went. The Oompa-Loompas insisted. And I found that Wonka had made strange breakthroughs in the art of confection. He created candies that can give one a taste of Wonder, or of their lost Innocence, My god man...I wasn't this YOUNG when I entered the factory. But it is cut off from the place that it was meant to give all that joy to and all the Oompa-Loompas can do is run the factory and hope that Wonka returns."
"He's not there?"
" Left decades ago, Apparently."
"Why not just go back?"
" Because, Lord Alistair Greylen, I can't find it. And I've been looking for the last four years."

And with that, Charles looked down at his glass and then hurled it into the fireplace. The room went quiet as each old Mage digested this news. Charles looked up again with bright tears in his eyes" I'm sorry. It always makes me feel this way. Unfortunately, the booze doesn't seem to be helping. I'm sorry...I fear I'm going to become poor company, so pardon me please."
Lord Greylen spoke up. " It's quite all right lad... I think I understand."
The man gathered his coat and stick and began to leave but just before he left, he reached into his pocket and laid 100 quid on the bar and laid a Wonka bar atop it. He looked into Alexei astonished eyes and said "Thank you for the whiskey and the hospitality." and left the club without another word.
The old mages of the Archimedes club sat in the firelight with their whiskey and cigars and looked after him.

* * *


The night was cold and dampish in Kensington, as per usual. Charles stood in the alley and looked at his antique pocket watch. A soft whirring sound reached his ears and his smile grew wide and genuine.
"Ahoy there."
" Hi, Grampa." He said to the youthful man.
" How'd it go?"
" Better than I had any right to expect. I know I got one, I think maybe two. maybe more."
The door slammed shut and the two young men rose into the air, catching the moonlight with their great glass Wonka-Vator.

Black Bubbles (Vampire: The Requiem)

Premise: The common cold has finally mutated enough to the point where it can infect Kindred. This, by itself, is something of a horror for Kindred more so than for humans because kindred don't heal in the way humans do and the pathogen can get out of control.  And funnily enough, the Morbus have nothing to do with it.

The Pathology:

Black bubbles are quite literally just a mutated variant of the common cold. What we refer to as the common cold is actually about a hundred different viral strains. Humans fight off colds by having immune systems which spring into action. raising one's body temperature to cook off the virus. 

But kindred don't have antibodies or metabolisms or any of that useful junk. Most virii can infect a kindred but cannot live in a dead system. And so it is with Black Bubbles. The Kindred Cold can't survive in a kindred host for more than 10 days. But the problem is, if they come into contact with another kindred with the illness, they can be infected again right away.

Black Bubbles has the following effects on kindred infected by it:

1) Every single night that a kindred is infected by Black Bubbles, he must spend an additional point of blood. This is obviated by the Coil of Blood. If the vampire has the coil of blood he must only spend an additional blood point when he must spend normally per coil of blood.  This blood is expended as "phlegm" or blood sweat.

2) This phlegm is actually dead blood, turned black.  This by itself can be a masquerade threat if not carefully hidden or controlled.

3) While afflicted with Black Bubbles, a kindred is down -2 on all challenges.

4) Symptoms can be stifled for a scene with a willpower expenditure.

Sure, it's an inconvenience, but it's hardly Malkavia, right?

The illness itself is contagious mostly via blood-born vectors. Blood sweat, sneezing, and drinking from an infected kindred or ghoul can pass the disease. Thankfully, casual contact is not enough to pass the disease. But a good hard sneeze in an Elysium can get a number of kindred at once.

Treatment Methods:

Seclusion will work to a degree. Taking some time out to stay away from other kindred and ghouls and just suffering through until the disease dies off will work. The only problem is that it will cost the kindred HALF of his or her downtime actions for the month.(Round down)

a short duration voluntary torpor will also cleanse the infection from the kindred's body but this is a costly method of treatment.

Mage spells may cleanse the kindred of infection but cannot actually create antibodies against the disease.

Werewolf blood will flatly kill the virus but will also have all the usual effects on the kindred who ingests it.

Blood Fire (Theban 3) burns the sickness out of a kindred, but sadly can only be used on the blood sorcerer. Also, blood stored in Vitae Reliquaries is cleansed of taint, (The virus cannot survive the transformative process.)

Some bloodline powers may, at the VST's discretion, affect the illness, but none of them can instill any sort of antibody protection against the virus.

Morbus can identify carriers of the disease easily, and with the power of Inflame, may cause the illness to burn itself out of the kindred at a vastly increased rate. In fact. A successful use of Inflame will burn out the illness in the space of a single night, but it will cost the kindred so affected to lose half of his current blood pool and he will be at half of his pools for all the challenges on that evening.

Morbus, of course, are completely immune to Black Bubbles, as they are immune to all of the diseases they come in contact with.

Twists and Turns:

Naturally, the Morbus will get blamed for all of this. As if they needed more crap working against them, but ironically enough, they have enough knowledge to actually make themselves quite useful to any domain who doesn't run them out on a rail first.  In addition, with some work, Cachexy can get some control over the spread of the disease in a single night.  It won't prevent re-infections from out of town sources, but it can staunch the tide of infections. Which can be good for the bloodline as a whole in the long run.

In addition, like most plagues, it strikes at the heart of a society by making social congress actively dangerous. Expect a series of closed borders, and formal courts held via conference calls, at least until things calm down some.

Ghouls are not proof against the illness, although once they've suffered through the illness, they aren't going to catch it again. The illness will run through their body in the same way it does in a kindred but will only last until the kindred blood has burned itself out of his system. Ghouls develop a series of antibodies against Black Bubbles.  One might think that this would translate into a treatment for kindred, but drinking ghoul blood doesn't affect the illness. The change to Vitae turns that blood into the perfect medium for the virus's infection. The antibodies don't stand a chance.

Research: 

Kindred will find that researching the illness itself is a bit difficult as samples taken from an infected victim die as the victim's blood turns into regular human blood in a minute after being removed from the kindred's body. And as near as anyone can tell, the virus is indistinguishable from a common cold virus.

What's really going on:

It might take some serious research, (Science with a serology or virology specialty and 30+ successes) to discover that the Kindred Cold is NOT a natural virus.  Black Bubbles is a test balloon being sent up for a kindred based bio-weapon.

The Cheiron Group is funding a number of research projects in viral and serology labs all over the country.  The work is very heavily compartmentalized and few people are aware of the whole picture for security purposes.  The virus in it's manufactured form looks like a completely natural virus but can be manufactured in an aerosol form.   Cheiron Group operatives are issued spray cans of the material and they are instructed to go around to nightclubs in their local area and treat those places.   Since the virus is designed to live longer in an unliving medium than most, it adheres easily to surfaces for days, like a regular rhinovirus.

    Black Bubbles is a test. if it works as it's supposed to, then a much stronger virus will be manufactured and weaponized.

The Erl Kings Bloodline (Vampire: The Requiem)

History:

His name was Klaus Vendredi and, as he tells it, he has cursed the heavens that saw fit to cruelly snub him. He was the only son of a wealthy nobleman who had made serious money in mining. Like many well-educated young noblemen of his age, Klaus was interested in three things: Sexual depravity, Absinthe, and Satanism. in roughly that order. He and a few like-minded cousins and hangers-on found what they thought was a deserted series of caverns in the foothills of the Bavarian Alps. They would repair to this secret place, put on robes, utter dire oaths in the service of "Satan", drink with abandon, and disport themselves with nearly anyone that was warm and had a useable orifice.  if you go in for that sort of thing. Life was good.

    But the cavern was not, as you can probably imagine, entirely deserted. An old worm watched these children and he did not like what he saw. One night, after watching them for months and finding out who they were, he stuck. Killing all of them and their party guests.

   But not Klaus. Klaus awoke to find his noble features changed and misshapen and to find an old horror living under the mountains explaining to him his role in expanding their caverns and how God himself had led him to his damnation.

This was, perhaps, a bitter pill to swallow.

Klaus waited. He waited for a whole year, learning what he could from the monster. and then, when he could stand it no more, he triggered the cavern collapse that buried him. Hopefully forever.

Making his way back to civilization, he managed to reclaim his birthright with no small difficulty and met other vampires.

It wasn't until he met the Ventrue, that he realized HOW cruel the fates had truly been to him. These were the people he belonged with. And no amount of noble bearing could erase the stain of his wretched embrace at the hands of another clan. Oh certainly they could accept him as a fellow nobleman, they just couldn't ever let him forget how he came to be in their twilight society. And it was a bitter pill that turned and twisted in his viscera, like jealousy.

But Klaus was patient, and while he was ambitious, he wasn't stupid. He waited. He bided his time. He used his abilities to ingratiate himself with several Ventrue and learned the secrets of Dominate. It never came easily, but eventually, it did come. And with Dominate came the ability to build greater and greater necropoli. Most of the largest and most elaborate being built by the hands of Klaus, his childer, and his childer's childer. They could reach out and gather people to do the work and erase the knowledge of the details of that work. Millions of Deutsch marks went missing as underground cities were hewn out of rock and stone. Books were cooked and nobody could figure out how the investigation kept ending up stymied.

But it wasn't enough. Finally, Klaus realized what he had to do. He returned to the foothills, returned to the grave of his maker, and took his heart's blood, dedicating it to the demons he had tried to summon in his youth.

This time one listened… And granted Klaus his heart's desire. That night, Klaus left the caves, never to return, went into the city and found their Ventrue prince.  He set upon the woman and drank her soul too, changing something within his blood. 

His face returned to a semblance of its former glory and he stole away from town before a hue and cry could be raised. No one recognized him.

From that night forward, Klaus stretched forth his fingers and took disgraced and disinherited nobles to his bosom, gifting them with the power to be Kings under the Earth. He used his acumen to make underground kingdoms well nigh impregnable and reaped the fat bounty of boons in the Nosferatu community. Klaus and his children spread across the globe. 

This is the story no one tells. While it's not true that Erl Kings require a Ventrue be diablerized in order to make the bloodline "Stick", most have done so in their early nights as members of the bloodline. Those crimes help to ensure the silence. But by that point, their envy and jealousy of the Ventrue are great enough that they too want to steal what they have come to think of as their birthright. Most Erl Kings claim they have no bloodline at all. At least to anyone who isn't a Nos.

Parent Clan: Nosferatu

Nickname(s): Kings. Patrons. The Purple. King Shit under the Hill (Derogatory)

Covenants: 

Considering that the founder has a fairly relaxed attitude towards Satanism and diablerie, you generally won't find too many fetching up in the Lance. Those few who have tried are slain, or have large portions of their memories excised. Crone Erl Kings have a fairly Potato-potahto attitude toward darker powers and old gods and their powers are prized among their brethren. Most of the members of the bloodline tend to lean towards the political covenants for their utility in manipulating the human populace. Most leaning Invictus, but with some few Carthians. Interestingly, tensions between the two among Erl Kings are almost non-existent. A tiny tiny number of Erl Kings have become interested in the Ordo Dracul, but often membership in that group is difficult to manage because of the sheer numbers of Mekhet. (See below) Any place where the Locust flourishes is a place where Erl Kings may also enjoy membership.

Appearance:

If there is any defining characteristic that tends to stand out about Erl Kings it is that they carry themselves with a natural hauteur and bearing that seems out of place from a Nosferatu. Sometimes, this causes a bit of friction with fellow Nosferatu. ("You think you're fucking BETTER than me?") and occasional friction from outsiders. ("It seems that the worm has forgotten his place…") This seems to happen if the Nosferatu is misshapen or of entirely normal appearance. Most Erl Kings naturally gravitate to positions of authority either within the Necropoli or within the court proper if they manage it without leaving the Undercity all that much.

Erl Kings tend to dress for utility in their usual going about, but rise occasionally to finery for major events and formal courts.

Haven: Always underground. Many Erl Kings who wish to travel to new places will take the time and effort necessary to learn to earth meld if they can, or will send ahead to family in the various necropolis around the world.

Background: 

In a world where there are few disgruntled nobles anymore, the type of person who is brought into the clan now-a-nights is usually someone with ambition and smarts but is likely to be poor or unable to have access to the things they need to succeed in life. They might not be overly gifted in the realm of social skills, or perhaps they are stigmatized by the society they live in. Whatever the reason, they find a tight family that offers the ability to belong, and the recognition that they have something special in them. This can be a heady combination for ANY Nosferatu. The bloodline has made a concerted effort over the decades to embrace people with Engineering and Geotech skills, as well as people with occult knowledge, especially Geomancy. There are a couple of the eldest who are also interested in Demonology.

Character Creation:

Usually, a character belonging to this bloodline breaks along one of three lines, Socially aspected, interested in manipulating the mortal world and creating a huge web of contacts and allies, as well as a small army of people who can work underground for various projects.  A physically aspected Erl King who does much of the heavy lifting himself and rules with his strength and his ability to get close to enemies before they can see him.  Or the occasional mentally aspected Erl King who is a student of the deep sciences and the eldritch powers that dwell therein as well. There are a few who try to master the three fields but until they've had a few decades true mastery of each path will likely elude them.  Still, most young Erl Kings know more about Geotech science and jack-leg building than most Nosferatu will ever know.

Disciplines: 

Animalism, Vigor, Dominate, Obfuscate (While any Dots of Nightmare that the character has learned stay bought, Nightmare is no longer is considered in-clan for Erl Kings.) 

Weakness: 

Erl Kings retain the weakness of their parent clan, in addition, most of them develop a mild form of agoraphobia that they never really shake. It costs an Erl King a point of willpower to venture above ground and an additional willpower point for each hour that he or she remains above ground. On top of this, auspex users may note that Erl Kings have extremely mild traces of diablerie streaks in their aura (If they score an exceptional success)  This is true even of Erl Kings who have never committed a diablerie.  Some echo of the original crime is the going theory among the Kings. If an Erl King commits a diablerie, then his aura retains the stains for 3 years instead of just one. The Kings refer to this as "The Internship" and do their best to keep their brothers and sisters hidden from prying eyes.  It's also the reason that they tend to avoid the Mekhet packed Ordo Dracul.

Organization:

Picture an extended family of wildly secretive diablerists and occult maniacs looking to quietly extend their kingly reach to every corner of the underground fastnesses of the world. That's pretty much what they are. Sure, there are points of contention in any family where nearly everyone considers themselves some kind of Alpha wolf, but they get along with one another mainly because if anyone knew what they've done, they'd be hunted to the last one…and no one else really is able to understand.  Word is, Old Klaus and his childer are trying to find a way to make a form of Gilded Cage that works underground…If that day ever comes, then it will be a very different world indeed.

Concepts: 

Old Money family ne'er do well. Former Sandhog. Sculptor. Ex-mason. Satanist.