the shadows themselves seem to be watching  him then he hears a menacing chuckle. The shadows then seem to shrink inwards for a second inwards, reeling back to reveal a man about his age who nods deeply looking him over "You have spirit, I give you that much" he smiles.

Michael took another step back as the shadows formed into a person. Things were getting even more bizarre, and none of this was making sense to him. The only thing Michael could be sure of is that whatever this guy wanted, it couldn't be good. "Hey! Are you going to tell me what you want? Or are you just going to stand there like a weirdo?"

"First Im going to kill you, that is nonnegotiable" he says casually, almost off handedly

then smiles

"what is negotiable, is if you simply rot into dust, or Arise again as a Ruler of the night."

Michael found himself speechless in the face of the man's declaration. There was no doubt in his mind that the man could make good on his word, but that wasn't going to stop Michael from getting as much information from the guy as he could. "Who are you? And what do you mean, 'ruler of the night'? Like, you're going to make me a vampire or something?"

Smiles in delight "My my my, arent we perspective." displays suddenly a pair of fangs.

"Does it interest you boy? Or would you prefer the silence of the tomb?"

(Oh did you mention a preferred clan allready am leaning Towards Mekhet)

((Mekhet is exactly what I was thinking of))

Michael took a hesitant step forward. He felt like he was about to make the biggest mistake of his life, but what choice did he have? The only other option was death, and besides, he did find the idea of eternal (un)life somewhat attractive. "Well if living really isn't on the table, I'll have to go with being a vampire."

He smiles "Im glad your so agreeable, theirs so many cases of people throwing fits, or doubting the reality of what their seeing"

Approaches

"Kneel" He says matter of factly

"It improves the odds of a clean feeding without scarring"

Michael got down on one knee and bowed his head with a grim smile on his face. "So, this isn't gonna hurt too much, will it?"

"The dieing will be quite pleasant I assure you , but the rebirth..." Shakes his head sadly " I fear that I can make no promises on that."

before Michael can answer the Vampire bites into his neck and begins to Slowly at length drink his blood bit by bit... and he was telling the truth it feels kind of sort of unclean or tainted, , but also extremely pleasant and almost sexual.


It goes on and on at length time slows to a crawl, he feels his strength fail him as the blood runs out...
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:48, Tue 11 Oct 2016.

Michael winced as the vampire bit him, but otherwise stayed still as the blood was drained from him. Gradually, his vision started to blur, then go dark, until eventually all he could see was black.

As he loses Conciousness he feels himself "Floating" Between life and death

its almost comforting and happy for an eternity, floating in blackness peacefully  and then...

He is Snatched back by an icy black hand and dragged back into his body, filled with pain and rage and fear, and most of all, hunger

(OOC: Now Kindred of Clan Mekhet, decide on your discipline spread)

He still there in the same alleyway, with his new Sire

"You about awake?" he asks curiously.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:21, Mon 17 Oct 2016.

((Auspex **, Obfuscate *))

Michael groaned as he regained consciousness, a lot of feelings rushing him all at once. He dragged himself to his feet and leaned against the alley wall, trying to sort out his feelings. Quickly, one sensation came to overpower everything else he was feeling at the moment. "Hungry."

He nods, "Feed if you wish to survive"

(OOC: So theirs no surprises, not going to try retconning Merits onto Blood Potency, had that happen WAY too much.)

"A young kindred can usualy subsist on rats, or dogs, , but their blood only gives so much substinence. eventualy you WILL need human blood"

The dig site was as quiet and still as the grave under the cold moonlight, the workers long since headed home gossiping avidly about discovering an Indian burial site and speculating as to how long their paid layoff would last while the Tribes dickered with the owners.
No, not quite still. One man moved, moved with purpose. 'Clung clung'. Metal rang as he took hammer and chisel to the seals on the sarcophagus at the bottom of the hole, and a motor purred as he winched the lid clear.

"Shit! So much for hoping for an empty grave. No, that would have been too easy." Silence fell once more, then rustling noises as the man dragged a tarp over to the hole. "Sorry Chief, but if I don't finish this shopping mall on schedule I get to explain my finances to some very humorless people from the IRS. We will find you a nice desert cave and when the Heritage boys come out tomorrow they will find an empty grave. No delays, no cost over-runs. Not like you care, you are dead, right?"

"Let's get you out here shall we... Oooh! Is that real gold? Chief, you just made my day! Let's..."
"Ow! fuck! What kind of stupid Indian Chief wears a necklace made of fucking fishooks? I'm fucking bleeding here! I... What the fuck!"

Julio woke, blood-hunger thundering in his head. There was blood, and he drank deep of it. Long moments later he regained his senses, casting the thinly mewling vessel aside and rising to his feet. Where was he? It was his grave all right, but that hill was new, and so was the scar across the earth extending to his grave. It looked like a thousand men had been digging for years. Obviously he had slept far longer than he had intended. Vague memories stirred, of waking time and time again only to find himself still trapped in unyielding stone, many of them, too many to be comfortable thinking on.

Perhaps he owed the vessel a debt, or perhaps, given the tools scattered about and the solitary nature of the vessel, perhaps not. The world would not miss one grave-robber less or more. Decision made, he bent to the vessel and finished the job. He bounded out of the hole, then stopped, frankly staring at the lights of the city. While he had slept, hundreds, nay thousands of potent mages had built a city of wonders over his head! Lights spent on nothing more than dimming the dark, and what lights! So clear, so constant, as unlike torchlight as any he had ever seen. No telling what thunderbolts they might throw, best he be cautious.

Minutes then hours passed as Julio investigated the site, marveling at the strange contrivances and gathering what seemed best to him, then he squared his shoulders and headed into the city to face this new world. Dawn was coming after all, he should seek shelter before then.

the city's confusing its road layout is different from anything you remember...

thankfully, Dawn still seems a bit off... the problem is finding shelter isnt quite as intuitive as it could be.

(OOC: unlocked your CS!)

Julio moved through the suburb, stopping occasionally to marvel at some new wonder. Thanks to his Disciplines, nobody took any particular notice of the half-naked man with the crowbar and stop-sign shield gawping at motor-cars and traffic lights. Accustomed to the random accretion of medieval cities, he found this one to be a miracle of planning and organization, in particular the wide streets. Of course, with their magical carriages, they needed them!

An overgrown garden caught his attention, and he hopped easily over the wall (spending a vitae to activate Vigor for the scene) to check it out. Yes, this would do for the moment. The hut (Hut, ha! It was a mansion, a half-dozen rooms at least, even the meanest peasant lived well here it seemed) was neglected, but it had a basement with a blockable door and he could use the heavy cloth that the graverobber had brought for his shroud to wrap himself in.

One thing to cross off his list, and now to locate his own kind. He had seen what looked like a Lord's mansion (it's a museum) on a hill, and he set off for there.

12:45, Today: Julio rolled 2 successes using 6d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 1,2,2,10(+4),10(+3),2.  Perception. (Wits + Composure to search)

12:45, Today: Julio rolled 2 successes using 3d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 3,8,8.  Assess. (Wits + survival to assess suitability).
This message was last edited by the player at 14:27, Wed 24 May 2017.

I could use some idea of who is available to meet.

(OOC!!! So sorry Took some time trying to think on the question then...)

the local kindred

theirs the prince a Ventrue who while ruthless does have a strong sense of decorum.

The Sanctum has a moderate presence in town. their leader's a mekhet who's quite informed...

Yeah, that happens.
Any active players to meet? I can't find anyone on the Cast page, but I have been known to be wrong.

In reply to Julio (msg # 378):

I have been in a muck for the past 7 or so months so I havent been active... I am going to be trying to work into this now though so hopefully you will have a friend to coop with instead of flying solo.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:18, Thu 06 July 2017.

Well, good stuff. Give me a bump when you are ready and we can meet up.

In reply to Julio (msg # 380):

My core is done, I am just divvying out merits, powers, and selecting gear now.

Shinoskay could often be informed someone wanted to talk to him by going into a lobby for an apartment complex near downtime, pretty much any apartment complex, and asking the lobby to send notice to Fitz for maintenance and to leave a means for been contacted.

once you are contacted, you would be informed to meet at a parking garage on the second floor.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:06, Thu 06 July 2017.

Theirs a slum in town, that you've heard mixed reports from, one its being cleaned up, of drugs, and violence.

two, something sinister is at work there...

Drawn by lights, Julio wandered into an open shop. At last, something that made sense! It was a Fugger shop (read:pawnshop). Staying a moment out of pure resistance to all this new, he made two discoveries. First, that the colored papers that he had taken from the grave-robber simply because they were well, paper and thus more valuable than parchment or even vellum, were the monies of this polis. Odd, but it worked, paper was pricey. He didn't see how you wrote on it if it came to that, but understanding would come with time. Second, material, and thus clothing, were very cheap here. Perhaps...

Going through the shop, he found harness, shoddily made but of some superbly light metal (it is cosplay lorica segmentata of aluminum, treat as hard leathers but also covers the legs), along with gladius and scutum for it. He would feel much better properly armed and armored, and he dragged it over to the sales counter (they had two, one for purchase and one for sales, a clever innovation) to haggle with the keep.

He tried Latin (surely a Fugger would speak Latin), he tried Genoese, he tried French, he tried Araby, he tried Blackfoot, he even tried the German dialects. None availed him. "Why can't you people speak a civilised tongue" burst out of him in frustration.
"Because very few people speak Latin any more" came the reply from a young woman waiting at the line for the sour-faced harridan at the purchases counter.
She spoke like a monk, all declined tenses, but he could understand her. Julio eyed her, reminding himself that showing your ankles here did not seem to mean streetwalker. Indeed, many showed more, a lot more. This was probably a respectable woman. "Yet you do, matron. You are here to sell?"
A blush answered him, and he gave a decisive nod. "Good. May I hire your services as translator?"

She stared at him a moment in return, then shrugged agreement. "Why not?"
"Fine come haggle for me then." Julio stepped back to make room for her, handing her the sheaf of monies. "Oh, for formality's sake, take first for yourself what is fair."
"You would trust me to do so?"
He shrugged in turn. "I either trust you or I do not. A false translation will harm me a lot more than some coin."

Dramatis personae:
Alice- Alice Carpenter is a humanities student. She is not sure what to make of Julio, but it pays better than 'Would you like fries with that?'.
She provides the chance to learn American (there will be Xp in this game eventually, right?) and I am thinking of developing her as a Touchstone.

"Look there" Alice hissed, pointing down the alley.
"I see them" Julio replied. He knew what she was referring to of course, his senses were after much better than hers at night. In the alley off to their left, a group of (from their garish hair and studded clothing) young nobles had cornered a (from the brand on her tunic) kitchen slave and were knocking her around prior to using her. Not all that unusual.
"Well? Do something!"
He didn't get it. It wasn't like the slave was his slave, but it would be the height of foolishness to hire a local guide then ignore her advice. "Stay here" he told her, and steel rasped as Julio drew sword the first time in his new life.

Two of the long gliding strides that were the mark of his house brought him up to them and he went in on the heels of his warcry "Genoa! Genoa!"
One reeled back spitting teeth as the scutum smashed into his face and another scrabbled wailing at an arm suddenly gone limp and red as the gladius licked sideways into the tendons at the elbow, but at this point his reflexes failed him. People pointing at you were just not a threat (well unless they were commanding archers and even then his response would have been to turtle up) and thunderbolts smote at him. Once, twice, three times.

Blinking away after-images, Julio took stock. There was a hole in his shield, and another in his chest, but nothing actually broken. Obviously only an apprentice mage, the last two thunderbolts had missed wholly as far as he could tell and the first done little of effect, but even an apprentice mage was a serious threat and Julio stepped in, gladius licking for the mages throat. That broke them, and they ran, leaving their frinds behind. Julio stepped forward, feasting on the Vitae jetting from the mages neck under guise of lowering him to the ground. People took it badly when you feasted on your enemies life-blood, a completely irrational prejudice in his opinion. The man was just as dead either way.

Hmm, from the smell the thunderbolts actually came from some sort of alchemical Device, which explained a lot about that battle. Like a child with his first sword.

Swiftly looting the defeated (a magical knife that hid or extended itself at the touch of a button, another nearly large enough to count as a sword, the thunder-thrower and of course their purses), he picked the slave up bodily, carrying her over to Alice. Setting the slave down in the light (she would be fine once the bruises healed), he looked over at Alice. "We should leave. I have no desire to spend the rest of the day answering questions in the Vigil's office or to make it easy for their families to seek revenge."

One times 'noticeable' post. Strong demonstration of Vigor (passive only, Julio didn't bother hauling out the active stuff for this lot but still...), feeding (it isn't dark to other vamps), and complete ignorance of firearms. If this doesn't bring vamps out of the woodwork, nothing will.
I used the 'gangbanger' template for the punks. I thought about including the rolls, but it is a wall of orange and doesn't actually make any difference. With his 17d (2 auto) vs their Def 2 and their 6d/4d (1 auto) vs his Def 14, this was only ever going to go one way. Only the two with guns were actually a threat to him and that only from ignorance.
He does get a beat for his 'anachronism' Persistent Condition.