Abe rolled down the window promptly.  When Carson commented on his text and passengers, he responded, "I'm early because I had supervised help driving.  Unfortunately, we were so early that we ended up caught in a crossfire between unusual beings at a truck stop a few hours east of here... crossfire being entirely metaphorical as it was mostly claws and teeth going around.  When we all woke up, we were different.  I expect that two of the passengers are rather like you would be if you walked about 15' in that direction."  He pointed back toward the open sunlight.  "Sparrow said that we'd need another vampire to help them get back on their feet, and when I asked if I should ask you for that help she said I could... perhaps I leaped to a wrong conclusion?"

When directed in, he pulled the truck into the garage.

Underground was a half-filled garage, with a limo, a few SUVs, and a couple of sports cars. All of them with heavily tinted windows, just like the 6x6. In the rearview mirror, you noted Carson putting something in his ear. Something with a trailing wire leading inside his jacket.  Then he talked to himself while pointing at one of the parking spaces. And then he made a phone call.

After you had parked, six more individuals in black suits joined the group. One of them was female. They were all in their 20s, all of them fit and capable. Two men each brought Dean and Jack upstairs as Carson led the way and the two suits with nothing else to do were last in the procession. Despite there being an elevator, Carson took the stairs.

On the first floor, he led you out into the club. There was a stage, a large dance floor, tables with chairs, and a bar. Everything you expected the rich and famous wanted in a night out and more. The second floor hugged the walls, but most places it allowed for the club to have a very high ceiling.

"What is this," Carson asked Sparrow.

"It is exactly what it appears to be," Sparrow replied.

"And you have confirmed that?"

"Not precisely. They were at Jade Dragon. I saw three of them die. It's definitely plausible."

"And what about the fourth?"

"Let's talk about that with the Baron shall we."

Carson nodded.

[Feel free to talk to each other, Sparrow, Carson, or any of the other MIBs.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:04, Mon 04 Nov 2019.

Even under the power of two fit bearers, Dean's unconscious form made for an awkward burden.

His meaty arms and legs hung towards the floor, while his big shaven head bounced slightly with every shuffling step. In addition his light weight clothing rode up here and there even before they had to navigate the staircase.

He was dead weight, no pun intended. But for how much longer who could say?
This message was last edited by the player at 16:00, Mon 04 Nov 2019.

Abe looked back and forth between Carson and Sparrow.  "So, it sounds like you guys were expecting a group like us at some point?  But it involved all of us dying?  Sparrow, did you kill me?"  Clearly it was at least somewhat for his own good if she did, so he wasn't angry... but was rather confused at what he was hearing.

"Not really," Carson said. "You made a claim of what you are and Sparrow confirmed that it was plausible."

"I didn't kill you," Sparrow said. "You only needed to be unlocked to open you to your true potential. I broke the leash that bound you and your body didn't take that very well. So you collapsed."
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 15:53, Mon 04 Nov 2019.

Maybe 20 minutes later, an elegant African American male sauntered down the stairs and headed towards you. He wore a dark red suit, a blue shirt, and a striped red tie. He was bald and had an Obi-Wan Kenobi beard.

As he approached, Carson told you that that was the Baron.

He remained standing and didn't invite you to sit.

"Is it true," he asked looking at Carson

"As far as I can tell, it appears so," Carson said.

"And you vouch for them?" He looked at Sparrow.

"I do," Sparrow responded.

"Then let's feed them."

They lowered Dean and Jack and De La Vega revealed his fangs and bit the wrists of two of the men that had helped carry the duo. And their blood left their bodies. The Baron soon stopped them and licked their wrists, closing the wound completely; as if it had never been there.

[Dean and Jack are now at 1 HP and you return to consciousness.]

"Bring the herd," the Baron ordered and the female MIB left. Only minutes later she returned with dozens of people. Men, women, old, and young. People of all ethnicities. By their clothing some were rich and others were not. Some were attractive. A smorgasbord of variety.

The MIBs help Jack and Dean to their feet.

"You need to feed to return to your full strength. Take your pick. But don't kill them!"

[OOC Dean and Jack, if you decide to partake, describe what the person you feed on look like. And let me know why you picked that person, you can use a PM if you like.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:22, Mon 04 Nov 2019.

Hunger.

It was a word that had little real meaning for Dean. Dean who had grown up on a prosperous nation with plenty of food on the shelves, Dean who had visited a sports nutritionist on more than one occasion. He had even had  a fairly specific diet for years. Such an abundance of food that he could pick and choose for optimum performance.

Now, the word meant something.

Hunger was the thing that had stared out at him in the pages of history books. Hunger was what had driven his ancestors to tackle game many times their own size, or to devour their neighbors during a hard winter. It showed in his eyes.

It was not a slavering loss of control, but it was easy to see. The man, if a man he could still be called, was starving.

He picked the biggest, and the strongest looking one among them. The parts of him that had studied anatomy whispering about the sheer quantity contained within. Good blood, strong blood, and lots of it.

This, in turn, theoretically meant they would be the hardest to kill. And would give him the most room for, well, for error.

The moral aspect of it, that front part of his brain that cared about such things screamed somewhere in the back of his mind. But that brain was deep in the back, that primal center, it was running the show at the moment.

And it would not be denied.

Dean watched them file in, understood what was expected, and moved the moment he received the word. Everything else would have to wait.

Dean took the big, strong male. Bit him hard and fed long and deep. You could see a feeling of ecstasy on the man's face. He made no effort to stop Dean from Feeding. But a few seconds later, Dean stopped, and let the man go. Blood still leaking from the wound.

"Lick the wound and it will close," the Baron informed Dean.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:24, Mon 04 Nov 2019.

Dean had never done drugs in his life, but he had to assume that the sensation he was feeling was something akin the Heroin.

He felt better than he ever dreamed would be possible. As the blood perfused his system, and his mind gradually cleared, he began to recognize the inherent wrongness of the situation. His memory also struggled to catch up to just how he had arrived at the present moment.

He looked like he was becoming more aware, and then, both concerned and confused. He eventually pulled away and saw the fresh red blood still welling up from the wound. He paused, looking conflicted, before he eventually acted on the direction and sealed the wound with a hesitant lick to each puncture.

As he regained his full height he blinked, and then took an unsteady step backwards. His gaze locked on Tom, and then uncertainty upon Abe. He looked like he had a million questions, his eyes practically screamed out for answers, but some other force kept in check, and from breaking into hysterics.

Where as before he had seemed on deaths now, now just a few moments later, he seemed stronger than ever.

Tom felt that he had been co-opted into some kind of movie, maybe The Godfather or John Wick. He followed along behind the others, doing his best not to look too curious about his surroundings. He didn't want to stick out like a rube at his first rodeo. Still, this whole experience felt strange.

As they traveled up through the building's staircase, Tom stayed close to the guys carrying Dean and Jack, although not too close. Were they all vampires, too? Tom kind of pictured vampires to act like royalty, somehow, lording it over lesser beings. Maybe it was the fashion sense, or the immortality. Whatever it was, Tom didn't feel safe, not here where vampires ruled.

He watched, fascinated, as first the Baron bit his men, and then as a crowd of people came pouring in to the hotel. The vampires' food source. The thought makes him sick to his stomach, and the feeling grew even more when he saw what he knew would be coming, Dean feeding on a particularly large man.

The look on the victim's face startled Tom the most, though--a look of almost euphoria. When Dean looked at him after his feeding, Tom, turned away, disgusted by what he had seen. Of course he didn't say anything--he'd likely be the next one to be fed on.

Vampires were supposed to be able to read minds, weren't they? Or was Tom mixing up his lore? Whatever the case, he attempted to be as calm as possible. No doubt one sign of weakness and the vamps would rush him, either killing him outright or forcing him to become another of their mindless thralls.

The wounds vanished as soon as Dean had licked them.

"That only works when you feed," De La Vega said.

It was sad in a way, to watch the big kid. Not even old enough to buy a beer, and here he was in front of a bunch of strangers trying to somehow grapple with an event that would likely take years, if not decades to fully process.

Like an amputee waking up after a car wreck, he could follow directions. Roll over, swallow these pills, give me your arm. But in Deans case it was, drink the blood of this stranger, close the wound to hide your deeds from the world, don't freak out and break down in front of the few people that might possibly know that was going on. He obeyed because he did not know what else to do, and to start pulling on that thread was to risk unraveling everything that was keeping him upright.

When Tom turned away, it hurt. It hurt because Dean could not blame him for doing it. He also tried not to look at the man from whom he had just bit. Like the morning after a drunken one night stand, it was kind of weird now.

The big picture stuff was just too much. What had happened in the Jade Dragon, the memory of the burning out in the parking lot. It was easier to focus on the little things, like how his "fit bit" had stopped reading anything, and how he realized that he was not breathing. He had been subconsciously holding his breath, but it didn't matter, there was just no urge to do anything about it.

"You rescued me." Dean finally managed to say softly, looking first to their host, the charismatic bald man in the suit, then to Abe and Tom. It was obvious even in his shocked state that had he been left out there in the parking lot, he would burned right down to his bones. But he was here, wherever here was, and so they had somehow gotten him to safety.

He could have gone with "What the hell just happened?" or settled on just screaming his head off, but some part of him knew that he was in the presence of somebody incredibly important, and he damn well needed to make a good first impression.

"There are rules to your new existence," the Baron said. "But we'll get to those in a bit." He then looked at Abe and Tom. "And what about you two. What are you?"

Abe watched as 'the herd' was brought out.  He wondered why people would offer themselves for this.  Perhpaps they sold their blood, or perhaps their lives had been brushed by the supernatural, and now they gave of their resources to sustain those who could protect them?  Then he saw the look of those who were bitten... perhaps they did it for the rush - drugs were bad but at least this one allowed others to live and they were taken care of after.  Still, Abe was hoping to find a way to support his friends without needing them to directly harm others.

"I've been told that I am Fey and I have no reason to second guess that."  Abe responded.  "But I think more importantly, I'm friends with the other three here."

"I see," the Baron said and looked questioningly at Sparrow. "Do you have any comments?"

"I do," Sparrow said. "I told him that, because it is true. And I have all intentions of training him in all the necessary Fae skills."

"And then what?"

"He wants to remain with his friends. I'm sure you and I could arrange that."

He nodded and said something you couldn't hear.

His eyes wandered from person to person standing in front of him in his club.

Having seen enough movies and experienced a bloodbath himself only earlier today, Tom knew that this situation could go from 0 to entirely messed up in a moment. Outwardly, he tried to stay calm, but internally, he just wanted to get out of there as fast as he could.

When the Baron asked him what he was, Tom said, "Sparrow says I'm a Hunter. I can feel when people are different, not what they seem to be. You feel cold, for instance, and Sparrow here feels like laughter."

"And he too is friends with the other three," Sparrow hurridly added before the Baron could say anything.

"Are you certain," De La Vega asked.

"I have spent time with them, both Abe and Tom have shown me that the four of them are friends."

The Baron chuckled. "I was asking about him being a hunter."

"Oh, I have tested him and the results speak for themselves. He could be nothing else."

"Kill him," the Baron ordered.

And as the MIBs turned on Tom, Sparrow pressed herself up against him as if she was shielding him from them, and said "No!"

The MIBs looked at the Baron and he waved them off.

"Why not?"

"How many Hunters have you met?"

"None, but I've heard what has happened to others."

"And what have you heard?"

"They kill us!"

"But he hasn't done that."

"Perhaps he's playing the long game."

"Is that what they do?"

"No," the Baron said with a sigh. "They show up and they kill."

"Exactly! Tom hasn't done that."

"But from what Abe told Carson, this is a new condition. Perhaps he doesn't know how yet."

"You mean the way a new vampire doesn't know how to hate werewolves?"

"Exactly."

"Then we make sure he is taught differently."

"Can we do that?"

"If they are all in the same cohort, how could we not."

"Is that what you want?" The Baron looked at Abe, Dean, Jack, and Tom for a response.

Through this exchange, Sparrow had remained pressed up against Tom. Not even a piece of paper could fit between them. The top of her head pressing against the side of his, accentuating the half foot height difference between the two.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 17:21, Wed 06 Nov 2019.

Dean takes half a step forward before he catches himself. He did not know much, hardly anything at all, and it was getting stranger by the minute. But what he did know was that Tom seemed to be on the verge of being mobbed and killed.

He looked like he was about to say something when the woman shielded Tom with her body. A lot of words were being thrown about. Fey. Hunter. Vampire. Werewolf. It did not take a genius to know which of the above Dean fit under, and that acceptance ca,e with unsettling ease. After all, what else could he be? What else could explain what he had just experienced?

And he was supposed to hate Werewolves? That had not been lost on him either.

When asked if he wanted Tom to remain alive, Dean found he had to breath again in order to speak, this caused a slight pause. "I..." then the urgency of the situation pushed him past caution. "Yes, of course."
he said with surprising confidence. "I don't exactly know what's going on, I'll admit, or what a Hunter is exactly, but if you want me to vouch for him, I will." he looked to Tom. "You're willing to learn Tom, right? You're not looking to kill anybody?" he suddenly remembered that Tom had been on track to join the military. "At least not anybody that doesn't deserve it?"
This message was last edited by the player at 03:03, Sun 10 Nov 2019.

Abe was surprised at Sparrow's vehemence in protecting Tom... as well as that it caused the vampires en masse - and to some extent the Baron - pause.  He watched the dialogue unfold, not having any way to affect anything himself, yet.

He wondered slightly at the Fae woman's shift from being a bit stand-offish about teaching him to her statement that she had every intention of doing so.  Perhaps she had warmed up to the group... or at least Tom?  Or perhaps even more was going on than what he could see.  He pulled his mind back from that rabbit hole in time to consciously register the Baron's question.

Abe agreed with Dean.  "Yes, certainly."  He responded.  His consenting to stopping for food - as well as bringing the guys along to begin with - had gotten them killed once.  How could he leave any of them out to dry now?

We kill, Tom thought, as the Baron’s words sunk in. But why? Tom didn’t want to kill anyone here. He was practically in love with Sparrow, or more accurately, infatuated, and Abe, Jack, and Dean were his friends.

His heart beat faster when Sparrow shielded him, and he realized that if she weren’t there, he would most likely already be dead. He didn’t know why she was willing to put her life on the line for him, but she was powerful, and he suspected it would take more than a few vampires to do her in.

”I don’t want to kill anyone,” he said slowly. ”I’m still trying to process what’s happened here.” Like that vampires and werewolves and whatever Abe and Sparrow are exist, not to mention whatever that’s happened to him. ”I swear that I won’t try to kill anyone here.” If he even could.

Jack awoke, and indeed, he was hungry. Hungrier than he'd ever been in his life. Hungry in a way he'd never been before. His first instinct, upon awakening, was simply to reach out for the nearest neck and begin drinking, but that thought alone jarred him from his starved stupor, so alien as it was in his normal thought processes.

"Okay, what is even the hell," Jack said, languidly, in the tone of voice of someone who had only just woken from a deep sleep. "I am too hungry, and too tired for this crap. Hunters? Werewolves? And freaking vampires?" He said, before accidentally poking his lips with his newfound fangs.

"God dammit!" he yelled. "Fine, I'm guessing that feeding isn't optional for us. Well, let's at least make this slightly less awkward." He felt weird about feeding on the men; there was something intimate about getting into someone's personal space and seeking one's teeth into their neck, and it felt too personal for that. So instead he reached for one of the women and bit in, doing his best to not drain her dry.

Once he'd had his fill, he looked to the others. "Okay, you guys mind filling me in on what's been going on while I was... out?" he asked the rest of the group. "I see I kind of missed a few things."

Jack fed on the most beautiful female in the herd. And like the male Dean had fed on, there was an obvious ecstasy on her face. Jack held her up easily, just as Dean had held up the much larger man he had chosen to feed on.


After a few seconds, Jack stopped feeding on her and continued feeding on the second most beautiful female in the group. The ecstasy was just as plain on her face and Jack held her close too. A


[OOC: Ecstacy is a specific condition in GURPS. The person is incapacitated with overwhelming pleasure. If standing or sitting, they fall down. There is more, but we'll take that the other thread.]

Abe glanced at Jack.  "Short version - you're now a vampire so you burned when you got into the sun.  We got you into a coveniently sun-proof truck and drove us here, after one pit stop and using a phone-a-friend.  Long story is... long.  We can bore you with it once things are settled here.  For now the Baron just wants to know if you're on board for him not having his men kill Tom."

Abe then remembered Jack's tendency to shoot his mouth off in less than brilliant ways.  "But before you give an answer, I'd remind you that if he hadn't helped me get you and Dean into the truck, you'd both be little piles of ash in the parking lot at the Jade Dragon and he wouldn't have just been threatened with getting re-corpsified.  And before you ask: yes, this is real life."

Dean looks to Jack, obviously having some idea of what the other young man (could they really be called Men anymore?) was experiencing. Abe's explanation is as accurate as it is brief, and he has nothing much more to add. Hearing it just laid out like that does not make it any easier to accept.

"Thank you for that" Dean says seriously, referring to Abe and Tom saving them. How many like himself did not survive their first day? Their first week? Their first year? He can easily imagine the majority of new Vampires perishing through all sorts of violence. The thought is sobering to say the least, especially in the company of those willing to kill at the whim of this "Prince"
This message was last edited by the player at 03:03, Sun 10 Nov 2019.

"Good," the Baron says when all of you have responded regarding to Tom.

"There is much for you to do." De La Vega continues looking at each of you. "Sparrow, you can remain at the club if you like, but the rest of the day is vampire business."

"I'll be here," Sparrow says. "Come see me when you are ready to leave."

"Follow me," the Baron says and walks away to the stairs without looking behind him to see who is following him. Behind whoever of you that do are the two male MIBs who didn't give of their blood. Carson leaves on his own business.

From the staircase up to the second floor, you have a full view of the club floor and up here there's another bar and plenty of round and square tables with white table cloths on a fully carpeted floor. And a number of areas primed and ready for bottle service.

You continue up another set of stairs to the third floor, where all you can see is another set of stairs, a locked metal door, and a "Private" sign on the door. The baron unlocks the door with an RFID tag. There are a keypad and slot for key cards too.

There is another staircase leading upstairs, but the Baron ignores it. He leads you down a couple of corridors to a conference room with eight chairs around an oval, mahogany table. With all the technical and other equipment one can expect in such a space.

Over the next few hours, you speak about rules and expectations. Of vampires in general and of cohorts in his service.


[OOC You now all have Duty (Baron De La Vega; 6 or less) [-2], which means that if I roll 6 or less on 3d6, or slightly more than 9% of the time, you will be called to duty and it will occasionally be hazardous.]