Margreth Fairstad's diary

Thursday, the 12th of October, 2023

  In the darkness of New York, four Vampires met at a night club.   The night was young, and I found myself at a table with three strangers.   I am Margreth Fairstad, a Gangrel. I am just shy of six feet with broad shoulders. I have dark hair and dark eyes. They called me very pale even before the incident. To get into the nightclub, I had to wear a nice dress and use Blush of Life. So, instead of looking like a corpse, I now looked like a regular very, very pale girl. What a horrible life.   I sat with Max Ewans, a Ventrue. He looked like he was in his 30s, short black hair and well groomed beard. Friendly and well dressed. He owned the club we were at, The Forbidden Phoenix.   Next was Martin Summers, a Toreador. He had dyed blonde hair with black roots. He wore suspenders over a plain white shirt and generally well dressed.   Finally, Frank Clark was also a Toreador. He's dressed like a banker, with white hair and beard, in his 50s, and well dressed. Good looking and muscular. He's the tallest in the group at 2 meters.   We sit and talk for a moment before Leonard, one of Max's kine staff approaches. There's been an incident in one of the men's bathrooms. A dead body has been found.   We go to investigate. It's bloodless. This is a masquerade breach if it's found. And it's illegal. Someone else has poached on Max's territory.   Martin, a photographer, takes a pretty picture on his secret masquerade breaching SD-card.   We lock the bathroom while Martin goes out to look for a murderer. He gets distracted by a cutie.   We go talking to the security officers. One of them, Casper helps us.   We see the victim go inside and then a scruffy looking fella follows some seconds later. He's left out the back, tacking a bicycle northward from John's street towards Fulton street. I had to go pick up my gear from the bouncers. And while we were there, I asked if they'd seen our suspect. The main bouncer, Alexandra, had seen him, but didn't remember his name or address.   We followed as best we could, down a few blocks until we reached William's Street. There was a bakery called "Lisa's bakery" that seemed very interesting. I sent my bird Coco out on a little scouting trip, but he didn't see anything. Meanwhile, Martin and Max headed inside. Martin distracted the cashier while Max went up to the security office.   Martin learned our perp was called Morgan "no-last-name" and he had been a regular customer here for a while. He hadn't showed up for a week or so. He was a skittish guy, scared of his own shadow.   We didn't get the name of the cashier, but she'll be back later.   Up on the 8th floor, Max finds the security office, where one guy has all the cameras. Max does some charming and some bribing, and sees the building Morgan had gone in. Perhaps his lair?   We go to investigate, and find many people live in the building with m. names, so we try a few until we get one to open the door for us.   And we try a few doors before we find one that's suspicious. (maybe it had a nameplate on it)   We crack open the door, and it doesn't go too well. And in the melee that ensues, me and Morgan tussled a bit. He did some serious superficial damage to me. And I end up getting reeaaaal hungry.   After we subdue him, I go out to have a snack, and I end up killing a homeless man in the process. Draining him of blood completely. That takes a toll on me, as I murdered someone, and I let the beast take over. A double wammy. Max also kills his prey. And we have to go out into the wilderness to bury the bodies where they'll never be found.  

Thursday, the 12th of October, 2023. Continued

  After having hidden the bodies, we link up in the club. Morgan has a lot of explaining to do. He tells us he was turned a week ago, on October the 5th. At least, that's what he thinks happened. He's not sure.   We take him to the Seneschal, an older gent called Léon Phillips.   The Seneschal works at the Deutche Bank Center near Central Park. That's where all the different high-ranking vampires work.   It's a modern and clean place, very nice. Frank works here too, as a regular banker, he takes us there.   We get waved in by a French guard. And we meet Léon. His first instinct is to simply kill Morgan, as he has breached the masquerade already. A capital punishment. We manage to convince him that if we find the sire, we can take Morgan under our wing and he'll be saved.   I think that's a great deal, even if I have no idea how to find his sire.   We manage to get a resident Mage, Maria, to take a measure of Morgan's blood. He's a Ventrue, a princeling. How quaint. The magic is deep purple, which means Venture, apparently.   Max thinks it might be his sire, come to fuck with him. There's bad blood between them. It seems. I'm not privy to all the details, but Max' Sire, Sean Murphy, is a real piece of shit.   We return to Lisa's bakery. Max and Frank head inside, while Martin and I have a nice talk about our lives and such.   Meanwhile, inside, Max and Frank talk to the security officer again, Jack. He remembers Max from earlier, but Max' magic has done a number on his mind.   They go back to the day we think Morgan was turned. We see him exit BEFORE THE SUN GOES DOWN and enter his building. They see the cashier follow some time after, BEFORE THE SUN GOES DOWN. And a few hours later. BEFORE THE SUN GOES DOWN(!) we see the cashier leave and enter Morgan's building. And she leaves there after dark.   At 1 am, Morgan leaves, changed somehow.   Our suspects are as follows: Sean Murphy, maybe The cashier, maybe not, seeing as she left during the day   Max and Frank struggle a bit with leaving, but after some hijinks, they get out and we regroup.   I order Coco to watch her, and find her house, and to return to the club the next evening with the answer. We then go to sleep for the day.    

Friday, the 13th of October, 2023

  Coco found her house in Brooklyn, but we have to check out Morgan's apartment for clues first.   Max and Frank are down in the lower levels looking for cameras or anything like that while me and Martin go up to his apartment.   They don't find anything really, only that a Joseph Yates owns the entire block, basically.   We don't find much either, but I steal the key to the cashiers house, Rianne Dalby. They were banging, another mark against her as a Kindred.   We head out towards her house, with the key in hand.  

Friday, the 13th of October, 2023. Continued

  I got called to the hospital, and have to save an animal or something.   Meanwhile, The boys head to Rianne's house in Queens/Brooklyn.   They give up the element of surprise, and let her trap her home so when they walk in, they get owned.   But they manage to subdue her and bring her to the club where we meet up.  

Friday, the 13th of October, 2023. Continued

  I meet up with the boys at Max' private apartment, not the sex dungeon one, but the crew meeting floor. I get some answers from Rianne, and she becomes Max Ghoul. She no longer has any loyalty to her former Domitor, and can now answer our questions freely.   Her former Domitor sired Morgan, with the intention to make him brake the masquerade, and thus destroy the Camarilla. She's Anarch, but extreme. She wants to hurt us because we're Camarilla.   We need to protect her in general, as she is Max(our) retainer, and protect her from Elizabeth Fairweather in specific, as she will want revenge.   Elizabeth's house is in the south of Queens, but she spends most of her time at her work as a journalist for The New York Times. As a Ventrue, she has Fortitude, mind powers and is decent in a fight.   The plan is as follows:
1. We get go get her and bring her to justice
2. We save Morgan
3. ???
4. Profit
  But that has to wait for the next night.  

Saturday, the 14th of October, 2023

  We go to Elizabeth's house. There's a ward on her door. We were warned by Rianne about it, and she gave us a ring she used to get over the line. Frank got fucked up by the ward and had to sit it out.   I look about, and I smell blood in her carpet. She doesn't use her house much, but I find an almanac, where she again confirms that she spends much time at NYT, but also at a club, Yerman's Irish Pub. We suspect it's an anarch club. But there's not a whole lot of information about her.   I crawl up on the roof and find a pidgeon with a message from Rianne. Bad Opsec of her not use a dumbphone.   We finish up here, and leave to the NYT building.  

Saturday, the 14th of October, 2023. Continued

  We head into the NYT building.   After some lying from Martin, we find her office.   The boys go up to talk to her, while I skulk about in the office. She's in a blind spot in the surveillance, and I position myself in another. I still have my sword with me, ready if things go tits up. If Martin sends me a signal, I'm to pull the fire alarm.   But Martin and Max do some good talking and get her to come along with them to the club. One of the empty floors there.   I talk briefly to the receptionist about cats, his was ill, and as a veterinarian, I know this things. Very glad to flex my mental muscles. And I ingratiate me towards Elizabeth, further lowering her guard.   We trick her into the club, if she suspects anything, she doesn't show it. And Martin hands me the stake.   There was a chance I'd miss, but I stake her right in the heart.   We got her.   Transporting her to the Seneschal takes a little bit, Max has to have an endless source of Human sized boxes to fit her in. And we drop her off. and it's done!   I go on a little hunt to celebrate, and I drink some blood from a happy woman. I feel really happy myself  

Sunday, the 15th of October, 2023

  Elizabeth's trial!   The stakes are:
Morgan's life
Our honor.
  The trial goes well, all things considered.   We get control of Morgan, and Elizabeth gets killed.   I note down five Anarchs, and three seem to be interesting.   A small woman, very angry, very punk.
A tall man, modern and casual. Bald and with a big beard
A tall woman, red hair and very angry.
And two others who seemed less than keen on being here.
  I also see Maria, the witch, and Primogen Astrid, the Gangrel Primogen   Some of the elders are really mad that Morgan got to live, and he should be killed.   It appears that when you die, time takes it toll on you, and you appear as if your body was as old as it really is. Someone really old will just crumble to ash. I would become a rotting corpse.   I talked to Astrid for a bit, after messing up the introductions a little.   She's worried about Gangrel in the eastern parks, they're getting pushed out by encroaching Anarchs.   And she doesn't much care for politics, but she's stuck with the job, and has to be here.   The Toreador is a nice enough guy, a bit pompous, but okay.   And the Venture is an ass, I want to kill him for embarrassing Max.   And finally, Rianne and Morgan reunite, it's very awkward. We head back to the club and do nothing else for the next month.  

Monday, the 16th of October, 2023

  30 days pass.   I spend the time learning to sneak about, seeing in the dark, and lockpicking.   In my off hours, I hang about in The Forbidden Phoenix, because I lack hobbies.   Morgan has moved out, to join his own little coterie. Rianne really works as mortician, and has returned to her work at Rianne's Morgue.   Mabye plot relevant, several kindred in both the Anarchs and Camarilla have vanished, very strange.   And finally, the police have been snooping in on Max' club, because our murder victims.   Morgan killed Kenneth Smith, health inspector. And Max killed Liam K. Anderson, son of Adam K. Anderson, millionaire.   The plan, as I see it, is investigate the disapearances. Maybe it's the feds, maybe its another gang of vampires, maybe it's just war.  

Thursday, the 16th of November, 2023

A man called Lars approached me, with information regarding Odin's lost key. Mona had gotten word that a man named P. Campel had the fragment 10 years ago. Campel also vanished around the same time. Lars gave me two possible locations, Campel's old house and old workplace.   He used to live in 1028 Neill avenue up in the Bronx. The house has been sold and someone else has moved in. It might be worth a look?   And he used to work at the old Metro Theater , on 2626 Broadway. It's abandoned, and kinda spooky. Obviously this is the place to be. Lars gives me this information and leaves. I've got all the things I need to find this object.   I go to the club to talk to my friends, and get them onboard.   We make a plan, they'll help me with my little quest, and in return, I'll help them with anything they need. (I'd do it anyway because I don't have anything better to do, but they don't know that)   Frank does some googling, and skims the wikipedia page. It's been abandoned for some years now. I call up my old friend Jason McGraw, the irish mobster. And ask if he's got information about it. He digs up some schematics, and we learn there are several entreances.   There's the front, the back, a sunroof and a sewer entrance.   I think the sewer entrance is the easiest way in, obviously. But my fancy pants friends, Frank and Martin won't even entertain the idea of going in the sewers. So that's out.   The front and back are grated, and practically impossible to get open. Which leaves the sunroof. There's no easy access to the roof.   Luckily, Martin is a liar without equal, and gets access to the building next to it. We then have to climb down the side, which goes fine, and smash open the sunroof.'   We get down, and it's instantly spooky. Music seems to play from one of the theaters. And it's very spooky.   There's four ways out of the main hall. The basement, the storage room in the back, and the two theaters. We hear some music from the right theater, and we decide to go towards the storage room.   Martin and Frank get whamied the moment we step through the door, and see visions of people dancing, and they dance too. It's a mess. From the storage room, there's a door to the left, and a stairway upstairs. We climb the stairs and some more spooky things happen.   There's ghostly images, and cold sensations. My eyes can see far, and in the dark, but not ghosts.   The upstairs have some offices, and access to the maintinance area above the stages. We briefly inspect the first office, and we learned that the building had a deadly fire some many years ago, and went bankrupt soon after.   More spooky things happen, and I felt the need to hurry on. That we had to get on and get out of here. We pushed on, and tried to cross the maintinance area. We get halfway before the ghost snapped some of the rope. We ran across it, and only I managed to get across without issue, the others fell down. It hurt them a little, but we're vampires, so it wasn't that bad.   I tried to press on myself, into the next stage, where I got whammied. I saw a vision of what happened that night, when so many people died. Martin and Frank get whammied again.   I try to commit violence against the ghost, and he sets fire to the building. It looks real, but I know it isn't and manage to keep my focus in face of the deadly fire. The Red Fear. The boys downstaris, almost sucumb to the fear and the (illusionary) fire. And I have to jump down to save them.   Martin takes a picture of me, lit on fire, as I kick down the door, saving the boys.   The way across the stages was now locked away, we could visit the basement, but we have a sense about the upstairs.   The door in the storage area led to a makeup and dressing room. There was the remains of a stairs there. We climb up there with some boxes and ladders.   There's definitive evidence that someone lived here. Piles of clothes, and spooky atmosphere. A large box stood in the middle of the room. And I can hear the ghost breathing in one of the offices. The corpse of, presumably, Campel, sat in the corner. Clutching a bottle of alcohol and a parcel.   The parcel has bad juju.   We all have to cooperate, and we manage to rip the piece away from the corpse, at great danger to ourselves.   I travel to Dyker Beach Park and hand the fragment over to Mona, she was surprised that we finished so soon. And I get a "good job".   Yaay!  

Monday, the 20th of November, 2023.

  A few days of downtime, I don't do much of anything important. Just working at the clinic.   Martin got a visit from Adrian, one of the guards at the Deutche Bank. He had a job for us. The job was simple, find some hunters that had been prowling about, and get rid of them.   He'd repay us with cash or a boon, whichever we prefered. It seemed so simple.   He had their location pegged at 108th street and 48th avenue in Brooklyn, a stonesthrow away from Queens Zoo. It would be a yellow appartment house. Martin had some suspisions that these might be Second Inqusition, a dangerous group of kine. They could also be independent hunters, time would tell.   Max and I went to get my sword from my lair, before heading out to their home. Meanwhile, Martin and Frank got costumes for all four of us. A clever ploy to hide our identeties. Large suits and masks.   Their home seemed a normal one, and we didn't want to make a fuzz. Martin and Frank decided to get some costumes to hide our identeties. A clever ploy. We staked the building for a few hours, there seemed to be two apartments, one belonging to a P. Lawson, and A. Aktor. I strained my ears, and could hear three voices. A man, a woman, and a boy.   The morning approached, and we had to return to our lairs, but I set Coco to watch the building during the day.  

Tuesday, the 21st of November, 2023.

  Coco has not yet learned to talk, a power I want to grant him soon. He could only answer yes or no questions. After some asking, we learned three people had left the building. A young woman and man had left seperately, and a second young woman had left alone some time later. They first two had returned together.   We were in Brooklyn, so I figured we were close enough to Anarch teritory that no one would notice if I took a quick topup on some unsuspecting fool. The blood tasted almost as sweet as the first time, it was a wonderful meal.   Martin and Max had the great idea of using the neighbor, Ava as a proxy to get ourselves into the building. Using some of their mind magicks, they presuaded her to let us into the building. Into her home. It was a difficult conversation to have, I am a woman of action. We sat in her living room, talking endlessly in circles trying to get mere morsels of information out of her.   In the end, we learned her neighbours were a nice enough little family. Peter Lawson lived there, and his siblings were visiting.  

Tuesday, the 21st of November, 2023. Continued.

  We headed up the stairs to their appartment, my first idea was trying to pick the lock open. It was a simple lock, true, but I was still a great novice. I was unable to get the door open.   With no other options, we had to go kinetic, hoping to catch them by surprise before they could hide themselves or the evidence. I broke the door open, with some troubles.   The appartment was similarly arranged as Ava's, a central living room, with a bedroom, a bathroom, and a kitchen to one side.   We split up to look for people, and I broke into the bathroom. No one was there, but I heard shouts and sounds from the bedroom, Frank had found someone. I dashed towards him, but I was too late. Peter Lawson stood his ground, he protected his family. Frank was nearly killed in the scuffle. They were just mortals, so we manged to get a handle eventually.   Seeing no other option, we decided to kidnap them. Frank and I stuffed them into our car and drove away, barely avoiding the cops. We drove and drove until we were outside the city limits. Outside the Prince's domain. It was a feeble excuse, but the best we had. After trying to give them enough money to get a hotel room with command to run away. We returned in shame  

Wednesday, the 22nd of November, 2023

  I went to the meet up, as usual, in the club. Frank and Martin hadn't arrived, so I helped Max with finding someone of suitable taste. After he was finished with his business, Rianne called and told us to look at the news, which we did. There, we saw our case presented. The police was investigating, Ava was being interviewed on live television. Frank's car with me in it, had been recorded on our way out of town.   Bad turned to worse, when Frank and Martin called. Apparently, Frank, wounded by yesterday's events, devided to have a bite to eat. He found himself a nice young gentleman, and drained him dry. There was suddenly a dead body in the mix.   With the police looking for us, our only option was to hide this body and get our affairs in order. Things were looking bad. Ryanne worked at a morgue, she could dispose of this body. It took some time and effort, but we managed, sneaking the body in a mattress down to her morgue.   Frank wanted to dispose of his car. I went with him, as no one should be alone at such trying times. We found a place and burned his car to a wreck. As we trugded along, the fire department was on their way towards it.   Our next task was figuring out where to go. Martin was a skittish thing, Frank seemed so far away already, and Max just wanted out. Just wanted to leave this whole thing.   I sent a message to Mona, asking to meet her in her park. A few hours later, I met her at her usual location.   "So what was it you neede help with?"   I couldn't lie to her, so I explained everything, the mission from Leon, the children, the monumental failure, Frank's accident, and how the coterie was disintegrating before my very eyes.   "What do I do? Will they get me?"   She sat perfectly still as I told her, asking no questions. Her eyes got darker and darker, and finally, she said, "Ok so if understand this correctly, Frank is the prime suspect of a kidnapping as you kidnapped the hunter family, and then later on he also killed an innocent, but unrelated man. Since you are associated with Frank you all fear that this can be tracked back to you?   "Although possible, since you are merely nothing more than "friends" as far as the Kine is concerned, you will probably be questioned by the police but as far as there is no incriminating evidence against you and as long as you dont say anything stupid during a potential interrigation then You, Max and Martin should be fine on that front. What I am most worried about however, is that you let the Hunters live with their memories intact. That is a masquerade breach. Problems with the police is not that hard to deal with, but endangering the fine balance of the kindred worlds masquerade is much harder to deal with"   "As far as i see it you have 2 options. option 1 is to try to hide what you did, lie about it and tell them you killed the hunters and completed the job. If you manage to make them believe you you will walk away scott free, but if the hunters ever resurface you will be in serious trouble and at that point i will not be able to help you. Option 2 is to come clean and seek forgiveness and a chance to redeem yourself. Tell them you did not have the heart to kill children and let them go. They will not be happy, but if you plead for a chance to redeem yourself they most likely will give you that chance. The camarilla is many things but wastefull it is not, they might send you on on some dangerous jobs to "repent" or something im honestly not sure, but make it out of those and it should be water under the bridge so to say. as to what will happen to the Hunters its hard to say, The Prince will probably have to send someone more rutheless to take care of them."   "Truly, two horrible choices," I said, "I can't lie well enough to pretend we had killed the children. The seneshal had eyes and ears everywhere, he might already know we let them live, he might already have sent someone to kill them. The second option is no better, the work might be dangerous, so dangerous that I might truly die. And failure might affect you and impede your work towards the key. I'm sorry, Mona, I couldn't kill them, they were children"   "Only the most barbarous of kindred willingly kill children, and i highly doubt they would send you lot to kill the hunters after you already let them go once," she said, "and i do recommend you go for the second option, the direct and honest option is often the best when it comes to covering yourself for your own mistakes. And they they might send you on some dangerous job that they hope will kill you so they might get some use out of your death, however Kindred always keep their word and if you strike a deal with them, something along the lines of "i do a mission for you so i get forgiven for allowing the children to live" they will let you get away with it.   "Option 1 is too risky for my taste, 1 wrong move and not only you but your entire coaterie will probably be executed, and their sires and I will also get "a stern talking to" since you are my responsibility."   There was a long period of silence, before I spoke again, "Then we're in agreement, should I tell them tonight? We plan on meeting tomorrow"   "Just tell them what our plan is tomorrow, i can show up too if you'd like in an attempt to plead your case" she offered.   The thought of me bringing Mona to talk to the crew horrified me. Mona showing up was like bringing your mother to talk to your friends. I shook my head, "I'll deal with them on my own, they know me, but they do not know you"   With that out of the way, I headed back to my zoo, I spent some time cuddling with the wolves before I fell asleep under my rock for a day of uneasy death.  

Thursday, 23rd of November, 2023

  Frank did not arrive in time for our meetup. I could see Martin itching to leave. He didn't like this, he hated this. This wasn't the first time he'd fled town, and only the promise to discuss it made him pause. We waited, ten minutes, fifteen minutes, thirty minutes, before Max got a phonecall from Rianne. "Head to the morgue, I've got something for you" she said.   In the morgue, Rianne waited. I didn't like the morgue, too much cold blood. Too sterile, too … something. I had to try my best not to pace back and forth. The noose around us felt like it was tightening ever stricter. Finally, she wheeled out Frank, and he looked horrible. Beaten, tortured, cut to pieces. Frank was dead, dead as a doornail. With a police report and everything.   What had happened? How could this be? Who had done such a thing to a friend, to a member of my crew? I wanted to wring their necks, to avenge my fallen brother. But Rianne was one step ahead of us, of me. She picked up a pair of tweezers, and pulled a toothpick out of Frank's heart.   At once, he had returned. He was back amongst the … unliving.   Rianne must have timed something, because she turned on the news, and showed the reporting of Frank's brutal murder at the hands of unknown assailants. It might be gang-related, it might be a lot of things. But the sucpisions were cast away from us at the moment.   Thankfully.   Rianne, ever the resourceful one, had procured a new identity of sorts. Frank, now James, would be spotted as a fake the moment someone looked at it, but it would do for now.   With the coterie gathered, and no choice but to admit our faults, we slinked back to Leon with our tail behind our legs.   He was incredibly angry with us. We could only plead and beg for our survival. He told us in no uncertain terms that we were on thin fucking ice. Our only chance was to find a missing kindred. The kindred was none other than the Malkavian Primogen, Henry Edwards Gallahan.   The last time anyone had seen the Primogen was at the trial, back in October. He'd boarded the bus, as he usually did, and vanished.   In addition, Max made the difficult choice to sever ties with us, to flee the crew and flee his responisbilities. He had long feared what might happen to his club, that other kindred might invade his domain and steal his prey. He bought his freedom by sacrificing the dream of sovereignty. He walked out of that office, never to be seen again.   As an additional punishment, Leon tagged a new kindred into our crew. A stranger, recently arrived in town. I feared the worst. A spy? A traitor? Someone that would leave us to die at the worst possible moment? Who was this?   We travled to a divebar in Queens, in Anarch territory. Without Max's drivers and Franks' car, we were left with few options. I had recently gotten my drivers licence, and with Martin funding the endevour, we got a rental car and drove to the address.  

Thursday, 23rd of November, 2023. Continued

  There weren't many people out and about a late Thursday evening. The street seemed empty, and my hasty scan revealed no hidden creatures. Mortal or otherwise.   I led Martin and James down the stairs. There were four people in the bar, the bartender, two older fellas with each their beer, and a fourth man. He had a dangerous air about him, and he didn't smell like a mortal. It's difficult to explain, and there's no clear explanation, sometimes I can just smell the old blood, a heartbeat that's just off, a preternatural quickness of motion.   This fourth man oozed it. If he was a mortal, I'd eat my own hat. Not that I had one, but you know.   We got down on all sides of him. I could see some tattoos, very delicate, long flowing lines and pretty shapes. I even spied a little poem. The whole regalia gave off "I'm with the mob" vibes.   We talked a little, introduced ourselves. This was Vincent Cole, our new friend. I let Max and James do the talking, as usual, about what to do now, and what our mission was.   The conversation was normal, for our kind, but I noted Vincent called us "Canites", a word I'd heard Mona use once. The Camarilla believed they originated from the biblical Cain, that he was the first Kindred. Mona and I belived our bloodline originated with Odin, the Norse god. Mona had instructed me to not talk about our heritage in too much detail. We were "canites" if anyone asked.   The Camarilla never used that word, but what did it mean? Was he not Camarilla? I didn't know much about the Anarchs and the Sabbat, what terms they used for their kind, and for Camarilla-kind. It didn't matter.   With Vincent in the crew, the next step was figuring out how Gallahan usually operated. What was his usual pattern?   We knew his lair was a hotel in Bronx, Wingate Hotel. That seemed to be a clear first target.   It was a nice enough building, the suroundings were less so. Run down buildings, empty parking lots. Buildings for sale. It seemed a shabby neighbourhood. The perfect place to hide a mental hospital for vampires.   After paralellparking outside, we headed in. There were two people in the foyer, a receptionist, and a guest.   Would the entire night-staff be kindred? Did Gallahan employ his own followers? We talked briefly, and she led us to the employee only area. She, it turned out, was a Ghoul, Oliver's Ghoul. We did not meet Oliver, I still don't know who he is.   We did meet two nice kindred, Malkavians. It was Reiss, a handsome young lad, fashionable, ginger, and very pale. And Casper, a bald and bearded older man. Not very fashionable, he wore a simple shirt and jeans. They were nominally in charge now that Gallahan was gone. They were certain Gallahan was still alive, somewhere out there.   There seemed to be some kind of comunication, all Malkavian could hear eachother, could feel eachother. Most of the time it was a mess of rambling noise, but Kasper and Riss had figured out Gallahan was still alive. Which meant our chances of success went from impossible to improbable.   They had heard the words "A prision that hold the dead inanimate" cast across the web, but what that meant, they had no idea. I didn't have a clue either.   We also didn't know why Gallahan was still alive, would a kidnapper also be a murderer? Would he try to escape? Was this retribution for something?   In any case, we had to find him before time ran out. There might be clues in his office, and there might be clues with the bus company. Riss and Kasper were hesitant to let us rummage through Gallahan's office, even if we found clues there. He might not take kindly to someone overturning it, when he returned.   Martin and James decided to head to the central bus station, and look for clues there. While Vincent and I inspected the bus stop Gallahan would have used.   It was a short walk from the hotel really, just across the bridge. Vincent had some ideas about talking to the homeless people in the area, they might have seen something. And, according to him, were easily bribed to give all sorts of information.   Sadly, there was little information to find. We only found an old woman, pushing a cart around, she seemed to be in her 80s. We asked about Gallahan, we asked about the bus, and we asked about that night. She had few answers. Yes, she'd seen Gallahan at times, but the last time was weeks and months ago.   After parting ways with her, Vincent used some of his powers to look for … something. I didn't have a good handle on what he was. Mona had never gone into much detail about the other kinds of kindred. I knew the basics, but little more than that. I had no idea why Vincent's eyes went black, or what he saw with them.   With no other clues around, we linked back up with Martin and James. They had some more success talking with the MTA people. The mortals were surprisingly helpful, after a dose of Martin's mesmerizing powers, of course. The busses had cameras onboard, but someone, the kidnappers, perhaps.   He'd managed to track down the bus driver to a name and a number. A Dwayne Lawson had called in sick minutes before his shift was about to start. I hoped he wasn't related to our previous Lawsons.   Martin had not been able to find his home address, either he'd looked in the wrong place, or it hadn't been in the system. James tried some googling, but we came up short. With no other options, I called Jason. I thank the stars I pulled that bullet out of him all those years ago.   It seemed Mr. and Mrs. Lawson lived in Brooklyn, near the coast.   With our target in sight, we headed there, eager to dig into where he'd driven that bus.   The apartment building was a simple affair, a handful of apartments, one entrance. So similar to all the others, so non-descript.   Martin lied as easily as I breathed, and smooth-talked his way into their apartment. We were from a European paper, coming to talk to bus-drivers, American bus drivers, about their work.   It was a little silly, but I said nothing, I did nothing, I just stood there and pretended I was mute.   Lawson hadn't been sick, in fact, he'd never been sick. He'd worked every day of his life.   Instead, he'd been at Jimmy's, the local burger joint, a quaint little place a few minutes down the road. He'd taken his breakfast there, when some stranger had approached. The stranger was an older man, maybe in his fifties. He was tall, wore a rain coat, and had salt-and-pepper hair. That was all Lawson could remember.   They had talked together for a bit, the stranger had such a way with words, "Maybe you should take a day off, go home to your wife" he'd said.   Lawson had been unable to deny him. He had called in sick that very moment, and had gone straight home to his wife.   Obviously, whoever had talked to Lawson was a kindred. Obviously he had used some mental magic to make it so.   The hunt continued, now we just had to find this Mr. Salt-and-Pepper.  

Friday, 24th of November, 2023

We met back up the following night at Jimmy's. It seemed so quaint, and so local.   There were 4 people in there, a cashier, a lone customer, and two customers in a conversation. Martin and James approached the cashier, while I crept around to try and listen in on the conversation happening. The three customers were all eating, meaning they probably weren't kindred.   Still, I liked to listen in, hear what I hear and such.   I focused my ears, trying to tone Martin out, to tone the sounds of the kitchen, the cars outside, the ventilation above, the beeping of a phone. In such a small locale, I couldn't focus, I couldn't stop from hearing too much. I ended it all with a headache, and no idea what they were talking about. I still had much to learn, I think.   Martin, meanwhile, ever the productive talker, chatted some with the cashier. Ellie, Jimmy's daughter, manned the till during the early evening shift. After some talking, Jimmy arrived. Martin lied some more about who we were, and why we were here. He asked about Mr. Salt-and-pepper, this tall man in a rain coat, on Sunday the 15th of October. It was almost a month ago now, but something about that man had lodged in his memory.   With some smooth talking, and a little bribe, Martin got to watch the security footage. He saw an old man enter a few minutes after Lawson on the night in question. The old man left soon after, with Lawson leaving right after that. Martin and James looked at the image of the old man, and both remembered him from Morgan's execution.   This was an Anarch op.   The whole situation reeked of politics.   We now had another clue. Some Anarch had dazzled Lawson into leaving his post. Had this Anarch taken the bus? We went to the MTA for more clues. There had to be some record if that was the case.   The road from Jimmy's to the MTA depot wasn't far. It was the same place where Martin and James had gotten Lawson's name.   James and I inspected the bus while Martin tried to talk some more to the technicians inside. Getting inside the bus wasn't that much of an issue. James worked on getting in to the driver's seat, and on to the bus-computer. These busses have cameras all over, there might be some information on there that hadn't been removed by the Anarchs.   Again, I tried to use my senses, sinking deep into the sensory overload. I tuned out my hearing, my sight, my touch. And I tasted the air, I smelled the faintest scents.   Underneath the cleaning agents and the rank stench of sweat, there was something. Something old, something sanguine.   It had happened a month ago, who knew how many times people had sat in that seat. Human odors layered atop one another. I looked at the seat, and there it was. A dark spot on a dark seat. The slight fuzz clumped together a fraction of a degree too much.   I didn't know what Malkavians smelled like, but as I drank in the scent of this old, old blood, I knew I tasted madness.   Gallahan was on this bus, and had bled during his kidnapping.   I managed to pull myself back into my own head just as James cracked the code. My knees wobbled a bit as I approached. He tapped away at the console for a few moments before smiling triumphantly. I watched as Mr. Salt-and-pepper entered the bus, watched as Gallahan entered the bus with his two cronies.   The bus drove on and on and on, it stopped somewhere and then there was a scuffle. Vincent and Martin soon returned, they hadn't had any luck themselves. But with four pair of eyes, we might be able to pick something out.   James watched it five times, before exclaiming, he pointed at a sign, "Merrick Boulevard" and a minute or so later, the reflection of a "Home Depot" in the bus window. A moment later, he had the location of a Home Depot on Merrick Boulevard. In Queens. Deep into Queens.   Deep in Anarch Territory.   This was getting more dangerous by the minute.   But we had no choice. This was the only lead we had to finding Gallahan.   The drive passed mostly in silence. Vincent was a stranger and I didn't trust him. I didn't want to talk too much with him around. We parked at the Home Depot, and walked inside.   The Storage shop unit looked a little retro. Like it had been built a long time ago, maintained, but not updated. The only person around was the receptionist, a young man. Martin and James talked and distracted while I tried to hear his heart. The steady drum marked him as a mortal, more or less. It wasn't foolproof, the Blush of Life kept the heart going, and someone working the front desk would probably keep their heart beating.   Still, it was the best we had as identification at the moment. Mona had told me some about sensing the beast in other Kindred. All I heard was thump-thump.   James and Martin got the clerk to show us around the building, while Vincent and I peeled off to look for clues.   I had been burned twice before. The first time with Fairweather's ward, and then with the ghosts at the Metro Theater. Burned because I couldn't see the hidden world. The invisible world. I didn't have a talent for magic, I didn't have a talent for much of anything but beating people up. But still, the blood listened, I drew in the power inside me, the lines of ancient might. A Waelkyrige had to hunt, to find, to spot.   I opened my third eye, and I saw the world without secrets. Without deception.   And there it was. A simple storage door with a powerful lock and a glowing sigil. I didn't know what it was, I simply knew it was power. Blood magic.   We didn't have the means or the moonlight to open it at this time.   And so, we returned to the front, Martin and James soon followed after, and we left. We would meet up tomorrow and continue the attack. I sent Coco with a letter to Mona, asking if she knew any Tremere we could borrow, a mage could certainly open that door.    

Saturday, 25th of November, 2023

After the usual twilight rutine, I headed to meet Mona at her spot in Dyker Beach Park. She had brought Maria, Leon's pet Tremere with her. I explained the situation as best I could, and promised Maria a favour if she helped us. I brought her with me to Upstairs, and introduced her to Vincent.   They talked for a bit, and she called him a Voidborn. Another piece of the puzzle. I'm still no closer to figuring out what he is, or what kind of vampire he is. We drove to the storage unit, and got to work.   We split up, James and Martin distracted the lone guard, Vincent took out the computer systems, and Maria and I went to break the ward. All went as planned, the guard was properly distracted, the computer was properly destroyed and Maria destroyed the ward.   It was only when I broke the lock, a heavy duty one, that things started going bad. The security guard heard the lock, and moved to investigate. James, Martin and Vincent managed to subdue him, with some cost to themselves.   Maria and I started looking through the storage unit, trying our best to find some clue to the Primogen's whereabouts. We found a chest, a long chest, long enough to put a person in. An ordinary chest, with a highly warded lock. A skillfully warded lock.   Trouble soon continued as two men entered the building. Pale men, one gaunt and casually dressed, the other wild and thugish. Vincent kept watch and suspected their kindredness instantly.   After talking for a few minutes, the Gangrel attacked, tearing into Vincent with teeth and claws. And the gaunt drew a pistol. We rushed towards them, and I attacked the gunman along with James, while Martin fired upon the Gangrel.   The fight was short and vicious. I was profusely hurt and Vincent was knocked into torpor. With so many bodies to hide, we decided to pack the two kindred, the guard and Vincent in boxes and hid them in the car. We put the chest with the lock on it on the roof of the car.   In our hurry to get away, we didn't plan a meetup, we simply split up, me and Martin taking the car, while James and Maria vanished into the dark.   We met some police on the way towards the Wingate Hotel. Martin cleverly lies, and gets us past without trouble. Up in the Bronx, we hide the bodies in the Malkavian secret underground storage. The plan is to interrogate the security guard about his involvment with the superantural, if he's already in the know, we don't have to kill him. We can turn the two anarch's over to the Sheriff, and he can deal with them.   The night's final event was a trip to try and slake my thrist. During the fight, I had burned my blood so much to try and win the fight as quickly as possible. My hunger was so great, the first drop of blood touched my tongue and I was lost to it. The Beast inside broke free and I fed. Oh, how I fed. I drank and I drank until there was nothing left.   Once more had I let the Beast take over. The words of my old pastor rang in my ears. "You are a human, a creature of reason. Do not let the beast inside you control your actions" I'd failed him, again. The shame and humiliation burned in me. Martin had tried to pull me away from it, tried to bring me back, but I was long gone. The blood, that delicious blood. I wanted to step into the sun and wash away my sins.   But my pack needed me, the police couldn't find a strange empty body. I wanted to hide him in the sewer, hide the body away where the rats would get it before the police could find him. Martin, however, seemed insistent that we dig him a grave, out in the woods of New Jersey. We barely managed to get back in time and slept in the Wingate hotel. I cried a lot before the sun rose and forced me to sleep. The wounds I bore would take a long time to heal.    

Sunday, 26th of November, 2023

Can you believe it? More stuff  

Monday, 27th of November, 2023

the epic conclusion, stuff and things