laclongquan
Arcane
It's no fun if the joke get spelt out. And no, i dont think that linked to samedi magic or stuffs.
-
Welcome to rpgcodex.net, a site dedicated to discussing computer based role-playing games in a free and open fashion. We're less strict than other forums, but please refer to the rules.
"This message is awaiting moderator approval": All new users must pass through our moderation queue before they will be able to post normally. Until your account has "passed" your posts will only be visible to yourself (and moderators) until they are approved. Give us a week to get around to approving / deleting / ignoring your mundane opinion on crap before hassling us about it. Once you have passed the moderation period (think of it as a test), you will be able to post normally, just like all the other retards.
Let's Play VtM: Wild Nights - Chapter 10
- Thread starter grotsnik
- Start date
Esquilax
Arcane
- Joined
- Dec 7, 2010
- Messages
- 4,833
laclongquan said:
You're right. I think it's linked to THE VASE. Only once we fill the vase to the brim with urine can we unlock its full potential. I vote D: Steal the cup of urine, ally with Sommers, transfer said urine from cup to vase, unlocking its true potential. Nothing can go wrong.
@ Bob: I was wrong. Fowlesworth is a slimy shit and he's so desperate for respect he'll probably sell us out first chance we get. We should have backed Argyll. Father Nick is a wild card; he's clearly repulsed by the stifling nature of the Tremere Pyramid, which is the real reason he would never want to be Embraced, but it's hard to trust any ghoul who isn't your own.
Could we possibly get someone else to help kill this person? Maybe have Fowlesworth join us and use him as bait? I dunno, he seems like a giant pussy and a shut-in to boot, so I don't think he'll even leave the Chantry. I'm probably overthinking it.
Excidium
P. banal
Esquilax said:
Azael
Magister
Just going to add a quick vote for A
MURDER, DEATH, KILL!
MURDER, DEATH, KILL!
laclongquan
Arcane
Esquilax said:
Now who is getting obsessed with the Vase here? Get a grasp of yourself.
laclongquan said:
You wouldn't recognise sarcasm if it jumped you from the bushes and kicked you in the arse
Esquilax
Arcane
- Joined
- Dec 7, 2010
- Messages
- 4,833
Who's being sarcastic? I haven't even unveiled the full extent of my plan. After Joan allies with Sommers (with urine cup and vase in tow, of course), to fully unleash the powers of the vase, we first need to take a big shit inside it and mix it in with the urine already in place. Since vamps can't poop, Sommers' ghoul squad will do so - perhaps we'll get them burritos or Indian food before they do this. Then after they're done taking the biggest dump of their lives, we'll join with Eddie, Tony and Erika and mix our collective blood inside the urine/feces mix already within the vase and take part in a special VAULDERIE.
Finally, and believe me, this is the MOST important step - we videotape all of this and release a videotape on the Internet called "4 Vamps, 1 Vase". After this, the vase's might will be fully unleashed and we'll become as powerful as Antediluvians.
How 'bout it, bros?!
Finally, and believe me, this is the MOST important step - we videotape all of this and release a videotape on the Internet called "4 Vamps, 1 Vase". After this, the vase's might will be fully unleashed and we'll become as powerful as Antediluvians.
How 'bout it, bros?!
I doubt Hob (who's clearly inside th VASE, remember?) will appreciate being poo'd over...
That risk aside, the plan is brilliant
That risk aside, the plan is brilliant
laclongquan
Arcane
Nice tries! Too bad it doesnt work.
Bah Humbug!
EDIT: And Storyfag, you dont recognize counter-sarcasm especially when it blow softly into your ears.
Bah Humbug!
EDIT: And Storyfag, you dont recognize counter-sarcasm especially when it blow softly into your ears.
laclongquan
Arcane
wherezzz mah updatan, grotbro?
Azael
Magister
laclongquan said:
Christ, I swear half the thread is full of either your bizarre ramblings or your petulant "Please Sir, can I have some more?".
laclongquan
Arcane
Vakashun? Whoot a strange konsept!
grotsnik
Arcane
- Joined
- Jul 11, 2010
- Messages
- 1,671
Afraid this one's shorter than I'd like; I got back from holiday to find my replacement at work had pretty much fucked everything up, meaning I have to go over everything he's done. Good times. Anyway, hopefully people will like the choice.
Chapter 6 - Just The Right Bullets
A pale electric light twitches, in the darkness.
And then, in a great rush, the bar-lights above flooding into existence one after the other, the colossal basement ignites.
Robert Griddle steps into the vault, his footsteps echoing beneath him.
He gazes over the great rows of glistening black metal with interest. Each machine has a weight and a power to its jaws, and a precision and intricacy to its innermost workings.
His little hand brushes up against the thick roller of the nearest press.
"The ultimate urban predators," he says, and smiles to himself. "How long before they'll be ready, Catherine?"
Behind him, the ghoul shrugs.
"Couple of nights of solid work," she says. "If any of the parts need replacing, a couple of weeks. But these 'uns are reliable, generally speaking. Shouldn't think they'll give me any trouble."
She hesitates before adding,
"You know, boss, I've got contacts at the New Statesman still. We could always borrow their presses for the night. It'd take half as long-"
"No," Griddle says, without turning. "No, I don't want this to be traced back to us. I don't want them to be able to prove a thing. Besides which...these were the presses we used, before the reporters fled from Fleet Street, to bring down John Profumo and Yevgeny Ivanov, and to shame Lady Anne. They have...symbolic significance."
He checks his watch.
"The nights keep getting shorter," he continues, not without a certain anticipatory relish, "and we're running out of time. Get the presses ready to go, Catherine - I'll have the neonates start bringing in the paper in vanloads. We need to be ready for distribution by the end of the week. We're going hunting...and our game is more powerful than us, more dangerous than us, and has everything to lose. It must not be allowed to catch our scent."
*
The vast Charlotte Towers apartment block embarrasses the skyline of Gipsy Hill, which is itself leafy and rather flat, filled on all sides with the small red-bricked semi-detached homes that would have been part of a picturesque suburban dream before London rolled out and swallowed them.
The wide road is empty; you stroll up the middle of it, keeping your hood raised across your face, your eyes fixed on the high-rise. Far above, a light is gleaming.
“Just a woman,” Osazema said. His shark-teeth grinned. “Not a hunter, not a ghoul. A woman. A...how do we say it? A trident in my side. Her only danger, her only threat, is that she may break the Lie.”
“The Lie,” you replied, trying to hold his gaze. “You mean the Masquerade?”
“Just that, daughter,” he said. “Just that. What – you do not believe that I am a patriot? No, no…better not to answer. This old fool is teasing you. Come back another night, when it’s done…and I’ll have your bug, daughter, yes.”
He slid something black and metallic, wrapped in cellophane, across the workbench.
“In case you’re squeamish, daughter,” he told you, and laughed. The chickens, hearing his voice raised, went frantic, dashing their heads against the iron grilles of their cages, shrieking in ecstasy.
A drab children's play-park, set in concrete, stands on the roadside. The knee-high railings are easy enough to vault over.
You sit on the swings, casually, and stare up towards the angular monstrosity. In the lit window, high above, a woman is leaning against the wall, gazing out across the city, clad in a silk dressing gown that hangs open loosely at the front. She's young, and tan-skinned; of mixed-race, perhaps an Indian.
She turns, suddenly, as if somebody's called to her from within.
Then she draws the curtains, and disappears from view.
"She'll be up," Osazema had said. "Likes to work through the night. Like you and I, eh, daughter?"
A light flickers on, briefly, in the adjoining window. The drapes are, you notice, colourfully decorated with red balloons. There are children in this woman's apartment.
The light snaps off once again; and the apartment is consumed in darkness.
How do you want to go about this?
A) Go in with the gun. I can fake a robbery.
B) Try to lure her out of the apartment; she can be dealt with quietly in the play-park.
C) Start a fire, or an explosion - maybe turn the gas on in the apartment and leave. This needs to look like an accident.
D) This needs to be done in the Sabbat style. Why bother hiding? I'll kill everyone in the apartment - with my bare hands, if I have to. I'm no Brujah, but I'm a Kindred, at least.
E) Osazema didn't specifically say that she had to die; if I can only talk to her, perhaps I can convince her to leave London.
F) I can't do this. I'll find another way.
Chapter 6 - Just The Right Bullets
A pale electric light twitches, in the darkness.
And then, in a great rush, the bar-lights above flooding into existence one after the other, the colossal basement ignites.
Robert Griddle steps into the vault, his footsteps echoing beneath him.
He gazes over the great rows of glistening black metal with interest. Each machine has a weight and a power to its jaws, and a precision and intricacy to its innermost workings.
His little hand brushes up against the thick roller of the nearest press.
"The ultimate urban predators," he says, and smiles to himself. "How long before they'll be ready, Catherine?"
Behind him, the ghoul shrugs.
"Couple of nights of solid work," she says. "If any of the parts need replacing, a couple of weeks. But these 'uns are reliable, generally speaking. Shouldn't think they'll give me any trouble."
She hesitates before adding,
"You know, boss, I've got contacts at the New Statesman still. We could always borrow their presses for the night. It'd take half as long-"
"No," Griddle says, without turning. "No, I don't want this to be traced back to us. I don't want them to be able to prove a thing. Besides which...these were the presses we used, before the reporters fled from Fleet Street, to bring down John Profumo and Yevgeny Ivanov, and to shame Lady Anne. They have...symbolic significance."
He checks his watch.
"The nights keep getting shorter," he continues, not without a certain anticipatory relish, "and we're running out of time. Get the presses ready to go, Catherine - I'll have the neonates start bringing in the paper in vanloads. We need to be ready for distribution by the end of the week. We're going hunting...and our game is more powerful than us, more dangerous than us, and has everything to lose. It must not be allowed to catch our scent."
*
The vast Charlotte Towers apartment block embarrasses the skyline of Gipsy Hill, which is itself leafy and rather flat, filled on all sides with the small red-bricked semi-detached homes that would have been part of a picturesque suburban dream before London rolled out and swallowed them.
The wide road is empty; you stroll up the middle of it, keeping your hood raised across your face, your eyes fixed on the high-rise. Far above, a light is gleaming.
“Just a woman,” Osazema said. His shark-teeth grinned. “Not a hunter, not a ghoul. A woman. A...how do we say it? A trident in my side. Her only danger, her only threat, is that she may break the Lie.”
“The Lie,” you replied, trying to hold his gaze. “You mean the Masquerade?”
“Just that, daughter,” he said. “Just that. What – you do not believe that I am a patriot? No, no…better not to answer. This old fool is teasing you. Come back another night, when it’s done…and I’ll have your bug, daughter, yes.”
He slid something black and metallic, wrapped in cellophane, across the workbench.
“In case you’re squeamish, daughter,” he told you, and laughed. The chickens, hearing his voice raised, went frantic, dashing their heads against the iron grilles of their cages, shrieking in ecstasy.
A drab children's play-park, set in concrete, stands on the roadside. The knee-high railings are easy enough to vault over.
You sit on the swings, casually, and stare up towards the angular monstrosity. In the lit window, high above, a woman is leaning against the wall, gazing out across the city, clad in a silk dressing gown that hangs open loosely at the front. She's young, and tan-skinned; of mixed-race, perhaps an Indian.
She turns, suddenly, as if somebody's called to her from within.
Then she draws the curtains, and disappears from view.
"She'll be up," Osazema had said. "Likes to work through the night. Like you and I, eh, daughter?"
A light flickers on, briefly, in the adjoining window. The drapes are, you notice, colourfully decorated with red balloons. There are children in this woman's apartment.
The light snaps off once again; and the apartment is consumed in darkness.
How do you want to go about this?
A) Go in with the gun. I can fake a robbery.
B) Try to lure her out of the apartment; she can be dealt with quietly in the play-park.
C) Start a fire, or an explosion - maybe turn the gas on in the apartment and leave. This needs to look like an accident.
D) This needs to be done in the Sabbat style. Why bother hiding? I'll kill everyone in the apartment - with my bare hands, if I have to. I'm no Brujah, but I'm a Kindred, at least.
E) Osazema didn't specifically say that she had to die; if I can only talk to her, perhaps I can convince her to leave London.
F) I can't do this. I'll find another way.
Depending on our Dominate rating, I'm tempted to go with E. But I'm not sure we could pull it off even then. We're a mage not a manipulator like Anthony. So, for the moment, C. Too bad we didn't learn the Lure of Flames back when we could...
Excidium
P. banal
True, setting fire in the apartment would be so much simpler. Would be quite a hit to Joan's humanity though...Storyfag said:
laclongquan
Arcane
Tsk! talk like a dumb Brujah.
Why waste the efforts to kill her if it's unneeded? Why risk the violence, the scrutiny this kind of atrocity will attract? Are we not a Tremere, tricky little devil?
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE of course
The man did not spell out that she have to die, so we do the talking and scare her half out of her life. The scare will be especially effective when she has children in the flat. Frighten her into escaping out of London this night and never ever talk of this ever again. Plus we can find out what she know and what she plan to do. Info gathering, that's our work's description.
On another note, it seem Eames' days are numbered. When Robert launch his media blitz she will be attacked from all sides. A civil war may explode from this.
Why waste the efforts to kill her if it's unneeded? Why risk the violence, the scrutiny this kind of atrocity will attract? Are we not a Tremere, tricky little devil?
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE of course
The man did not spell out that she have to die, so we do the talking and scare her half out of her life. The scare will be especially effective when she has children in the flat. Frighten her into escaping out of London this night and never ever talk of this ever again. Plus we can find out what she know and what she plan to do. Info gathering, that's our work's description.
On another note, it seem Eames' days are numbered. When Robert launch his media blitz she will be attacked from all sides. A civil war may explode from this.
Excidium
P. banal
Esquilax
Arcane
- Joined
- Dec 7, 2010
- Messages
- 4,833
Awesome! Sorry to hear about you getting a pile of work to deal with, grot, hopefully you had a nice vacation at least.
Anyways, down to business. Convince her to leave town? Are you guys fucked? This isn't a job for halfway crooks. If you weren't prepared to kill her, you shouldn't have taken the job in the first place. It's best to avoid killing the children if we can help it, but I'm shocked that everyone is pussing out when it's time to act. Osazema has a problem - he wants this problem to go away. Killing her is the only way to be sure. We had a deal with the man.
Now, I'm not saying we should go in there and carve everyone up with our bare hands, but she needs to die without attracting attention, at least. The best way to this is with C, making it look like an accident. The collateral damage is regrettable, but fuck it, we've got a job to do.
However, if you guys want to be pussies, we can lure her out via DOMINATE. Take her somewhere where she won't be seen, like an alley, and shoot her.
Voting B. She has to die.
Anyways, down to business. Convince her to leave town? Are you guys fucked? This isn't a job for halfway crooks. If you weren't prepared to kill her, you shouldn't have taken the job in the first place. It's best to avoid killing the children if we can help it, but I'm shocked that everyone is pussing out when it's time to act. Osazema has a problem - he wants this problem to go away. Killing her is the only way to be sure. We had a deal with the man.
Now, I'm not saying we should go in there and carve everyone up with our bare hands, but she needs to die without attracting attention, at least. The best way to this is with C, making it look like an accident. The collateral damage is regrettable, but fuck it, we've got a job to do.
However, if you guys want to be pussies, we can lure her out via DOMINATE. Take her somewhere where she won't be seen, like an alley, and shoot her.
Voting B. She has to die.
Breaking Axe
Educated
- Joined
- Mar 30, 2011
- Messages
- 176
B seems like it has the least personal risk, compared to the other options. It's likely the apartment complex has security cameras, it'd do Joan no good to end up on the nightly news.
Why do you guys care if it looks like an accident or not? The kine won't be able to form any kind of motive that leads to Joan in any way.
Why do you guys care if it looks like an accident or not? The kine won't be able to form any kind of motive that leads to Joan in any way.
Azael
Magister
I'm with Esquilax here, it will do us no good to flippity flop here, we're on a murderous path now and best follow it.
Don't see a reason for C though and I doubt that Joan is cunning enough to mask it as an accident. We have a gun, let's put it to use.
Either A or B, not quite decided yet.
Don't see a reason for C though and I doubt that Joan is cunning enough to mask it as an accident. We have a gun, let's put it to use.
Either A or B, not quite decided yet.
As an Amazon Associate, rpgcodex.net earns from qualifying purchases.