Friday August 1st, 2014

Day 1

Gary, Indiana

10:04 PM The Docks

Lucian stands on the docks, patiently waiting. All is quiet as the small but diligent crew unloads boxes from the ship. One man wheels a gurney with a large coffin on it down the rampway. As he arrives on the dock Lucian holds out a hand to stop the man.

"I'll take it from here." Lucian says. This is an old routine, and the crewman nods his head respectfully. Lucian approaches the coffin. As he opens it, nobody seems to notice around him. They are busy with their chores.

"Don't worry, you've made it safe and-" Lucian stops. The coffin is empy. Lucian gasps.

"Where is he? Where is-"

Everybody stops and turns towards the ship as the sound of a very loud motorcycle cranks up! Suddenly, the biggest Harley Davidson anybody's ever seen tears out of the ship and down the rampway.

Marshall Barry, huge, imposing, and wearing the classic leather jacket with Hell's Angel insignia plastered on across its back, guides the clearly-souped up cruiser down the ramp! Workers scatter! One of them leaps into the water!

Lucian growls at the huge biker, who barely stops in time before he hits the Elder Gangrel.

"The last thing you are supposed to be doing is drawing attention to yourself! And be careful of my men, damn it!"

Marshall Barry lights up a big, thick cigar, takes a long drag, and blows the smoke in Lucian's face. "Where's The Hotel."

Lucian is outraged. "Find it yourself." Marshall chuckles. "Oh. Tough guy, huh? Guess I'll just drive around the whole town. Gonna need gasoline for that, though. Got no money on me. Guess I'll just have to find lots of it and take that first. Yeah, it's still plenty early by my reckoning. And it will be a fucking reckoning, shitface."

Lucian frowns. Then he gives Marshall perfect directions to The Hotel. "Thanks, chumpstain. All my stuff better arrive safe and sound at the kook's warehouse."

Marshall Barry cranks up the Harley, drives off. Lucian stares after him, bewildered and on the verge of frenzy.

Lucian, the Gangrel Elder, oversees the safety of every Kindred that arrives via the Gary docks.

In return for safe passage, all competitors have agreed to not interfere with the docks, permanently.

Marshall Barry has arrived to participate in the Contest of Will. He is also a Gangrel Elder.

10:16 PM The Hotel

The sound of a Harley Davidson cruising through the dark streets of Gary, Indiana is not an ordinary one. The gangs here are, for the most part, all on foot. And the people that do have motorcycles certainly don't have a custom-made Harley. It is loud by design. When the Hell's Angels, even one, rides through your town, he wants you to know it.

Marshall wonders if he should have left his trunk full of his clothes and other possessions behind. Supposedly there would have been a car waiting for him. Might have been that nice town car he saw parked near the ramp. Well, that guy will handle his stuff. If it doesn't arrive safe and sound within the hour, there will surely be a ghoul or some other lackey that can go on over there and get it for him.

Marshall rides up to The Hotel. He snorts when he sees it. The building is large, that's for sure. Plenty of space. But it's not a hotel. It's a converted...what? Warehouse? Something. Oh well. He's more concerned that, for a Camarilla outpost set up by a Malkavian elder, there doesn't look to be any kind of real defense system in place.

In fact, it looks downright dirty. Maybe this isn't what it appears to be. Maybe it's some kind of trap. He pulls around to the back and finds the small, closed in abandoned parking lot, and shuts down his ride.

He steps off and shakes his head. "This place is a shit hole."

"Indeed." A deep, sultry voice with a Russian accent purrs from the shadows.

Marshall draws his Remington 870 pump-action shotgun from its holster on the Harley and aims indecisively at the shadow, which parts, to reveal the most beautiful woman he's ever seen.

Tall, lanky, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, with a completely symmetrical face and all the right curves in all the right places in all the most sinful ways. And never mind the outfit. A completely form-fitting, skin-hugging red body suit with a black leather vest over it.

He turns the muzzle of the shotgun so it no longer faces her.

"A Toreador?" Marshall asks, though his mind races. This is danger, his instincts scream. She struts forward, and some of the shadow struts with her. She laughs.

"Oh shit. Sabbat!" He raises the shotgun again. It flies from his hands as a tentacle made of pure shadow hits it. Katarina Novoskyatin calmly struts towards him, leans in, whispers. "Oradea League. We do not, how do you Americans say it...rub thumbs?"

Marshall's eyes cross. He's never heard that expression before. Cause, uh, no one has.

"We do not rub thumbs with the Sabbat. We do not like them, these loud crazy fools. Although I do hope they find your clan founder and kill him."

"What's the Oradea League doin' in Gary?"

"It's just me. And I'm just like you. Invited by Mr. Confetti. I'm here to play the game."

Her shadows release the massive Gangrel. "What are you, Lasombra? Or the other one?"

She struts towards the back entrance. "Yes. The other one. Though I did manage to learn that Lasombra discipline of Obtenebration. Quite useful as you see."

She pushes through the doors. Marshall retrieves his shotgun. He is about to holster it in its place on his Harley Davidson, then thinks again, and brings it with him.

Katarina Novoskytin has arrived to participate in the Contest of Will

10:21 PM Lobby - The Hotel

Katarina enters The Hotel, and the first thing that strikes her is the smell. Human beings of course, have excellent nostrils. But many Kindred have the ability to heighten their senses. In most circumstances that is a huge advantage. They can hear the heartbeat of a potential food source a mile away. Their sight, tactile abilities, even fight-and-flee instinct are all honed to a razor’s edge as their senses are energized by their strange, vampiric powers.

But sometimes heightened senses can be turned against the one who has them. The pungent aroma is not as bad as a sewer. There is no decaying dung or rotting feces. It is not quite that bad. But it is only a single step above that. The smell that stands out to her the most is a smell that she can’t identify, because she doesn’t recognize it at all.

“Ugh. What…is that?”

Marshall Barry, moving slowly behind her, Remington shotgun at the ready, wrinkles his nose. “Mildew. This place is old. Hasn’t been used in a long time.”

“Then…Mr. Confetti’s hotel…”

Marshall Barry looks around the room. There is indeed a counter and behind it, attached to the wall, is a shelving unit filled with little square cubbies. “I don’t know. Might be a trap. I’m Marshall, by the way.”

“Katarina.” As she says it, two black, inky tentacles swarm from her, one from each arm. They say nothing else. It is possible that they have each been lured into a trap of some kind.

Marshall slowly makes his way over to an elevator and hits the button. Nothing. No power. “Yeah. This ain’t right, for sure.” Katarina’s eyes narrow. “Perhaps we should just leave.” Marshall shakes his head. “If someone’s coming after you, they’ll keep coming. Might as well see who invited us.”

“If it’s a trap and we walk right into it, well, that’s just stupidity on our part.”

“Sister, there’s two of us. Don’t know you, but my instincts tell me you aren’t the problem here. So, I’d rather stupidly walk into the trap with you then be ambushed somewhere else by myself without you.”

Katarina considered that logic, and quietly nodded her head. She had come a long way. Romania. She didn’t know the terrain. She didn’t know any of the people. The adversary would have a significant advantage. She didn’t have any enemies, but the League as a whole? Plenty of them. She’d been lured out, fooled, as if she were the weakest link in the fence. An odorous offense. She would have to show someone that she wasn’t the weak link of anything.

“Up the stairs then, or do we simply wait here?”

Marshall Barry was already heading for the stairwell. “We go up. But we go slow.”

10:24 The Hotel - First Floor Stairwell

Katarina followed Marshall's lead, willing to stand behind this massive, obviously powerful man. Holding him outside was like trying to contain a bear. She had surprised him, but he had also surprised her with his raw animalistic grit. Part of the reason she let him go so quickly out there, despite knowing nothing about him except he was huge, bore a strange symbol on his jacket that looked dangerous, and held a firearm that could clearly blast even Kindred to smithereens, was that she didn’t want him to know how close he was coming to busting free himself. It had been a huge gambit, but Katarina Novoskytin was an extremely intelligent woman. A scientist, in fact, she was able to quickly analyze a circumstance and determine the statistical odds of her own survival given various choices. Up until today this had been all theoretical, though. Her sire, and other members of the League, had put her in various scenarios throughout her training, which had never really ended, in which she had to intellectually work her way out of dangerous problems. In the few instances that she failed, she was merely scolded. The exercises were exactly that – she was in no actual physical danger.

She had put herself in the thick of it today. If she were human, adrenaline would be kicking in, sweat would be dripping from every pore, her heartrate would be thumping in her chest and her heartrate would be racing. Her libido might even be near-exploding. None of that was happening, though, because her body had died some time ago. Instead she coldly calculated and listened for any sound that might constitute a threat. Any sound at all.

And that is why she heard it. A light footfall. It was coming from the stairwell above them, but it was headed in their direction. “Barry.” She whispered. He held up his left hand, his right gripping the Remington, and merely nodded a few times. He heard it too. He then raises the gun and aimed as they stopped. He knelt to one knee. When anything game around the corner, he, she, or it would end up on the first-floor landing, right in the middle of his sights.

She readied herself for the same move she had used against Marshall. It would be more effective now. She could hold whoever was coming in place, and if need be, he could blast that individual into bite-sized pieces. They were no longer walking into a trap. They had now set one.

A tall, thin man with brown hair walked nonchalantly onto the landing. He was holding a box. His eyes got wide as saucers as he turned the corner and saw the pair of them. They could see he was dressed in a classic red and black hotel employee uniform. “Oh.” He muttered momentarily. Then he grinned brightly. “Oh! Welcome to the Hotel! I am so sorry that I was not at my post at the counter to greet you. I’m Jeeps. Let’s go back to the lobby so I can get your room keys and we can get you started.”

Marshall Barry was struck by how quickly the man had recovered upon encountering him and Katarina on the landing. He was not Kindred. He was also not a normal human being. “What the fuck is all of this?” Marshall wanted to know.

Jeeps merely blinked at him. “But, sir, you already know. This…is the Contest of Will.”

Katarina grimaced at him. “Fine. But why is this place so…filthy? It is disgusting.”

Jeeps sighed, exasperated. “I know. I wanted to scrub down and clean every inch. But he wouldn’t let me. Said it was all part of the contest. I’ve learned not to argue about such things.” Jeeps shrugs.

“He?” Katarina inquired, intending a thorough investigation. But Marshall took the shotgun off of the man and walked past her and down the stairs. “He means Mr. Confetti. We’re in the right place.”

Jeeps smiled at her and followed the Gangrel elder. She gazed at the contents of the box as he passed her and discovered it was full of pillow cases.

The sight of them caused the last of her worries to fade. Though she had already resolved not to let her guard down. Perhaps this place was exactly what it seemed. That didn’t make it safe here. There would be other Elder Kindred. If they weren’t here already, they would be. And they would be competing against each other. And the town…Gary…had looked like a war zone to her. She had been brought up in a special place. A secret place. A haven of such rare beauty and elegance that she had thought that the rest of the world must also be beautiful. Now she knew the truth. She had been hidden away from what the rest of the world was like. Her scientific curiosity was already getting the best of her. She looked up the stairs and wanted to explore every nook and cranny of it. But first, she needed to get her room key.

Jeeps is here to make everybody's life easier! But who is he, really?

The Contestants will be staying at The Hotel. But, it is clearly not a hotel.

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