#it involves her being smacked in the head by the Sabbat

[victorluvsalice]

Oh hey, remember when I wrote that story about Alice becoming the Malkavian Fledgling in Vampire: the Masquerade -- Bloodlines and doing all the Santa Monica missions in her snarky, snarky way?

Here's the first chapter of the sequel. :p Enjoy!

[badass-at-fandoming]

Just Little Malkavian Things ~

Malkavians these days can do nothing but de-conceptualize, Dement, eat hot chip, and lie.

Since people seemed to enjoy the #JustLittleVentrueThings VTMB adventure, here's a matching Malkavian one. Though I'm gonna be real with ya here, I had less fun D:

I finally figured out why I have such trouble wrapping my head around depictions of Malkavians in VTM media. Books, Storytellers, and fans say it's like having a mental illness and being linked to a massive group chat. But, listen, I've lived around and with mental illness all my life. I've been in massive group chats. Being Malkavian ain't like that.

It IS like being an early-twenties English major in the midst of an existential crisis, over-worked and cross-faded outta your skull and watching horror movies to Cope(TM)

So it's like drugs. It's like you had too much weed and too much wine and are let loose on Los Angeles. Which. My friends and I have and we, coincidentally, also "fought" a stop sign. The Malkavian PC never really seemed like a character to me: she's like a collection of cliches and dude-bros doing blunts while watching slasher movies. I named her Liotta after the Psychic Shop owner, and I'm sad Liotta didn't really get to be a person.

I wasn't surprised by any of the dialog. It's a pattern. Alliteration, allusion, animal joke. Alliteration, allusion, animal joke. It lost its charm.

Often, I didn't know what the FUCK I was saying. Which is the Malkavian Experience(TM), according to Rosa.

Anyway

Nonsense time

Most characters have an extra paragraph of dialog to Acknowledge That You Are A Malkavian. Some get an extra conversation branch. For example, there's lots of new Bertie dialog and he was all impressed Liotta knows about Gehenna and Thin-bloods <3. The Anarchs characters, especially Skelter, get a lot more. Skelter, Ash, and Liotta totally vibe.

If you sneak around the Santa Monica drug house, they talk about Mercurio?? Hello?? Mercurio, you bent Masquerade by not getting beat up real good.

Zero pretense about Voerman. Yes, I have DID; yes, I am making it your problem.

When Liotta talked to Beckett, he said the DID was "something to look forward to." Goddamnit, Beckett. That's not how the Bane or mental illness works! >:-(

I've never sneaked before!!! Did you know that the Tong AND the American gang downtown have fakes in their suitcases??? Like, Full On, "it's just stuffed with newspapers, brah." They were going to kill each other over newspapers. For some reason the Tong brought the REAL suitcase along too, but I'm so past having VTM make any sort of sense. It's fine.

Accidentally pissed off Nines. I meant farmer (affectionate) and Nines thought I meant farmer (derogatory). :(

The Dementation powers are (a) pretty purple loop-de-loops, (b) not as effective as Dominate (reaaaallyyy missed a good AOE attack), and (c) oddly enough, gave more compassionate dialog choices. I mean. In the pen-and-paper version, Dementation isn't conflict-focused, so the devs had to jigger it to use as attacks. But I was touched when Liotta made Hannah believe she was Paul, so Hannah got to say goodbye. Making Samantha believe Liotta was a pet turtle was funny and spared her the pain of her friend vanishing a second time. Heather thinks her entire experience was a dream and returns to her life, more or less unscathed.

Boris?? Asked Liotta to kill Venus for him???? DUDE, WHAT. I didn't know he could counter-offer!! What happens if you take up his offer? Who controls Confession? Does it close down??

Pro Tip: don't trust the pale woman in a cowboy stripper outfit who comes out of your vent and tells you everything's fine.

I went through an ENTIRE Ventrue playthrough without puking and Liotta ate one (1) unhoused person and blew chunks. I didn't realize Diseased Blood was a threat. What happens if you skip the Plague-bearer quest? Should you just never chomp on the Downtown unhoused community?

Strauss called Liotta "young one" and I was like, sir. You're not Beckett, you can't trick me.

A rat dances in the Downtown sewers and tells Liotta that the grass is greener in someone else's asshole.

And also will take you places.

Do you know what it's like for a Capri Sun to suddenly start speaking and offer taxi services.

LaCroix: how did Bach find me??? also LaCroix: [names his company after himself] [lives in Ventrue Tower]

Liotta told Beckett that Kindred are a joke and I got extra EXP for being so sneaky.

DMP produced snuff films even before Andrei???!!!! I thought all the blood was from the lil geo-dudes.

Liotta agreed with Andrei that Caine is here and boot-scooting around in his lil Angst Mobile. :D

As bad as Liotta was in group fights, she repeatedly made bosses cower and stand quietly while she beat them to death. Andrei had a full on lay-on-the-floor temper tantrum in his war form and Liotta just. Smacked him until he exploded. She didn't even take damage!

Imalia's computer password is ALSO "cleopatra." Just like Tawni's! Dual reference to the Embrace type

IDK why I never asked this before, but, um, who does Mitnick share the bunk bed with? Barabus..?

I went back to the Empire Hotel Penthouse suite to fetch the educational book and the Russian mob dudes were still there?? Hello, sirs, your leader is dead. You can leave now.

Liotta heard the real thoughts of the Red Dragon hostess...and also some debate about the Dark Father's presence in LA, heehee.

I thought it was fun that one of the "take me away, Cabbie!" taxi replies mentioned riding in a car like father and child. :D

"Why is the Mandarin giggling at me" is a sentence that came out of my face.

With the different dialog options, sometimes it's impossible to be polite to NPCs. For example: Liotta could only call VV "dolly/doll/toy doll" instead of her preferred names; the Chinatown gun seller felt frightened, thinking we were Police or Immigration.

Some great fourth wall breaks in the dialog: "I don't want to get involved either, but tell that to whoever is playing me!" to Beckett after the Giovanni Mansion.

"You can't spell success without whatever the hell my name is."

"If I cannot win with effort, I will cheat my way to victory. I am gone." Funnily enough, this was my first run where I didn't hack in to boost stats.

"I just want it to end. I feel like I've been playing forever."

Some nice wider lore references: "I devour knowledge like the great worm devours the corpse of society" could refer to how Salout, in tapeworm form, is devouring Tremere's body and destabilizing the Clan and/or Kindred night society.

"They should have a channel devoted to you in my head" to Beckett. In his Diary, Beckett witnesses Malkavians devouring Malkav and may or may not join the Cobweb (PS check out this great fanfic where he does).

This made me stare into space for a minute and question my life choices. During the Sabbat massacre, Liotta didn't snack on any of the blood doll ghouls (ya know, the ones with the eyes gouged out). She had such high Inspection + Finance that she had $4k in her wallet and could buy blood. I wanted to test a rumor that if you don't feed on the blood dolls, you get extra EXP. You do. BUT anywAY, right before the Tremere miniboss, Liotta was sword-fighting some goons and the blood doll...attacked him for her? Like. He moved on his own. When the goon was dead, the blood doll asked if Liotta was all right. This might have been a glitch but...the horrific implications that those men are still conscious, still willful, still feeling. ACK. I hope they got out the next morning.

RIP Ming Xiao. Flamethrower right to the tiddies.

I stole @ryttu3k's idea and noclipped through the werewolf section. Liotta still killed the Garou, but I didn't want the stress.

Caine is very Caine. "Don't you get it? We've already been judged!"

Liotta went Anarch because what little backstory I came up for her was she considered Smiling Jack her sire. Nines complimented her ability to murder.

Sheriff got sooooo dizzy that he fell over right onto Liotta's sword 27 times.

Dancing werewolf ending! Seemed fitting. :D

[welcometophu]

The Meaning of Home, Chapter 1

The Meaning of Home Chapter 1

Tags for all Welcome to PHU novels will be available at the PHU tag list on Pillowfort. This list is under construction as of Sept. 5, 2021.

[ First | Next ]

Even knowing that he’ll see him at the end of the trip, it’s strange for Pawel to be driving to his childhood home without Conor in the car. Usually his son would be requesting music changes, playing videos so loud that Pawel could hear them even with Conor’s headphones in place, or generally talking up a storm. Even after cranking the radio up to fill the silence, Pawel feels alone in a way he hasn’t felt in a long, long time.

He can’t blame it entirely on Conor. Yes, as a single father he hasn’t had much, if any, time to himself in the last nine years. But this past academic year has been chaos to the point where it seems strange not to have one of his students in the car as they head off to save the world.

Students, yes, but he’s not that much older than most of them. Some of them are friends as well.

Rest. Take the summer and rest.

The voice in his mind sounds suspiciously like Mac, and he hears Carolyn’s soft, aggravated huff not long after as she adds, Get normal amounts of sleep. Take a shower. Eat real food.

Spend time with your kid, imaginary Mac adds.

Great. He’s back to being that only child who used to have conversations with invisible friends, except now, as an adult, it’s advice about self-care from real people who aren’t even here.

The thing is, they’re not wrong. He knows he has a tendency to focus intently on the one most important thing at hand and tune out everything else. Since fall semester—for the first time in nine years—that wasn’t Conor, and he still feels guilty about that. He feels the kind of guilty that means there are two brand new games for Conor’s handheld system in a bag on the back seat, along with a cooler holding freshly butchered grass-fed bison steaks as a thank you for his father for helping him out.

Pawel exhales.

Maybe he’s having a little trouble letting go of the chaos. In a way, it felt good to be busy. To fix things.

They saved the world.

Nobody knows it, but it happened. And Pawel knows, so he should be satisfied with a job well-done.

The question is: what can he do now?

Rest.

For all that they’re imaginary, the voices of his students are right, and he knows this. It’s just hard to let it all go, to accept that the chaos has ended and he can do that. But he’s clean-shaven, and his hair is neatly trimmed, even if he didn’t go back to his buzz cut. He looks older in the mirror than he remembers being when the school year began. He might even look his age, which would go a long way to gaining respect from incoming freshmen in the fall.

He just needs something to do with himself while on vacation over the summer.

Maybe his old dojang would let him step into a taekwondo class or two while he’s visiting Dad. It’d be nice to be the student rather than the instructor for once.

You couldn’t let go of control that much.

“Shut up.” He says it as if imaginary Mac would even listen.

One song ends, and for a second, the silence in the car echoes before the next song begins.

This isn’t working.

He reaches out to touch the button on his radio dash for the phone, then presses Mac’s number from his contact list.

“Aren’t you with your family?” She starts speaking without bothering to greet him.

He adjusts the volume so that her voice isn’t quite so loud. “Hello to you, too. I’m almost there now. It’s quiet in the car. No Conor. Not even any grouchy almost adults grumbling about saving the world, or muttering about sparring.”

Mac snorts softly. “I’m only a few years younger than you, Pawel. And out of us all, Rory’s probably got the oldest soul. I take it you’re bored?”

“A little,” he admits. “Pels’s family moved into the house on Friday, then left for Burlington. As far as I know, everything’s gone well up there; they weren’t back before I left the house today. Anita’s got my number in case she needs anything for the house while they’re renting it out this summer. Traffic’s been decent, so I’m maybe fifteen minutes from my Dad’s house now, and the silence is killing me. How’s your summer break going?”

There’s a delay before Mac replies, and her voice sounds determinedly cheerful when she does. “It’s a break. I’m thinking about my research, and the fact that my advisor is in Italy until the end of June and told me I can’t work without him there. Which means Mom thought I should come home for a while, and right now things are… awkward… with me and Dad. So. There’s that.”

When Mac says it, Dad means Senator Delwin Palmer. Pawel knows what that meant to Mac as a part of a secret government training program for Talented children, before she came to PHU. He knows that everything they learned about the government involvement in the creation of the soul-destroying Shadows has only made her relationship with her stepfather more difficult.

He makes a small noise. “Are you going back to PHU soon?”

“Mid June, so I’ll be here about three weeks. I’m going to take my brother to the festival when Rory and Thorne are in DC in a couple of weeks, and I’m spending most of my time in the museums and libraries in DC until then.” She exhales. “I’ve thought about going to see my father, but I think that’ll be the weekend that I drive back up to PHU. I’ll just stop in to visit him in the city while he’s got some time off work.” Mac hesitates, her words more forceful when she asks, “How long are you planning on staying with your dad?”

Fine, Pawel will accept the change of topic, changing conversational directions at the same time as he takes the exit into town that will lead to his childhood home.

Sort of. It’s not the same house he grew up in, but it’s close to the same neighborhood.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I’m on leave for the summer. It’s not a sabbatical—they don’t do that for less than a year, and right now they won’t let me go for a whole year until the department has more experienced faculty. But it’s a paid leave and I’m supposedly researching my next book. The thing is, Dad doesn’t have a lot of space since he moved into the retirement community. I’m going to be crashing on his couch. Conor’s got the bed in the guest room.”

“Sounds great for your back.” Mac laughs. “You’ll probably still sleep better than you did for most of the spring.”

“Probably,” Pawel agrees. “I think—” He stops abruptly, because that makes it sound like he has a plan in place. “I’m going to play it by ear. Conor’s made friends there, although he’s clearly missing Alan and home, too. Everyone keeps telling me that I need to just stop trying to fix things and take a break. Including a voice in my head that sounds suspiciously like you.”

“Good to know my voice has infected your brain, like the way I hear yours saying ‘commit to the kick’ whenever I’m sparring and going for that head kick against a much taller opponent,” Mac says dryly.

“They’re all taller than you.” Pawel takes a series of turns, remembering to turn left instead of right at the critical intersection. He slows down; there’s no one else on the road behind him to annoy, and he’s not quite ready to arrive yet.

Mac sputters. “Rude.”

“True.”

“Fine. True,” she agrees. “Taekwondo is a sport for tall people. I’m just a good jumper, and before you say it, no, I’m not teleporting to get there. Most of the time.”

He rolls down the road towards a four-way stop. There’s a sign across the way proclaiming the entrance to Hart Acres. If he turned left, he could make his way to the police station where his dad works, and right would loop him back behind his old neighborhood.

Straight takes him into his dad’s new life in a retirement village where half the people who live there aren’t actually retired. His dad’s been living there for a year, and Pawel’s not sure when he’ll finally step down as Police Chief. He likes his work far too much to give it up.

Dad says it’s easier to keep working when he doesn’t have to worry about the little things like mowing the lawn. Hart Acres takes care of that for him.

Pawel’s pretty sure Dad’s going to work until he has both feet in the grave, and then he might just keep going.

“Hey.” Mac’s voice is low. “Did I lose you?”

Right. He was having a conversation.

“I’m just about there,” Pawel admits. “There’s an old lady walking her fluffy dog down the street. I guess I should hang up. Focus on finding the place and not hitting the two people that are in the middle of the road having a conversation.”

No exaggeration. Now that he’s pulled into Hart Acres and is following the first traffic circle he encounters around to the second exit, there are small knots of people gathered everywhere. Including two smack dab in the middle of one of the side streets.

They see him looking and lift their hands in cheerful synchronized waves.

“I am really not ready to see my dad as the kind of guy who needs to be surrounded by old people looking for a social life,” Pawel mutters. He makes a disgruntled noise when Mac snickers.

He’s in front of the house before he can say anything else.

“Go,” Mac says. “Hug Conor for me, and tell him to work hard. He’s still in school, right?”

“Another three weeks, yeah,” Pawel says. “I might take him out for a day on Friday to head up to Buffalo for Rory and Thorne’s tour, though. It’s a holiday weekend, so maybe the school has the day off—they do weird things with snow days sometimes. Although the weather was strange this winter and they might not have the extra days.”

“Nikki would apologize if you need her to,” Mac says. She’s quiet for a moment. “Hey. You really should take the time to rest. Let your dad be the parent for a little while. Enjoy being home, and with your family. You don’t have anything you need to save right now. The world isn’t ending. Just have fun for the summer.”

“Only if you promise me that you’ll rest, too,” he responds. He wants to say that he understands that it’s not that easy. He understands that talking to Delwin Palmer is going to be complicated, and that putting herself back in that environment only brings the PTSD out in full force. “You can always call me if you need someone to talk to.”

“I’ll let you know when I’m back in the area,” she says. “Maybe we can get together and spar. I’m taking a break from organized classes while I’m home.”

Her old dojang isn’t full of happy memories like Pawel’s is.

“Sure, we can do that.” He catches movement out of the corner of his eye; the door to his father’s unit nudges open. “Conor’s coming out. I need to go.”

“Bye, Pawel. Rest.”

“I will,” he promises.

The music blares for a moment after she hangs up; he turns the key and silences it. He manages to get out of the car as Conor races around it and slams into him, hugging him hard. Pawel wraps his arms around him, and exhales as he feels the familiar crackle of Conor’s magic around him.

“I missed you,” Pawel murmurs. His hand is between Conor’s shoulder-blades, and it feels higher than it used to rest in this same position. “Did you grow in the last two months?”

“An inch since he arrived.” Dad stands on the lawn next to a girl about Conor’s age that Pawel doesn’t recognize. Her mouth is pinched and her brows furrowed. She has her arms crossed tight across her chest as she leans forward, a myriad of braids falling forward across her shoulders and down her back. Dad puts a hand on her shoulder, and she straightens up, shoulders relaxing. “I started a growth door for him here. We’ll need to get a mark on it for you so he can see what he’s aiming for.”

There was a piece of trim in Pawel’s childhood house that had marks for every few months of his age, from toddlerhood to adulthood. He wonders if the new owners painted over the careful notes made in his mother’s hand, and the messier ones his father wrote after she passed away.

“I had Dziadziu put Emma on the door, too.” Conor slips from Pawel’s hold and grabs his hand, dragging him towards Dad and the girl who still watches warily. “This is Emma. She’s in my class, and she’s a Weather Witch, and she’s my friend. We’re both new here. She’s talked to Alan with me.”

“I know they’re married,” Emma says with a heavy sigh and an eyeroll. “Conor’s not my boyfriend. I don’t want a boyfriend.”

“You say that like people have been trying to tell you that you can’t be friends because you’re a boy and a girl.” Pawel stops in front of her and holds out his hand solemnly. “Hello, Emma. I’m Pawel. And don’t worry, I understand that most people are full of shit. Right now my best friend is a girl and I can assure you I have no romantic intentions towards her whatsoever. And if I did, she might kick me in the balls.”

Dad makes a strangled sound.

Emma tilts her head, brow still furrowed. “I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t say that people are full of shit.” She takes his hand and looks at their joined hands in some confusion, then drops it again. “But you’re right. They are. Come on, Conor.”

“I think you’d like Mac,” Conor says as he walks by Emma’s side and they disappear into the house. “She’s small but fierce. She used to be a gymnast and now she kicks ass.”

Pawel should say something, but he did just tell them that people are full of shit, so maybe he can cut him some slack for language this time.

“I did say that someday you’d be lucky enough to have a kid just like you,” Dad observes. “That said, Conor’s been a good kid while he’s been here. Getting good grades, getting his work done. He and Emma bonded straight off—her parents disappeared not long before you did, so they had something in common. Except, of course, you’re back and they’re not. She’s living with a foster family here.”

There are a dozen potential things wrong with everything Dad’s just said. Pawel rolls the thoughts around in his mind as he heads back to his car, opening the doors so that he and Dad can both take several things into the house. “Do they know she’s Talented?” he asks.

“You know where the guest room is.” Dad points through the living room and kitchenette to the small hall beyond. “Right at the end there. Just take Conor’s stuff down. We’ll put your things to the side in the living room for now.”

Conor pops his head out of his room just as Pawel arrives. “What do you mean for now? Aren’t we staying all summer? I thought we’d stay here all summer, Dad. Dziadziu said we could.”

There are times when Pawel wonders what their family looks like from the outside: three generations having three separate conversations in tangled instances, answering questions in random order. He can see where Emma sits on the bed, Conor’s tablet in her hands. She doesn’t seem concerned.

“I’m sleeping on the couch, Conor. We’ll stay in town, but we might need to get a hotel room. I’m going to need a bed eventually,” Pawel points out.

“I’ll move in with Emma. Her dads wouldn’t mind.”

“I don’t think they’d even notice,” Emma says dryly. “I like Conor better than Matt.”

“She has four foster siblings,” Conor stage whispers.

Emma looks up, gaze pinning him. “They aren’t my siblings. I’m an only child. We’re all just fosters in the same house, except Nevaeh and Jennie. I think they’re almost as good as adopted. Jennie doesn’t even remember her parents.”

For once, Pawel is the one getting whiplash from the swift turns in conversation.

“Is everyone Talented?” It’s the same question, asked a different way, and this time he throws it out there for anyone to answer. He drops the bag of Conor’s summer clothes on the bed, next to where Emma sits.

“Her dads are both Talented!” Conor bounces up onto the bed, almost knocking the suitcase off. “One’s Clan and one’s—”

“They aren’t my dads,” Emma snaps. She drops Conor’s tablet on the bed and stands up, her body shivering so hard that her braids shake. “My mom and dad are coming back. They aren’t my dads at all. I’m just staying there until—”

“My dad can find them.”

Emma’s mouth is slightly open, her voice a small squeak. “What?”

“My dad is really good at everything about Talented people. He’s an expert.” Conor nods quickly. “He’s so much an expert that he teaches people not to be stupid—uninformed,” he corrects himself, “about what it means to be Talented. He knows everything.”

“Not everything,” Pawel tries to stay, but Conor steamrolls over him.

“He just saved the world, and he’s friends with Clan and with Mages, and we know this entire commune of Mages up in Burlington and if anyone can find your parents, he can,” Conor says firmly. “You’ll do it, Dad, right?”

“I think I’d need a little more information before I can promise that,” Pawel says slowly.

“Your father is supposed to be resting.” Dad stands behind him, and Pawel doesn’t need to turn to know the look Dad gives Conor. He was on the receiving end of that look himself many times as a child. Dad continues, “The last time your father got involved in something, he disappeared and you came here.”

Conor’s mouth snaps shut, lips pressed and his cheeks flushed. “He came back,” he mutters. “He always comes back.”

Emma pats the bed and when Conor sits, she puts her arms around him and holds on. “Maybe mine will come back, just like yours did. Then your dad won’t have to go find them.” Her whisper is too loud to be entirely secret. “I don’t want your dad to disappear again.”

“Me neither,” Conor admits.

“Emma.” 

“Dziadziu!” Conor interrupts him. “Did you ask Emma’s dads—”

“They’re not my dads.”

“—if she can stay over tonight?” The sadness is gone from Conor’s expression as he bounces on the bed. “She’s got stuff in a drawer from the last time she stayed. She can get on the bus with me in the morning, and we can play games with Alan online later.” His gaze skates to Pawel. “If you say it’s okay, of course.”

It’s only been a couple of months, and Conor has somehow built himself a routine here. Pawel isn’t entirely sure how he fits into it.

It’s strange thinking about Conor growing up and growing apart from Pawel when his son is only nine years old.

“I talked to them,” Dad assures them. “But that means sleep tonight. It’s a school night, and I’ll be checking. No magic after dark. No surprise storms. No more rain indoors.”

“That was once!” Conor protests.

“Lights out by half past eight, and I want you asleep by nine,” Dad says in a tone that brooks no argument. “You’ve got plenty of time before then; we haven’t even had dinner yet. You might even be sick of each other by then.”

“Never!” Conor and Emma chorus.

Pawel has to wait for Dad to move before they can both slip out of the room, leaving the door cracked. “I’m glad he’s made friends here,” Pawel says quietly. “He and Alan are—well, I’d almost call them codependent sometimes. I was worried. But they both seem to be doing well.”

“Conor’s fallen on his feet, that’s for sure. He’s a lot like another child I once knew: just starts talking until he finds his spot to fit in. Might even have a bit of a savior complex.”

Pawel gives his father a dark look. “I do not have a savior complex. If I did, I’d have followed you into law enforcement, rather than going into academia.”

Dad smiles. “You’re still saving people. You just go about it in a different way on a daily basis. But it seems to me like you didn’t even hesitate when you found out your students needed your help. You can’t resist a puzzle.”

“Apple didn’t fall far from the tree, I get it,” Pawel mutters. “Fine, fine. We’re all peas in a pod, and a hundred other trite descriptive phrases. The Szczek men have similar traits.”

“Mm.” Dad leads the way outside, so they can retrieve the last few things from Pawel’s car. “Some of us have learned how to ask for help,” he says quietly. “Conor’s made himself at home in Emma’s foster house. He’s spent more than a few nights there, and yes, before you ask, I trust her foster fathers completely. One of them works with me. But that’s something you might want to think about this summer, Pawel.”

Pawel shoulders the backpack with his computer in it, and closes the door to his car. “What’s that, Dad?”

“You don’t have to do everything on your own,” Dad reminds him. “For the summer, you’ve got me. Think about what to do when you get home. The fate of the world doesn’t need to rest on your shoulders alone.”

It seems like everyone’s got something to say about his bad habits. The thing is, Pawel’s got help at home. He’s a single father; he knows he needs assistance sometimes. He’s got Alan’s family next door. Emily’s always willing to help out with Conor. But he’s also got… a lot of responsibility. He’s a professor, and a dean, and he leads Coven and the taekwondo team. 

Who the hell else is he going to rely on? Pawel does the things no one else is available to do.

“Don’t worry, Dad,” he says, because he knows it’s what Dad needs to hear. “I’m not going to overwork myself again. I’ll make sure I’ve got help.”

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[twitchesandstitches]

It was very difficult for Pearl to do Plans. Even broadcasting to every ship in the fleet, in an open invitation to all fellow aberrants to weigh on and suggesst alternatives or tweaks, there was one small complication.

Namely, that Grimlock had apparently decided that his role as a strategic genius was overrated and had resolved to spend the rest of eternity annoying the heck out of her. She had to admit that her own constant set of barbs rubbing it in that he was somewhat low-class by her standards weren’t helping to make any peace, and he just loved dueling with anyone who posed a good challenge.

Fights took many forms, after all. Sometimes it was bloody brawls that ended with pieces all over the floor. And sometimes it was very long-term bickerfests that had been going on for centuries, a sort of pen-note to the ancient rivalry between Gems and Transformers all the way back to some primordial Diamond and ur-Transformer who looked at each other and thought, ‘Hey, you. ...Go slag yourself.’

“And so,” she spoke to dozens of ships, and hundreds of smaller family turbo-house ships going through space, and the individual craft laying outwards. “As we near a potential dead universe, I believe it is instrumental that we pause at this planet here!” She went to go indicate a map, which had been lost somewhere in her person-sized breasts.

Grimlock took this opportunity to ‘accidentally’ smack her in the head with his tail as she retrieved it.

Pearl got back up, her expression tight. “Do you mind!?”

He said nothing, making loud snoring noises. She glanced about; the crowd around her seemed content to ignore it. The other Dinobots shrugged apologetically or made gestures of ‘he’s trying to get you to annoy him back’. Elita-1, or at least an avatar of her in a hyper buxom approximation of her true form, tried not to snicker obnoxiously. More distantly, Rose Quartz and Greg Universe (sitting on her shoulder, a tiny lovable speck) were looking a bit irate. But Sierra was sitting on top of Grimlock’s head, and she’d probably side with him out of reflex, and no one could stand to upset her or make her disappointed.

“...As I was saying,” Pearl continued. “I recommend a stay on this planet, and use it to construct a new agricultural ship, as well as produce more crops and meat-animals to supply the fleet. Raw materials and processable fuels as well, for those of us that eat other things! We will likely be in a universe with no food, so we shall have to grow our own.”

“Will there be punching involved,” Grimlock asked laconically.

She gave him a hard look. “No. My preferred planet of choice for this sabbatical is an isolated planet with no known intelligent life. There is nothing to punch!”

“I HAVE LOST ALL INTEREST.”

“These meetings would go a lot further if you actually tried to help.”

“That sounds like boring talk. ‘Ey! Pink Diamond!” Rose looked miffed as she loomed over Grimlock, more than three times his size and her absolutely enormous bustline nearly dwarfing even her massive proportions. He was a giant among Autobots, and she still made him look puny.

He did not appear even slightly intimidated. “Can you get someone in here to translate that into not-boring-talk?”

Rose sighed. “You realize he wouldn’t do this if you didn’t bait him.”

Pearl waved a finger. “I am the finest swordfighter on this fleet and I will brook no lies against this!”

Grimlock actually growled. “Lies, you say!” He settled back.

Sierra yawned, her mostly unclothed body sandwiched between a couple plates on the top of his head she rose like a hammock, her ultra-thicc body not so much overflowing it as going past capacity. “You really shouldn’t be so competitive. Or take everything she does so personally. You’re getting vindictive!”

Grimlock unsheathed a non-deadly blade from his tail and thrust it out. “I am not vindictive!”

“You’re stabbing Pearl in the face right now!”

Grimlock looked around. His tail-blade was being jabbed into Pearl’s face, bouncing off harmlessly with a faint squeaky noise. It wasn’t painful but clearly annoying for her.

He poked her in the face with the tail blade several more times.

“No I’m not,” he said, in a deadpan sort of voice.

[badass-at-fandoming]

Just Little Ventrue Things ~

I finished a Camarilla Ventrue run of VTMB. Mostly, the only thing Ventrue these days know how to do is Dominate, run screaming, eat hot chip, and lie, and [high falsetto voice] here’s a list of other nonsense I discovered:

PC’s name is Christina; she’s a Dominatrix because I’m bi. Her sire was one of her clients, and she’s actually very, very angry about his death. She doesn’t mind being a vampire. She’s Wiccan and part of a coven

In this Camarilla run, I decided I would only do quests given by Camarilla members. My justification was that, while Christina is intelligent and curious about lore, she focuses on tasks that immediately relate to her and her goals. She’s not curious about others; won’t go out of her way to talk to them. She’s not a bleeding heart, like my other PCs, and she believes in the Camarilla’s laws. She just hates LaCroix for killing her sire. Her plan during the game is to curry as much favor within the Cam as possible and cozy up to LaCroix so she can stab him.

Enough backstory

Nonsense time

Smiling Jack laughs at you if you don’t eat a rat in the tutorial. LOL. The Ventrue dialog is like “I could barely choke down the homeless man: please don’t make me eat a rat!”

The blood in the Santa Monica haven’s fridge is now blue blood. Does regular blood make Ventrue sick? I was too scared to experiment.

[spots Mercurio] I am going to steal that ghoul

Rosa: The people you’re looking for are up there. Christina, assuming Rosa is a Cam agent: Okay, thanks, bye

Never spoke to the Thin-Bloods again (sorry Lily baby ;-;)

Everyone except Julius still leaves when the PC reaches Hollywood

If you try to feed on Julius, he WILL kick you in the head and you WILL glitch into the fire, be on fire; run away screaming in Prada

You can skip the whole basement of the Ocean House Hotel if you manage to jump over the hole in the staircase???? Like?? You mean the spookiest fucking level has been optional this whole time I”M

[ghost appears] [Christina smacks it with an axe] None of that.

Club girls speak to Christina and I’m on the FLOOR

Therese “kills” Jeanette, even though I had enough oompa to make that not happen.

Therese joins the Camarilla and says she’s in good position to be the next Prince??? Hello??? Where is our Prince Voerman ending????

Went straight to LaCroix, called him “sir,” and he name-dropped Napoleon.

LaCroix tells Christina to go visit the Anarchs. She blows the Anarchs off (Nines made a growly face, Damsel dialog yowl-exited out after I asked if she wanted to join the Cam; Skelter threatened to murder me twice). When LaCroix told Christina that, while he admired her Cam loyalty, she must listen to her enemies to understand what they wanted, it felt like he was actually being a good sire and mentor.

That’s weird.

When Christina asked for his history, he very carefully explained his lineage, like the important part of Ventrue culture it is.

Overall, I found LaCroix-being-nice-to-me extremely unsettling.

Sir. Stop smiling at me, sir. Stop being impressed I don’t ask for money. STOP MAKING ME UNDERSTAND WHY PEOPLE LIKE YOU, SIR.

In contrast, LaCroix sounded genuinely betrayed at the end

Also made it more obvious when he started to lose track of his marbles

Ventrue PC seems juuuuuuust tall enough for her forehead to glitch into the ceiling of literally any confined space

The dirty Elizabeth Dane policeman didn’t psspspspsp at Christina so the whole ship was 15 white-knuckled minutes of making police dance and scuttling about

There is!!! A lot less!!! Talking in this game!!! Than I remember!!! She is only good at talking and ordering people around i am bEGGING

All EXP goes to Dominate and making Christina extremely charismatic and buff.

Ventrue himbo????

Beckett un-himbo-ifies her

She insults Beckett on their first meeting, spitting out “What do you want, wolfie?!” I thought this was appropriate because she died like, 4 times on that warehouse mission and was Extremely Stressed And Under Duress

Beckett’s response of “Oh, you’re too young to have mouthed off to the truly old ones yet.” makes his later snide remark of “the young ones are so temperamental” 900% funnier. Yeah, LaCroix! Beckett thinks I’ve grown and am now more mature than you! XD

Missions involving sex workers hit different when you’re a sex worker.

Christina was incandescent with rage at the Brotherhood

Grout’s mansion mission was a lot of “I have no interest in this nonsense.”

For the first time ever, I didn’t kill anyone during the Museum quest! This is because Christina ran very fast and Dominated every guard as quickly as possible. Every single fucking guard knew she was there, but could do nothing about it, because they were dancing. The door to the sarcophagus locked (it will do this if too many guards are agro), but locked doors are no match for noclip hack.

Entertaining image of a tall woman absolutely blasting into this museum room and Beckett tackling her to the floor like wait! I must snark at you! You are legally obligated to speak with me!

Isaac is still somehow a pretty chill guy to work with if you’re Camarilla.

Christina didn’t visit VV or Ash. Interestingly, Ash didn’t show up at the hunter monastery later. Did he just die in his club? Is he still there, waiting, deciding?

Christina @ Andrei: what the fuck is this shit

“I don’t care. It’s ugly. Clean it up.”

SEWERS.

Not as bad as I was expecting

Did take shortcut, run away from fights, ducked out in the middle for a snack, and bring 7 blue blood packs tho

Gary threatened to shred her face with a cheese grater, which I thought was Toreador only dialog?? It must be connected to the Appearance Stat. Which Christina has maxed out.

When Heather became Christina’s ghoul, I was delighted because I thought this meant Christina would always have fresh blood.

No

If you ask to feed on her too soon after the last time, Heather says she feels light headed and wants to lie down. The dialog exits out

I love you, Heather bb

Perfected the art of nudging NPCs into corners

Mitnick’s quests now feature Enforced Nap Time for all guards

Seriously, Dominate is ridiculously powerful, hooooly shit. I get why people like it. I also like it when people do things I ask them to do.

Christina can’t sneak, but she CAN strongly encourage everyone to choke on their own tongues.

Very high contrast in the beginning of the game: 2 punches would knock her over, but anyone she spoke to would obey immediately and without question

Chinatown goes by ridiculously fast if you can’t sneak and don’t do any sidequests besides Mitnick’s.

For the first time ever, Zhao survived! This is because Christina made him take a nap.

He just told her to leave

You’re welcome, my good dude

IDK if it’s a game glitch, but Christina would vocalize? In battle, she grunts with effort and pain.

Got to the point where I kept expecting Dominate dialog in every interaction and would get disappointed if it didn’t show up. What do you mean I have to actually convince people? That’s lame.

Christina was polite and charming to Ming Xiao, who also conveyed a deeper betrayal than normal at the end. ;-;

I promise to give you a Ventrue boy toy soon, Xiao

Finale arc quests went by VERY FAST because Christina can’t sneak for shit. Just run in, Dominate blazing

You can skip the outside bit of the Hallowbrook Hotel if you find the open door on the top level what the fuuuuuuuuuCK

[“A Little Party Never Killed Nobody” plays while Christina wipes out the Sabbat in 10 minutes]

Andrei disappeared mid-fight and didn’t come back until I complained that only I was allowed to run away from boss fights

I’m categorizing “triggering the interaction to save Heather” as something quite difficult to do. The timing has to be just right. I’ve missed it twice now. BUT hacking into the game to save her is easy.

I love you, Heather bb

Final Beckett talk had the vibe of “You’re a very different person than me, but you’re also High Humanity and trying to do good. You don’t deserve to die.”

Damsel threatens to kick the shit out of Christina and is extremely reluctant to tell her where Nines is

“Out of all people, they send you? All right, let’s just talk terms.” - Nines because Christina was short with him one (1) time

WEREWOLF HARD

You can just?? Walk out of your haven?? Without speaking to Jack at all???

I didn’t do that

But I could have

[”Dust in the Wind” plays while Christina kills entire Camarilla hit squad in 3 minutes]

You can visit Mercurio and Trip on your way out of Santa Monica??

Mercurio makes no comment on the blood hunt. Business as usual with him. This is fine.

Christina: I’m SO going to adopt that ghoul. And perhaps Isaac can be convinced to part with Romero...

(For the first time ever, my PC boinked Romero. Twice, to receive the break up email)

This is definitely a glitch, but Christina brushed up against Caine, and a worried voice said, “Are you all right?” It sounded like the same voice actor, but a higher pitch?

Always nice to think about Caine demonstrating care

Christina asked Caine who he is, and Caine replied that he “gets people where they’re going. [He’s] a driver,”  which is a nice nod (lol) to both his literal job as a driver and as a shepherd/creator/god to Kindred. Caine creates and makes fate.

Caine triple checks with Christina that she’s sure Strauss won’t betray her. Thanks, Vampire Dad. :’D

For some reason, only other Ventrue guarded LaCroix’s tower. I wonder if this is intentional. Like all the other Camarilla Clans backed Strauss and left? So only LaCroix’s Ventrue lackeys remain? Anyway, it created some weird moments where Christina fought her double.

KILL YOUR DOUBLE

Sheriff laughed in haughty joy that he was to kill Christina. I don’t remember him laughing in other playthroughs.

Christina ruining Caine and Jack’s prank oh noes