Worm of Darkness(WoD/Worm) Snips

[VirtualFox]

With some of my World of Darkness/Worm snips generating some interest in the ideas threads here and SB. I'm going to cross post them here for people's enjoyment, quips and criticisms!
There will be various crossovers with the various splats but anything with the Headgames tag is a potential full WoD/Worm megacrossover with the MC being a Hunter from Hunter:The Reckoning.
I have stuff for Hunter, Vampire, Werewolf and Wraith so far. Changling and Mage elements coming later.

 

[VirtualFox]

Just an idea of Amy being turned into a Tzimisce...and all her fears are now her reality...and yes trying to keep Tzim body horror to pg-13 is an interesting challenge

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Amy rubbed her bare arms in the dark night, feeling the cool skin underneath her fingers, it still unnerved her sometimes to touch something and not feel anything anymore. No microbes, no germs, nothing. To touch a person was as if she'd never been Panacea....

Reaching up to her throat she rubs where her 'Sire' had torn her throat out for her 'temerity at having the Eldest's blessing' before she felt her fangs dig into what remained of her neck. feeling her lifeblood pour out of her. Her maker had watched and known her sisters penchant for excessive force and waited for Vicky , no Glory Girl to slip up. Waited for her to call Amy before messing with her head. The one who turned her had wanted Amy's first meal to be her sister, but another had appeared. Called the lady who had drunk from her Jaina, and that she had no right do what she'd done. All the bitch had done was drop Amy to the floor, let her bloody finger caress Amy's lips, as she laughed at the newcomers challenge.

She stopped laughing when the ground swallowed her. Amy had remembered the view of watching Jaina sink to her shoulders in dirt and concrete, she could hear the crushing of the woman's bones. But she couldn't focus, all she felt was
hunger
...Her sister in a daze near by called to her like a siren, the 'thump-thud' of her beating heart called out and Amy felt her teeth lengthen...

And then the newcomer stepped between her and her sister, staring right into her eyes with his dark green orbs. "Take from the one who took from you." His stern words cutting right through the fog of hunger as she looks at the one who made her, trying to free herself from the ground, one arm slowly pulling free...and Amy pounces, her own fangs sliding deep into Jaina's vein, drawing her stolen essence back to herself. Jaina tries to pull her arm away, but the angle is wrong and she's fighting a battle on two fronts, the ground and her own childe. And losing both.

"Drink deep of her young one. She broke rules and traditions, the price she pays is death" Amy had just started to pull away from her makers arm when this command echoes in her very soul. And she continues to drink, feeling more and more like she's a balloon about to burst as the woman turns to dust in Amy's mouth.

"I'm sorry young one," the one who would become her mentor speaks again as Amy's mind slowly becomes her own, the ache in her gut fading and the command and fog of her thirst burning away, "your time in the day is now over." He walks over to Amy's dazed sister and whispers words in her ear, Amy makes out words like 'grenade' and 'suicide' and 'parahuman' before returning to Amy's stunned form, picking her up in his arms as if she was a newborn. Walking deeper into the dark alley before he slams his fist into the ground, the whole area shaking and buildings tumble fully into the alley as Amy's eyes closed from the shock and panic.


It's been three month since Jaina had killed her. Three month's since Ulric/Eric had taken her in, not blaming her for her sire's crime in bringing her unlife, but trying to teach her to be her. Jaina and Ulric were of the same 'family' of vampires, Clan's he'd called them. But that a small percentage didn't have what her sire had called 'The Eldest's Gift' but she did. her time as Panacea made her a prodigy in the gifts of her sire's bloodline.


It took 1 month for her to learn how to shape her body, and one more to try her own face. It took a 'teaching session' with Ulric drilling into her head that 'she's not the shell she's in' to start really playing with her face, to be anybody she wanted was child's play now. Flesh was clay and she was now an artist, and it her medium.


She was no longer Panacea healer of heroes, no longer Amy Dallon failed adopted daughter, so who was she now? Ulric offered her protection as he taught her what it meant to be one of the night, hopefully before that protection ends, she'll have her answer.

 

[VirtualFox]

Dead Taylor Alert!!! But That's okay!
************
Brockton Bay always looked and felt run down to Taylor, but seeing it like this broke her heart. Or would if she still had one. The detritus and grime was everywhere, even on Main Street. The less said abut the Docks and Boat Graveyard the better. Shivering at the ever present chill coming off, eyes open and alert as she walks the streets she still calls home. Even those like her seem to have given the Bay up for dead.

Chuckling softly at irony of the dead calling a place 'dead,' the memory of her 'waking' still very fresh. She'd woken up in Winslow, right out in front of her locker. She didn't think it was Winslow at first. A twisted hallucination of being free, crooked windows overlapped with fixed, broken and whole desks, rusted lockers as the cherry on top to everything
they
had trapped her in there with. Until she heard the howls.

Those had sent a shiver through her entire being and sent her mindlessly running, and out the building, the landscape even more despairing than Winslow. The howls got louder, she kept running, looking for a place to hide. Her running had been blind, and dumped her into an alley, trash cans sprawled everywhere. Running behind a dumpster and resting her hands on it, she pants even as she tries to silence herself 'I need to hide, I need to hide, I need to hide,' With last words she for a lack of a better word
phased
into the dumpster seeing everything around it as the dark howling forms she sees run past the alley took her breath away, or would have, she didn't think dumpsters needed to breathe. It took an hour for her to figure out how to get out of the dumpster. At first she thought she might be a cape, wouldn't be the first time a cape saw weird shit as a result of their trigger.

But time proved otherwise. She'd died in the locker and was trapped between. She'd found others like her. Some tried to kill her, others recruit her. She'd started her own business here in the shadows of the Bay and learned how to affect the living. She had a few allies now, willing to haunt and torment the gangs of Brockton.


Shaking her head at the time Dr. Ross tried to haunt Skidmark and was just brushed off as a bad high. That had really hurt the Haunter's pride, but he'd learned more sense then. They all had, the bay may be dying, but the dead still want it to live.

 

[VirtualFox]

We live in a world of monsters…things that prey on humanity. Vampires, Warlocks, Shapeshifters, and Starborn. In 1983 a Golden Man arrived and everything changed. Starborn or as the populace calls them, parahumans started appearing, and humanity started visibly losing the war for its survival. The Endbringers soon followed, was there going to be any end to this?

In 1999, the first of us were 'called' to as Witness1 put it 'Inherit the Earth.' All of us chosen to witness the world as it really is, and act. My calling was in 2005; I'd been grocery shopping to take a break from doctoral thesis on the damage of a parahuman's trigger events do to the parahuman, when I heard a shout in Spanish, turning to face the shout a young angry man was marching towards a young pregnant woman his hands dripping with some sort of fluid causing the tile to steam and sizzle.

BEWARE THE STARBORN.

My world slowed as those words rattled in my brain, my eyes glancing back towards the woman, but she was different, a hulking thing of fur, flesh and teeth; covering her belly protectively, eyes scared and whimpers escaping her muzzle. The young man relentlessly marching forward, his hands clenched as the liquid keeps dripping to the floor. It was his eyes though that had my attention, he was going to do whatever he felt he could. I acted without thinking, interposing myself between the two as man drew his hand back. His hand snapping forward letting the sizzling fluid fly towards me and beast behind me.

"NO!!!!" My voice firm and strong as the acid split around us. Before he could raise his hand again, I lashed out with a foot catching him between, the legs. He instinctively grabbed at his set with his sizzling hands as he dropped to his knees. Before he could do any more, my sloppy old karate lessons kicked in literally, and I kicked his nose in. He didn't get back up.

The beast girl looked like she had before, eyes wide with anger and shame. "I could have, I could have..' her voice skipping.

"You probably could have made him regret being a man faster," my words shaky, "but the little one might not have cared about being jostled so much." My words seemed to do the trick, the panic and and rage ebbing some.

"She's my first, and its been a rough pregnancy. I just froze not knowing how to keep her safe."

"Panic is normal," trying to be a bit more clinical to bring my own adrenaline as I finally hear the sirens, "so what's the soprano to you?"

"An ex that never wanted to move on."

"Did he have the melting thing before you left?"

"No, probably got it when the autobody shop he worked in got robbed last week."

The rest of the conversation tapered of as LA's Finest and the local PRT showed up, and everything followed standard post crime follow up. Thanks to security cameras and statements the idiot pled guilty, I never needed to testify.

That choice was my first look behind the veil. I started doing some digging online and found others like me. 'Hunters' they called us because we hunted the truth and threats to humanity.

We'd been around a few years and picked up a few things about the things that go bump in the night. Vampires were a fractious lot with their fingers in pretty much every political pie, not through direct mind control anymore due to Master/Stranger protocols in many offices; but blood slaves and bribery still go far. Warlocks could be lumped into three major catatgories: Change the world, Freeze the World, Kill the world and no idea which one is which. The Shapeshifts, seem to be eco terrorists on steroids for the most part, I learned a little from the shifter I saved and know that they're far more complex. And the Starborn, parahumans, heralded by the arrival of Scion; are the biggest mystery? We hunters seem to be called by the Earth to protect humanity, are the parahumans our opposite called to prepare the world of Scion? What of the Endbringers?

While many of us actively hunt and confront the others, I stayed on the path I started. Got a Doctorate in Parahuman Psychology, and started working for the PRT to 'help' Parahumans. I use my position to study Parahumans to give information to my fellow hunters, to know where they fit in the grand scheme of things. I have yet to break my oaths as a therapist, only sharing general insights to on parahuman psychology or building profiles on villain parahumans.

I've just rotated to PRT ENE to do a stint as the Protectorate and Ward therapist for three months for the beginning of this year. I'd asked the outgoing therapist who he felt were the ones needed our services the most.

"Out of the Wards, Shadow Stalker, she's having the hardest time adjusting to being a part of a team with her being the newest member. Pushing boundaries and her teammates in ways that could become problematic later on."

"In the Protectorate?"

"Armsmaster, the man's wound up tighter than drum and has social skills of rock. He's good at what he does, but he'd be probably be better if he embraced the human in parahuman more often."

After the conversation I started going through both files. Armsmaster for lack of a better expression did need to 'take a chill pill,' but he always crossed every t and dotted every i, so every evaluation was perfect and had no ground to sideline him. Might need to work on that, but overall looks to be one of the good guys.

Shadow Stalker's file on the other hand was a mess, despite only have been Ward for a few months. Missed first session, had to physically ordered to come to the second. On probation, but the PO reports are a mess. Some appear to be cut and copy's to build a set of 'nothing to report' reports, comments that her grades have risen and stayed high enough to stay on the team; but no inspections, no interviews with the faculty or her parents, no in depth follow ups. Considering why she's on probation, this is an almost criminal level of negligence. I turned on the white noise generator in my office and swore a lot just under the volume. This was bad. 'Will she be the first patient I set the others on?' Looking at the parts of her file I'm cleared for show the trend that Dr. Marcus mentioned, and several opportunities to reoffend break parole. Patterns of behavior with a disregard for rules and potential excessive force moments. Those solo patrols would be so easy to break the conditions of her release and use lethal arrows if she's stashed some on various routes, basic profile indicates that's a possibility. I might be jumping to conclusions, but it looks like we have monster in hero's skin. Need to talk to her, her PO, Deputy Director Renick, and Armsmaster about this.

Checking the appointment rotation of the Wards I have Vista and Clockblocker tomorrow and Stalker and Aegis on Thursday. That will give me some time to talk the PO for first hand impressions and report things up the chain. Please be someone I can work with Stalker, I don't want to set the wolves on you.

 

[VirtualFox]

Tempted to make Dinah a Hermit Hunter instead of the standard precog for this universe, so here's a potential journal entry from her near the beginning of the experience. Note I never have been, nor will be a little girl, so any advice to make this sound better is appreciated.
****************************************************************************************************************************************************

Dear Diary,

Mommy says there are no such thing as monsters. She's wrong. I hear them every day, yelling in my head, or sometimes see them. The first one I saw was when mom took me shopping for clothes, it was gross and twisted, a few people must have seen what seen I started attacking it! Mom saw the fighting and started dragging me from the store, as she did, I saw the thing get ready to jump on one of the attackers. I tried to scream 'Watch Out!' but no words came, but the girl dove to the side like she had heard me. Since then, I keep seeing symbols and notes. And the Headaches! Anytime someone strange gets close, I feel like my head is going to burst! I found that out when I noticed that one of the teachers at my school looks dead, he didn't notice I saw him like that, all rotten, twisted and smelly, but I did. Between the headache and the smell, I threw up and nurse called my mom to take me home. What's going on with me?​

​

 

[VirtualFox]

Spider Taylor-Daughter of the Queen Mother, spider of escalation!
*****
I know now why mom cried. Some night's she would just open the door to my bedroom and watch me while I slept. Sometimes I would pretend to sleep when that happened, and I'd here her sniffles. She knew my destiny. Her death put everything in motion, it tore me apart inside, before I slowly felt my feelings become tougher to reach, like events had to reach through a wall of fog to make me feel. That helped a lot after the betrayer turned on me, all those years of friendship destroyed to build her and her 'new friends' up. 18 months of steadily escalating yet petty pranks and comments. Teachers doing nothing when I asked them, the principle offering no help and after my 4th​ attempt threatening me with suspension for making 'false reports' of bullying. I kept a journal after I got shoved down the stairs, trying to gather evidence of a pattern, to make others see. And then the flute happened.

I brought mom's flute to school with me one day, I needed to feel closer to her with all the ups and downs happening. Leaving in it my locker was a mistake. It was removed, wrecked, and covered in dog shit. My emotions slipped further from me in that instant, shutting down yet not. The worst part was when I left to get paper towels to pick up the flute, someone removed it. Denying me one of my connections to my mom.

And then yesterday, the locker. The betrayer and her cohorts shoved me into my locker. But it wasn't that part I objected to; it was the fact that somehow, they managed to fill my locker with every form toxic crap you could find on campus before they shoved me in. And then left me.

But I wasn't alone in the locker. The bugs and the spiders were crawling all over me, I should have been freaking out, the stench alone should be sending me to a panic. Yet…

Hello Daughter Mine

The words resonated through my very soul, it wasn't yet it was my mother's voice. Not Annette Mother, but Queen Mother. My feelings and form melted into hundreds of spiders as she showed me how to come to her, the small hole in the back of my locker my path into her web. My Grandmother had been one of hers, but Mother never changed. But she knew I would, before Grandmother passed, she told her so.

That is why my mother cried. She knew the duties that the Queen Mother asks of her children. I wish I could tell her not to cry, that this is the way it is supposed to be. I am Anasasi.

 

[VirtualFox]

I'd been dabbling with the Idea of a Syndicate Danny and NWO Annette for a technocratic family, and then thought that Annette's death could have pushed a Mage Danny into Quiet and Taylor in the locker snapping him out of it. This is also a potential lead in to a technocrat!Taylor of the IterationX variety.
*********************************************************************************************************************************
Taylor 2.0

Danny sat next to his daughter's bed, the machines beeping, her eyes closed…possibly to never wake again. The toxins in the locker had gotten into her bloodstream and from there everywhere. It wasn't looking good. In his hands, a long forgotten cell phone, with numbers he hoped to never need again. He'd taken the job with the Dockworkers, both out of loyalty and the desire for a challenge, many others like him went to high powered firms. But true power and opportunity came from creating them, and he felt he could bring the Docks to prominence again. But the Boat Graveyard and the slow steady decline of Bay proved to be a bit much for him. And the loss of Annette…

*RING RING RING*

The worn phone rings in his hand.

*RING RING RING*

He answers automatically. "Hello Director Monroe."

"It is time to come home Mr. Hebert. We need you."

"I'm not leaving my daughter."

"You don't have to. Dr. Matherson should be able to save her."

Danny's blood runs cold and hot. Dr. Matherson. Cybernetics. Transference. Risks. Rewards. Mentally running the numbers, he comes to the only conclusion.

"Which hospital or institute?"

"Medhall."

"The paperwork will be done in an hour Director."

"It's already done and your office has been cleaned up. It's time to get back to work Mr. Hebert."

"What's my target?"

"Fortress Construction, all the numbers and simulations say that it's a threat to the people of Brockton Bay, but can't reveal why. Best guess is Parahuman Involvement, second best guess is our opposites getting sloppy and people paying for it."

"Tasks Director?"

"You'll be getting some special Dockworkers courtesy of Drs. Matherson and Williams, get them into work crews for the company. Also start raising your profile again, show you can be a mover and shaker, see if we can shake a few more tidbits loose for the number crunchers to work with."

"And Taylor?"

"The good doctors say she'll be back on her feet in two weeks with the treatments, with another week of adjustment therapy before she's ready to be back in public.."

"Alright Director, I'll head to the office when Taylor is picked up."

"The retrieval team will be there in 10 minutes. It's good to have you back Mr. Hebert."

 

[reality deviant]

It is interesting oneshots... can you try similar things with the settings of nWoD?

 

[VirtualFox]

It is interesting oneshots... can you try similar things with the settings of nWoD?

Click to shrink...

I have the splats for Mage, werewolf, vamp and changling in nWoD so I might mess around with them eventually, but I am a more comfortable with the older setting. But a Taylor captured from her locker for Changling:The Lost immediately comes to mind as something I might try.

 

[VirtualFox]

A thought of Glory Girl's impulsiveness, writing a check she just can't cash.
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Her sister always told her that her impulsiveness would get her killed, she was right. She, Victoria Dallon, found out the hard way that her actions have consequences. It looked so simple, an alleyway drug deal, those never have weapons she needs to fear; shock and awe, turn up the aura, crush the weapons, and call the cops.

But it wasn't.

The moment she flared her aura, the 'dealer' just chuckled and then she heard his voice far more cultured than the gangbanger look told her.

"Let me show you how it's done little girl."

And then Glory Girl knew FEAR. She was absolutely paralyzed, whole body shaking, wanting to run, curl up into a ball, and then…RAGE! Swinging almost blindly at man, whiffing each hit. All she hears is that infuriating low chuckle, as she wails at him.

She feels her shield drop and reassert itself as she skids back in the alley, her brain cutting through the anger to realize this man hit her hard enough to pop her defenses. She starts to fly away, knowing shes in over her head….

"Stop."

She freezes in mid air

"Come back to me."

Her mind yelling and screaming to run, to flee, to…SOMETHING!!! But nothing…she's trapped in her body as this thing forces his will on hers.

He stares right into her eyes and she feels herself being layed bare before this stranger, tears pooling as floats before him.

"Glory Girl, Victoria Dallon, if it was not for the fact I can hear your heart hammering with fear, I would think you were one of my family with that temper, that aura, and that strength. You're smart and beautiful and strong-willed."

As he says this he steps forward placing a hand on her back, keeping her in place.

"Welcome to the family."

With this, his other hand hits her gut hard, doubling her over as her shield pops, and then. His teeth…no fangs…piercing her throat. Her body shudders in revulsion yet pleasure as her essence slowly leaves her, her mind screaming through the fog at the wrongness of it all. Her consciousness slowly reducing to pinprick as he lets her body fall to the ground, and then warmth against her lips and tongue. Her teeth sharpening and piercing something, an arm.

And then she drinks her first drink. It warm pleasant fire coursing through her, waking all of her senses….

Her eyes widen as she spits the arm out in realization, seeing that she'd been feeding from his arm. He rolls down his sleeve while looking her in the eyes.

"I'd avoid sunlight and crowds for the time being. If you want help understanding your new existence, go talk to Jasper at the Palanquin. He's one of us."

With that he lept over the alley wall, leaving a changed woman in his wake.

 

[reality deviant]

i particularly was interested in ami as tcimisze oneshot.
And have you considered the Beast splat of nWoD?
Or a Hunter one?

 

[VirtualFox]

@reality deviant Don't have either of those splats, but have been idly interested in the Beast splat. The Amisze I want to flesh out a bit more(no pun intended), but the muse hasn't let me go back to it yet. Also trying to keep that clan forum friendly is a challenge.

 

[reality deviant]

another interesting thing could be one of the fanmade splats... Like the Dragon one, or the Siren one

 

[VirtualFox]

I might try and browse through the fan splats at one point or another, but for now the 'traditional' splats are my main sources of inspiration.

 

[VirtualFox]

A Wayward Hunter's view of the 'Worm of Darkness' world sets
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Something or someone is protecting the Starborn. So public in their unnaturalness, yet the mythos of 'only a cape can kill a cape' persists. Tinkers, Thinkers, Masters, Strikers…all of them nothing a bullet to the back of the head or high quantities of explosives. Changers and Breakers…the same if you can catch them out of their state. Brutes…well every one has a weak point, the hard part is finding it.

Any 'mere' mortal could apply these and yet 'only a cape can kill cape.' I know the things that go bump in the night can kill capes. Saw a puppy disembowel a two bit cape who thought he could rob a store, that distraction gave me the time to put in a bullet in the doggo's head. So non capes can kill capes, but humanity refuses to believe it. What must be done to tear the wool from their eyes?!?!?! What can be done to awaken humanity to the fact their world is not theirs and the need to take it back!

My brethren keep debating in their Ivory towers and hunternet, 'what can we do?' 'are the Starborn still human?' 'can we use them against the others?' 'Can we make them see the damage they're doing to this world?' Bah, fools the lot of them. Nilbog can't be reasoned with, the Slaughterhouse Nine can't be bargained with, the Ash Beast won't stop! All we can do is wipe them out! Just like the Vampires, just like those that wear human skin over their monstrous forms, just like the specters that try to reach beyond the grave. THEY ALL MUST FALL!!!!

 

[VirtualFox]

A follow up to the first Amizce snip! Featuring everyone's favorite vulpine trapped in human skin...TT!
*************************************************************************************************
Lisa hated being Coil's cutout, well she hated being Coil's anything but being a glorified messenger girl irked. The only pleasure she got was when he told her to give this 'Eric' a message he was terrified. Even though the thought of going to talk with someone who terrifies the man who holds a gun to her head, doesn't fill her with many good feelings.

It was a nondescript house she'd been sent to, doing research before going showed that it was owned by a holding company, but her power seemed to scream 'THIS IS SOMEONE'S DOMAIN!' right through her brain. So while it might be held by a company her power is pointing out how well maintained the place is, immaculate. Why would someone meet her here rather than someplace nondescript? 'Holds to older, no ancient, hospitality rules' the breath she didn't even know she was holding leaves her as she rubs her brow through her mask. At least if Coil was setting her up to die, it wouldn't be here. Unless her mouth runs away with her…

Knocking on the door, leads to a young woman with frizzy short hair opening it. Lisa takes her in seeing the short shorts and tank top, out of place in the cool night air. Small simple tattoos on the woman's arms and legs, that seem to move almost as if they're alive. 'Parahuman with tattoo powers? No…'Her power screaming that she should know this person but can't place the face, or the scars along her throat.

"Master Eric will see you in his office. This way."

This woman's voice also on the edge of Lisa's brain, so similar to someone in the news, someone famous; yet just slightly off. Her power is missing something… 'she only drew a breath to speak!' Lisa's eyes widen and she looks closer at her guide as they walk towards the office. 'Guide is dead, no heartbeat, no pulse, no need breath except to speak.' 'Is this Eric a Master controlling the dead?' her mind wanders as the woman knocks on a door, and opens it a crack.

"Coil's messenger is here Master Eric."

"Send her in Amy and resume your readings."

"Yes, Master Eric."

Lisa's eyes widen and look closely at 'Amy's' eyes and it clicks. Amy, is Amy Dallon! And she's dead!

 

[VirtualFox]

In which we have a literal Bitch!
********************************************************
Rachel took a deep breath as she stepped outside the warehouse/den/hideout whatever the rest of 'pack' wished to call it. She needed run for a bit as it had been getting stuffy in there. With that thought her bones started melt and flow, her face elongating as she gets on all fours, a brownish ragged wolf taking the place of teen.

Starting her run of 'Undersider Territory' she ponders on what brought her here. The failure of a foster home in Maine, the puppy, the RAGE. She transformed for the first time that day, eviscerating the bitch before fleeing into the night. She'd traveled the streets and backroads until she stumbled on others like her. Garou, werewolves, family. They showed her Gaia's purpose for her, a warrior to protect her from the Apocalypse. Bonegnawers welcomed her with open arms, the ways of the streets and back alleys her new home. But this family wasn't to last.

She was broken in their eyes, the Veil that kept them hidden from Humanity had been rent from her somehow. Her warform could be remembered, and was. Somehow the PRT knew that she was a werewolf, called her a Changer Parahuman to the masses. She fled her new home to keep them safe, protect them from the herd and the corruption of the Wyrm. It took her time to stagger into Brockton Bay, one of the most densely populated parahuman areas, with a lot of Bonegnawer kin. There were two small packs in the city trying to protect the Caern at Captain's Hill, but they didn't want her, she was tainted goods. So she slunk into the city, not caring about the sacred spaces, there were kin to protect that the walkers of glass were neglecting.

Out of the Undersiders, it was Lisa who found her first, and made her an offer. 'Money for Muscle,' the Undersiders were forming as a small scale fast 'hit and run' set of thieves. All of them outcasts like herself. She needed money to help her kin and a murder charge made gainful employment difficult. She accepted.

The last few months had been eventful, she'd set up a few boltholes and shelters for blood kin and other mongrels, having to spar with E88 often, they keep capturing dogs for their fighting rings. The Pack of Captain's Hill refuses to do anything because they fear retribution from the whole of the skinheads if found out. But she's not afraid. She's Howling Bitch of the Bonegnawers and will keep her family safe.

 

[Alias_the_J]

Unfortunately, I'm not at all familiar with oWoD. Still, these look like they could be interesting.

 

[VirtualFox]

Classic WoD is one of my bread and butter RPG worlds so I have a lot, almost too much to pull from sometimes.

I have some of the Chronicles splats, but the world never clicked as well. But nWoD Changling helped me understand the classic better. The Lost made it easier for to understand The Dreaming, go figure.

Currently brainstorming more snips:

Armsy encounters zombies
Dragon notices spiders in the Web
Nephandi!Skidmark musings(this is dark!)
Anasazi!Taylor gets her Auspice and role from the Queen Mother
Shadow Stalker encounters a true predator.

 

[VirtualFox]

In which we see a Hunter starting to realize that something might REALLY be wrong with the merchants.
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Brockton Bay was a loud city for its size, and no I don't mean the traditional noise. So much buzzing in the back of my head, this city is ROARING! The Starborn, the Fae, the dead both walking and floating, beasts that wear human skin, mystics of all sorts from just barely above fraudsters to those who could steal mens' souls. They're all here, and the noise can get near deafening sometimes as they move through the city for their chosen goals.

But the noise is also useful, it can tell many things, if one knows how to listen. The noise told me to watch the Merchants, and what I saw is very troubling. Skidmark isn't just poisoning bodies, he's poisoning souls. Turning humans into twisted poisoned abominations.

It took some time piecing the puzzle together. The first clue was when I saw a druggie's shirt changed its words to, "DOOMED," just before he took a swing at me, and I choose to look at him. His lips dripped with black blood and eyes burned a sickly green, a color I'd never seen before. I got lucky, dodging him just long enough for a BBPD patrol to get to the event.

They had to shoot him to put him down. As I still looked his blood was still wrong put as it pooled it formed a word 'CORRUPTION', but the cops just wrote it off as a bad PCP event and let it lie. The words told me it was more.

Between one 'True Crime' work on the Marquis and how he changed the landscape of Brocton Bay; and my newer novel series of modern supernatural fiction where I replace the various Capes and gangs with supernatural equivalents, I have a lot of time on my hands. The fact I slip some elements of the truth into my novels, does 'raise my profile,' but the fact I throw just as many half-truths and outright falsehoods that I've learned also gives me protection because unless someone actually knows me. They don't know what I really know, as if I just grabbed all the rumors about any type of classic supernatural threw them in a blender and just mixed and matched. A few know my codes to find the truth in my works, looking at insights into the various groups that prey on normal humans.

The Marquis book had gotten me a small following here in the bay; New Wave didn't like me much, because I called out their actions as one of the reasons we'd spun out of control here, but some of BBPD appreciated the work. I gave them a few days to work before calling up Detective Sanchez, one fan who I'd also tipped off a few times about gang movements I'd seen. Asked him if he could give me the name of the drug that the guy who jumped me had been on. A little pleading about wanting to know what the Merchants are peddling in the neighborhood, and he flat out told me it was deemed 'Tinker Bullshit' and all the information had been sent to the PRT.

Ah…the PRT…so riddled with ineffeciences, it's a wonder they manage to hold on to anybody. I didn't know anyone who I could get more information from there. So I did the responsible thing. I called up a skinhead.

Mark had realized I was the author of his favorite book series a while ago, and I knew he was a middleman in E88. I did nothing but note it, I don't see him do anything, I know nothing. It's the only way to operate here in the Bay. Telling him I had an encounter with someone pumped up on some new 'Tinker Juice' from the Merchants made him very talkative. They knew the Merchants had gotten something new that was very addictive with a short intense high, but some people go batshit crazy. According to Mark, one of them had managed to actually hurt Cricket, broke her ribs with one punch and then kept pulping her ribs and gut, even as she eviscerated him. His Bosses were very interested on finding and either stopping or acquiring the pipeline for this new drug. I asked if he could get me a sample of the stuff. He balked at first, but then I reminded him that I helped keep his daughter safe from an ABB retaliation. I also promised him if I learned anything new, I'd give it to him to hand up the chain so he looks good.

The small vial of black fluid felt foul and slimy in my hands. Everything is screaming in me that this is not 'Tinker Juice' but older bad mojo….

"What's going on in my town?"

 

[VirtualFox]

In which a Hunter gets a second clue.
**************************************************************************
The second clue I found, the Skinchangers gave me.

Well, more like a pack of them 'smelled' the foulness of the drug on me and came after me. Cornered me, herded me into an alley. I'd been lost in thought and the low level static just holding on to the toxin was causing me to notice till it was too late.

Interrogation via 8 foot tall engine of destruction is a scary thing. I told them everything I knew about it, trying to hide some of the 'why' I'd been looking into the foul drug, but that I'd gotten it from the E88, who'd taken it from a Merchant stash flowed freely from my lips, as panicked as I could sound. Which all things considered, was very panicked.

Telling them more, that I hadn't found a lab yet to test to sample seemed to calm them a little. Something about this foulness is important to them, what little body language and my growing headache from the noise could tell me that they saw this as a threat to them and everyone in the Bay.

BLACK WATER CONSUMES

Those words echo into my skull as I pass out, still in the changers 'tender mercies.' But I believe that fainting from the message saved my life. Made them think I'd passed out from fear, when I woke up they and it looked like a crushed vial was melted near me, I could smell the acrid fumes of melted chemicals and something just at the edge of my other senses screaming about the foulness. They had destroyed the sample, but gave me more information than they intended in return. They feared this stuff getting out into the public more, both physically and informatively. And what did the Messengers mean by 'consumes?'

 

[Pinklestia]

I am not familiar with WoD but I like the Undersiders as monsters. Sadly all the stories with those either are cut short or are made for not safe for work stuff.

 

[VirtualFox]

I am not familiar with WoD but I like the Undersiders as monsters. Sadly all the stories with those either are cut short or are made for not safe for work stuff.

Click to shrink...

I might give a spin on each of them as a supernatural. This is a mix of independent snips and some world building for a cohesive blend of the two. In my mind right now for the cohesive, Rachel is the only change to the Undersiders directly, with the werespider Taylor either a fellow Fera to vent with or a rival one if Taylor winds up a ward....

And now...both Brian and Aisha as Changlings...don't know if it's a good idea or a GOOD IDEA! Only one way to find out!

 

[VirtualFox]

Anxiety and depression do not make good creative writing aids, but here's Amy's first encounter with the Traditions of her new people.
**********************************************************************************8
Amy didn't know what to think of Master Eric's other 'apprentice.' Mathew had been turned in 2001, but like her not by Eric. While he always spoke seriously, it always looked like he was trying to sell you something you knew you didn't want, eyes alight with dark mischief as if he always knew more than her. And if she was honest with herself, he knew far more than her on what it meant to be a vampire.

"Master Eric wants me to give you the run down on your new society missy. Give you the basics, but let him tell you what it means to be Tzimice." His voice soft and cool.

"Tzi-mi-ce?" Amy tongue twists slightly around the unfamiliar word.

"Close enough for now, but now to start the quick and dirty of what it means to be," Amy leans forward as Mathew lets the pause linger slightly, "Kindred. And the best place to start is…the rules!"

Amy feels her eyebrow raise and knows Mathew can see the skepticism on her face.

"Rules and structures help keep us from being mindless beasts, and while depending on where you are different parts of these Traditions are more in force than others; they form the basis of almost all Kindred society." While his still have that glint, the rest of his face delivers these words in a somber tone, settling her down other than ever present hunger in the back of her mind.

"The first rule is simple;" his right hand waves dramatically into pointing at her,"don't let nonvampires know you are a vampire! We really don't want another Inquisition burning down every haven in the world so we keep our existence as secret as possible. With today's technology that gets tougher and tougher so we do wind up bringing mortals into the know that can help hide us, move our money, move our body, etc etc. But the overall point is do what you can to not draw attention to the fact that sunlight makes you crispy. Make sense?"

She nods.

"Good, moving on. The second rule is territory; If you have some, you are the boss of it. If you are on someone else's, listen to what they say. A good idea in theory trying to minimize chaos; you don't want people pissing in your pool or hunting in your grounds enough to get the cops called in. But the biggest problem is always 'how do you know if a territory belongs to someone?' That will be a later lesson when we start digging into everyone's favorite subject, politics!"

Amy's eyes go wide as she chuckles unconsciously, at least Mathew is trying to make this lesson entertaining.

"But for now, just know that anywhere you go currently is Master Eric's domain; unless he or I tell you otherwise in advance, we won't just throw you into the deep end. Just yet."

He starts pacing after the last rule, Amy can see he's gathering his thoughts, trying to find the best way to talk about the next rule.

"The next two rules I'll talk about together. Vampire kids and the responsibilities of Vampire parents. The long and short of them are you're not supposed to make another vampire without permission of Elders or at least those who control the area you live in. Don't want to create to many young ones, which causes over hunting, which brings attention, which violates…." He trails off

"The first rule?" Amy fills in the response.

"Ding Ding Ding! We have a winner! Which ties into the rule on Sires; If you make a vampire you're responsible for their actions till you've taught them the basics and officially present them to the local higher up 'suckers' and say 'They know the rules now!"

"What about in my case? I killed my sire!" Amy's tension rising, the mixture of reverent irreverence as Mathew told her these rules and the delay to talk about these two, which her creation seems to have broke, causing her to shake slightly.

"Usually when these rules are broken the new childe is slain. Key word usually. In your case, Eric has become your sire in all political sense. He chose to punish your sire for breaking the rules, by having you kill her and by taking you as his own he also spares your destruction."

Amy's body slowly unclenches.

"Master Eric has always been a big believer in punishing the sinner, not the result of the sin."

Mathew lets the silence linger softly as she composes herself before resuming. " The fifth rule is about Hospitality. Who ever controls a territory determines who gets to stay there. Also those of us passing through should be courteous enough to let the local leader know we are passing through or ask if we can stay for a bit. With politics this can be a bit iffy to deal with and in many places, sometimes its better to avoid getting the attention of the powers that be." Amy can see his eyes go cloudy as he talks, his experience seeming to bleed into his words. "In the Bay, according to most our kind, it's a free for all. But those who stay awhile know that someone has set up shop here. Outside politics of our kind, but keeps to the rules. These days Master Eric usually sends me as a friendly warning if someone seems to be pissing in his lawn, or does what you said he did to your sire and leave them neck deep in dirt on Captain's Hill facing east if they really started rocking boat. But he's surprisingly rather relaxed about our kind passing through to Boston or New York as long as they don't start shit here."

"How many of us are there here in Brocton?"

"If you include the two living just outside the city; ten," Mathew pauses and looks at her, "make that eleven of us now residing here, with two to three passing through weekly to monthly between bigger cities or looking for a medium city they think they can be a hotshot in. The 'shotcallers' usually wind up as dust fairly quickly; even without us they unintentionally wind up crossing the parahuman gangs often and find out that dragon fire is just like normal fire, even we can be hacked to shreds if enough force is applied, or that most of us can't dodge and tank .50 cal reliably. Most of the residents of the Bay just want a quieter unlife away politics or have been exiled in some way from powerbases and are plotting their returns. Those in the second category know to make sure to limit any blowback to the Bay. The rest of the politics is for another lesson, we've got one more important rule to talk about."

Even though he doesn't need to breathe, his body pulls in air and lets it out in a long low sigh. "The last rule boils down to, 'the leader of a domain, has the authority to order your death,' full stop."

Amy feels her body tense like her breath quicked.

"Usually it boils down to someone breaking these rules, or causing major disruptions that could breach these rules, but this rule is one that all leaders follow religiously. Master Eric did so by having you suck your sire dry in your case, because in making you she violated multiple of these laws. But I've also seen leaders justify enacting this law just on the suspicion another bloodsuckers politics are different from theirs. And in theory, all the others who live in their domain are supposed to help run the target to the ground. A Blood Hunt is no joke, and if you hear of one being called on someone you know; pretend you have no idea where they are, if you know they are innocent, or do them the kindness of killing them yourself to spare them from what others might do, if they've actually put us all at risk."

 

[VirtualFox]

A Second Snip Appears in a Day!!!!! Amy learns of Rage and Bonds.
**************************************************************
Amy thought that she'd never have the awareness of a body she once did as Panacea, but her tutelage under Master Eric, gave her a new appreciation of her body. Despite not practicing the fleshcrafting arts of the rest of their Clan; he had an amazing theoretical knowledge of what it meant to change one's form because of his background in the more general control of form Protean. That plus the text's she'd been given from his library, literal fleshtomes of knowledge of the art her sire claimed she had stolen, were amazing. Horrifying but amazing. If it hadn't been for all the crap she had seen at hospitals, she probably would have puked at the thought of the books, yet parahumanity was full of twisted individuals and these books seemed tame compared to what even she could have done as Panacea…she might have been able to keep the book alive…

Shaking the macabre thought with a dark chuckle she starts her new 'exercise' routine, feeling her blood, her vitae, flow through her and focusing it at different parts of her form. Not trying to do anything with the precious resource; but prepared as if ready to shape the blood and her flesh at a moments notice. The rush and thrum through her body is all she feels, the centering working well since she is now only Amy. No worries about healing others, no chance to disappoint Carol, even thoughts of Vicky have slowly faded in the month since she's been quietly sequestered here. Master Eric and Mathew were both right; Amy Dallon died that night, and she had been born in her place. But what did she want to do or be with this new chance?

Master Eric spends most of his time studying and 'communing with the Bay' only actively in the city to eat or to stomp on a problem that disrupts his studies. Mathew served as his problem solver, major domo, apprentice, and fetch quest victim. She never once heard Mathew complain about any orders or tasks he'd been given; Eric seemed to know exactly what tasks to put him to, and kept him very busy. But any time he wasn't running around Brocton he seemed glued to books and computers. She hadn't had the courage to ask what he was doing; but when Mathew caught her watching him during one of his study session, he simply told her that he'd explain some of it during one of their lessons.

Lessons, lessons, lessons. Almost every day a lesson. How to be aware of herself, what it means to be Kindred, rules of society, the powers her new form grants. That had been an eye opener. How diverse being a vampire was. Her absolute focus on the manipulation of her body and flesh, while some of the stories she'd been told hint at powers far different than what she knows…and that in time she might learn them.

*Knock Knock Knock*

The door to the simple room room she'd used for her meditation and exercises opens to reveal Mathew with his signature eyes alight with the knowledge she knew not.

"Time for another lesson missy." Stepping fully into the room as he closes the door, his usual suit more rumpled than normal. "Master Eric wants to test your self control."

"What?" Her voice flat as it echoes in the room.

"The boss wants me,' he points at himself, "to push you," points at her, "and see if you can keep control."

"And how are you supposed to do that?"

"Time to see how well you defend yourself physically, without losing it."

"What?!" The flat tone gone as she watches him ditch the coat and start unbuttoning his burgundy dress shirt, leaving him in slacks and a tank top. His frame thin yet sturdy.

"I figure we can kill two birds with one stone, start seeing how you handle yourself in a fight, and see if you can keep your temper under pressure." His knuckles cracking as he goes through the motions of loosening up even as their unneeded considering his state, his arms starting to raise….

Amy barely brings her arms up to block in time for Mathew's punch, catching a strike to her chest with a forearm, the blow stinging.

"What the hell!?!?" Her voice scratchy and angry as she moves to the side, barely out of the way of a gut punch, and then a sickening crack fills the room, her vision going grey as the sensation of her right shin cracking shudders through her body as she hits the floor>

Mathew backs off slightly, his arms still slightly up. "You'll heal." His words colder than normal, she feels the seriousness of his words. Taking a moment she starts to center again, flowing the blood to shin, feeling the crack repair, and slowly gets up. Staring him right in the eyes, her arms raising to try and copy his stance. "Again."

She sees his head nod slightly in encouragement…and then the beating began.

Amy had no idea how long the blows came at her, she did her best to block and dodge, she knew she had now way to respond right now, all the training she'd gotten with New Wave, barely kept her blocking three out of five blows.

Her second fall was caused when he stepped right through her defenses, his hand hooking under jaw as his leg and hip settled behind her, dropping her to the floor with thud…it also made her see red….

Next thing she knew, Mathew was sitting on her back, and she felt like Mush had hit her with a garbage truck. "What…The…Fuck?" Her words sluggish and semicoherent.

"You back with me missy?" She could hear genuine concern in his voice.

"Get off me!"

She feels him slowly get off her, and as she slowly rolls to her feet she sees the damage of the room, blood splatters in various spots, claw marks shredding parts of the walls, a few holes punched in places that weren't shredded…and Mathew holding his gut, with blood leaking through his hand,tank top and pants.

"What happened?"

"You lost control missy, the Beast took hold of you and tried to turn me into a chew toy." Dawning horror slowly creeps through Amy, but before she could say anything Mathew continues. "This was exactly why we did this lesson, to show you what can happen when the Beast roams free, also a lesson for myself…I didn't think you'd gotten that good with your powers, gonna take a lot of blood and a few days to heal this." He nods downwards towards his gut. "Definitely made the right decision to ditch the coat and shirt before this, but this is on me not you."

She nods mutely, surprised at his nonchalance at being nearly disembowled by her. Seeing the blood on her fingers, she starts to bring them up for a taste…

"Don't."

The one word snaps her out of her reverie.

"You don't want that blood. Not unless you want to be bound to me."

She feels even colder. "Bound?"

He nods. "Drink any vampires blood three times, and you become bound to them and will do anything for them." His normally mischievous eyes cold, hollow and old. "Some vampires use it to enforce their power, others agreement of vassalage, others just get off being sick and twisted pieces of shit and forcing people to do their bidding."

It clicks for Amy. "You've been bound before."

He nods. "Three times to be technically accurate. The first was a confusing mess of blood magic, the second was my attempt at freedom from that mess that turned into a worse nightmare, but the third actually was freeing."

"You're bound to Master Eric aren't you."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"It was my last chance to be me. I went into it eyes open and we made a contract. Irregardless of anything, Master Eric is honorable. He might not care for others codes of conduct, but his word is stronger than steel. I give him my service and very unlife if needed, and he gives me protection and a chance to further my craft. I don't regret my choice, but I don't want to start you accidenting into something you're not ready for."

Not knowing what to say Amy just nods before the words do come to her.

"Thank You."