Interlude 1.09
- Pronouns
- He/Him
The thought of succeeding Damien as Sheriff of Chicago has been on your mind for some time now, ever since the Prince appointed you to be Hound. Rising up to the challenge when given more responsibility than anticipated has been a recurring theme throughout your mortal life and your existence as one of the Damned. In the Army, when the other specialists in the E-4 Mafia refused to raise their hand, you volunteered to do what was necessary. It's why you were made corporal.
While you're not eager to replace your boss anytime soon, you've resolved to be ready for the responsibility should Prince Jackson tap you for the role. Becoming Sheriff would grant you more power to reform the Camarilla. Plus, taking over for Damien would prevent a soup sandwich of a lick from becoming the chief enforcer of the Traditions in Chicago. While you respect Alexa as a fellow Hound, the thought of them as Sheriff of Chicago makes you want to join the elders being Beckoned toward the Middle East.
"That's not up for me to decide," you say to Kathy. "But if Prince Jackson wants me to succeed Damien, I'm not going to say no."
Kathy's mouth slowly broadens into a smile so wide, you're afraid her face will tear in two like a piece of paper. "That's great! I'm looking for the night when I call you Sheriff Artie."
Kathy's expression then softens. She fixes you with a pleading look in her dark eyes. "In the meantime, look out for Damien, won't you? I can't always be there for him."
You nod as you finish the last of your blood. "Of course."
-
According to Prince Jackson, Wauneka's official domain consists of "any human foolish enough to sleep under a tent in Chicago." What was a flippant declaration from the Prince about the city's homeless population is a statement taken quite seriously by Wauneka. Your fellow Nosferatu considers all of Chicago's tent cities to be his territory and hunting ground. However, the homeless camp on Lake Shore Drive in Uptown is closest to his heart, as it was his home for a long time following his return from Vietnam.
You and Wauneka sit back against the concrete underpass, watching the local unhoused settle in for the night. Many - too many - wear tattered camouflage from their time in the various branches of the American military. Your heart may not beat anymore, but it can still break. Fortunately, the droplets of vitae welling up in the corners of your eyes cease at the sound of Wauneka's voice. "I heard from one of my people that you paid Naomi Stewart a little visit at her little school."
You nod. There's no point denying it. Still, you keep your voice calm and casual. No need to pique the interest of any of the nearby homeless. "You heard right. However, it was only a personal visit - not any of the elite club's business. Naomi is probably the Blue Blood highest on the pecking order that doesn't share Blood with the Old Prince. That, combined with that rumor of her training a cabal of thin-blooded assassins, meant I had to meet her for myself."
"And?"
"While I don't think she's planning to overthrow the Prince, she is teaching the Caitiff and thin-blooded about the Traditions. An alternative to Critias' Eternal Academy, she calls it."
Wauneka snorts. "Great. Another potential breach of the Masquerade to keep an eye on. Is there any truth to the rumors that she might run for Capone's old spot on the Council?"
"She gave me the old politician's non-answer, but I think she's prepared to take on Ballard for the role."
Wauneka grunts. "Well, better her than that fat fuck Ballard, I say. I have no idea why Gabriella still hangs out with him. Even the Seneschal, his own childe, can't stand him."
Wauneka slumps forward, folding his arms atop his knees and resting his chin on them. "Look at this shit, Artie. People like us are fighting and dying out in the jungles and deserts while fat cats like Horatio Ballard get to stay home and sit atop an ever-growing pile of cash. We could do more with that money in a week than the elites ever could."
"I can't say I disagree with that sentiment," you reply with a sigh. "I mean, just look at all the vets here. Who knows how many times they got screwed over by the VA? Who knows how much they still dream of the battlefields they left behind? They deserve better than this."
If it weren't for Annabelle promoting your work, there was a good chance you'd end up yet another homeless vet on the mean streets of Chicago. However, you managed to strike it rich in the local art scene while so many others struggle to get by. While you've donated much of your profits to veterans' charities like the one that employs Valerie, there must be more you can do.
Then it hits you. While many vampires have hired mortal bodyguards to safeguard them, many more are bereft of such protection. A private security company catering to Chicago's Kindred community could win you allies among the living and mawali among the undead. Contracts to secure havens and domains could prove quite lucrative. However, even if other Kindred won't trust your people to secure their resting places, there's still money to be made in providing armed backup. Going into private security could also be a great way to meet valuable contacts and win more influence you can use to help veterans.
You've already recruited willing vessels from among the city's former military. If you were to offer fair pay and a chance to take up arms again, you bet that you could convince people to come and work for you. Of course, starting such a venture is rarely as easy as it sounds, but for now, at least, you only need to decide on a name.
[] [NAME] Crossguard Security
[] [NAME] Darkblood PMC
[] [NAME] Red Fang Services
[] [NAME] Vitae Protection
[] [NAME] Let me write a name for my new private security business.
