Mythic V20 - Bruce is a Brujah: Phoenix by Night
Bruce is a Brujah.  

Bruce has a Character Sheet.

His Sire is an English Lord.  He was Embraced in 1999.  His Haven in Glendale, Arizona... The nicer part of Phoenix.

Glendale has a Wiki.

In some ways, he's never left.  

Bruce was Embraced on a business trip to England.  When he returned on a first-class night flight chartered by his client, he realized that until he could afford such things, he was trapped in Phoenix.  No day flights or even red-eye flight was going to be secure enough for him to avoid the sun.  Especially not here.

He wondered in those first nights if the Prince of Phoenix would kill him when he found him.  He did not.  Despite his Sire's lack of presentation, he was Acknowledged as Clan Brujah among the older Kindred.

The only other Brujah in Phoenix is an old bastard who is Paranoid and lives outside the city in a trailer park inhabited by Natives who work locally.  They don't bother him because they think he's unlucky.

Brujah Primogen Jim is a Retired US military sort of guy who shoots his rifles at night for fun, and entertains drinking parties where the booze just keeps on flowing until the boys and girls either flock back to where-ever they came from or end up party favors for old Uncle Jim.  

He believes in UFO's and Men in Black, God bless 'im.  But Jim's reliable for just about any Black Market good you may be seeking.  Good guy to know.

Too bad he's not Bruce's friend.  

Bruce has a law practice.  Bruce makes a few phone calls.  Bruce and Jim haven't met.

((Bruce drives out to the trailer park that Jim is supposed to haunt, somewhere outside of Glendale.  Does anything bad happen on the way?))

(50/50 | 4[d10]) No.

The drive is uneventful, thankfully.  

((Pulling over to the side of the highway outside the entrance to the trailer park, Bruce pulls out his cell phone and calls Jim with the contact phone number he was given.  Does anyone answer?))

(50/50 | 8[d10]) Yes.


((Greeting Jim cordially))

"Uncle Jim?  This is a friend of Riley's.  You remember your English cousin, Riley?"

((Does Uncle Jim respond positively?))

(Very Likely | 10[d10]) Yesand...
*"Wellll sure! But let's not talk on the phone, it's less... personal. You know where Desert's Edge RV Village is? Up by the Dam Park."

He says it like he's damning the park.

"Yeah, yeah, I can be there in minutes."

*It's the unnumbered RV in the back."
You have a good writing style. I bet you write quite a bit. Thank you for sharing this.
There aren't any pedestrians so I park quietly.

((Does anyone notice me inside the RV park?))

(Unlikely | 6[d10]) Yesbut...

Great, a couple of kids smoking pot are hanging out nearby.  Looks like they are more sketched out than I am.

I'll take my chances.  

I make sure the grey 4-door is locked and try not to stomp on the wood steps leading up to the door.

An unnumbered RV door is illuminated by a single-bulb (the new kind).  It get's pulled open violently.

I can't see who is inside, but a gravelly voice directs me to enter.

((Is it Uncle Jim?))

(Very Likely | 9[d10]) Yes.

Inside the RV is a "living area" with a kitchenette decorated in newspaper clippings and maps with lines drawn on them.

Uncle Jim greets me from a dark corner that gets lighted with a small click.

"Get your ass in here and shut the goddamned door.  Riley, huh? What the fuck does that Limey bastard want with me?  Are you his child?"

I consider carefully which question to answer first.

Uncle Jim is an older man I'd guess.  

((What does Uncle Jim look like?))

Quarrelsomely / Remarkable.

His trucker-size baseball cap proudly reads U.S.S. Alabama.  His shirt reads "Don't Tread on Me", complete with serpent.

I shut the door.

Looking at the older vampire, it suddenly strikes me that he looks like the grampa from the Lost Boys... only paler.

Summoning the courage to introduce myself, I experience momentary diarrhea of the mouth.

"The name is Emmerson.  I'm an attorney.  Maybe you've seen one of my old ambulance chasing ads.  I'm as local as you, I'm guessing.  Brujah.  You too?"

((Does Uncle Jim confirm that he is a Brujah?))

(Sure Thing | 8[d10]) Yes.

"Well of goddamned course I am.  The only clan worth a damn in these parts, I think.  I mean, there ain't no leader of the Rabble here.  I got a contact list."  

"What would that be worth to ya?"

I try and see the setup as is it were.  What's his angle?  He clearly doesn't trust me as far as he can...

The clicking of his laptop keyboard overrides my paranoia.

"How about a favor?  I'm a lawyer, you see."

((Will Uncle Jim accept an offer a Minor Boon for his Kindred contact list?))

(Somewhat Likely | 3[d10]) No.

"A favor?  You think I want to sue somebody.  You better come up with something better than that.  You slick talking assholes are what's wrong with the country!"

I give it another go, this time with the charm turned up to the max.

((Using Presence 1, Awe - Charisma 3 + Performance 0, diff. 7))

19 = 9[d10]+1[d10]+9[d10]

"Look, Jim, I'm sure sorry it seems like I just came in here expecting favors.  Let's start again."

[Using Presence: 2 successes so up to 2 people affected, perfect...]

Uncle Jim grins.

"You've got more charm than brains.  Tell you what, slugger, I'll -give- you the list.  I'll let you figure out who you can actually carry on a conversation with and who you should avoid on your own.  

"This is a list of location at times and drop locations for communications, soldier.  All communication and contact MUST be through these means.  Capiche?  You try rooting around town looking for havens, your likely to get the attention of authorities you don't look too capable of shaking."

I nod as he hands me a paper printed from a tiny scanner printer near the unused sink.

I fold the thing up like it was Social Studies homework and nod more.

He refocuses after peering at some email.

((What does Uncle Jim want for the list?))

Oppress / Inside.

"What I need from you is your fucking mouth shut for starters.  You're a lawyer, so consider anything we talk about privileged information.  You got that?"

"In add-ition, I need you to kick some shit downhill.  Consider this one a freebie from the list.  

"His name is Frederico Gonzales.  He's a Brujah, still thinks he's one of the Latin Kings.  My child.  Needs a wake-up that don't make the other clans freak out.  Keeping it in the family, you understand?"

I think I get it.  I work up the courage to actually sit down in the unlighted living area.

"So you need me to put the fear of Jesus in this Latino gang-banger?  Do I look like gangster?"

((How does Uncle Jim suggest I "scare straight" his wayward child, Frederico?))

Negligence / Lies.

"He's too busy sucking on chicas full of dope that he's gone and got himself an "interested party".  

"We'll call this a test of the Emergency Broadcast System.  You get to him and deliver this message, I'll consider us square.  I may even enlighten you as to who the others are on that list."

The list contained 12 different contacts.  The sixth one was Fred G.

"What's the message?  I haven't been a legal courier since before I graduated.  This ought to be easy."

Uncle Jim produces a magazine from one of the cabinets above the empty sink.  There are stacks of them in there.  Newspapers, magazines, posters, everything.  And in a moment it was shut tight again.  Tantalizing and maddening, I wondered what all the papers and photographs were for.

But I wondered to myself.  No time for conspiracy theories, I tell myself.

Uncle Jim takes out a Sharpie and starts drawing on the magazine.  It's an issue of Popular Mechanics.  On the cover is a weather balloon.

The writing on it now reads, "Talk is cheap.  Marching Orders as follows.  Recruitment.  Resource acquisition.  Reconnaissance.  Report to #-"

Guessing that his 'signature' was #-, I took the magazine.  A part of me wished I knew what the message meant (being the messenger sucks).

Thinking solidly that I am the "Recruitment" phase, I prepare for the worst.  Hell, I'll get through this 'initiation'.  I'm a fucking vampire now.

Uncle Jim furrows his bushy brow and pulls off his unneeded glasses to look at me squarely.  "The Latin Kings are dangerous and stupid.  Here's where Fred's guys sell dope."

Uncle Jim turns the magazine that he wrote on previously in my hand.  The sticker on the magazine from the post office had it's original address marked out and another written in marker.

With my mission in hand, I give Uncle Jim a salute and head out.

He admonishes me once again as I pull open the door to the RV.  "You gotta be better than that, Emmerson.  You can't afford to be stupid and you don't look very dangerous at the moment."

Uncle Jim smiles with fangs showing, "You have the Brujah curse, you'll show your hand sooner or later, all claws and fangs.  No slick talking will get you away from the Beast, boy.  Make sure you plan on it.  Make sure you know what happens every single time.  Because it will be the moment you slip that They will catch you.  Black Hands and Black Hats, you won't have a goddamned chance."

He looks back at his email, putting his glasses back on.

"Go on, git."

I leave the RV.  

I do hope you'll continue posting your play, Galladrick. I miss old V:tM and I've enjoyed your posts so far. Half the reason I finally signed up here was to cheer you on.
Bruce is a Brujah.

Bruce's haven is in Glendale, Arizona, a white suburb of Phoenix.

Bruce has been told by the Brujah Primogen, Jim, that his wayward Kin, a neonate named Frederico, is still in love with his "day" job: being a gangster.  


It seems the Latin Kings of Phoenix trickled in from Utah back when "W" was President (those Crazy 0's).  Thug-wannabees at first, the Latin Kings quickly rose to quasi-dangerous status after assassinating a Phoenix cop in broad daylight.  Thank God for Google.

Fast-forward to tonight.  Frederico apparently doesn't understand that you can't play at being Brujah.  What Uncle Jim wanted me to do was remind him that he's a Brujah first and a Latin King second.  How I do that is entirely up to me.  I mean, gangsters can be powerful friends.  

And outrageous enemies.

Harmon Park is in a Latino neighborhood.  I'm driving a rented Jeep.

Is there anyone in Harmon Park at 10:00 pm?

(Somewhat Unlikely | 6[d10]) No, but...

Wildly / Young.

There's no one in the park, but there is a car parked on the opposite side.

I can feel the Thirst rise in the back of my mind.

How many blood points do I start with this evening?

10 = 10[d10]

I fed earlier on a cat.  It wasn't very satisfying but it did the trick.  
Having human blood seems... 

Willpower versus Thirst (unsatisfied) diff. 5:

40 = 2[d10]+7[d10]+5[d10]+2[d10]+4[d10]+7[d10]+3[d10]+10[d10]

(4 successes)

Some kids are making out in the truck parked across the way.  He wears a baseball cap.  She's doing things to him.  I miss having a girlfriend.

I refocus.

Since they aren't actually -in- the park, I cut off the engine and climb out of the Jeep.  Deciding to take a stroll across Harmon Park at 10pm, I stay keenly aware of my peripheral vision.  

Do any drug dealers appear?

(Likely | 5[d10]) No, but... +Event: Oppress / A plan

Wonderful.  Five-Oh.

The police pull right in next to the kids who were having sex, shining a big light.  The pair separate quickly.  The driver shifts gear and pulls out.  His young lady friend freshens up.

The cop gets out and goes over to the driver.

I scram.

Walking away from the police and the horny teenagers, I return to my Jeep but don't get in.

I just stand there messing with my iPhone.  

Eventually the whole scene evaporates.  The cop makes his way around the park after stopping with the kids.  He doesn't even look my direction.

Good, I think, just keep on driving.


Does a drug dealer eventually appear after the cop and the kids leave?

(Likely | 7[d10]) Yes.

About 20 minutes later...

How long does it take?

18 = 3[d10]+7[d10]+6[d10]+2[d10]

(18 minutes)


Eager freak of nature.

Is he Hispanic?
(Likely | 7[d10]) Yes. +Event: Divide / Realities

"Hey, bitch."

A strange boy walking down the street in his grey hood, chugging down a Rock Star energy drink.

"Excuse me?"

"What up, what up?"

"Hows it going?" I manage to spit it out.  I know I sound like a douche.

Hoodie guy grabs my junk.


"Man, I'm just playing with you."

The boy in the hoodie looks made-up, with lots of piercings in his lip, his nose, his eyebrow, and his tongue.

"You looking for something?"

"Yeah... I'm looking for Fred."

The hoodie guy with all the piercings completely ignores what I said.  "You wanna get high?"

This guy was already high, it appeared.  Was he gay?  I didn't know.  Flirty and fucked up, I think.

"No, I'm looking for Fred.  I wanna get high with Fred, you know Frederico, champ?"  

"OH MY GOD OH MY GOD, seriously, lets get high first."  The grey hoodie comes down and I can see a big frizzy head of hair.

Presence - Awe (Charisma + Performance)

26 = 8[d10]+8[d10]+10[d10]
((3 successes, totally))

My Presence in the park is now a bit more noticeable.

"Shit, are you a DJ?  You must be important, talking like you know 'Rico."  

He produces a crack pipe and starts messing with it while he talks to me.

"Come on, bitch."
Interesting read, keep going. Even if I only know the New WoD stuff, i always enjoy these "actual play" write-ups.

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