Post by SinfulAfterDark on Apr 30, 2016 0:35:09 GMT -5
Hello neonate,
I am going to be blunt here, straight out blunt.. like it or not. Vegas is our kind of town, you see? I honestly believe there isn't a better town in the world to be dead in. The Masquerade is relatively easy to enforce: With Kine working and visiting around the clock, no one notices a few more, and things that might seem odd elsewhere are perfectly normal here. In a "normal" city, people cake notice when you're around every night but don't actually work, eat or change clothes. In Vegas, it's assumed that you're just another lucky stiff on vacation. When people throw money around in other cities, everyone gets curious. But in Vegas, throwing money around is Standard Operating Procedure. It's all but impossible to look out of place with so many different outfits, accents and attitudes, a 13th Century Scotsman and a 2nd Century Roman Centurion, both in full garb, can sit and share a drink without anything worse than the occasional, "Which casino do you work at?"
Las Vegas Kindred feed with ease. Strange people don't seem so strange here, where staged shows and pyrotechnic displays occur on every street comer. So many Kine come and go that no one notices if a few disappear. Some on the Strip don't care themselves, they came to the city chasing a dream of wealth, only to have Lady Luck spit on them; now they wander, searching for one last chance to hit it big, but knowing the opportunity has already passed. Some turn violent, some suicidal, some become criminals or prostitutes, but most just stumble through life. no longer interested in the scenery. Such people make easy prey. Las Vega does have police, of course, but they're there to make sure no one destroys property or harms another patron—if someone disappears and no one reports it, who's to know?
Vegas is a great place to live forever. So, I need to make sure you don't mess it up for the rest of us.
See, you've died at a weird time. The Kine have, in recent decades, become incredibly fascinated with our kind. Your kind, now. We're pop culture icons, imbued with sublimated sexual repression of a millions of teenage girls and bored housewives. Lucky us. But most of what's in the media about our kind is wrong, we make sure of that. At the behest of Prince Benedic, I've prepared a brief guide to help you sort out facts from the bullshit. Traditionally it would be up to your sire to explain all of this to your dumb ass. Lately, we've seen a rash of incompetence. Sires turning their childer loose on the streets without so much as telling them they might want to avoid the sun. Everyone's losing their heads over the end of the world. We can tolerate no further fuck ups. Like I said, you've died at weird time.
So here's your copy of "Being Undead for Dummies," your remedial course on sucking blood. Read it and read it well; this email won't be here the next time you check. Because if you fuck up, I'll personally stake you and leave you in one of Prince Benedic's penthouse suites, right beneath the skylight.
Xander Batiste
Scourge of Las Vegas
I am going to be blunt here, straight out blunt.. like it or not. Vegas is our kind of town, you see? I honestly believe there isn't a better town in the world to be dead in. The Masquerade is relatively easy to enforce: With Kine working and visiting around the clock, no one notices a few more, and things that might seem odd elsewhere are perfectly normal here. In a "normal" city, people cake notice when you're around every night but don't actually work, eat or change clothes. In Vegas, it's assumed that you're just another lucky stiff on vacation. When people throw money around in other cities, everyone gets curious. But in Vegas, throwing money around is Standard Operating Procedure. It's all but impossible to look out of place with so many different outfits, accents and attitudes, a 13th Century Scotsman and a 2nd Century Roman Centurion, both in full garb, can sit and share a drink without anything worse than the occasional, "Which casino do you work at?"
Las Vegas Kindred feed with ease. Strange people don't seem so strange here, where staged shows and pyrotechnic displays occur on every street comer. So many Kine come and go that no one notices if a few disappear. Some on the Strip don't care themselves, they came to the city chasing a dream of wealth, only to have Lady Luck spit on them; now they wander, searching for one last chance to hit it big, but knowing the opportunity has already passed. Some turn violent, some suicidal, some become criminals or prostitutes, but most just stumble through life. no longer interested in the scenery. Such people make easy prey. Las Vega does have police, of course, but they're there to make sure no one destroys property or harms another patron—if someone disappears and no one reports it, who's to know?
Vegas is a great place to live forever. So, I need to make sure you don't mess it up for the rest of us.
See, you've died at a weird time. The Kine have, in recent decades, become incredibly fascinated with our kind. Your kind, now. We're pop culture icons, imbued with sublimated sexual repression of a millions of teenage girls and bored housewives. Lucky us. But most of what's in the media about our kind is wrong, we make sure of that. At the behest of Prince Benedic, I've prepared a brief guide to help you sort out facts from the bullshit. Traditionally it would be up to your sire to explain all of this to your dumb ass. Lately, we've seen a rash of incompetence. Sires turning their childer loose on the streets without so much as telling them they might want to avoid the sun. Everyone's losing their heads over the end of the world. We can tolerate no further fuck ups. Like I said, you've died at weird time.
So here's your copy of "Being Undead for Dummies," your remedial course on sucking blood. Read it and read it well; this email won't be here the next time you check. Because if you fuck up, I'll personally stake you and leave you in one of Prince Benedic's penthouse suites, right beneath the skylight.
Xander Batiste
Scourge of Las Vegas