You pull back with all your strength, trying to get your head away from the woman. But it's like pulling against the tide of the ocean; you wouldn't even know where to begin fighting this power. Though she seems uninterested in killing you-yet-all you feel in her presence is a consuming fear. Your instincts as a human demand you get far, far away from this creature. But she won't let you go.

She isn't even that imposing, physically. She's shorter than you by several inches, and she's standing on your toes to get up close to you like this. At this close of a distance her blonde hair is starting to wriggle beneath your eyepatch and irritate your scar. You see her red eyes dancing across your face with childlike wonder, like she's never seen someone up this close before. "Wow," you hear her whisper. "they're so dirty up close..."

If your heart wasn't beating like a jackhammer you might have the courage to protest that. But it is, and you don't; you probably look pretty terrible drenched in sweat, anyway. The mystery woman continues her inspection, ignorant to your fears. You can see behind you, in the mirrors above the sinks, a better look at the vampire. You notice she's in nothing but a yellow sundress and sandals. Is she mad? Even she must be able to feel cold, right? You came here in a heavy frock and mittens, for heaven's sake!

"So EXCITING!" she squeals as she tightens her vicelike grip. "I have so many questions, Bartolomè!"

Questions that you have no intention of sticking around to answer. Every synapse in your brain is passing along the same message: GET AWAY. But, how?

>1. Try and slip out of her grip. Maybe you can make a break for it. (1d100+2)
>2. Scream for help.
>3. Try and reach a Black Key, and stab her. (1d100+10)
>4. Get to your phone. Dial Catarina.
>5. Humor her. Maybe she'll let her guard down if you play along.
>6. Pray for deliverance.
>7. Try something else.

>>30040641
>5. Humor her. Maybe she'll let her guard down if you play along.
Running away from or stabbing someone like her?
We'd need a nat 100 for something like that,

Rolled 83 + 10

>>30040641
>3. Try and reach a Black Key, and stab her. (1d100+10)

>>30040821
This is unbearable. Every moment you spend in the company of this vampire drives you further into insanity. Something howls at you to force your way through, to escape. You have no intent to disobey that voice. The woman is so focused on you that you doubt she'd notice if you slipped a hand into your frock... and...

There is a squelch. Blood splatters the walls, and you. When she wasn't looking you drove the Black Key straight through her heart. The blade pokes out the other side; it was a perfect penetration, and her blood slides down the blade before dripping onto the tiles at your feet.

And she blinks. Your skin crawls in revulsion and disgust. You pierced her heart, and she blinked. Her eyes curiously travel down to where your weapon has pushed through her, and the noise she makes is more like the whine of a puppy than anything resembling pain. "Mm..." Her brow creases, and she looks upset as she backs away from you, taking the Black Key with her. The vampire's left hand casually raises, her fingers curling one by one around the hilt. Slowly, very gently, she pulls on the blade, moaning in a brief instant of pain as the metal slips back out the way it entered. Every inch of you trembles as she removes the weapon with only the slightest of discomfort, tilting her head as she observes the Key. It spins around as her fingers manipulate it, getting a good look at every inch of its surface. You stare at the wound, the red hole in her chest as it quietly pulls itself shut. There isn't even a scar.

The woman glances at you, only for a second, and frowns. "Five," you hear her say. Then something you don't understand happens. She swipes her hand in front of you, and there is a feeling like a massive vacuum is pulling you. You do not move, but the remaining four Black Keys slip out from your frock and into her hand. She catches them flawlessly, tucked between her fingers as they receive the once over from her prying eyes.

"Bartolomè!" she scolds you once she's done, a pouting expression on. Her finger rings around the hole where you punctured her dress. "I can't believe this is already ruined. All this red on it..."

How could that possibly be the first thing on this creature's mind right now? You're too frightened to further question the logic of it, considering the rapidity with which she healed her wounds. And robbed of your weapons, you're clearly out of her league. She could break you in two right now, but she just takes a few steps closer again, with a friendly smile and her hands held behind her. "Still, I was hoping you could help me, Bartolomè."

>1. Help... with what?
>2. Run as fast as you can. (1d100+2)
>3. What ARE you?
>4. Do something else.

>>30040641
>>5. Humor her. Maybe she'll let her guard down if you play along

>>30041286
Oh Jesus Christ, it`s Arcueid.

>1. Help...with what?

Because we're not getting away from that shit.

>>30041286
>>1. Help... with what?

Rolled 99 + 2

>>30041286
Run, she won't kill us so it is worth a shot.

>>30041432
How do you figure? We're an ordinary man with human limitations. She's a superhuman entity so far beyond us that most of her power is tied up drinking the blood of everyone she sees. If she wants to talk to us, we're going to have to listen one way or another.

>>30041458
*tied up forcing her not to drink, that is.

Rolled 46 + 2

>>30041458
She won't harm us , we have nothing to lose by running. We might get to the enforcer before she catches us.

>>30041286
>Help... with what?

>>30041562
>she won't harm us
She will. In the VN, she had all the intentions to dice Shiki into a thousand pieces if he refused her offer. Even she won't kill now, she will force her wishes on Bartolome, whether he likes it or not.

Rolled 52 + 2

>>30041624
1.Metagaming
2.I'm not advocating refusing her offer

She will catch us, then we can accept, but first it is probably a good idea to try to get the enforcer to know where we are.

>>30041355
>>30041369
"Help... what do you want my help for?" It's an honest question. What on earth could a Dead Apostle want from a lowly priest such as you? Besides your death, you suppose. But if she wanted that, she'd have it ten times over. The girl's toes tap on the floor as she begins.

"Well, I was hoping you could answer a question."

"Name it."

Her head swivels around, looking confused. "What is this place?"

Silence. Your brain is full of static. Your lips draw taut and lack any expression as you blink a few times, waiting for the actual question. None comes. You try to open your mouth and reply, but you falter a few times with stutters and confused droning. "Uh... a bathroom!"

"No!" she exasperatedly clenches her fists, arms at her sides as she leans toward you. "Not here. HERE!" She points at the door, and you assume she means what lies outside. "There's so many humans in one place. What is this place? Why are they all here?"

You suppose that makes a little more sense, but not by much. How could she find her way here without understanding what it is?

>1. It's... an airport?
>2. You could have asked any stranger that. Why me?
>3. Something else.

>>30041692
>1. It's... an airport?
>2. You could have asked any stranger that. Why me?

Both of them.

>>30041692
>1. It's... an airport?
>2. You could have asked any stranger that. Why me?

>>30041714
Going with this

>>30041714
this

>>30041714
>>30041726
"It's an airport." Your body hugs the wall closely, your fear stewing with growing confusion. The woman now holding your weapons doesn't seem to be any less confused, looking unsatisfied with your answer. Her lips tug down and her eyebrows go up as she waits for a better one.

Slowly you tender the question, "Do you... know what an airport is?"

She shakes her head.

"An airplane?"

The same response. "Oh, dear." You let out a shaky breath. "How do I explain? Er... it is a terminal--or, perhaps, a meeting place. People come here and board flying devices called airplanes. These then take them great distances, to other cities and nations."

"Ohh..." she croons, following your logic. "But, why would they do that?"

"Well, er, lots of reasons. Some people have jobs that take them all over the world. And others go on vacations to distant places for fun, and to relax." The girl is perking up, eyes lit up like jewels in the sun as she takes in every word. You're not sure how she could find your poor explanation so enthralling. It's like speaking to a child. "I am sorry, truly," you insist. "but... why would you ask me this, exactly? Anyone else here could have told you this. But you sought me. Why?"

Her lips are sucked inwards in an uncomfortable expression. The woman looks down at her feet, shifting them slightly. "...The man said I should trust you."

"...What?" You balk.

"The man who woke me up," she explains, like it's the most natural thing in the world. "He told me 'Bartolomè is a nice person. You should be nice to him, too.'" She slinks an arm underneath yours and sidles up to you, smiling. "So I came and found you, Bartolomè." You avert your gaze as her eyelids teasingly flutter at you.

>1. You shouldn't just trust people at their word like that!
>2. He was wrong. My duty is to destroy things like you.
>3. ...Who was this man?
>4. "Woke up"?
>5. Run.
>6. Something else.

>>30042053
>...Who was this man?

>>30042053
>3. ...Who was this man?

>>30042053
>3. ...Who was this man?

>>30042073
>>30042161
>>30042166
You pause, and ask in a low whisper. "Who was this man?" The woman scratches at her lip with a finger, trying to remember him.

"He never told me his name. I guess it didn't really matter to him what I called him."

"Well, what did he look like then?" you plead. "Please."

She gives you a more helpful answer this time. "He was a little taller than you. He looked weird, kind of shriveled up and stuff. He had a lot of lines on him."

"Lines? Do you mean that he was old?"

She snaps her fingers, having experienced some revelation. "Yeah! That! He was old. Um, let's see, he had silver hair, and a really cool beard. Very bristly." She focuses on her fingers, counting off the features she can recall. "He talked funny, like he didn't know the language he was speaking."

"Did he speak a language besides English?"

She stares at you from the corner of her eye. "What's English?"

"The language we're speaking," you answer, refusing to acknowledge the absurdity of the conversation.

"Ohhhh. What else, what else? Oh!" She presses her face up against your chest and wraps her fingers around the rosary you wear. "He had this thing too!"

A rosary? Your heart skips a beat. It couldn't be, yet it all adds up perfectly. A man with a cross or rosary. Surely a man of the cloth, or of faith. He wasn't a native English-speaker, and the silver hair and beard. It couldn't be, though. That could describe millions of people on Earth. But everything around you has become so strange, you can't just pass it off as coincidence.

Something convinces you that the man this woman is describing is your father, Hidalgo de la Fuente.

>1. Please, tell me where this happened. Where were you when this man woke you, and where did he go?
>2. Are you sure you remember nothing else? What else did he tell you?
>3. Do you have a name?
>4. Why were you sleeping? Why did he wake you up?
>5. Ask if you can leave now.
>6. Run.
>7. Do something else.

>>30042371
>1. Please, tell me where this happened. Where were you when this man woke you, and where did he go?
>2. Are you sure you remember nothing else? What else did he tell you?
>3. Do you have a name?
>4. Why were you sleeping? Why did he wake you up?

ALL THE QUESTIONS

1 is priority

>>30042428
You can't escape now. Even if you still wanted to, you know you'd stand no chance at getting away. But you're certain that you can't leave yet. If this girl is connected to your father, then you can't afford not to ask every question you can. "Please, tell me where this happened. Where were you when this man woke you, and where did he go?"

"Um." Her eyes roll around in their sockets rhythmically as she thinks. "Well, I went opposite the pole when I left so, that way." She points at a nondescript urinal. You watch it for a few moments, and then she clarifies, "North."

"But where did it happen?"

"I don't remember," she tells you. "I remember a dark forest, and a lot of grey stone. But I was still so groggy... I hadn't even eaten yet."

A shiver runs up your spine against your will. An unwelcome reminder that the pretty girl wrapping herself around your arm is the same beast that killed that poor person back on the road. You can't afford to let your guard down, even if she of worth to your search for Hidalgo. "Are you absolutely sure that you remember nothing else? Was there anything that he told you?"

"He said something." Her eyelids flutter lazily. Just calling up the memory makes her drowsy. "It was about something important. I had to help him with something, someday. In return for waking me up."

"With what? Help him with what?"

She makes a defeated smile, and her head shakes again. "No clue. Sorry."

Your head bows, and frustration itches in your head. You've learned almost nothing, and gained nothing but the attention of a horrifying abomination. You start to worry that the nonstop sweat might be getting through your clothes as the girl nuzzles you. You think you preferred the ones that openly tried to murder you.

"Do you know why this man woke you up?"

"Nope," she states with confidence. "He just said he needed help, and that I could help him."

"And why you? Why were you sleeping?"

"I don't... remember that either," she murmurs. She idly scratches behind her ear as she thinks about it. "Drawing a blank. It's been too long since I went to sleep."

You wonder how long "too long" might be. If this girl is too old to know what an airplane is, or what the English language is...

"Do you have a name, miss?"

Her head jolts up. "Hm?"

"I said do you have a name?"

"Aldric," replies the... woman? "Aldric Brunestud."

"Er..."

>1. That's a man's name. I think.
>2. Well, Aldric, I really think I should be going...
>3. You found me, and you asked your question. Are we done here?
>4. I have more questions for you.
>5. You said my friend is distracted. Is he all right?
>6. Do you intend to kill me?
>7. How are you supposed to meet this man again, to help him?
>8. Do something else.

>>30042968
>. You said my friend is distracted. Is he all right?

>>30042968
>1. That's a man's name. I think.
>5. You said my friend is distracted. Is he all right?
>6. Do you intend to kill me?

>>30043121
This but with 7 added

>>30043121
>>30043357
"Aldric?" you ponder. "I'm fairly certain that is a man's name."

"Aldric" does not react verbally. They just keep smiling at you. You're not entirely certain if that's meant to be an answer in itself. "Well. 'Aldric.' You've had your questions, but I have a few more of my own. I came here with a friend. His name was Wayne Tepes; he should be here by now. Where is he, and what have you done with him?"

"Oh. The weird guy," Aldric says. "I played a trick on him, and he went running off after it." The vampire shrugs coyly. "I didn't keep an eye on him after that. He could be anywhere. Not here though." The foreign arm slips down your own before its fingers try to lace around your own. Your nerves ball your hand up into a fist, and Aldric titters at the resistance. Wayne could be in trouble out there; you have to get to him, and soon. But with this creature glued to you...

"I will ask bluntly. Do you intend to kill me, Aldric?"

Their head shifts to the left, and for all the world Aldric couldn't possibly look more distressed. "Why would I kill you?" is the question posed. Why wouldn't you, is your response, though you don't say it aloud. There is a force on your shoulder, and suddenly you're spun around to be face to face with Aldric again. The Dead Apostle looks up at you with bright, childlike eyes and a dissonant smile as your fist is cupped in dainty hands. "I only kill food. But you're not food! You're Bartolomè!"

It's said so innocently that the horror of it doesn't settle in properly. This is not the face of a vicious killer. These are not the words of a vicious killer. But their deeds, the ones you've seen with your own eyes insist that Aldric Brunestud is exactly that.

"What do you intend, then?" you ask.

Aldric shrugs. "I don't know. Maybe ask you more questions? Having a human who isn't food might be good for learning."

Again with that. Casually referring to such ominous things... You nervously gulp down a was of spit. But their intentions, at least for the moment are clear.

"But what of the old man?" you ask. "He needed your help at some point. How will you find him when he does, if you're following me?"

"Humans aren't hard to find," Aldric assures you. "I'll just go find him! But until then..." A hand grabs your head and pulls it down beside Aldric's, and warm breath brushes past your ear. "I'm sure there's lots of things we can do to pass the time, Bartolomè."

>1. Absolutely not!
>2. Fine. It's not like you really have a choice...
>3. It's not up to me.
>4. Something else.

>>30043837
>Absolutely not!

>>30043837
>2. Fine. It's not like you really have a choice...

>>30043837
>>1. Absolutely not!

Yea that's not happening.

>>30043837
>3. It's not up to me.

>>30043837
4 Remain silent

>>30043930
>>30044068
"Absolutely not!"

You yank every inch of yourself to get away from Aldric, but her grip is too much. You can only struggle in vain as she looks at you, baffled.

"I don't understand. I'm being nice, aren't I? Why are you acting so strangely, Bartolomè? The man said to be nice to you so you'd be nice back."

"That doesn't--I can't!" you insist. "I refuse!" You have to get out of here. Your eyes gaze longingly at the door. If you can just get out of this place you can run, and find--

The door is kicked in. A knife hurls through the air and strikes Aldric between the eyes. Her confusion lasts only a single instant, but it's enough time for you to wriggle away from her. The moment you're up, the hilt of a sword is handed to you. Your sword. "Come on, Bart," says your rescuer, Wayne. "Take it. You wanna cut her up as bad as I do, right?"

The Cross of Orleans is pushed into your hands, and you see Wayne step past you to face Aldric. But you can already tell, this is a mistake. The knife has already been wrenched from Brunestud's forehead, and as her tongue gathers up the blood flowing down from her head, her red eyes are focused, unblinking, on the Enforcer. A wave of killing intent is pressing down everything in her vicinity. None of the bizarre kindness she showed you is present in your eyes.

Of course it's not. Wayne isn't Bartolomè. He's food.

>1. Wayne, run!
>2. Aldric, leave him alone, he's a friend!
>3. Attack Aldric before she can kill Wayne. (1d100+12)
>4. Run for your life.
>5. Do something else.

>>30044648
>2. Aldric, leave him alone, he's a friend!

>>30044648
>2. Aldric, leave him alone, he's a friend!

>>30044648

>1. Wayne, run!

There's no way we can stop the two from fighting. Best we can hope is cover for his escape.

>restrain Aldric as Wayne flees

>>30044648
Wayne, run!

>>30044648
2. Aldric, leave him alone, he's a friend!

>>30044734
>>30044760
>>30045415
"Aldric, leave him alone!" you command. "Wayne is--"

Too late. The mage and the vampire move at once. But one is wholly superior to the other. Wayne thrusts forward with his knife, but the Dead Apostle flows around his strike like water. Three fingers hit Wayne's side. All three pierce him between his ribs. Veins bulge out of his skull as he screams in pain, but he is given no time to process the pain. A light pat on his back from the Dead Apostle slams him against the wall with the force of a hammer blow. The tile and marbling shatters from the force. Wayne's head is knocked back out from the wall from the recoil. His pale, bleeding face gets only a second to gasp in air before Aldric grabs him by the hair and slams him right back into the flat surface. She drags him to the right, and the mage's head cracks the mirror it strikes. A single hand lifts him up, and smashes Wayne's body against the sink.

Both objects break.

It was so fast you could hardly follow it. It couldn't have been more than a few seconds. Water is spraying from burst pipes, a slurry of it mixed with Wayne's blood pooling on the floor. The restroom is in ruins, debris scattered everywhere. And in the corner, you tremble with a sword in your hand as the vampire looms over your friend. Aldric halts the onslaught, for whatever reason, and stares quietly at her prey. Wayne has no retort he's strong enough to give. His heaving chest in a dripping wet shirt hacks up a few gobs of blood. He says nothing, eyes fixed on the floor. More blood is flowing underneath his shirt, gathering in areas that were not hit. His wounds from the battle with Klaus have re-opened. In just another moment, he'll be dead.

You have to do something.

>1. Aldric, I'm the one you want!
>2. Stab Aldric in the back. (1d100+12)
>3. Get between Wayne and Aldric.
>4. This is the only chance you'll have. Run.

>>30045722
>>3. Get between Wayne and Aldric.

>>30045722
>1. Aldric, I'm the one you want!
>3. Get between Wayne and Aldric.

>>30045793
this

>>30045793
this

>>30045722
Yes, protect him with our dear life, there's no time for anything else. Embrace him if need be, show Aldric that he's our friend. No homo.

>>30045793
>>30045887
>>30045945
Aldric moves to finish off the mage. With only one option to stop her, you throw yourself between the combatants. The vampire hesitates, and her hand stops a few inches from your face. A mist of water fills the room as a stream dribbles down your back. Your body shakes, but you grip the Cross of Orleans, and its warmth bolsters you well enough to raise it towards Aldric.

"I'm the one you want, Aldric. Wayne has nothing to do with this." Your heart is racing. "Now leave him alone."

The Dead Apostle has you in her focus again, and the innocence you glimpsed before has resurfaced in her expression. "That's so strange. Why would you defend him? He said you'd be nice, Bartolomè. I thought you'd be my friend."

>1. That's insane!
>2. No, Wayne is my friend. And you tried to kill him.
>3. Friends or not, I won't let you hurt anyone.
>4. It's not worth explaining to a monster like you.
>5. Say something else.

>>30046575
>3. Friends or not, I won't let you hurt anyone.

As if it can be anything else. We can't threaten, and the only way we get out of this alive is to appeal to her perception of us.

>>30046575
>I-Iam, but Wayne is my friend too. I can't let you hurt him, you see, that wouldn't be nice to him.

>>30046575
>2. Wayne is my friend. And you tried to kill him.
>3. Friends or not, I won't let you hurt anyone.

>>30046575
"But he's my friend Aldric, which means if I let you hurt him I would not be a nice person. And if I wasn't nice then we couldn't be friends, so I can't let you hurt him if you want to be friends with me."

>>30046575

>3. Friends or not, I won't let you hurt anyone

He's my friend too. Please don't hurt him.

Same goes the other way around.

Rolled 32

>>30046697
SImple. Baby talk. I second this.

>>30046697
>>30046639
These two.

>>30046697
>>30046639
>>30046755
The sword is just a desperate gesture. You're already certain it won't harm Aldric. At least, not for long. The only certainty you have is in appealing to her perception of you. "I am your friend," you assure her. "But Wayne is my friend too. If I were to let you hurt him, t-then... then I wouldn't be a nice person."

You look up at the girl who holds you and Wayne's lives in her hands, and meet a pair of very confused eyes. "Right?" The Dead Apostle's feet shuffle, and she bites down on her thumb in consternation. Blood trickles out from her lip. She doesn't seem sure how to take what you've said. You need to press the attack.

"A-and if I wasn't nice, then we couldn't be friends, right? So I can't. I can't let you hurt him if you really want to be friends with me."

Aldric takes a step backward. Her eyes have gone wide, stumped at the logic you've presented her. To your relief, she isn't rejecting it outright. "B-but... I..." She slumps. "Humans are weird! See, this is why I need your help Bartolomè. I don't understand how to interact."

"Not... killing everyone... might be a start." A hand rests on your shoulder. Wayne leans forward and rests his chin beside it. "Sorry, Bart. Apparently I'm not so good at heroic entrances. Ergh. But, hey... we should get going. We're gonna miss our flight. Are we bringing the daywalker or...?"

"Please!" she exclaims.

"Bring her?" you ask, blanching. "Wayne, she almost killed you!"

"Yeah," he growls. "And if it's the difference between her killing me and not, I'll host her damn family reunion! But... if you think we can run, you'd better start running."

>1. Fine. We'll bring Aldric.
>2. No. I'm sorry Aldric, but I don't have time for this.
>3. Grab Wayne and hightail it.
>4. [PERSUADE] I have a job to do, Aldric. I'll answer all your questions when I return. But for now, just let me work.
>5. Something else.

>>30047565
>1. Fine. We'll bring Aldric.

It's probably better to keep her close so we can keep an eye on her. If we let her go wandering off without us who knows what will happen.

This is going to go terribly awry, isn't it?

>>30047565
>1. Fine. We'll bring Aldric.
How to deal with the Demon Lord... any suggestions.

Rolled 13

>>30047619
>1. Fine. We'll bring Aldric.

>>30047662
Apparently demon lords can be dealt like children. Should be no problems. Just have to teach her ground rules first. Also, could be very very helpful companion.

>>30047707
.... a Demon Lord, a True Ancestor who took to drinking blood, aka the scariest mofos around these parts save a Heroic Spirit...so we are going to treat it like a little kid.... yeah this will be good.

Also I feel it is a trap...

>>30047741
And our dad awakened one.

>>30047707
>>30047741

We'll probably have to find a way to feed her that doesn't involve her having to go out hunting. Could probably ask if she attacked that man on the motorway as well while were at it (very likely, but not 100% certain).

If she hasn't killed yet we may be in luck.

>>30047775
>>30047766
She drinks blood, as long as she wants to drink blood her impulses will increase and she will crave it. There will be no end for this, where is Arc when we need her.

And by trap I meant that she is a he...

>>30047813
We call Catharina as soon as we can, like when he/she/it/the dead apostle is asleep on the plane.

>>30047813
Drinking blood is fine and dandy so long as its not directly from the vein. So lets do this smartly.

Aka blood packs and donor blood. You know, methods that are unlikely to end up making a ghoul at the end of it.

>>30047883
>>30047880
Dudes... she is probably a True Ancestor... aka giants fairies that were born vampires. The need to drink blood is psychological, and is not something easily controlled. There is a reason Arc prefers to go to sleep for hundred of years in between missions.

>>30047936
So just make sure if she does loose control its not into someones neck is all im suggesting.

>>30047971
There's pretty much no way we can stop her if she loses it. True Ancestors that go batshit are on an entirely different level than the vampires that usually get up to Dead Apostle status.

>>30048310
That's why we should call the woman who's called the ANGEL OF DEATH as soon as we're able. Hopefully she'll bring half the vatican worth of Executors.

>>30048310
>>30048416
Bro, they will send the Burial Agency after her, and that mean this city will go bye bye to kill her.

The church will not play with a Demon Lord, and they will exterminatus the city if they need to kill one.

>>30048450
The Church will not just carelessly Leeroy Jenkins at her. They know how killy TA are.

>>30047619
>>30047662
>>30047707
Your eye travels between Wayne and Aldric several times. "Are you sure about this, Wayne?"

"Of course I'm not!" he scoffs. "But at this point do we have any other choice?"

"I... I suppose not." To the vampire you say, "You may come with us. But you're to be on your best behavior until I decide what to do with you, all right?"

It's like a child experiencing their first Christmas morning. Aldric's eyes light up like stars, and she hops up to her feet, rapidly shifting from one to another in a little jig. "Oh, yeah! Yes, yes, please! Thank you! You won't regret it!" Her hands dart around and ignore your sword before biting down on your wrists and hauling you to your feet. Both her arms coil around you and hold you. "Thank you, Bartolomè! I swear, I won't mix up friends and food anymore."

"Ah, ah," you tut, trying to look like you aren't scared out of your wits. "That's not good enough. I'm a servant of the Lord, Aldric. When you're with me, everyone is a friend. Is that understood?"

"But then... where will my food come from?"

You rub the back of your neck. "I... don't know yet. But we'll figure something out. Wayne, any chance we're getting out of here unnoticed?"

"Er, better chance than you'd think. Remember how I said getting everything on the plane wouldn't be an issue? Well... hey, Clay! Get in here!"

In through the shattered remains of the restroom door walks a broad-shouldered man. A simple-looking man with short brown hair, a square chin, and a farmhand's build in a light blue polo and khakis. Clay, as he's called, stoops down to help Wayne to his feet. Your friend nods to the big man with a cocky grin. "Old acquaintance of mine. Magus named Clay Banner. Say hi, Clay."

The man takes one stern look at you as he gets Wayne to lean on his shoulder, and quietly nods. "Yup."

"...Hello to you, too."

"I went down and found him after I lost track of you, Bart, and he helped me figure out where you'd gone. Clay here's laid down a boundary field around the restroom. Noise-canceling, deters intrusion. The works, so nobody should be any the wiser about this... incident until we're halfway to Germany.. He already picked up our tickets, and our luggage is aboard our flight, so once I get changed into something... presentable, we can meet up at the plane, all right?"

The pair of mages trudge out the door, your friend waving as they go. "Toodles, Bart! Don't try to eat me next time, Aldric!"

And like that, they're gone, leaving you alone with the vampire again. Aldric beams at you with her pearly teeth. "Ready to go?" She sways back forth, letting her sundress flutter around her skin. The sundress stained red by her own blood.

>1. Let's go.
>2. Er, you should probably change first. You've got red on you.
>3. You should clean up first. Catch up to me at Terminal 10B, I'll go make sure we don't miss the flight.

>>30048624
>2. Er, you should probably change first. You've got red on you.

As much as ditching a child-like Dead Apostle seems appealing, Aldric seems to have a bit of a restraint when it comes to us.

Besides, it's better to keep a Daywalker Dead Apostle where we can see 'em.

Rolled 65

>>30048624
>2. Er, you should probably change first. You've got red on you.

While she changes and cleans up, we should probably lay down more ground rules. Enough to get us by through the flight and all.

Then...

>1. Let's go.

Don't want to leave her by herself and have her catch up by herself. We did explicitly state "when you're with me, everyone is a friend."

>>30048624
>>2. Er, you should probably change first. You've got red on you.

>>30048677
Daywalker Dead Apostol... no anon, if only she was that.

That is a Demon Lord, a True Ancestor that felled to the bloodlust.

>>30048624
>2. Er, you should probably change first. You've got red on you.

We have our suitcase with us last time I checked, and getting blood out of clothing is annoying and time consuming. So it looks like she's wearing some of our spare clothing.

If people ask should we say she's our sister, a nun, or something else. Because we should hammer out our cover story beforehand.

And do not leave her presence, we're sticking together.

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>>30048731
(I'm trying to remain In-Character. Blonde Hair + Red Eyes = a Brunestud, made in the image of Crimson Moon.

This one is at once puppyish sweet and wholly fucking terrifiyng as, IIRC their bloodthirst is like a cocaine addiction that will drive the physically perfect being with command over all of nature into an incurable frenzy. And now she thinks we're bestest friends <3!

Fuck.

If Daddy Dearest wasn't involved I would NOPE so hard out of this)

>>30048732

>If people ask should we say she's our sister, a nun, or something else. Because we should hammer out our cover story beforehand.

>And do not leave her presence, we're sticking together.

Both are excellent suggestions. Having a viable cover story when we're up to our arses in shady business and any demigod who snags the attention of the authorities will NOT end well. I'd recommend the cover story that she's a high-functioning autistic person in our care, and that we're visiting relatives of hers as her caretakers - it justifies the lack of social skills while making us look like decent people.

And never leave her presence. Lessons on morality and social skills will be ongoing, and baby-sitting the Crazy Vampire will be all that stands between us and insta-giblets or a walking PR nightmare for the Church AND Mages.

Also: we should appologise to Aldric at some point. Because "Friends Don't Stick Sharp Things Into Friends!"

>>30048965
We can probably stick with the priest thing, it'll lend a certain credence to us acting as a caretaker for someone who is a bit off. Maybe play us off as distant relatives as well, so of course they call the priest when they've got someone who needs a lot of care and patience.

Say that the Lord gives us the patience to endure many trials, and that she sees the world as a true innocent, and people will probably just stop asking questions at that point figuring it's just us being pious and kind.

And definitely apologize when we get a good chance, we didn't know at the time, but it was still rude.

>>30048965
That's pretty damn clever.

>>30048965
Sounds good

Rolled 89

>>30048965
Also: we should appologise to Aldric at some point. Because "Friends Don't Stick Sharp Things Into Friends!"

This must happen.

>>30048965
Let's make it happen.

>>30048677
>>30048704
>>30048708
"You should probably think about changing clothes first," you comment, referring to her bloody wardrobe. Aldric looks down at herself, ignorant of how she looks, but giggles when she sees all the blood.

"Haha, oops. That might have been a problem."

You're not sure what she means by "might," but you certain agree. Luckily, you have plenty of spare clothes to give her. Or at least, you did. A quick trip out of the restroom reminds you that you left the suitcase with Wayne. And HE apparently handed it off to Clay, who's smuggled it onto your plane. You stand in a river of human bodies, faceless men flowing past you while your hands clamp on your hips. "Everything has to be a struggle, doesn't it?"

...

It wasn't as difficult as you'd feared it would be. After convincing Aldric to stay in the restroom and wait, you went down to a nearby gift shop. You're not really sure how well they'll fit, but you found a sweatshirt and some pants for her to wear until you're in Germany. You stand out by the sinks, waiting as she changes in one of the stalls. A hand tosses her ruined sundress out of the stall, and you shiver as a curious gust of wind carries it into the nearest trash bin. Aldric hums a melody to herself, light and airy in tone. Considering the last twenty minutes, it's remarkably peaceful. Pleasant, even. You've begun to doze off by the time she steps back out.

"Ta-da!" It's not quite haute couture, but the hoodie suits her well enough. Some yellow cartoon character you don't recognize is plastered on the front. Though apparently the shorts you found weren't quite knee-length...

Revealing or not, Aldric doesn't seem to mind, and she thanks you for the clothes. With no more obstacles, you tell her it's time to go. "But stay close, all right?"

"Mm-hm!"

...

Staying close is harder than you expected. You've only made it halfway to the terminal, yet it feels like eons have passed. The moment you were out of the restrooms Aldric was a kid in a candy shop, bouncing from one side of the way to the other, sticking her head into every shop and corner she could find. A swarm of questions barraged you. "What's this paper about? What's that store for? Can you eat these? Why are people looking at my legs?" You've already had to apologize to several people she bowled over trying to get a closer look at. Thankfully, your position as a priest is a workable cover story for caring for someone so... energetic. It's only the least you could do for your "cousin", correct?

The girl's current flight of fancy is a coffee shop. It's not even anything special, just part of an overpriced chain. But Aldric has apparently never encountered the warm beverage before, and is pulling on your hand to take her inside. The bitter smell of freshly ground beans permeates the air, and more than a few passers-by are drawn in.

"Come on, come on, come on!" Aldric begs. Her tongue is all but wagging outside of her mouth as she lunges for the shop. "That smells INCREDIBLE, Bartolomè! I've got to try it!"

>1. We don't have time, we have to get to our flight.
>2. Take her inside. An alternative snack for Aldric wouldn't be unwelcome.
>3. Sure, you can have some. You have to pay your own way though.

>>30049404
>2. Take her inside. An alternative snack for Aldric wouldn't be unwelcome.

Rolled 48

>>30049404
>2. Take her inside. An alternative snack for Aldric wouldn't be unwelcome.

We are friends. Friends buy friends coffee.

>>30049404
>2. Take her inside. An alternative snack for Aldric wouldn't be unwelcome.

>>30049404
>2. Take her inside. An alternative snack for Aldric wouldn't be unwelcome.

It's friendly, it indulges her,

Make sure it's DECAF. I don't want to imagine a caffeine-tweaked Demon Lord.

>3. Sure, you can have some. You have to pay your own way though.
I don't know what our budget is like, but I don't imagine being an Executor allows for daily Starbucks, does it?

Rolled 62

>>30049495
>Make sure it's DECAF.
This pls.

>I don't know what our budget is like, but I don't imagine being an Executor allows for daily Starbucks, does it?

One coffee won't kill our budget. Also, I doubt she has money.

>>30049404
>>2. Take her inside. An alternative snack for Aldric wouldn't be unwelcome.

>>30049437
>>30049450
>>30049492
>>30049495
"All right, I'll buy you a cup. But you're getting decaf."

"Is decaf bad?" she asks warily.

"...Don't worry about it."

...

"Three, four, five fifty." You count out the amount of money due to the clerk and hand it over to him, and he thanks you for the purchase. Aldric clings to you tightly, oohing and ahhing at the sights. The walls are painted in warm, inviting tones, and calm music plays over the speakers. Patrons recline in cushy chairs, chatting in a variety of languages, wasting time until it's time to board. You shuffle up the line and let your companion watch as the barista works. He grinds the beans, and starts divvying up ingredients to add. You ordered her something with some flavoring added. You figured a black drink would be a bit too powerful to start with.

A few minutes later, she receives her drink at the counter, and you relocate to some nearby seats. Aldric quietly sips at her drink... and then her eyes shoot open. "Delicious!" she squeals, taking another gulp of the stuff. "This is incredible. Humans always find the most peculiar things!"

You nervously laugh off her statement as a man leers at her weird reaction. A few minutes pass, and you sink into your seat as you let her continue sipping. Her feet kick against the bottom of her seat, and Aldric's head bobs to the left and right along to the music.

She seems to be enjoying yourself.

>1. Take the time to ask Aldric something, or tell her something.
>2. Let the time pass quietly.
>3. Ask Aldric to drink on the way. You should really get to your terminal.

>>30050398
>3. Ask Aldric to drink on the way. You should really get to your terminal.

>>30050398
>1. Take the time to ask Aldric something, or tell her something.

Let's get a quick lesson on morality in. The Golden Rule is a good one to start with, empathy for others is an important concept.

Rolled 72

>>30050398
>1. Take the time to ask Aldric something, or tell her something.
"How's the coffee?" Followed by a quickie rule/lesson on how to be human.

>>30050625
>>30050657
these

>>30050398
I +1 this >>30050657
>1. Take the time to ask Aldric something, or tell her something.

"How's the coffee?" Followed by a quickie rule/lesson on how to be human. Also

Also, if we get the chance: "I wanted to apologise for sticking that Black Key in your chest. I was scared and thought you wanted to hurt me. I shouldn't have done that - friends shouldn't attack friends like that."


Before too long, though, we should go with
>3. Ask Aldric to drink on the way. You should really get to your terminal.

As much as I'd like to chat and get to know her better, there'll be hell to pay if we miss the flight.

>>30050398
>3. Ask Aldric to drink on the way. You should really get to your terminal.

>>30050398

>1. Take the time to ask Aldric something, or tell her something.

Yeah, apologize for stabbing her.

Also poor Wayne, I get the feeling this s far from the last time he'll be getting messed up

>>30050625
>>30050706
>>30050706
Sorry for the long delay. People insist I do inane thing for inane reasons. It's dumb.

With the music droning quietly, you lean forward a little in your chair. "How's the coffee?" you ask. Aldric reacts with a smile and a nod.

"It's sweet!" she exclaims. "But also... not sweet? I dunno, it doesn't really taste like blood. It's hard to place."

You cringe at the mention of blood. But you let it slide without comment and move on to something more important. "I'm glad you like it. But if you're going to be traveling with me, there need to be a few ground rules."

"Okay. What rules?"

"Well... let's start with something simple." You clasp your hands, feeling quite strongly that you won't be able to drill Biblical doctrine into her within the next five minutes. "It's called the Golden Rule. It's a very simple one: 'Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.'"

She frowns. "Uh..."

"It is simple, it's simple," you say, gesturing with your hands. "Let me sum up. Imagine if you were somebody else. If someone else were you, you would not that someone hurting you, yes?"

"I guess."

"It's just that! The idea is that you treat others kindly, and in return they will do the same to you."

Aldric chews her lip, sloshing the coffee around her cup. She's silent, and a pair of wondering eyes look up at you. "Why?"

"What do you mean, why?" you ask.

"Why not kill other people? What if I want something they have? Or if I'm hungry? If I'm stronger... then don't I have the right to take it?"

You feel a shiver of worry. "But that would lead to violence, and suffering. No one's nice in a world where everyone does that. We have laws, and punishments for people who do such things."

"If you say so, but..." she asks a question that chills you. "Who's strong enough to punish me?"

The Lord is, you think. But perhaps that isn't a subject worth brokering yet. "No one but yourself. But that should be enough. As long as we're here, teaching you these things... perhaps it is a good time to apologize. I shouldn't have stabbed you before. I was frightened, but it was a mistake. Friends should not do that to friends."

"Don't worry about it, Bartolomé!" She waves the issue off without a fuss. "Humans are very strange. They don't live very long, but they react so strongly to things. That's why I wanted to come with you. I'd like to learn more about why they're like that."

That's... certainly strange. If she's a vampire, then wasn't she human at some point? Why is she speaking so distantly about humans?

There is no time to ask. The clock is ticking. You ask Aldric to finish her drink on the way; you really need to get moving. She hops from her seat and follows you out.

...

"Yo, over here!" Wayne flags you down outside the gate to your flight. The area is surprisingly vacant, with only a few people milling about the grey-carpeted zone. Wayne's alone, and dressed in sweatpants and a maroon shirt. You and Aldric take your seats beside him, Clay nowhere to be spotted. You assume that he's gone off with his work finished.

"So we're a party of three after all, eh?" Wayne chuckles, handing a stub of paper to Aldric. Up close you can see he's been covered in bandages, and bruises are visible all over his face. Certainly didn't do anything to his attitude though. He isn't even fazed in the Dead Apostle's presence. "Good thing I bought the Angel's ticket in advance. You get it instead, Aldie. Oh, by the way, they've already started calling passengers through the gate. We'll be up in a couple of minutes. Have any trouble on the way?"

Before you can answer him, you feel a buzzing in your pocket. It's Catarina's cell phone ringing.

>1. Ask Wayne something.
>2. Answer the phone.
>3. Talk to Aldric.
>4. Wait to board your flight.
>5. Do something else.

Rolled 37

>>30052154
>3. Talk to Aldric.
Tell her you need to take this call. Briefly explain what that means, the idea of phones, etc.
>2. Answer the phone.
Pretend Aldric thing didn't happen when talking to Catarina.

>>30052154
>>2. Answer the phone.
She wouldn't be calling if it wasn't important, right?

>>30052154
"None at all, she likes coffee though."

Then
>2. Answer the phone.

We might want to fill Catarina in on this.

>>30052154
>2. Answer the phone.
At the very least, check it & see what Catrina has to say.

>1. Ask Wayne something.
"Trouble? None so far. Though I think Aldric has taken a liking to decaf."

Also:

"The Angel? You mean Catrina's ticket? What would you have done if she hand't come along? Air fare is costly these days!"

Surely Wayne didn't plan on bringing SOMEONE ELSE in our stead?

Also, we should talk to him about the Daywalker comment earlier. I don't think Bartolome is a Blade fan - it wouldn't surprise me if he thought sunlight just killed vampires outright.

>3. Talk to Aldric.
We should explain about what an aeroplane is, and why humans use them.

>>30052251
>>30052254
>>30052255
>>30052326
"Trouble?" you ask as you go fishing for your phone. "No, no trouble. But I think our friend here's taken a liking to decaf." The sound of Aldric slurping down the last of her coffee accompanies your words. Wayne nods sagely. "But if you don't mind me asking, Wayne, did you REALLY buy a third plane ticket just in case? Air travel is expensive!"

"Well, duh!" he retorts, jamming a finger your way. "But there's one thing you didn't anticipate about me, Bart: I'm TERRIBLE with money!" You'd laugh at his joke if you weren't so convinced it wasn't meant as one. For now, you need to check the phone. As you yank it from your pocket Aldric's eyes study it eagerly.

"It's a phone. I use it to talk to people from long distances."

She nods in understanding, and you click the answer button. "Hello?"

"Bartolomè." You didn't expect anyone on this phone but the stoic voice of Catarina. "Did you have a minute?"

"Um, I think I have a few," you say as you glance at the gate. "Was there something you needed?"

"Yeah..."

...

You are Sabrina Rao. The last few days are a hurricane in your memories, and it's all ended here. Tied down to a bed, immobile, unable to even wipe the tears sloshing on your cheeks. In the corner sits a strange and vicious woman, one hand holding a phone while the other plays with a rope. The rope is tied to a small device, and if released...

The dozen blades above you will drop.

The woman speaks. "Yeah. The girl woke up about ten minutes ago. And you're going to want to hear what she told me..."

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That's where I'll be calling it a night. Hope you all enjoyed playing. Look forward to the next thread sometime this coming weekend! As is the norm, put any comments or questions you'd like answered here or on my Twitter @Frolloswagendir.

Night, everybody!

>>30052771
Night, see you next time.

And damn, Catarina does not fuck around when it comes to interrogation.

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>>30052771
As always, you know how to end on a cliffhanger! Have you ever Gmed a quest before, or otherwise done an RPG game in this sort of format?

I particularly liked the horrifying naivete with the True Ancestor. She's so adorably innocent and eager, yet she'd have no problem turning a random passer-by into a blood-flavored juicebox. I'm really eager to learn more about her, and how this ties into the metaplot of Bartolome's father.

Theorizing/Shadowruns for the evening: I'm calling it here and now - Wayne is bluffing like a motherfucker and intended to sneak on a third player to our little party, which he deigned not tell us about. $5 and a vial of mana potion says this person was someone who would NOT make for a friendly interaction with a priest.

>>30052909
>Have you ever Gmed a quest before
There was one time I tried to run a JoJo Quest, but it only got through the first thread before I realized after the first act I didn't know where to take the plot. I stopped after that thread because I didn't feel I could do it justice.

I may try again one day, though.

I've also GMed a couple campaigns of Pathfinder, and done forum RP. Not exactly stellar credentials, but I think I've improved since my earliest shit... eeurgh, haunts me to this very day.

>>30052989
You certainly know how to build tension. Those early choices with talking to Aldric were all viable options (twist free, dial help, humor her, fight), and played well off of the tension of "You're only still alive because she's curious" very well. Lines like "I only kill food. But you're not food! You're Bartolomè!" really sealed that deal for me.

Also, quite liking the open-ended "Something Else" options. Even though we rarely take it, it's nice to know the GM is open to other suggestions.

For game-specific details: Should I assume we have all 5 black keys back, after Aldric took them from us?

Also: in order to unlock new skills, there has to be a sizable expenditure of downtime, right? We can't just agree to it and start opening up those options whenever?

What kind of stats ot systems are you using for NPCs and offscreen stuff?

>>30053201
>Should I assume we have all 5 black keys back, after Aldric took them from us?
Yeah. Even if it isn't written that you get them back it can be assumed that so long as an ally has them you can receive them more or less instantly.

>in order to unlock new skills, there has to be a sizable expenditure of downtime, right? We can't just agree to it and start opening up those options whenever?
Right. Usually it will be obvious when you have the opportunity to learn a new skills. Sometimes it will happen if you do something really, REALLY well, but most of the time it's through dedication of time and effort. You could theoretically just sit down and start grinding to improve skills, but in-game it would take months and you'd get little to nothing else done.

>What kind of stats ot systems are you using for NPCs and offscreen stuff?
Most of the NPCs you fight or team up with have their own stat sheets with about the same amount of detail as yours. Wayne, for example, has his own sheet. He has his stats and traits detailed like Bartolomè's, as well as a few extra things related to magecraft that haven't been detailed to you yet (since Bart doesn't know the first thing about magic.)