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The Fifth Horseman


scyberkahn

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Shouldn't there be a vampire CYOA somewhere?
Whatever. So let's start one. Since I'm a major lurker I might as well as do something about it...

People, think about what kinda vamp you want.

A) Psion: You were a former scientist, and you can find ways out of situations easier if it means you have to construct/understand something; you're the brains, but you've got very little brawn. No real stamina. As an added bonus, you're a mild telekinetic (details to follow), which is why they call vamps like you Psions. Blood is not an issue, because Psions figured out a way to get past that little detail a long time ago (that's cheating for a vamp, I know, but if you take a Psion, god help me I'll make it difficult for you).
B) Muscle: This hulk won't smash on the same scale, but we're talking about some major muscle. Legend puts vamp strength at superhuman levels: you can bench-press a car. Think of what you can do to whatever the fuck gets in your way. Human blood doesn't really have the same taste to it - humans are weak. So you need stronger shit - vamp blood. Good thing is, you can take some deprivation.
C) Shade: The sneak, the spy. You can smart-talk your way out. When things get bad, you've got some shady tricks up your sleeve. You know people, and people know you, and you're streetsmart. But you're not too strong or brainy; but you're plain lucky, and you're cunning. You can get contacts to give you free blood; or fake blood - so food (or booze in this case?) is not an issue.
D) Bloodmage: (Borrowing from some Masquerade lore here, refer to Tremere) You can get past most problems using a few drops of your blood - call out animations and cast spells. Downside is, you're more bloodthirsty than anyone else, and because of that you're not a nice guy. Or gal. Subtle, elegant, and you leave a slightly smaller mess than the muscle. Bloodtypes don't matter - anything will do.
E) Harpy: Aerial attack. You're all about air superiority. Since you've got wings, you get a few different options in movement. And also since you've got wings, humanity's by and large going to think of you as an angel (they're dumb enough to think a vamp flying out of the sun looks divine) so you've got uber-playboy (or bunny) looks. And a bit of snobbishness. Got to be choosy about your bloodflow - birds, flight attendants, frequent fliers - people who've been in the air recently, your "prey that has tasted the high winds".

So what'll you be?

And then the usual stuff:
1) Gender M/F. No in-betweens, please. Twilight was bad enough.

2) Name.

3) Origins (Like a perk. No negatives here.)
a) Pureling (easier acceptance into vamp society);
b) Construct (faster healing, easier repairs)
c) Warborn (Intimidating. You can scare people better than you can smart-talk them. If you ever smart-talk them. Since you look dangerous.)
d) Alien (You're not really a vamp. Just pretending. Humans will accept you faster.)

4) Combat style:
i) Melee: Close combat. Down and dirty, one on one or one on many, doesn't matter. You'll always have a weapon to that effect. Or you have your mitts. This applies for all: even bloodmages & psions. But for consistency, either of those won't be able to stand very long here.

ii) Range: You've either got a big-ass gun or you can find one or make one. This is better for bloodmages and psions. Muscle will do all right here, since you can carry a lot more firepower - but the downside is ammo. If you run out, you're screwed.

iii) Katas: No matter what type you are, you'll fit in here. The Antediluvians were able to retrieve this martial art. Katas allow you to dodge around things while knowing where to hit. But if you run up against another vamp with the same knowledge... (what happens to Anakin Skywalker when he ran into Obi-Wan? THAT might just happen.

iv) Shadowsign: Some vamps can call out their shadows to help, and like the Katas, Shadowsign is another martial art, allowing you to use your shadow in combat. Whatever vamp type you choose, the power of your shadowsign is directly affected: muscle shadows are stronger, psion shadows are more flexible, bloodmage shadows are poisonous, harpy shadows can fly. Stuff like that.

End of customization. Any other physical attributes aren't really part of the story, but expect a sexy gal or a pumped-up dude anyway. One last thing. You'll usually have a weapon on hand - something to hit with, gun or blade or club or so on - but unless you specialize in it, you'll be an amateur.

Right people, decide on that much. Expect some history/background on the story next post; and after that we begin Chapter One. Any questions, go ahead and ask.
 

Tassadar

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Re: The Fifth Horseman

B! Bloodsucker smash!

And then 1F (female,) erm....... Evelyn? Danicka? Victoria? Idk, make up a vampire name. Also, 3B, 4i
 
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Re: The Fifth Horseman

Agree, (B)loodsucker SMASH!

Just to be different, though....

1) Male

2) Darius? Bruce? Alistair? Whatever.

3) C. Gonna be a brute, may as well go balls to the wall.

4) iii. What's scarier than an uber-powerful madman? An uber-powerful madman who knows how to fight.
 
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GargantuaBlarg

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Re: The Fifth Horseman

I'll go with what Tass said, mostly.

HULKPIRE; female/Danicka (alternately, Steve); ConstructIguess, but ninjaflipshit (kata) for fightan.


Also, does it haaaave to be other vampires? Can't we just like, go find a bear or a tiger or something. Because seriously, I wish to be the little bear-drinking vampire.
 
A

aguy

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Re: The Fifth Horseman

Harpy
1: female
2. I'm pretty bad at names... so Danika i guess? It seems the popular choice
3. b. Construct
4. iv. Shadow
 
OP
scyberkahn

scyberkahn

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Re: The Fifth Horseman

Majority: Female Muscle, Construct and katas. First name Danika.
Well, here goes.

PROLOGUE: THE CRAFTING

'I really didn't think you'd survive the transition. Vampirism is not exactly something that one takes to without losing some part of yourself. In your case, you've lost a lot, in your bargain with the Bloodriver.
'You gave up quite a lot, didn't you? Your memories, for one. And your soul. Congratulations. Do you have any idea what that even means? Your soul is gone. Foosh.
'You're a vampire now, Danika.'
The doctor smiles evilly, adjusting his half-moon glasses over a sharp nose. If you're a vampire, then there's no doubt about it: he's one, too.
And he was a powerful one, no doubt about it. Not many vampires have the know-how to create one from scratch.
'You can't talk. At least, not until you have a mouth,' he chuckles, then his face turns into stone. The grisly operation would've been comical, too, like some pathetic variety show doomed to failure, with all the overlarge machinery and awkward instruments... if not for the throbbing pains racking your frame, and the fact that he's right: you really don't have a mouth. What's there is a gruesome metal hinge, shaped like a steampunk mockery of human features.
And the doctor, grinning maniacally, bends down into your torso with a sharp and exceedingly long scalpel that you can feel every inch of, and the screams that should have emerged remain buried inside.
The entire process takes a long time, and you are awake to see every minute of it, every nanosecond. Anaesthesia is heaven, and the doctor's scalpel is Satan incarnate.
You go through several of his macabre procedures, and through half-lidded eyes you make out several sections of this plan: "Bone reinforcement"; "Organ substitution"; "Skin transplant"; and the last phase, the most chilling one, is labelled "Brain Replacement". You were put under for this one.

Now, awake, you realize you will never actually know what the twisted creature actually did to you... but now, lying on the regeneration vat, you understand that it is finally over, your artificial vampirism is active, to the doctor's satisfaction.
'There. Now you will always be mine, won't you?' His fingers trace your breasts, and your skin crawls even as your memories swirl. You remember older times, human times, when this "Doctor" had been nothing but a myth to be forgotten. And how he'd met you in the shadowy corridors of Teean-4, and given you absolute orders, and a taste of vampiric power, in exchange for some odd assignments and some sex.
And how you'd been drunk on that inhuman energy, and tried more and more of it.
The reward, then, for your efforts was this. Vampirism. Detachment from humanity.
And subjugation to the vampire society.
Well, damn him if you were just going to sit down and accept it. There'd be a reckoning for this insane monster. And it's gonna be at your goddamn fucking hands.
 
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scyberkahn

scyberkahn

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Re: The Fifth Horseman

CHAPTER ONE: IN MEDIAS RES IS JUST THE BEGINNING

The taste of blood at your lips was never so repellent.
Another punch from the massive mutant connects, sending you flying ten feet into the air, and just as you think things can't get any worse, the mutant's scaly friend jumps up to meet you and introduces you to the business end of a steel baton.
Several things crunch, but not the baton.
Much as you'd like to curse, that action is not in your repertoire right now. You roll out of the fall and onto your feet. If there's one thing that vampirism does for you, it is the reflexes. You've always liked to fight, but being able to pull off stunts with such precision and timing is a rush in itself.
The problem is, that a lot of people could do that too, and usually better than you.
But hey, what the fuck. You can feel your nose popping back into place. The blood dripping through your lips - your blood - has been pulled back into your skin, and the regenerator in your belly finishes its work.
You'd been left for dead here a while back. But being dead was the worst point.
Things didn't get any worse from there - you got used to the feeling. It had taken little over an hour for the regenerator implant to do its work... and now, you're back on your feet.
'Ready, boys?' The scaly vamp flinches, sensing the energy in your frame, and he realizes that all the beating you took so far hadn't really done much. A pair of lowblood idiots, trying to bully an already over-bullied vamp for blood. Classic tale. But in this case, you weren't exactly lacking in firepower yourself.
And those katas... ooh, the power at your fingers! You rub yourself down, wiping off excess dirt from your torn leathers, and settle down into the first attack stance.

No mercy for these morons.

Laughing, the big mutant rushes at you with all the elegance of a pregnant cow, and you jump, raising your knee with a sudden jerk, so that the force of your momentum adds to the impact to his chin. Your strength, much more than the average vamp, and perhaps even more than this brute's allows your kick to introduce Mr. Broken Jawbone to Mr. Brain. There's a sickening... and extremely satisfying thud, and then you grab onto his ample shoulders and flip yourself over him, landing on your feet, in front of the big one's friend, the scaly, hooded vamp.
You don't even look behind at the big mutant. Neck severed, spine broken, brain punctured... goodbye hurray. You meet the panicked, slitted eyes of the lizard vamp, dimly registering the noise his colleague's immense frame makes as it collides with the remains of a wall, the debris of which falls down on him like a proverbial tonne of bricks.
'Waitaminute. That is a tonne 'a bricks,' you observe. 'Well, you're up next, scaly. Dance.' Scaly has better things on his mind, apparently. The lizardlike vampire makes

like greased lightning. You sigh and lean against the wall. That had taken a while. And it had been embarrassing to be beaten up by those lowbloods while your target had gotten clean away... after beating the shit out of you first.
Nuts.
Well, you have his trail now, since he had your tracer on him. If you hadn't needed to plant that tracer during all that punching and grappling, that rogue vamp would've been scattered all over this alley. Punk-ass shade.
A bit of glass from a broken window glints in the light of the moon, and you pick it up. Your reflection looks back at you from the glass, a white-skinned beauty, trapped somewhere between five and a half and six feet. Your dark red hair falls down to just below your shoulders, the wind angling it so that it curtains half of your face, leaving just one glowing green eye shining in the darkness.
The doctor, that fruity shitstain of a sadist, made you so that you could sneak into a fully-armoured bunker using more than your wits. He gave you your charms, your amazingly-endowed body. Any man, and most vampires, would kill to have you bound at their slavestand, would kill for a night in the hay. Your breasts peek out from under your torn leather shirt, and the cool breeze plays over the sensitive skin on your inner thighs.
The big mutant had thought of having some fun before you'd crushed his pecker. Shame. He'd been packing a good one. But manners mattered.
You pick yourself up. It had been three months now, since that day. Three months since your artificial vampirism had kicked in. Three months since the doctor had designed and completed every last inch of your new body, with just a few, well-defined purposes in mind. The Doctor had wanted an enforcer. A guardian. And a sex slave.
And that last was the worst. When you'd been human, so long ago, nymphomania had been a passing trend. Vamp blood had been an aphrodisiac. Things had been so... simple. And now, the Doctor's implants and his plastic surgery and his brain operations and organ transplants had taken away most of your humanity. You were a vampire now. No human would recognize you as one of them anymore.
But then, what was the point, reminiscing? Best not bother. Even back then, you'd been a fatalist - going with the flow.
And right now, there are two things demanding your attention.

A) Your implants need servicing. It's been a month, and your body can barely hold them together. The only one who can help is the Doctor. He'll do it for free. The problem is he'll expect you to play backdoor Betty.
B) Or you could trail the rogue vamp. This mission has been pretty fucked since day one. That guy's been just one step ahead of you, and today, you'd gotten pretty close. Plus, his signal's not too far off. Might just get this done tonight. Those five hundred dinars could be enough to replace a few of your expiring implants.

You've got five hours' worth of blood running through your system, enough time to do one of those. What's your call?
 

Diagasvesle

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Re: The Fifth Horseman

A - If the rogue vamp kicked her ass... She needs a tune so she can kick his ass... Besides, better get it done now rather then later when she will really need it.
 
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