Buying a Family Vehicle

December 3, 1819

Sam: When last we left our weary band of travellers, they were sleeping in beds so recently occupied by newlyweds, surrounded by the sweet scents of loving.
Nate: Oh no we aren't. Walter removed all the sheets, remember? And don't think I just left them in the room with me. They're in the hall.
John (ooc): Can we NOT discuss the state of the beds, Sam? I'd rather not know.
Sam (ooc): This from the man who writes poetry about women unbuttoning their blouses to bare their breasts?
John (ooc): It was a rough draft! I didn't even complete that line.
Fanny (ooc): You wrote a poem about sex?
John (ooc): No. It was a poem set in the Middle Ages.
Mary (ooc): Are you saying people didn't have sex in the Middle Ages, John?
John (ooc, blushing like a lightbulb): Of course not, but the poem wasn't about sex. It was about lovers from feuding families who, on St. Agnes Eve, escaped to wed.
Bill (ooc): Let me guess. You had a date with Fanny the night before you wrote it?
Fanny (ooc, turning a matching shade of red): Bill!
John (ooc): Actually, I was paying her a visit the next morning.
Sam (ooc): Was that right after you spent most of the week browsing jewelry stores?
John (ooc): Well, yes...
Nate (ooc): I see where this is going. You know, when you're a rich and famous writer and kids are forced to read your poetry, someone's going to hear about the events of that day. Then the paparazzi will chase you around for news of the scandelous behavior of your youth.
Bill (ooc): Yes. And in the history books a century later, it will simply be noted as the day when you were "unofficially engaged to Fanny Brawne."
Fanny (ooc): Hardly. We were still pretending to hate each other when you wrote that one, John. You're referring to Eve, right?
John (ooc): Yes. I remember, now, dear.
Sam (ooc): Then why were you so interested in jewelry that week?
John (ooc): I was wrestling with the idea of admitting my attraction to her. I wanted to get her just the right gift, but I couldn't find it, so I gave up without buying anything.
Sam (ooc): The world will never know the romantic struggles of John Keats...
Fanny (ooc): They might not, but I'll never forget how adorably clumsy you were. For someone who is considered very good at composing elegant verse, you had an awful time constructing a coherent sentence those first couple months.
Ed (ooc): When I'm rich and famous, I'm going to go out of my way to be really creepy.
Nate (ooc): Great idea, Ed. We'll be the H.P. Lovecraft and Stephen King of the nineteeth century. Oo, tell me I get to be Stephen King! You can write about people being driven mad, but I want to write about Jerry Fallwell religious types making pacts with Satan.
Ed (ooc): I think I can learn to like telling stories about demons who make people do terrible things before they go mad and meet a terrible end.
Bill (ooc): You mean you aren't going to grow up and be a poet and write ballads about lost love?
Ed (ooc): If I write any ballads about lost love, you have my permission to shoot me, Bill.
John (ooc): I give him five years before he starts writing love poems.
Ed (ooc): Never.
Bill (ooc): It's okay, Ed. We all go through the love poetry phase. John's been going through it for the last five years and shows no sign of letting up anytime soon.
John (ooc): Fuck you, Bill. And my earliest stuff wasn't even love poetry.
Bill (ooc): Yes it was. It was just directed at pretty flowers and other men's wives.
Sam (ooc): Oh dear. Even worse were his poems about other poets. I saw your Imitation of Spenser. I thought I had picked up a piece of Byron fanfic by mistake.
Bill (ooc): Fanfic? Better burn that before the literary critics get a hold of it, John.
John (ooc): Oh shut up, both of you. Ever read The Eye of Aragorn? That's fanfic of fanfic of Tolkien. I'm still a better writer than that.
Bill (ooc): My SHOE is a better writer than that. Seriously, though, we're just picking on you.
Sam (ooc): At least you won't be known for writing a poem in clumsy waltz beat, right Bill.
Bill (ooc): It's supposed to be a poem written by an innocent person, contrasting with and contradicting the more rigidly organized poems written by those with experience. If I get called "the guy who wrote that silly lamb poem" one more time, I think I'm going to drown someone in the Thames.
Sam (ooc): I know you, Bill. You're going to avenge yourself in writing, aren't you. This is what that whole Jerusalem thing you've been working on is about, isn't it?
Bill (ooc, folding his arms): If they think Jerusalem is a happy poem with lots of smiling children, I'll beat them to death with it.
Ed (ooc): What, the city?
Nate (ooc): No, the poem. The thing makes the Inferno look like a children's book.
Bill (ooc): Oh, it isn't that long...
Mary (ooc): So, are we going to play tonight, or are we going to sit around talking about writing all night?
Sam: Right. Where was I?
Bill: Gooey blankets, I believe.
Nate: I took them off the bed, dammit!
Sam: Oh very well. I'll let you hop into the Way Back Machine, Walter. Anyway, you're in the honeymoon hotel for the night.
John (ooc): Dawn breaks?
Sam: No, actually, the sun is torn from the horizon like a soul harvested by the Reaper.
Nate (ooc): Oo, neat! How about "Helios whips his horses into a frenzy and races into the sky in a race with Athena."
John (ooc): Or simply "the Apple of Discord rolls across the cauliflower bowl, igniting the fury of the goddesses with its radiance."
Mary (ooc): What is this - flowery metaphor night?
Sam (ooc): The sun does arise and make merry the skies?
Bill (ooc): Shut up, Sam.
John (ooc): Yes. The constuction of Jerusalem might not be complete, but as a weapon, its already fully functional...
Sam: Right. In any case, it is now late morning in Grasmere.
Mary (ooc): Aww. You mean we missed the hills giving birth to a fire-headed youth?
Sam: Well?
John: "I say we go to this Crag's Helm and see if the Nephandi Flying Circus is in town, yet."
Bill: "It's quite a hike up there, couple hours, at least."
Mary: "Well, we'd better get started, then."
Fanny (rolling): "There's no need." Christabel takes the compact out of her purse.
Mary: "What do you mean, 'no need'? That valley could be swarming with Nephandi right this moment."
Fanny (to Sam): Is it?
Sam: You don't know. You haven't climbed the mountain, yet.
Fanny (emphatically): I know, but is the circus in the valley?
Sam: I guess you could ask around...
Nate (ooc): Yes. "Um, excuse me, sir. Have you seen a circus of Nephandi around these parts? No, we're not friends of theirs. Why do you ask?"
Mary (ooc): A circus of Nephandi? Is that like a murder of crows or a gaggle of geese?
Nate (ooc): A circus? Wouldn't that be a group of Marauders?
John (ooc): Or Malkavians.
Fanny: Sam, look. Three dice? Two 8s and a 6?
Bill (ooc): I think she's using Correspondence, Sam.
Sam: Oh. Sorry. Nope. No tents and elephants in the swamps, yet.
John: Did they have elephants in Edinburgh?
Sam: Actually, no. It's hard to keep animals around in a circus of Nephandi. They have this tragic tendency to end up getting used as a sacrifice to fuel someone's demon-summoning ritual...
Bill (ooc): P.E.T.A.'s worst nightmare, eh?
John (ooc): Yeah, a Nephandi circus is just a string of law suits waiting to happen...
Sam (ooc): The trick is to get the visitors to sign a waiver when they buy tickets.
Bill (ooc): What are you talking about? You make it seem as though insurance companies and law firms aren't fronts for the Nephandi in the first place...
Fanny: "They aren't there. At least no yet. Any idea when they're dropping by the local swamp, Draw?"
Bill: I don't know. Sam?
Sam: The moon was full in your vision.
Bill: And what was the moon last night?
Sam: It was close to full. It will be tonight, tomorrow night at the latest.
Bill: "The moon was full in my dream. It might be tonight, but it might not be until tomorrow night."
Nate: "Are you saying we could have spent another day looking for a way to stop Sam Walton from sanitizing my Node?"
Bill: "Not if we still wanted to get here before the circus moved on. We all remember the train ride..."
Nate: "That's an interesting point. I thought you had a car, Clara."
Mary: "I do, but its a sports car. I could have driven, but four members of the cabal would have had to squeeze into the trunk."
Bill: "Maybe I should get a minivan."
John: "A minivan? Aren't they making those things out of cold iron these days?"
Nate: "Cold iron? I thought it was fiberglass."
John: "Even worse. I hear Changelings now take aggravated damage from vehicles made of fiberglass, too."
Bill: "In a group this big, a minivan is practical. It's perfect for a group of mages. It can seat the entire cabal with room to spare for the weapons, body armor, foci, and cooler."
John: "Are you saying we should buy a minivan because we can make sandwiches on our roadtrips?"
Bill: "No. I'm saying we should buy a minivan so I can get plastered on our roadtrips without getting arrested for drunk and disorderly behavior or indecent exposure."
Mary: "You get naked with me in the car, Draw, and you ride in the truck. No offense intended."
Fanny: "I don't know, Clara. He's a pretty attractive guy, when he remembers to shave."
Mary: "And when he isn't puking into your shoes or groping you because he thinks you're a doorknob or something."
Nate: "I like you and all, Draw, but I'm not getting into a car if you're blind drunk and driving."
Bill: "Who said anything about me driving? Believe me. I trust a rope on the wheel and a two-by-four on the gas pedal far more than I trust my driving after a mere quarter cooler of whiskey."
Mary: "I'll drive. You raise an interesting point, Draw. With my knowledge of applied science, I could probably improve upon the original design of whatever vehicle we select. Soup up the engine, reinforce the frame, install a few hidden weapons..."
John (ooc): Oh God. We're going to make the Turtle Van...
Bill: "It's settled, then. I buy a minivan. Clara raises its coolness factor as much as possible."
Fanny: "I should come with you to the lot, Draw. I can help you haggle."
Bill: "Sure. Okay." Draw rubs his chin surreptitiously to confirm that he shaved this morning.
Mary: "I'm coming with you. I know a lot about mechanics. I'll be able to tell if they try to sell you shoddy merchandise."
Bill: "Good idea."
Ed: "What should we do while you're gone?"
Bill: "You can go shopping for a large cooler, a couple bags of ice, and a whole lot of whiskey."
Fanny: "And wine coolers."
Mary: "Orange juice for me."
John: "Actually, I was thinking about hiking to the valley. Some working knowledge of the terrain might make our encounter with the Nephandi less dangerous."
Ed: "Actually, that's a good idea. I'll go with you, then. I'd like to investigate that rock formation, too. Besides, you could use someone around to watch your back."
Nate: Walter sighs. "Okay. I'll get the intoxicants, then. I might need some more money, though. I don't carry a lot of cash with me."
Sam: Okay, then. Walter is going shopping. Draw, Christabel, and Clara are looking for minivans. Homer and Allan are going hiking. You two, give me a Stamina + Survival check, dif ... oh, how about 8.
John (ooc): Jeez! Are we taking a stroll across Antarctica or something, or are you just pulling these numbers out of a hat, Sam?
Sam: Just kidding. Dif 5.
John: Right. (rolls) Two.
Ed (rolls): Two.
Sam: Excellent. You walk through the almost shoulder-to-shoulder crowd of hikers and assorted tourists who are climbing toward Crag's Helm. Your legs are burning. Your throats are parched. You pass overweight hikers who are stretched out on the sheep-dung-strewn grass. You pass sheep, sheep, and still more sheep. You GET passed by 80 year old couples who are obviously much better at this than you are. You see a couple people who are only slightly less overpacked than that American kid on the train was. At last, after passing enough sleep to to turn an insomniac into a narcoleptic, you reach the rock outcropping of Crag's Helm, where a mob of children are lunching.
John: Homer mutters to Allan. "It figures the Nephandi would pick a weekend in the middle of the Lake District's tourist season to hatch their wicked plans..."
Ed: "Well, they ARE evil."
John: "That, or they're merely attracted to existing evil. A field trip in July?"
Ed: "So, what do we do now, tell them they're sitting on a petrified archdemon and to please disperse before it wakes up and eats us all?"
John: "We could just wait for them to leave."
Ed: We'll sit down to rest while the kids eat lunch.
Sam: They don't seem like they're going to leave anytime soon. You're extremely thirsty.
Ed: "You bring anything to drink?"
John: "Nope. You?"
Ed: "I'm afraid not. Vamp...er...my usual prey are partial to cities. I don't often go on trips to the country."
John: "I see. I'm not much of a camper, myself."
Ed: Have they left, yet?
Sam: Nope. They're still hanging around after two hours.
John: "Maybe they're demons DISGUISED as picnicking children..."
Sam: Are you saying that out loud?
John: Yes, but in a low voice. An aside, if you will.
Sam: Okay. Just hope no one heard you.
Nate (ooc): Yes, they might assume their true form and kick your asses.
Sam (ooc): They're just kids.
John (ooc): Sure they are, Sam. They're actually a mirage. Their abundance of food and drink are merely a hallucination generated by our desperate brains in a vain effort to fight off dispair as our life force ebbs from our starving and dehydrated bodies...
Nate (ooc): Dude, you've been hiking for a few hours, tops.
Ed: Sam, what would be the difficulty to use Forces 2 to levitate some of that action our way?
Sam: Vulgar with witnesses? Dif 7, unless you want to start chanting in Enochian in front of all the kiddies.
Bill (ooc): Yeah, they might send some priest to exorcise you.
Nate (ooc): If he can endure the walk.
John (ooc): Ed, that might be a BAD idea. Kind of a waste to rack up the Paradox stealing Lunchables from children, don't you think?
Ed (ooc): I was just curious.
Sam: Eric walks by.
John (ooc): I KNEW he'd be back! Is he still carrying all that luggage?
Sam: No, just a tiny little backpack with a camera, a jacket, and two water bottles.
Nate (ooc): Jeez! Even Eric has more sense than to climb a mountain without any water.
John (ooc): Let's kill him for his water and stuff his body under a rock!
Bill (ooc): What, are you Fremen, now?
John (ooc): What is he doing?
Sam: He's taking pictures of just about everything, seemingly working to cut any signs of human influence out of all the pictures. Then he climbs to the top of Crag's Helm and just stands there looking out at the valley below as though he's the only person around and the only person who has ever been here before. It's almost as though his BODY is taking pictures. A few minutes later, he empties a bottle of water and begins walking along the top of the ridge, looking at a crude map he had folded up in his back pocket.
Ed (ooc): Oh! I know exactly what Eric is, now.
Sam (ooc, smiling): Do you really?
Ed (ooc): Yeah, he's some kind of treasure hunter or something, kind of like Indiana Jones's dad.
Sam: (ooc): Sorry. He's just a cameo character. He has no connection to this story at all whatsoever.
John: If you say so, Sam... I'm going to sit down somewhere the sheep have given less attention to and meditate, quietly pricking my finger on a knife in my pocket. Prime 1, Spirit 1 - I want to know what's going on with the peak.
Sam: Dif 3 with specialized foci.
Ed: I'm going to do something similar with Mind 1, Prime 1. But I also want to find out how Eric and the children are feeling.
Sam: Same dif, but you'll need more successes.
Ed: Extended action. Burning Will.
John (rolling): Two.
Ed: Two the first round, plus one for Will.
Sam: Alright, Homer, the crag seems to be a fairly powerful Node. To your Spirit perceptions, the crag is a demonic creature cradled in its own wings, slumbering. The Gauntlet is weak, here, and it appears to be weakening even more. With a bit more Spirit knowledge, it would be quite easy to step across...or to let something on the other side cross...
John (ooc): Wonderful. I think we have some idea what the Nephandi have in mind, now.
Ed (rolling): Six more successes in the next two checks, nine total.
Sam: You sense the flow of Prime in the area quite strongly. All the children are mostly feeling childish things - a desire to be loved, accepted, and worshiped. The other tourists are awed by the sights or weary or tired, nothing unusual there, either.
Ed: And Eric?
Sam: His emotions are stronger than most, as though the scenery is raw Quintessence flowing into him - awe, elation, and wonder vastly outstrip thirst, weariness, and a longing.
Ed: He's absorbing Quintessence?
Sam: No. He's just an ordinary mortal.
John: I want to take a look at him. Do my Spirit senses notice anything about this kid?
Sam: His aura is flickering wildly, but radiating from his body in a wider circle than most mages' you've seen. Tendrils of color occasionally reach out to touch a stone or a blade of grass, leaving tiny marks wherever he goes which soon evaporate. Its like the local Resonance bends itself to be more like his aura's.
John (ooc): But he's not a mage? A Marauder, maybe?
Sam: Nope, just an ordinary mortal.
John (ooc): A Sorcerer?
Sam: No. Just a mortal making a cameo.
John (ooc): A Shifter? A Changeling?
Sam: Look. How many times do I have to tell you he's just an ordinary mortal? You realize that's the most likely explanation of any given person, even in the World of Darkness, don't you? There are more mortals than supernaturals. Eric is just one of those mortals.
Ed (ooc): I know! Eric Haight's a Hunter, right?
John: No, and his last name isn't Haight, either.
Fanny (ooc): Boys, could you get on with your little investigation? Some of us are waiting to buy a family vehicle, over here...
Sam: Good idea. We'll switch groups. The three of you have found a minivan dealership.
Mary: Okay. We go inside and *shudder* look for a car salesman.
Sam: Four of them file out like a pack of scavengers who have happened upon the carcass of a dead lamb. One of them takes the lead. "May I help you?"
Bill: "Yes. We are pricing minivans. Could you show us what you have available?"
Sam: The other three shoot their companion a brief dirty look before scampering off. "Certainly, sir. If you'll just follow me."
Bill: We do.
Fanny: Christabel is going to walk really close to the salesman, react too slowly when he stops, and bump into him. My goal is to keep him too distracted to think about his sale.
Sam: Okay. Roll me an Appearance + Manipulation, dif 6.
Fanny (rolling): Yuck. Only two.
Sam (rolling): He resists your feminine wiles easily, and leads all of you directly to their most expensive models, of course. He starts gushing about features and making promises about financing and low monthly payments.
Mary: Is it worth it, in my opinion?
Sam: No. Most of the luxury features are ridiculous, and more than a few of them are modifications you could make yourself.
Mary: I glance at Draw and shake my head.
Bill: I tell the salesman the price is too high and to show us something less expensive. Besides, it will give Christabel more time to work.
Fanny: I'm not going to let him brush me off so easily. I'm going to remove my compact and use the mirror to read his most hidden desires so I can play with them more easily.
Sam: Mind 3. Dif 6.
Fanny: Willpower. (rolls) Two successes total.
Sam: You have a tap into his brain for a little while. He's a dumpy young man who has trouble maintaining a relationship because his appetites tend to involve sheep.
John (ooc, laughing): He's Welsh, then.
Bill (ooc): What do you call a sheep tied to a fence post in Wales? A pleasure booth.
Fanny: Okay. Slight change in tactics. Every once in a while, I'm going to ba like a sheep at his back and mutter in Gaelic. Mind 2 to increase his emotional reaction. Dif 4 with focus. (rolls) Three sucesses.
Sam: He has brought you down to the cheapest models and is in the process of hinting about how much better suited the more expensive ones would be to your needs. He is becoming quite distracted by the surging emotions, now. He starts making all kinds of mistakes, like telling you how much of a commission he would make at one price or another. It is quite entertaining.
Bill: I start moving him up to the more pricey minivans.
Fanny: Now for the tour de force. Burning Willpower and a point of Quintessence. Muttering in Gaelic. I'm going to replay one of his little furry encounters down to the physical sensations, stringing him along with the potent illusion.
Sam (ooc): Basically, you're giving him a wet daydream?
Nate (ooc): Yuck!
Fanny (ooc): You could call it that, I suppose.
Sam: Dif 4.
Fanny: Three successes.
Sam: He's starting to drool and trail off in the middle of sentences, now.
Bill: I wait until Mary picks a model and then name a price that won't net him a lot of profit.
Sam: He almost moans his agreement.
Bill: Good. Then we take him back inside and get him to break out the paperwork.
Sam: He manages to get through all the necessary paperwork, though there's quite a bit of drool and sweat on the pages.
Nate (ooc): I said it before, and I'll say it again. Yuck!
Bill: We pay the man, thank him, and leave.
Fanny: I let the illusion run its course.
Sam: Riiigght... By the time you start the minivan, you hear him screaming "Come on, Fluffytoes! You know you want more, Fluffytoes! Oh! Thank you, Fluffytoes!"
Bill: We drive back to the hotel. "Did either of you have anything to do with that?"
Mary: "No. He clearly was suffering from some acute delusions."
Fanny: "Old Verbena mind trick. You don't think those fertility rite orgies just happen all by themselves, do you?"
Mary: "Well. No, I suppose they wouldn't. But Fluffytoes? What was he yelling about?"
Fanny: "Apparently, our young salesman back there is really into sheep, so I just let his mind play out his wildest fantasy."
Bill: "Kind of like a personal porno movie?"
Fanny: "Yes, but it also imitates sensations like a vivid dream."
Bill: "Cool. Hey Mary, do you want to take the wheel for a minute?"
Mary: "No. And if you start panting, I'll shock your testicles with a taser, Draw."
John (ooc): Ouch.
Bill: "Right. When we get back, though, you want to show me that trick of yours, Christabel?"
Fanny: I set a hand on his thigh. "Why bother with illusions? They're never as good as the real thing."
Mary: Clara looks out the window and struggles not to be ill.
Bill: "So true, but it is impossible to really make love alone. Do you fancy champagne?"
Mary: "Look, you two. If you want to make freaky barnyard noises, could you please wait until we get back to the hotel?"
Fanny: Christabel smiles at Draw. "Sure."
Mary: Great. Once they get out of the van, Clara is going to throw herself into the work of modifying the minivan, trying not to think about sex, men, or romance even for a moment.
Sam: I think we'll fade to black and stop there for the week.
Bill (ooc): I just have one question, Sam. With Mind 1, could I use Christabel's trick on myself?
Sam: I guess that would count as Mind Empowerment...
Bill (ooc): Great. I know the next thing I'm going to buy with my Experience, then.
Nate (ooc): Triple yuck!
Mary (ooc): I second that motion, Nate.

ST (Sam) - Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Clara (Mary) - Mary Shelley
Christabel (Fanny) - Fanny Brawne
Draw (Bill) - William Blake
Homer (John) - John Keats
Walter (Nate) - Nathaniel Hawthorne
Allan (Ed) - Edgar Allan Poe