Blood Potency
3 successes
For once, for once, the city didn’t fight him. He’d expended more than a little vitae on Xan, setting her up as her servitor, and on the trip to Connor’s bar. He’d been foolish, perhaps, to waste vitae on such an extravagance as the drink, though he could not have argued it at the time. Still, in the arrears, in the after effect, and the crawling beast inside his mind demanding more – always more, he held a little bit of ‘buyer’s remorse’ at the expense.
Any ill will he might have felt towards himself was absolutely eradicated as he stalked the streets of Sacramento. The ritual had worked, almost effortlessly, and as he followed the beating heart of the city it was almost too simple.
It felt… different… this time. Like an ardent lover who had protested only by form instead of function who now had given it and opened their heart and mind to a persistent suitor. The architect followed the throbbing magical sense of the city with a lightness he’d not felt since the first moment he’d awoken torpor and been reminded of the truth of his existence and the Great Work.
The city might fight him on another night, and these were still only the opening stage of the rites which he would lay into the heart of the city like street-lines on a map. But tonight, however, he would slake the ravenous beast’s incessant thirst and the irascible one born of his own mind and pride.
Tonight, the city was his. The undead heart thrummed with the spiritual one in the city and from the people he hunted. Tonight… tonight he would not be hungry upon the next evening’s waking.
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