Players
I am cursed to walk in a world of darkness until I fi nd the one woman whose love shall set me free.
Since the publication of Polidori’s The Vampyre, mass media has created their own images of the undead. Some Kindred fi nd these glamorized, romantic refl ections of themselves insulting; others fi nd them funny, though their laughter often has a hollowness or bitter edge. Few books and fewer movies or TV shows capture the ugliness running through the Danse Macabre.
A few Kindred, however, love these images. They wish they were the vampires they see in the movies: beautiful and powerful, stylish and deadly — and untroubled by a ravening Beast. For some Kindred, this wish goes all the way back to their mortal days. Decades ago, when “sexy movie vampire” still meant Bela Lugosi, at least one foolish mortal got his wish. Thus began the Players, one of the most mocked and scorned bloodline in the World of Darkness.
The Players yearn to stalk through the night as dark gods of lust and blood like the Daeva, whom the Players see as closest to their movie-vampire ideal. Unfortunately, the Players are Mekhet. They’re good at hiding, eavesdropping and running away. Well, whoop-de-do.
Still, the Players are very good at hiding — from other Kindred, the kine and especially themselves. Like movie stars, rock gods, sports stars and supermodels, they create magnifi ed images of what they would like to be, or what other people would like them to be. Who sees the real person behind the glitz? Who even wants to, really?
Through sheer desire for the superstar glamour they saw embodied by the Daeva, the early Players wrought a change in their blood. They can learn the supernatural allure of Majesty. This Discipline, and the talent for Obfuscate that comes from their Mekhet heritage, lets the Players pose as the charismatic creatures they long to be. Dracula, Lestat, the Lost Boys, Angel — and them!
The bloodline quickly spread beyond its original obsession. The glamour the Players see in movie vampires is not far from the glamour of celebrity entertainers. They, too, attract fawning mortals and can get away with nearly anything. Players use images of celebrity to draw in mortal prey. The Players want more than blood. They want Fame. Oh, how they want it — the power to step into a room and become the instant center of attention. The power to stand on a stage, and have the audience love them! Even if the stage is just a table at a nightclub, and the audience a few star-struck college students.
Of course, it doesn’t work out the way they want. The glamour always fails. Kindred see through the Players’ poses most easily, but even the most enthralled and bamboozled mortal eventually sees through the illusions. The demon queen the mortals loved more than life is just a bimbo on a perpetual liquid diet. The brooding, tormented anti-hero is just a self-centered whiner. The star athlete never played sports, and the supermodel never trod the runway. The Players don’t give up, though. There’s always another mortal to enthrall.
A few Kindred, however, love these images. They wish they were the vampires they see in the movies: beautiful and powerful, stylish and deadly — and untroubled by a ravening Beast. For some Kindred, this wish goes all the way back to their mortal days. Decades ago, when “sexy movie vampire” still meant Bela Lugosi, at least one foolish mortal got his wish. Thus began the Players, one of the most mocked and scorned bloodline in the World of Darkness.
The Players yearn to stalk through the night as dark gods of lust and blood like the Daeva, whom the Players see as closest to their movie-vampire ideal. Unfortunately, the Players are Mekhet. They’re good at hiding, eavesdropping and running away. Well, whoop-de-do.
Still, the Players are very good at hiding — from other Kindred, the kine and especially themselves. Like movie stars, rock gods, sports stars and supermodels, they create magnifi ed images of what they would like to be, or what other people would like them to be. Who sees the real person behind the glitz? Who even wants to, really?
Through sheer desire for the superstar glamour they saw embodied by the Daeva, the early Players wrought a change in their blood. They can learn the supernatural allure of Majesty. This Discipline, and the talent for Obfuscate that comes from their Mekhet heritage, lets the Players pose as the charismatic creatures they long to be. Dracula, Lestat, the Lost Boys, Angel — and them!
The bloodline quickly spread beyond its original obsession. The glamour the Players see in movie vampires is not far from the glamour of celebrity entertainers. They, too, attract fawning mortals and can get away with nearly anything. Players use images of celebrity to draw in mortal prey. The Players want more than blood. They want Fame. Oh, how they want it — the power to step into a room and become the instant center of attention. The power to stand on a stage, and have the audience love them! Even if the stage is just a table at a nightclub, and the audience a few star-struck college students.
Of course, it doesn’t work out the way they want. The glamour always fails. Kindred see through the Players’ poses most easily, but even the most enthralled and bamboozled mortal eventually sees through the illusions. The demon queen the mortals loved more than life is just a bimbo on a perpetual liquid diet. The brooding, tormented anti-hero is just a self-centered whiner. The star athlete never played sports, and the supermodel never trod the runway. The Players don’t give up, though. There’s always another mortal to enthrall.
Culture
Culture and cultural heritage
Background: Many Players began as entranced groupies of their sires. Sometimes a Player can’t accept that a mortal admirer has escaped her power, and so Embraces him to keep the illusion going a little longer. Sometimes a mortal begs for the Embrace because he wants the same glamour and power his sire seems to possess — the mortal doesn’t realize it’s all a fake and his sire is the last person who would set him straight. Future Wannabes are not always ensnared by Disciplines or Vinculums, either. They may simply want to be cool, sexy vampires, or they might see how the Player affects other mortals and want that power for themselves. The prospect of staying young and pretty forever is a powerful lure all by itself. So what if you have to drink blood to do it? Compared to the diets, plastic surgery and other stratagems celebrities use to prolong their looks, undeath doesn’t look that strange — until you’re there and it’s too late.
No one doubts the Players began in Hollywood. Their history is a spinoff of Tinseltown’s. When Hollywood began, the new moving pictures didn’t have stars. To the surprise of the studio entrepreneurs, audiences wanted names for their favorite actors. They wouldn’t settle for “the Biograph Boy” or “the Vitagraph Girl.” In a few years, movie actors went from anonymous hirelings to America’s new royalty. Millions idolized them and wanted to become them.
The studios quickly transformed the stars’ real identities into simplifi ed, mythic icons. A lovely young actress named Olive Thomas was dubbed “the Ideal American Girl.” At 20, she naturally married another star, Jack Pickford, “the Ideal American Boy.” The studios gave Theodosia Goodman, a tailor’s daughter from Ohio, a new life story along with a new name: she became Theda Bara, a supposed French-Arabic temptress as much of a femme fatale as the sex queens she played. Thousands of wouldbe actors fl ocked to Hollywood in hopes of joining their idols on the silver screen. Hadn’t the comic actor Roscoe “Fatty” Arbuckle been a mere plumber when Mack Sennett discovered him? Anyone might become a star!
The stars began living like royalty, too, spending their new fortunes on fi ne clothes, jewels, cars, mansions and parties on an epic scale. In 1920, Olive Thomas’ suicide introduced the Hollywood scandal, complete with drugs and rumors of adultery. In 1921, Fatty Arbuckle was accused of raping and killing a starlet at a drunken revel. Other stars were exposed as heroin addicts. The bluenoses howled at Hollywood’s debauchery, but, to many fans, the sex, booze and drugs were just part of the grand, glorious illusion.
Vampires didn’t take long to invade the cinema. The Secrets of House No. 5, perhaps the earliest vampire movie, was made in Britain in 1912. The first full-length vampire movie, London After Midnight, came in 1927. In 1931, Universal Studios released its version of Dracula: Bela Lugosi’s portrayal of the infamous count set female viewers shrieking and swooning, and sealed the image of the sinister yet sensual vampire aristocrat into pop culture forever. Many other actors would play vampires in the coming decades, but none would equal Lugosi in the popular imagination. Female vampires appeared too; they followed the lead set by Theda Bara, as well-endowed, predatory sexpots. In the 1970s, male vampires became man-pretty again with fi lm and TV portrayals of Dracula by Frank Langella and Louis Jourdan. The Lost Boys, in 1987, turned its vampires into leather-clad teenage punks instead of caped noblemen, but they remained amazingly good-looking. From then on, most TV and movie vampires were Hollywood heartthrobs with fangs, from Catherine Deneuve in The Hunger to Tom Cruise in Interview with a Vampire.
Most Players believe their line began after 1931, though some point out that Lugosi fi rst played Dracula on stage, in 1927. They are quite sure the fi rst Player split from the Mekhet clan by 1940. Some Wannabes believe their progenitor was an actor Embraced by a Mekhet for reasons unknown. Others believe the first Players were movie fans that found real vampires and begged to join the Danse Macabre — but most Wannabes just don’t care. The First Player doesn’t affect their Requiems in any way.
For instance, maybe the fi rst Player cut some sinister pact to gain an aptitude for Majesty and pass it through his Vitae. The entire lineage might owe their Blood and souls to the Devil, an ancient Daeva blood-witch or some other supernatural force of terrible yet unknown power. Some night, the pact will come due and all the Players must pay — or fi nd someone else to pay in their stead.
Or maybe the fi rst Player stole the power. Some elder evil might bide its time to rise and wreak vengeance on all who carry Player blood. Terrible shall be the reckoning when that night comes!
A few Kindred think the Players are too obviously insignifi cant. No bloodline, these Kindred declare, could be so shallow and lacking in power. Especially a bloodline from the Clan of Secrets. These vampires suspect the Players are pulling a gigantic con job on the other Kindred, as pawns or a front for some darker power.
Not a few Wannabes eagerly accept such suggestions, even the speculations that leave them doomed. Being doomed is more glamorous than being the scion of an undead movie buff who wanted a Discipline so much that he passed that longing to his childer.
The bloodline does have a loose gossip network. Players like to brag about the stars they’ve met (and fed upon), memorabilia collected and other celebrityrelated achievements. Players brag to anyone willing to listen, but especially each other. If a Wannabe knows a broodmate in another city (most likely her sire or childe), the Wannabe makes sure to tell him how Robin Williams — Robin Williams! — laughed at one of her jokes. That Player may repeat the brag to other Wannabes, just to show how in-the-know he is.
The gossip network is patchy, though. It doesn’t reach all Players, and no member of the network receives all the gossip. Because of this, news, rumors and suggestions about ways to be part of showbiz travel slowly through the bloodline.
The Player can’t maintain the charade forever, though. He can’t give his “fan” the perks of being close to a real celebrity: no backstage passes or visits to the studio, no screen test, no lavish gifts or valuable memorabilia. Even the dumbest mortal eventually fi gures out she’s dating a fraud. At this point, only Disciplines or a Vinculum can keep the mortal bound to the Player — for a while — with the Embrace as the fi nal gambit to preserve the illusion of star and fan a little longer.
On the other hand, a mortal “fan” may well figure her “celebrity” lover is actually a vampire — before the glamour wears off. A mortal who’s thinking clearly would see a vampire couldn’t also be a movie star, pro athlete, supermodel or other highly visible entertainer. Real celebrities need to do things during the day. A mortal who craves association with fame, though, might not think too clearly even if the Player hasn’t twisted her emotions through Disciplines. The mortal thinks being a vampire is all nightclubs, romance, cool clothes and cooler powers — because that’s what the Player himself wants to be. The Player has struggled against the Beast, longed to see the sun again, cut himself off from mortal friends and family and cursed his need for blood. He knows the Embrace is no gift. For a Player who’s vain, maybe a little stupid and defi nitely addicted to images and wishful thinking, however, it can be hard to resist your Number One Fan when she’s on his knees begging for the Embrace and babbling about immortal passion. Whether from neediness or being caught in their own self-aggrandizing illusions, the Wannabes sire childer more often than most vampires.
As usual with the Kindred, the Embrace seldom results in eternal devotion. Once the childe becomes immune to her sire’s Disciplines or Vinculum, disillusionment set in quickly — say, after the childe’s fi rst frenzy. At that point, the Player has a childe who knows he’s deceived, exploited and Damned her, but whom the Prince insists the Player train in Kindred ways. (Assuming the Prince hasn’t run them both out of town for an illicit Embrace — one reason such a new bloodline has spread so quickly.) Once a childe fi gures out how her sire bamboozled her, they both usually want to break off their relationship as soon as possible.
The childe, of course, begins as an ordinary Mekhet. Her victims do not become immune to her Disciplines or Vinculum. She also lacks the Players’ knack for Majesty. Some Player scions decide they’d rather stay ordinary Mekhet. If they want to learn Majesty without activating their bloodline’s special curse, they accept that progress will be slow. Quite a few nascent Players, however, simply don’t know they have a choice: their sires knew little and taught less. For many childer, the lure of supernatural charisma proves too strong. They, too, crave the illusion of celebrity — and when a childe acts like a Player, her Vitae easily changes once her Blood Potency rises high enough, beginning the cycle again.
Players who pose as Kindred of other clans, or vampires from their favorite movies, likewise rely heavily on props, speaking patterns and bluff. The Daeva or Ventrue Wannabe carefully copies the typical clothes and mannerisms of those clans — perhaps even specifi c Kindred. The would-be Daeva speaks languidly of the cruel games of seduction she’s played; the faux-Ventrue talks about high fi nance and power-plays in Elysium. A “Lost Boy” Wannabe combs and sprays his hair into spikes, wears black leather and practices sneering and swaggering; a “Blade” fan never appears without wraparound sunglasses and a trench coat. The Wannabe plays a double Masquerade: she poses as a really cool vampire posing as a mortal.
Kindred of other clans do not always consider a Wannabe’s imitation of them a form of flattery. When the Daeva Primogen sees a Player copying his outfi t, he may think the younger vampire seeks to assert a connection to him and his status — a rank the Player does not possess and does not deserve. Wannabes have met Final Death because an older vampire felt mocked or exploited by a clumsy, overeager Player. This is one reason many Players avoid Elysiums and other Kindred social events, and associate strictly with vampires as young and powerless as themselves.
Meeting the Famous
The problem lies in getting close to the celebrity. Part of an entourage’s job is to control access to the star. A Player can troll through the clubs in hopes of meeting a celebrity, but the Player can increase his chances in several ways.
One is to become a stalker. Hang around a chosen celebrity’s home. Send letters saying you’re the celebrity’s biggest fan and you want to meet her. Search the news for scheduled public appearances. Find out where she shops. Wherever you think she’ll go, be there, ready to apply the Majesty.
The strategy has disadvantages. Rich and famous people hire security guards to protect them from stalkers. The local police take a dim view of stalking, too. A Player risks attracting too much attention from the wrong sort of mortals. Nevertheless, quite a few Wannabes become stalkers: it goes with the celebrity obsession.
More cunning and patient Players look for circumstances in which a star might come to them. For instance, celebrities often hire limousines, especially when they’re traveling. A Wannabe can buy a limousine, place his name in the phone book (“Night service our specialty”) and hope a star and his friends call up and hire the Wannabe. In some places (the Las Vegas strip, for example), a freelance limo can simply park at the curb and wait for customers. Most of the time, you’ll just be hired by a middle-aged couple from Duluth who want to put on some swank for an evening, but now and then, a famous entertainer will want a limousine on short notice — and there you are. Judicious use of Awe can ensure repeat business, too.
What else does a celebrity want? High-class liquor? Drugs or prostitutes, most discreetly delivered” (Heidi Fleiss wasn’t the first “Hollywood Madame.”) Catering? Cleaning? Pet care? If a Player can fi nd a way to run a business like this — or at least gain the assistance of one, as an Ally — she might wangle a meeting with any number of glitterati.
A more ambitious Player might become a spiritual advisor. Some celebrities fi nd that money, fame and fall-of-Rome hedonism just aren’t enough, and try to find something Meaningful. The Beatles turned to transcendental Meditation. John Travolta and Tom Cruise chose Scientology. The latest Hollywood fad, however, is Jewish Kabbalism, with Madonna as the most famous convert. A Player could hook up with a Hollywood guru as a way to meet stars — or become one. A small group of people could easily mistake Awe for the charisma of a spiritual master. A few minor displays of other Disciplines could easily cement a Wannabe’s position as guru to the stars. He just has to lie about the source of his mystical powers. Naturally, Princes deeply dislike this strategy due to the risk to the Masquerade.
Joining the Entourage
Actors, rappers and other celebrities go about town with a group of other people. Some are bodyguards. One might be an appointment secretary. The entourage may also include the star’s Signifi cant Other of the month. Some of the people, however, are just hangers-on. These are often rich, young people who like the glamour of hanging with a celebrity. In return, they feed the star’s ego and help pay for the drinks and parties. As an extra benefi t, they get to enjoy the star’s excess or used-up groupies (the “cast-off trim,” in Hollywood parlance).
A Player can use Enthrallment to become a star’s lover of the week, and maybe manage a few months. Other Wannabes will envy his success. Explaining why he’s never available during the day is the Wannabe’s problem.
It may be safer just to become a friend and member of the entourage, with no obligation to show up at any particular event but a perpetual invitation to do so. Being in the entourage helps a Wannabe meet more celebrities, for the bragging rights of knowing them (or feeding from them), collecting memorabilia — and lining up the next patron when the glamour wears off the current celebrity friend.
Or maybe it won’t wear off. Who knows? Maybe an entertainer will want to keep the Wannabe around without the false emotions of Majesty or The Vinculum. Some Players hope for more in their Requiem, to the point of revealing they are vampires. Some stars are compassionate (or gullible) enough they would pity vampires and try to ameliorate their cursed existences. Some celebrities are so jaded that taking undead predators as lovers gives them a thrill. Either way, such a dangerous liaison probably won’t work out the way a Player wants.
The obstacles are obvious. Anything a Player can do for a celebrity, he must do at night. The ineluctable truth is that mortals comfortably stay active for 15 to 18 hours at a stretch, while Kindred are limited, on average, to 12 or less — and though the glitterati may take a more casual attitude to bedtime than most people, they seldom adopt a truly nocturnal lifestyle. Any job a Player takes probably must be part-time.
The Masquerade, however, is less a concern than it might seem. When movie stars, pro athletes and other entertainers reach a certain level of fame, they live in a world as insulated from normal Humanity as the Kindred. These celebrities’ mansions have high walls and armed guards at the gates. The celebrities go from home to limousine to studio to fashionable nightclub to home again, shielded by their entourage. These celebrities encounter ordinary people only when they want to, and their security thinks it’s safe. Publicists and lawyers guard their images, so the public doesn’t see too much — at least, too much that isn’t staged as carefully as any scene on fi lm. A vampire can hide within this cocoon of protection and concealment, by becoming part of it. A celebrity’s Staff stands ready to hide drug use, sexual adventures and other scandalous behavior (as well as perfectly innocent details of daily life that are simply nobody’s business). They can also hide that one of the boss’ Staff drinks blood and doesn’t come out in the daytime.
Tell-all books by former employees remain a worry, at least to some Kindred who see a Player letting a celebrity friend in on the big secret. Players have two responses.
In the first place, eccentricity is normal in “show people” and their friends. Let some security guard or valet say Joe Famous has a vampire on Staff, and Joe Famous can instantly produce a platoon of mortals who sleep in coffins and drink the occasional sip of blood, but are fun guests at parties and quite mortal. If that isn’t enough, the star’s image-manipulation machine can trash the tale-teller’s reputation.
In the second place, anyone who would knowingly hire a vampire likely has other things he keeps secret, too. Prosecutable things. The celebrity’s Staff already knows they could face indictment as accessories to their employer’s activities. They also know that if they try to turn State’s Evidence, their employer has little to lose by trying to kill them — and has a supernatural assassin on call. All in all, these Players think the Masquerade is safe with a few celebrities in the know. Or a few dozen . . . .
Ghouls
Perhaps the greatest service a Player can offer is access to his Vitae. In most branches of the entertainment industry, youth is everything. A pro athlete pushes retirement at 40. A model can be over the hill at 25. Actors and actresses don’t have it quite so bad, but they know the older you get, the fewer roles become available — especially the lucrative starring roles. Better not mind becoming one of those character actors who gets listed sixth or seventh or tenth when the credits roll. . . . Or worse, going on Hollywood Squares.
The temptation can be especially strong for a child star, whose career has an even shorter time limit. So often, a child star’s career ends at puberty, and he becomes a realtor, a homeless bum or a guest on The Surreal Life. Even if a Player balks at ghouling a child, the parents probably won’t. (Don’t think about the complexes fostered in a child whose parents insist she drink the blood of a re-animated corpse.)
A vampire can keep an entertainer young — not just looking young, really young, and no plastic surgery required! She just has to drink the vampire’s blood every month, and either she or the vampire makes the effort of will to preserve the supernatural taint that keeps her a ghoul.
Of course, the third drink of Vitae creates the artificial love of The Vinculum. For other Kindred, The Vinculum turns a ghoul into a willing slave as long as the vampire chooses. A blood bond to a Player, however, lasts only a few months. After that, the Player no longer has any supernatural hold on the ghoul’s emotions. The balance of power shifts. The ghoul knows exactly what she wants from the Player: a continued supply of Vitae. The Player’s position is more uncertain. He can’t ask for too much, especially if the ghoul knows that other Players exist. Quite possibly, two Players could get in a bidding war for a celebrity ghoul, giving her the strongest position in the negotiations.
As time passes, a Player slowly regains a measure of power over the ghoul. The more years of deferred aging pile up, the greater the ghoul’s incentive to keep her domitor happy. Eventually, she will owe her very life to the vampire (though she could still seek another Player as a replacement domitor). On the other hand, eternal youth eventually becomes impossible to explain away, even with dubious procedures in Switzerland. At least, that’s what other Kindred guess. No one in this young bloodline has kept a celebrity ghoul long enough for such complications to arise — as far as other Kindred know.
The lure of prolonged life and youth isn’t limited to actors, models, athletes and other performers. The money-men in the back room want to live forever, too. For a few months, a producer or studio head loves the Player with a helpless passion. Then his mind clears. He is once more a very rich man who knows more about the Kindred than the Kindred want. The Player can receive wealth, willing vessels, invitations to all the best parties, whatever she desires — or some very bad men can visit her at high noon and take her into the famous California sun. Her choice. Admittedly, no one claims this has actually happened yet. It’s just something other Kindred worry about when they look at the Players’ drive to be part of show-biz.
Longevity isn’t the only benefit to a ghoul. Vitae also passes on a small capacity to learn Disciplines. A single dot of a Discipline, however, could be a godsend to some entertainers. A smidgen of Celerity or Vigor could push a second-string pro athlete to the top of the league. One dot of Majesty won’t help an actor on screen — but Majesty sure helps convince a producer or director to hire you. Awe could help mollify a cop who catches you driving 40 miles over the speed limit. One dot of Obfuscate is useful to hide a pocketful of cocaine.
Bodyguard to the Stars
Even though a Player can only act at night, for those 12 hours he’s a heck of a bodyguard. Auspex helps a Player spot danger before it becomes immediate; Celerity helps him act fi rst and take down an attacker. Expending Vitae on Physical Attributes makes the Player even more formidable. Obfuscate lets the Player bring a weapon anywhere or stand guard without being noticed at all. Mere mortals won’t do him much harm with guns, chairs and other improvised clubs, or fi sts. Once an attacker’s caught, a touch of Confession can reveal why the attack took place. Sure, most peoplewho seem threatening turn out to be overexcited fans or garden-variety star-stalkers — but once in a while, an attack might come from a serious enemy. Show-biz sometimes crosses paths with organized crime and people get in over their heads. If a mafi oso wants to threaten a producer through an attack on one of his stars, well, an undead bodyguard can make sure the star doesn’t suffer for someone else’s problems.
Pandering
What happens when you give people more money than they imagined and treat them as living gods? They enjoy themselves, and don’t let trifl es like public morals or the laws get in their way. Actors, rock stars, athletes, the British royal family and other millionaire entertainers take drugs, sleep around, get in fi ghts with paparazzi and generally misbehave because they can. Undignifi ed or illegal recreations can still harm a celebrity’s career, though, so the smart ones hide their decadence behind high fences, closed drapes and locked doors. Some Players stand ready to help the celebrities enjoy themselves without fear of prosecution.
For instance, every celebrity knows the paparazzi are part of the publicity machine that keeps them rich and famous. Still, they do get in the way when you feel a sudden hankering for a hit of heroin or oral sex with a prostitute. No problem; your helpful Player stands ready to sally forth and procure whatever you want. A mortal servant could do the same — but a mortal servant couldn’t shake trailing paparazzi — or cops — using Obfuscate. A really skilled and experienced Player could deliver three leggy blondes, a Chinese acrobat and a goat to a star’s mansion and the lurking paparazzi wouldn’t notice a thing.
Now and then, a party guest parties a little too hard and dies of an overdose. The public forgives much, but not a dead body in the house. All Kindred necessarily develop some skill at moving and hiding corpses; again, the Players’ knack for Obfuscate renders them especially good at this. A skilled Player can even make the dearly departed seem to walk out the door under her own power, get in her car and drive away. What a shame that as soon as she got home, she stuffed enough coke up her nose to kill a camel.
Or maybe someone dies from rougher trade. The Fatty Arbuckle case was only the fi rst suspicious death in the midst of Hollywood revelry, and Tinseltown has seen more than a few actors, actresses, directors and assorted hangers-on murdered outright — some solved, some not. In some of the unsolved deaths, though, the chief suspects were other Hollywood luminaries. Which may explain why the cases were not solved. Most Players would be glad to help a star escape the consequences of one careless or intemperate moment. As vampires, Players have been in that position themselves — and that star will be their best friend forever, without any need for blood bonds or Majesty. Especially if the Player is smart enough to keep the photos in a secure location.
A Player can offer an even greater service to a star with anger management issues or dangerously extreme S&M proclivities. A star can live out the most extreme fantasies of sex and violence with a vampire as a partner. Strangling won’t hurt a lover who doesn’t need to breathe. A bit of impulsive gunfi re only stings, and even stabbing with a butcher knife isn’t too serious. Just so long as the celebrity doesn’t keep any wooden stakes or gasoline in the mansion . . . . This is also valuable for a “method” actor who expects to play a psycho pervert killer (not that uncommon a role these days). Why imagine what it’s like to torture, rape and kill someone, when you can do it? And the victim gets up afterward, no harm done that a quick drink of Vitae won’t heal.
Then again, a celebrity might want to have her fun outside her mansion’s security, and with someone who doesn’t heal the damage afterward. A Player who develops great skill at Obfuscate can offer an unbreakable alibi. Using the Familiar Stranger, a Player can make sure that no matter what a star does within the sight of one or two people, 10 or 12 people can honestly remember seeing her miles away at that time. This is about the greatest joy a Player can imagine: a famous entertainer, idol of millions, asking the Player to be her, if only for a few hours.
A celebrity might simply want someone dead: an inconvenient ex-boyfriend, an executive who won’t let him out of a contract grown onerous, a blackmailer, whatever. Or maybe it’s just some tribal vendetta within the industry, like two rappers who “got beef” with each other. A vampire who can move unseen makes an excellent assassin.
Not every secret desire is illegal, though. Some are simply unfashionable. For instance, by the 1940s, the sexual escapades of Errol Flynn could no longer shock Hollywood. His Nazi sympathies were another matter: the Warner Brothers’ publicity machine kept very those hushhush. Some political, social or religious ideas are still so controversial they could damage a career. A celebrity who admitted to al-Qaida sympathies would receive a firestorm of abuse from across the nation. (The Dixie Chicks got in trouble for less.) A Player could stay close to a star simply by agreeing with some unpopular opinion she must not express in public. Vampires know all about keeping secrets from the world. A Player might be the only person a celebrity could trust to never, ever write a career-destroying, tell-all book and flog it on the chat shows.
Don’t Even Think It
If all these potential services worry Princes and other guardians of the Masquerade, one service provokes terror and rage. Any Player who secures a long-term relationship with a famous mortal can expect a visit from the Prince’s Hound or maybe a summons from the Prince herself. The message: do not Embrace the celebrity. Famous faces and the Masquerade do not mix. Any Prince who thinks about the possibility reaches the same conclusion: an Embraced celebrity must be destroyed. Celebrities are watched too closely to hide what they are, and they are too well-known to drop out of sight — assuming they would even try.
A celebrity might be trusted to keep the Kindred’s existence a secret. A famous person saying vampires are real and she knows a few of them can be covered up: it was a nervous breakdown or a joke. A famous person saying she can prove vampires are real because she is one is simply too great a danger to allow. It’s safer and less trouble to explain away her disappearance.
Agent
Most of the time, Players use Majesty to dazzle their prey and feed their egos. Supernatural charisma can be turned to other ends, though. For instance, you can persuade anyone to talk to you. That’s a useful talent for an agent. Admittedly, most agents need to work during the day — but a Player could become part of a team of representatives. A lot of Hollywood’s negotiations take place informally, at parties, at night: the Player charms his way into a party, buttonholes a producer or director and dazzles him into agreeing that a particular actor would be perfect for his next movie or agreeing to hear the Player’s screenwriter “friend” pitch a script. In Hollywood, 10 minutes with an überproducer like Jerry Bruckheimer or Steven Spielberg can be worth millions — and a Player can get you those 10 minutes.
A clever Player might try creating his own celebrity. The world has no shortage of actors, singers, comedians and other entertainers who have talent but haven’t received their big break. A Player who knows how to meet the “suits” that award contracts can create breaks for his partner. This is far from sure-fire, but a Player with a small Herd of hopeful unknowns or semi-knowns — “talent,” in Hollywood parlance — has a chance of guiding one of them to fame and fortune, and riding her coattails to the top.
Whether the Player’s new star feels any gratitude is another matter. Show-biz is full of celebrities who didn’t repay the people who helped them become rich and famous. A Wannabe who spent years cultivating an entertainer, hoping to reach fame by proxy, might take such a betrayal badly enough to frenzy. It’s happened to mortals in the same position . . . .
A small, short-term job can still give a Player great prestige from other Wannabes. A Player may need to use Disciplines or The Vinculum to get an appearance in a commercial or a walk-on role in a movie (don’t forget the effort of will needed to be visible on fi lm), but, with enough people in the vampire’s thrall, he can do it. One rumor says the Studio That Knows About Vampires hires Kindred stuntmen for special shoots. A Player might also sit in on a famous musician’s jam session and perhaps supply back-up vocals or instrumentals on a song.
Any gig that lasts more than one night, however, becomes progressively more diffi cult. Never appearing in daytime is perhaps the most immediate obstacle to a Requiem spent in show-biz. For instance, stand-up comics receive a good bit of work from company picnics — not generally held at night. Even if an entertainer only takes after-dark jobs, there’s a lot of boring business stuff, like talking to agents, that is generally done during the day. A ghoul or mortal agent who knows about a Player’s special needs could help with some of these problems.
For Players, talent is also an issue. Many of them simply don’t have it. Some Players, however, merely lacked the talents to become famous; they managed small-time gigs in the lower ranks of the entertainment industry. Talented or not, a Wannabe who seeks a show-biz career may feel tempted to use his Disciplines. In some venues, this works. A Wannabe comic in a little club, a jazz musician who comes on after midnight or an actor in an off-off-Broadway bit of experimental theater might face an audience small enough to bamboozle through Majesty. Whatever the performance lacks in skill, the performer seems to make up for in raw charisma. (The Players also develop specialized Devotions that improve an audience’s reaction to a performance.)
In the end, though, using Disciplines to enhance a performance can increase a Player’s frustration. He seems great, but isn’t. He can’t use a small gig as a steppingstone to larger venues and greater exposure, because larger audiences are harder to affect. Greater exposure also means greater risk to the Masquerade. He can’t even try to further her career through CDs or DVDs, because Majesty doesn’t record. The brass ring of success stays an inch from his hand, but he can never reach it.
The most amazing and galling event possible for a Player, however, would be a chance at fame that comes unexpectedly. For example, suppose a Player wangles an appearance in a commercial, speaking a line that inexplicably becomes a pop-culture buzzword, like “Where’s the beef!” or “Whazzuuuup?” Suddenly, everyone wants him on the chat shows and magazine covers! TV sitcoms want him to appear as a bit of stuntcasting! Her 15 minutes of fame have fi nally come!
The brass ring just dropped in his hand, and he must throw it away — because he’s not human, and that secret must never come out. No interviews, no sitcom appearances, no cashing in. He must do everything possible to turn attention away from himself. All other Kindred demand it. The one thing Players love most is the one thing they can never have.
History
The Players don’t have much history of their own. They’ve been around at least 60 years, and maybe 80 — but no one cares much how the bloodline began, not even them. Wannabes have not been involved in any great events of Kindred history. The Players repeat stories of broodmates who appeared in big-budget movies or who modeled once for Christian Dior. Most of all, Players tell stories about themselves: this one brags about her fabulous night with Brad Pitt, that one boasts how Robin Williams wanted him as his opening act. Some of the stories might even be true.No one doubts the Players began in Hollywood. Their history is a spinoff of Tinseltown’s. When Hollywood began, the new moving pictures didn’t have stars. To the surprise of the studio entrepreneurs, audiences wanted names for their favorite actors. They wouldn’t settle for “the Biograph Boy” or “the Vitagraph Girl.” In a few years, movie actors went from anonymous hirelings to America’s new royalty. Millions idolized them and wanted to become them.
The studios quickly transformed the stars’ real identities into simplifi ed, mythic icons. A lovely young actress named Olive Thomas was dubbed “the Ideal American Girl.” At 20, she naturally married another star, Jack Pickford, “the Ideal American Boy.” The studios gave Theodosia Goodman, a tailor’s daughter from Ohio, a new life story along with a new name: she became Theda Bara, a supposed French-Arabic temptress as much of a femme fatale as the sex queens she played. Thousands of wouldbe actors fl ocked to Hollywood in hopes of joining their idols on the silver screen. Hadn’t the comic actor Roscoe “Fatty” Arbuckle been a mere plumber when Mack Sennett discovered him? Anyone might become a star!
The stars began living like royalty, too, spending their new fortunes on fi ne clothes, jewels, cars, mansions and parties on an epic scale. In 1920, Olive Thomas’ suicide introduced the Hollywood scandal, complete with drugs and rumors of adultery. In 1921, Fatty Arbuckle was accused of raping and killing a starlet at a drunken revel. Other stars were exposed as heroin addicts. The bluenoses howled at Hollywood’s debauchery, but, to many fans, the sex, booze and drugs were just part of the grand, glorious illusion.
Vampires didn’t take long to invade the cinema. The Secrets of House No. 5, perhaps the earliest vampire movie, was made in Britain in 1912. The first full-length vampire movie, London After Midnight, came in 1927. In 1931, Universal Studios released its version of Dracula: Bela Lugosi’s portrayal of the infamous count set female viewers shrieking and swooning, and sealed the image of the sinister yet sensual vampire aristocrat into pop culture forever. Many other actors would play vampires in the coming decades, but none would equal Lugosi in the popular imagination. Female vampires appeared too; they followed the lead set by Theda Bara, as well-endowed, predatory sexpots. In the 1970s, male vampires became man-pretty again with fi lm and TV portrayals of Dracula by Frank Langella and Louis Jourdan. The Lost Boys, in 1987, turned its vampires into leather-clad teenage punks instead of caped noblemen, but they remained amazingly good-looking. From then on, most TV and movie vampires were Hollywood heartthrobs with fangs, from Catherine Deneuve in The Hunger to Tom Cruise in Interview with a Vampire.
Most Players believe their line began after 1931, though some point out that Lugosi fi rst played Dracula on stage, in 1927. They are quite sure the fi rst Player split from the Mekhet clan by 1940. Some Wannabes believe their progenitor was an actor Embraced by a Mekhet for reasons unknown. Others believe the first Players were movie fans that found real vampires and begged to join the Danse Macabre — but most Wannabes just don’t care. The First Player doesn’t affect their Requiems in any way.
From the Source
Any vampire who cares enough can contact the Kindred of Los Angeles and ask them about the Players’ origin. The Angeleno vampires say the Players descend from a Mekhet called John Milford, or Melford, or possibly Melton; reports differ because he preferred to call himself “Count Yanosh Maldor.” His sire never took the blame for Count Yanosh, and many Angeleno Kindred think John Milford came to town already a vampire. Count Yanosh habitually dressed in a tuxedo and opera cape, and imitated Bela Lugosi’s accent (badly). He associated with the city’s Daeva as much as they would allow, and with movie stars as much as he could get away with. In 1973, the Prince of Los Angeles ordered Count Yanosh destroyed in a blood hunt: Milford’s attempt to make himself the “technical advisor” for Scream, Blacula, Scream was one Masquerade breach too many. “There’s really no story here,” the Angelenos insist. “He was just a jerk who got what he deserved.”Dark Speculations
Now and then, other Kindred fi nd the lack of information about the Players suspicious. The Angelenos’ story seems too prosaic. And why don’t more Wannabes know even that much? True, many Players show no interest in learning more Kindred tradition than they must — but your bloodline’s origin and founder are such basic information. Perhaps the Players’ origin holds some dark secret that someone wants to stay hidden.For instance, maybe the fi rst Player cut some sinister pact to gain an aptitude for Majesty and pass it through his Vitae. The entire lineage might owe their Blood and souls to the Devil, an ancient Daeva blood-witch or some other supernatural force of terrible yet unknown power. Some night, the pact will come due and all the Players must pay — or fi nd someone else to pay in their stead.
Or maybe the fi rst Player stole the power. Some elder evil might bide its time to rise and wreak vengeance on all who carry Player blood. Terrible shall be the reckoning when that night comes!
A few Kindred think the Players are too obviously insignifi cant. No bloodline, these Kindred declare, could be so shallow and lacking in power. Especially a bloodline from the Clan of Secrets. These vampires suspect the Players are pulling a gigantic con job on the other Kindred, as pawns or a front for some darker power.
Not a few Wannabes eagerly accept such suggestions, even the speculations that leave them doomed. Being doomed is more glamorous than being the scion of an undead movie buff who wanted a Discipline so much that he passed that longing to his childer.
Society and Culture
The Players are disorganized in the extreme. They do not attempt to impart special traditions to their childer. Players have no distinctive offi ces or tokens of prestige. The bloodline’s continuation depends entirely on its members’ shared obsession with celebrity.The bloodline does have a loose gossip network. Players like to brag about the stars they’ve met (and fed upon), memorabilia collected and other celebrityrelated achievements. Players brag to anyone willing to listen, but especially each other. If a Wannabe knows a broodmate in another city (most likely her sire or childe), the Wannabe makes sure to tell him how Robin Williams — Robin Williams! — laughed at one of her jokes. That Player may repeat the brag to other Wannabes, just to show how in-the-know he is.
The gossip network is patchy, though. It doesn’t reach all Players, and no member of the network receives all the gossip. Because of this, news, rumors and suggestions about ways to be part of showbiz travel slowly through the bloodline.
Making of a Player
Similar to many vampires, Players tend to Embrace mortals who share their attitudes and interests. The Wannabes attract mortals as star-struck as themselves. A Player usually leaves a bedazzled mortal with mild anemia and a proud conviction that she spent the night with a minor celebrity. Sometimes, however, the vampire and vessel feel a stronger attraction. A Player who craves the illusion of fame can fi nd a Devoted would-be groupie hard to resist. The lust to associate with someone famous renders a mortal especially susceptible to a Player’s pretenses, so these people make especially convenient vessels, too. The Player gets a steady source of blood from his “fan,” and the mortal thinks a star is in love with her. It’s a sweet little bit of co-dependency.The Player can’t maintain the charade forever, though. He can’t give his “fan” the perks of being close to a real celebrity: no backstage passes or visits to the studio, no screen test, no lavish gifts or valuable memorabilia. Even the dumbest mortal eventually fi gures out she’s dating a fraud. At this point, only Disciplines or a Vinculum can keep the mortal bound to the Player — for a while — with the Embrace as the fi nal gambit to preserve the illusion of star and fan a little longer.
On the other hand, a mortal “fan” may well figure her “celebrity” lover is actually a vampire — before the glamour wears off. A mortal who’s thinking clearly would see a vampire couldn’t also be a movie star, pro athlete, supermodel or other highly visible entertainer. Real celebrities need to do things during the day. A mortal who craves association with fame, though, might not think too clearly even if the Player hasn’t twisted her emotions through Disciplines. The mortal thinks being a vampire is all nightclubs, romance, cool clothes and cooler powers — because that’s what the Player himself wants to be. The Player has struggled against the Beast, longed to see the sun again, cut himself off from mortal friends and family and cursed his need for blood. He knows the Embrace is no gift. For a Player who’s vain, maybe a little stupid and defi nitely addicted to images and wishful thinking, however, it can be hard to resist your Number One Fan when she’s on his knees begging for the Embrace and babbling about immortal passion. Whether from neediness or being caught in their own self-aggrandizing illusions, the Wannabes sire childer more often than most vampires.
As usual with the Kindred, the Embrace seldom results in eternal devotion. Once the childe becomes immune to her sire’s Disciplines or Vinculum, disillusionment set in quickly — say, after the childe’s fi rst frenzy. At that point, the Player has a childe who knows he’s deceived, exploited and Damned her, but whom the Prince insists the Player train in Kindred ways. (Assuming the Prince hasn’t run them both out of town for an illicit Embrace — one reason such a new bloodline has spread so quickly.) Once a childe fi gures out how her sire bamboozled her, they both usually want to break off their relationship as soon as possible.
The childe, of course, begins as an ordinary Mekhet. Her victims do not become immune to her Disciplines or Vinculum. She also lacks the Players’ knack for Majesty. Some Player scions decide they’d rather stay ordinary Mekhet. If they want to learn Majesty without activating their bloodline’s special curse, they accept that progress will be slow. Quite a few nascent Players, however, simply don’t know they have a choice: their sires knew little and taught less. For many childer, the lure of supernatural charisma proves too strong. They, too, crave the illusion of celebrity — and when a childe acts like a Player, her Vitae easily changes once her Blood Potency rises high enough, beginning the cycle again.
Playing the Star
The Majesty power of Awe is a Wannabe’s chief technique for faking celebrity, but it isn’t enough by itself. Awe just makes you the coolest person in the room. You also have to dress like a star and talk like a showbiz insider. Most Players fi nd this easy. A Wannabe who gets her hands on some money can also buy jewelry, a suitably fl ashy car and other trappings of fame. Mostly, it’s all a bluff: you attract people through supernatural charisma, and tell them it’s because you’re an actor, sports hero, model or what-have-you. This is usually good enough to get a one-night stand and a decent feeding. Some Players stay with this simple game all their unlives. They tell other Wannabes about their big plans that will pay off any night now, but it’s just blather.Players who pose as Kindred of other clans, or vampires from their favorite movies, likewise rely heavily on props, speaking patterns and bluff. The Daeva or Ventrue Wannabe carefully copies the typical clothes and mannerisms of those clans — perhaps even specifi c Kindred. The would-be Daeva speaks languidly of the cruel games of seduction she’s played; the faux-Ventrue talks about high fi nance and power-plays in Elysium. A “Lost Boy” Wannabe combs and sprays his hair into spikes, wears black leather and practices sneering and swaggering; a “Blade” fan never appears without wraparound sunglasses and a trench coat. The Wannabe plays a double Masquerade: she poses as a really cool vampire posing as a mortal.
Kindred of other clans do not always consider a Wannabe’s imitation of them a form of flattery. When the Daeva Primogen sees a Player copying his outfi t, he may think the younger vampire seeks to assert a connection to him and his status — a rank the Player does not possess and does not deserve. Wannabes have met Final Death because an older vampire felt mocked or exploited by a clumsy, overeager Player. This is one reason many Players avoid Elysiums and other Kindred social events, and associate strictly with vampires as young and powerless as themselves.
Vicarious Celebrity
Most Players don’t settle for playing celebrity as a way to catch an easy meal. They want to be close to genuinely famous people, basking in their glamour. Once again, Majesty offers the simplest strategy. The glitterati are as easily enthralled as any other mortal. Get close to one, turn on the supernatural charisma, and you might get invited to a party — or home to bed, and a chance to feed on the blood of a media god. You might even join the celebrity’s entourage, or become her regular lover — for a while.Meeting the Famous
The problem lies in getting close to the celebrity. Part of an entourage’s job is to control access to the star. A Player can troll through the clubs in hopes of meeting a celebrity, but the Player can increase his chances in several ways.
One is to become a stalker. Hang around a chosen celebrity’s home. Send letters saying you’re the celebrity’s biggest fan and you want to meet her. Search the news for scheduled public appearances. Find out where she shops. Wherever you think she’ll go, be there, ready to apply the Majesty.
The strategy has disadvantages. Rich and famous people hire security guards to protect them from stalkers. The local police take a dim view of stalking, too. A Player risks attracting too much attention from the wrong sort of mortals. Nevertheless, quite a few Wannabes become stalkers: it goes with the celebrity obsession.
More cunning and patient Players look for circumstances in which a star might come to them. For instance, celebrities often hire limousines, especially when they’re traveling. A Wannabe can buy a limousine, place his name in the phone book (“Night service our specialty”) and hope a star and his friends call up and hire the Wannabe. In some places (the Las Vegas strip, for example), a freelance limo can simply park at the curb and wait for customers. Most of the time, you’ll just be hired by a middle-aged couple from Duluth who want to put on some swank for an evening, but now and then, a famous entertainer will want a limousine on short notice — and there you are. Judicious use of Awe can ensure repeat business, too.
What else does a celebrity want? High-class liquor? Drugs or prostitutes, most discreetly delivered” (Heidi Fleiss wasn’t the first “Hollywood Madame.”) Catering? Cleaning? Pet care? If a Player can fi nd a way to run a business like this — or at least gain the assistance of one, as an Ally — she might wangle a meeting with any number of glitterati.
A more ambitious Player might become a spiritual advisor. Some celebrities fi nd that money, fame and fall-of-Rome hedonism just aren’t enough, and try to find something Meaningful. The Beatles turned to transcendental Meditation. John Travolta and Tom Cruise chose Scientology. The latest Hollywood fad, however, is Jewish Kabbalism, with Madonna as the most famous convert. A Player could hook up with a Hollywood guru as a way to meet stars — or become one. A small group of people could easily mistake Awe for the charisma of a spiritual master. A few minor displays of other Disciplines could easily cement a Wannabe’s position as guru to the stars. He just has to lie about the source of his mystical powers. Naturally, Princes deeply dislike this strategy due to the risk to the Masquerade.
Joining the Entourage
Actors, rappers and other celebrities go about town with a group of other people. Some are bodyguards. One might be an appointment secretary. The entourage may also include the star’s Signifi cant Other of the month. Some of the people, however, are just hangers-on. These are often rich, young people who like the glamour of hanging with a celebrity. In return, they feed the star’s ego and help pay for the drinks and parties. As an extra benefi t, they get to enjoy the star’s excess or used-up groupies (the “cast-off trim,” in Hollywood parlance).
A Player can use Enthrallment to become a star’s lover of the week, and maybe manage a few months. Other Wannabes will envy his success. Explaining why he’s never available during the day is the Wannabe’s problem.
It may be safer just to become a friend and member of the entourage, with no obligation to show up at any particular event but a perpetual invitation to do so. Being in the entourage helps a Wannabe meet more celebrities, for the bragging rights of knowing them (or feeding from them), collecting memorabilia — and lining up the next patron when the glamour wears off the current celebrity friend.
Or maybe it won’t wear off. Who knows? Maybe an entertainer will want to keep the Wannabe around without the false emotions of Majesty or The Vinculum. Some Players hope for more in their Requiem, to the point of revealing they are vampires. Some stars are compassionate (or gullible) enough they would pity vampires and try to ameliorate their cursed existences. Some celebrities are so jaded that taking undead predators as lovers gives them a thrill. Either way, such a dangerous liaison probably won’t work out the way a Player wants.
Slaves of Hollywood
Some Players want a long-term, closer connection to celebrity. They aren’t satisfi ed with a few nights, or a few months, with a famous entertainer. Nor do they want to be mere parasites, using their Disciplines and Vitae to hold a place in a star’s entourage. They want to be in the game, real participants in celebrity culture. Being undead presents certain obstacles — but also presents certain opportunities, if a Wannabe is willing to break the Masquerade. As vampires, Players can offer services that would be diffi cult, if not impossible, for any mortal to supply.The obstacles are obvious. Anything a Player can do for a celebrity, he must do at night. The ineluctable truth is that mortals comfortably stay active for 15 to 18 hours at a stretch, while Kindred are limited, on average, to 12 or less — and though the glitterati may take a more casual attitude to bedtime than most people, they seldom adopt a truly nocturnal lifestyle. Any job a Player takes probably must be part-time.
The Masquerade, however, is less a concern than it might seem. When movie stars, pro athletes and other entertainers reach a certain level of fame, they live in a world as insulated from normal Humanity as the Kindred. These celebrities’ mansions have high walls and armed guards at the gates. The celebrities go from home to limousine to studio to fashionable nightclub to home again, shielded by their entourage. These celebrities encounter ordinary people only when they want to, and their security thinks it’s safe. Publicists and lawyers guard their images, so the public doesn’t see too much — at least, too much that isn’t staged as carefully as any scene on fi lm. A vampire can hide within this cocoon of protection and concealment, by becoming part of it. A celebrity’s Staff stands ready to hide drug use, sexual adventures and other scandalous behavior (as well as perfectly innocent details of daily life that are simply nobody’s business). They can also hide that one of the boss’ Staff drinks blood and doesn’t come out in the daytime.
Tell-all books by former employees remain a worry, at least to some Kindred who see a Player letting a celebrity friend in on the big secret. Players have two responses.
In the first place, eccentricity is normal in “show people” and their friends. Let some security guard or valet say Joe Famous has a vampire on Staff, and Joe Famous can instantly produce a platoon of mortals who sleep in coffins and drink the occasional sip of blood, but are fun guests at parties and quite mortal. If that isn’t enough, the star’s image-manipulation machine can trash the tale-teller’s reputation.
In the second place, anyone who would knowingly hire a vampire likely has other things he keeps secret, too. Prosecutable things. The celebrity’s Staff already knows they could face indictment as accessories to their employer’s activities. They also know that if they try to turn State’s Evidence, their employer has little to lose by trying to kill them — and has a supernatural assassin on call. All in all, these Players think the Masquerade is safe with a few celebrities in the know. Or a few dozen . . . .
Ghouls
Perhaps the greatest service a Player can offer is access to his Vitae. In most branches of the entertainment industry, youth is everything. A pro athlete pushes retirement at 40. A model can be over the hill at 25. Actors and actresses don’t have it quite so bad, but they know the older you get, the fewer roles become available — especially the lucrative starring roles. Better not mind becoming one of those character actors who gets listed sixth or seventh or tenth when the credits roll. . . . Or worse, going on Hollywood Squares.
The temptation can be especially strong for a child star, whose career has an even shorter time limit. So often, a child star’s career ends at puberty, and he becomes a realtor, a homeless bum or a guest on The Surreal Life. Even if a Player balks at ghouling a child, the parents probably won’t. (Don’t think about the complexes fostered in a child whose parents insist she drink the blood of a re-animated corpse.)
A vampire can keep an entertainer young — not just looking young, really young, and no plastic surgery required! She just has to drink the vampire’s blood every month, and either she or the vampire makes the effort of will to preserve the supernatural taint that keeps her a ghoul.
Of course, the third drink of Vitae creates the artificial love of The Vinculum. For other Kindred, The Vinculum turns a ghoul into a willing slave as long as the vampire chooses. A blood bond to a Player, however, lasts only a few months. After that, the Player no longer has any supernatural hold on the ghoul’s emotions. The balance of power shifts. The ghoul knows exactly what she wants from the Player: a continued supply of Vitae. The Player’s position is more uncertain. He can’t ask for too much, especially if the ghoul knows that other Players exist. Quite possibly, two Players could get in a bidding war for a celebrity ghoul, giving her the strongest position in the negotiations.
As time passes, a Player slowly regains a measure of power over the ghoul. The more years of deferred aging pile up, the greater the ghoul’s incentive to keep her domitor happy. Eventually, she will owe her very life to the vampire (though she could still seek another Player as a replacement domitor). On the other hand, eternal youth eventually becomes impossible to explain away, even with dubious procedures in Switzerland. At least, that’s what other Kindred guess. No one in this young bloodline has kept a celebrity ghoul long enough for such complications to arise — as far as other Kindred know.
The lure of prolonged life and youth isn’t limited to actors, models, athletes and other performers. The money-men in the back room want to live forever, too. For a few months, a producer or studio head loves the Player with a helpless passion. Then his mind clears. He is once more a very rich man who knows more about the Kindred than the Kindred want. The Player can receive wealth, willing vessels, invitations to all the best parties, whatever she desires — or some very bad men can visit her at high noon and take her into the famous California sun. Her choice. Admittedly, no one claims this has actually happened yet. It’s just something other Kindred worry about when they look at the Players’ drive to be part of show-biz.
Longevity isn’t the only benefit to a ghoul. Vitae also passes on a small capacity to learn Disciplines. A single dot of a Discipline, however, could be a godsend to some entertainers. A smidgen of Celerity or Vigor could push a second-string pro athlete to the top of the league. One dot of Majesty won’t help an actor on screen — but Majesty sure helps convince a producer or director to hire you. Awe could help mollify a cop who catches you driving 40 miles over the speed limit. One dot of Obfuscate is useful to hide a pocketful of cocaine.
Bodyguard to the Stars
Even though a Player can only act at night, for those 12 hours he’s a heck of a bodyguard. Auspex helps a Player spot danger before it becomes immediate; Celerity helps him act fi rst and take down an attacker. Expending Vitae on Physical Attributes makes the Player even more formidable. Obfuscate lets the Player bring a weapon anywhere or stand guard without being noticed at all. Mere mortals won’t do him much harm with guns, chairs and other improvised clubs, or fi sts. Once an attacker’s caught, a touch of Confession can reveal why the attack took place. Sure, most peoplewho seem threatening turn out to be overexcited fans or garden-variety star-stalkers — but once in a while, an attack might come from a serious enemy. Show-biz sometimes crosses paths with organized crime and people get in over their heads. If a mafi oso wants to threaten a producer through an attack on one of his stars, well, an undead bodyguard can make sure the star doesn’t suffer for someone else’s problems.
Pandering
What happens when you give people more money than they imagined and treat them as living gods? They enjoy themselves, and don’t let trifl es like public morals or the laws get in their way. Actors, rock stars, athletes, the British royal family and other millionaire entertainers take drugs, sleep around, get in fi ghts with paparazzi and generally misbehave because they can. Undignifi ed or illegal recreations can still harm a celebrity’s career, though, so the smart ones hide their decadence behind high fences, closed drapes and locked doors. Some Players stand ready to help the celebrities enjoy themselves without fear of prosecution.
For instance, every celebrity knows the paparazzi are part of the publicity machine that keeps them rich and famous. Still, they do get in the way when you feel a sudden hankering for a hit of heroin or oral sex with a prostitute. No problem; your helpful Player stands ready to sally forth and procure whatever you want. A mortal servant could do the same — but a mortal servant couldn’t shake trailing paparazzi — or cops — using Obfuscate. A really skilled and experienced Player could deliver three leggy blondes, a Chinese acrobat and a goat to a star’s mansion and the lurking paparazzi wouldn’t notice a thing.
Now and then, a party guest parties a little too hard and dies of an overdose. The public forgives much, but not a dead body in the house. All Kindred necessarily develop some skill at moving and hiding corpses; again, the Players’ knack for Obfuscate renders them especially good at this. A skilled Player can even make the dearly departed seem to walk out the door under her own power, get in her car and drive away. What a shame that as soon as she got home, she stuffed enough coke up her nose to kill a camel.
Or maybe someone dies from rougher trade. The Fatty Arbuckle case was only the fi rst suspicious death in the midst of Hollywood revelry, and Tinseltown has seen more than a few actors, actresses, directors and assorted hangers-on murdered outright — some solved, some not. In some of the unsolved deaths, though, the chief suspects were other Hollywood luminaries. Which may explain why the cases were not solved. Most Players would be glad to help a star escape the consequences of one careless or intemperate moment. As vampires, Players have been in that position themselves — and that star will be their best friend forever, without any need for blood bonds or Majesty. Especially if the Player is smart enough to keep the photos in a secure location.
A Player can offer an even greater service to a star with anger management issues or dangerously extreme S&M proclivities. A star can live out the most extreme fantasies of sex and violence with a vampire as a partner. Strangling won’t hurt a lover who doesn’t need to breathe. A bit of impulsive gunfi re only stings, and even stabbing with a butcher knife isn’t too serious. Just so long as the celebrity doesn’t keep any wooden stakes or gasoline in the mansion . . . . This is also valuable for a “method” actor who expects to play a psycho pervert killer (not that uncommon a role these days). Why imagine what it’s like to torture, rape and kill someone, when you can do it? And the victim gets up afterward, no harm done that a quick drink of Vitae won’t heal.
Then again, a celebrity might want to have her fun outside her mansion’s security, and with someone who doesn’t heal the damage afterward. A Player who develops great skill at Obfuscate can offer an unbreakable alibi. Using the Familiar Stranger, a Player can make sure that no matter what a star does within the sight of one or two people, 10 or 12 people can honestly remember seeing her miles away at that time. This is about the greatest joy a Player can imagine: a famous entertainer, idol of millions, asking the Player to be her, if only for a few hours.
A celebrity might simply want someone dead: an inconvenient ex-boyfriend, an executive who won’t let him out of a contract grown onerous, a blackmailer, whatever. Or maybe it’s just some tribal vendetta within the industry, like two rappers who “got beef” with each other. A vampire who can move unseen makes an excellent assassin.
Not every secret desire is illegal, though. Some are simply unfashionable. For instance, by the 1940s, the sexual escapades of Errol Flynn could no longer shock Hollywood. His Nazi sympathies were another matter: the Warner Brothers’ publicity machine kept very those hushhush. Some political, social or religious ideas are still so controversial they could damage a career. A celebrity who admitted to al-Qaida sympathies would receive a firestorm of abuse from across the nation. (The Dixie Chicks got in trouble for less.) A Player could stay close to a star simply by agreeing with some unpopular opinion she must not express in public. Vampires know all about keeping secrets from the world. A Player might be the only person a celebrity could trust to never, ever write a career-destroying, tell-all book and flog it on the chat shows.
Don’t Even Think It
If all these potential services worry Princes and other guardians of the Masquerade, one service provokes terror and rage. Any Player who secures a long-term relationship with a famous mortal can expect a visit from the Prince’s Hound or maybe a summons from the Prince herself. The message: do not Embrace the celebrity. Famous faces and the Masquerade do not mix. Any Prince who thinks about the possibility reaches the same conclusion: an Embraced celebrity must be destroyed. Celebrities are watched too closely to hide what they are, and they are too well-known to drop out of sight — assuming they would even try.
A celebrity might be trusted to keep the Kindred’s existence a secret. A famous person saying vampires are real and she knows a few of them can be covered up: it was a nervous breakdown or a joke. A famous person saying she can prove vampires are real because she is one is simply too great a danger to allow. It’s safer and less trouble to explain away her disappearance.
Agent
Most of the time, Players use Majesty to dazzle their prey and feed their egos. Supernatural charisma can be turned to other ends, though. For instance, you can persuade anyone to talk to you. That’s a useful talent for an agent. Admittedly, most agents need to work during the day — but a Player could become part of a team of representatives. A lot of Hollywood’s negotiations take place informally, at parties, at night: the Player charms his way into a party, buttonholes a producer or director and dazzles him into agreeing that a particular actor would be perfect for his next movie or agreeing to hear the Player’s screenwriter “friend” pitch a script. In Hollywood, 10 minutes with an überproducer like Jerry Bruckheimer or Steven Spielberg can be worth millions — and a Player can get you those 10 minutes.
A clever Player might try creating his own celebrity. The world has no shortage of actors, singers, comedians and other entertainers who have talent but haven’t received their big break. A Player who knows how to meet the “suits” that award contracts can create breaks for his partner. This is far from sure-fire, but a Player with a small Herd of hopeful unknowns or semi-knowns — “talent,” in Hollywood parlance — has a chance of guiding one of them to fame and fortune, and riding her coattails to the top.
Whether the Player’s new star feels any gratitude is another matter. Show-biz is full of celebrities who didn’t repay the people who helped them become rich and famous. A Wannabe who spent years cultivating an entertainer, hoping to reach fame by proxy, might take such a betrayal badly enough to frenzy. It’s happened to mortals in the same position . . . .
I Did It Myyyyy Way . . .
A few Players try to break into show-biz for real. They don’t want just to hang around entertainers; they want to be entertainers, if only for a little while. The need to uphold the Masquerade, and the intrinsic limitations of undeath, make any entertainment job diffi cult — but possible.A small, short-term job can still give a Player great prestige from other Wannabes. A Player may need to use Disciplines or The Vinculum to get an appearance in a commercial or a walk-on role in a movie (don’t forget the effort of will needed to be visible on fi lm), but, with enough people in the vampire’s thrall, he can do it. One rumor says the Studio That Knows About Vampires hires Kindred stuntmen for special shoots. A Player might also sit in on a famous musician’s jam session and perhaps supply back-up vocals or instrumentals on a song.
Any gig that lasts more than one night, however, becomes progressively more diffi cult. Never appearing in daytime is perhaps the most immediate obstacle to a Requiem spent in show-biz. For instance, stand-up comics receive a good bit of work from company picnics — not generally held at night. Even if an entertainer only takes after-dark jobs, there’s a lot of boring business stuff, like talking to agents, that is generally done during the day. A ghoul or mortal agent who knows about a Player’s special needs could help with some of these problems.
For Players, talent is also an issue. Many of them simply don’t have it. Some Players, however, merely lacked the talents to become famous; they managed small-time gigs in the lower ranks of the entertainment industry. Talented or not, a Wannabe who seeks a show-biz career may feel tempted to use his Disciplines. In some venues, this works. A Wannabe comic in a little club, a jazz musician who comes on after midnight or an actor in an off-off-Broadway bit of experimental theater might face an audience small enough to bamboozle through Majesty. Whatever the performance lacks in skill, the performer seems to make up for in raw charisma. (The Players also develop specialized Devotions that improve an audience’s reaction to a performance.)
In the end, though, using Disciplines to enhance a performance can increase a Player’s frustration. He seems great, but isn’t. He can’t use a small gig as a steppingstone to larger venues and greater exposure, because larger audiences are harder to affect. Greater exposure also means greater risk to the Masquerade. He can’t even try to further her career through CDs or DVDs, because Majesty doesn’t record. The brass ring of success stays an inch from his hand, but he can never reach it.
The most amazing and galling event possible for a Player, however, would be a chance at fame that comes unexpectedly. For example, suppose a Player wangles an appearance in a commercial, speaking a line that inexplicably becomes a pop-culture buzzword, like “Where’s the beef!” or “Whazzuuuup?” Suddenly, everyone wants him on the chat shows and magazine covers! TV sitcoms want him to appear as a bit of stuntcasting! Her 15 minutes of fame have fi nally come!
The brass ring just dropped in his hand, and he must throw it away — because he’s not human, and that secret must never come out. No interviews, no sitcom appearances, no cashing in. He must do everything possible to turn attention away from himself. All other Kindred demand it. The one thing Players love most is the one thing they can never have.
Common Dress code
Appearance: Wannabes come in every race. Male and female Players are equally common. Almost all are young in mortal terms, however, and at least moderately attractive. Street-chic fashions (often a few years out of date) such as velvet shirts or tight vinyl miniskirts and bustiers are common, while some Players prefer meticulously ripped T-shirts and jeans. If it was in one of last year’s mega-blockbuster movies, though, Players will wear it. Wannabes are especially recognizable by their gorgeous, immaculately gelled and blow-dried hair.
Art & Architecture
Haven: Players often dwell in lofts or condos with the décor dutifully copied from fashionable magazines or TV shows. Some Wannabes imitate the styles of other vampires, though: for instance, a house with faux-Victorian gingerbread nailed on for the would-be Ventrue or a derelict church’s crypt for one who likes the angst potential of the Nosferatu. There’s always a coffin.
Common Customs, traditions and rituals
Disciplines and Devotions
Players love the cool things they can do with Disciplines. Majesty is, of course, their favorite Discipline. They like Obfuscate too, but fi nd it frustrating that the coolest powers — invisibility and impersonating other people — take so long to develop. Wearing a celebrity’s face is even better than hanging out with him! Celerity is okay; it’s nice to act fi rst and mortals who attack you because you stole their boyfriend or girlfriend. It can’t compare to Vigor, though: picking up a guy and throwing through a wall is just too cool! Besides, most vampire movies show the undead as super-strong. The Mekhet profi ciency with Celerity ends when a Player joins the bloodline, just because generations of Wannabes worked to develop Vigor instead. Still, Players often pick up a little Celerity before making the change.Many Wannabes don’t care much for Auspex. Spotting a celebrity across a crowded dance floor with Heightened Senses or smelling what drink a potential groupie had last is nice but not terrific. The same goes for reading emotional states in auras: Players intend to make emotional states to order. Some Wannabes value the Spirit’s Touch because they can read psychic impressions from celebrity memorabilia. (At least, they say they can; an autographed baseball or a pair of shoes worn once on set didn’t associate with a star long enough to pick up a real aura.) Being able to read a star’s mind sounds utterly cool to a Player, and spying on a star as an unseen spirit sounds even cooler — but few Players are old enough or persistent enough to have achieved such mastery.
Indeed, Players seldom master any Discipline completely. Instead, they like to dabble and pick up the basics of whatever Discipline seems cool — and they have a chance to learn. Wannabes seldom achieve enough respect or power to persuade other Kindred to teach them. Most Players must learn new Disciplines from their fellow Wannabes, or attempt self-study, which limits them to the most common Disciplines.
Dominate is probably the favorite out-of-clan Discipline, because lots of movie vampires can hypnotize people. Some Wannabes love grabbing a victim’s chin and saying, “Look deep into my eyes — You will obey me —” often in a Bela Lugosi accent. Not many Players see any point in advancing beyond The Forgetful Mind, though: the few who did learned that their Conditioning always wears off in time. Players tell rumors of Wannabes who built real entertainment careers by possessing mortals, but no one can attach names, dates and places to these Kindred urban legends.
Devotions
The Players’ tendency to learn a few dots each of multiple Disciplines gives them the potential to learn many different Devotions as well. They seldom realize that potential. The Kindred often guard Devotions even more jealously than their Disciplines. The Wannabes developed several Devotions of their own, however, and trade them quite freely. Tue to the bloodline’s obsessions, the price for teaching a Discipline or Devotion is usually something such as an introduction to a famous entertainer and a chance to feed one time from her.The Players’ Devotions usually involve presenting a false image. No supernatural ban prevents Wannabes from learning Devotions that do something real. They simply have more interest in the semblance of glamour, so they invented Devotions for that purpose. Or to put it another way: they don’t want to become powerful Kindred; they want to play them on TV.
Major organizations
Covenant: So far, most Players are unaligned. Connections through sires and broodmates help a great deal in joining any covenant, and the Players are too new to enjoy the benefi ts of undead nepotism. The lineage began among Mekhet with little knowledge of Kindred society, and many Players still get more ideas about vampirism from movies than from other undead.
The Wannabes who learn about Kindred society often find the Carthians the most accessible, due to the covenant’s strong ties to the mortal world and contemporary culture. On the other hand, the pomp and grandeur of The Invictus appeals to the Players’ sense of drama: beyond a doubt, The Invictus seem like the glitterati among the Kindred. The Acolytes, Sanctifi ed and Dragons are too arcane to appeal much to Players, and leaders of these covenants often despise the Wannabes for their obsession with image and the cutting edge of pop culture.
Organization: The Players are too new to have evolved any formal ranks, titles or institutions of their own. If a city hosts several Wannabes, they might gather in some trendy location to preen, try out cool taglines on each other and engage in competitive fl irting. Players often try to steal away each other’s mortal admirers — possibly to feed on them, but sometimes just to show who’s coolest. Wannabes often brag about the important Kindred they know: “As I was saying to the Ventrue Primogen last week . . . .” Stories about brooding contests are slanders.
Instead of creating a culture of their own, Players immerse themselves in mortal institutions and subcultures in which they can indulge their lust for the trappings of fame. Trendy bars, nightclubs and other nocturnal entertainments are their favored haunts, as well as parties held by and for the beautiful, rich and at least semi-famous. The intrinsic limitations of undeath keep Players from pursuing real fame, but some of them find roles in the lower ranks of the entertainment industry. What does it matter if you tell jokes poorly, miss notes or mumble your lines? You can make the audience applaud!
The lineage began in Los Angeles, the glittering, mad heart of media illusion. Players remain most numerous in southern California. In recent decades, however, they have appeared in other cities with strong media industries such as New York, Vancouver and London, with rumors of Wannabes as far away as Hong Kong and New Zealand. Now they are spreading out even farther. A Player could take up residence in any city in the Western world, and maybe beyond.
The Wannabes who learn about Kindred society often find the Carthians the most accessible, due to the covenant’s strong ties to the mortal world and contemporary culture. On the other hand, the pomp and grandeur of The Invictus appeals to the Players’ sense of drama: beyond a doubt, The Invictus seem like the glitterati among the Kindred. The Acolytes, Sanctifi ed and Dragons are too arcane to appeal much to Players, and leaders of these covenants often despise the Wannabes for their obsession with image and the cutting edge of pop culture.
Organization: The Players are too new to have evolved any formal ranks, titles or institutions of their own. If a city hosts several Wannabes, they might gather in some trendy location to preen, try out cool taglines on each other and engage in competitive fl irting. Players often try to steal away each other’s mortal admirers — possibly to feed on them, but sometimes just to show who’s coolest. Wannabes often brag about the important Kindred they know: “As I was saying to the Ventrue Primogen last week . . . .” Stories about brooding contests are slanders.
Instead of creating a culture of their own, Players immerse themselves in mortal institutions and subcultures in which they can indulge their lust for the trappings of fame. Trendy bars, nightclubs and other nocturnal entertainments are their favored haunts, as well as parties held by and for the beautiful, rich and at least semi-famous. The intrinsic limitations of undeath keep Players from pursuing real fame, but some of them find roles in the lower ranks of the entertainment industry. What does it matter if you tell jokes poorly, miss notes or mumble your lines? You can make the audience applaud!
The lineage began in Los Angeles, the glittering, mad heart of media illusion. Players remain most numerous in southern California. In recent decades, however, they have appeared in other cities with strong media industries such as New York, Vancouver and London, with rumors of Wannabes as far away as Hong Kong and New Zealand. Now they are spreading out even farther. A Player could take up residence in any city in the Western world, and maybe beyond.
Nickname: Wannabes, Posers and less printable names. A few Players call themselves the Lonely Ones when they want to exploit vampire-lifestyle groupies.
Character Creation: Social Attributes and Skills are primary or at least secondary for Players. Very often, a Player’s charm or looks attracted her sire to her out of the other mortal groupies. Mental Attributes and Skills tend to be tertiary or secondary. Players almost never start out with high ratings in any Skill: in life, they were the half-talented, the also-rans, who never quite had what it took to become stars. Any Merits are also low-rated, such as minor Contacts, the rudiments of a Martial Art or minimal Status in a covenant. Striking Appearance •• is possible, but not the higherrated version (at which one can become famous on looks alone). Most of all, Players gather Herds of mortal admirers.
Bloodline Disciplines: Auspex, Celerity, Majesty, Obfuscate
Weakness: Like all Mekhet, the Players take an extra point of aggravated damage from sunlight or fire. Players also suffer a more peculiar and frustrating weakness: a Wannabe’s victim eventually becomes immune to the Wannabe’s supernatural influence. This special weakness applies equally to Kindred and kine targets.
Whenever a Player tries to affect a target’s mind with a Discipline, count the number of 1’s rolled. If more 1’s are rolled than successes, treat the roll as a dramatic failure. What’s more, if the character ever suffers a dramatic failure for Discipline usage (for whatever reason), the character’s target becomes immune to the character’s mental manipulation permanently, not just until the next sunset. (Of course, the target does not become immune to Disciplines used by other vampires — just that one character.) Among the standard Disciplines, Animalism, Auspex, Dominate, Majesty, Nightmare and Obfuscate are all considered “mind-affecting.”
A Player can regain the power to affect a target’s mind by placing that mortal or vampire under a Vinculum. This, too, however, is temporary. A Vinculum to a Wannabe lasts one month, plus one month per point of Blood Potency the character possesses. When The Vinculum wears off, the former thrall becomes immune to further blood bonding or mental Disciplines from the character. A Player can regain infl uence over a mortal target one last time by Embracing the target. Then the childe can be enthralled through Disciplines or Vitae again — for a while, until the childe regains his immunity once more.
Concepts: Bartender with a screenplay at Universal, body double for J. Lo’s foot, celebrity’s bodyguard, child star who grew up, failed actor, last year’s boy band member, movie geek, over-the-hill model, professional Dracula impersonator, sports non-star, stalker, third-rate stand-up comic
Storytellers can give the Players a secret origin if they want. The text mentions a few speculations that can offer a starting point. If you want to do this, fi rst ask yourself: So what? How will this affect Wannabes in your chronicle?
If you set your chronicle in Los Angeles, any mysteries in the Players’ origin can easily affect modern characters. The bloodline’s founder might be active as one of the city’s ancillae, available to answer questions or suppress such inquiries. Any secret infl uence over the Players is probably centered on Los Angeles as well.
To affect Players outside Los Angeles, any secret in the bloodline’s past probably needs some supernatural way to affect Kindred at a distance. For instance, suppose the speculation about a pact with the Devil is true: Every 10 years (or whatever), a Player must fi nd a soul to send to Hell, or go himself. Giving the Embrace fulfi lls the terms of the pact, by forcing it on someone else. A Player could learn about the pact when her sire tells her she has a month before the Devil takes her. What does she do? Does she enthrall some hapless mortal to sign a pact, offering himself to the Devil in her place? Does she Embrace a childe herself? Does she disbelieve her sire and do nothing? Every choice has consequences that make a good story, whether the pact really exists or is just a delusion of the character’s sire.
You don’t have to give the Wannabes a dark secret history, though. The Players look like a joke — but where vampires are concerned, even the jokes have teeth . . . .
Lana Turner, the “Sweater Girl,” had many husbands and lovers, so it was not entirely surprising when she took up with Johnny Stompanato, former bodyguard to gangster Mickey Cohen, part-time operator of a gift shop and full-time gigolo. Their passion for each other was extreme, obsessive and dangerous. Lana liked the “happy aches” Johnny gave her. He also threatened to cut her face if she didn’t obey him completely. Their S&M romance ended when Lana’s teenage daughter Cheryl, terrified by Johnny’s latest threats against Lana and her family, stabbed him in the stomach. He died. The jury accepted that the murder was self-defense.
Enthrallment and The Vinculum both create strong passion. Neither entertainers nor obsessive fan Wannabes, however, are models of emotional stability to begin with. The Daeva select and train childer to manage and exploit lust and obsession. The Players do not. Vampires often hurt the ones they love; mortals do, too — and fire, sunlight or stakes are all readily available.
This section chiefly applies to Players who reside in Los Angeles. No other city has so many Players eager to work for celebrity entertainers, or so many entertainers who would hire Players. Hollywood created the Players; it was only a matter of time before Hollywood found a use for them. According to the Players’ gossip network, at least a dozen famous actors and actresses have Players in their entourages, with more Players taking this path every year. At least one studio is in on the secret, too, and recruits Players for its top stars. Every major studio has been named as “the one,” though never with proof. The gossip is also uncertain whether this studio is secretly owned by Kindred or simply knows of their existence and sees them as one more resource to exploit. Kindred in other cities hope it’s the former — or that the whole story is just Players trying to puff up their own importance.
A few other cities have large entertainment industries, most notably in the United States, New York and Las Vegas. In other cities, Players have fewer opportunities to latch onto celebrities, and a mortal culture less forgiving of a star’s peccadilloes. In Los Angeles, marital infi delity and a stint in drug rehab are just part of celebrity glamour: you have to get into wanton murder or child molestation before careers are ruined and there’s time spent in jail. In most other cities, the cops and district attorneys are more willing to investigate and prosecute. Still, a Player who perseveres might hook up with the star player of a local sports team or fi nd some other local celebrity who could use a vampire’s help.
Not all Players can use these stratagems. They only work for smart, savvy Kindred, and most Players start out as neither. The Wannabes’ gossip network is also patchy enough that many Players have not heard how such things are done. In time, though, an ambitious, hardworking Wannabe can develop the skills and mentality to become a real Player in show-biz.
Pandering to a star’s kinks can spiral out of control and lead to dangerous obsessions from either party. Bob Crane and a groupie-cameraman called John Carpenter (not the well-known director) became obsessed with filming each other having sex with anonymous women. Lots of anonymous women. Enough though public knowledge of Crane’s “hobby” could have trashed Crane’s career. Crane tried to quit the game. Shortly thereafter, he was murdered in a Flagstaff motel. Partner-in-porn Carpenter was acquitted, but remains the chief suspect.
Once the sordid tale came out, Hollywood showed its usual compassion and good taste by making it into a movie: Auto Focus.
Actress Dorothy Stratten’s career began when her photographer boyfriend sent pictures of her to Playboy. She became a Playmate, which led to small movie roles, then bigger ones. Stars don’t need low-rent pornographer boyfriends. Enraged by being left behind, Stratten’s ditched boyfriend killed her.
Parent ethnicities
Bloodline Disciplines: Auspex, Celerity, Majesty, Obfuscate
Weakness: Like all Mekhet, the Players take an extra point of aggravated damage from sunlight or fire. Players also suffer a more peculiar and frustrating weakness: a Wannabe’s victim eventually becomes immune to the Wannabe’s supernatural influence. This special weakness applies equally to Kindred and kine targets.
Whenever a Player tries to affect a target’s mind with a Discipline, count the number of 1’s rolled. If more 1’s are rolled than successes, treat the roll as a dramatic failure. What’s more, if the character ever suffers a dramatic failure for Discipline usage (for whatever reason), the character’s target becomes immune to the character’s mental manipulation permanently, not just until the next sunset. (Of course, the target does not become immune to Disciplines used by other vampires — just that one character.) Among the standard Disciplines, Animalism, Auspex, Dominate, Majesty, Nightmare and Obfuscate are all considered “mind-affecting.”
A Player can regain the power to affect a target’s mind by placing that mortal or vampire under a Vinculum. This, too, however, is temporary. A Vinculum to a Wannabe lasts one month, plus one month per point of Blood Potency the character possesses. When The Vinculum wears off, the former thrall becomes immune to further blood bonding or mental Disciplines from the character. A Player can regain infl uence over a mortal target one last time by Embracing the target. Then the childe can be enthralled through Disciplines or Vitae again — for a while, until the childe regains his immunity once more.
Concepts: Bartender with a screenplay at Universal, body double for J. Lo’s foot, celebrity’s bodyguard, child star who grew up, failed actor, last year’s boy band member, movie geek, over-the-hill model, professional Dracula impersonator, sports non-star, stalker, third-rate stand-up comic
Dark Secrets?
Storytellers can give the Players a secret origin if they want. The text mentions a few speculations that can offer a starting point. If you want to do this, fi rst ask yourself: So what? How will this affect Wannabes in your chronicle?If you set your chronicle in Los Angeles, any mysteries in the Players’ origin can easily affect modern characters. The bloodline’s founder might be active as one of the city’s ancillae, available to answer questions or suppress such inquiries. Any secret infl uence over the Players is probably centered on Los Angeles as well.
To affect Players outside Los Angeles, any secret in the bloodline’s past probably needs some supernatural way to affect Kindred at a distance. For instance, suppose the speculation about a pact with the Devil is true: Every 10 years (or whatever), a Player must fi nd a soul to send to Hell, or go himself. Giving the Embrace fulfi lls the terms of the pact, by forcing it on someone else. A Player could learn about the pact when her sire tells her she has a month before the Devil takes her. What does she do? Does she enthrall some hapless mortal to sign a pact, offering himself to the Devil in her place? Does she Embrace a childe herself? Does she disbelieve her sire and do nothing? Every choice has consequences that make a good story, whether the pact really exists or is just a delusion of the character’s sire.
You don’t have to give the Wannabes a dark secret history, though. The Players look like a joke — but where vampires are concerned, even the jokes have teeth . . . .
A Cautionary Tale: Lana Turner and Johnny Stompanato
Lana Turner, the “Sweater Girl,” had many husbands and lovers, so it was not entirely surprising when she took up with Johnny Stompanato, former bodyguard to gangster Mickey Cohen, part-time operator of a gift shop and full-time gigolo. Their passion for each other was extreme, obsessive and dangerous. Lana liked the “happy aches” Johnny gave her. He also threatened to cut her face if she didn’t obey him completely. Their S&M romance ended when Lana’s teenage daughter Cheryl, terrified by Johnny’s latest threats against Lana and her family, stabbed him in the stomach. He died. The jury accepted that the murder was self-defense.Enthrallment and The Vinculum both create strong passion. Neither entertainers nor obsessive fan Wannabes, however, are models of emotional stability to begin with. The Daeva select and train childer to manage and exploit lust and obsession. The Players do not. Vampires often hurt the ones they love; mortals do, too — and fire, sunlight or stakes are all readily available.
Players in La-La Land
This section chiefly applies to Players who reside in Los Angeles. No other city has so many Players eager to work for celebrity entertainers, or so many entertainers who would hire Players. Hollywood created the Players; it was only a matter of time before Hollywood found a use for them. According to the Players’ gossip network, at least a dozen famous actors and actresses have Players in their entourages, with more Players taking this path every year. At least one studio is in on the secret, too, and recruits Players for its top stars. Every major studio has been named as “the one,” though never with proof. The gossip is also uncertain whether this studio is secretly owned by Kindred or simply knows of their existence and sees them as one more resource to exploit. Kindred in other cities hope it’s the former — or that the whole story is just Players trying to puff up their own importance.A few other cities have large entertainment industries, most notably in the United States, New York and Las Vegas. In other cities, Players have fewer opportunities to latch onto celebrities, and a mortal culture less forgiving of a star’s peccadilloes. In Los Angeles, marital infi delity and a stint in drug rehab are just part of celebrity glamour: you have to get into wanton murder or child molestation before careers are ruined and there’s time spent in jail. In most other cities, the cops and district attorneys are more willing to investigate and prosecute. Still, a Player who perseveres might hook up with the star player of a local sports team or fi nd some other local celebrity who could use a vampire’s help.
Not all Players can use these stratagems. They only work for smart, savvy Kindred, and most Players start out as neither. The Wannabes’ gossip network is also patchy enough that many Players have not heard how such things are done. In time, though, an ambitious, hardworking Wannabe can develop the skills and mentality to become a real Player in show-biz.
A Cautionary Tale: Bob Crane
Pandering to a star’s kinks can spiral out of control and lead to dangerous obsessions from either party. Bob Crane and a groupie-cameraman called John Carpenter (not the well-known director) became obsessed with filming each other having sex with anonymous women. Lots of anonymous women. Enough though public knowledge of Crane’s “hobby” could have trashed Crane’s career. Crane tried to quit the game. Shortly thereafter, he was murdered in a Flagstaff motel. Partner-in-porn Carpenter was acquitted, but remains the chief suspect.Once the sordid tale came out, Hollywood showed its usual compassion and good taste by making it into a movie: Auto Focus.