Detroit turned out to be heaven, but it also turned out to be hell.
That really says it all for the Kindred who’ve been around for a while. Time was Detroit was a utopia of Kindred. Plenty of food, places to hole up for a night. Now, well, now we have the quarantine. And of course we’ve got the overfeeding. To many predators, not enough prey. What are you going to do? Leave the city and you’ll get staked and run up a streetlamp to wait for the dawn. Stay in the city and you’ll see Kindred doing things they wouldn’t have dreamed of even 15 years ago. This city has changed. We put in the Carthians back in ‘38 and declared Detroit a Kindred Free State. We’re all equals and what not. Now the Prince has gone all Napoleon on that. (That’s Animal Farm, not France and yes, I do still read.) The point is Detroit isn’t what it used to be. We’re packed in and starving while the Court lives in splendor. Never short on vitae or some free space to hunt. But no one’s really talking about taking on the Prince. Not for the little guy and not for their self. Just us little folks I suppose, not that we can do anything. Gerontocracy is the Damned’s lot. To many elders, to many mouths, nowhere near enough Kine. At this point I’d try the fabled Cake.
Kindred are always hungry for something. Blood or power. Its about control. Its a question as old as humanity; who rules you? How can one be free? On any given night who is in charge, you? the Baron? the Prince? your own Beast? Can you control others? What about yourself? Secrets and treachery are part of your existence now. And you have to live with the choices you make, even when you don’t like any of your options. At the end of the night – when you go to ground to hide from the sun – who will emerge the next night. Man or Monster? Sunlight is the best disinfectant they say. That’s not an option for someone with your condition, how will you cope?