Part 9: Too Much, Too Much

Update 8 - Too Much, Too Much



Of those that voted, the vast majority wanted to get rid of Tempered Steele in favor of Elvis. Before we do that, I want to show off what happens if we would've granted TS's wish.



Hey, put that one right here, Doc. You gonna upgrade a machine, you should start with the best model.

We're going to make him even more robotic.


This is the only place to do it, and the need never arises. For some reason, the writers couldn't decide if they wanted to call the technology cybernetic or cybergenetic.



Of course.



Before making Elvis, these were the limbs we had in stock. It turns out that there are three eye implants we could have bought from Strongarm Tacktick.

Occular Implant - Increases Observation
Aural Implant - Increase Lockpick
Infrared Implant - Increases Observation

Very useless, especially considering that surgery costs both time and money.



Tempered Steele already has a cybernetic right leg and left arm, but they don't give you a warning if you accidently try to replace an already existing cybernetic limb with another one. This is probably a holdover from an early development period when they wanted to have different types of arms and legs, distinguished by varying quality.



They couldn't even stick to cybernetic in one conversation. As you can see, this is both very expensive and very time consuming. Is it worth it?




His endurance was increased by 15, and his fast-talk and bargaining decreased by 17...?

Whatever. Now we attach a limb to his right arm and see what happens.




Yeah, he leaves forever. He's not back at the Hard Metals, so I'm pretty sure he's disappeared from BloodNet entirely.



But that didn't happen in our BloodNet playthrough.



The one bad thing about Elvis is that he never says anything. I'm not sure if that has to do with the cyborg body, but it's never explained.



We'll give him a kevlar vest and laser rifle.

When we recruited Lash Givens, he came with an Insul Suit. I said it was useless, which it is in combat, but I forgot that it's a quest item. The funny part is that this is the only Insul Suit in the game, and it comes with an optional party member. No vendor sells one. You might be able to find it on some enemy, but I've never encountered it.



We're supposed to meet Mary in the only Cathedral in Manhattan. Hopefully this isn't an ambush - a priest asking a vampire to meet her in her cathedral reeks of some sort of trap.



There she is.



I haven't killed anyone in those camps. I'm a victim too.
I believe you. I've met others of your race, and I know you're not all evil, that some of you desperately seek release from your curse.
Then you can help me? Perform an exorcism or something? Vampire legends say that one of the things I need to cure myself is a priest to perform an exorcism. If you can help me escape this curse, I could stop the guy responsible for these vampires.

By legends, Stark obviously means Sampson's text file. The word choice is probably to ensure that the conversation makes sense if you haven't visited Sampson's well before this. Remember, this game is incredibly non-linear. It's probably the most non-linear game I've ever played.

Alone there is little I can do for you, and I can't leave St. Patrick's for any period of time, or there may not be a church here for me to return to.
What are you talking about?
The Church has enemies, Mr. Stark. For reasons I can only guess at, TransTechnicals sees the Church as its enemy and wants to close St. Patrick's forever. Brother Complicitus is the parish solicitor. He can fill you in on the details.

Let's, uh, go talk to, uh, him.

You heard the woman, Complicitus. Make like the mouthpiece you are and fill me in on this TransTech affair.

Whoa, settle down.



has a legal claim to the land the church is built upon. Here is the document if you care to look at it, but what it says essentially is that when the church assumed control of the land from its previous owner, it also assumed that owner's debts. One of the creditors was a W.T. Freeman, a Manhattan financier and benefactor of the church. Freeman never bothered to pursue collection of the money that the church owed him, but unfortunately, he never legally absolved the church of its, uh, fiduciary responsibility. Somehow, through over two hundred years of business mergers and acquisitions, TransTechnicals has come to own Freeman's assets, including the church's outstanding debts, which given two hundred years accumulated interest have become quite, uh, substantial. The Company is now moving to foreclose on St. Patrick's. We'll fight it of course, but, um, well, one doesn't get very far opposing TransTechnicals in court.

We're not given any item.

So, you got a big problem, but it's a big lawyer's problem. What can a guy with my talents do for you?
That would, um, be for Mother Mary to say.



A vampire rescuing a cathedral, huh? Kinda like the Corleone family saving the pope in that Godfather sim.
So, you are willing to help. I don't know where you should start. Perhaps with this Dougan fellow. These hateful letters always arrive signed "William Dougan, assistant to Walter McCalaster." Perhaps you could learn something from investigating him.

This unlocks Bill Dougan's office at TransTechnicals. You would only know that by traveling to TransTechnicals, because that was incredibly vague.



While we're in the area, let's check out that Hellfire Club we got an invitation to.



Are those guards holding guns or pipes?

Watch yourself with thse here wealthy folks. Rich and powerful start partying, people like us get hurt.



Yes we do.

Welcome to the Hellfire Club, sir. Enjoy your visit.




We finally lost 1% of our humanity. It also looks some some of our skills have improved by 1 or 2 points, seemingly randomly chosen. Let's get back to the club.


Let's get to mingling. We'll go left to right.



This could be interesting.



You don't like the war paint?

Cool down, lady. I don't even know what you're talking about.
Keep your voice down. I think you do know what I'm talking about. I think you know all too well. Ever been outed as a vampire in a major metropolitan paper? It ain't pretty. You're busted--in other words, you'll probably end up dead--unless you do what I ask. If you bring me the blood, I'll have my story and, in return, I'll spare you from being revealed.

Sounds like we should check out this inner sanctum. I'm not sure what to make of this threat. Stark is constantly on the move, and it's not like everyone he talks to can't see he's a vampire. Remember, we bought something called Instapigment, which hides our vampiric nature for 24 hours. It doesn't work with anyone in this club. Thanks BloodNet.


He's another Dracula reference, and also the owner of the biggest forehead in BloodNet. This reference isn't as utterly pointless as the other ones, if you know a little about Renfield's character in the novel.



I don't know what you're talking about.
You can't fool me, sir. Yeah, I've waited on a bunch of foolish wanna-be vampire actors, but I know the real thing when I see it. That isn't makeup, is it? Oh, wow! You don't know how long I've been waiting for this.

This is actually where Bethesda drew inspiration from for the Adoring Fan in Oblivion.

Hey, calm down, all right? Can't you keep it quiet?
O.K. I'll keep my voice down if you want me to. But that doesn't mean I'm not the happiest guy in the world!
What's it going to take to shut you up?

Bethesda should have taken inspiration from that line of dialogue.

Take me with you. Whatever it is you do, let me go along. Let me hang around. I'm real good at vampire things. I know all about what you guys can and can't do. All those rules. I'll look out for you. I've worked for a vampire before, and I was real good at it.
Then what are you doing here serving drinks?
Well, he wanted to move to the Midwest--said he liked the taste of a wholesome corn-fed farmgirl's blood better than some filthy whore off the street, and I'll give him that much. But I couldn't leave New York! Gawd! I love it here--the nightlife, the crowds . . . the rats. Come on. Will you at least think about using me? I'm a storehouse of information about the undead. I work for nothing. You won't have to feed me; I find my own meals. I'll even do your shirts. What d'ya say, huh? Please?

Let's see where this goes. I wish we could ghoul the little guy.

Yes.
Great! Listen, I don't think we should really talk here. I don't know where you're staying, but I've got a cool place downtown where you might want to crash. I'll get out of this place and meet you there. The address is 426 E. 28th St. I'll wait for you there . . . Master.

This could be another trap, but it does intrigue me. The next person we're going to talk to looks a little familiar.



That's the same portrait used for Reflex Symptoms of the Houston Matrix Rovers.



It's the only repeated portrait in the game, which makes me wonder why the couldn't be bothered to make one more portrait. Maybe it's the programmers fault. That wouldn't surprise anyone if it was the case.

Speaking of the Houston Matrix Rovers, we first heard about the Star Chamber from them. Rags Trammell droped a text dump on us about it.


Stark was wondering if we could make allies of Witte and Yatchisin. Witte is nowhere to be found in BloodNet. In fact, he's only ever referenced in the conversation with Rags. Yatchisin is here, so it's time to work that famous Stark charm.

Van Helsing? You know him? He sits on the Star Chamber, TransTechnical's secretive governing council? I didn't know he was that powerful.

Well, you actually did hear it from Rags Trammell. This is probably not Stark acting coy. It's probably a writing mistake.

Power is a precious commodity in this city, but Abraham has hardly cornered the market. I intend to find out precisely how powerful that old man is. He uses the Company's resources to pursue his own agenda, and that threatens my financial interests. If the old bastard thinks he can take me, he's in for the shock of his life.

It always baffles me why writers use economic terms when they don't bother to understand them. I know this is supposed to be an analogy, but it's a really shitty one.

If Van Helsing's on your shit list, maybe we could help one another.
I think not. You would be out of your league my boy. But, here. Take this. It's a security clearance badge that will allow you to enter the TransTechnicals building. Take it and do what you can. Maybe I'll be lucky, and you'll kill Abraham for me.

This isn't very believeable. Aside from the "No way I'm going to help you! But here, let me help you", lines of dialogue, you're telling me that a TransTech executive would give someone he just met clearance to fuck up his company's headquarters?


Now we have both levels of clearance to get into TransTech. It wasn't required to talk to Lenora Major, but it's helpful to avoid excessive fighting. For now, we still have more people to talk to.



Is this supposed to be another parody name?

My name's, uh, Cassidy . . . Eric Cassidy. I'm a guest of, uh, Abraham Van Helsing. He isn't here tonight, though. Out of the city on business.
You don't look like you need a chaperone, Mr. Cassidy, but . . . if you do, my name's Mara. Be careful who you talk to. The Hellfire Club hosts only the wealthiest and most powerful. They are used to getting what they desire. Take Braque Picaro for example. He's been alive practically forever and has connections everywhere. I certainly wouldn't want him for an enemy. Be particularly careful of the Inner Sanctum. They can be ruthless and dangerous in their pursuit of pleasure, and their vices grow ever more exotic.

Braque Picaro sounds like someone we should talk to. Next!


It's just as bad as Cafe Voltaire.



It's love at first sight. Stark finally found someone else with the fanatic urge to paint a side of their face red!

Whatever you say, lady. I'm just passing through.

Or not.

A guest? And from the looks of you, a guest who's no stranger to the streets. Perhaps you could . . . do me a service? My husband is rigidly conservative in his personal behavior, and he insists on imposing his stodgy morality on me as well, even in here if you can believe that. I'm looking for psilo blossom and a virtual viewer--my husband confiscated the last one I had. I'll pay 1,800 dollars if you bring them to me. We're usually here most nights. Be subtle. My husband will have you arrested if he catches you. I plan on having a little fun.

This quest isn't worth doing. The expense of buying what she wants is probably more than the reward.

The last is the woman in the red fedora.




It looked like an fedora on her sprite, but it sure doesn't here.

Then I must see my tailor.
Who are you kidding? You're street trash. You have no business being here. . . . On second thought, you may be able to find a little business. I'm in need of some sporting goods, shall we say. Perhaps in your street dealings, you could see to acquiring for me a small handgun of sorts?
Small game hunting?
Why, yes. Namely, my husband. Right now the weasel's probably in one of the parlors with his longtime partner in debauchery, Walter McCalaster, and God knows how many disease-ridden women. Walter's practically a kept man. It'd be the end of Walter's illustrious TransTech career if his wife found out. Well, Frank and he have made a fool of me for the last time. Have something with you now that you can sell me? Say . . . a 9mm? I've got 3,500 dollars.

I don't have a 9mm, but if I did I wouldn't help her. Interestingly, Bill Dougan, who Mary told us to investiage, is the assisstant to Walter McCalaster.

No.
Well, come back when you can see to acquiring one. We're at the club practically all the time.



There are four rooms to go into from here. The left-most one is empty, so we'll go into them left to right, starting from the middle.




This is a little odd. I thought this was supposed to be some sort of social gathering, and these people are minding their own business in a mostly empty room.



That would be these two. If they're bothering you, I can . . .
Don't be stupid. Either one of them could snap your neck before you could draw a weapon. Besides, they aren't bothering me. I'm the problem. We're a little family, Braque, Griff, and I, and I'm ripping us apart because I'm crazy, because I get these violent depressions and exhilarating highs. They both blame each other for my sickness. They're both so foul tempered, they will kill one another, I'm certain.

We heard about Braque in the last room.

Braque is . . . your father?
No. No of course not, dear. He's my lover. We met two years ago at an orbital casino. He is so experienced and passionate. He's so carefully monitored his nutrition and drug intake and has the money to pay for any transplant, implant, what have you, that he's much more vital than most men his age. About eighteen months ago, Braque and I met Griff at a Cayman Islands casino. He was hustling cards and doing it badly. Braque won over 50,000 dollars from him that night and then invited him back to our suite for an after midnight dinner. Braque noticed that Griff and I were attracted to one another and, to my surprise, wasn't angry. He actually encouraged us to follow through on it. The three of us have been together ever since. Like I said, family.
But now something's wrong?
Now they both blame each other for my madness. Braque blames Griff's Eros wares, and Griff blames the drugs that Braque favors for sensual enhancement. I just want it to stop. I just want to be sane again and have things with Braque and Griff be the way they were. I wish there was something someone could do.

Her madness must be pretty mild, considering we held a fairly complex conversation with her. Let's interrogate the other two.



I don't take risks . . . with cards.
Just as well. My luck's been miserable. I'd probably lose. That woman by the table. I love her. And she loves me--would love only me if not for that rotten old bastard on the other side of the room.
She's a looker, all right. What does the old guy have to do with anything?
He's destroying her. Day by day he slowly kills her with his poisons, but I'm not going to stand for it any longer. Let me explain. I met them almost a year ago at a casino on the Cayman Islands. I was making my living as a gambler and was in a run of bad luck when I played against Braque. When we finished playing, I owed him a fortune. For some reason he invited me to his suite for a late dinner. That's where I met Larisa. That's where we fell in love. Incredible as it seems the old guy actually asked me to travel with them. He didn't seem to care that Larisa split her nights between the two of us. I know this is strange, but the arrangement worked very well, until recently.
Trouble in paradise?
The old rogue is driving her mad with drugs. You can't tell by looking at him, but he's eighty-four years old. Yes. It's true. He uses over thirty different pills, gigavitamins, and dermal patches to monitor everything from his blood oxygen content to his rate of dendrite formation, all to keep him as vigorous as a man forty years his junior. He also uses drugs on himself and on Larisa as part of their lovemaking. It's destroying her mind! She veers from suicidal depression to wild mania. If something is not done soon, she will be lost in madness forever, all for the sake of an old man's lust. There must be something that can cure her, some miracle drug that can undo the damage Braque has caused with his toxins. I can tell by the cut of your clothes that you are not wealthy. If you could discover something that would cure Larisa's madness and return with it, I would pay you a large sum of money. If you get a cure, place it near her. Tell her that Griff hired you to give it to her. Maybe if I cure her, she'll leave the poisonous old snake, and the two of us can leave this filthy city.

Intersting how they're all vague on what this cure is, and her madness. Maybe Braque can shed some more light on this.



He looks like an even crazier Billy Corgan.

Hellfire Club pay you to ask questions?
Relax, friend. I am only making small talk. I've too many of my own problems to worry myself over you. Do you see that woman over there? That lovely woman?
Yeah, she's cute, but so are a lot of women. Why should I care?
Ah! I see you are a hard one, my friend. She has been my lover for over two years. I met her during a weekend on the orbital resort casino. I fell in love with her immediately, and, I believe, she did with me. We have been quite happy. That young man over there entered our lives almost one year ago. Larisa and I were gambling on the Cayman Islands. Griff thought he knew something about cards, but I easily broke him. I did, however, take an interest in him and invited him to dine with me that night. He. . . took an interest in Larisa and she in him. I did not oppose this since I thought she might enjoy a younger man's company. He has been with us ever since, an arrangement not without its complications, but rich in its rewards.
But now you got a problem?
Yes, I have a problem. He is driving her mad. He insists on employing Eros body suits and other computer-aided hardware to assist him in making love, as though machines had any place in what transpires between a man and a woman. Larisa has psych implants to help control a mild depressive condition. These Eros products affect the same areas of the brain as her implants and are creating catastrophic side effects. Her mood swings have become violent. Some days she is so low she cannot leave the bed, and she weeps to exhaustion. Other days, her energy is nearly psychotic. If she is not soon cured, our lives together are ended. If you could deliver to her the means to her cure and tell her that it is from me, then she would owe her happiness to me, and I could dismiss Griff from our arrangement without angering Larisa. I've known a lot of women in my life, but Larisa is different. I love her, Mr. Stark. Return her to me, and I will pay you well. We are here most evenings. If you find something or some combination of things that will cure her, place it near her and explain that it is from Braque.

We aren't given enough information to determine who's lying, and all we know about the cure is that it could be one or more things relating to Larisa's implants and depression. I hate this quest, but it turns out that Braque offers a very interesting reward. We'll keep this quest in our back pocket.



Here's the next room.


Unlike the previous parlor, these people aren't minding their own business.



Stark might have found someone he has something in common with.

The place really thrills you, does it?
Down to the tips of my toes. But, hey, it's the Hellfire Club. Like nowhere else in New York. People would give their eyeteeth for the right to stand in my shoes. But this place isn't for everybody. You're looking at the cream of the crop. This exclusive little get together next to us consists of some TransTech mogul and one of his lackeys sharing, shall we say, this year's Miss Congeniality winner.
Why are you even here, then?
Hey, a member of the Hellfire Club is a member for life. That is to say, as long as they want to live, know what I mean?

Stark feels to need to be hostile to everyone. We'll have to see if we can get into that exclusive affair, but first we'll talk to someone with fungus growing on his face.



We have, indeed.

Yes.
So she has gotten to you. Listen, whatever she told you, I'll pay you to keep your mouth shut. I've only got 1,000 dollars in my pocket. Take it to just ignore whatever she asked of you. God only knows what she wants. Besides, you look like you could use the money. I paid you so as never to have to see you again. Now go.

That's oka--



That's nice. Now let's interrupt those two on to the right.




There isn't a door, Walter.

Seems like more than a meeting, from what Frank here tells me.
Then that is Frank's own foolishness. If he wishes to behave in an inappropriate manner, I cannot condone it. I, well, I don't even know the man that well, really. There's nothing to see here. Why don't you just leave?

This might be important in the future. For now, we'll have to be satisfied with a peek at his blushing bride.



:cough: :cough: I think I left my keys in the next room. I must be going.



That guy in the chair looks like a mermaid.


That's the entrance to the inner sanctum. Maybe these two in the room can tell us how to get in.


This doesn't sound good. You're going to want to listen to the tindeck link.




Ransom Stark. What makes you think I'm new?
Well, for one, you don't know how to dress for the place. I made sure I wore exactly the right thing. I finally inherited my membership to the club from my dad. Seems like I've been wanting to get into the club forever.
That couldn't have been too long. What are you, Tabatha, about nineteen?
Eighteen, really.
You know, you have really sweet eyes.

I don't like where this is going.

Thanks. Why are you looking at me that way? Don't look into my eyes like that. My God, your eyes. It's almost as if--as if they can look right through me. My knees are getting weak . . . .
That's it, Tabatha. Don't fight it. Just let yourself go. Most girls find it easier that way.
--What! Most girls! That's it. I'm outta here. Whatever you're trying to do, you're not doing it to me. You almost had me going there for a second.



She's gone forever, and I don't blame her. Stark just tried to use his vampire powers to seduce an 18 year old girl, and who knows where that would have went. If any of you still liked him, this should kill any good feelings you harbored towards him. Stark is not a good person, and this has been demonstrated time and time again.



Long enough.
Then maybe you can help me. I don't have the right to get into the Inner Sanctum and it's killing me. There's nothing I could really do to earn my way in. You have to be asked by the council. The only way I'm going to get in is by paying off a guy like you. Think maybe you could give a guy a break and get him in?
You're kissing up to the wrong guy. I haven't even gotten in yet.
I know. I've been watching you. I don't even know what it takes to get in. But I'm asking you to help me when you can. I can pay you 1000 bucks. Listen, I gotta get in there. I know I'm Inner Sanctum material, I just haven't been asked by the council to join yet, and I thought I'd just sort of speed up the process.

What's needed to get into the inner sanctum? It's the lapel pin, and you'd only know about that through trial and error. There is no dialogue in the game that tells you, or even hints that the lapel pin is needed to get into the inner sanctum. Remember, we bought the lapel pin, which allows us access to this exclusive group, from a homeless kid at Central Park.



We have to equip it on one of our party members for the guard to recognize we have it.



We could also kill the guards to get in, but pretty much everyone on the inside would hate us if we did that. I find it amusing that this guard has a door knocker for a nose piercing, or whatever that is supposed to be.



Watch what you say in here. Inner Sanctum of the Hellfire Club's full of ruthless operators.


It always looks like a great hall in the game. Those items on the ground are bottles of blood. Before we pick them up, we're going to talk the woman on stage, rudely interrupting her dancing with her partner.



Only one owner.

...What?

And you're not a standard issue Hellfire Club member. Believe me, I can tell.
How's that?
You're not quite as soft as these guys. You're bad. I like it. Of course, if you want to really be bad, as wild as a member of the Inner Sanctum is supposed to be, you'll have to do what's expected of you.
Which is . . . ?
Drink this. It's real blood. Tatiana says it's not human blood, just animal blood, but I prefer to think of it as the real stuff. Think of it as the lifeblood of your enemies. That's what I do, and it really gets me going. Go ahead. It'll be hard to get used to at first, but then you'll get to really like it.
It may be easier than you think.


Go ahead and take them with you. You'll start to really look forward to the next time you can drink, just like a real vampire. Believe me, it's addictive.

She wouldn't like us very much if we took the other bottles of blood before talking to her, and she wouldn't have given us an extra one. What does a bottle of blood do? It resets our bloodlust to 0%. Any tension of bloodlust rising, Stark losing control and biting someone at random is completely quelled just be going here and picking up these bottles. Bloodlust will never be a problem again, since we've got 5 of them. Anyway, let's talk to Gwendolyn's dancing partner.



Consider a room filled with people. One is a cyberpunk. Say that the cyberpunk only decks for the people who do not deck for themselves. Consider if the cyberpunk does not deck for himself. If he does not deck for himself, then, by definition, he does. If he does deck for himself, then, by definition, he does not.
Je ne suis pas d'accord. It seems to me that, in any case, this notion of logic itself functions within a society of classes as a claim made by the oppressor class as a justification for it. In a classless society, I am not sure that we would still use this notion of logic.

Not me, jackson.
Do you serve him, then?
He doesn't pay, and I don't work for free. I hate cheap rich guys.
So, you are a lone stalker, and you have an ostentatious enemy. Do not try to deceive me. I can compel you to tell the truth. Not even your creator would be able to withstand my demands.
The truth is, I'm in a room full of blood-drinking lunatics, and why should I care what your demands are?
Because if you oppose this mad vampire, perhaps we can help one another. I am Bertrand Foucault, and I have lived in this city since June 14, 1801. Not since the autumn of 1836 has anyone suspected that a vampire stalks Manhattan's streets. That was the year I founded the Manhattan Hellfire Club as a front to mask whatever eccentricities someone might observe in me. As you can see, I occasionally hide in plain view by inspiring vampire masquerades such as this. My point is that I have fed on New Yorkers since the city was a few square miles of three story buildings, and I have rarely alerted the populace to my presence. This profligate you speak of has created dozens of offspring who terrorize the night. In a city of twenty million, he has actually created a vampire plague. His lack of restraint endangers all our kind.
Then join me in destroying him.
He doesn't need my help to die. I seek only to protect myself. The public panics and the streets are becoming unsafe for our kind. But there are other ways to satisfy the bloodlust. I have learned from one of our members who is a surgeon that the Nanotechnology Lab at TransTechnicals has devised a nanomachine assembler that synthesizes human blood cells. These machines could allow us to feed without killing, enabling us to remain in hiding until this reckless vampire is dead. I've arranged for a surgeon to inject the nanomachines into my blood stream. I told him I suffered from a rare anemia; my ghostly color easily convinced him this was so. All I need now are the nanotechs themselves. I offer you a deal: Obtain for me the blood-synthesizing nanotechnology. I'll share it with you, and together we can wait out the storm. Every evening I will be in the parlor located through the door at the other end of the entrance hall. When you have the nanomachines, bring them there, and we will seal our deal . . . in blood.

We would have unlocked the Nanotech Labs at TransTech from this conversation if we didn't already get it from Kimba West.



Gwendolyn disappears from BloodNet forever after talking to Bertrand. Good thing we talked to her before. We've unlocked another location within TransTech. We've got a lot to do, there. Let's talk to the woman on the steps.



until I inherited my membership, the farthest I'd ever gone is masquerade parties. Now Bertrand has taken me to the very edge. I just adore the man. And then there's you! Who did your look? I love it!
You probably don't know the guy.
Your skin looks so genuinely pallid. And the eyes, the teeth. You really have the look down. It's so over-the-top. I'm sure Bertrand just loves it. Well, I must dash, darling. Enjoy the festivities!

The next person is named Linda Blaue.




She's a little Malkavian.

And you know what vampires fear?
I live their fear, beautiful. I sacrificed my soul for love. When my lover Gi Sang--the man standing over there--became a vampire, I had to choose: should I join him in undeath or lose him forever? I tried to share it with him. I even weaved empathy chains into the dermal filament of a senstim suit so that I could live what he felt, but there was only one way could I share his fate with him. I had to have his teeth at my throat, his lips warm on my neck, and then my blood there. He howled and kicked as he did it, and I screamed more from fear than pain.
You let yourself be taken? But you said you feared it.
But now I hunt the night with Gi Sang, and I don't fear it, because I can reverse its effects. I can recapture my mortality, or at least begin to with this. I purchased it from a bent old woman in Chinatown right before I drained her empty. She said that the other half had been purchased by a man named Wyche Gibbon. It can cure us. I don't understand it much, but Gi Sang pretends to. He can tell you the why. Here, you can keep it. I already know its secrets.


Wyche Gibbon hangs out at the Muesum of Modern Art during the night, and you'd only know that by going there during the night and finding him. We should visit him after we're done here. This sounds like a faster way to cure vampirism. Gi Sang has more details, but we'll talk to the guy across from Linda, first.




There might be more to him that we can only find out later.

Before We talk to Gi Sang, there's a guy with his head in his hands on the floor.


It's time for a Ransom Stark Intervention.




The voice actor does an... interesting job. Stark's dialogue has one completely out-of-place line, here, and it's worth listening to.

Hey, ease up already.
Listen, don't tell me what to do. I'll tell you what I need to do. To go the distance, I'm going to need a breath of fresh air, if you know what I mean.
Breathers?
Yeah. You're not as dumb as you look. Have any on you?

We don't but let's see where this goes.

Yes.
What do you want for a dose?
For a sharp guy like yourself, 200 bucks.

I don't understand it at all, but there's a completely different voice actor for Stark's line, here. It's voiced by some guy from Brooklyn.

Well. Will you give them to me?

Yes. I will totally give you my imaginary breathers.

You lying snake. You're really trying my patience. When you have them, give them to me. Otherwise, I don't want to be seen talking to you.

This is probably something Stark would do, but we aren't going to.


Gi Sang should be able to shed some light on this amulet situation.

I spoke to Linda. She gave me this fragment of an amulet. Said you knew something about it. She says it . . . cures vampirism.



You're saying this doesn't have supernatural powers.
I'm saying I don't know much about it. I bought it from a young man with a taste for the occult. I tell you, I paid enough for it, ha, ha, ha. It had better do something. But enough of this. The hours stretch out before us. Let us take to the streets to hunt and feed.

That didn't tell us much. It probably doesn't cure vampirism, but it wouldn't hurt to go check out how Wyche plays into this.

Back at the entrance, that reporter has something to say.




If we say no, she says she's going to expose us. I'm not sure what it leads to. We're going to say yes.

Yes.
Great. I've got proof for my story. And you've just saved your milk-white hide. I'm out of here soon. Until then, we never met, understand?


We'll see her later, now that we've given her a bottle of blood. Now that we've spoken to Bertrand, the left-most room is occupied.



Bring me that blood-synthesizing nanotech, fool. The longer I am forced to haunt the streets, the greater my danger of being killed.

Bertrand is standing in the middle, while that doctor he mentioned is sitting on the couch.



He might have more to say later. Next time we'll visit the Museum again, and pay Renfield a visit.
Main Quests
Get the TransTech list of Deirdre's associates for Chuck (Electric Anarchy)
Meet Mother Mary at St. Patrick's Cathedral
Kill Abraham Van Helsing
Visit the Red Crosse Knights (175th Street)

Side Quests
Collect the other two pieces of Charley Flyer's mind
Penn Martinez (Houston Rovers) will help us with complex computer code
Hakim (Houston Rovers) needs a Praxis 3000
Coover Tristan (Kafka Conspiracy) wants us to non-violently steal a multi-channel transmitter from the Icon Robbers and bring it to him
Cyril Thorpe (Cafe Voltaire) wants us to put something he calls "the possession" next to his physical form
Zeus wants to throw down at NYU
Phracktle K. Oss (Electric Anarchy) will pay us 10,000 dollars to kill the TransTech security director
Kimba West (Central Park) wants a Fiber Optic Cable
Visit the Hellfire Club (at the Plaza Hotel)

Tit for Tat
Sis Konfigg (Doom Pilots) will trade a Level Four Cloak for the well address of the New York Bank
Phree Taught (Electric Anarchy) will trade sleeping gas for a dragon soulbox

WELLs
HOPE is Deirdre Tackett's personal WELL Held Tackett's journal
NOUN is Greenberger Phonomes (what's that?) WELL Held the Babel Code and a piece of Charley Flyer's mind
MEDIUM is Cyril Thorpe's personal WELL
TTHEAT supposedly holds TransTech records on "half the people in the city." We need a specific essence to get in
ZARATHUSTRA is Ludwig Sampson's personal WELL Held Sampson's text file
MAJOR is Lenora Major's personal WELL Lenora created a TransTech security imprint for us
MOZART is Notional Lab's WELL. It supposedly holds morph codes

New Locations Gained
The Plaza Hotel
Hard Metals
Strongarm Tacktick

Main Quests
Get the TransTech list of Deirdre's associates for Chuck (Electric Anarchy)
Investigate Bill Dougan for Mother Mary
Kill Abraham Van Helsing
Visit the Red Crosse Knights (175th Street)

Side Quests
Collect the other two pieces of Charley Flyer's mind
Penn Martinez (Houston Rovers) will help us with complex computer code
Hakim (Houston Rovers) needs a Praxis 3000
Coover Tristan (Kafka Conspiracy) wants us to non-violently steal a multi-channel transmitter from the Icon Robbers and bring it to him
Cyril Thorpe (Cafe Voltaire) wants us to put something he calls "the possession" next to his physical form
Zeus wants to throw down at NYU
Phracktle K. Oss (Electric Anarchy) will pay us $10,000 to kill the TransTech security director
Kimba West (Central Park) wants a Fiber Optic Cable
Renfield wants us to meet him at his apartment on East 28th street
Larisa Mayne (Plaza Hotel) needs a cure for her madness
Bertrand Foucault (Plaza Hotel) wants a blood-synthesizing nanotech
Visit Wyche Gibbons at the Museum of Modern Art

Tit for Tat
Sis Konfigg (Doom Pilots) will trade a Level Four Cloak for the well address of the New York Bank
Phree Taught (Electric Anarchy) will trade sleeping gas for a dragon soulbox

WELLs
HOPE is Deirdre Tackett's personal WELL Held Tackett's journal
NOUN is Greenberger Phonomes (what's that?) WELL Held the Babel Code and a piece of Charley Flyer's mind
MEDIUM is Cyril Thorpe's personal WELL
TTHEAT supposedly holds TransTech records on "half the people in the city." We need a specific essence to get in
ZARATHUSTRA is Ludwig Sampson's personal WELL Held Sampson's text file
MAJOR is Lenora Major's personal WELL Lenora created a TransTech security imprint for us
MOZART is Notional Lab's WELL. It supposedly holds morph codes

New Locations Gained
Bill Dougan (TransTechnicals)
Renfield