Strange Ways to Spend Eternity

"So what other kinds of things are you working on?" you ask Clarence.

"The main thing right now, other than my art and that manuscript, is a series of papers about the various ways that changelings and vampires can interact. There's one on the effects of faerie blood on vampires -- did you know it varies by kith? -- and one on vampire dreamers, and one on the Banality levels of various types of vampires. I haven't got them done yet, but you can read them when I'm finished. In the meantime -- well, we can always talk about vampire web pages. Speaking of silly things to spend eternity doing. But of course, the Toreador page is the best. Beautiful design, as you'd expect, plus all sorts of stuff on creativity and love and all those things Toreadors like to say they believe in, but usually don't. It's even got an essay on why Apple Macintosh is the official computer of Clan Toreador."

"Hey!" Mick interrupts. "No way! The Malkavian Clanpage is the coolest! It rocks!"

"If you like juvenile humour and loud background patterns, maybe," sniffs Clarence.

Before they can get any further, a tall, striking woman with long dark hair comes over. "Hey, Clarence, I thought I'd find you down here. We were going to go catch the midnight show at the Bloor Cinema, remember -- Jesus! What did you do?!" She grabs the blood-soaked sketchbook. "Clarence!"

He looks embarrassed. "Ruined another sketchbook, I guess."

"He was mooning over Kieran and got all fucked up about it," adds Mick helpfully.

"Well, I know my blood isn't going to make you high as a kite like his, but a little loyalty would be appreciated!" Then her voice softens. "Clarence, you should call me when you're feeling bad. You know I'll drop everything and come look after you, no matter what I'm doing." She puts her arms around him. "That's what I'm here for. Remember?"

"I'm sorry!" He gives her a kiss, then looks over at you. "This is my girlfriend, Christie."

"Ghoul-friend," corrects Mick.

"Who the fuck asked you?" she snaps. "You are a bad influence, you know that? He didn't do things like this before he started hanging out with you!"

"Oh, yeah? How'd he get to be a vampire, then?"

"Well, not in the middle of a goddamn nightclub, he didn't! Anyway --" she turns to you, pointedly ignoring Mick. "He's right about one thing. You want to know about ghouls, ask me sometime. But not now. We have a movie to catch. Come on, honey." Clarence excuses himself and they leave together.

Mick giggles as he watches them leave, Christie walking determinedly ahead, towing Clarence behind her. "I love it. Only vampire in the world who gets himself henpecked by a ghoul! Talk about unclear on the concept. But of course, he's head over heels in love with her, so he lets her get away with murder. She never learned this obedience schtick that ghouls are supposed to do, you know? So she's just as insanely devoted to him as any ghoul every was to a vamp, but she bosses him around like crazy! Man, I would hate to be one of those puppies!"

"A ghoul?" you ask.

"No -- a Toreador!" He laughs. "Which reminds me -- we were talking about web pages, right? There's another Toreador page as well as the one that Clarence mentioned, but he says it's not as good. And don't believe him, by the way -- the Malkavian site is the coolest by far. The other Camarilla clans all have their own sites, too: the Brujah, the Gangrel (they actually have two, which is pretty weird considering they don't even like to hang out within 50 km of the nearest flush toilet, let alone play with computers), the Nosferatu (how they get computers to run down in the sewers, I'll never know), the Tremere, and of course the Ventrue -- though why they haven't got their own domain name like the Toreadors do, I'll never know. I mean, if anyone's got the bucks for those InterNIC fees, it's them!"

"The Sabbat have got theirs, too -- both the Lasombra (they've got two, actually, being the better organized of that lot), and the Tzimisce."

"The non-aligned clans are on the net too -- the Assamites have two, the Giovanni have one, the Setites have one (shower after you read it), and the Ravnos used to have one, complete with their own domain name, but last I checked it wasn't there anymore. Too bad. I kinda like those guys. Oh well, maybe it'll turn up again. In the mean time, there is one called Kumpania de Amria that's run by one particular little group of Ravnos in the States."

"And even some of the minor bloodlines and the Caitiffs and whatnot are getting in on the act. The Daughters of Cacophony and the Samedi both have sites, and so do the Anarchs. The Caitiffs have got two. And then there's a few catch-all pages like The Forgotten Shadows and Troll's MasqNet."

"And then there's Dark Moon, which is about 'Live Action Role-Playing' -- you know, those mortals who like to get together and pretend to be us? Cracks me up! Some nights I like to go infiltrate those things, and leave everyone wondering just who that new character was, and just how did he do that shit with the blood -- it looked really realistic!" He cackles. "It's a cool site, though. My favourite thing about it is the clan directory, which has all these tips on how to roleplay different clans -- very useful when I feel like impersonating something I'm not!"

"I've got a bone to pick with some of their comments about Malks, though." He leans across the table suddenly, causing you to draw back involuntarily. "Just who do they think they are, saying anyone who can get a coherent sentence out has a 'lame' derangement? Don't those losers realize that the scariest Malks are the ones who don't seem all that crazy on the surface? I mean, you don't know what the hell's going on in my head, do you? Or when I might suddenly do something totally weird just when you least expect it! Being consistently crazy is boring and predictable! Springing insanity on people when they least expect it is cool!"

"And besides," he adds. "The best thing about being able to carry on a semi-normal conversation with other clans is that wonderful moment when, after you've been talking with them for a while, it suddenly hits them that -- 'WAIT! I'm talking to a Malkavian!! And I understand him!!! What does that say about me??!!' I live for that moment, man!"

"Oh, yeah, and don't tell Clarence this, but I'm thinking of putting together a web site for the Lunatic Fringe -- a little secret society I know of that involves Malks and Ragabash werewolves, plus Pookas, Nuwishas, and just about anyone else who wants to fuck up the established paradigm of reality. And I'm working with none other than Clarence's little werewolf buddy Chip on this, 'cause he's one of those Ragabashes, and knows a lot about computers, too. But it'll probably be a while, 'cause the Sluagh are ahead of us in line."

"But -- weren't you just arguing a minute ago that werewolves were all pagan fundamentalist psychopaths and no one should have anything to do with them?"

"Yeah? And?"

"But--"

"Oh! I get it! Logic! You were expecting logic!!!" And with that he collapses into gales of hysterical laughter, loud enough to draw the attention of other club patrons even over the music. You back away nervously as he falls to the floor, kicking over tables and chairs on the way down, still shrieking "Logic! Logic! Logic!!!" through his manic laughter.

"Who would you like to talk to now?" asks your travelling companion.

• The woman in the ripped jacket and her friend
• Daria Lunardon
• Back to main page

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