Cyberpunk Meets Thousand Year Old Vampire (Session 5, Cold Presence)
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On to turn 2 in Thousand Year Old Vampire. From prompt 1 I roll 9 - 3 = 6, so, I move forward to prompt 7, “Your body manifests some trait related to the vampire that created you. How do you become more like them? Create a Skill that reflects this.”
What traits did Eli have? Hmmm...
Skill gained: Cold Presence
***
Queens, New York, Autumn, 1988
Jeff just killed Jimmy. His boss. His friend. The man who gave him a job when he was flat broke and down on his ass. And yet there he stood, not panicked at all, calm, just staring down blankly.
The woman lay crumpled by the jukebox. Her perfume still hung in the air, mixing with the copper in her blood and the lemony tang of kitchen cleaner. Jeff could smell everything. He could name it all. And he felt… cold, numb. The same cold Eli wore like a second skin.
***
Night City, 2077 – Neon Kiss
From his office above the main dancefloor, Jeffery watched the crowd move like harmonic circuitry, rhythmic, erratic, beautiful. Bodies packed tight, limbs glowing with aftermarket chrome, drifting between light and shadow.
He scanned his video feeds and security overlays streaming across multiple wall displays - two VIP booths flagged for suspected corpo mules, one private room in use by the club's ripperdoc and a local joytoy, blood cocktail revenue up 14% over the last five nights...
He pinged security to reposition near the second floor stairwell, too many young dolls stacking up near the glass balcony.
An aromatic rush of air from a ceiling vent signaled that the night was winding down - cleaning nanofoam, ozone, spilled bloodfruit vodka, and a faint burn from someone’s overheating neural mod. Jeffery exhaled slowly, processing everything without blinking.
On screen, a bouncer subdued a potential cyberpsycho before things escalated. Jeffery didn’t move. He just watched. Still. Measured. Sharp.
The calm wasn’t a choice anymore. It had been built into him, that night in New York when his sire left him alone, standing in a pool of blood, laughed, and called it a gift.
Jeffery touched the scars on his neck again, then read an incoming message from the club's bar manager:
Inventory below threshold for Type-O synth blend
New dancer trial scheduled for 03:00
A fixer named Oscar requests a meeting, again
Jeffery approved the blood reorder. Denied the meeting. And locked eyes with the new dancer who was leaning against the bar, staring up at him as if she could see through the one-way glass.
The club throbbed beneath him, beautiful and alive.
And Jeffery stayed completely still.