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One Last Birthday

Darren West; January 20, 2007


Darren West goes home tonight after Elysium and doesn't sleep. He stays up all day.

He feels confused and horrible:

How am I supposed to know what is right to do and what is wrong? Maybe I did the wrong thing with Richardson. Maybe he was right. Maybe I have no one else to trust. Maybe I will fall, horribly, just like Evans, just the same, no better. I have no one to trust now. I want to trust everyone, but I can't. I want to make everyone useful, but I can't. I want to win the battle of New York once and for all, but I don't think I can.

Lucas knows how I stand now. He will take action eventually.

Lucas will warn the Sabbat of my hostility.

The Primogen and officers are unsure of the purity of my intentions. They held me in such high regard and now... I'm not sure.

I'm not sure I can do this anymore.

Who am I? Darren West...


Darren West was a man of the media. The CEO of CNN's Washington D.C. headquarters. A human...

I'm not him anymore.

I'm a despicable thing. A vampire. A beast. I don't deserve anything. I can't rule this city.

I'm not Darren West. I'm not.

I'm just some bastard neonate. A neonate.

How did I have so much respect as a mortal? And now I'm just a mockery?

I've ruined the only thing I ever cared about: trust. I broke Richardson' trust tonight.

...but did he break mine? Probably. ...but I don't even know. I don't know anything. I can't trust anyone, can I. The Tremere? Of course not. They seem so earnest... but there is no way to tell. I can't believe that these people lie to face every day. Everyone full of lies. Where is the truth?

I used to find the truth. That used to be my job. Find the truth and publish it for the public to know. That was a noble goal, wasn't it?

What are my goals now? Do they have any meaning at all?

The Sabbat. The Camarilla. I don't understand anymore.

Tonight I used powers I never thought I would have as a mortal. My sheer presence commanded a whole room to bow their heads to me.

Does that have any meaning? Does anyone out there still respect me? Does anyone out there really believe in me, or are they just waiting to see me fail? Have I failed already?

I think I failed myself.

It was my birthday yesterday. Fifty-four year old. Fifty-four years on this earth... more years as a vampire than a human being. Dear God.

I'm nothing now. Bojan's dead. Roske probably will die too. Richardson's gone by my own command.

...and the Tremere smile at me. Bastards.

Lucas. Tremere. Sabbat. Hunters. Blood monster. Ukranian mob. Independents. Kuei-jin. Ericcson. Auberon. Helgiorimir.

There is so much and I'm not convinced anyone is trying to help me. Every step I make is only a chance to fail again... to make a mistake. I don't think anyone wants to see me succeed... not even Nicolai. He probably is full of it too. I don't know why he likes me, I feel lucky he does...

...but I will probably fail him too. Everyone is full of shit.

Everyone thinks I am some idealist. Bullshit. I just want to be someone. I want to be a name to reckoned with. I was once... now everyone ascribes my zealous to some idealism. I don't think that's it is it? Maybe it was once? I don't know even know who I am anymore.

'Darren West?'

I don't think so. I knew that man.

Influence Response:

Darren West feels like shit the next night.

You earn another dot of Emo.

ST Notes: ... but lose a dot of Dead Friends.

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