CombatToad

Continued from part 1:

>Be me, gen 10 Ventrue and all around decent chap, Michael Hood.
>Wake up in my haven next to Prince Panhard's childer, Michaela the 2nd after an absolutely smashing Elysium
>Have the cellophane covered ritual bowl I had one of my cultists bleed into for breakfast
>Check to see if the Sabbat Venture Sheriff Quadir interrogated is still safely staked in my wine cellar
>Unlife is good
>Both I and my paramour are assaulted by are own shadows, because a Nephandus mage asked me for my vitae and I said no
>Bugger.png
>Didn't know he was Nephandus at the time
>Didn't think he was that petty
>My windows are exploding and my shadow is attempting to paralyze me
>Suspect the mage has a proxy nearby
>Call my hitman buddy, Mr. Woods
>Hangs up as soon as he hears ''mage''
>My door's disappeared
>Eventually figure out the bastard's used my own home CCTV as the proxy for his powers
>Put a .38 through my computer's hard drive
>Nothing
>Start shooting my cameras
>That did it
>Michaela is quite fond of the occult, as am I
>Decide to invite my cult to her haven. Everybody loves a good guest speaker. Plus I wanted to show off. Plus I was hungry
>Immediately bungle it and drain one of my adepts dry
>15 years of flawless feeding, gone
>My cults members had all gone on to positions of prestige and power. My teachings had genuinely elevated them
>I had resisted every temptation and build something good for a change
>I had watched Gabriel, who's drained body I held go from a shy and insecure teenager to a flourishing young man with the world at his feet
>Oh, right. I was a monster that bargained away his eternal soul
>Pic related:

>Michaela graciously helps me clean my mess
>I spend the next several hours tracking down the various members of my cult and removing the memory from their minds
>Get news from a private I - he's found out where the mage, one John Weiruss is currently residing in
>Overcome with cold, murderous rage
>Call Reginald, my Gangrel coterie mate, who's been descending into frenzy more and more lately.
>I suspect he knows that his humanity is on it's last legs
>I certainly do. I pitch the idea of hunting an evil mage to him on the grounds that if one is to descend into the wassail, the final frenzy, then it is better to do so in the company of the cruel and wicked as opposed to the innocent
>Shameless manipulation on my part, but he agrees
>We dig up and revive the Nosferatu spy we captured, staked and buried near my Long-Island ranch
>Manipulate him into helping me, lie that we're just hunting down a Tremere, promise him that he's released from the boon he clearly owes me for sparring his unlife.
>I know full well I am becoming the worst and most vicious version of myself once again.
>I care not
>A Nephandus is something supremely evil and destructive. To kill such a thing is righteous.
>Its redemption
>What are the lives of three bloodsuckers in comparison to that?

Exactly what is says on the tin, in essence.

I wanted a fresh install on a Surface Pro 7, it boots Mint no problem. The issue comes from the fact I can't actually proceed with installing the OS because neither the keyboard, touch functionality or mouse tracker work.

I'd plug in a mouse, however, since the bootable USB is taking up the only USB slot, that's a non starter.

Any ideas?

This is a condensed section of a Ancillae-heavy game our Storyteller is currently running in New York. The meta-plot is slightly different so bear with me. There are many more characters in our story of significant importance, but I will introduce them as they become relevant.

> Be me Michael Hood, 10th generation Ventrue, rightful 6th Viscount Hood.

>Be not me, my weirdo coterie-of-convenience:

>Salem Exter - Clan Toreador, former bootlegger, gunrunner, current speakeasy owner and aspiring kingmaker.

> Frank Woods, former US marine, neonate, (but a damn fine shot!), clan unknown. Very mercenary by nature. Current active Sheriff by circumstance, and not particularly happy about it

>Reginald - Clan Gangrel mariner (Anach, but keep your frenemies close and all that). Of noble heritage and good breeding, despite his Clan. He's an alright chap.

> Am a severely lapsed Catholic: traded my eternal soul in exchange for not dying of Duchenne’s disease at 22. (Devil take the stupid Frenchman who's name it bears).

> Don't really blame my sire, though. He was honorable enough to inform me of the nature of the deal, and I took it willingly. Rather a bum deal in hindsight, though.

> After decade upon decade of walking over the bodies of the guilty and innocent alike, I decide to at least make an effort to lead a less immoral unlife.

> Create a cult

> But It's a very nice cult. Since I have no sex drive and dumpster trucks worth of assets, both liquid and otherwise, I'm immune to most temptations such positions of power create

> Do feed from them, but my cult members are all children of American high society if not fixtures in said society themselves.

> A little bloodletting is practically five o'clock tea for these kids, hardly the worst they've seen at a party

> Give genuinely good financial and life advice, sprinkled with some esoteric are in essence, just some practical applied psychology after you strip out the veneer of mysticism

> Fifteen years without incident, my alumni do me proud every night

> Do such a good job one of my senior disciples Awakens

> ByJove.png

> Resist the overwhelming temptation to make him my bond-slave, and strangle this beautiful living triumph willpower and the human spirit in it's crib.

> Feeling like reverse Epstein.

> Learn there's a non-Lasombra aligned catholic priest in New York (one Father Leonard), who is not only aware of the Kindred, but has official Camarilla sanction to continue operating and drawing breath

> Too good to be true, but it's like a literal unicorn, I can't pass up an opportunity like this

> Have to overcome my supernatural bane towards the Holy Cross, but manage to actually get to confessional in the first time in about a century

> Lots of sins confessed

> Feel like a new man

> Go to Elysium, get the would-be Primogen of the Nosferatu executed for harboring his diablerist childer, like some sort of undead chief-prosecutor (he severely offended our current active sheriff)

>Mr. Exter puts on a spectacular performance of shock and disgust at the revelation (he originally pushed for this Nos to be appointed, but given Salem has no leverage and had potentially damning secrets, we talked him out of it)

>Mr. Woods puts a phosphorus round in the Nos and his childer

> I cap the night by running circles around some fledgeling bond-slaves of the Harpy>

> Just crank up the Presence and let rip the trusty old professor Dick Ballsenschaft routine and they let slip that their new ''adoptive'' sire murdered a prominent ancillae. It's fun messing with the kids.

> Covertly invite the childe of the Prince, Michaela the 2nd, to my haven so I can safely and privately fill her in on the political comings and goings of the Demense (her sire has essentially banned her from actively participating in NY politics) and drop hints her sire is a bondslave to the Harpy

> Don't tell her that explicitly. It would ruin the mood.

> Realize I'm not as above vulgar mortal concerns as I'd like.

> Seduce her (In my defense, we'd been flirting all night as cover and Michaela the 2nd is so ravishing, she'd make our namesake Archangel abandon the sword for the paintbrush)

> Silently thank the gift of Fortitude

> make a note for next confessional

> Wake up next evening.

> We're both assaulted by our own shadows, because I angered a Nephandus mage by refusing to give him a sample of my vitae a few nights ago

> Bugger, it was all going so well

This was VERY condensed and I'd love to give more context should there be any interest in me continuing the story. This is definitely a muli-parter, even if I'm heavily condensing it.