I never asked for any of this.

But, then I never really asked for anything. I just tried to make the days go by as fast as I could. Anything I could use to pass the time was implemented; gambling, wine, women, song... never would I have actually put any faith into the workings of these things, and yet before I knew it 20 years had passed, differentiated only by the caliber of the agents sent to recruit me.

I had burned every bridge I had, the Camarilla by my mistake during the first hours of my unlife, the Sabbat in the same incident. The independents would accept me back with open arms, but were not to my liking. Only the respect of their messengers kept them from meeting the same fate as the agents of the other families.

The years that had flashed by had been spent in a town in New Mexico. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, who would think to look for a vampire in the desert? The actual kindred, that's who...

I resided in a hotel, in the upper floors of a casino. I was seen as a reclusive millionaire with nocturnal waking hours, and acute photosensitivity. Hell, why not, I had cash to burn. My company back east took care of my expenses, in the good care of my lifelong friend, Sarah. A casino seemed like the opportune place to stay; plenty of drunken people off which to feed. This was also not a place where the present lingered for very long... people came to these places to forget, not to make long lasting memories. Which worked for me, the last thing I needed was for a picture of Aodh O'Kittman, fangs extended, gun in hand, to pop up during a therapy session with an executive who is dealing with his fear of success, who just happened to wander into the wrong craps table at the wrong time.

25 years earlier, I had been sired by a thirteenth generation Ravnos. The particular gypsy was under the watch of the Camarilla, as well as the warning not to sire. Either she had not gotten the message, or she just didn't care, and sired me, creating a 14th generation Ravnos, a Catiff. A thin blood. At the time of my siring, I was more human than vampire.

Here I was, a full quarter of a century later, 9th generation Ravnos, on the run from both sides of the coin, not even truly welcomed by the metal that held the two sides together. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, and ran my fingers through my long black hair, thankful that my sire had not been a Lasombra, whose reflections were that of blank space, which is to say, none. On my way to the door, I scooped up my cane from its place by the bed.

Seconds later I was in the elevator, trying to avoid eye contact with a young couple, with whom I had interrupted a fencing match of the tongues. As the ground floor dinged, I shot through the slowly opening doors, and strode up to the bar.

As per my schedule, I sat in my corner, and ordered a crown and coke. My glass hit the table moments later (I think the bartender anticipates me at this point, and pre-orders it prior to my detention), and I stared out at the crowd of people.

Here a short, portly couple, obviously on their 28th anniversary, sitting at coin slots, gasping and clapping their hands when they doubled their net worth of 75 cents. There a group of men, ties loosened faces red from a long night of drinking, most likely a bachelor party. Maybe the groom didn't see the older couple, or his inescapable fate, because he didn't run screaming back up to their rooms to hang himself with his cummerbund.

I continued to peoplewatch, as always ignoring my drink. Unless there is blood in it, I can't drink it. I've known a few kindred who had been blessed with an efficient digestive system, but the rest of us were unable even to drink water without becoming violently ill and regurgitating all the ingested nutrients.

As my eyes darted to each person in turn, I began to slowly relax the binds on my stolen discipline. On the day that I became banned from the Cammies, I came into possession of a powerful discipline, which was quite frankly more trouble than it was worth. As the power within me stirred, the emotions of each person began to leak into my mind. I felt the joy of the old lady, who had just hit another 25 cent jackpot. I tasted the pure happiness of who I could only assume was the groom. I washed these things away in the boredom of the waitress, of whom the glamour of the casino had long since faded.

As my eyes scanned over the bar, a strange tense demeanor filled my senses. My eyes flitted to the source, a heavy-set, black suited man, whose eyes, like mine, were scanning the crowd. He was looking for something, and he was wary of what he expected to find. He was here for me.

I rolled my eyes. When will they learn that no means no? I pondered to myself, again binding my Discipline. Aware of the many tricks the families and clans offered, I scrutinized the man. There were no extreme attachments, no third eyes, no pointed ears, which instantly ruled out the flamboyant clan Tzimisce. None of the many shadows in the vicinity were attracted to him, which barred the clan Lasombra. He seemed sane enough, which meant he was probably not a Malkavian. With these three ruled out, it was a fair bet that he was a Camarilla.

With this in mind I relaxed slowly, the Sabbat would attack on a whim, in the middle of this crowded room. The Cammies, however, honored the masquerade. He would be civil, though not necessarily cooperative. Eager to get this over with as soon as possible, I doodled on a napkin, drawing a small cross with a pointed bottom, the symbol of the Ravnos. With my artwork finished, I called over the bored waitress.

"Please hand this to the gentleman over there," I asked politely, handing her the napkin, and pointing her in the right direction. With a groan, she waddled over to the kindred, and handed it to him, then pointed to me. The dark man looked up at me, and I did a mock bow. He stood up and strode over to me, without even thanking the waitress I might add. With no introduction, he sat down in the seat across from me.

"Aodh O'Kittman?" he asked in a stony voice.

"Yes, I'm Aodh. Lighten up business man; I'm only violent to the people who are either very pushy or very rude." I replied, trying to inject a sense of calm into the moment.

"And of the 13 recruiters that were sent after you previously?" he asked sternly.

"They left my company in perfect health," I lied "why? Did one not make it back?"

"None of them did, as you well know" he said, the tendons in his neck tightening.

"How unfortunate," I responded "then they were unable to tell you that I declined their offer? Then I'll state it again, just for the sake of redundancy; I have no side on this particular war, as my lack of action before now should have clearly shown. I also have no wish to get tied up in political bullshit, either Camarilla or Sabbat."

"Unlike my brothers that you murdered," he spat with distain, "I come, not with an offer, but a warning; join the Camarilla, or perish. Our new prince will not suffer independent maggots under his regime." I was actually surprised.

"Wait... NEW prince? What happened to Alice?" I asked, honestly taken aback.

"She was killed at the hands of an independent, and now Lord Archer has taken her place." he said, with venom in his voice.

"Hence the new stance on the independent clans?" I inquired with a smirk. "Far be it from me to attempt to encompass the entirety of the Ravnos clan, but I can't see us joining as a whole, we are simply too far spread."

"This is not a political debate." he said "this is a final offer."

I pretended to think about it. I had never thought this day would come; Alice seemed unkillable. A Thremere of an unbelievable generation and amazing power, as well as the leader of the Camarilla, now dead. The fact that her body was that of a 9 year old girl was a simple facade, skin barely containing the purest flames. Archer was her... I'm not sure what his relationship was to her. He was forever 22 years of age, in body only, and her second in command. While she had a sense of humor, and of honor, Archer would take no chances. If he intended to destroy all the independents, he meant ALL the independents. I would not be spared. This offer was nothing but a thin lie. They wanted me to walk there, because it would be easier than carrying my corpse.

They should have known better than to try and trick a Ravnos.

"O.K." I announced finally, "I'll go with you. Can't avoid it any longer. Time to pick a side."