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Camarilla Superbowl Incident
Topic Started: Feb 9 2011, 03:25 PM (44 Views)
Hassan
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Keen
[ *  *  * ]
This is actually pretty epic. Some good plot coming from the new AMST: Requiem. The tl;dr is that Josh was right and influence is where it's at. Also, I lol at the lame attempt at smearing the Invictus near the end.

"Every individual who is watching the Superbowl (over 100 million Americans, half again outside the country, and a significant number of vampires) witness the following event. It is broadcast live on FOX around the world:

As the kicker starts his first steps towards the football at the start of the first half, thousands and thousands of lightbulbs go off simultaneously. The kickoff itself is unremarkable, but as the offense trots out on the field, careful viewers can notice the first signs that something is wrong.

It starts as just one or two people, and players and sidelines are the last to know. It takes at least a minute for the announcers to realize, and thankfully, the cameramen aren’t much faster. Instead, you just see the awareness pass over the crowd… first a couple people are looking and pointing at some seats in the upper deck. After a moment, more people notice those people, and as that happens, more people notice whatever is going on in the cheap seats.

The announcers are confused, and then shocked… “There’s something in the sta… Oh my god, oh my god… get someone over there” is all Joe Buck manages to squeak out before its’ over. While the camera is close behind, you only see maybe 10 seconds of it, but for any vampire, it seems like an eternity. Why? Here’s what is caught on camera.

A blurred figure is standing in the middle of a pile clawed bodies… bloody and gored, and a young woman, maybe 20 years old in a tight-cut Dallas Cowboy jersey, held aloft in his arms. The figure tosses her off the deck, and while there’s no sound, you can see her face twisted into a terrified scream as she falls at least three stories. As the first bullet rips through the figure’s chest, you can see security behind it drawing their weapons and the entire crowd stampeding away in absolute panic. The figure jerks as three more bullets rip into it, and turns to advance on the cops. It makes it to one of them, clawing his face open; he screams and drops to his knees. By now the camera has zoomed in, so you can get a good view of cop as he cradles his mangled face in his hands. The figure, still a blur, is hit by a hail of bullets, including two that blow out the back of his skill. The cops quickly get in the way of the cameras and surround the bodies, but by now there’s a minor riot in the upper deck.

There’s a sudden black space interrupting the action, as your TV goes dead, and the station cuts to a commercial about some kind of snack chip and a dog."


After this, players were given a 24 hour period to submit responses in the form of downtimes, allies, retainers, etc. This is what happened:



In the future, everyone will be world famous for 15 minutes.

- Andy Warhol, Stockholm 1968

The vast majority of people reading this will not make it to the last paragraph, at least not without skipping through. Which is the big reason why you’re all okay.

The bottom line is that it takes a lot to wake a person up and realize what’s going on around them. The vast majority of people prefer to go about blissfully unaware of the terrible things that come out at night. It’s easier that way. If you dangle enough of an explanation in front of them, they’ll grab it. Which is the real tragedy of the thing. If there are blood-sucking monsters out there, the world would be a better place if we did something about it. A vampire frenzies in front of hundreds of millions of people… you would think that it gets people to do something about it. Predator or parasite, vampires are monsters, and if this story had a happy ending, it would end in some sort of year of fire and brimstone, and the end of kindred all together.

But this story doesn’t have a happy ending. At least not for the innocent mortals of the world of darkness.

The bottom line is that by the time the world wakes up Monday morning, there’s still a Masquerade. No one is talking about vampires. Hell, they’re not even talking about the supernatural. Stuff went down, to be sure, but by and large, people are chalking it up to some sort of conspiracy. Or hoax. Or criminal.

So congrats. You got away with it again.

But it was close.

* * * * *

There are two people to remember in all of this.

One is a girl named Amy Hotem. She was a 25 year old veterinary student in Milwaukee. She had graduated from U of W, Madison back in 2008 and was engaged to a guy name Eric. Eric was from Chicago, and a diehard Bears fan, and when the Packers played the Bears a couple weeks ago, they made a bet. They would both chip in 500 bucks, and whoever had their team going to Dallas would get a trip to the Superbowl. Amy won, so Eric stayed home in their apartment, watching the game on TV, while Amy had a balcony seat looking over the end zone.

The other is just a poor slob who was in the wrong place at the wrong time a little over a year ago, and died a pretty miserable death somewhere outside of Pittsburg. The details of his life are not that important… he was kind of a prick and never really did anything with his life, and when he died, he died crying for his mother. The important thing is that this jerk rose from the dead, did a dumb ass thing, and ended up dying again in a pretty spectacular manner.

* * * * *

In retrospect, it was bound to happen someday, but it’s not as bad as it could have been. Any lick who spent enough time watching the video could see what happened: some dumb vampire, probably a neonate, somehow got himself into the Superbowl, got overwhelmed by the flashing lights and blaring noise, and lost it. It could have been worse. People don’t think “vampire” when they see slashing claws and berserk violence. They think vampire when people turn into bats and bite the necks of teenage girls (and hey, there’s some truth to that). This is a mess, but it’s far from the most damning thing that could be caught on film.

Except everyone was watching. And the problem wasn’t that the entire mortal world was watching. One vampire with the right contacts and a few well-placed words can solve a lot of problems. A team of vampires, coordinating their efforts? They could make you believe you were a colonist on Mars. But you get a couple of dozen vampires, all trying to coordinate their efforts… then you have complications.

In the end, this was a clusterf*** of epic proportions. It wasn’t a disaster: that was averted. But for a while, it seemed like everything that could go wrong did. Bodies disappeared. Stories changed. Lies complicated lies. Everyone was stepping on each other’s toes, and the end result is that no one… no one… knows the full story of what went down, and what happened.

* * * * *

The lick, who we will call DA (for Dumb A**) was one of the worst vampires ever. He could catch rats and dogs (sometimes) but he was constantly f***ing up just about everything he ever did. He’d get kicked out of one city and make his way for another, a nomad not by choice but by necessity. Why he was ever embraced is kind of a comical story, if you like the sort of comedies where you should be crying or turning off the tv instead of laughing. But that’s another story.

This is actually a story of the one time he didn’t screw up too badly. DA was a huge Steeler’s fan, and he was so new to his requiem he still cared about dumb s*** like that. And he figured that since this was his first time as a vampire, he might as well spend the last bit of his mortal bank account, and make his way towards Dallas. Like a lot of licks, he never gave a second thought as to “was this a good idea?”

But his plan was good. He figured out how to get on the work crew getting the stadium ready on the night shift, and he figured out where he could meld with the stone during the day so he was already in the stadium, and he actually got to his seat with no problem. But he refused acknowledge he wasn’t human, that the rising panic in the back of his throat wasn’t a mortal feeling, that the Beast wasn’t something you could just ignore.

DA’s final f*** up was to pretend he wasn’t a vampire, and he lost it at the worst possible moment.

* * * * *

Amy texted her mom, Audrey, right as Christina Aguilera was screwing up the Star Spangle Banner. The text was “made it! cant believe im here love you”. Apart from a scream caught on video, this was pretty much the last thing she did.

* * * * *

The videos don’t hit youtube immediately. Or in a few minutes. It takes 30 minutes, and in that time there’s a metric ton of technical snags that accompany anything that happens on the internet with the word “superbowl.” Youtube actually shuts down for three minutes at one point, as it seems the video have triggered a mess of vandalism and hackers for some reason (at one point, searching for “superbowl” gets you pornography, followed by ToS violation notifications). All over the darker parts of the internet, the words “cover up!” go out, and are quick to point fingers at something nefarious on the part of NFL owners (there is the labor issue, after all).

* * * * *

There must have been a man on the ground at the beginning of the mess… someone made it to the stadium and was working the Masquerade issue right away. He was a cop, that much you can be sure off. He might have been working with someone, because there had to be more than one man involved. Because after the initial panic, a couple of critical tasks were taken care of.

First, there was someone with the cops, maybe an inside man, that ran interference for the scene. Some cop had lost half his face, and really, all any of the first responders could remember was that there was a lot of blood and a bunch of injuries. And a lot of confusion, and the cops started making mistakes. The scene was not closed off. Evidence was lost. Hell, bodies were lost.

A handful of people swear there were dead people by the balcony, including the crazed madman who had started cutting up the crowd. But witnesses couldn’t agree, and their memories were hazy… and there weren’t any bodies. At least there weren’t fifteen minutes later, when the NFL officials finally made to the scene. While it looked like a slasher film for a moment, all the bodies were immediately snatched away, and no one knows where they ended up.

Well, except for one body, but she wasn’t dead at the time. Amy Hotem just had several compound fractures and internal bleeding when she was hauled off on the stretcher, and she wouldn’t die until about an hour after the game ended.

* * * * *

Twitter explodes for at least 15 minutes about the lameness of this new movie stunt. Seems like this is for a new movie coming out. Or maybe Fringe. No one is sure which, but it’s generally agreed that the special effects could have been better. A new tag comes into being, @sbviralfail. Sample texts include “whatever is this for cloverfield part 2? liked this movie better when it was called jaws”, “dude you think they could have at least focused the camera”, “They should have called up the spiderman peeps on broadway they know how to drop an actor and make it look real oh wait”.

* * * * *

For the folks watching at home, they see the commercial with the dog and the chips, and then the Eminem animated commercial, and one with Ozzie and some 12 year old singer or something. They go on a while, at least ten minutes. What happens in those ten minutes is mystery to most people, but they might be the most critical ten minutes any vampire has endured in years.

When they end, no one knows what is going on, and the announcers are awkwardly trying to play legitimate newscasters. The cameras cut to what seems to be a triage scene, with plenty of workers all over, although its not clear what they’re doing. However, there’s just as many shots of the players on the field, with the Steelers ready to start their drive. In just a few minutes, the reporters are saying there was a domestic dispute, and a fall, and reports of a cop being hit in the face. Shortly afterwards, it’s announce the game will continue.

* * * * *

As the event seems more and more like a hoax, the Dallas PD is flooded by crank calls claiming to be the mother/brother/boyfriend/alien lover of “Screaming Mimi”, the lady supposedly thrown from the balcony. Apparently her high pitched cry is kind of funny, and becoming more heavily reblogged on tumblr and other sites than any other part of the stunt. Of course, this does mean that when Audrey Hotem does call, frantically trying to find out if her daughter Amy is okay, the cops promptly hang up on her.

* * * * *

The game starts, and something inexplicable happens. People at the stadium stop talking about it. They just talk about the game. It’s not something you pick up on right away, but it’s like a miracle for anyone worried about the Masquerade. Of course, God sends miracles… you’re not sure who did this one.

* * * * *

For about a quarter, this one looks like you’re going to pull it off. Then, you start seeing the problems. It’s not that people didn’t show up or do anything, but just the opposite. Stories start coming in from all over. Everyone’s working to cover it up, and no one seems to be talking to each other. All of a sudden the domestic dispute story seems to break apart. You don’t hear about it unless you’re watching a news channel, but they’re talking about the violent and mentally ill man who killed two people at the Superbowl. Entertainment shows can’t stop talking about the brilliant marketing campaign. Rumors that she jumped start showing up on the internet.

Most elders can’t explain it, and the ancilla are struggling to keep up with it. But to a neonate, what happened is clear. The world is smaller now. You run a news story in Topeka, Kansas, it can get picked up in Riverside, California. You blog something in Australia, and someone posts it to their facebook in Canada. Everyone is paying attention, everyone is moderately panicked, and everyone is trying to do something.

The local response is not enough. It can’t keep this buttoned down. And when it explodes, it looks like it will explode big.


* * * * *

When the videos do hit, they hit everywhere. And all of them were different. Most of them were of the back of people’s heads and include general screams. It seems like only a couple of people had vantage points that actually caught anything, and the videos all depict the same events as previously described… only some of them weren’t blurred out. Some of them were crystal clear, professional quality, and depicted a CGI werewolf on the rampage. One of them included another camera crew. One has a very obvious fishman animated over it. Others are less blurry than others. A couple had Sarah Palin or Barack Obama’s face superimposed. One had Justin Bieber. All in all, this seems to be quickly turning memetic. The “Superbowl Shuffle Off the Balcony” music video already has half a million hits and consists of little more than clips of the 85 Chicago Bears’ song punctuated by the distinctive scream made by one of the victims.

* * * * *

An infamous church out of Topeka almost immediately releases a statement that this was an act of god, meant to punish mankind for allowing homosexuals to continue to exist. They discuss that this is a holy vengeance of God, and warns them of the terror of God’s hate, and that they must repent their evil ways. Immediate outcry rises from the small number of people who still listen to them… no one listens to their hateful “theology” anyways.

* * * * *

At the end of the first quarter, the NFL releases a press statement about the domestic dispute that has resulted in the assault of a police officer and a woman falling from one of the balconies. The police officer is stable, the woman is in critical condition.

* * * * *

If one looks at Deviant Art, one will see something telling… there’s already a couple of sketches of the event, but none of them are tagged for vampires. After all, vampires sparkle in the sunlight, or pout like Brad Pitt, or speak with Transylvanian accents, or screw Sookie Stackhouse. They’re sexy and sleek and cooler than you. In fact they’re just about everything except some crazed loser who gets himself shot to death at football game.

* * * * *

The story breaks on an entertainment channel that Gordon Bianci and Alan Obermeyer have teamed up to produce “Night Horrors” (working title), an art house horror movie with a big-time studio budget. It apparently is an attempt to horror in the same way that Borat does comedy, and the Super Bowl was it’s first publicity stunt. Responses to initial inquiries will be met with claims that the “event” was completely choreographed and no one was harmed.

* * * * *

At the same time, several groups on the internet start blaming the government for a “stealth suit experiment” that was caught on tape, and that the witnesses were suddenly executed because they saw the suit fail. Or something like that. No one believes those guys anyways.

* * * * *

News outlets break the story of the Krueger Pub killer has struck again. Months ago there was an attack by a psychopathic copycat killer at a St Louis bar. The man was described as having clawed gloves and he seemed to be in some kind of killing frenzy. The man killed and injured several people before getting away. Apparently he took his act to the Super Bowl where he went on another killing spree in front of thousands of spectators and on national tv. This time he did not get away, he was killed by brave policemen who answered the call even though hysterical witnesses claimed it was some kind of beast.

* * * * *

Shortly before the half, the NFL releases a press statement correcting their previous statement, saying the events are uncertain and being fully investigated.

* * * * *

The first cracks in the story are revealed, and the true danger emerges. It’s one thing when people see something can’t explain, and get fed a story. But when they believe that story is a lie… then it’s a cover-up.

It’s hard to identify, but the most dangerous scare came just after the announcement, when the internet began to get flooded with “Superbowl conspiracy” messages. Not just on internet message boards, but on major social networking sites, the kind that are almost impossible to bring down. Many individuals find their accounts hacked and posts deleted, but this tactic quickly turns dangerous… it seems to validate the hoax. Truth be told, the very effort to protect the Masquerade now endangers it as the story has grown to convoluted to be easily believed.

The floodgates never break, however, because counter-conspiracies are quickly introduced, and the herd is quick to blame its own government for the events. In particular, a series of well-timed blogs (which appear unrelated, but worked exceptionally well in concert) gain traction in the public debate, and divert the attention towards possible government motives for interfering with social media.

* * * * *

Talk radio in the Midwest has Dr David West testify that no known hand held weapon of any variety could create wounds so egregious, even if the person delivering the blow were ridiculously strong. The callers are mix of cranks that swear that PCP could totally let someone do that, and one caller vividly recalls a story about middle eastern assassins from his tour in Iraq displaying supernatural strength. Each story gets weirder, and culminates in the accusation that this is obviously the work of the folks who faked the moon landing.

* * * * *

Around halftime, male celebutante and famous magician Jimmy Hood-Wink manages to find the mike and talk about the “hoax” perpetrated at the Superbowl and tell people what kind of bulls*** it is. He starts talking about viral marketing, and how a magician would use the misdirection of the cameras to make a staged scene look like a major incident. In New York, a local entertainer fields similar questions on a call-in show, and explains numerous possible scenarios about what’s going. It all sounds weird, and no one knows what to make of it, but the magicians are just so charming that you can’t help but feel like there’s a rational explanation for all of this.

* * * * *

An impromptu press conference is held, discussing the event, and answering questions, mostly about logistics (such as the safety of the VIPs in attendance). This isn’t shown on Fox, and gets remarkably low ratings, but clips do start circulating virally. Of note is the fact that the original story… of a domestic dispute ending with a woman falling from the balcony… is not mentioned at all.

* * * * *

Shortly after the news conference, the first full report goes out over the AP wire, discussing the events surrounding a mentally-ill man under the effects of PCP who killed three and injured half a dozen more at the Superbowl. The report isn’t the most widely read, but it's the first one to get all the details correct. There are some other elements the story introduces, such as the killer reciting the words to William Ernest Henley poem “Invictus” while he rampaged, that remain unconfirmed.

* * * * *

Although they opened their doors in the immediate aftermath of the incident, there weren’t enough casualties from the even to warrant the help of the Sigeric Gard Foundation. Their help went mostly unnoticed in the flurry of activity, and despite calling in numerous workers away from Superbowl parties and their family time, none of the dozen casualties were taken to any of their clinics. The workers (mostly volunteer) instead spent most of their night handling overflow from the county drunk tank, which was easily overwhelmed with partiers. Volunteering is far less glamorous when your smock is covered in vomit instead of blood.

* * * * *

Despite the flurry of activity regarding the event, the game itself gets good at about the same time. With the Steelers threaten to tie the score, or even come back, very few people around the world can even remember the girl falling to her death. Most people dismiss the slew of injuries the Packers suffer as bad luck… after all, it happened to them all season.

* * * * *

At some point in the second half, things come under control. The story of the killer is promoted and propagates through the wires. The viral videos seem to settle into a predictable haze of reblogs of the same video, over and over, which offers a decent view of the knife-wielding maniac. He stabs a police officer in the eye, stabs two other people, and pushes a woman off the balcony before being gunned down. Reports of drunk driving accidents at local bars filter in and are ignored, and no one notices the mangled bodies bear the names of ticket holders to the big game. Next of kin are notified. Hospitalized victims quickly receive large settlements.

Systematically, the major risks are identified, neutralized, and concealed. It took several hours, but a massive machine of mortal influence moved into the area, and quickly took control of the situation.

* * * * *

At some point during the third quarter, the NFL releases a statement that the criminal who caused the disturbance died in an altercation with the police.

* * * * *

Long into the night, there would be a continual battle against rumors popping up on the internet about the cover-up in Dallas. No one seems sure what they were covering up, however, a concerted effort, seemingly by several parties, managed to keep these rumors from mainstreaming. However, you can’t stop information from getting out, and for weeks, people will find these rumors, connected to all sorts of conspiracy theories.

* * * * *

The media covers the story in all the post game, although the discussions of Green Bay’s perseverance and their MVP’s emergence dominate the discussion. There seems, however, to be a steady undercurrent, cutting through the enthusiasm of the players, and suggesting there’s people on camera (or at least near them) that know that something went on. They might not be talking about, but the “Krueger killer” story is just short enough on details that everyone who watches it has a twinge of doubt.

* * * * *

The next day, a universal outcry against the producer and director of Night Horror will force them to stop filming in the Dallas/Fort Worth area. Although publicists offer profuse apologies for capitalizing on the tragedy, they continue with their marketing campaign for avant garde horror. After all, no press is bad press.

* * * * *

In the aftermath of the mess, some jerk sends two hundred “Team Jacob” t-shirts to the Dallas Police Department. They’re signed for by the desk sergeant, who throws them in the trash. The entire department is up in arms about the mess last night. No one knows what happened, but Jerry lost an eye and no one is sure how. The brass is on the warpath, and they broke out internal affairs, which means everyone has shut the hell up overnight. But everyone knows what they saw, and even if they’re not talking about it, they know that something got covered up. They might not know why, or by who, but they know the truth is out there. But anyone with a nickel’s worth of sense knows that when the powers that be want a story to die, that story will die, and only a damned fool would go and say anything.

* * * * *

By the time the sun rises the next morning, the story seems set in stone. Everyone knows about the psycho killer, and it’s literally yesterday’s news. The story hit the press overseas, where it was codified, stripped of the more sensational elements, and several doubts about its veracity were expressed. This actually made the story stronger: its commonly assumed that the NFL purposely confused the issue in the immediate aftermath to avoid postponing or cancelling the game. Stories of the impeding lockout dominate the sports media, as more reputable agencies go back to covering Egypt. The herd continues to go about their lives, although they are tense and jittery bunch. They saw the predator in their midst, even if they refuse to acknowledge it. It’s as if this one time, the herd decided that ignorance was bliss, and believed the lie.

Maybe this is their habit. Maybe it’s a lucky break. No way to be sure.

* * * * *

The Fort Worth Police Department finally notify Audrey Hotem of her daughter’s death late the next day. She’ll spend the rest of the day in tears, as Eric goes to bring his fiancé home one last time. Her name isn’t mentioned except in the Wisconsin papers, and there its buried four or five pages in.
Hassan the Moor
Hassan ibn Aysu bint Tierzibijan ibn Ishmael ben Al-Amr ibn Alexia bint Mohammed ibn Hassan
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Laraqua
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That is actually pretty cool. And precisely the kind of thing that would, and should, happen on occasion. I mean, as if vampires don't frenzy in a world of mobile phones? As if First Changes don't happen in stressful public places?
OOC: Shannon O'Farrell
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