No shit, not only there I was, but I set this up.
When I run LARPs, I always write pre-gens so I can set up plot hooks and conflicts. Most players ignore the packet and just run around playing supervillains with fangs, so when someone latches onto a story thread and runs with it, I appreciate them all the more.
This one is from ConCave 2000, back when that western Kentucky con was still hosted at the old Park Mammoth Hotel in all its creepy-ass glory. To set the stage, I need to give you the character histories from two particular PC packets…
Here’s the first…
Some would say that critics are those individuals who always wanted to be artists but are jealous of the people who actually have talent. Well, you’re just the opposite: an artist who’s bitterly jealous of everyone who’s never known what passion is. You were once an acclaimed young violinist, perhaps one of the best in the world; a mathematics graduate student; a champion chess player — until the night one of your fans drained you dry and made you a monster in the name of her so-called art. When you awoke from the Embrace, the only thing you could see was someone’s throat, the only thing you could smell was blood — until you sated your thirst and realized that the unmoving body in your arms was your fiancee’s.
Your sire met the sun with the broken neck of your violin through her heart. The prince of Phoenix spared your life out of some strange kindness, and granted you the option of exile to Denver. What the hell, it’s better than what your sire got. Now you write for the local newspaper and art magazines, providing scathing reviews of new shows and exhibits — when you’re sober enough to type, and when your fiancee’s ghost isn’t hanging over your shoulder asking you why you killed her…
… and the second…
You were one of those people that redefines the word “prodigy.” Before you finished college you’d already done a tour with the Bolshoi Ballet and won two national gymnastics championships, all while maintaining a 4.0 in pre-law. You were engaged to a wonderful man who was every bit your equal, and the two of you had your whole lives planned out — until the night one of your fans drained you dry and made you a monster in the name of her so-called art. When you awoke from the Embrace, the only thing you could see was someone’s throat, the only thing you could smell was blood — until you sated your thirst and realized that the unmoving body in your arms was your fiancee’s.
You think you went a little mad that night, but you’re not too certain. You remember flashes of living in culverts and basements, feeding on whatever feral animals happened across your path. You came back to yourself in the New Mexico desert about six months ago. An old Gangrel found you and brought you back from your degeneration, but you’re still hanging on the ragged edge of sanity and one good frenzy could be your last. You’ve killed at least a dozen people — that you can remember — and two other wandering vampires who tried to beat you down with a shovel, of all things. Last month, you decided to head for Denver based on some advice your former mentor once gave you. Maybe here you’ll find others of your kind and be able to bring yourself back to some semblance of humanity.
I then gave these two two long-term friends and quality roleplayers, MB and KJ. At the time, KJ was married to VB, who also was playing in this LARP (with a PC who had no particular plot connection to either of these).
Then I added another touch to each character packet: an envelope labeled, “open this when you see badge number [the badge number of the other PC].” Inside was an index card reading, “character [badge number of the other PC] is the ghost of your fiancee.”
The backstory, should it ever become relevant, was that a particularly bent Toreador with a thing for performance art had Embraced both of them and tampered with their memories so each one “remembered” killing the other. Then their sire set them both loose in a “let’s see what happens!” moment.
So this is how it went down…
Shortly after the game started on Friday night, when everyone had received (and either read or ignored) their character packets, MB and KJ were separately and somewhat-happily going about their business. They crossed paths in the parking lot. Looked at each other’s game badges. Pulled out envelopes, opened envelopes, read index cards. Did simultaneous double-takes.
They then proceeded to play out their reactions for three fucking hours without ever breaking character. Still in the parking lot. They had an audience. Other players were dropping out of play to watch the drama. At one point, it got so intense (KJ, who has never not brought her A-game, was actually crying) that someone took it as a for-reals thing and ran off to corner VB and tell him that his wife was cheating on him with MB. VB, knowing all parties involved, and knowing what kind of games I ran, found this hilarious.
The things we did when we were young and had energy.