Bud "Tombstone" Ekins (NSFW - Adult Content)

[DM-Delfon]

Tombstone stands by the window of his shitty drive up hotel room. Outside a dozen motorcycles, and one of those old station wagons with the fake wood paneling on the sides take up all but one spot in the parking lot. The flickering sign by the road alternating between proclaiming the motel "Hotel Bass" and "Hot ass" depending on if the whole sign is lit or not. He had been watching out the window since the woman driving the station wagon tried four times to back in beside his bike. Lucky for her she decided to park across the lot instead. It would have been terrible for her children to see their mother killed right in front of them like that.

Now that the woman and her two children, a boy and a girl, have moved all their belongings into their own shitty hotel room, Tombstone turns back from the window to survey his kingdom for the night. The peeling wallpaper on every wall showing an ugly shade of pink paint below in a bunch of places. A patch of furry black mold in the corner near the ceiling, and signs of water damage to the drywall around the area. A light with two bare bulbs, one of which is burnt out so the room is not lit well. Tombstone smiles at that, ever since he was turned he has had a problem with bright illumination. The furnishings are sparse, a bed that squeaks at the slightest touch. A pair of end tables, one of which has a broken leg so it leans on the wall. A four drawer dresser with an old 38" television sitting on top of it. The T.V. is one of the old CRT tube ones that probably weighs in around 200lbs. The power button on the thing is broken off so you have to use a pen to turn it on and off.

Laying on the bed is the whole reason he was even here, Zahia Barnes. A 23 year old Algerian prostitute. She's 5'9" when she's standing instead of laying naked, sprawled across the bed. She's a stacked bottle blonde that likes it rough, and she's willing to let me feed. I once tore her pimps arm off, and beat him to death with it because he came in while we were getting it on and told me my time was up. Since then, I've taken on the role of her protector. She gives me some cash when I need it, and I get to kick the shit out of anyone that fucks with her, a fair trade in my opinion. Not to mention that I get to make use of her services whenever I want for free.

Tombstone is getting bored, he's 106 years old, and has been a vampire for 73 of those years. Turned when he was 33, back in 1942 during the height of WW2 combat. Until the recent assassination of the Prince, St. John's has been boring. Now that the Sabbat are moving in from Corner Brook, this place is looking like it's going to be all kinds of fun.

Pictures:
Bud "Tombstone" Ekins
Zahia Barnes

[DM-Delfon]

Tombstone gets dressed methodically, jeans and a black tee-shirt that reads, "I don't give a fuck." In bold white print. Next a black badge covered motercycle jacket, and black leather chaps. Leather gloves that almost come to the elbow, their knuckles thicker with the metal plate sewn inside. The plate itself moulded to his knuckles for comfort. His helmet is last, a full face helm where the visor looks like a skull. The stark white of the depicted bone contrasting with the pitch black of the helmet.

The biker packs his few possessions in a rut sack, and heads for his bike. The roar of the engine when he starts the beast could wake the dead. Apparently it can wake the living as well, judging by the child crying from that woman's room. Pulling into the deserted streets, Tombstone heads for the Dive Bar, aptly named since the place is a shit hole. "I feel like hurting somebody, and that place is filled with wannabe nazi assholes that love to fight." He says to nobody in particular.

Pulling into the alley beside the bar, Tombstone parks beside a pole where drunk idiots are unlikely to fuck with his bike. Throwing open the doors, he's greeted by blaring music and assholes yelling over it. Two guys are fighting in the corner, with a crowd gathered around. The bouncers haven't made a move to break it up. "I'm home." Tombstone shouts as he walks inside.

[DM-Delfon]

Tombstone pushes his way through the crowd toward what passes for a pool table in this shit hole. Most of the asshats that get pushed out of the way start to say something before backing down when they realize just how massive the leather clad biker is. Especially with the skull helmet glowing in the black light like some sort of disembodied head. One mouthy chick actually tells him, "Fuck off asshole." but Tombstone keeps walking, ignoring the bitch completely. Caving in her pretty little face wouldn't scratch the hurt somebody itch. It would be more like kicking a newborn puppy, satisfying noise, but too much mess.

Reaching the torn and faded green of the pool table, Tombstone sees the Neo Nazi groupies with their too tight miniskirts, and plunging necklines playing 8-ball. All the while the gang of racist assholes enjoy the free show of tits and ass. Tombstone finds the biggest one of the group, and punches him in the gut. Not causing much in the way of damage, but getting ahold of him for the second hit. Winding back for a dizzying right jab to the face, before pulling the guy up to headbutt him. The fucker had the gall to tilt his head down to take it in the skull instead of the face, and he managed to wriggle free of my grasp before the headbutt could connect.

Tombstone laughs out loud at himself. That couldn't have gone worse if had intended it to. Now a half dozen Neo Nazi assholes think they're going to gang up on him. The big guy with his fists, the short guy with a knife, the fat one with a broken bottle, and those three with pool cues. Hell even one of the groupies looks like she might try and get in on the action. Tombstone cracks his neck side to side, "This should be fun."

Rolls:
Initiative: 1d10+4=9
First Attack (gut punch): Dex 2 + Brawl 4 Vs DC 6 = 1,2,5,<6 botch>,6,9
Damage: Str 5 + 1 attack bonus Vs DC 6 = 1,1,3,4,<7 botch>, <9 botch>
No Damage
Second Attack (Celerity, right jab): Dex 2 + Brawl 4 Vs DC 6 = 1,<6 botch>,7,7,8,9
Damage: Str 5 + 3 attack bonus Vs DC 6 = 1,3,5,5,6,8,9,10->5
4 damage
Third Attack (Celerity, headbutt): Dex 2 + Brawl 4 Vs DC 6 = 1,3,3,<6 botch>,7,10->3
Damage: Str 5 + 1 attack bonus Vs DC 6 = 1,2,3,4,<8 botch>,9
1 damage

Neo Nazi Initiative: 1d10+3=9
Neo Nazi Soak Second Attack Vs DC 6: 3,5,10->9,10->3,10->5
Resisted All
Neo Nazi Soak Third Attack Vs DC 6: 1,3,6,<8 botch>,8
Resisted All
(O.O.C.: You have got to be shitting me.)

[DM-Delfon]

Tombstone feels a surge as he calls on the power of his blood to make him faster. Lunging forward he boxes the big guys ears to stun him, and gain control of his head. Then he drives his enemies head down, and brings his knee up. He feels that satisfying crunch of someone's face caving in. The next closest Nazi is the fat fuck sneaking up behind him with the broken bottle. Stepping backward past the clumsy thrust, Tombstone drives his elbow into the man's sternum. The sound of ribs snapping is audible even with a bike helmet on, and the noise of the shitty music in here. A pool cue snaps harmlessly over Tombstone's helmet, "If you scratched my helmet, I'll tear your fucking arms off" Tombstone shouts in the man's face. Two more pool cues and a chair twack painfully across Tombstone's back as he ignores half the combatants and stares down at the knife that has just bounced off his ribs.

Mechanics:
My Initiative: 1d10+4=11
Nazi Initiative: 1d10+3=5

My Attacks:
First Attack (Ear Box): Dex 2 + Brawl 4 Vs DC 6 = 2,3,3,7,7,8
Damage: Str 5 + 2 Attack Bonus Vs DC 6 = 1,2,2,2,4,7,8
2 Damage + 2 Potence = 4 Damage
Big Guy Soak First Attack Vs DC 6: 1,<6 Botch>,7,8,10->4
1 Damage (Hurt -1)

Second Attack (Knee to Face): Dex 2 + Brawl 4 Vs DC 6 = 2,3,6,8,8,10->5
Damage: Str 5 + 3 Attack Bonus Vs DC 6 = 2,2,4,4,4,6,7,8
3 Damage + 2 Potence = 5 Damage
Big Guy Soak Second Attack Vs DC 6: 1,1,5,<6 Botch>,<6 Botch>
5 Damage! (Incapacitated)

Third Attack (Elbow): Dex 2 + Brawl 4 Vs DC 6 = 3,3,4,8,9,9
Damage: Str 5 + 2 Attack Bonus Vs DC 6 = 3,4,7,7,9,9,10->1
5 damage + 2 Potence = 7 Damage
Fat One Soak Third Attack Vs DC 6: 1,5,<6 Botch>,8,9
5 Damage! (Incaoacitated)

Enemy Attacks:
Short Guy Attack (Knife) Vs DC 6:1,<7 Botch>,10->6,10->7
4 Damage!
Soak Knife Vs DC 6: 7,8,8,9,9
No Damage Taken

Pool Cue 1 Attack (Pool Cue) Vs DC 6:1,1,4,<9 Botch>
No Damage

Pool Cue 2 Attack (Pool Cue) Vs DC 6: 1,<9 Botch>,<9 Botch>,10->1
1 Damage!
Soak Pool Cue 2 Vs DC 6: 1,1,3,<6 Botch>,<7 Botch>
1 Damage Taken (Bruised)

Pool Cue 3 Attack (Pool Cue) Vs DC 6:1,2,<6 Botch>,10->9
2 Damage!
Soak Pool Cue 3 Vs DC 6: 1,1,1,4,<8 Botch>
2 Damage Taken (Injured -1)

Groupie Attack (Chair) Vs DC 6: 2,5,8,10->9
3 Damage!
Soak Groupie Damage Vs DC 6: 1,1,3,3,<9 Botch>
3 Damage Taken (Crippled -5)

Health Status:
[Bruised, Hurt -1, Injured -1, Wounded -2, Mauled -2, Crippled -5, Incapacitated, Torpor, Final Death]
[Hurt -1, Maimed -3, Incapacitated, Dead] Big Guy (fist)
[Hurt -1, Maimed -3, Incapacitated, Dead] Short Guy (knife)
[Hurt -1, Maimed -3, Incapacitated, Dead] Fat One (bottle)
[Hurt -1, Maimed -3, Incapacitated, Dead] Pool Cue 1
[Hurt -1, Maimed -3, Incapacitated, Dead] Pool Cue 2
[Hurt -1, Maimed -3, Incapacitated, Dead] Pool Cue 3
[Hurt -1, Maimed -3, Incapacitated, Dead] Groupie

[DM-Delfon]

This could be embarrassing, letting a bunch of Nazi assholes knock him out. Drawing on the power of his blood once more, Tombstone focuses on defense so he can heal. First he dodges to the left to avoid a knife stab, and then back to the right to avoid the point of the broken pool cue, but there are too many opponents. A pair of pool cues bounce harmlessly off the tall bikers leathers, and the chair hits without enough force to call damage. Maybe the groupie is getting tired.

Mechanics:
My Initiative: 1d10+4=11
Nazi Initiative: 1d10+3=8

Enemy Attacks:
Short Guy Attack (Knife) Vs DC 6: 3,3,4,7
1 Hit, Dodge Vs DC 6: 1,<6 Botch>,9
No Damage Taken

Pool Cue 1 Attack (Broken Pool Cue) Vs DC 6: 2,3,4,8
Dodge Vs DC 6: 3,6
No Damage

Pool Cue 2 Attack (Pool Cue) Vs DC 6: 6,7,8,9
Dodge Vs DC 6: 6
Damage: Str 2 + 2 Attack Bonus Vs DC 6 = 2,3,4,8
1 Damage!
Soak Pool Cue 2 Vs DC 6: 4,4,4,5,7
No Damage

Pool Cue 3 Attack (Pool Cue) Vs DC 6: 2,3,7,9
Damage Str 2 + 1 Attack Bonus: 1,3,4 
No Damage

Groupie Attack (Chair) Vs DC 6: 2,4,4,6
Damage Str 2 Vs DC 6: 1, <8 Botch>
No Damage

Health Status:
[Bruised, Hurt -1, Injured -1, Wounded -2, Mauled -2, Crippled -5, Incapacitated, Torpor, Final Death]
Incapacitated Big Guy
[Hurt -1, Maimed -3, Incapacitated, Dead] Short Guy (knife)
Incapacitated Fat One
[Hurt -1, Maimed -3, Incapacitated, Dead] Pool Cue 1
[Hurt -1, Maimed -3, Incapacitated, Dead] Pool Cue 2
[Hurt -1, Maimed -3, Incapacitated, Dead] Pool Cue 3
[Hurt -1, Maimed -3, Incapacitated, Dead] Groupie

[DM-Delfon]

Time is running out, and this fight is taking far too long. It is time to end things. Tombstone's blood rages, pouring his energy into speed, and ignoring his wounds. He leaps forward grabbing the knife from the short guy, and jamming the blade into his heart, killing him instantly. He pulls the blade free and slashes it across the throat of the Nazi with the broken pool cue. Hot blood sprays off the blade as it arcs, splattering the other combatants. The man grabs at his throat, dropping to his knees as his life blood flows freely through his fingers. A scream goes up as the people watching realize that they just witnessed a double murder, and everybody in the bar abruptly tries to leave at once. The two guys with the pool cues try to knock the knife from the angry biker's hand, but his grip is entirely too strong for that. The groupie holds the chair out in front of her like a shield as she backs up, terrified and desperately trying not to die.

Mechanics:
My Initiative: 1d10+4=9
Nazi Initiative: 1d10+3=5

First Attack (Disarm): Dex 2 + Melee 3 - Mauled (-2) Vs DC 6 = 6,7,8
Success!

Second Attack (Stab): Dex 2 + Melee 3 - Mauled (-2) Vs DC 6 = 4,10->5,10->8
Damage: Str+1 6 + 2 Attack Bonus Vs DC 6 = 2,4,6,6,6,6,6,10->10->2,
7 Damage + 2 Potence = 9 Damage (can't soak lethal)

Third Attack (Slash): Dex 2 + Melee 3 - Mauled (-2) Vs DC 6 = 2,4,6
Damage: Str+1 6 Vs DC 6 = 2,5,8,8,10->2,10->6
5 damage + 2 Potence = 7 Damage (Can't soak lethal)

Pool Cue 2 (Disarm) Need 5 successes: 4,4,8,9
Failure!

Pool Cue 3 (Disarm) Need 5 successes: 1,2,2,<9 Botch>
Failure!

Health Status:
[Bruised, Hurt -1, Injured -1, Wounded -2, Mauled -2, Crippled -5, Incapacitated, Torpor, Final Death]
Incapacitated Big Guy
Dead Short Guy
Incapacitated Fat One
Dead Pool Cue 1
[Hurt -1, Maimed -3, Incapacitated, Dead] Pool Cue 2
[Hurt -1, Maimed -3, Incapacitated, Dead] Pool Cue 3
[Hurt -1, Maimed -3, Incapacitated, Dead] Groupie

[DM-Delfon]

A smile hides behind the visor of his bike helmet as he speaks, the sound of the smile can be heard in his voice though,  "It's too late for you boys, you should have run while I was distracted by your friends." Lunging past one upraised pool cue, Tombstone slams his blade into the man's chest, puncturing a lung if the foamy blood he begins to cough up is any indication. Pulling the blade free, the big man turns as the other collapses into a coughing heap. Casually raising an arm to block the pool cue aimed at his head, he presses the blade into the second man's stomach slowly. He aims the blade upward to get behind his victim's ribs, watching his eyes bulge wider and wider as the blade slides deeper and deeper. Then he twists the blade, and rips it free. The woman in the tiny skirt drops her chair and turns to flee, but it's already far too late for that. Tombstone leaps at her, wrapping his arm around her neck, bringing her run to an abrupt stop. The huge biker raises his visor with the tip of the blood soaked knife, "You should have kept better friends." He inhales deeply, savoring the scent of fear pouring off of her. The vampire's lips brush against the throbbing vein in her neck, and he can already taste the sweet blood within. She stands there trembling in his grasp as his teeth puncture her flesh. She moans with pleasure as her life blood flows from her. She involuntarily pushes herself against him, aching from the sweet mix of pleasure and pain. She stands on tip-toe, pressing her neck into his fangs desperately trying to keep the raw pleasure of it going. Eventually he breaks off, licking her wound shut. "You get to live today little girl." He takes her purse, removing her identification, "Now I know who you are." He spins her around to face him, showing her the card in his hand, "If I ever see you even talking to another one of these Nazi fucks. I will rip the flesh from your bones while you lay there screaming." He let's her go, giving her a little push to get her started. He takes his fill from the wounded, and the fresh dead alike. Dropping the bloody blade on the ground he takes his leave of the empty bar. He goes to the beach to use one of those outdoor showers to get the blood off.

Mechanics:
My Initiative: 1d10+4=11
Nazi Initiative: 1d10+3=10

First Attack (Stab): Dex 2 + Melee 3 - Mauled (-2) Vs DC 6 = 2,6,10->7
Damage: Str+1 6 + 2 Attack Bonus Vs DC 6 = 3,6,7,7,8,8,10->4.10->2
7 Damage + 2 Potence = 9 Damage
(can't soak lethal)


Second Attack (Stab): Dex 2 + Melee 3 - Mauled (-2) Vs DC 6 = 2,2,10->3
Damage: Str+1 6 Vs DC 6 = 2,4,6,7,8,10->4
4 Damage + 2 Potence = 6 Damage (can't soak lethal)

Third Attack (Hold): Str 5 + Brawl 4 - Mauled (-2) Vs DC 6 = 3,5,7,8,9,9,10->7
Groupie Resist Vs DC 6 Need 6 successes: 2,5,9 Failure!

Degeneration Check: 2,8 Pass!

Health Status:
[Bruised, Hurt -1, Injured -1, Wounded -2, Mauled -2, Crippled -5, Incapacitated, Torpor, Final Death]
Incapacitated Big Guy
Dead Short Guy
Incapacitated Fat One
Dead Pool Cue 1
Dead Pool Cue 2
Dead Pool Cue 3
[Hurt -1, Maimed -3, Incapacitated, Dead] Groupie

[DM-Delfon]

Tombstone rode his bike around town for a couple hours, his need for violence satisfied for the moment. With the lightening of the sky being the first signs of the coming dawn, Tombstone makes his way back to his own apartment. The building itself is a fourteen story monstrosity of peeling paint and weather aged stone. Pulling up to the graffiti covered access panel, Tombstone waves the dongle hanging from his keys across the sensor. BEEP, click, tick-tick-tick. The underground garage door struggles upward, sounding like it could fail at any moment. In the five years he had been renting out a storage room in the second basement, the garage door has always sounded like that. Not once has it broken down to his knowledge.

Tombstone guides his bike through the parking lot that smells of stale exhaust and piss to his spot in the second basement. He parks it behind some broken crates, tarps it with a sheet of canvas that once belonged to a professional painter and heads home for the night. His apartment itself is a simple storage area that used to be a maintenance room. Basically a single twenty by ten space that houses all his worldly possessions. A mixture of artifacts that all seem out of their time. A wardrobe that contains a lot of leather, and denim, but also a WWII army uniform. The walls were lined with weapons on display, from blades, and other martial arts weapons to handguns and long guns. Many of these weapons had been purchased new, but now seem like relics from the past. Aside from weapons, the place also has a several collections of music from throughout history. A lot of which most people who look at Tombstone wouldn't believe that he possesses.

It had been a long night, and his wounds from the brawl - though healed - were still sore. Tossing himself onto his bed, Tombstone sleeps like the dead. No pun intended.

[DM-Delfon]

Tombstone sits bolt upright the moment the last rays of the sun are blocked out by the horizon. He strips off yesterday's clothing, tossing it onto the heap near the bed beside the laundry basket. He moves to his much abused training dummy. The thing is roughly man shaped, and is kevlar reinforced like a bulletproof vest. It's still been patched dozens of times. 'Maybe it's time to get another one' he thinks idly to himself as he begins his routine. Although he has no need to workout since his rebirth into the night, the process of combat practice always helps him drag the last of what passes for sleep from his body. When he was alive this process would leave him heaving, and covered with sweat. Not anymore, now it just left him exhilarated and ready to fight the night.

After his workout he checks his supply of blood bags. "Fuck, almost out again." He says out loud. Then he smiles, 'At least I get to see that fine piece of ass Elle.' He grabs some new jeans, a black tee-shirt with the NIN logo on it and his leather jacket and heads for the gate. Glancing back at his place, it just looks like stacks of junk and wreaked boxes. He tosses the painters tarp off his bike and fills the second basement with the roar of his engine.

[DM-Delfon]

Tombstone approaches the employee entrance to the blood bank, and raises his fist to bang on the door. Elle usually has loud music on, and sometimes she takes a bit to respond if she isn't paying attention. He sees her approach the counter through the small square window set in the door. Lab coat over a white button up shirt, vest and a black mini skirt over white stockings. 'Fuck me she's hot' He thinks to himself as she hefts the box containing his order up on to the counter. She waves him in as the door buzzes and the lock clicks.

The big biker enters the room, closing the security door behind him. He scans the room for any hidden threats before approaching the counter. He pulls off his helmet, smiles and says, "You're too efficient hot stuff. Makes it hard to get to know you." He inflects the word hard oddly. "It pays to know your clients." She says as she shrugs, and crosses her arms under her ample chest. His eyes are drawn down to the buttons straining to contain her ample chest. Bringing his eyes back to hers, he suggests, "I should take you out for a ride sometime. I know you would love the feel of something powerful between your legs." She raises an eyebrow, and says with a smirk, "I'm assuming you mean your motorcycle? Because honey I doubt you could handle me." Then she winks, and holds out her hand to collect the money owed.

Tombstone pulls out his bill clip from a zippered pocket on his leather vest. He smiles as he places the crisp fifty dollar bill into her hand. "The motorcycle to get your motor running." He says with a wink of his own. He leans on the counter so he's not looming over her, and so he can get close enough to catch a whiff of honey off of her. Maybe it was the scent that makes him say, "Oh honey, I could handle whatever you could throw at me." His words come from a place of confidence that can only be found in someone that has lived longer than he should. "When I'm done with you, you would be a sweaty hot mess that wouldn't be able to walk for hours." He glances at the clock on the wall before adding, "So when do you get off?" He tosses on a slick smile to keep her guessing whether he meant off work, or fucking him.

She takes the bill and puts it in the register, watching him as he leans in. There is a moment where her flight or fight response kicks in, and he drinks that moment in. She holds her ground, which is to her credit and only makes her more of a prize. "Oh really..." She says with a heavy pause as she leans into her fear, getting in close enough to whisper right into his ear. "Don't make promises you can't keep big boy, because I bite." He inhales the scent of her, while her words send tingles down his spine. "I always keep my promises." He whispers back. "Now who is making promises they can't keep?" She leans back so he can look her in the eyes again. Now there is a mischievous glint in those golden brown eyes. She thinks she's toying with him, and she's partly correct. She darts her tongue across her bottom lip, then asks in a purr, "You gonna buy me dinner first?" She says with a smirk as she turns away, heading for the door buzzer button. He doesn't even try to hide the fact that he was checking out her ass as she walked away. That mini skirt hugged her curves in such a distracting way. “Dinner eh? Do you want me to fetch an Italian?” He picks up his helmet and puts it on his head, then he flicks up the visor and says, “I don’t know how long this will last.” He grabs the blood bags you provided him, “You make me so damn hungry.” He smiles again, “Until next time hot stuff.” He heads for the door, calling out without looking back, “I’ll see you in my dreams.” As the door closes he hears her parting words, "Well you know where to find me big boy."

He makes his way to his bike, stashing the blood in his saddlebag. Tossing a leg over the big he starts it, then looks back at the camera and winks. 'If she's watching, I better give her a show.' He thinks to himself. He flicks down his visor, and revs his engine. Popping the clutch, he speeds off into the night.

[DM-Delfon]

‘First things first, gotta get these microwave dinners home.’ Tombstone thinks to himself as he casually rides home. His bike attracts enough attention, and he doesn’t want to have to change his plates again after beating down another cop.

After the food is stashed safely at home he heads back out into the night, this time to his spot. Not the dive bar, his lust for violence has be satisfied for the moment. To his spot just outside of town. All the biker gangs frequent it, and the Brujah have a safe house below.

Pulling into the lot he sees a woman partially surrounded by three bikers. At first Tombstone ignores the scene, until he sees that ass in tight leather. That can only be Elle from the blood bank. [i’What the fuck is she doing here?’[/i] Tombstone almost asks out loud before he catches himself. Roaring his bike in behind her, he flips up his visor and asks, “Is there a problem here babe?”

(Story continues HERE)