Bloody Hell

[Adam Enders]

He heard the distinctive crack of a pool cue being broken over the back of someones skull, apparently the others were starting early this evening.He sighed and slipped his headphones on, letting the music wash over and cleanse his soul. He was meant to be a musician. He was born for it and he died because of it. His life had been robbed of him, his ambition gone and all because of hatred.

It turns out originally a Toreador had wanted to sire Adam, they wanted to sponsor his career and help his music reach new audiences. Unfortunately for Adam said Toreador happened to be hated by a particular Brujah, a vindictive Brujah who obtained permission from the Prince to sire Adam first just to spite the Toreador. To his credit this sire didn't immediately abandon him, he stuck around in those first few years showing him the ropes but Adam was secretly pleased when he eventually drifted off to piss someone else off. He'd left him a small house on the outskirts of town and contact with a couple of others from the clan.

This was his lot in life now, here he was stuck with a bunch of idiots who made even stereotypes cringe. His fingers strummed the guitar strings idly, making music the world would never hear now and jumped as he heard a table overturn somewhere on the floor below. "Fuck this..." he mumbled and slammed the guitar inside of its case, hauling it after him as he stormed from the house. He walked to burn off the irritation that had built in his veins and by the fog cleared he realized he was standing out the front of a local club, divine intervention much.