The Lamentations of Renny, Part Five: Is it not nice to be nice to the not-so-nice?
“Renny, I swear you’re too nice to be a Vampire.”
This charge was leveled at me earlier this evening by no less than Miss Witchypants after I turned her in for conspiring against the Prince.
Now, how you take a comment like that depends on your frame of mind, the manner and intent in which the comment was given and most importantly how you are approaching the mark. Witchypants meant it as an insult, that I was naïve or weak and she couldn't understand how I got to be a Vamp or having become one how I hadn't either starved to death or been dusted or disappeared due to my own lack of willpower.
I gave her hell for it during our little tête-à-tête, but what it really meant was that what she thought about me more or less what I wanted her to, So I took it as a good, if somewhat irritating sign.
Especially given the context she said it in. We were at that point headed back from her little trip to the Principal’s Office over the whole business with the Tremere keeping Boone and Evil Ed alive in vats until they decided it would be useful to pull them out.
She was spittin’ mad over what happened. According to her, none of what happened was her fault, including not informing the Prince about various bits of folks slowly regenerating in vats. Guess she just couldn’t remember the digits.
On top of that I ran into something you ordinarily only see in children. The deep-felt 100% belief that they would never do something that anyone with a lick of insight into human nature knows that they’re going to do the instant Opportunity presents itself. To wit, she honestly believed that if she had gotten to Assassimite’s heart before I did that she would not have either eaten it right then or tried to sneak it home to try to regrow the thing just for kicks. Her lack of self control doesn’t bode well for her long term survival. Perhaps I should have let her do it. She deserves having to live with the consequences of her immaturity.
Then again, what we deserve’s immaterial. Ain’t any of us likely to get a happy ending in the long run and hell, what would a happy ending be for a Vamp or ghoul anyway? Maybe someone could describe it to me so I can smile and wave at it as it passes by. The “long run” in this case is just too long.
Dang, look at me talking all depressing and crap. Hell, likely as not this whole thing explodes in our faces and we’re all dust by the morning. Better to concentrate on what’s in front of me than what’s down the line.
I guess I wouldn’t be so ranty about the whole business if Witchypants wasn’t playing right into clichés of Tremeres (and teenagers) while all the while being completely unable to entertain the idea that she was doing exactly that. In the end she succeeded in ticking me off even as the conversation pointed out that she was pretty much thinking exactly what I wanted her to. I got ticked enough to actually lose my cool (and not just pretend to), which I admit I shouldn't've let happen. It’s unprofessional.
After her little rant and by way of edification, I launched into the Fractured Fairy Tale that is Vamp history, starting with Cain (and you should have heard Witchypants give me lip about being Jewish and talkin’ about Cain, like he was an exclusively Christian figure). I got as far as about 1000 AD, before we got to our destination, so she didn’t get to the important and juicy bits about why folks hate the Tremere. I’ll save that for another car trip.
Return to Natchez By Night
Return to Timeline
