by Jacob Krarup (20 Mar 94)
This text-file can be found on the laptop belonging to the Caitiff Skavenger. He's a tall, scrawny looking punk somewhere in his early to mid twenties. If anyone wants his gaming stats, let me know <email@example.com>, though they're GURPS stats. Oh, one more thing, this entry does contain a few...four-letter words. I don't think it's excessive, but then again, my normal speech is probably worse than that...
What are you doing reading this? This is my private journal, noone is supposed to be reading it. I guess I must be dead then. Well...this is the story of my existence so far, though I certainly didn't write it for your sake. I wrote this to get a better perspective on who I am, hopefully that will help me to see where I' going.
I was born in Detroit in '69. My father was either an English skinhead named John or some hippie poseur poet who called himself Starsong. I hope it was the English guy 'cause I don't want to be 'the son of Starsong'. Shortly thereafter my dear ma met some Canadian bloke and off we went, to Toronto. I don't know how she convinced the Canadian government that she'd be an asset to the country, but in we got. I have dual citizenship so, as I used to say, I'm being opressed not by one but two governments. This time my mother's everlasting true love lasted for all of three years. Then we moved to Ottawa, then Toronto again, then Montreal and so on, ad infinitum. I usually made one or two friends each place we wen't.
In junior high, in Toronto, I made friends with the most popular girl in my entire grade, Sharon. It was pretty funny actually...it was about that time I got into the punk scene and I got my first mohawk back then too. So there I was, the jock-hating snotty punk kid, being bosom buddies with the girl the entire football team wanted to bed. Only later did I realize how many beatings I must have escaped in those years thanks to her. Last I heard she was a stripper in New York.
Then came grade ten and we moved to Ottawa again. I went to a new school. This is where I came to appreciate how lucky I had been having a friend the jocks liked. I didn't have that there so I got picked on pretty bad. I gave them back quite well though (thank god for steeltoed boots) so after a while they left me alone. I got into the 'scene', put out a 'zine called "Voluntary Submission", did way too much acid and booze and generally did far too many stupid punk things. Looking back I wonder why I didn't fall of a bridge and break my neck like that kid Joey. I did really well in school too. I think I was very much trying to say "fuck you you bastards you think I'm a fuckup,and maybe I am, but I can still beat you at your own fucking game" or something like that.
As I got older and wiser (hehe) I cut the drugs and started getting into activism. I'd discovered that in the 'scene' there were a lot of complete dumbfucks, but also some of the nicest most tolerant people I'd ever met. Most of the good people were into making the world a better place. So being the impressionable youth I was I joined them. I got involved in anti-racist stuff, animal rights, vegetarianism, feminism...the whole slew. It earned me a few beatings at the hands of Nazi skinheads, but occasionally we gave them a good whipping back. Not too often though, being pacifists and all. Well the pacifism bit varied a with time...I even learned some Wing Chun Kung Fu when I wasn't pacifist.
Oh yes...and a big event in the minds of teenage boys occured, I lost my virginity. It wans't that exciting really. It was with this punk chick who was maybe three years older than me. She'd had a nasty childhood and that somehow compelled her to sleep with a lot of people. That came to include me. In a way it was good -- when the jocks started talking about sex and harassing me I'd always reply with a 'fuck off'. Now, however, I could reply knowing that I wasn't missing out, thus I was more impervious to their taunts. On the other hand it did pop a few of my illusions. Unfortunately it didn't make all my sex related angst and teenage anxiety go away as I had hoped, but hey, c'est la vie.
Then I graduated. I'd gotten a scholarship to McGill. At the graduation ceremonies I had the most outrageous hair I could think of, I'd borrowed someone's make-up and just for that one special occasion I wore fishnets. The principal, Dickinson (and yes, we did make fun of his name) was not too pleased. He gave me my dipoma and I gave him the finger and spat on his shoes. Some people cheered and I felt incredibly rebellious.
University sucked the big one. I'll modify that... most of my classes sucked and most of the students were the same old middle-class jerks I'd met too many of already. Besides that life was pretty good. Montreal is a happening town so I got involved and a fair bit of rabble-rousing. I also fell in love. Her name was Aishah deMontigny. Her mother was Lebanese, her father Quebecois. She was in a couple of my history and philosphy classes. She was in a completely different social circle than me though, upper middle-class, and not the least bit punk, beautiful yes, punk no. We got along pretty well but that was it.
At the same time Dr. von Teutonburgwald took an interest in me. He was a mage. That blew me away. I always liked "the Lord of the Rings" and such, and several of my friends were varying shades of pagan, but this was just incredible. He said I had potential and started teaching me a few spells. He warned me not to use them in public, or else some nasty people from the Technocracy would come by and kill me. Dr. von T. taught me lots of stuff. He told me about the Traditions which were really powerful, but dismissed what he knew as 'hedge'-magic. He taught me about the vampires and werewolves too. I wasn't too impressed. Here I'd been worrying about how the government was oppresing the people and destroying the human spirit, and along comes this guy telling me that there are several more opressors out there, and that they are much nastier. It was rather depressing really.
The best part of being Dr. von T.'s 'apprentice' was that he was friends with Aishah's father, David deMontigny. He was an improtant vampire-hunter, of all things, though he taught at McGill part time. Neither Dr. von T. nor Dr. deMontigny particularly liked me, both being stodgy right-wingers, but that didn't matter because somehow Aishah fell in love with me too. I was in heaven. Despite learning that the world was actually worse than what my Nihillist/Anarchist/punk view previously had told me, I regained faith in the human race. Ah love...the poets have said it better than I, but I certainly felt it.
At around the time I graduated Aishah's father died in the Middle East. She was sure that some Assamites had done him in. Unfortunatley she decided to take up the family business. Apparently she'd been trained since she was very young. Fanatics do terrible things to their children. I helped her out a bit, my limited magical powers were very useful to her. Did I kill any vampires? I won't tell, just to retain a little mystique. I did learn about the Camarilla, the Clans and the Sabbat though. We were still very much in love, but her 'work' did get rather obstructive at times.
How to begin? Aishah had gotten on to some particularly powerful and nasty vampire. This one had recently come to Montreal and the local vampire community was in some stir about it. This, she reasoned, was the perfect time to strike. I don't want to get into too many details, it's rather painful, but we ended up chasing this one vampire to an abandoned warehouse. We had a few strongarms with us as well, regulars. Then suddenly we were surrounded by several vampires, none of which were from Montreal as far as we knew, and the carnage began. We managed to stake two vampires before we all died. Aishah was sucked dry by the guy we had followed. I almost killed myself when I saw that. That wasn't necessary though, as soon I too was sucked dry. I was frustrated and dying but, for the first time, hoped for a life beyond this...hoped to go to heaven or hell, but to meet Aishah there.
Then I awoke. I was sucking something nourishing, something I craved more than any drug I've ever taken. As I opened my eyes I saw somone flee, but I paid no attention, I was too hungry. Withot even thinking I fed off the blood of the dead men that a few minutes earlier had been my allies. I realized what had happend, but the full impact didn't strike me yet. I rushed over to Aishah and attempted to feed her my blood. I knew that that was how vampires propagated and I desperately wanted her with me. It was too late. I stayed for an hour, cleaning her corpse, and then I fled.
I went to Dr. von T.'s house. He gave me shelter and helped me for about a week, but made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with me after that. Aishah had mentioned me in her will, so I got some money from her, still do on a monthly basis (she knew that I don't get along with the capitalist concept of money). I got myself a van, fixed it up with toned windows, soundproofing, a bed etc. Then I left town. I went south, to the US, as far away form Montreal as possible.
Living on the road isn't that bad. I get to watch a lot of sunsets, and do a lot of thinking. I figure that it was a very Malkavian thing to turn a hunter into a vampire. I don't think I have any particular insanities though...beside a bit of a depression once in a while. I'm sure the vampire wasn't Nosferatu as I haven't mutated either. Beside that I have no clue who my 'sire' is, or what his (or her?) clan is. Nor do I care. When I come to some city I like I'll present myself to the prince and say "As is tradition, I recite the lineage of Skavenger, Caitiff of a Lost Generation, Childe of the Hunter deMontigny." and see what they say to that. I'm used to being an outcast.
My mother and drivers license knows me as Skye Stewart Lovelace