“My subjects look at me with love.
And I love each of them.
They’re family. My family. My kin. My blood.
Whatever binds us, ripples through us all. We might not all be shadow, but we are all human. I remind myself every night. I am a man. I always will be.”
~ Raphael de Sangallo, Blood Amaranthine ~
Gens is family and vampires are all-too-concerned with the bonds of family. They make and break bonds every night and suffer the consequences of breaking ties for decades – centuries only if their will is strong enough to survive pain that vast for longer than a few short human years. Gens is also the word used for the community, the tribe, the people that are the vampires. Yes, people. Humans regard the world that they inhabit as their own playpen with alien species infesting it, growing in the wilds, hunting and scavenging, foraging for things that they don’t rightfully own. This is the luxury of the apex predator. But humanity is mistaken. Because they do not own the food chain. They do not reside on its peak, glancing down at the lowly sub-species like flora and fauna in the garden they THEY tended and allowed to flourish. The cattle never know that they are being herded. The pig never knows when the slaughter will end its brief life. Humanity has no inkling of the real predator that casually hides itself from prying eyes so that the garden may flourish almost untended and the flowers may grow tall.
Shall we have done with the formalities? If you are reading this, you are human, curious, studious, intent on knowing more. Good for you. I will explain my species as best I can, and you will listen. That is why you came here after all, is it not?
Consider this, your resource.
Humans don’t like to be called human. You prefer “people:” similar words that don’t so closely refer to your biology but to you as a community, or a tribe that covers the globe and has created one radical massive entanglement of an empire. Similarly, “vampires” do not approve of the term. The word vampire is not only biologically false, but the connotations are so derogatory, we’d rather be called ticks. Or not. No, don’t call us that. Unless of course you’re the adventurous type, bungee jumping without the chord, leaping from planes, swimming with sharks.
“Gens” is the coined term for the Lords of Night of New Babylon and their fellow brethren; the simple Gens, the unintended Gens, and even the hunted Gens. But before we move into the politics of being a member of the Gens, it is important to study the physiology, the psychology, of the Gens.
What makes a vampire? Is it the movement of blood through our veins? The elongated teeth? The hunger or the indomitable strength and speed?
Where did vampires come from: what were the proverbial chicken and egg? Or who? What animates the heart, the flesh in stasis, and how?
Do the Gens feel? Is it just human hubris to be astounded at all that a monster can feel?
Gens, like humans, look for meaning in something other than themselves. What manner of deities do we serve in order to better understand ourselves and our existence?