The vampire is profoundly alienated from other living things, as we in modern times feel alienated from our own societies
~Malkavians~
"Ha! You demand order, expect hierarchy? Yes. It's there, milord. In the cracks, milord. But can you look on it without tearing out your eyes?"
Vampires are not easily frightened. They have already conquered death, and the weaknesses of their mortal selves are long gone. But the Cainites of Clan Malkavian worry even the boldest Brujah or most jaded Tzimisce, for wherever they walk, the stale stench of madness follows.
Most consider madness to be some sort of curse from God (or mark of the Devil), rather than an illness. In the case of the Malkavians, Cainite lore hints that they might be right. In the old days, or so some of the mad ones claim, Malkav was one of the favored childer of Caine, Caine sought wisdom in the dark corners of the world, and his progeny mimicked him. But it was neither Saulot, nor Brujah, nor even Cappadocius who eventually found the secrets that Caine sought. Malkav brought wisdom to his sire, and Caine blessed the childe and his line with the liberating gift of insanity.
Clan Malkavian seems to be the most incoherent bloodline of vampires. Gently deluded souls and slavering psychotics are found in equal numbers, and they are but a taste of the diversity characterizing Malkav's get. If not for the common trait of insanity, they would scarcely seem a clan at all. But the other clans have no choice but to acknowledge them. Malkavian oracles have been part of vampiric courts for generations, and even the Lasombra and Ventrue, if they seek information, will sup with the Malkavians – with a long spoon.
The Malkavian Antitribu are truly touched by chaos. The Creation Rites warp them beyond even "normal" Malkavian standards. However, thanks to the Vaulderie, the Sabbat can control them better than the Camarilla.
Malkavians of the Sabbat are very disturbing to other sect members. They know things about others in and out of the Sabbat that they should not know. Their leaders take great care in watching and manipulating them. No Malkavian Antitribu lead the Sabbat in times of peace, though many have been successful leaders in times of Jyhad. Their loyalty is typically Malkavian. They are fanatically loyal one day and completely disinterested the next. They cannot be depended on but, when they are willing to serve the Sabbat, they are extremely fierce in their effort.
Some question whether the Malkavian Antitribu are as crazy as they seem. They can be very sly and knowledgeable, and they move about in Camarilla-held territory more freely than any of the others within the Sabbat. If they were more dependable, they would be the best possible spies.
Nickname: Freaks
Appearance: Malkavians could be anyone, anywhere. For every tattered village idiot clutching at imaginary butterflies, there is a normal-seeming person whose insanity visibly manifests only at the most dangerous times. Few of them really seem to notice or care how they dress. Some appear almost normal, while others are so outlandish as to be immediately recognizable as Malkavians.
Background: The Madmen tend to Embrace those who are close to death, the hopelessly insane, or the unusually enlightened. Typically, they choose neonates who would be somehow "bettered" by induction into Clan Malkavian, or who show useful and progressive insight. They really have no recognizable preference for any particular type of individual.
Clan Disciplines: Auspex, Dementation, Obfuscate
Even other Damned fear the Malkavians. The cursed blood of their clan has polluted their minds, with the result that every last Malkavian across the world is incurably insane. What's worse, a Malkavian's madness can take nearly any form, from overpowering homicidal tendencies to near-catatonia. In many cases, there's no way to tell a Malkavian apart from the "sane" members of other clans. Those few whose psychoses are immediately obvious are among the most terrifying vampires to stalk the streets.
In the singing, shattered midnight
By the coral sands of time
Through the bloody gates of heaven
Past the sentries in my mind
Bring about the change so quickly
Bring about the terror's night
Bring about tbe blood of lovers
Bring about the smell of fright
I see you watching where I walk
Through the moonlit jasmine field
Listen closely as I talk
About the stars and their lovers past
Past fields of poppies burning bright
Into towers of Blackened Bone
Follow me, Bastard of Caine,
Come with me. I have no home.
As I drain your life's blood sweetly
As you sigh into my warm hands
As I suck your madness neatly
Streaming down like crimson bands
I dance the dance of the fool
And pray you find me mad
For if you lay hands upon the root
You'll know me, without illusion
And find me guilty of the truth
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