Replaying the venerable Vampire: The Masquerade: Bloodlines: Extremely Long Game Titles RPG made me wonder about which clan would I actually be? Vampire clans don’t map neatly to conventional divisions of our societies (thankfully), so it’s a question of philosophies.

I rejected most of the clans out of hand. I’m definitely not an upper class Ventrue, with all their silly games and hilarious snobbery; not a Tremere, for I don’t dabble in forbidden blood magic; not a Tzimisce for obvious reasons… No, eventually I narrowed it down to several clans that I’m exceedingly fond of.

No Gods, No Cammies

Given my anarchist leanings, left-wing politics, and strong convictions, after the initial narrowing down, I gravitated towards the Brujah clan, summed up by Troika Games as follows:

Largely composed of rebels, both with and without causes. Individualistic, outspoken and turbulent, Brujah hold social change near to their undead hearts, and the clan’s ranks contain some of the most violent of the Camarilla Kindred. Most other vampires perceive the Brujah as nothing more than punks and miscreants, but the truth of the matter is that genuine passion lies behind their polemics.

This struck a chord with me, as I’m very much interested in social change, justice, and I will argue passionately in its favor for hours. Few things are as rebellious as being transgender or motivate people to embrace change and reject the shitty status quo.

I honestly enjoyed my playthrough as a Brujah – apart from having an impeccable fashion sense, the cast of Brujah characters simply speaks to me. Damsel is amazing in her ferocity, Nines drops truth bombs with the same ease he dispatches Sabbat bastards, and Jack is… Well, Jack. If you finished the game, you know what I ‘m talking about.

But while I certainly share the Brujah righteousness and single-minded pursuit of justice, and my temper certainly flares up on occasion, I do not have the frenzy or proclivity for violence they are famous for. I fit the archetype to a degree, but at a certain point the similarities end.

It fits, but it’s not a perfect fit.

Malkav? Is that you knocking?

Here’s where the Malkavians come in. And yes, I picked Completely Batshit to more accurately reflect how I sometimes feel.

Troika describes them as such:

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.

They play a major role in Bloodlines, the first baron your deal with is, after all, the Daughter of Janus, Therese Voerman and her sister, Jeanette, while the death of the Malkavian primogen sets the stage for a major power play and is the second major challenge/set piece of the game. Neither fit the image of an archetypal madman about to be sent to a padded cell: Both of the Voerman sisters are exceedingly competent in their areas of focus (and work together perfectly well) and Alistair Grout is perfectly coherent, highly educated, and unfortunately a product of 19th century of approach to psychiatry.

But what people remember about Malkavians the most is the unique flair playing as one brings to the table. While the dialogue is functional for other clans, the options available for Malkies have a wonderful, delightful taste to them. You speak in poetry and prose, metaphor and metonymy, in abstract where the concrete is needed and concrete where you need to break someone’s face. Come and argue with traffic signs, let the anchor chat you up, and let yourself be casually insulted, because your supernatural insight puts you on another level!

In many ways, this is an advanced, special level of difficulty for the game as it obfuscates the meaning of many dialogue options.

The problem is, they were barely obfuscated for me. I realized something is off when I had no problem understanding them.

Worse, I speak that way. Not on occasion, not when I just get the idea in my head, it’s just roughly my usual manner of speaking: Theatrical, elaborate, making full use of the knowledge and vocabulary I have for… Fun! I was once told that I came across as arrogant until the person I spoke to realized it’s not arrogance – I simply use words that no sane person uses in casual conversation.

I scare my friends sometimes with the things I did, do, or plan to do. One of my closest friends, in fact, remarked that he’s glad that I exist, because whenever he thinks he’s too batshit, he remembers that I exist (it’s honestly one of the nicest compliments I received in my life) – and that was before I transitioned and the chains of normalcy weighing me down fell off.

I’ve always been like that, skirting the thin ice of social convention and good taste, wondering what lay beneath, what strange, unfathomable secrets lay below. What new and exciting experiences could I have – even as a child, when I wondered if or how a red-hot spoon felt when pressed on my tongue, I simply went and heated it up in a candle, then tested the hypothesis (it burned, FYI).

I bring this same energy to all of my endeavors, love beyond reason, work beyond sanity, reach for the sky and soar without a care in the world – though since collision with the earth would prevent me from learning and experiencing more, I also take care to ensure the lack of hinges doesn’t get in the way too much.

In short: I am a daughter of Malkav. It’s how I’ve always been, staring at the world in its unadulterated forms, grasping for knowledge to understand it, peeking behind the curtain and walking away forever changed. I don’t think that Malkavians are the crazy ones.

It’s the others who are.