At first glance, I’m enchanted by the neoclassical designs, art-deco lighting, and glistening surfaces of the pristine apartments in Vampire the Masquerade: Swansong. Against the backdrop of the nightscapes, they always look astonishingly immaculate and lush; you’ll find barely any speck of grime or dust on them. But these abodes of the super rich are occassionally punctured by the sight of wrecked furniture, pools of blood, and disembodied cadavers—all the unkempt aftermath of a gruesome murder. Even these scenes seemed deliberately placed, as if part of a perverse decor that the ultra-rich use to outfit their ornate spaces. After all, every broken limb, collapsed shelf, and discarded document serves a purpose: they’re simply information used to manoeuvre around the torrid web of Swansong’s most elite circles.
