I started experimenting with how little soil I needed, going about finding the absolute minimum required for a good rest. It ended up only being a few handfuls, but the difference in rest was huge. I also worked to figure out my abilities, discovering I could now talk to Luna; she would always beg me for my blood like it was crack. I suppose there is a conflict between chaotic and orderly vampires; I must be prepared to defend myself. I trained Luna's attack commands and fight strategy. I returned fervently to my own gun and kendo training, mail-ordering several samurai swords of varying quality and building a cache of small firearms that I would fire at the range. I started testing my weaknesses; silver does nothing more, garlic smells, and I can wander into people's houses. These must all be myths. I cut myself and found that the wounds would heal if I concentrated, but I'd be hungrier for blood. I started taking Luna to dog fights to make money and to train her more, I could talk to her and command her strategy, and when I got home, my blood would heal her. She was faster, more challenging, and stronger than before, and she now loved and obeyed me like a god. My senses heightened, and I could hear and see more than when I was alive. I found I could mold my flesh like it was clay, but I could heal my molded flesh like other wounds if I concentrated and didn't mind how hungry it made me; that was the weirdest.
I also prepared my lies and myself to run if needed. I rented a few storage lockers at different edges of town using money cards bought with cash at many convenience stores, go bags, and soil in reserve disguised in dead potted plants where the pot looked like something old someone might have saved, hidden amongst furniture I had collected from tree lawns to conceal the storage so that it looked ordinary.
I felt ready as I ever would and started seeking out to find a calm vampire that I may introduce myself. With my dog in tow, a bullet/cut-proof vest under my best suit, small firearms hidden about my person, a concealed carry license in case authorities dare question, and a "wakizashi" Japanese short sword in a sheath under my armpit. I waited for a pale predator-eye person without a heartbeat several nights at the club I was at before, it was a few weeks before they came, but when they did, I walked up with as much confidence as I could project.
"Excuse me; my education was cut short. I know there are rules I must learn about how we must interact, but I have given up on the one that created me, returning to teach me more. Can you direct me to what organization there is and what I must do?" I turned to Luna. "Stop growling and sit, Luna," and turning back to the new vampire I had just met. "Sorry, she is quite protective but very obedient." Little did the strange vampire know how much training I did with Luna to ensure that my script was followed to a T, but she did it perfectly each time, from the first to this last time.
***
It took some years, but I had installed myself in the Camarilla, playing the game of politics well enough for a while as a "Catiff." Little had they learned, but I soon understood I was a Tzimisce. As I educated myself, I was careful not to ask about them more than any other Sabbat clan.
I learned of their "Masquerade" and started slowly making my replacement day physician look more and more like me using my skills at modeling flesh like clay, and had him marry me and take my last name. The legal setup was perfect; I could be him, he could be me as needed, and as a spouse, he had all the legal powers to do what I wanted for my identity during the day. I also made some alterations to myself, moving one fang into my pointer finger, painting it with metallic nail polish, pointing my nails, and painting them the same. With a fang on my finger sharpened with my bone craft, I had the perfect scalpel, one whose cut I could heal without stitches.
But apparently, I had risen too fast and my hunting ground too wide for a "Catiff." And since I did not have a chorus of voices objecting, without a clan to back me, I learned that it was being discussed that I should be "Volen-told" to move to Savana.
It probably wasn't the Anarch Malkavian group, a Bunch of nutters with no respect; I didn't like their "prank," and they didn't like my retaliatory "prank" either. But they have not much sway in the Camarilla.
It was probably the Camarilla Ventrue, Just because I am "Caitiff" and will not scrape and bow more than I am forced to.
The quick sale of my assets is not good; I was renting the building, I was over leverage to grow it, and now I am leaving to Savanna with just the basic medical equipment to make a set dressing for a medical facility on a sitcom. And still trying to sell the business name back in my original city.