Past the turn of the millennium, more than ever, Los Angeles is a city spiralling out of control. Masses of mortals stream into the city depths hoping to acquire some small taste of the vast wealth flowing in and out of its electric channels. Crime runs rampant through the poorer neighborhoods as the smallest urban police force in the nation tries and fails to patrol the ever-expanding urban sprawl. Hollywood and the recording industry strain to satisfy the nation's need for the titillating and perverse while numbing any sense of individuality or initiative, a mere shadow of its Golden Era less than sixty years earlier. Freeways are packed to capacity beyond rush hour and into the night, spewing smog into the air that blankets the city skyline in brown. Politicians, criminal syndicates and corporations all vie for control of this conglomerate megalopolis.
Cainites from fresh embracees to disenchanted ancillae pour into the city, desperately seeking some place to live and let live in an undead world of petty politics and death-toll games, only to find within their first nights that the "let live" extends only so far as they are capable of enforcing it. Vampires pour more and more energy into the ideal of independence, and with every squeeze the city boils and rolls and becomes more and more unstable, oscillating this way and that. Wealth is polarized as the enclaves of Bel Air, Beverly Hills and Malibu retreat from the unmanageable terror of South Central and Compton, but it's all one city… linked by the City of Angels' legendary freeways, by the Internet, and by the threads of preternatural influence which spread through the it like a virus.
Los Angeles continues to grow unchecked, guided by a hundred different minds. Neither the Council nor Barony could control it any longer and the city, once scarcely one part, shattered into independent vampires living their own unlives without leadership or want for it. Individuals stake out single areas as protectorates and spend decades fighting for the right to call it home; Kindred, both alone and in groups, fight each other, fight their enemies, fight the city itself, aiming to control just enough to survive unchecked. The occasional would-be Prince who strides arrogantly beneath the palms and streetlights to declare Camarilla saction fails, as do the Sabbat incursions; warpacks and nomadic terrors who descend upon the city to find no leadership to topple and no anarchy left unmade.
In the city of Los Angeles, there is little left but the struggle for control. Each and every night is a solitary fight to exist in a sprawling world going mad.