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The Times
The Kindred Chronicle
Key Figures
THE MONSTER OF EALING
Last night, several people reported the sighting of a "screaming red monster" in a quiet neighbourhood of Ealing. After a power shortage in the area, a building caught fire. It was then when, what was described as a "man shaped, footless creature" emerged from the flames, leaping, running, and screaming. One woman has told our reporters that the man had "teeth like a wolf, and the face of the devil". Police officers are still trying to get to the bottom of this; neither the power shortage nor the fire have still been explained. A spokesperson from Scotland Yard has stated that the "so called monster" might be a wounded person, escaping the fire.

TRAGEDY IN TOOLEY STREET
The police has found the bodies of three TFL workers in the construction site at Tooley Street. One of their colleagues raised the alarms last week, when the three workers didn't attend their shifts. The bodies of the men have been found in a deep hole, uncovered by the refurbishment works that are taking place in the area. According to the Police, the bodies were horribly mutilated, which has led to the wildest speculations. The names of the three workers are being kept anonymous, following the wishes of their families.

HOROSCOPE
MARCH 8 - PISCES
You are used to making sacrifices, to prioritising the happiness of others before yours. Even though that is a noble attitude, there are times in life where the only healthy alternative is to embrace your own selfishness and allow yourself some enjoyment. Reserve one hour per day to do something you really like. Treat yourself! Your colour for this month is blue.
Echoes from the past ring back into London. Their intensity increases until they are deafening. What once was a faded memory of a glorious time, now becomes a shocking reality. The consequences of actions taken decades ago ripple into the present, altering the lives of everybody in the City. Unguided and blind, Kindred wander around, trying to make profit out of the reigning chaos.


The appearance of four mysterious figures turned the city upside down. Mistrust and jealousy became the official currency of London. Serpents and fiends rise to power, misdirecting the blaming eyes of the Camarilla towards imaginary enemies. Only those with clear vision and the ability to trust each other strive, while the rest run towards a shallow grave.



Across The Board
Current Chronicle: Dragons and Lions; Pride and Fire
Current Season: Spring
Controlling Sect: Camarilla



Index
Getting Started
General Information
Central London
North London
East London
West London
South London
Miscellaneous
Out of Character


Population: 31

Camarilla
Anarchs
Other
Ventrue: 1
Toreador: 5 (6)
Brujah: 2 (3)
Malkavian: 7
Tremere: 2
Nosferatu: 3
Gangrel: 1
Ventrue: 1
Toreador: 0
Brujah: 2 (3)
Malkavian: 0
Nosferatu: 1
Gangrel: 1
Setites: 5
Sabbat: ???


THE CAMARILLA

Prince

Nobody

Sheriff
Meredith Furlong
Hounds
Robyne Sheridan
Rosella Marie Allain


Keeper of Elysium
Davvad Bisset

Grand Harpy
Catherine Wilke

Primogen
Ventrue: Marcus Antonio Russo
Brujah: Thomas Krusen
Gangrel: Alexa Mallik
Malkavian: Ellora Reese
Tremere: Hannah Sundling
Toreador: Arsenio Pozzi
Nosferatu: Dogan Khojak



ANARCHS

Baron

Khoza

Baronets
Enfield: Leslie
Haringey & Barnet: Clarice Harris
Harrow: Jelena Korolenko

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Welcome To The Night

You find yourself in London on a dreary, foggy night like any other. But what lurks in the shadows is the stuff of fantasies and nightmares, far from mortal reality.

This game uses the cursed and immortal vampiric condition as a backdrop to explore themes of morality, depravity, the human condition, salvation, and personal horror. We are a writing and roleplaying community dedicated to telling complex and engaging stories.

Your fate is your own. Mingle among the ivory-tower elite in the Camarilla, join the fight of the discontented and chaotic Anarch rabble, or set out independently and attempt to survive in London's nighttime underworld. Anything is possible in our World of Darkness.

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Start Me Up'; (Makie, Doc)
Topic Started: Wednesday, 5. February 2014, 23:03 (627 Views)
Mac
Member Avatar
Goddess of Fuck and War
* * * * *
She was on her porch again, having dominated the same old man into letting her hook up to the power of his apartment to play her guitar are on the steps. It was stupid to use the same steps again, she rarely hit up the same places over again. However, there was something about the way the music sounded here, the feel of the wooden steps beneath her jeans. It reminded her somehow of a very long time ago, when she'd sit with Mel's and smoke a doobie on her first 'boyfriend' James Jenkins porch.

Yeah she'd fucked more guys than she could count by that point, but J.J was the first boy to actually 'date' her. She had been horrified at the idea, but Mel's insistence won out and she accepted on his fourth attempt to put his jacket on her shoulders. Gross right? Totally, but she was a sucked for Mel's happiness, and Mel's was over the moon about the hook up. Mel's was smarter than she was sometimes, as J.J had actually been a near decent sort of Jock. Not nearly as empty headed as he looked, and generally fun to be around. Mel's ended up dated J.J's younger brother Perry, and they spent her last summer as a human being teenagers and doing stupid shit. Beach Parties, bush parties, and porch smoke outs. In an ode to the old times, she had her usual fatty pressed between those pretty lips, lit and trailing a thin dancing line of smoke upwards.

She was playing lightly tonight, not quite in the hammer it out mood of the last time she was having a jam session on the porch of this poor old fuckers buildings. Long fingers moved swiftly along she she picked out the Rolling Stones, guitar case beside her on the top of the stairs open to her bottle of Vodka and a small plastic baggie with pre-rolled goods. Her guitar looked old, battered, but played decent enough through the small portable amp she'd procured for it. Not stadium quality, but she wasn't really playing for anyone but herself anyways. She wanted it to sound real, she wanted it to sound like it used to... But nothing ever did, did it?
Edited by Mac, Wednesday, 5. February 2014, 23:05.
Posted Image

"You are so fucking Camarilla. All hope and optimism. Maybe we can mount a rescue mission, and everyone can have a cupcake party, and fly around on Pegasus unicorns pooping rainbows."
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Makie
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Non-suspicious Weak Harmless Anarch
* * * * * *
Yeah I, I got to know your name
Well and I, could trace your private number baby
All I know is that to me
You look like you're lots of fun
Open up your lovin' arms
I want some


The night always seemed to be dimly lit whenever she was around, a kind of lugubrious aura that followed her around staining every street that met the soil of her boots. Gray clouds filled the night sky, hiding the big old moon behind a thin veil of polluted white, and the stars that once decorated the canvas above her head had disappeared ever since the post-industrial era. Not that she minded, there were some spots in the city where you could get a good look at the stars between the smog clouds, but what she liked particularly the most about it was the cold wind of the night.

It wasn't as much of a sensation what she liked about it, she was impervious to such sensations. Heat, cold, warm days, cold days. Inside the leathery jacket she always wore, there were no signs of merriment or annoyance, but a constant indifference as cold as her touch. It was something more than that, she couldn't quite put the finger on it. The recent melody was still humming around her ears when she stopped her walk a few meters away of the porch taking a good look at the artist.

Music was another thing she liked, or used to at least. But she wasn't actually good at it... and she hadn't had any time to pick up a guitar since at least three years more or less.

Her pale hands clapped briefly

"Not bad. You got some ovaries playing out in a porch this late, the last guy who did that ended up getting shot, and the one before that got her violin broken in half and was chased out of the city."

For someone such as Mac it wouldn't be impossible to point Makie out as one of those inhuman vampires, the ones you can tell what they are even if they still have a human shape. It was something more than just the way they looked, something more than the way they looked at you... Which when you were a ghoul, or not even, always carried that inconsiderate "You're food" look to it. The one that gave up that they wouldn't give a second thought about your life, which they considered meaningless. It was about as comfortable as sitting next to a dangerous psychopath convicted for repeated murder, it wasn't a conflict about "Can they kill me?" it was suspense, a looming unsettling feeling that ringed "Are they going to?"
"When you're livin' in a town like this
It's easy to sit back and just forget
That the world keeps on spinnin' round and round"
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Mac
Member Avatar
Goddess of Fuck and War
* * * * *
“Last time I did this, this street exploded into chaos. Ain't seen so many Fanger's in one place since New York.”

She flexed her fingers as she played, throwing in an unconventional note now and then just to try and see if she could form the appropriate chords. Dexterity was there, just not quite on the level it had been. More physio perhaps? Jesus, who'd have thought it took so much fucking around to get back to 100 percent after losing a hand?

“Maybe it's too quiet and I'm looking for a little spice... Or I'm just testing out how well these fingers work... Seeing as my hand had a recent out of body experience and I wanted to make sure it all still ticks right. Never have suspected I'd have the ArchBishop as an audience... Got a request?”

She didn't at first appear too nervous of the frighteningly zombie like woman, but the small signs of slight stressing were there. Heart beating up just that low fraction, skin warming, tingling as if it had a second sense when it came to trouble. Makie had trouble written all over her, and despite not being the smartest kid in the chior she knew when knew she had to sing another tune when dealing with this woman. No in your face rude little cunt, she'd have to check part of it at the door and try and just be a cunt. Wouldn't do her any good to get on the ground and gravol, or pretend to be anything she wasn't.

When it came to the uncomfortablity of being around someone as debased and beastial as Makie, the marker was off with Mac. She was further in the shit hole of darkness than many vampires, throwing her own sort of inhumane vibes despite having an entirely viable and living heart beat. Woman was built wrong, to muscular, arms to defined, too many scars on her hands and tattoo's arms. Octopus arms of her chest piece wrapping around her and clutching the tattoo's pendant in the center, perky tits to perfect and full to belong on a creature as Athletic as Mac naturally. People skittered across the street from her when she passed, instinctively seeking the safety of distance without ever getting to close.

Psychopaths abound in London. Mac had a string of murders following her across the globe, she knew when she was in like company of monsters. Some Monsters, like this one... Were worse than she was.

“So, Did I happen to do something particularily naughty to have fallen into your Radar your ... Eminence? Insert the term you prefer here? Or is this just a crazy random happenstance that will end unfortunately for me either way?”

Chances of meeting the Arch Bishop in Anarch territory, when you were her? She gauged the odds of this being a random sort of occasion at approximately 211042 : 1. Give or take a few digits. She kept cool with her voice though, afterall... Makie was the shit. She'd heard that the woman had once punched a man so hard, his head had -exploded-. If she was ever in the company of a creature she could worship on the level of her very own beastly nature, it was this terrifying creature. Death by Makie? Well... Now wouldn't that be something?
Edited by Mac, Tuesday, 18. February 2014, 00:00.
Posted Image

"You are so fucking Camarilla. All hope and optimism. Maybe we can mount a rescue mission, and everyone can have a cupcake party, and fly around on Pegasus unicorns pooping rainbows."
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Makie
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Non-suspicious Weak Harmless Anarch
* * * * * *
Her eyebrows showed movement arching behind the mirrored shades, and the corner of her lips started to shape a smile so slowly it looked as if fishhooks were pulling from them with care.

"I see my reputation precedes me"

She always had something for ghouls who weren't just master's little pet, those were the ones bound to become something greater in the end. Only someone that had been beaten to the could get up again harder and stronger, it was something about facing adversity. For her it was the only test that ever mattered, a test of each one's own power of will. And willpower was about the most important thing anyone could have, anything was achievable if you had enough will to just go and get it. Even if it was an oversimplification of things, that's how she felt things were most of the time.

Though lately, she had begun to think of rebellious ghouls as nuisances and damaged goods instead. Like little kids who just don't understand why parents tell them not to do things, and think themselves so smart. She thought whatever need to rebel they could feel was justified and natural, but misplaced, like meaningless efforts in the wrong place.

"Such etiquette, it's a rare thing to see a ghoul outside of the East even knowing how to address me properly." She congratulated, but her voice was riddled with a rather humorous tone, indicative about the fact that she regarded the entire thing without much seriousness

"No unfortunate end for you just yet I'm afraid, but you knew we were going to meet sooner or later didn't you? I'm here to talk about more interesting things, I bring the entertainment of the century wherever I go, and you're just the perfect eye of the storm.

Have you ever heard of Jack? Malkavian, well dressed, smooth as fuck dude. Also killed Damon's friend, and pretty much everyone he knew or cared for?

(I'm great at dinner parties, too.)"
"When you're livin' in a town like this
It's easy to sit back and just forget
That the world keeps on spinnin' round and round"
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Mac
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Goddess of Fuck and War
* * * * *
Jesus, what kind of shit do they make here if -that's- considered Etiquette?” That wasn't Etiquette, that was bare bones basic respect where respect was due. Etiquette would have been getting off her ass and prostrating in front of the ArchBishop, as she was taught to do by Marco back home. Sink to your knees, hands behind your back and palms open and upwards to show you had nothing to hide, forehead to the ground until you were spoken to, then only get up if you're told you may. If not? Well, you could have hours on your bloody knee's... Sometimes they liked to make it interesting, and Marco would spread out small rocks or glass to kneel on, see how long you could take it. Her throat got tight just thinking about it, eyes following the wicked smile that this particular ArchBishop wore.

“Yeah, I knew it'd happen.” She was to much of a shit head trouble maker to fly under the radar for long, which is why she usually didn't stick around long enough to get on the radar. She was a hopper, from city to city as she moved around. Never liked to stay in one place too long, didn't like to get -pinned-. Surely didn't have any desire to fall onto the map of someone like Makie.

She shifted from her playing style, slipping out of the Rolling Stones and into something more ... befitting of the nightmare in front of her. It helped the song was perfect for electric guitar, although she wished she had a bass instead. She could rip it right on the bass, the base beats of music were where her soul flourished, she'd always been better at it than the six string... but this was Mel's guitar, not her own, so she'd make do. Enter Sandman rang into the air, the low intro falling over Makie's words about Jack like background music.

Well, fuck. She raced through her head a moment, trying to pin down all the thoughts she had on the man and Makie's situation. They hated each other right? He was her opposition pretty much, going toe to toe and preventing each other from really solidifying the seat of power right now. Honesty would be fine in this situation right? But what if something had shifted, what if allegiances had changed in the aftermath of Camden?

Awe fuck. She was on the spot... What kind of shit had she just landed in? Her hands shifted and slid with the music, taking a second to try and coalesce a response appropriate to not trying to stay off that 'unfortunate end' list. Well Doc, this clusterfuck is -your- doing for once... See, I ain't the only fucking trouble maker. About time something of his came round to biting her in the ass, ain't like she was a light burden on him.

I've heard of the fucker. Don't know him though, ain't never met him.” Wont never meet him, not proper. She'd set that boy ablaze long before he'd ever get a word out.
Posted Image

"You are so fucking Camarilla. All hope and optimism. Maybe we can mount a rescue mission, and everyone can have a cupcake party, and fly around on Pegasus unicorns pooping rainbows."
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Makie
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Non-suspicious Weak Harmless Anarch
* * * * * *
Makie grinned. If she had any interest in her, in her obedience, in her devotion, then she would expect to see her submission just like that someday. To make her want to submit herself to Makie. To dominate someone was not as much about forcing your own will into them, as it was about them wanting you to, half and half if you would. And it was not merely a physical thing, like lust, some kind of pathological desire of the body which longed for her presence, she had to own their minds as well, to possess them completely and utterly. Ownership of the soul was the only kind of real ownership over someone anyone could have, the only kind she'd acknowledge. Everyhing else was temporary, you were merely borrowing that person for the moment, but they weren't yours at all.

But etiquette? No, she'd do that when it was important. But thus far it hadn't been, nor here, nor in the East. She had built everything from the debris of a falling empire, making bricks out of the ashes of her friends, the few she ever had. There were no superiors in the aftermath, no one to report to, there were no underlings either, Makie had always been a loyalist except when it became imperative for her to become something else. Followers though, those she did have. For her it wasn't really about being pristine and orthodox in every single situation. It was about being practical, fluid. People prostrating themselves to her certainly was not that. Not yet at least.

"Lucky you, I have. It sucked to have the only cool guy left in the East become a treacherous psycho out to murder your friends. I don't know what Church's standing in all this is, but letting go that kind of shit ain't my style, and if I were him, I know I wouldn't be alright waking up every night knowing I'm a loose end that someone might come to fix any moment.

What happened to your hand by the way?"
"When you're livin' in a town like this
It's easy to sit back and just forget
That the world keeps on spinnin' round and round"
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Mac
Member Avatar
Goddess of Fuck and War
* * * * *
"I can't speak for Church, but my understanding of the situation is that Jack is a piece of shit and he desires little more than to set that fucker on fire and watch him burn. There may have been discussion of roasting marshmallows over the blazing corpse, and maybe some camp fire songs. Course, I may have just written that into the plan in my head because I'm a fruit cake."

She slid her hand up the strings, creating a sleek reverb before taking the hand away from the guitar altogether, and giving it a shake in the air as her fingers did jazz hands. It felt good, like it had never left. There were perhaps a few perks to being a ghoul, becoming a low level Mr. potato head certainly had it's advantages. Course, it had it's disadvantages too... Like having needed to have it put back on in the first place. Which Makie was asking about.

Jesus, she didn't want to tell that lame story... Well, she sort of did. She lost a hand, and gained a head. It still made we grin to think about it, however, she didn't want to say who's head.

"Had a Cammie bitch frenzy on my tits. They cost to much to let him bite my nipples off, so I punched him in the mouth... I figured he'd choke on the fist, never thought he'd actually be strong enough to bite it off. Either way, bought me the time I needed to remove his head. So I won, just not... As flawlessly as I would have hoped. Shouldn't have stopped to play with my food, it was my bad.... In the end I was holding a head in one hand, with my other hand jammed down it's decapitated throat. Couldn't get it out either, potence had jammed it in there real good.."

Fingertips came back down on the neck of the guitar, continuing on with the song once her little tail of handlessness had come to a somewhat end. She'd let Makie laugh her ass off at her if she wanted, she had sure laughed at the idiocy of her own situation several times after the fact.
Posted Image

"You are so fucking Camarilla. All hope and optimism. Maybe we can mount a rescue mission, and everyone can have a cupcake party, and fly around on Pegasus unicorns pooping rainbows."
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Makie
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Non-suspicious Weak Harmless Anarch
* * * * * *
"He bit your hand and you ripped his head off with the other one?"

Her tone grew more histerical with incredulity as it went on, and before the sentence was done she had already exploded in a mirthful and contagious laugh.

"That's brutal, there's no way that was all there was to it, come on, now you've gotta tell me the full story, give me details"

Her smile was almost impossibly wide, it had been a long time since she had heard an insteresting story that was not about what jenny had done with jimmy's boyfriend or something like that. Not in this side of town anyways. A most welcome change, and for one it was coming from a ghoul. And by the looks of it she had grown to be quite interested in the story and the details surrounding it.

It made her think back, about the time when nomad packs would meet each other during the ritae and talk about deeds and interesting stories. She had accumulated quite a few war stories and tales, alas, she had no one to share them with, no one to bear witness to her scars. There was something about Mac's story that she couldn't quite put the finger on. It was not because ghouls were too weak to perform such a feat; It was very much possible, specially amongst the most reckless of them.

And yet, she had no idea exactly what it was.
"When you're livin' in a town like this
It's easy to sit back and just forget
That the world keeps on spinnin' round and round"
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Mac
Member Avatar
Goddess of Fuck and War
* * * * *
She couldnt help the infection caused by the Archbishops laughter, cracking her grin even wider and making her shoulders tremble with surpressed laughter. No, no man. This is a trick! You can't make an Archbishop laugh like that! Well, maybe that was just the shitty bishops she'd known in the past? Maybe Makie was less of a stuck up fuck face? ... Still, there was a tension and anxiety in telling this story. Tooting her own horn to much, putting herself more in the focus of the zombiesque woman's attention.

"Not much more to tell... It was a Ventrue dick no one's going to miss that's for sure, but that's why I really wasn't expecting him to be able to bite my fucking hand off. Must have blood magnified his strength a thousand folds or something in his death throes, I'm... usually harder to bite through. Took his head off with a Machete though, him being all leathery and Ventrue and all. Machete's work better and I love my tits to much to let them die. Their heads don't pop like daisies as easy as some clans."

She shifted on the guitar now to strum into a very light metal ballad. It was like a backdrop atmosphere to the conversation, verses just stopping and leaving an eerie fucking silence to rule their quite door perch. Nope, fuck that. She needed to music to keep her nerves down.

"I'm not sure who really got the last laugh... I had to take the head to have Church pull the hand out so we could stick it back on. Not my finest hour... But chucking a disembodied head at someone when they open the door is as much fun as it sounds, hysterical. He actually fumbled it and had to do a double catch, then dropped the fucker. "

Well, she obviously knew the Mac/Church relationship there, as Makie was the first one to bring up her Doc afterall. No point in trying to dodge around the facts, since the Archbishop appeared to have a bullshit radar anyways. Why was she...here though? She'd talked about jack, was she looking to eliminate the fucker and was seeking out... Church?
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"You are so fucking Camarilla. All hope and optimism. Maybe we can mount a rescue mission, and everyone can have a cupcake party, and fly around on Pegasus unicorns pooping rainbows."
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