Vampire The Masquerade RPG
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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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The Man Who Is Wasting His Time (Open: Night); Hospitality Club
Topic Started: Thursday, 24. April 2014, 20:47 (1,685 Views)
Mr.Gar
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Freelance Enforcer
* * *
The first floor was a dark stained hardwood with heavy tables, bolted to the floor with heavy iron brackets. Didn't want to make it easy for people to start brawls. The chairs were all heavy, dark wood and leather. The wood was all heavy and hard to break into anything easily used as a stake. The bar was heavy with several heavy barrels along the back, giving it a bit of the old Irish Pub vibe to it, only more settled for quiet conversation. A cold fireplace was built into the back wall. There was easily room for a dozen people to sit around the various tables without crowding.


There was a form hunched at the bar. Small, shrouded in a black canvas coat with rents patched with raw red silk, giving it the look of a beast whose hide has been torn to the muscle. A black bowler cap rests on the bar next to it and it's skull gleams a coppery skin, leathery and clean shaven. Ears twist to solid points stand out to either side of it's head.

The figure has a gnarled leathery hand wrapped around a black ceramic mug and seems content to sip slowly from it, enjoying the taste of blood, warmed to an enjoyable flavor.

His small form was dressed in a simple brown pin stripe suit. A vest, white shirt and brown spotted tie. A pair of plain brown loafers encased his feet, twin pennies gleaming with shining copper brilliance from their straps. A well trimmed but bushy gray van dyke was encased around his lips and his eyes were deep set in a leathery face. Eyes of an odd reddish-brown like some rabbits regard the goings on with curiosity, and perhaps a touch of annoyance.

A cane rests against the bar, 3 feet of black polypropylene capped with a 3 inch steel knob, molded for an easy grip just below the head. A simple walking stick with a steel ring at the bottom. The cane is thick and solid, as it should be consider the steel core that runs down the length of it.

The Gangrel raises a gray eyebrow slowly, watching the goings on with interest, a cold predatory gaze. The air around him hangs heavy with a cursed scent. The smell of old blood, dried bones, graveyard dirt and dusty stones; the scent of tombs. To the mortals it goes a step beyond, an aura of undefinable eerie wrongness that motivates them to move away and beware, that isolates him from the crowd. A scar as thick as a thumb knots the side of his throat, marking a place for a man once shanked him and nearly ruined his vocal chords, giving him a voice like a dry and rasping buzzsaw.

He had promised Dandelion he would move to become Baron and this was his start. He was socializing, or at least trying too. Here at least he could speak without worrying about being overhead by humans. He'd left a note regarding his interest in speaking to others in the Night Tripper, though he wasn't sure anyone would actually come to speak it over.
Gar's Antham

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Jelena
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Anarch Mama Bear
* * * *
So this was the place the note had talked about, eh? Weird name? Check. Looking old and snazzy? Check. Calling itself Club? Check. Fuck, those things popped up like mushrooms in the woods lately. Ellen was ready to bet that an alley cat couldn't go for a piss without spraying one of those places. Fuck that. Some guy wanted to talk, so they would. Wondered why he didn't want to use the Tripper, apart from that the name sounded like an STD. On second thought, maybe the Tripper was too, heh, proletarian? Might as well by the look of this place. Would be easy enough to figure. Rules of behavior? Pfft, sure!

Steps sounded through the room as the blonde entered. Heavy boots, jeans pulled over the shafts. Plain red t-shirt contrasting with it, covering her forms. Cheap sports watch on the wrist, hair pulled back into a braid. She recognized bowler guy. How was she supposed to forget him? Steps came closer as she came towards the bar. She wondered if this place would be good for some hellraiser shit or not. Looked good enough to her. Everything else would depend on him. "Heard you wanted to talk, didn't get about what, really. Mind filling me in?"
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Jason B. Dahlgren
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För Kung och Fosterland
* * * *
He honestly spent more time in his office than he did down in the actual club, but every so often the Gangrel saw need for showing himself so people were at least aware of his presence there. Didn't do much to have an owner be absent when he had rules that needed to be reinforced, now was it? Not that he really expected people to be stupid enough to use the place to cause trouble, but it was none the less a good precaution to ensure that people were aware of his presence.

Seemed tonight there was at least one familiar face among the small crowd of people who visited the place on a regular basis, namely Mister Gar who got a polite smile and a light inclination of his head from the Gangrel. Though seeing as he was currently in conversation with a young woman, Jason decided not to interrupt, instead he would take the time to go over the bar stock so that if needed be he could pour people their drinks.
Might as well be useful while there, right?

The Swede, as was fairly commonplace for his, was dressed in black pants and a discreetly pinstriped west worn over a white shirt with a black tie. He still had that typical 3 day stubble of beard he so often had while his hair had simply been pulled back and tied out of the way in a loose ponytail. And quite frankly? He seemed to blend in pretty well behind the bar counter.
Swedish - English - French - Latin
Amber wolf eyes - Permanent fangs - Claw-like nails
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Mr.Gar
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Freelance Enforcer
* * *
The small vampire turned and regarded Jelena, his red eyes glowing as he regards her. He adjusts his tie simply and decides he'll just be blunt. No point in wasting words.

"Yes. I'm running for Baron. I wanted to know if you had a problem with that or knew someone you thought could do the job better."

He clasped his gnarled hands together, regarding her calmly beneath his bristling gray van dyke. He was small, barely 5' tall in his shoes. He was a wiry, leathery little man in nice clothing who smelled like a crypt and drove mortals away with an aura the living feared.

He didn't plan to play fancy word games or do verbal gymnastics. He was plain spoken and believed in common sense. The same common sense that drove him to stake Aguirre at that ludicrous meeting to prevent a riot from breaking out.

He did return Jason's nod and smile at the older Gangrel. He personally liked this club. It was a nice place. It was a relaxed and quiet environment, lacking those drunken mortals who wandered into the Tripper so often. Here nobody even knew to come in unless they knew where the place was. Since there were no signs advertising it.
Gar's Antham

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Jelena
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Anarch Mama Bear
* * * *
"Let's suppose I do. Don't know shit about you, so from there, everyone could be able to do the job better. What can you do that others can't?" she asked as she crossed her arms in front of her chest and leaned against the bar. The Brujah looked at the Gangrel suspiciously. Note hadn't said anything about that. Wondered why. "Tripper's not classy enough for this shit?" Nodded over to the guy behind the bar. "Friend of yours, bowler hat?" She turned halfway around, her back against the bar now. Four fingers tapping against the wood. What was this guy about?
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Mr.Gar
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* * *
"Firstly, yes, he is a friend of mine. He's a clan brother and over three hundred years old. Which makes him wonderful for keeping the peace. He's the owner of this establishment and he's taken it upon himself to keep the peace in this establishment.

Secondly, the Tripper is a shit meeting place full of mortals, which means the masquerade is in place which makes it hard to talk about stuff without random bikers walking in for a drink. This place is concealed. Only those told about it know it's hear which means people are free to be themselves.

As for what I can do, well, that's a tough question now isn't it? I could tell you I'm powerful enough to turn into a cloud of mist and fog, but that might not mean anything to you, and doesn't mean squat about what I could do as the Baron. So let's just go with the fact that I'm old enough and patient enough to stand between you and the Prince. I've worked with Camarilla as an independent contractor and I've been an enforcer for Barons up and down the East Coast of the US. So I know the game and more importantly I know how to organize people to guard against Sabbat incursions; incidentally the same skills work for keeping the Camarilla from scooping up a leaderless collection of Anarchs like rabble."


He regarded her calmly, his gaze steady. He was calm and relaxed sitting in the chair. The question was really, is she just another mouthy Brujah or does she have a brain and the ability to talk about things calmly. Her aggressive stance didn't mean much to him. She might have speed and strength, but she couldn't punch a cloud into submission, nor stake one and he wouldn't let her disrupt the peace.

He was starting to think these Anarchs WANTED the Camarilla to come in and scoop them up. Maybe that was it. Maybe she was just waiting for the Cam Brujah to come down and make her part of them, maybe she missed being part of the fold. If that was the case she was in for disappointment because he wasn't going to let the Anarch territory fall just because these people couldn't seem to get their mind around NEEDING someone to stand up for their rights in the face of the Prince and Camarilla.
Gar's Antham

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Yukiko Miyazaki
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Elder
* * * * *
A small, slender, freckled young Brunette with slightly pale skin wanders in after the Swedish Gangrel, studying a clipboard with a deeply mischievous expression on her face.

Her hair is done up in a tight bun at the back of her head and she wears a somewhat flattering, pinstripe business suit and chaste skirt of a blue so deep it's almost black, a white shirt underneath and a purple tie. The way she trails after Jason suggests she may be his personal assistant.

Under one arm she carries a brand new coffee maker which she quietly sets up behind the bar before studying the clipboard again and turning to select one of the containers of blood.

Carefully she pours some of the contents into the coffee maker with a carefully measured quantity of food colouring and turns the machine on, studying it with a frown of concentration when it starts to make alarming burbling noises..as these machines do..

It belches out steam, white, despite the red liquid and after carefully studying the contents of the mug she stirs the red froth it produced with two sharp, slender sticks and beams with a hint of smugness.

"For Science!"

The mug is offered to Jason along with a bright, cheerful smile.

"Would you care to try the Blood-spresso, Father?"
Yuki is somewhat small, with an athletic build but the muscletone of a wet noodle.
She looks to be in her early twenties.
Those with an interest in Manga may recognise her as 'MissMatch' a noted illustrator in the business.
Italics are inner monologue, White is Japanese
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Jelena
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Anarch Mama Bear
* * * *
Ellen looked back to Jason and then to the girl that came in next. "So lets see if I get this right. You ask people who don't know you to meet you, because you want to talk. You don't tell them its about becoming baron, just that you want to talk. The Tripper or neutral ground in general suck, so you ask them to come to your place." An apologetic smile hit the Gagrel behind the bar. "His place. Where you know the place and have friends nearby. Like now. Thought this would be a one on one, not whoever brings more friends wins." The Brujah scanned the room. Furniture was fixed, didn't seeto much of a problem with that. Had a look for any windows in reach, just in case. If she ended up having to fight her way out of this, she would.

"So yeah, makes me a bit jumpy about how things are laid out here. Might do the same for others." Only those told about it, eh? Like if no one knows you know about the place, no one will look for you? Inviting as fuck! "Right, so if I decide not to piss off to my block and ignore the shit out of you or go have a look who else wants to become king of the dump, what's in for me? What's in for us?"
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Mr.Gar
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* * *
"If you're uncomfortable with the environment, leave. The message about this place went out to as many Anarchs as we can reach. I guess if you didn't get the message you must not be very social. I'm not threatening you. Jason is here because he OWNS this building, and is running it like a Keeper runs an Elysium, by ensuring a safe place. The Tripper is a holdover from the last Baron. A woman who, from what I was told, was a cocaine addict whose main accomplishment was getting into a public brawl with the Camarilla's Tremere Primogen in front of WITNESSES. How many mortals died to keep that breach quiet?

If you don't care about the Anarch movement in London take off. I've been talking to folk, trying to see who is good for the job, and no names are coming up. We've got Anarch heavies coming down from other areas because they're concerned this place is going to fall to the Camarilla. So if you KNOW someone is good for the job, name them so I can talk to them and see if I agree. I talked to that Tory woman but she doesn't grasp what political subtlety means and is too busy holding a grudge against the Camarilla to protect Anarch assets.

This city is a three way contest to see who has control of the Boroughs. You know how easy it would be for the Camarilla to snap up Brent and Enfield? They out number us what.. 3 to 1? The Sabbat has been quiet for months. Which means pretty soon the Prince is going to start wondering WHY he doesn't hold this entire city the way Mithras did.

I don't particularly want to see that happen. My only reason for stepping up is that the only other person I've seen do so, I wouldn't trust not to get us caught up in a war. So if you can lose the paranoia and name a candidate I'll gladly talk to them any place they feel comfortable."


His voice was a dry buzzsaw rasp, courtesy of the shank he'd suffered in his late teens. His eyes were calm. He wasn't too worried about her paranoia. If she wanted to bail, she could, wouldn't bother him. He didn't know what her problem us or why she was so paranoid. Nor did he have much time for it. If she was insane she could do him the favor and show him soon so he could give up on her and move on to the next person he needed to talk too.
Gar's Antham

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Jelena
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Anarch Mama Bear
* * * *
Ellen laughed and got a small box out of her pocket. Took out a cigarette and tore it in halves. She put one half back to the box and one half between her lips. Didn't light it though. Cute, now he was making assumptions about her. Trying to make her flip so they could throw her out? Bitch please. "Yeah right, not very social, so what? Just a rank and file anarch. That means I'm not good enough for this place? That means I'm not important enough to talk to? Not important enough to be offered a normal talk and a neutral ground? Good enough to get out if I don't like your three on one? Just good enough to spit out the names of a few fucks more useful than me before I finally stop littering in your snazzy palace? Just tell me and I'll piss off like the good little bitch I am. My dick's clearly not as big as his." Nodded to Jason. "or yours. Thats OK, know why? I'm a girl. Don't have a dick, I have tits."

Poked her chest with her thumb to get her point over. "Call me paranoid. Haven't gotten this old by being too dumb to watch my own ass." Shrugged and leaned in to Gar. Their faces only inches apart. "What about we stop the pissing contest and see if there's more serious talk instead of just waving tits and dicks and looking not impressed? Like, productive shit."
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Mr.Gar
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Freelance Enforcer
* * *
"If that's how you feel just get out. I don't have time to waste on suspicion and paranoia. If you think you're being set up or set upon I've got nothing more to say to you. You're wasting my time with these allegations. I thought I'd just get straight to the point and you've already wasted my time by twisting everything I say to fit whatever mental damage you've got going on. We sent the address of this place to every Anarch we could find an address for. The damn name means HOSPITALITY CLUB. It's a version of Elysium meant to be safe for everyone who enters. Jason enforces that, like the Keeper."

The small man shook his head. He didn't have time for these stupid games and childish tantrums. Whatever bug was up her ass she could take it and walk. He wasn't going to waste more time on her. He wasn't going to waste his time trying to decipher whatever stupidity she was going on about. He didn't have time for it. He had an Anarch territory falling apart because the people in it were collectively too stupid to choose their own replacement.

He got up and walked away from the bar moving over to the pool table where he contemplated racking a set of balls and playing a game. Whatever this crazy bitch's problem it wasn't his and he wasn't going to dance to whatever insane tune she was badly attempting to fiddle. She could twist whatever he said into an insult, so there was no point in saying more.

Taking down the triangle he started filling it with balls, making sure to squeeze it tight so they'd be a good solid cluster. He slipped the triangle back into it's slot and took down a cue and placed the cue ball.
Gar's Antham

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Jelena
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Anarch Mama Bear
* * * *
Ellen took a few seconds to fully admire his patience. How well he played the game. His organizational skills. Bullshit, this pompous asshole had no patience at all, just because she didn't crawl down his ass fast enough and say yes and amen to every bit of glorious revelation he decided to give to her in the grace of his awesomeness. Yeah, because fuck that. The Brujah guessed that piece of shit had been around Cammies too long. Not her problem anymore. Hehd had the opportunity to talk, went for strongarming and intimidation instead. Way to rally people, bowler hat!

She pushed herself off the bar. No poit, apparently the grown-up was not at home. She walked to the entrance, but turned around with the doorhandle in her hand. "Perhaps Jack Andrews is important enough for you. Might get along. Night!" She opened the door and walked through, closed it again. Last glance over her shoulder. Made sure to remember the address. Better avoid that place from now on, not disturb fancy-pants and his posh buddies.

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Mr.Gar
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Freelance Enforcer
* * *
He broke the pyramid with a single stroke. Fuck London, and fuck London's Anarchs. A bunch of morons with no understanding of how the system worked. Too stupid to study the histories and learn what the hell the entire point of the Anarch rebellion was. Whatever. The Bayou was looking better every day. He could go back to hunting Mokole and Magi and enjoying the way they split when his claws sunk into them.

Clearly not a damned one of these Londoner's understood what was at stake. Fine, when Alarik Blucher owned all their territory and they had no choice but to leave London or kiss his ring, that was on them. So busy fucking arguing over knitty gritty pointless things that they couldn't address the serious issue. Like the need for unity in the face of Camarilla and Sabbat presence. Fine, whatever.

All he had to do was pack a shipping crate with some fresh earth and meld into it and he could be back in the swamps in less than a week. If it wasn't for Leo he'd do it too. No point in wasting more of his time. People'd rather bitch about what table they were at than talk about what they wanted for a Baron, if they wanted a Baron. Clearly the youth of this never-sufficiently-fucked city didn't understand the different between Anarch and Independent. They were no better than Caitiff fighting for recognition.

They wanted the prizes but none of them wanted to pay the price. None of them could even talk about the subject without going all screw headed and freaking out. Oh no. Try to get them to talk about someone becoming Baron and they want to accuse you of setting ambushes because they're not familiar with a fucking nice place to sit their ass. Makes perfect sense. He asks for recommendations for who might do the job better than him, and all he gets are accusations as if he's planning an assassination.

Seriously, fuck this city and fuck the massive waste of time trying to save these people from themselves.
Gar's Antham

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Jason B. Dahlgren
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För Kung och Fosterland
* * * *
Thank God or whatever higher power existed that insults to his person was not one of the Gangrel's triggers. In fact, save for the matter of his family's safety, he was a calm man at heart. And it was that calmness that allowed the brat to leave as opposed to getting thrown out, possibly in pieces.
What the bloody Hell was her problem?
In fact, he was so distracted by the display he sort of abcently took the offered cup from Yuki with a muttered thank you while his eyes lingered in the direction the child had stomped off in. It also meant he wasn't really aware of what he was putting in his mouth until it was too late and the taste touched his tongue.
Oh, dear, God! That was di....

Jason choked down the mouthful with a less than dignified sound before looking to Yuki, to the cup and then back at Yuki again in bewilderment before saying the one thing a good father could say in the current situation.
"That was... Special" he even managed a smile. "Might need a little fine tuning though" like, serious re-tuning... "But, uhm, thank you" he petted the top of her head.

"Yuki, could you be a dear and fetch the bottle I keep in my study upstairs? I think Mister Gar here could use a strong drink" and possibly a hammer, because surely hitting himself would have to be more pleasing than endure talks like that.
Swedish - English - French - Latin
Amber wolf eyes - Permanent fangs - Claw-like nails
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Yukiko Miyazaki
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Elder
* * * * *
The small Japanese girl ignores the particulars of the baffling conversation as not being any business of hers and smiles with a cheerful, hopeful expression as Jason tries the experimental beverage.

..her face falls at the..ehem, less than ideal results and she nods meekly, biting her lip and giving her adoptive father an apologetic look, although she does purr softly at the pat on her head, she means well and Father is fortunately levelheaded enough to realise that.

"Yes Father, no more additives, i will do better next time."

She bows politely and idly glances at the..deeply, deeply unnerving man her Father once described as approximating a friend...eep!..scary!..but..sort of sad and dejected, but mostly scary..and what IS that smell?

"Yes Father, right away!"

And with that the small brunette energeticalyl darts off to fetch Father's bottle from his study. Oh, and two glasses. ..and possibly a spraycan of airfresher..no wait,t hat would probably be rude..maybe he can't help it?
Yuki is somewhat small, with an athletic build but the muscletone of a wet noodle.
She looks to be in her early twenties.
Those with an interest in Manga may recognise her as 'MissMatch' a noted illustrator in the business.
Italics are inner monologue, White is Japanese
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Mr.Gar
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Freelance Enforcer
* * *
"All I want to know, is if there is someone in this city better suited to be Baron than me, so I can endorse that person, OR find out what people want if nobody is willing to step up and take the position? What the hell is so hard about that? Where the bloody hell did conspiracies and ganging up on people and all this other shit come from? Are these people so convoluted that they can't deal with someone having an HONEST conversation on a topic without getting confused?"


His rasping voice was a growl as he continued playing pool, muttering under his breath. He had absolutely no idea what the fucking problem was that had come up. Why the hell did that get complicated. Where did the mystery come in from what. How was honest communication so hard for people?

He grumbled as he shot pool. He wasn't particularly good at it, so the balls were mostly just hitting each other and bouncing around, but it was relieving his stress so that was a good thing.
Gar's Antham

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Jason B. Dahlgren
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För Kung och Fosterland
* * * *
She was a wonderful little daughter, and as such, he would smile and wait until she'd left before he discreetly poured the rest of the horrible mix of.. well, let's call it coffee blood, down the drain, taking a moment to rinse the cup before walking over to Gar.

"Don't look at me" he held his hands up as he walked over and let out a low sigh upon lowering them again. "I have no clue what that woman was on about and I'm as confused as you are" the Swede truly had no idea what had just happened, he was just happy to see it resolve itself without having ended in a hands on brawl.

Folding his arms across his chest he tilted his head slightly to the side.
"So you are running for Baron hm?" he regarded the other Gangrel with amber eyes. "Quite frankly I think that is a good idea even if your" well, he waved a hand in the general direction of the door. "friend there seems to have an issue with it. However, I did not hear her voice any other suggestions" nor did she seem like the type to step up to take on the responsibility herself either.

"My daughter is being so kind as to fetching us a drink, would you care to sit and talk with me for a bit?" he felt for the man, having to deal with things like what had just gone down. After all, it wasn't as if being a leader was all glory and power now was it? It was responsibilities and politics and headaches. And those who sought such a position had better be ready for it.

As it were, he had no doubt Gar knew what he'd be getting himself into, though no one needed that kind of headache from their fellow Sect members when all they were trying to to was help.
Swedish - English - French - Latin
Amber wolf eyes - Permanent fangs - Claw-like nails
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Yukiko Miyazaki
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Elder
* * * * *
And apparently Yuki is an enthusiastic and efficient assistant as well because it isn't long before she scampers back down the stairs with the bottle from Jason's desk and two glasses, carefully fills the two glasses, stopping two finger breadth from the rim. (No skimping on the good stuff in this house!)

Arrange the bottle with the glasses on a serving tray before carrying it over to the two Kindred to place the glasses within easy reach but not so close that it's easily knocked off or in the way of Gar's game and the tray with the bottle on a nearby, easily reached table.

She then bows her head politely and shuffles a little closer to Jason to observe Gar with a worried but deeply curious expression, taking in the ears..the teeth..the eyes..every little detail about the man, nervously producing a bottle of Old Spice cologne and glancing questioningly at Jason. ..she doesn't want to be rude by offering it directly, or just going ahead and dousing the small, strange, deeply SCARY man in aftershave..

If anything she looks a little like a small, harmless squeeky animal, torn between panicked flight and indulging it's deep, almost overpowering curiosity.
Yuki is somewhat small, with an athletic build but the muscletone of a wet noodle.
She looks to be in her early twenties.
Those with an interest in Manga may recognise her as 'MissMatch' a noted illustrator in the business.
Italics are inner monologue, White is Japanese
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Mr.Gar
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Freelance Enforcer
* * *
"I dunno. When vampires are so far gone as to get paranoid over the bartenders at a meeting place I think there's probably no way to reach them. Even in human society meeting in a food establishment to discuss things is fairly normal. I have no real explanation for what just happened. But she wouldn't be the first vampire to develop some kind of derangement after having been turned."

He shrugged and nodded politely to Yuki, accepting the glass and taking a sip, sighing happily as the drink slid down his throat.

"I ran into a Nosferatu from Bath. She was representing the Baron there. She explained quite succinctly that if we didn't organize a Baron here soon the rest of the Anarch Movement would pull support for our territory here and we'd be on our own for defending the turf from the Sabbat or the Camarilla. Basically giving us the option of either moving to a different city, or accepting whichever stronger power decided to swallow us up. I don't want to see it happen but nobody is stepping up to try and unify this lot."

One of his red-brown eyes regards Yuki with a slight smile of amusement. He notices the cologne and he snorts in an amused laugh. Shaking his head.

"It's a magical curse girl. The smell can't be hidden. A coven of Magi cursed my maker to rot eternally. Some of the magic passed down to me, giving me a crypt scent and an aura that makes mortals frightened. But I appreciate your thought. I promise I'm quite hygienically clean."
Gar's Antham

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Vanth
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"Hmmmmm. This place looks like it was just shat out of a Blue Blood's arse. Gotta love all those nice shades of brown."

Though the words were uncouth, they seemed to almost be purred in a strong, deliberate voice.

When the other Kindred looked more closely, they found that a freakishly tall man was laying on the bar on his stomach, facing the pool table whilst his legs gently rocked from side to side. His long hair was dyed in many different colours, though his connecting goatee was dark brown. Violet eyes stared at Gar with a cat's curiosity.

"So you wanna be our spokesrebel? Our Lord? That's gonne be a challenge. You see, us London Anarchs, we're sort of like an anarcho-syndicalist commune! We should be taking turns to act as a sort of executive-officer-for-the-week. But all the decisions of that officer 'ave to be ratified at a special bi-weekly meeting. By a simple majority, in the case of purely internal affairs, but by a two-thirds majority, in the case of more major..."

He trailed, hoping to spur the unsightly Gangrel into some kind of Arthurian rage.
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