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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. Create Your Account! If you're already a member, please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| [ARCHIVED] - Shifting Shadows [Enrolled Characters only] | |
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| Topic Started: Friday, 25. July 2014, 19:08 (4,121 Views) | |
| Obstacles | Friday, 25. July 2014, 19:08 Post #1 |
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Childe
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Strange things have been going on in the Hither Green Cemetery in the Garden of Remembrance. South East London has been growing unquiet of late. Pets have been disappearing, as have homeless people. Officials have no explanation as to why. No bodies have been found and there has been no upsurge of crime reported to the police. But there has been a surge in Urban Legends in the area. There are those who claim that the shadows of Hither Green Cemetery move at night. The Whovian slogan “count the shadows” has recently been spray painted across one of the external walls. Several old residents refer to a time during the Second World War; they claimed that those who hid within the cemetery during the blitz were never seen again. They called it “the bombing cloud” and said that when the city went dark for fear of the bombs, anyone in the park would never be seen again. Now those oldsters claim that the Bombing Cloud has returned, perhaps awoken by the recent terrorist activities in the city. But the old folks in the local neighborhood have begun to refuse to leave their homes at night. Claiming the bombing cloud occurs only on the darkest nights, and that during the blitz bodies were found drained of blood, their hearts, lungs and organs eaten away by some horrible thing. Police have so far refused to investigate because there have been no official missing persons reported. They consider it mere local superstition. |
| Your shit is going to break. Face it and move on. #778899 | |
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| Clarice Harris | Monday, 1. September 2014, 14:05 Post #101 |
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Sexually abused by a Jew
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The moment her chin drown in the filth she started regretting she's not taller. She heard one of the women crying out from the upper levels, but even if someone wanted to pay her a little fortune for opening her mouth, she wouldn't do it. The idea of muck getting inside her mouth was disgusting enough, she could only guess that breathing the fumes would shock her nose with foul odor Clarice continued searching for some fairly stable spot, be it a rock supporting her feet, a crack in the wall or some loose brick, large enough to grab it with her fingers and keep herself from drowning. While she could swim, it was much more difficult in a liquid thicker than regular water, with dead rats and who knows what else bouncing off her body. Judging from the lack of movement in the basin, she was alone in there. Wasn't Mr. Keller standing right next to her before the floor collapsed? Where the hell did he go now? |
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| Margo Moreau | Tuesday, 2. September 2014, 05:08 Post #102 |
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Rebel Toreador
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"Fucking hell" Margo muttered bitterly. She could hear Harris sloshing around in... what must be something awful based on the smell. Margo looked at Keller, hanging there... wondering if he was going to fall or let Harris face whatever might be down there alone. Margo didn't have long to wonder about it however before the taunting voice came. Margo felt her hackles rise at the taunting. This was getting intolerable. Getting eaten by dogs was one thing... rats in a maze? No fucking way. No FUCKING way. "Whatever that is... I'm going to make it eat its tongue before I fucking kill it." Margo called down into the pit "We'll try to find a way down to you." Margo glanced at Keller again before turning and starting down the hallway. Apparently her only choice. Margo would keep going, keeping her [Auspex] senses sharp, watching for more... traps. She advanced several meters... stopped and listened; then continued. Margo kept Franca in sight behind her and continued on until she had more then one way to go. |
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| Franca | Tuesday, 2. September 2014, 08:01 Post #103 |
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A person
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No answer from her mates on the other side. Franca looked at what they were doing: Clarice looking for something in that horrible muck, Max hanging at the bars and apparently waiting for his destiny. She was about to tell Margo they -had- to go down the tunnel without any other hesitation, when the singing voice came to taunt them. If you go into to the pipes today/You're sure of a big surprise. Whoever - whatever - was singing was definitely not hiding from them, most likely confident in their stranght... nevertheless, they had to face them, no other choice. And damn, if she really had to die down there, she would have rather died fighting than getting torpid while sewer rats walked on her weakening body. She cringed at the thought. Margo spoke first, echoing her thoughts. Franca nodded and followed down the tunnel, keeping her flashlight in one hand and the other one ready to grab the dagger. Max and Clarice could only wait there, unless they found a way out by searching in the horrid pit. If Franca and Margo could defeat their opponent, though, they could still hope to find a way to rescue them. |
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| Max Keller | Tuesday, 2. September 2014, 22:16 Post #104 |
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Ancilla
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Might there be any way out down there somewhere? In any case Max had only two possibilities...to keep hanging up here or to let himself fall down. And if down there was no way out? Then it would be a lot more pleasant to stay up here. He was obsessed with cleanliness, that made him loathe any dirt and filth, even just the thought of being up to his ears in that stinking mass...horrible. Fighting against a dozen dangerous enemies would be a lot easier, he wouldn´t hesitate then, but now Max did hesitate... For now Max couldn´t yet let himself fall down there. The little glimpses of it that he saw were bad enough. And then there was suddenly someone singing. That someone was mocking them. Max got angry. With pleasure he would rip that someone apart. He wanted to cry out "Shut up", but when he opened his mouth and took a breath he closed his mouth again quickly, because of the nauseating smell. It seemed as if Franca and Margo were leaving. Surely nothing good was awaiting them either. |
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| Obstacles | Tuesday, 2. September 2014, 23:11 Post #105 |
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Childe
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From time to time as they moved through the shifting tunnels Margo might think she saw something, but they were black shadows and flickers only. Hard to define and never in great detail. Franca herself would see nothing, even when light was shone directly where Margo believed she saw a flicker. Max, would hang there. Nothing appearing to push him off the gate, but the metal stubbornly refused to give in to his twisting and struggling against it. Clarice's searching eventually did find a round stone, like a lid. The thing was open at the bottom and if she were stronger she might be able to move and crawl up the slick tunnel and leave the horrible slop basin. But it was clear that this was the normal entrance of the bloody shredded meat and so the tunnel was slick with slime, gelid remains of decaying meat and body parts, fungus and mold. Finally Margo and Franca would come to a large room, wide open and there, pinned to the wall was a twisted wretch. Bald head, clammy skin, huge fangs and bulging red eyes. Something had plucked the things eyes out, something had eaten the flesh of it's legs from the hips down. Thick iron bars had been bent and nailed into the wall like giant staples at the arms, hips, neck and torso, keeping the unmoving thing bolted to it's brick prison. There was an open circle like a well in the room, slick with mold and slime, rust red from regurgitation. The huge stone room looks like it might once have been an underground chapel of some kind. Stone columns scattered around a cathedral like chamber. There were piles of torn clothing everywhere. Piles of wallets, jewelry, a mockingbird's nest of odds and ends stolen from a hundred corpses and neatly piled. |
| Your shit is going to break. Face it and move on. #778899 | |
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| Clarice Harris | Wednesday, 3. September 2014, 14:52 Post #106 |
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Sexually abused by a Jew
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Having finally found something that looked like a lid, she stopped here, willing to inspect it closer. It was definitely too heavy to be lifted, unless there's a whole bunch of helpful hands. Or someone gifted with brutish strength, that someone who was apparently missing in action... Whenever a door couldn't be unlocked in normal way, it was usually possible to destroy the hinges. Those here were just massive, a good centimeter thick, cast of solid iron. She reached for her hammer and tried to dent it a bit, hoping it's rusty enough to give it up, but it was futile. It made her wonder how heavy is that whole thing, its weight sure did work against the wall it was mounted in. Destabilizing the bricks would take more than just that hammer; definitely the chisel and some really bloody sweat. From now on she had to work in the dark, having both her hands occupied with the tools. First few strikes, the result was next to none, yet she could hear tiny shards dropping into the water. Spending the next week in this pit, trying to dig her way through didn't sound like the best idea, and so she used a part of her blood reserve to deliver heavier blows Edited by Clarice Harris, Wednesday, 3. September 2014, 22:31.
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| Franca | Thursday, 4. September 2014, 12:59 Post #107 |
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A person
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Franca looked around the large room. She couldn't see as well as Margo, but still could not miss the unforunate thing that was pinned to the wall. It looked like a Nosferatu, but might have been some old deformed ghoul as well. In the latter case he was definitely dead, in the former he might have been a prisoner, or maybe even a trap. Margo, can you see his... aura, or whatever it is? She wasn't sure of how the Toreador's powers worked, exactly, but she hoped she could tell what the wretched thing was and possibly, if he was still undead, wheter it was dangerous if released. She would have moved to explore the place, for passages or anything relevant, but not before Margo had the time to check the place with her powers. Indeed, Franca wouldn't have been surprised if the chamber had been hosting an obfuscated crowd. OOC note
Edited by Franca, Thursday, 4. September 2014, 13:15.
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| Max Keller | Friday, 5. September 2014, 11:10 Post #108 |
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Ancilla
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Suddenly there was not light to be seen any more down there, but he heard strikes of some sort. What was going on? Max managed to get his own flashlight out with one hand, put it on and tried to see what was going on down there. But he couldn´t see much. Maybe he should go down there after all. If there was a way out then it was only there. Max finally managed to overcome himself and let himself fall down, holding his arms upwards, holding tight to the flashlight. He couldn´t help that an inarticticulate cry of disgust left his mouth as he felt himself sucked up by the muck. He was trying not to sink in with his head and arms. The light was still working, and Max used it to find the Malkavian and started to work himself into that direction, which wasn´t easy in that muck. "Have you found something? I´m coming." Max had the feeling to be suffocated by the stinky air he breathed in while he was talking. Of course he couldn´t suffocate any more, he told himself. But talking was definitely not a good option down here. |
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| Margo Moreau | Friday, 5. September 2014, 21:11 Post #109 |
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Rebel Toreador
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Margo did take a long moment to examine the poor wretch on the wall. She winced at whatever she saw. Margo whispered to Franca "It is a kindred. The only color I see in it's aura is pain. Just... pain." Margo carefully looked over the room with her sharp [Auspex] eyes and ears. She started moving ever closer towards the kindred crucified on the wall. Was it awake? In torpor? Poor, wretched thing. Margo glanced over at Franca "I am going to try a few tricks. Hopefully I wont freak out. Just be... ready." Unless Margo had seen anything to cause her to reconsider, or Franca objected Margo would first use [Auspex: Spirit's Touch] looking for a place where the kindred's blood had flowed and stained the floor; but still keeping some distance from the wretch. Then, Margo would again shift her sight through the veil and see what spirits might be haunting this room. She braced for more mindless, hungry haunts... but should one remain that could speak to the horrors here... Edited by Margo Moreau, Friday, 5. September 2014, 21:14.
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| Obstacles | Friday, 5. September 2014, 21:38 Post #110 |
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Childe
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Clarice manages to batter through the bricks holding the lid on the chute, though it takes her some time. The bricks are old and crumble under her hammering. The lid drops off and reveals a pipe slick with rotting meat, gelid organ chunks and half congealed blood and water. The tunnel is round and just wide enough for a person to slither up, if they keep themselves tight and are willing to squish their way through the muck to get there. But it looks like a long slippery climb that could well take some time. Faintly from above women's voices can be heard, whispering. There is no other way out of the pit and the no way to get out up the tunnel without becoming completely coated in slime, flesh and filth. Mold and fungus coat the walls, where they have been growing upon the refuse vomited down the pipe regularly enough. Margo examines the poor creature pinned to the wall, but it is hard to tell what condition it is in. It sits unresponsive. Unmoving, unbreathing, no heartbeat. But that could mean nothing, given the Nosferatu's tortured state. It does seem to have dried blood and fur around it's mouth, but the stains are old and it seems to have mold growing on it's chest from other bloody drips that were never cleaned away. When she used spirit touch however, Margo was blasted with an explosion of sensation. Visions of people screaming as teeth gnawed into them, ripping flesh away. Hunger, aching endless mindless hunger that refused to relent. A creature that gorged and vomited flesh over and over again, endlessly seeking to sustain itself and end the hunger that torments it. At that moment a figure hidden by Obfuscate leaps from behind a column and swings a stake at Franca's back. The creature waited until the last moment to allow it's mystical stealth to drop away, and had been hiding behind the column and out of Margo's sight line, waiting for it's chance. It possessed massive strength [Potence 5] and wielded the length of wood, which was much the length of an old combat musket, with skill as it aimed to impale Franca through the back and stab her heart. "mine mine mine mine, you'll all be mine!" When Margo recovers from the horrible visions invading her mind she'll see the creature. A tall figure, pale and naked, gaunt and starving in appearance. It's lips extended back almost to it's ears, revealing huge fangs and gnashing teeth. It's bald head twisted back like a banana and it's eyes were rotted shriveled things that were milky and red. It's ears were torn nubs. It was obviously male, and disturbingly it also seemed aroused by the violence it was perpetuating. |
| Your shit is going to break. Face it and move on. #778899 | |
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| Franca | Sunday, 7. September 2014, 10:49 Post #111 |
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A person
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FUCK. There was pretty much the only term that applied to the situation. Not that Franca had much thoughts for verbal clarity as a something-something out of something hit her from behind, as unexpected as one could be. No - she could only feel a sharp -something- piercing through her back to her heart, and herself losing grip of her limbs and faculties. Fuck, indeed. Will she survive and have the chance to grasp the unintentional innuendo in all its unpleasantness? By now, she could only hope for someone to rescue her from that predicament as soon as possible, whatever else was going on in that place.
Edited by Franca, Sunday, 7. September 2014, 13:07.
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| Margo Moreau | Sunday, 7. September 2014, 13:33 Post #112 |
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Rebel Toreador
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Margo blinked as she cleared the horrid vision. Then she blinked again hoping to clear the horrid visage of the... STAKE STAKE STAKE! Margo felt a stab of fear in parallel as she saw Franca impaled and fall to the floor. Fuuuccckkk... Margo burned her vitae to give her strength and speed... A lot of speed. The world seemed to slow down. Margo had heard a mouse down that chute that was probably Harris... it made intuitive sense to her that this hole in the ground led to pit that Harris and Max (possibly Max) were in. If she ran... trying to get him to chase her... he might just stay and behead Franca... or just pick Franca up and... There was only one thing that made sense to do. Something no self-respecting Toreador would ever do. Nope. Never. Margo bolted towards Franca and grabbed her on the way by... she dragged the Brujah along the floor and held on tight as she... GGGRRRRRROOOOOOSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!! ...dove down the disgusting maw in the floor, sliding and running and tumbling and falling with Franca in tow. |
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| Clarice Harris | Sunday, 7. September 2014, 14:20 Post #113 |
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Sexually abused by a Jew
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It looked like Mr. Keller finally made his way to drainage pit, but Clarice no longer cared, being busy with her hammering work. She leaped aside, avoiding getting hit with falling lid. As it could be expected, some tunnel, leading to upper levels. A scream was echoing through it, some new voice, voice of a madman seemingly... The bottom of the tunnel was covered in what seemed to be remains in state of advanced decay and a moldy mass of microorganisms feasting on dead tissue. The vaulting though, it was merely dripping with water, but at least it wasn't as slippery. She searched her bag for a pocket knife. It must have been possible to hook the hammer's claw and the small blade in some fissures and minor cracks, to slowly climb the tunnel. Two of her fingers were keeping a firm grip over the tools, while the rest of them wandered around the sides of tunnel, looking for any vulnerable spots. Slowly she was making her way through, ascending about 2 meters while something...or rather someone was sliding down the tunnel. She couldn't help but draw back, falling into the fetid pool again |
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| Max Keller | Sunday, 7. September 2014, 22:00 Post #114 |
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Ancilla
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Max was still trying to get through the muck, working his way slowly towards the Malkavian. Who vanished into a tunnel that led upwards. The Brujah reached the tunnel and had a look into it. His light showed him that it looked disgusting in there, too, and that Ms. Harris was making her way upwards. But then there was suddenly a voice. Max moved out of the way when he saw the Malkavian falling back towards him. He was confused. Whad had happened, why did she fall? |
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| Obstacles | Sunday, 7. September 2014, 22:11 Post #115 |
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Childe
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The bodies came shooting out of the tunnel fast, like cannonballs from a cannon. Margo's celerity sped jump and their combined wait, plus the slime and general filth coating the tunnel had formed a sort of rotting flesh frosting that coated them all in a moldy grease and sent the vampires hurtling down the tunnel and out the opening. Flinging them over towards the deeper end of the goo infested pit, well over head height of sewer water, rain run off, mold, rotting flesh and rat carcasses. Fortunately there were no heavy stones from the collapsed floor for them to smash into. Though the impact of their bodies did create a wave that sloshed across the pit and doused Max and Clarice from head to toe in the slimy muck and goo. The rats squealed and vanished through tiny holes and cracks. From the tunnel mouth came the sound of trickling fluid, a mad cackle and the strong scent of gasoline. The fluid did not reach down into the tunnel far enough to reach the pit, but a flicking sound echoed down the opening and with a brilliant woosh the inside of the tunnel burst into rancid flames. Filling the air with harsh black smoke and blooming like a mouth of hell. The flames were pumped as though by a great bellows, sending jets of flames into the pit, though so far not closely enough to harm anyone. Still, for the vampires it was a horrible thing to face. Enclosed in a small space with a flame belching mouth their only visible means of escape. Could they face the red fear when so many of them were already feeling the gnawing hunger in their bodies that indicated the need to feast? Between burps of flames came the cackling sound. Garbled singing. Whatever the twisted form at the top of the tunnel was doing, he seemed to be having a very good time. |
| Your shit is going to break. Face it and move on. #778899 | |
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| Margo Moreau | Monday, 8. September 2014, 03:04 Post #116 |
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Rebel Toreador
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Courage Roll The fire got Margo's complete attention and she could feel her beast crawling out of her guts trying to escape the flames. Margo hissed at the fire but kept her hands tight on the reins of her beast. "Get under! get under!" Margo yelled. To escape the flames Margo let herself sink into the fetid soup of shredded flesh, refuse and sewage. Much to her disgust the shit was thick all the way down. There were no floaters. Margo kept hold of Franca and brought her down with her. After 15 seconds or so Margo crawled up and peeked her head out of the sludge to see if the fire had stopped. If it had she brought Franca's head out of the shit as well, wrapped her legs around her for leverage and pulled out the stake. If the tongue of flames was still flaring out of the chute Margo sunk back into the mess and dragged Franca along. Trying again in another 15 seconds... |
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| Max Keller | Monday, 8. September 2014, 11:43 Post #117 |
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Ancilla
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It wasn´t just Ms. Harris who shot out of the tunnel, but also Margo and Franca, Max still saw that before he was hit by the wave of muck. He would have liked to curse loudly, but that would have meant opening his mouth and getting that awful stuff in his mouth. Frantically he tried to wipe off the slime off his face with his hands. And then it came even worse. It started burning, there were flames. Flames...the beast inside Max felt gripping fear and made Max retreat hastily towards the wall that was farthest away from the tunnel. Max felt the beast getting stronger and couldn´t totally resist its panic and urge to flee. The beast hadn´t taken over just yet, but for how long would he be able to hold it back? When Max reached the wall his fingers clawed it, as if trying to dig his way out of here. Edited by Max Keller, Tuesday, 9. September 2014, 19:07.
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| Clarice Harris | Monday, 8. September 2014, 17:03 Post #118 |
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Sexually abused by a Jew
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For a short moment Clarice had to struggle with the muck surrounding her body. She barely managed to swim to the surface, when a wave of filth engulfed her head again. Having removed part of the goo from her face, she could see a glow coming from the tunnel, rapidly growing in brightness. That color though... It didn't look like any artificial light. Before she could realize what's really going on, a flame erupted from the hole, making her instinctively leap backwards, as far away as possible. She was barely keeping herself on the surface, arching her back like a terrified cat. Hands were unwittingly clawing the walls around, looking for any escape route. She could feel her fangs extend and slightly open her mouth The room was finally getting well-lit, but she couldn't force herself to have a good look around. The struggle with her inner beast was already consuming all of her attention, some nasty memories that invaded her mind were only making it worse. It was definitely one of the worst summers she's ever experienced. First that clown who tried to burn her whole clan, now this. She wished to voice on the other side of that tunnel would finally shut up. Damn those arsonists, they're one of the worst mental fuck-ups this world ever bore... Edited by Clarice Harris, Monday, 8. September 2014, 20:47.
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| Franca | Monday, 8. September 2014, 18:13 Post #119 |
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A person
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WHAT THE HELL?! When eventually Franca had her stake removed, she found herself immersed in slimy muck, her legs stumbling into denser objects and her face covered in goo that prevented her from opening her eyes and dripped into her mouth if she tried to speak. She frantically removed the slime from her face and spent some blood to fix her wound until she could be functional, at least. As soon as she could see again, she realized she was in the same pit they had left before, together with other three slime-covered figures - most likely her mates. She remembered being staked. Had she been rescued? Had they all been dropped there by whomever was above? She could reconstruct the sequence only up to a point. If nothing else, she checked her weapons were still in their place. |
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| Bad Guy | Tuesday, 9. September 2014, 01:07 Post #120 |
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Childe
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Eventually the flames did die. The place was pitched into total darkness as the flailing vampires had neglected to keep their light sources close in the madness. A splash echoed. Then a hand snaked out, grabbing for Max's leg from under the sludge and muck and with great strength [Potence 5] sought to yank him under the muck. A machete slicing through the goo as the twisted pale thing swam among them and aimed to hack the distracted Brujah's arm free with its keen blade. Margo's torch, waterproof but sunk among the mire provided some light. Enough to reveal a tall gaunt pale colored figure. Skull twisted back like a banana. Huge fangs and extra wide lips. Ears shriveled to nubs. The starvation wracked figure vanished under the muck as it tried to drag the Brujah down with it. |
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When you came in the air went out And every shadow filled up with doubt I don't know who you think you are But before the night is through I wanna do bad things with you | |
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2:02 AM Jul 11