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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: |
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| Just another night...; ATTN Ilya Senkin | |
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| Topic Started: Monday, 24. November 2014, 19:01 (1,188 Views) | |
| Clarice Harris | Wednesday, 14. January 2015, 22:03 Post #21 |
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Sexually abused by a Jew
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I see. If I only knew about it a bit earlier... The only news I heard was slow colonization of the North, first their shop opening, then that treaty. They hung copies all over London, inviting even more Cammies to hang around in here. And then they blew the Tripper up, I had no idea that the survivors are thriving now. Well, the only good news I have is that the Brujah couple fucked off to Scandinav--KURWA MAĆ! Limping through the flat surface of ground floor Clarice kept thinking that the left leg healed well enough, at least that was the treasonous illusion of stability. The stairs proved how badly she overestimated her limbs' endurance. Left knee cracked while she tried to lift her body a step higher, almost making her fall on her face. She got up in no time, clenching her jaw out of pain and frustration. Such humiliation, right in front of a newly met man who happens to be one of the very few reasonable people out there. She couldn't fuck up anymore, not on this night... With pure madness radiating from her eyes and driving her fist, she punched everything back to its place and held tight grip over the joint, stabilizing everything so that it could be safely glued together. Healing injuries almost becomes a pleasant process, when one no longer worries about bleeding, swelling or inflammation. There's only pain, but everyone learns to cope with it, as the time passes and the trauma counter ticks Shit, sorry for that. Now I don't even know what was I talking about now... Eh, never mind The upper floor was quite odd. It resembled the workplace from hell, large space composed of office cubicles came to her mind, just to be replaced by a picture of prison cells. It wasn't so different from poultry farms, where chicken cages were stored in rows and columns. Maybe that was Yuri's human farm, only rougher than what can be seen in sci-fi movies. Not bad, mortals themselves submitted to the same kind of slavery in communistic countries, living in microscopic, useless cages proudly called communal apartments. Luckily these days IKEA comes to rescue, with their big ideas for small spaces! Anyway, if Clarice owed anything to her distant past, it's most likely being used to spartan conditions Oh, now we're talking. If I didn't know about hospitality, I wouldn't get to see the entire continent and I wouldn't be here, talking with you. I owe you, I'll try to return the favor as soon as possible. Deal? The two psychos shook their hands, officially opening a new episode in their unlives. Majestic tales of their adventures would be passed among generations of mortals and vampires alike. Or maybe not. It was a shitty, overcrowded word, flooded with excess of information and overall degeneracy after all. For now Clarice did as pointed and entered the room, just to see that it was a sort of wardrobe. Untidy...and very specific one. Local sex shops' finest, enough to stay on par with luxurious bordellos. But what could be expected of Yuri if not full professionalism? She swallowed what remained of her pride and reluctantly stepped closer to the racks and tables full of skimpy clothes. She'd never guess that some day wearing that kind of rags will become a must. But at the same time she knew that everything could have gone much worse. Being submitted to interrogation and brainwashing, becoming a mental slave, being tortured and killed in countless ways, being held captive until hunger makes her fall torpid or, worst of all, being devoured. No, her situation was relatively good and somewhere between the shards of hurt ego, there was a spark of gratitude. Best she could do was to try to have some fun with what she was given. Looking through the outfits, she found something not only fitting her height, but also bringing distress and a very weird kind of fun. A parody of police uniform, defiling all authority associated with the officers. That was it, her little opportunity to show what she thinks of the mortal law enforcement. It was almost perfect, only a little loose around her hips and butt, not to mention the breast cups that were totally out of her league. Else than that, perfect match. The high-heel imitation of boots was completely useless, far from being anyhow functional, something to pass on. The proper kind of footwear were her old working boots, taken away by this ghoul. Well, that couldn't be helped for now. Seeing the final result she couldn't help but laugh For one night I get to be the law, who would have though? The host leads, so Clarice follows. To the mythical bottom level. She didn't even know if it was the ground level or some basement, no windows or any other signs that could indicate it. This place was big, no doubt, but the absolute lack of waypoints only made it seem bigger. Red zone. So that must have been the very heart of his kingdom, his private chambers. Among those who still remembered the old traditions, letting a guest in was the biggest gesture of trust and she could appreciate, even if she wouldn't express it. It was probably the first time she found herself on the other side of surveillance system, in the central hub gathering data from the CCTV cameras she hated with such passion. She stopped there for a moment, curiously looking at monitored places, most of which seemed to be important establishments, some of them familiar, most remaining unknown. Yuri was already walking away, she grabbed him arm, being almost ready to follow, and yet eyeing in direction of the screens and other electronics You don't simply let the Cammies in anymore? How much of the North do you really control now? Looks like you could use someone on the streets. I don't know a damn thing about electronics, those fucking security systems drive me nuts... But I know how to get in various places, without being noticed. That's how I make a living. Oh and... I have no problem with sleeping on the floor, that's how I spent most of my life She smiled sincerely, even if left side of her face didn't allow a pretty, wide grin. For some reason he was trying to avoid her eyes but she couldn't blame him. Most people would use the mirrors of the soul whenever possible and mess with the mind as much as they can. If she could only prove that she's not even capable of such manipulation... But how does one prove the negativity, the lack of existence or occurrence? |
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| Tsar Ilya the First | Monday, 26. January 2015, 21:08 Post #22 |
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Claiming Tsar
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Ilya caught Policewoman Clarice peeking the monitors and the electronics. He approached the control console, and started changing the views. The monitors showed several points of Enfield and Haringey, in low quality. Every now and then, a low fidelity thermal image got by. "Not all of the North. Just parts of it. But I need to control more. It's a necessity, unrelated to paranoia. Look, I have some thermal cameras in specific points. Not that many; they are costly. Comparing the thermal image with the regular one, you can sometimes detect when one of our kind walks by. Feel free to poke in. Having someone on the ground would be a great asset, yes. I try my best to be updated with all the movements in the area, but it's just too big. I don't have any authority to actually keep the Capes out; I could ask for it, but it would never work. All I can do, so far, is maintain a census of visitors, the people who are more usually on the area. It's a long term plan, still in the making. If you were to accept carrying a camera on you, and actively try to find out who is moving around this area, that could mean a giant leap forward." He approached the computer and turned it on. "You say you had enough with the people from the Tower? We need smart and able people here. We need guys who can make sure we retain our independence, and who don't fall for easy concessions and cheap tricks. People of substance." The computer screen lightened up with some few sparse icons. They were labelled with cryptic chains of letters and numbers, not proper names. Ilya opened one of those icons. A webpage opened. Pictures of giant penises and overtly pneumatic women flooded the screen. Bodily fluids, flashing calls to action, and scammy offers all over the place. He seemed to ignore all of that while he scrolled down. "This is part of what I'm working on. An Anarch Network. Just getting past this thing... Here." He scrolled to the end of the page, and clicked on the line that read "18 U.S.C. 2257 Record-Keeping Requirements Compliance Statement", and a new web opened, asking for a name and a password. The webcam light flashed red. While still speaking, Ilya entered a username and a password, both long chains of seemingly random characters. He opened his right eye wide and put it in front of the webcam. "It's a hidden Network, for people like you and me. Using this system, you can communicate with us, and take part in the decision making process of our community. See? So far, we are just a small bunch of people, but I hope we'll make this grow. I believe we need to keep this sort of tool at reach, and stop relying on old face to face meetings. If we want to thrive, we need to adapt, right?" The network opened in front of Clarice's eyes. It did not look flashy, or even pretty. Just a black background, with a text only menu in white. Simple, old school, and functional. Now it was obvious. She was in the heart of the beast. With the knowledge she had at that point, she could either become a part of it, or die. "So, what do you think?" |
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Languages: Russian, Japanese, English, French, Finnish, German Oleg's Voice You may know me as Yuri Mikhailov or as Khoza. | |
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| Clarice Harris | Tuesday, 27. January 2015, 17:00 Post #23 |
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Sexually abused by a Jew
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The Vault Overseer did his magic and took direct control over more and more electronic eyes. It was pretty surprising, to see that the quality of video feed was as low as about 15 years ago, no wonder so many small time criminals could easily get away with every offense. Clarice kept it to herself, but by her non-techy mind's logic, it should be possible to install some better cameras at quite decent price. Of course she couldn't have known about limitations imposed by computers processing the monstrous amounts of data. Even such aristocrats as Yuri could hardly afford a NASA rig in their basement Don't trust your thermal cameras too much, you would be surprised to see how many Capes keep warming up their bodies, pure goddamn waste... And they have it even easier during the summer. I can see their auras, these never lie. Mortals glow like neons, our light is faint. If you want I can follow anyone who looks suspicious, record their moves and so on. I'm getting a new car pretty soon, you can install a dashboard cam if you want too She knew Yuri was saying something about the Tower and people and stuff, but curiosity over electronics was too strong. If she was to judge, she'd say that his computer was a professional hacker tool or something, totally not what you see among casual users. The visuals were just not as friendly as in systems designed by big corporations for intuitive navigation. First familiar thing was the interface of a web browser, just scaled different than on her tablet's small screen. Seeing how the porn site loaded, she couldn't contain the laughter Your productions by chance? But the explanation was a bit confusing. Anarch Network? Here, on such site frequented by millions of mortal porn-addicts? Then some disclaimer that nobody ever looks at did the trick. She had some vague idea about redirection, about enough to know that people could always send her from one site to another, that's in fact how she was finding most of entertaining stuff. But she had no clue how that thing even works. And then some really weird shit happened, it felt like being part of a movie, except the actors were not all so pretty. Cryptic passcodes, retina scan... What the... You're all just hiding in plain sight, like that? And the moles didn't yet find out? Fuck it, I'm in. Hey, you have that police hat too? Suddenly her face became stupidly distracted from what could be considered to be the serious business here. If that wasn't bad enough, her index fingers were pointing at her tousled hair |
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| Tsar Ilya the First | Saturday, 31. January 2015, 12:31 Post #24 |
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Claiming Tsar
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The girl seemed to know her security. Ilya had not considered the thermal cameras problem, as he could never understand why would any Kindred raise their body heat to look like a flesh machine. But they did, and that was a fact. "You are right. I will put a camera on your car, if you don't mind. I need more eyes on the street, and these security cameras are not very reliable. I get a hint of what happens out there, but it's all bits and pieces, fragments of information that is never complete or comprehensive. I need to have a better understanding of what happens in the streets of Enfield." She seemed interested in the Network. That was good. He needed more ready and able associates, people who could chip in with their own perspective, and who would volunteer for any necessary tasks. In a few minutes, he signed her up, allowed her to register her username and password, and got her iris picture on the database. He offered her a brand new smartphone from his box. Directly imported from Russia. With a pay as you go SIM card, and the Network's client software already installed. When the whole Networking process was finished, he walked towards his closet room. There, lying on a corner, there was a lead pipe. He grabbed it, and turned towards her. "Now, you have some explaining to do. I've run you over with my van, and your reaction was odd. You have to show me what is it with you and pain." He walked towards her, with the lead pipe in his hand. |
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Languages: Russian, Japanese, English, French, Finnish, German Oleg's Voice You may know me as Yuri Mikhailov or as Khoza. | |
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| Clarice Harris | Thursday, 26. March 2015, 00:10 Post #25 |
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Sexually abused by a Jew
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Fine, I'll let you know when I finally get this banger. Oh man, I wish I could import some Lada, these are so simple and reliable... Hey, you were calling some cop tonight, right? Let's say you could easily obtain legit plates - would you? That network... What could be seen on the screen seemed like tiny particle out of infinite void, something beyond comprehension. It was scary and fascinating at the same time, but for now her choice was simple - sign up or die. And so she created her personal ID. Quick, troubled look around. No pen or anything that could be used to write the password down. Not wanting to look like a total fool she just scratched the alphanumeric sequence on the inner side of her wrist. Now the eye scan, it felt like having own fingerprints registered in police database, only slightly less shameful. Only a total idiot would leave the fingerprints behind, right? Clarice accepted the smartphone, even though it wasn't the police cap she asked for. Unsure by which cultural habits Yuri abides, she just chose the more common option, which is enjoying the gift right away. What was the point of making them smaller than tablets if they still don't fit in your average pocket? How does that thing differ from tablets, beside apparent size and SIM card socket? What was her new number? So many questions, and Yuri just walked away. One would expect it was somehow related to the network, but apparently it wasn't. That pipe spoke of different story. Before he even spoke, Clarice has put the phone down on the desk, not wanting it to be damaged during whatever was going to happen now And I thought you're used to being tough... Two things before we get started. I don't know how much more I'll be able to take, at least tonight, so you better grab a stake or make sure you've got some place to lock me up. Lead- That's lead, right? Lead in the heart doesn't work, I tried, not so long ago. Now second... Ah right. Tomorrow I'll be thirsty as fuck and I don't want to hurt you or any of your bitches, so think about evicting me in a safe way. Later on...I'll manage. So, now comes the beating. I'll tell you - it's just my limbs, they feel a bit numb. I don't know what's wrong, neural damage, some curse or whatever. Don't get me wrong, they do hurt, just less than say stomach or ribs. I don't know what kind of people you were dealing with before, but here, right before you, stands someone who did enough dirty jobs. They say that you know you're alive as long as things hurt you. And if you've got half a brain, you'll get used to that pain instead of letting it drive you insane. But whom am I trying to cheat, if everyone says I'm batshit insane, then there must be something to it. Aight, enough is enough |
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| Tsar Ilya the First | Wednesday, 15. April 2015, 13:05 Post #26 |
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Claiming Tsar
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He just stared at her, for the first time looking at her in the eye. "Don't worry. This will hurt." For half an hour, he did his best to test the limits of Clarice's tolerance to pain. He started, as she suggested, in the limbs, and then slowly approached her torso and her head. He repeated the same questions over and over again. "Does this hurt? Does it hurt more like this? Less? What about this? Hurts?" He was cold and impersonal, non compromising. But not scientific either. As if he was taking the data, but not writing it down anywhere; it seemed that the data was not as important as the act of extracting it. There was definitely something deeply fucked up about this whole ritual. Every few blows, he looked around him, checking the corners of the room, and measuring them with his own hand in the distance. As if he was trying to test the consistency of... reality... around him. He seemed as satisfied as he could seem given the circumstances. After half an hour of beating, he dropped the lead pipe, and stared at her, he was apparently trying to find an answer to some question that didn't make any sense out of his own mind. He made a decision. It was a decision based on honour, no less. He raised his right hand to his face. He closed the hand, and started digging in his right eye socket. A soft moan escaped his mouth. After thirty agonizing seconds, he pulled his own eye off. He dropped the eye beside Clarice. "Have this. You've earned it." He grabbed his phone, and sat in the floor, beside her. He made a call. "Sending you an address. Come here. Now." He started typing a couple of messages. The first one was for the man he had just called. The second one was for Rostik, letting him know that some guy was going to come knocking at the door in the next half hour. He turned towards Clarice. His face looked absolutely alien, without the eye. "Food will arrive soon, don't worry. You'll be whole again soon." He stared at the wall, in silence, thinking about what had just happened. |
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Languages: Russian, Japanese, English, French, Finnish, German Oleg's Voice You may know me as Yuri Mikhailov or as Khoza. | |
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| Clarice Harris | Wednesday, 15. April 2015, 19:29 Post #27 |
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Sexually abused by a Jew
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Clarice almost locked eyes with Yuri. Almost, because the first blow came about as fast as expected #1 - left thigh The muscles suddenly refused to work, only sharp reflexes saved her from falling, as the right leg took on the body's weight I'll manage- #2 - left knee Something snapped on both sides of the joint, what an unfortunate and accurate strike. With a hiss she dropped on her right knee, briefly supporting herself with the left hand Well shit #3 - left arm Another bone just broke, making the whole arm look like a slightly twisted twig. Having lost support, Clarice dropped on her back with a dull sound that almost obscured her teeth grinding That was a dick move man #4 - left forearm A very twisted twig with cracked bark. She tried not to wince, but one of her lip corners just twitched, almost synchronizing with the fingers At least it wasn't the right one... #5 - right wrist She only just started raising this hand, while it got struck. The palm hung loose. Another hiss, louder this time. Yuri looks around for the first time, she responds with a wry smile You're really fucked up #6 - right hand's fingers It sounded more or less like chicken bones crushed in a grinder. Fingers lost their usual shape, the nails were coming off the skin Yeah, that fucking hurts #7 - left side The ribs broke too easily, instantly turning into shards piercing the stomach and the bottom of lung. Her whole body jerked, letting out a short groan Not the stomach... #8 - solar plexus What air was still remaining in her lungs, was now rapidly forced out with a disturbing sound. For a brief moment she couldn't take a breath. Yuri did that weird thing again, reaching out to...something unknown Hurts...like-a-bitch #9? - collarbone and voice box That pipe slipped too much, rending her unable to speak. She found herself biting on her own arm. Perception was beginning to get a little blurry. Head straight, now facing him directly. The lips formed silent words in a language he probably didn't know I'm going to fucking kill you #11 or maybe 12 - mandible A little more strength and her head would be already flying loose. The left side of her jaw was crushed, leaving that side of face to be a shapeless mess. Broken teeth were rattling when pushed about with tongue Enough... Number unknown - cranium Blackout. Only Yuri knew how long it lasted and it seemed he took it for the "stop it!" signal. There was a dent in her temple, but the whole skull was hurting so badly she could barely keep her eyes open Now you finally know? An eyeball. Her prize. She had to act fast, before it disintegrates. At least it narrowed down her regeneration priorities; without thinking much she fixed her right hand and grabbed the eye with utmost care, barely sensing it between her fingers. Apparently the iris was grey, or something like that So that's what they look like... How does one communicate while the ability to speak or gesticulate is so heavily impaired? Repairing everything at once was out of question, though there was a way... Those nails were beginning to get annoying, with a quick motion of thumb she removed them all, one after another. Then she opened her mouth and rummaged through this bloody mess, collecting all the loose elements. All the broken teeth, a handful of them. She passed them to Ilya's hand, giving him a meaningful look More phone calls, did he just order some food? Like mortals order a pizza? And she thought nothing would surprise her at this point... Now she was just lying there, lifeless. Deep inside wishing for a fancy regeneration chamber from those space movies and slowly healing the crucial injuries - her digestive tract |
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1:15 AM Jul 11