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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Dear Santa Claus, go fuck yourself; Brimsdown Industrial Estate
Topic Started: Tuesday, 30. December 2014, 23:13 (451 Views)
Clarice Harris
Member Avatar
Sexually abused by a Jew
* * * * *
Christmas was usually the time of sharing. This year Clarice's budget was much greater than last time, it seemed really promising at first. This year she also had no friendly soul left in this huge city, beside Yuri. And this guy seriously deserved some compensation, there was something that seemed appropriate, but that would be her worry on another night. It was the night of December 27/28 when Clarice finally made a gift for herself - 2001 Vauxhall Omega B2, still with its original silver paint. Wherever you go, drive what locals drive. Every shopping assistant would sure advise not to buy this piece of shit: It's so old and used! It's not children-friendly! It lacks all fancy electronics! And don't forget to check our New Year's catalogue!. It didn't matter to her in the slightest, as long as it works and parts don't fall apart, it's good and fully functional

She was really lucky to find a seller here, in Enfield. While she knew more or less what to do with motorized cart called Lada, she would still need a while to figure out how the western cars really work. And there was even a good place for training - huge concrete yard, right south from Makro (be cursed your entry card), by King George's Reservoir. During the weekends nobody seemed to be loitering around the whole area, especially now, in the holiday season. Only a total sucker wouldn't seize the opportunity to intrude private property... The casual drive from point A to B was not that difficult, even if keeping it under 30 mph was quite annoying. Or maybe those were just the crowded streets of metropolitan area. And traffic lights every few meters. And the need to watch out for cattle at every crossing. And stupid cameras planted with sole purpose of getting the cops to trace every little violation. If by the end of 80s people were already warning of diminishing freedoms, what would they say about London entering 2015 AD?

At last, the turning from A1055 Mollison Ave to Stockingswater Lane, no more eyes of any kind, be it organic or electronic. The last warehouse in the area it was. Out of usual burglar's caution, she pulled over before potential trespassing and scouted ahead. Clear. Something was telling her that there won't be a living thing at least till 4 AM...
Let the fun begin...
What a windy night. Cold, refreshing air filled her lungs, just to be slowly exhaled. Winter was clearly coming, it was time to do some more shopping, clothing-wise. Above all a new jacket, safari one maybe, it seems to fit the wilderness that London has become. Meanwhile Clarice found herself back in the car, slowly moving towards the playground, unwittingly riding the clutch. Suddenly her body dropped catatonic, the car rolled a few meters and stopped

-The fuck you doing?
-What?
-Take your leg off that pedal already!
-What's your problem with that?
-Back the fuck off already, bitches can't drive
-But I can, I brought us here!
-You don't even know what the bloody clutch is, get lost
-Chris wai-


It was decided - Chris took over for the remainder of night. The body came back to motion, with whole new mannerism and new shape given by the power of the mind. Without waiting a second longer, he proceeded to the real test drive. Acceleration, initial adjustment to the gears of this particular vehicle. Deceleration, engine braking and delicate test of reverse process. With only minor impediments, he got the most of it. A few circles to master the control under simple circumstances, to imprint the adjustments in neural paths and subconscious mind, to automate this small part of driving abilities. As the subconscious began to take over, he finally realized that the radio was off the whole time. The device greeted him with some degenerate music. Chris didn't expect much from a random station in modern days, but as he cycled through frequencies, it was only becoming worse. With almost furious gesture he shut the device down, hardly resisting the temptation to pull it out of the dashboard and silence it forever. And maybe see it flying too

Bloody hell, I need to bring my tapes the next time...

It was time to test the brakes, then check how his new baby takes sharper turns. No mercy, vehicle of a road warrior must be given the baptism of fire, only then it can be called suitable. With manic grin he had been performing increasingly reckless maneuvers, he didn't feel so free in ages. There were only a few feelings surpassing it, like driving through international highways or uncontrollable murderous rampage. That was his night, he was finally fully back in London. England was yet to be taken

A couple miles later Chris was ready to conquer the streets of Enfield. Time was pressing if the clock was to be trusted, the dawn could arrive before he finally arrives at that nice secluded place where his haven on wheels was parked. With a fresh dose of confidence, he left the industrial complex. The streets were at the peak of peace, cattle was finally back home or at least creeping in the dens of degeneracy, suffering the agonizing comedown that strikes after narcotic euphoria. The night was dying along with them, ground having lost all of the heat that accumulated during the daytime; air became a little frosty, but not much enough to tease the skin. It was still too early to get up for work and too early to come back home, straight from the night shifts. It was a solid reason to slow down and absorb all of this unique climate. That's the way it should be, everyone knowing their place. Deep inside Chris felt sentimental, but it was that odd kind of longing for the dream world, only to lesser extent - the past state of this world. The nostalgia train never arrives at home station, despite moving forward, the distance between it and the destination grows bigger and bigger...

-...totally like in expanding universe theory or some shit
-Piss off!
-How about we get home before that fucking sun illuminates the skyline?


Willing or not, he took the shortest route now, soon after he locked himself in the trailer and thankfully there wasn't too much time to think before the usual sleepiness hazed over the mind
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Clarice Harris
Member Avatar
Sexually abused by a Jew
* * * * *
In the beginning, there was only void. There was no light or darkness, no matter or energy, nobody to fill the role of observer. Then consciousness came to be, through a jinxed miscarriage a cracked spirit filled the void, but only after the shards fell apart self-awareness could loom up. The egos clarified their shape and assumed their human facade. The conscious mind rendered dimensions, one after another, increasing the potential for complexity of the universe. Three were enough to make the avatars physically appear and bind them in place, fourth to animate them, fifth to provide them with the power of manipulation. Only a master of current dimensions could transcend them and manifest in higher realms of existence. Two figures were floating in the dark, perceiving only own bodies. Any laws of physics were completely replaced by the rule of their minds, even if they didn't yet realize that

The girl's body shuddered, arms rose and reached out into the nothingness. It felt bad, being unable to interact, to touch anything. And here came the sensation, as of wish. Fingertips collided with an invisible wall, pure white light had spread out in a pulse, like circles on water. She snapped her fingers and all darkness turned into white, neutral light. She could grab it, shape it between her hands. And so she created orbs of colorful light, instinctively closing ideas inside the bubbles. They've spread in space, creating seemingly meaningless pattern. Then neon tubes connected them all in a large molecule, that was the mental map, the blueprint for identity
I'm Clarice, it's me and...
Memories of entire unlife flashed in her mind, now it was all clear. According to the timeline, she should be somewhere in north London right now. Orderly network of streets was rapidly drawn around her, rows identical houses with their micro-gardens appeared in free space, everything looked like a copy-pasted work of lazy programmer. Wherever she looked, the street seemed to have no end. Dark, cloudy sky spawned above, now the only light was coming from sodium lamps. Whichever way she'd go, she would keep finding herself in the same place, she was stuck in a loop. Another desperate attempt, she rushed to one of house's doors, a perfect lockpick spawned in her hand just when it was needed, but she didn't pay attention at all, focusing on petty details of the trap instead of looking at the trap itself. The building seemed to be quite ordinary, it was almost completely empty, but whenever her mind was about to realize that there's something wrong, regular furniture and other kinds of junk immediately spawned to suppress every shade of suspicion. And so she continued, attempting to break free by crossing the backyard garden, another house's doorstep and... She was on identical street, again. That nameless street, the buildings marked with no numbers and all possible numbers at the same time. Time
Wrong, all wrong...
To restore the time flow, she had to find the purpose. Back to most recent memories then. There, one of the houses. She rung the bell, the same man opened the door and greeted her in the same exact sequence. That's it, she was here to buy a car. She rolled the tape forward, past the annoying social part, now she was sitting in that Omega, heating the engine. Fast forward through the streets, to the warehouse district. The vision was becoming blurry and snowy, like in a weird crossover of a TV set losing signal and 3D cinema
...get lost!
Huh?
Chris knew, his very identity and vision of the world were very well defined. In no time he was marching down a perfect street, an odd mixture of interwar architecture filled with the vibe of the 70s. It was an alternate universe, a dream world where the patriots won. Where no subhuman scum dared to show up on the surface and displease the master race with their presence. Where European heritage was cultivated and rotten Zionist media were eradicated. Where Marxism existed only in old stories, as a warning of spiritual disease. Full of pride, he carried the Union Jack and another flag with Celtic cross. In no time he was followed by other uniformed men, among them were all those who devoted their lives to the good fight. The bodies of deserters and treasonous maggots were hanging from the street lights, displayed to the public so that their names will be forever condemned, both in spoken tales and in history books. Right now the street was teeming with white people, all of them heading towards the place where the great leaders reside. Everyone going to pay the honours, just like during celebration of a perfect national day...

Comrades, the voices of the dead battalions,
Of those who fell, that Europe might be great
Join in our song, for they still march in spirit with us
And urge us on that we gain the national state

The streets are still, the final battle has ended
Flushed with the fight, we proudly hail the dawn
See over the streets, the white man's emblem is waving
Triumphant standards of a race reborn


Something brutally pulled him out of there. He didn't hold the flags anymore, his parade uniform was replaced by the usual skinhead apparel. He found himself driving a car that seemed new and familiar at the same time. That situation was...unproductive. Without waiting any longer, he created a horde of enemies and proper tools of extermination. The carnage began. Car moved through the dirty crowd, the sound of crushed bodies and screams of agony was accompanied by Chris' manic laughter. He could keep going for all eternity, but something was wrong. The sense of passing time grew stronger and stronger, then it came to critical point. His car stopped right before a girl, a white one. He knew her, that was the worst
You bloody bitch, get lost!

The cars merged, Chris was still sitting in the driver's seat, Clarice spawned right beside. They were in the middle of nowhere it seemed, but it was the right place. The training yard. The place where it all begun and where it will end

-Chris what the fuck you're doing here?!
-I could ask you the same, can't you see I'm having fun here?
-Here... Where?
-You tell me
-Um... I remember driving to that industrial estate, then... I don't know, it got all fucky past that big store...
-Do you even have any goddamn purpose or just roam aimlessly like all fucking women go through their lives? I've been purifying the world here for fuck's sake
-Wait, I... I was supposed to learn how to drive properly
-What for?
-So the cops don't bust me when I'm driving around
-Around where? For what purpose?
-Well, here, the north. It's a mission, I think you were also invited
-Me? By whom?
-Yuri, obviously. It's not Yuri, it's... I don't know yet
-You mean that fucking Russian pimp?
-So you know him!
-WHAT IN THE BLOODY HELL?! Why are you all so stupidly affectionate?!
-Fuck off, I'm not!
That was enough. Chris tried to grab Clarice by her neck, strangle her, break her spine, anything to silence her forever. But his hands passed through her body as if it was a holographic picture. Actually they both were a sort of holograms, avatars of the same mind, trapped in a dream. If they only knew...
-Chris what the-
-Where the fuck are we?!
-I don't know, but we're trapped in here until we find-
-Purpose
-Y-yeah. So, back to the topic...
-(sigh) Alright, let's go with your pimp...
-(hiss) Yuri... Oh right! I was supposed to do something else on the next night
-So we have a goal now, shitty, but still... Just don't tell me you're going to blow him or something
-Fuck no! I'm going to get him a new car, I trashed his previous one after all
-Agh, thank fucking god...
-Wait. Can you feel it?
-Feel what?
-Look, it's almost 4 AM. Drive home, do it!

Posted Image

-Chris...
-Yeah?
-I think I'm going to wake up soon
-What?
-To the bed, no time to explain!

Chris only shook his head and followed the order, feeling totally resigned. He laid down on the mattress, fusing with Clarice's body. Then they closed their eyes. Once Clarice opened them, she found herself in the dark interior of a trailer, lying on a cold mattress. She could no longer manipulate the universe, this time the light was a slave to electric lamp. Her arm fought the gravity on the way to lamp's button. There, it was only her inside here, Chris was nowhere to be found. She woke up, for real

Aww fuck. Hahaha!

Posted Image

There she was, another house like many others, inhabited by mortal like all others. But he had something very special that she was going to claim. A black Jaguar X-type V6 Sport, the vehicle of a true eastern aristocrat. It was a quick and smooth deal, the guy was pretty happy to free his garage and earn an extra grand. It's so nice when it takes so little to make both parties happy...
Not much later she parked at Palace Gardens Shopping Centre and dialed the newest number on her her list:
Drop by Palace Gardens, I've got something for you
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Tsar Ilya the First
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Claiming Tsar
* * * *
Ilya never stopped marvelling himself at the pre programmed season of joy that was Christmas for the flesh machines. One thing was that he could perceive them for what they were -robots made of flesh, muscle, and bone-, but a very different thing was the fact that they embraced that mechanic quality, and even celebrated it in pre established gift exchanging seasons. Christmas was the epitome of that.

He was sitting in the back of Said's cab, being driven around Enfield and Harringey following a random pattern. In fact, Said's GPS was programmed with a custom app that literally directed him randomly, trying not to repeat any predictable pattern at any point. He spent hours every night in that seat, being directed around by the mystery machine that gave orders to Said in Moroccan Arab. Through the windows, he witnessed the calculated joy of the people gathered in the corners and in the pubs; the celebratory expressions drawn in the happy faces of the machines, all of them doing their best to demonstrate that they were in a similar state of bliss, for the machine that is unable to show off its own happiness to the rest will be singled out as broken, and socially inefficient. The self maintenance systems of the tribe of the machines were absolutely fascinating, as they did not allow any sincerity even in happiness.

He was lost in his thoughts, procrastinating in his inner world, when his phone ringed. It was Clarice, the roadkill he had hosted in his fortress not long ago. He was still pondering how wise had it been to let her into his haven, and how trustworthy she was. This could be a chance to find out.

"Something for me? I'm intrigued. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

Without even looking at the driver, Ilya grabbed the GPS machine, and punched some coordinates on it. Then he placed it back in it's mount. The Arab voice spoke, and Said turned. After fifteen minutes, they were parking in the Palace Gardens Shopping Centre's car park.
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Oleg's Voice

You may know me as Yuri Mikhailov or as Khoza.
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