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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: |
| Dear Santa Claus, go fuck yourself; Brimsdown Industrial Estate | |||
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| Topic Started: Tuesday, 30. December 2014, 23:13 (451 Views) | |||
| Clarice Harris | Tuesday, 30. December 2014, 23:13 Post #1 | ||
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Sexually abused by a Jew
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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 | Tuesday, 6. January 2015, 23:33 Post #2 | ||
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Sexually abused by a Jew
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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 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! ![]() -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! ![]() 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 | Saturday, 14. February 2015, 12:58 Post #3 | ||
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Claiming Tsar
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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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Languages: Russian, Japanese, English, French, Finnish, German Oleg's Voice You may know me as Yuri Mikhailov or as Khoza. | |||
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1:15 AM Jul 11