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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Lone Wolf (Open, night)
Topic Started: Thursday, 15. January 2015, 20:05 (1,186 Views)
Garcia
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Fledgling
* *
Working alone had its perks. No one to boss you around. No one you had to look after. You could do whatever you wanted as long as you had the means to pull it off and had no one to worry about than yourself. Sure, it didn't compare to the company of like-minded individuals, but on some kind of bsic principle, it was not only a nice change but also an enabler.

On the other hand, it had downsides as well. No one had your back. No one to bounce things off from. No one was also lousy company. But most importantly ? If you hadn't suscribed to one of the member groups, people didn't send you any memos. Getting caught up in the east had been no nice surprise especially with all the things that had been going down recently. So the Australian had interpreted the signs of the time and moved out as long as it was still possible. He didn't doubt the new inhabitants (the heirs of the Sword, so to speak) were guys who'd hack him into bits and mince what was left before asking questions occurred to them. And he wouldn't risk his neck for something as feeble and fleeting as territory, especially as outnumbered as he'd found himself.

Newp, he was on his own now and therefore, he had had to realign his objectives. He didn't want any part in what was going on in the East and the other groups ? Hah, best not to think about that too much. So yeah, he was on his own. And what was the first thing to do when one was alone surrounded by the enemy ? Get clues on what was going on. And so he did.

The Tripper was gone, that wasn't new. he'd taken it upon himself to keep the area under surveillance, see who and what was around the corner, so to speak. Not without risks, but then, one guy more or less who went from place to place and made a few Pounds with his guitar. Nobody paid much attention to those, did they ? So here he was, sitting on his shabby blanket on top of a masoned fence, the guitar on his lap and goading a few notes out of it. He had to admit, since he had had lots of time to practice, his play had improved, if not by too much.

His hear was falling onto the collar of his leather jacket, building a stark contrast to the bits of the white t-shirt that was visible. His jeans were old and the worn sneakers dangled over the ground, next to a small cardboard cup with a few coins in it. So far the evening had been reasonably quiet, not much to see, but even if it turned out to be a dud, money was money and no news was also news, wasn't it ?
Romanes eunt domus ! - People called Romanes they go the house ?
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Clover Greene
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Aminal
* * *
Clover, equipped with her trusty camera, had taken it upon herself to explore London each night. To be quite honest, she did not want to have to use said trusty camera, but she also needed leverage. Information was power and proof was power, also---nobody had told her that, but she figured it must be true. With that said, after approximately two hours of “investigating” the local malls and fashion boutiques, she’d given up and was prepared to head back home.

It was on her way home that she’d saw him. The man was playing his guitar, and Clover liked guitar. Well, she liked playing the uke more---guitars just didn’t seem to fit with her style. One could argue that the ukulele was a more limited guitar, but Clover did not believe so. Charm---that’s what ukes had over guitars. She hadn’t brought brought either of her sopranos nor her tenor, which was a shame, because she’d seriously consider taking a different stone fence and trying to earn some spare change. It’s not like she needed money, but she was currently unemployed and she didn’t like that. At the very least she could trick her mind into thinking that she had something more… normal… to preoccupy herself with during the night.

The two looked quite different. Clover had a white toque and a creme wool coat. She looked… well, preppy. Even so, she’d place some change in the cardboard cup and mull around for a bit. She was in no great hurry to get home, might as well listen to a song or two in the process? Maybe later, she could ask if he would lend her his guitar---just to see if she still had it in her, it had been quite a while since she last practiced.
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Garcia
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* *
It had taken a while but then a new customer approached and put some spare change to the bit he already had. A nice gesture over here. A younger sort, a student most likely, uni or some higer school, old enough to be out and about this time of day. An interesting mixture. he was willing to guess she was good vamp bait, but luckily, this wasn't the east and he preferred his women a bit more mature than this. And with less cameras of course, never hurt to be safe.

"Thanks, Miss ! Anythign in particular I can play for you ? My repertoiree is limited, but I'll see what I can do. What keeps you out and about this time of the day ? Late out shopping ?"

He didn't do much to mask the bits that hinted at his accent. Perhaps it might help Clover place him, perhaps it wouldn't. To him, either way was fair game, he didn't particularly have too much to hide, apaert from his nature and the ultimate reason for his presence, of course. This girl however, looked a bit too healthy for most vampires. Might be bait, but then, bad luck for them, he wouldn't bite tonight.
Romanes eunt domus ! - People called Romanes they go the house ?
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Clover Greene
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Aminal
* * *
Clover’s lips curled into a reserved smile, but judging by her eager eyes she was quite enthusiastic with the prospect of getting a dedicated song.

With visible effort, yet surprisingly fast, she’d climb onto the fence herself, at an arm’s length distance away from the man.

“I’m on a secret mission for the government, sir, they want me to survey the area for a possible Starbucks coup d’etat. Do you know I’ve walked past a dozen of them in the last half hour? Something’s not right.” She’d say jokingly, not really looking at him, but with obvious amusement in her voice. She was making light fun of her situation.

“As for a song…” She seemed to ponder, “do you know ‘Paint it Black’, old man?” She grinned, “‘Cause if you don’t, I’m gonna temporarily abduct that guitar of yours.”
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Garcia
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Fledgling
* *
"It has really been awfully quiet, thats true. I wonder if Costa Cafe isn't already planning on a counter-offensive. You should keep an eye out for that. Prett a manger might also be a candidate. They won't let Starbucks take their turf just like that."

He chuckled and patted his guitar. Did he know 'Paint it black' ? Well, it had been one of the new things back then and he would have been hard-pressed not to know it. Especially seeing how people kept sort of associating it with 'Nam. However, knowing something was one thing, being able to play it was another. Somehow he didn't feel he was good enough for that yet. He sideeyed her carefully.

"My guitar ? Shes as good as married to me. You'll have to pry it from my cold dead hands, young lady!"

He laughed and passed it over.

"Here you go. I'm not good enough with her yet to play something like that."
Romanes eunt domus ! - People called Romanes they go the house ?
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Robyne
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-- Hound --
* * * * * *
{Robyne's Elysium Expedition: Night Three}

If ever there was someone who looked lost, it was this girl with the camera and nice clothes-- too nice for these dingy surroundings, Robyne thought. From a healthy distance-- healthy for both herself and this girl-- Robyne followed and observed the blonde as she made her meandering, wandering, sepentine ways through the obviously sketchy parts of Enfield. Robyne was no frequent visitor of these parts herself-- but she was no tourist either-- at least not the kind of tourist that enjoyed herself just wandering. Once in a while Robyne hears things-- rumors, gossip, or just talk on the howling wind each night and she goes off to see truth with her own eyes. There's been talk of trouble in Enfield... restless individuals causing a nuissance, random acts of violence and terrorism, and wanton acts of vandalism. People who should know better than to wander the streets late at night in this borough getting caught, snatched up, or chased down-- forced to learn the hard way never to go out alone at night.

The blonde looked pretty young and naive, Robyne thought, as she carefully climbed a fire escape to a second storey rooftop across the street. Looking at her and following her was like watching someone wave a white flag of surrender-- an open invitation for anyone to just come by and mug her or worse. Voices in the wind warned Robyne to keep a look out for things in Enfield-- if she happened to be passing through, that is.

Her two to three hours of bus hopping from Sutton into London on the first night... she enjoyed only so much... cramped seating, city noises, pollution, whinos, wierdos... constant stops to odd places that really un-nerved her... the brief visit to Elysium and Soho... kind of productive but so no informative... at least not as informative as she would have liked... and the makeshift shelter and terrifying first night in London... and now night three, this excursion to Elysium basically over, dawn still at least a few hours away, Robyne prepared her way back to Sutton... glad to be kind of rid of this city... though she still wished to see with her own eyes what was true and what was rumor or gossip about Enflied-- if only to get it out of her system at this point. Robyne was horrible with letting gossip and rumors lie unchecked-- especially when said rumors or gossip involved some rough elements that liked to exploit kine and treat them like collatoral damage. She could make a quick rounds of just Enfield center-- maybe not as thorough a rounds as back in Cheam Village, Sutton, but a good patrol all the same, she thinks. It was certainly worth her interest to make certain nothing happened to the blonde in the cream white wool coat. It would never sit well with her if she saw this young thing getting jumped from some narrow alley or back lot. It didn't take any stretch of imagination for her to consider what might happen to a young girl caught unprepared or unawares by some scumbag with jacked up libido and no sense of humanity or conscience. And there were plenty of scumbags in any city.

From atop of the pharmacy on A110, Cecil Road, overlooking the Town Park, with a so-so view of the Palace Gardens Shopping Centre just over her shoulders-- the Waitrose directly below her at a convenient angle-- Robyne had a sort of crow's eye view of Enfield center. The number of surrounding golf clubs, football pitches, and playing fields was kind of obnoxious-- she didn't consider them to be parks per se... golf courses were just well manicured snob hills that have been mowed over and decorated with holes here and there and sand traps and bunkers. A real park had trees, gardens, shrubs... and were left alone for animals to wander through without harassment. These open spaces insulted Robyne a bit-- they were gated, fenced in members only places for certain types... playgrounds for the rich and well-off.

Robyne's eyes return to focus on the blonde with the camera and creme wool coat. She was still on the move. Robyne followed from the rooftops... hopping from a pharmacy to the neighboring rooftop and so on... she would climb down one fire escape to climb another under the cover of darkness in a narrow alleyway... she'd pause atop a W.H. Smith's or atop some bank and look down and follow the young woman with her eyes then spring lightly across the roof of the shopping center plaza building and climb down another ladder to a narrow alley and casually make her way to the Enfield Baptist Church with a more direct view of the Town Park, Cecil Street, and the Palace Gardens Shopping Centre. She would climb a tree and stretch out upon a tall, thick limb and then lower herself upon the church's rooftop and crouch low beside the steeple, leaning among the trees beside the side of the sanctuary building so as not to be seen.

Now the young woman in white was walking along the mason fence just along the street. Someone was perched on that fence, with a guitar. Robyne sniffed the air. The girl stank of some fragrance, body wash, expensive shampoo or something... the guy smelled of all sorts of things worth worrying about. Robyne sniffed the air again and pressed against the church steeple and crouched even lower and tried to remain very still. Something was not smelling right with the guy strumming his guitar. Robyne had a feeling. She narrowed her eyes and watched and kept her silence. If he made any moves on the girl, she'd had to act fast.
Edited by Robyne, Sunday, 25. January 2015, 00:49.
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Clover Greene
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Aminal
* * *
A cheerful simper escaped her as he’d continue on with her joke---she was glad that she’d found someone cool to hang out with, and she would not hesitate to show this. He wasn’t exactly the type that would have been in her previous circles, but then again she didn’t have any ‘circles’ ever since that incident from so many months ago. She’d been starved for some company, and she wasn’t picky when it came to people; and this guy seemed, to her, great fun.

When he handed her his guitar, her lips curled into a mischievous smile. “I never said I could, either.” To demonstrate her point, she’d try to play whatever few notes she could remember from ‘Paint It Black’. It was pretty clear that she couldn’t. “Tricked you, huh?”

Before he could retaliate at her mischief, she’d begun playing the instrumental of something more familiar to her: Kaki King’s ‘Life Being What It Is’. Her fingers would instinctively avoid the thicker strings, and she’d mess up quite a few times (which was proceeded with a muttered curse, each time), but all-in-all it went alright. It sounded worse than she had expected, but she wouldn’t let herself admit to that.

Handing him back his guitar, she’d laugh meekly before apologizing, “I didn’t mean to drive off any potential patrons! My bad, it’s because my fingers are getting frozen, honest!” She’d smile sheepishly, “Can you guess whose song that was? I’ll give you a hint: singer had an LP with the Cooking Vinyl label a few years back---okay, that might be a little vague. She’s American, her last name is King. I’m also a fan of the khaki colour.”
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Robyne
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-- Hound --
* * * * * *
The twangs and pings and plucking of strings assured Robyne of two things: One, she wasn't in fact the worst person on a guitar, and two, she was just reminded that perhaps tonight she might be able to pick up some strings for her mandolin.

The two figures on the fence or low wall were going back and forth with the guitar, taking turns. That didn't seem particularly dangerous in and of itself but experience has taught Robyne all too well that nothing was ever as it seemed and no one should be judged by appearances alone. The guy didn't smell right to Robyne-- at least what she could pick up from the scents picked up when the wind blew right. It was also wierd to find him just sitting there on the low wall or fence like that kind of in the middle of nowhere sort of-- unless this was not usually so empty a place at this hour? Meh, what did Robyne know of this stretch of city anyway? He probably liked this spot better than the Town Park... less chance of getting told to move along by the police, she supposed. Still... a street performer could have picked a better spot, she thought.

What was going on down there, aside from music lessons and random twanging and strumming? Were they now flirting with each other? Robyne kept low and continued to crouch beside the steeple of the old Enfield Baptist Church. She couldn't see everything exactly... but it seemed like they were flirting with each other. Robyne had a pretty jumpy little hunch that the girl anyway, was flirting with danger. Something just wasn't right with this guy's scent and this picture she was seeing did not sit well in her mental frame of mind.





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Garcia
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Fledgling
* *
"Yeap, got me there. For I moment I really assumed you'd pull it off !"

He admitted that pretty freely, she had after all beaten him fair and square, so to speak. Murph didn't really recognize what she was plinking there. He was more like staying with the Classics. Thus, Kaki King didn't really ring a bell and he also didn't know the name in the first place, so he was lost in translation, so to speak. It happened. Some of the more modern things were in his line of work, but that didn't necessarily always inlude pop-culture.

"Nope, I'm drawing a blank on that one. Sorry ! I'm more into the stuff of my generation."

He chuckled and took his guitar back carefully and started the first chords of one of the easier things to play and remember. Simon & Garfunkel, not much of a popular thing nowadays, at least not as much as back then, but it was still good enough. He looked back over to her while his fingers moved over the strings. Hah, the work with practicing had paid off !

"So what drives you out here at this time of day ? Club visit ? Just a tourist ? Late shopping spree ?"

As Tim asked those questions, his atttention suddenly retracted from her and his eyes narrowed. He turned his head slightly and scanned the surroundings. Something was in the air. He didn't know what or why, but it almost felt like someone was watching him. he couldn't see or hear anything, so he returned back to his guest, but he now payed more attention to their surroundings again.

"Sorry, I thought I heard something."
Romanes eunt domus ! - People called Romanes they go the house ?
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Robyne
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-- Hound --
* * * * * *
'Cecilia... you're breaking my heart... you're shaking my confidence daily... oh-oh Celia, I'm down on my knees... I'm begging you please to come home....'

Simon and Garfunkel... this was the only song Robyne could think of as soon as the guitarist strummed upon it. It couldn't be helpled. This trip to Elysium had been kind of more than she bargain for and a lot less than she bargained for too... what a bust... she was pretty much broke and had just enough to make her trip to Sutton if she wasn't delayed or dumb enough to take the wrong train or bus.

It didn't look like there was anything to worry about down below... unless that blonde in the creme coat decided to pluck those strings again with her sausage fingers... meh... she shouldn't be so mean... but this whole idea she had in her head of what she could do, wanted to do, and going all lone wolf was just plain stupid... she should have known better... what a naive little twit she was... best to go back to what she knows... the little countryside village of Cheam, where maybe the worst thing she had to deal with was a few countryside drunks from out of town looking to cause some trouble in the woods.

Slowly and carefully Robyne crouched to find her strong tree branches to climb down... beside the Baptist Church... quietly...

That Simon and Garfunkel was infectious though... "Mmm mmm mmmhmmm making love in the after-noon with Cecilia... up in my bedroom... making love... I got up to wash my face... when I got back... someone else had taken my place..."

Robyne hopped down beside the church and froze and clamped her mouth shut with her hand. Her eyes widened and went drifting to the right, to the street.

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Clover Greene
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Aminal
* * *
She’d smile, listening attentively as he’d begin playing his next song. It didn’t matter to her whether he knew of Kaki King or not, she was more intent on hearing him play.

"So what drives you out here at this time of day ?"

She’d look up at the sky and ask herself the same question.
“Hmm...”
The ‘mission’ she established for herself seemed ridiculous, and more than likely to get herself killed. But what else could she do? Should she pretend that she didn’t know anything, and just go on with her normal life? She couldn’t do that, even if she tried. Not until she knew her family was safe once and for all. And for that, she needed something.
“I’m searching for something,” she’d say. “Something that will allow me blackmail a certain someone. It sounds ominous, but trust me, I’m not the evil one.” She’d smile again, looking at him again. “It’s much more hopeless than how I’m portraying it… I just don’t know what else to do.”

Suddenly she’d pat his shoulder and attempt her best Australian accent. “Sorry mate! I got myself sidetracked.” This was followed with a chuckle before returning to her regular speech. “I don’t mean any offense. I always thought Australian accents were cool, I’m just being a brat.”
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Garcia
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Fledgling
* *
Searching for something ? Well, who wasn't these days, after all- Wait, what ? He'd almost assumed he'd misheard, but then, the girl had been pretty clear and had said exactly what he'd understood. Prettycurious she was being so open about it, wasn't it ? Hecontinued to pluck the strings while he thought about whether he should inquire about it or not. It could be a trap, it wouldn't be the first time after all.

"I see, a bit like a PI. So thats what the camera is for ? Well, I'm clean !"

Hah, far from it, but over here, being an illegal immigrant was the least of his worries in more senses than one. He finished the song and put the guitar over his knees to concentrate back to Clover.

"People always say we don't sound too far off the Cockneys. Still have to find one to see if thats true. So no offense taken ! I'm glad enough you didn't take me for an American. I've seen enough people who throw all people talking funny into the drawer labelled 'American' bevause London seens to have lots of those."
Romanes eunt domus ! - People called Romanes they go the house ?
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Robyne
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-- Hound --
* * * * * *
'Whew', Robyne exhaled. 'No one heard me or sensed me. That was a bit close.' Carefully she retreats around a corner towards the other side of the church and heads away from the direction of Cecil Street towards Town Park. It didn't seem like anything was going to happen back there with the guitarist and tourist or photo enthusiast. Still, the guitarist did have a kind of wierd scent to him.

Robyne consulted her watch. At this hour, and in her current situation, it was probably best if she just planned her way back home to Cheam Village and keep as low a profile as possible. Someone was bound to contact her or answer the message she left at Elysium. She needed to prepare herself for a presentation to this Prince Blucher and find out if the Gangrel even had a Primogen here in the city. If not, maybe there needed to be one-- at least someone who was willing to get to the bottom of some of these rumors and bits of gossip circulating through the area.

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Clover Greene
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Aminal
* * *
She smiled, glad that she hadn’t lost all her touch when it came to being a good judge of character. Well, to be fair, she didn’t even know his name yet, so maybe she was being a little too quick to decide on things.
“By the way, I’m Clover.” The hand which was used to pat his shoulder now found itself extended in his direction. “And yeah, kind of like a PI, only not as cool and more fucked up.” She really needed to make up some plan or other, and stick with it. No more meandering around malls… starting tomorrow.

“Yeah? Me neither. Wasn’t much of a London person - used to visit from time to time but never really thought I’d ever live here. Still in the process of finding my way around.” A sad sigh escaped her. London was a nice place, but it wasn’t her place. Starting off from scratch, without being able to contact family or friends was harrowing at best. But, that’s why she needed to surround herself with people. People made her feel secure. At the very least, London was nothing if not filled with a shit-load of people.
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Garcia
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Fledgling
* *
He took her hand and gave it a firm shake.

"I'm Murph. Technically Tim, but nobody calls me that."

At least nobody he still recalled as being in London. Dead, gone, regrouped... He had no idea, but that came with not getting the memos. He sighed inwardly, no use to get worked up over that after all. Pi just less cool and more fucked up ? That evoked the image of having to stalk unfaithful partners who shot on sight and were in general very unnice. Huh, wouldn't be too good to pry though.

"Ah, I see. So you're out exploring the place as well ? London's a bit rough at first, but as far as I can say, it grows on you after the first months. Hah, I remember when I came here first. Im not much of a metropolice guy, I don't nomally like big cities. Where are you from, Clover ?"
Romanes eunt domus ! - People called Romanes they go the house ?
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Robyne
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-- Hound --
* * * * * *
The walk to the nearest bus stop wasn't far. She would wait for the bus to London and from there connect to the rail line back to Sutton. Robyne had enough for one night and it seemed as though she had enough information to get her to where she needed to be with a presentation before Prince Blucher. Once things got more organized and if she felt compelled to roam and explore some more, she might come back through this way and check out some of the parks in Enfield. Until then, she'd bid this part of Enfield, ado.

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Clover Greene
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Aminal
* * *
“Murph,” She smiled and allowed her hand to be firmly shaken. “Cool.” It was cool, and so, a moment later, Clover pulled her legs to her body, her arms coiling around them as her chin found rest on her knees. The distal sections of her soles leaned over the fence’s edge, but, at least, her new posture seemed to rid itself of any errant shiver.

“I’m from Peterborough,” Her voice, soft voice, cracked at the mention of her city, eliciting her to clear her throat. “It’s in Cambridgeshire, about 120 kilometres from here. Wasn’t much of a traveler, though, I had everything I needed right there.” Her narrowed eyes looked attentively at the lights of shops and houses on the other side of the street. She traced those lights, stopping only at the sight of a Baptist church. Clover’s sister--despite both of them being renowned pains in the butt of all conformists--had been (and to her knowledge, still was) religious. Clover had stopped praying sometime in primary school, and stopped believing, like the vast majority of her friends, in the later stages of secondary school. Her eyes, however, seemed to gaze longingly at that structure, as if, somehow, by focusing hard enough, some Divine Being would descend from the heavens and help her the fuck out. God knows she needed it.

Suddenly, she rubbed gently at her eyelids, as if to rid herself of any lingering drowsiness. During her captivity, her biological clock had gone completely out of sync. She would sleep during the later stages of the night, and throughout the majority of the mornings as well. Since her arrival in London, her sleeping habits had reverted back to normal at a surprising rate, as if she had developed a new instinct to sleep and be safe during the night. Humans, however, were not so much creatures of instinct as they were of conscience. Just as a firefighter would place himself in danger to save another life, so, too, would she.

“Hey, how rough is London? You look like a tough guy--I don’t mean this in a patronizing way, the opposite! Hell, your fingers are cold, too, but you play that guitar as if it doesn’t even matter. A girl can respect that. I was wondering if…” Her tone seemed uncertain, and somewhat embarrassed. “Shit, don’t take this the wrong way, but would you know of any abandoned, not often visited parts of London? I wanna… pray a prank on someone, but I’m not too familiar with the city yet.”
Clover attempted the most innocent smile she could muster.
“I’ll buy you a hot cup of coffee in return, if there’s any season for hot cups of coffee, this is the one.”
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Garcia
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Murph had never found his name overly cool, but then, it was more of a token of convenience. As he had been told once, removing the 'y' didn't just shorten the name but also made it easier to draw out, especially when shouted at the top of one's lungs. He nodded to himself, after all, he knew for a fact that this was true. A vowel in sorta the middle always made it easier. Clover snapped him back to the here and now. Peterborough, hm? He didn't remember passing through there, so he supposed they'd avoided it on the way to London. He laughed.

"I've been through some up and downs, yeah, but that comes with travelling. Although to be fair, I knew what was getting into and had enough opportunity to prepare, o it wasn't that bad. You learn to take what life throws at you."

He pondered that. He knew a lot of abandoned buildings but most were in the areas that this girl wouldn't be able to leave in one piece. Way to have hiding out bite him in the ass, eh ? He scratched his head.

"The outskirts, I'd say. Perhaps even Brent. Just make sure you stay out of the North-East. The amount of creeps in there had exploded. And I don't mean the harmless funny creeps."
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Clover Greene
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Clover listened intently as Murph spoke, her lips soundlessly mimicking the words “outskirts” and “Brent” as he suggested them. Despite her relatively snug posture, her brow showed the signs of tumultuous pondering.

“Ups and downs, huh?” She smiled at him with platonic affection, “Thanks for the advice. I’ll take it to heart; no North-East, gotcha.” Her tone was succinct and honest, yet even as she’d speak, a flicker of excitement danced across her eyes.

She jumped down from atop the fence, her dark, suede riding boots hitting the ground with an audible thud, causing Clover to stagger for a moment as she’d recover from the inertia of her sudden fall.

Palomides’ written message read: ‘I sense that your are apt to venture into the mold that I have so painstakingly sculpted for you during all these months.’

“I think I know what I need to do, now. Well, what I need to do after a good night’s sleep. She drew closer towards Murph, leaning her arm against the stone fence, a warm expression adorning her countenance. It was as if she was talking to a kindred spirit, as if she needed to see him as a kindred spirit, regardless of whether that was true or not. “I’d better get going, but I wasn’t joking about that cup of coffee; plus, I’m interested to hear more about your ups and downs.” Her coy grin replaced any melancholy visible from her features. “It’s getting pretty late now, but at least give me your phone number… er, if that’s alright with you, I mean.”
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Garcia
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"Yeap, ups and downs. The usual stuff, not really the sob-stories one normally expects, but I don't mind that."

Not going North-East was a good start, even if he didn't like the look in her eyes as she repeated it. He guessed she was up to something, although that might have been the prank thing she had been alluding to. Still, something felt off, he just couldn't say what it was that bothered him. He decided against prying though. She was old enough to decide on herself if she wanted to heed the stuff or not, right ?

"I would, if I had a phone. I don't though. I'd take yours and see when its convenient to call, but I can see how thats a bit creepy on the first meeting."

He chuckles a bit as he revealed the fact.
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