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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
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South London
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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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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.

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A Living Mirror; Possesion Training - #1
Topic Started: Friday, 6. February 2015, 03:50 (275 Views)
Tsar Ilya the First
Member Avatar
Claiming Tsar
* * * *
SKYPE CONVERSATION
Main hall of Ilya's fortress. A few meters away from the sofa, there is a light wood table. Clearly IKEA. A laptop is open on top of it. ILYA, wearing a wife beater t shirt and suit trousers, is staring at the screen, with a blank expression in his eyes. Skype is open. He is in the middle of a video call with his brother Maxim.

Olga, the recently ghouled ex slave, is sitting in the table as well. She just wears some pale lingerie. She is watching a music video in Ilya's tablet, watching only the images, without sound. Both Ilya and Olga are barefoot. ILYA and MAXIM speak in French.


ILYA: Are you going to help me or not?
MAXIM: I'm still trying to get my mind around it.
ILYA: Around what?
MAXIM: Around the fact that my brother is a thick idiot.
ILYA: Ah. Sarcasm, right?
MAXIM: No. Direct insult. Sarcasm would be: Oh! That is a great idea! How come you are so smart?
ILYA: Very funny.
MAXIM: See? Double sarcasm.
ILYA: Come on, Maks... I need your help here.
MAXIM: Alright. Just one more time.
ILYA: What?
MAXIM: Tell me your brilliant idea one more time.
ILYA: Why? I already told you twice. Why would you ask me to repeat it if you already know what it is?
MAXIM: Call it a payment.
ILYA: Excuse me?
MAXIM: The pleasure of hearing you say such an stupid idea out loud, in front of your ghoul. Priceless.
ILYA: She doesn't speak French.
MAXIM: Still, it's a magnificent image.

Pause.

ILYA: I want to learn how to be empathetic. I want to learn how to understand other people's feelings. I want to see the world through their eyes, and understand them better in consequence. There is a short cut. You know that short cut. I've seen you doing it before. Teach me how to inhabit my ghoul's body. I want to be inside of her.

MAXIM laughs hysterically.

MAXIM: HAHAHAHAHA! This never gets old.
ILYA: I still don't get the joke.
MAXIM: One day, little man... one day.
ILYA: Will you help me? Please?
MAXIM: Okay. You earned it. Is your ghoul close?
ILYA: It is here.
MAXIM: Seriously, brother: if you want to know how people feel, you are going to have to start calling them by their gender, at the very least. She is not an object.
ILYA: Semantics. The definition of object is surprisingly open.
MAXIM: Do you want my help or not?
ILYA: He is here.
MAXIM: Good boy. I need you to stare at her. In the eyes.

ILYA stares at OLGA. She is too focused on her mute music videos.

MAXIM: Grab her attention. You need to establish eye contact.

ILYA turns off the tablet. OLGA raises her gaze, slightly annoyed. She speaks in Russian.

OLGA: I was watching that!
MAXIM: Calm her down.

ILYA speaks in Russian to OLGA. His voice becomes unnaturally deep and soothing. His eyes glisten and penetrate hers deeply. She relaxes nearly immediately, unable to take her eyes of his.

ILYA: Listen to me. Listen closely. You are feeling heavy. Your arms are heavy. Your legs are heavy. You can feel your feet getting closer and closer to the ground, being pulled down by the Earth. You are relaxed. Very relaxed. You want to help me. You will do anything I say, because making me happy will make you happy. Good. Very good.

OLGA is visibly relaxed and calm, and she keeps focused on ILYA's eyes.

MAXIM: Beautiful. Spoken like a drunken snake oil salesman.
ILYA: Fuck off.
MAXIM: Now that she is calm, and now that she is receptive, you need to find the door.
ILYA: The door? What are you talking about?
MAXIM: They say the eyes are the door to the soul. That is not entirely accurate. The eyes have a door that leads to the soul. It is more complicated than it seems. Somewhere in those eyes, there is an opening, a gap, that leads straight into her control cabin. We all have a door like that, but it's never in the same spot. You need to find it.
ILYA: How? I can see her iris, and I can see her pupil... no doors here.
MAXIM: Don't be so literal, you stupid boar.
ILYA: Okay. That is just offensive.
MAXIM: Keep looking. Focus.
ILYA: I can't find any door!
MAXIM: Whining? Really? You need to relax, and find that door. It is not a "real" door; it is an access point. Stare at her eyes, until the rest of the world disappears. If you stop hearing my voice, that is a good sign.
ILYA: If I stop hearing your voice, that would mean that you are not helping me much, right?
MAXIM: Sometimes I wonder why are you so damn thick. Just stare at her eyes. Focus on that. Stop thinking. Just clean your mind. Empty it. Don't let any thought break your concentration. You are just the attention you put on her. The rest of you doesn't exist. Become the link between you and her. Become the air that separates you two. Become the surface of her eyes, and search for that door. Somewhere, there is an access point, an opening that will let you in. Just try to feel that opening, calling at you. She wants you in. She wants to feel your thoughts pushing hers away, stretching the confines of her mind. Search. Dig. Push. You only need to find the door and...
ILYA: No door.
MAXIM: Fuck you, Ilya! Fuck you!
ILYA: What?
MAXIM: Call me back when you learn how to stop thinking. For fuck's sake...

Very irritated, MAXIM hangs up. ILYA is confused and annoyed. He breaks visual contact with OLGA. She waits for instructions that never come. Eventually, she returns to her mute music videos. ILYA, still confused, walks around the room, trying to put his ideas in order. Frustrated, he goes to the basement.

Fade to black.
Languages:

Russian, Japanese, English, French, Finnish, German

Oleg's Voice

You may know me as Yuri Mikhailov or as Khoza.
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Tsar Ilya the First
Member Avatar
Claiming Tsar
* * * *
SKYPE CONVERSATION
Ilya is sitting in front of his laptop. Beside him, kneeling in the floor, Olga watches music videos without sound in a tablet. Maxim's smiley face occupies Ilya's screen.

MAXIM: Back for more?
ILYA: I am ready, now.
MAXIM: I don't believe you.
ILYA: I am!
MAXIM: What's the girl's name?
ILYA: Why would I know that?
MAXIM: You are not ready.
ILYA: Come on! This is ridiculous!
MAXIM: Why? You want to learn empathy, then learn peoples' names!
ILYA: I've seen you penetrate their minds without even looking at them. Why would I need to learn their names?
MAXIM: So, now you are comparing yourself to me? That is new.
ILYA: It is not that...
MAXIM: Alright. Let's try it your way. Ignore the girl's name, even though you know it...
ILYA: I don't...!
MAXIM: Shut up. Don't tell me her name. Try it as you think it's right; she is a sack of potatoes. Stare at that sack of potatoes.
ILYA: I didn't mean to...!
MAXIM: Stare at it, you fucker!
ILYA: Okay.
MAXIM: Into her eyes!
ILYA: Doing it.
MAXIM: Now focus.
ILYA: I'm focused...
MAXIM: Shut up! Focus! Thing of the sack! Think of the potatoes. Their brown skin, their yellow flesh...
ILYA: This is ridiculous...
MAXIM: Potatoes...
ILYA: Stop it.
MAXIM: You are a potato. One with the sack...
ILYA: You are stupid.
MAXIM: A round potato...
ILYA: Please...
MAXIM: You are a silly, thick potato...
ILYA: Come on!
MAXIM: Her name!
ILYA: I just...
MAXIM: Potato...
ILYA: Olga! Her fucking name is Olga! Happy now?

Olga raises her head, and stares at Ilya full of curiosity and hope. The image of angels singing the song of the transformation; Anakin Skywalker removing his mask and becoming whole again; Othello trusting Desdemona; MacBeth distrusting his old lady...

MAXIM: Good. Now fuck her mind.

The angels died.

ILYA: What?
MAXIM: Fuck her mind for good. Don't even use lube. Just go, open her up, and rape that juicy tender little brain of hers.
ILYA: Are you...?
MAXIM: I am dead serious. Stare into those eyes, and find the fucking slit. Fuck that shit out.
ILYA: Well... The eyes...
MAXIM: Good. You are going in. Do you feel it? The hard on?
ILYA: What?
MAXIM: The mind hard on. Your frontal lobe getting hard as a rock, throbbing with power, ready to rip her callosal commissure open, and penetrate it with all the contempt and despise you can muster. I can see you. Good. Focus on the eyes. The slit is there. You just need to find it... and open it...
ILYA: I can see it..
MAXIM: Great. Now dive in...
ILYA: It is too tight...
MAXIM: Visualize it opening. Opening for you. It becomes juicy and tender. It is calling you in...
ILYA: I don't fit there...
MAXIM: Just use your mind's spearhead to push your way in...
ILYA: It is closing up...
MAXIM: It will open if you are confident enough. Just show that slit who is the man...
ILYA: It wants to eat me...
MAXIM: Don't let it do that!
ILYA: It want's to absorb me, to swallow me alive and make me disappear!
MAXIM: Her name!
ILYA: What?
MAXIM: Scream her name!
ILYA: OLGA!

Ilya breaks visual contact with Olga, who looks quite confused.

ILYA: What the hell was that?
MAXIM: That is what happens when you don't trust me.
ILYA: I was...
MAXIM: Half assing it.
ILYA: And the name?
MAXIM: A dirty trick to push her away before she drags you into her world of shit.
ILYA: Can we try again?
MAXIM: Not tonight. But you'll get there, brother.
ILYA: Thanks. I love you.
MAXIM: I love you too.

They hang up. Ilya stands up and walks out, rubbing his crotch absent mindedly.
Languages:

Russian, Japanese, English, French, Finnish, German

Oleg's Voice

You may know me as Yuri Mikhailov or as Khoza.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Tsar Ilya the First
Member Avatar
Claiming Tsar
* * * *
SKYPE CONVERSATION
Ilya is sitting in front of his computer. As usual, Olga is kneeling beside him, staring at the tablet's screen, watching music videos without the sound. Maxim's face is on the screen, staring at Ilya.

ILYA: I can do this. I've been reading.
MAXIM: Sorry?
ILYA: Studying. Reading. Inspiration material.
MAXIM: What sort of material?
ILYA: Errm... "The Joy of Sex", and some magazines.
MAXIM: HAHAHAHAHA!
ILYA: What?
MAXIM: You are the one in charge of a multi million slave trade and prostitution business, you are the one setting up a whole clandestine network using the filthiest porn sites in the world to mask it, and you are pulling off some old book and some ridiculous magazines to learn about sex?
ILYA: So what?
MAXIM: Seriously. You are joking, right?
ILYA: No, I'm not. I don't understand how any of this can be a joke. I find the whole sexual thing quite repulsive, to be honest.
MAXIM: Oh sure. I wish somebody had Embraced the good old Doctor Freud, so he could have an enlightening chat with you.
ILYA: I don't understand any of that. Please, speak clearly.
MAXIM: It is so hard to resist the jokes...
ILYA: It shouldn't. I am taking this very seriously.
MAXIM: So it seems.
ILYA: Can we try now?
MAXIM: Tell me what you've learned.
ILYA: I've learned that sex is all about sharing an experience with somebody you love, or with somebody you care about, and that you need to be gentle and communicative...
MAXIM: Utter bullshit.
ILYA: What? I remember sex, and it was like that... mostly...
MAXIM: I mean... That is bullshit for this. You don't have to respect shit, or to be communicative. You need to go and grab what is yours by right. Don't ask for permission; don't ask if they like it; just go and grab it.
ILYA: But I need their cooperation...
MAXIM: You don't. You need their submissiveness, which has nothing to do with cooperation.
ILYA: So, all the empathy thing?
MAXIM: Empathy is the way people rape each other's private emotional worlds, and steal information that was not theirs to start with. When you are empathetic, you are prying on somebody else's private emotional world, generally without even being invited in. Empathy is the subtlest way of spying on other people; it is insidious, because it is impossible to refuse, and socially accepted. Empathy is the real leash that ties mortals to the ground, and that makes them weak forever. Now, be empathetic, and rape that girl's brain. She'll be thankful after the fact.
ILYA: Alright.

Ilya grabs Olga's face with both hands, and forces her into staring at him. He looks at her with unusual intensity. Maxim is silent, watching the scene. Olga's toes start twitching. Her back slightly arches. She blushes. Ilya's face seems less and less alive, and more and more like a mannequin's. Something strange happens, and Ilya drops to the ground. For the first time, Olga stands up. She stares at her own hands. Then she touches her own body. She feels it. Her expression is blank. She stares at the screen.

OLGA: I made it. I am in.
MAXIM: You are welcome.

The conversation ends.
Languages:

Russian, Japanese, English, French, Finnish, German

Oleg's Voice

You may know me as Yuri Mikhailov or as Khoza.
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Tsar Ilya the First
Member Avatar
Claiming Tsar
* * * *
ABOUT EMPATHY     
Empathy: it is generally defined as the ability to read or even understand other people's feelings and emotions. It is considered a virtue, and even a demonstration of personal strength. People who are empathetic generally are more socially successful and loved.

     However, my research with Maxim has taught me a completely different side of empathy. As emotions and feelings are not so easy to control, and not so clearly expressed, those granted with the gift of empathy can steal that information without the target's consent. They peek into other people's souls for no apparent reason, and gather data that doesn't belong to them in the first place. For that action, the society of the flesh machines gives them rewards. Why?

     Digging deeper into that concept, it is very easy to realize that those who admire and respect empathy as a trait, are those who will happily give up their emotional freedom, and put it into somebody else's hand; natural born slaves. They long for the understanding of others, and they are ready to give up their freedom and their privacy to attain that goal.

     Maxim was smart enough to use sex as a metaphor of empathy, as the sadistic and masochistic sides of the act are generally repressed by common society and turned into mild acts of acceptable empathy. Nobody likes to acknowledge that they enjoy hurting other people, or that they enjoy being hurt, but I can see now that this is where it all heads towards. Pain and control is at the heart of empathy and emotion; when people talk about understanding and sensitivity, they are in fact talking about dominance and deprivation of freedom. The caring eyes of the mother looking at her child are in fact the hungry mouths that cannibalize her own creation, swallowing the child's wings over and over in a twisted orgy of misplaced love. In the world of empathy, words require a different translation, and their meaning gets always confused. That is how emotions work; in a layer that makes language obsolete. Those who focus on facts and meanings, always get confused by empathy, as they lack the proper dictionary.

     But now I have my own dictionary. I can penetrate the minds of the weaker ones, and feel what they feel. I can exercise the ultimate empathy, without the hassle of the lies and the half truths; if I am to rape anybody's identity, I will not do it behind their backs, with fake expressions of affection. It will hurt, and it will be very humiliating, but at least I will be honest with them. Nobody deserves to lose their freedom and become slaves without being properly informed.

     Now I know empathy. And nobody can take that away from me.
Languages:

Russian, Japanese, English, French, Finnish, German

Oleg's Voice

You may know me as Yuri Mikhailov or as Khoza.
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