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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Club 108, Silverstreet; Attn.: Leslie
Topic Started: Thursday, 16. April 2015, 13:31 (1,472 Views)
Noel de Gavrillac
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Silverstreet… wasn’t that nice? Maybe this establishment would become his favourite take-away?
Noël liked silver, he never wore anything golden. Gold was the sign for the sun, not quite adequate for a Kindred… Silver was the moon throwing soft light down to earth, creating mystic shadows and unwrapping the beauty of the night.
Slightly smiling and turning his cane in his hand watching the cold silver shine in the lights of this club at Silverstreet. Club 108…

It was the second night he spent here watching the Mortals walking in and out of the establishment. He wanted to find out, if they consumed drugs here or drinking excessively alcoholics. Both he disgusted, it made him feel ill to drink from addicts, even smokers were second choice at its best…

Wearing black goth pants with straps and tinkling silverrings, his buckled goth boots and a black leather waisted jacket with silver studs forming rose tendrils and flowers on the lapels.
A black leatherband wrapped around the silverblonde hair held it in a loose ponytail.

Leaning against a broken streetlamp, his rosewood cane in his right hand. Noël’s cool eyes observed the Mortals. Classifying them after their use for him. Models, maybe-models, food, maybe-food, no-use. The no-use he derendered from his attention, waste of time…

At the moment a group of girls stood in front of the club between him and the entrance, still about 10 steps away. They were giggling and chatting. The whisper of their blood was swaying over to the Toreador. Surprisingly most of them were at least maybe-models and in any case food. If they didn’t turn out silly enough to consume drugs…
One with long brown hair and darkbrown eyes appealed him the most. She was kind of different. Her behaviour was… more… whatever. Different to his schooled eyes. Maybe she was a professional model? Her moves were confident unless she giggled just like the rest of the flock.
Edited by Noel de Gavrillac, Thursday, 16. April 2015, 14:30.
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"The blood jet is poetry. There is no stopping it." Sylvia Plath

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Leslie
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The night was on a roll. Time flowed in and out like waves. Tidal waves. Leslie liked the spring that was announcing warmer weather. Now she could wear something more alluring. And skirts! Oh skirts were so good since she had gotten her bunny tail. Pants were very tight and hurt it when it had to be pushed inside it. It was way more fun when it could wriggle freely. Even though she missed the sun she loved the nightlife. The clubs, the people, the music. It was one buzzing vibe flowing through the streets and wrapping around everyone. Small hands of seduction pushed every soul that was lingering around towards the closest pub or club. The night was young and she had been wandering around after a long long warm shower and getting dressed.

The shiny black heels were wrapped around her feet. Her bare legs were rubbed in with oil to make them shine a bit more especially because vampire skin tended to be dry. Above her knees her skirt started. It was a black silk fabric designed in three layers. Her blouse was white with small black polka dots. She was wearing her typical young teenage outfit. She looked barely legal and yet she had the movements from something that was older than most around her. She moved with grace and determination. Her long dark hair was loose and hanging till half way down her back. It danced with every movement she made and everything the wind ruffled through it. She had a soft pink lipgloss on her lips and was surrounded by humans she had bumped into.

Not by accident of course. She knew them through someone she fed from regularly, not that he knew what she did with him but anyway he adored her and he introduced them to these friends who were visiting from Scotland. They were standing outside and waiting to be allowed to enter the church. As the song said God is a DJ. Her eyes were locked upon each one of her group. Her nose wriggled as she took in their scents. Sweet smells of perfume. One of them was chewing on bubblegum. Strawberry flavoured. She sighed happily.

Her chocolate brown gaze traveled further than her group. She noticed a stranger staring. Her head tilted to the side as she watched him. His scent was untraceable in the air. Too much was already corrupting her sense of smell. She wondered why he stood there. Watching. Merely watching. He was leaning against a streetlight and had a cane in his hand. That must mean he wasn't so young anymore. Still he was dressed like a goth punk. Something felt odd.

As always Demon was around. She saw her cat close by and whistled for it. The others had already told her not to bring her cat but she refused to listen. She picked her cat up and while it nuzzled against her she caught its eyes. She commanded it to go investigate the strange man. It hopped out of her arms and strode towards the man. It walked around him a few times, sniffed at him and then ran off towards Leslie again to deliver its message. Right when they were allowed to enter she thanked the humans and excused herself. Demon went to sit in a tree on a branch while Leslie walked with swaying movements towards him. "Hello there stranger of the night."
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Noël's eyes locked with the darkhaired girls. He didn't fake he hadn't watched her but kept her gaze calmly. When out of nothing a cat jumped in her arms he rose a brow.
Hm... humanimal... their blood would merge smoothly. For some seconds he followed this train of thoughts. Imagining the flows of blood from the two bodies. Melting in one pool of life in the end. Mutuality. Humanimal...

The cat hobbled towards him, the icy blue eyes followed the elegant moves of the spotted beast. Curiosity kills the cat. Cat on a cane? Mais non... he didn't like blood on his cane.
Finally the cat returned to the girl, strange indeed. A Kindred? Commanding the beasts... Gangrel or Nosferatu? Who cares? Enough food here for both.

The flock of girls went inside the club only cat-girl remained outside. When she turned towards him his gaze lingered on her. Most likely Nosferatu, no beastmarks on so much visible body? Or maybe a mere Ghoul? Ghoul would be nice at least Ghouls still bled, Kindred only felt to ashes.

“Hey there stranger of the night.”

A faint smile curved his lips, his eyes gleaming in a strange mix of tenderness and frost.

I'm no stranger to the night, are you?

The French accent was hard to miss. His voice was deep and soft. The Toreador had not moved at all. Obviously he wasn't too worried about her. He was curious about her himself and most likely she was too. An enemy would have attacked already. If he was lucky, she was a free spirit like him.

Another group of Mortals approached the entrance of the club, but two of the three were perceptibly drunk, so “no-use”...
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Leslie
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Her brown doe like orbs took in the sight she was seeing. She watched him with an intent stare but never let her face fall into a rude expression. Her soft lips were smiling and her eyes were sparkling. The French tones that were heavily roaming his words made her aware he was either new to town, a tourist, or passing through. However the harsh edges around his words prevented her from addressing him in French. It was better not to show all her cards already.

"Sometimes I am, sometimes I'm not. That's the beauty of each moment we live. It also depends on the company." she replied with a witty shrug and grin.

Meanwhile Demon was still watching them. The eyes reflected the bit of light around it making them look like small coles burning in the distance and keeping an eye upon the strange man. If he made a wrong move it would most likely attack from beyond as it was staring at the French sounding man his back.

"Do you always stalk places like this and young girls? Or was it the boys you were keeping an eye upon?" she asked with a giggle but behind her eyes there was an obvious difference than what regular youth and girls like her possessed. It was something only another predator would recognise if they know how to look in the reflection of the windows she presented to the world.
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Noël's iceblue eyes reverted to the girl, when she spoke. Her mask is very... artistic, if she really was a Nosferatu... He needed to make sure he talked to a Kindred. The Toreador opened the floodgates of his perception and let his glance float around her, making her Aura visible to his senses. [Auspex 2: AuraPerception]
The halo built around her form, pale colours flaring up. A short smile and a frosty glitter in his eyes and the gates closed... he had seen what he wanted. Pale Aura. She was a Kindred indeed.

That's the beauty of each moment we live.

Some of the Hidden loved to talk of beauty as far as he knew. But this was all just fishing in the dark and not really relevant.

Another couple of Mortals arrived to enter the establishment. These seemed sober, but one just flipped the rest of a cigarette on the street. To find clean food in clubs was here as hard as in Paris.

When the Kindred girl asked him about stalking places and girls or boys, Noël blinked and his left brow rose a little. Girls or boys? Did it matter? All the same blood. Her giggle didn't help to solve the riddle.

I like clean food and observe it that for, no stalking at all.

His deep voice was low enough not to carry too far. Anyway the words would not make sense to some accidentally listener.

May I ask your name? Mine is Noël...

For a first meeting out in the streets this might be enough to know for her.
Again his eyes roamed over to a Mortal but his look snapped back immediately, the Kine looked more destroyed than a Nosferatu. Damn junkies! How was it possible Kine still felt for these ruinous drugs?
Edited by Noel de Gavrillac, Friday, 24. April 2015, 20:31.
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With a frown that only lasted a few seconds she watched him. Her head turned aside so she could watch the humans from the club. "Clean food is important for some. I know how much struggle that can gain you but mostly keeping the streets clean is important as well. I don't like leftovers or bad food thrown aside because you don't like it." Yes. She had immediately given him a threat he should be aware of. These streets of Enfield were hers and she could not afford troublemakers. The frustration when not finding what you wanted or needed was very annoying for the Beast. It took her long before she had been able to find a decent flock of food.

The way he watched around him was something she did not like. His eyes were possessive. The way he spoke was demanding and how he dressed was clearly about going against the stream. He stood out in a negative way. However she had a few advantages here. She knew who he was. She spoke his language but she refused to share these details.

"You can call me Leslie." she gave him a slight bow with her eyes lifted up because she wasn't stupid enough to show her back without keeping her eyes upon him. Claws would be out fast if he would make one wrong move.

While she straightened herself she smiled. "So you sound from not around here. Where are you from? Have you been here long? How is London to your liking?" It was quite funny because Leslie didn't sound English as well bur she had a lesser familiar accent than Noël had. There was some music that traveled from the club. She could hear the heavy bass reaching out to them and one of her feet was tapping on the ground in sync with the music.
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Noël nodded when the girl replied on clean food. She sounded like it was her street she was worried about. His cool eyes went over her again. Was it possible? Sure it was... her young look didn't mean anything.

No worries, I usually don't feed on the streets and I agree your concerns. In my first night 'ere, I went to Alexandra Park. Sitting on a bench I got assaulted by some tall dark guy, biting my throat like a raging beast. Talking about keeping the streets clean... you should also keep them clean from random biters...

He pushed himself straight when she introduced herself. Politely he returned her slight bow the same way. It was a matter of respect for him to show the same behaviour.

Nice to meet you Leslie.

He gave her a smile and his eyes flared a strange icy spark for a moment. It was soothing to see there were other Kindred around not jumping at his throat immediately.

Another whisper flowing to his ears and distracting him from the Kindred girl. Noël looking over to the group of mortals just taking the steps to the entrance. He needed a model or two soon... he missed the ecstasy of the poetry of blood, the euphoric ride on the waves of life.

He blinked and his blue eyes fixed Leslie again as she asked him his origin. With his left hand he brushed back one of his long blonde strands. The movement made the silver rosetendrils around his fingers chime against eachothers.

I came 'ere from Paris just a few nights ago. So far I didn't see much of London, just checking out my new 'ome and looking for 'unting grounds. If this is yours tell me and I'll leave it, no 'ard feelings about it. I just liked the name Silverstreet...

A slightly amused expression flickered over his ivory features. She might think he was crazy to chose his hunt after a streetname. On the other hand if you are new to a town you have to start somewhere. A streetname was as good as anything to go for.
Edited by Noel de Gavrillac, Monday, 4. May 2015, 09:42.
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Her eyes narrowed. The big brown gaze went slightly darker as she heard him speak. She knew what he was talking about but did he really as newcomer to the lands just judged her and commanded her what to do? She gave him peaceful advice and he returned it with throwing it in her face. Do a better job and I will do mine? Was that what he was telling her? With the calmness of her heart she soothed her brain. She could not allow herself to let the paranoia of the shadows that were fed by Camarilla spies take over and distrust every new person who walked into London.

"We all try to keep the streets clean. Some do not take good care of such measurements. I am sorry that has happened to you. Please don't judge us all for it." she smiled and watched how he bowed in return. "The pleasure is mine."

His eyes traveled away from her. He was seeking food. Leslie hoped he wasn't hungry because she could miss the trouble a frenzying vampire loose on the streets would bring her. She sighed and rested her hands on her back. Her right one wrapping around her left wrist while she pondered.

"Some of us have our own grounds and are protective of it. The personal herd are the ones you should not touch but sharing at times when in need or newly arrived does no harm. If you are hungry then I could help you for this night alone. I don't like it when someone wanders these streets with hungry eyes. That only leads to a mess." her voice was firm but the tones were soft, not accusing but kind and served with her ever lasting endearing smile.
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“Please don't judge us all for it.”


Noël looked at Leslie with honest surprise. He took a moment to think it over, if this was sarcasm. He had some troubles to detect sarcasm at times. Her smile didn't show any mocking, so it was meant serious most likely.

'ow should I judge all by the misbe'ave of one? I admitt I was displeased but more about my own inattention. In the end it is 'is problem because 'e drank my blood...
And by the way I will be 'appy to 'elp to keep the streets clean, once I'm settled 'ere.

A very short amused spark lighted his fair features. With his next look at her the Toreador noticed some bodytension in her. He wasn't sure what should be the cause.
Almost unwilling his eyes followed a girl who's whisper settled softly in his ears. When the door to the club opened the bass drenched music immediately overtoned the melodic whisper. Noël shook his head... this... music...

Then again Leslie spoke with soft voice and a likable smile. Was it really a mask? She looked so... natural. The bow of her shiny lips was delicate, long silky lashes matching perfectly with her darkhazel eyes. The brows almost flawless framing her eyes in a daring bow, tiny almost invisible freckles...
Her voice... her voice! She was speaking! Focus Noël!
The French blinked several times to gain back control. His cool shimmering eyes met her chocolate orbs for a second enraptured.

“... have our own grounds and are protective of it.”

Now he listened attentive and nodded with a slight smile on his lips.

'ow do I recognize those private grounds or the 'erds? Is there a map to find somewhere? Don't worry about me. As I said I usually don't feed on the street, that's why I observe places. Still you didn't tell me if this is your 'unting ground, just to avoid troubles.
So far I lived on my Ghouls blood but your generous offer will 'elp a lot to gain time to observe.

The last sentence he spoke with a well trained grateful nod. Kyrill had taught him this little gesture of humility.
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So he did not look at them all the same? That was good. Leslie knew why she hated the Camarilla for so long. It was the action of a single Sheriff against her that caused the distrust, the dear and the hate mix in one thing. Though now after a few years she had realised that it was as much about individuals as it was with any other Sect. Sometimes the person behind the masquerade was more important than an opinion about it all. Just take George for example. A Brujah. A Primogen and a fine man. One that held danger in his anger for sure but also one that could sit down and have a talk with as well.

"Thank you. I appreciate that. You have no idea how easily all get judged by the actions of one. Even we have rules and even we like to apply them to keep the nights safe for everyone." she watched him closely. Observed his movements and pondered what this stranger was seeking for. He didn't match the city life and certainly not one like London. Something she didn't mind but it did have a troublesome vibe. Some disliked what was so obviously distant to the city and the human life. It would take a lot more effort from his side to maintain the Masquerade. Even the Anarchs held on to that firmly.

"By observing and if that one decides to introduce itself to you. We have no secret Wikipedia or Google maps aout such a thing. For now you have my word you can feed freely for this night alone. After all you are a stranger I let into my night." she bowed again to him and looked around to the entrance.

Then she texted a message and five minutes later a girl walked out. "What's going on? Is he troubling you?"

"Not at all Maddy. This is my uncle. He came to check up on me. He is worried and wanted to know whether I had someone to get home safely."

"Oh yes. No worries sir. I don't drink or anything that can influence my driving." she said nearly rehearsed to sedate the uncle's mind.

With a grin she looked back at Noël. "Dinner is served. I have the same restrictions as you in many ways. Please be a little discrete when you Kiss her and keep her alive." she whispered in French with a twinkle in her chocolate gaze that rested upon him. Hopefully he knew that what she did now would gain her a favour in the future. Her hand traced the human's back and she pushed the girl forward to him. The human got confused and looked to both of them. The way he would feed of her would tell Leslie a lot about the man. She had already given him instructions and if he indeed liked clean streets he would know how to feed the right way without causing suspicion.
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Noël returned the bow to Leslie when she stated to let him in her night... this one time.

A girl walked out of the club after some moments of silence between the two Kindred and the Toreador recognized one of the girls of Leslie's flock from before.
As soon as the Mortal was near a new kind of smile curved his lips. A well rehearsed one, hunter's smile. His eyes got an amused glitter when Leslie introduced him to Maddy as her uncle. Would anyone believe that?

In fact I'm only 'er step uncle... nice to meet you Maddy, I am Noël. Also good to 'ear you take care for you and your friends.

His demeanor was now totally another. Matching his smile, hunter's mode. Well aware the Mortals weaknesses. Playing his French accent as a smooth harpoon to catch the warm bloodfilled mermaid.

A surprised and also delighted gaze to Leslie when she spoke French to him. With a confirming nod he answered with low voice.

Of course, Madame. Most appreciated.

The favour wasn't for free, he was aware of that. Anyway it was generous and he wouldn't forget it. This was a question of honour.

Towards Maddy he spoke cheerful and his intense blue eyes glittered. Making her feel like she was the only girl he was interested in. In fact she was... her whisper nested comfortably in his ear and her scent fueled his greed for her blood...

Maddy, since I am new in town, would you do me the favour to accompany me into the club for a dance... or two?

Offering her his arm. A little old fashioned maybe, but most Mortal girls liked such behaviour, confusing it with appreciation...
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With a nod she greeted his French words in return and watched the interaction between him and Maddy. It was surely interesting. Why did he want to go inside? She had called Maddy outside for a reason and they stood pretty secluded from the street. Maddy gave Leslie a quick look as she found it weird that an older man and one with a cane asked her to dance inside the club. Leslie didn't say anything but stood in such a way that she would be able to quickly grab the girl by the arm if she was to run. "My boyfriend is inside so that would be awkward." she tried to sound politely even though it was clear she was trying to tell him it was not going to happen.

Then she looked back at Noël and wondered what he would do now. "Hurry. Dinner is getting cold." she ushered him in a whisper but she never lost her friendly composure. Though she wondered with what she knew about him how it was that he wasn't playing this game better. Maybe Valerius had given the wrong information or interpreted what Noël had done wrong. She clasped her hands behind her back and stared at the French Kindred with a twinkling curiosity on how he would solve this while Maddy was getting more and more nervous and reluctant on going inside with anyone's uncle.

The darkness of the night grew around them meanwhile and Demon, her cat, was still watching them with eyes that burned like coals. The cat disliked what was going on. Leslie could feel it and see it in how it moved its tail. With a wistle she let it know it could leave but it would never wander too far away from her. With a happy purr the animal pounced out of immediate sight.
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„Boyfriend... awkward...“

Noël blinked twice, still his hunter's smile on. Managing a low chuckle while thinking over a new strategy.

Oh I see. Yes that would be strange, we don't want to 'urt anybodies feelings.

But he wanted that blood. He didn't like to drink on the streets, he didn't like to be hurried, but he wanted.this.blood.!
With a silent sigh he focussed this wanting on Maddy. [Presence 3: Enchantment] Easily his will strangled hers. She would want to stay here, close to him where it was safe. She would like his arm around her, grabbing her hair and pull back her head a little. She would welcome the tender kiss on her neck and quiver when the kiss got more intense. Digging her nails in the black leather on the blonde mans shoulders.

His lips touched the girls skin gently first, the tip of his tongue caressed her, opening the sensation of her. His fangs broke her delicate skin and pierced her flesh to let her vivid liquid flow on Noël's tongue.
She was delicious. Clean and sober as he liked it, the savour was delightful with every sip. Slow and sensual the Toreador stole her life from her veins. Her heartbeat was strong and rounded the pleasure of the feeding.
One last sip and he slid his tongue over the tiny wounds. Feeling her body pressed against his, shivering and tensed. Another healing lick on her now again unflawed skin. Releasing her from his embrace, still resting his arm around her waist to keep her from an unelegant stumbling or even falling.

A satisfied smile curved the Frenchs lips. A swift wipe over his lips with his free hand. Then he turned his gaze back to Leslie, his blue eyes still with a cold burning flare in it.

I owe you, madame...

A faint bow with his head. The girls blood warmed his system in a pleasant way. The hunger was gone and Pierre would be grateful for a little pause.
Still Noël wasn't too sure, why Leslie wanted him to drink out here. In a club it was much easier to feed unnoticed. On the other hand, he hadn't to bear the music.

Since the girl seemed stable Noël took a step back from her with a polite smile on his face. No need to stay that close anymore, her whisper roamed his system now and he enjoyed it.
Edited by Noel de Gavrillac, Monday, 25. May 2015, 18:06.
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Mesmerised she watched how he played with Maddy. The small touches, the careless caress of his whisper when he spoke to the mortal. Leslie's eyes were fixed upon him to see any sign of what he was doing. She noticed how the mortal her entire composure faltered and her demeanour changed towards him. All the little telltale signs that he was using a mental discipline. So Valerius had been right about the Presence. What had he guessed? Brujah or Toreador? That would have to be figured out later.

Meanwhile Maddy stayed close to him after a few moaning sighs that the Kiss had provoked and the blank gaze in her eyes hinted at the fact that she was still under the influence of what Noël had just done to her. She let the mortal regain some balance and some dignity again before sending her back inside with that goofy grin still upon her face and legs that trembled beneath her. With a smirk she watched the girl go back inside and turned back to face the Kindred.

"One night you will indeed." Her eyes were sweet and kind and yet they held a dangerous spark as well. "You shouldn't be wandering around too long without an official place to stay. The nights are too dangerous for rogue wanderers to be out and about." There was a tone hiding in her words that sounded like a menace but she was sure he would understand what she meant and if not it would get explained sooner or later.

"So tell me, please, what are you exactly and why are you here in exactly this place of the greater town of London?" she wanted to know his clan and why he was on Anarch land. Did he know he was on Anarch turf? That was probably a better question but she would await his answer first.
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The Toreador listened to Leslie’s words quietly and nodded. His glacial eyes followed Maddy as she took her way back inside the club. Still he was captured by the pleasure of drinking from a pure source. He had no reason to take offense from Leslie’s words, it was a clear and usual statement, nothing more or less.

For a moment he lowered his eyes with a faint smile, then the icy blue returned to the girls chocolate brown. The silverrings on his fingers glittered when he stroke over the silverstuds on his black lapels.
So Pierre was right… no one would take notice of these patterns on the black leather. He had scolded his Ghoul to buy clothing like this for him. Usually he trusted Pierre’s taste. Noël didn’t care for fashion too much, so his Ghoul was the one to get most of Noël’s outfits.

I’m of the Roses, madame and I’m in this area because I was advised by my Sire to look for the free spirits in the north of London. Thank you for your warning, I will set up contact as soon as possible.

Noël’s expression didn’t give away he was surprised by her blunt question about his Clan. In Paris this kind of question would be rather unusual. Seemed in London the Kindred were more direct. He had to keep that in mind. Unless she had asked him, he didn’t ask the same. In the end it didn’t matter. She was kind enough to let him feed on one of her herdlings all else was negligible.

He should think about a herd too. It was a handy thing to have some safe drinks in reserve.

The whisper of the Mortal blood ahead pulled his attention again. His features showed some displease when he noticed the girls the whisper came from were heavily drunk. At least in this point London was the same as Paris. The later the night, the smaller the chance to find clean food…
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Her eyes followed the fidgeting of his fingers and now noticed the forms upon his clothes. Was it statement? Roses were nice decorations and she didn't mean the Kindred sort but the actual flowers and the designs of it. Leslie had skirts and blouses decorated with roses upon it or along the edges. Sometimes with only one flower upon the collar or upon a pocket. The Gangrel saw nothing in it. She was no Rose but loved the flowers. If it was a way of marking then he would be getting into many mistakes. As Gangrel she didn't stamp herself with animals upon her clothes. Well not always that was. Nature just lay close to her heart. She did frown when he spoke English and revealed words that were better not heard. Silverstreet was a busy street and had to many ears around.

"A Rose in the North? I hope you won't get too cold." she giggled with her pun. "I am always happy when seeing new faces around. We have a vibrant city here and I hope you will enjoy it." Which was her way of saying he was welcome. "I would recommend not to use certain words out loud in a street like this." A touch of frost layered her words. She was a big fan of keeping the Masquerade as much as possible as she didn't want to attract any unwanted attention.

His attention towards the humans and his disappointment didn't go by unnoticed. Hunting was always harder when you had set Ventrue standards to your taste. For Leslie it wasn't about being special or snobbish but she liked a clear head. Whenever having fed of blood that was tainted with drugs or too much alcohol or anything else that messed with the senses she felt herself closer to her Beast. Dangerously close and she liked to avoid that. Frenzy was a dreadful thing. It let the Beast out which will rip through anything it desired and its way of thanking you was leaving behind an animalistic mark upon your body. While Leslie was all normal about it and even used the cuteness factor of it she did know very well that it was a disgrace and a sign of her weakest moments. It was just too difficult to keep sulking about it and would make her depressed so she made the best of it.

"They are what they are. Humans are even more destructive towards themselves than what we could do. I don't like it either. It makes it hard to find a good source but not all of them are into the nepotismic image of drugs and alcohol being harmless." Some still knew reality and while others saw it as fun they saw trouble or as not worth the consequences. However Leslie also believed in choices. Anyone could snort, drink, smoke or shoot whatever they like into their body and/or veins as long as it wasn't something she needed to do or be around it was all good. It didn't gain them any respect or even a "cool" factor. No. It gained them nothing even if they believed it did.

"It makes life interesting when you have challenges. We all make choices and that is theirs." she shrugged and watched Noël. "What did you do in Paris?"
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“A Rose in the North? I hope you won’t get too cold.” Noël rose a brow, when the girl giggled. What did she mean, what was the matter with Roses being Anarch? And why he should get cold? Was she a mooncalf after all?

He decided to go over this and displayed a gentle smile and a nod when she spoke of the vibrant city. Again he wasn’t sure what she meant about the “certain words”. Then he realized he had spoken English by accident. Was it possible to change habit so fast, speaking this language instead his mother’s tongue? Mon Dieu…

The cold fire still flared in his blue eyes when he listened to Leslie. The pleasure of feeding on this girls herdling echoed on his tongue.

You sure are right about them being destructive to themselves. That’s why I observe certain locations. Learning about the habits of the population of an area can be helpful to find the desired meal. I know I’m overly careful, but I hate my senses messed up by any drugs. The consequences usually tend to be unpleasant…

Noël spoke with his usual mellow voice and showed slightly curved lips as if mildly smiling. He knew Pierre wasn’t abstinent towards drugs and drinks as well. Obviously the decent dose of Kindred blood didn’t delete the drive to poison himself. Usually some flogging was an adequate remedy to keep him from tainting his blood for a while.

Choices, indeed. Unfortunately our creed for free choices includes bad choices too. I admit, noone is free of this flaw. It’s all about dealing with the consequences.

Again his features where softened a bit by a blase smile. The frost in his icy eyes didn’t melt from it yet.
When Leslie asked for Paris it seemed as if he became a little more vivid and his smile became less airy.

I’m a photographer and I own a little gallery in Paris where I expose some of my works. I’m processing the pictures I take, merge or divide them, whatever. Usually I’m taking pictures of a lot of things to work on it. I love to explore the poetry of blood, celebrating the many aspects of life and death.

After a short pausing, as if to take a breath between the words, his smile turned visibly a bit towards mischievous and his eyes had a new spark. Less frosty but still chilly.

Another aspect of my passion is the image processing… Whenever you need a photo look in a certain way, give me a call.

With this words he pulled his smartphone from the inner pocket of his jacket. In the cover of it Noël carried a few business cards, white with black letters. The information on it was very dry, only “de Gavrillac” and a mobile number.
One of these cards the Toreador offered to Leslie now. After all she was an ally.

Edited by Noel de Gavrillac, Wednesday, 24. June 2015, 09:09.
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Unpleasant? Ah yes she knew how that could go when the senses were numbed and the Beast could feel that. It could always feel that moment and it was waiting for it. It was hoping for it till you slipped up and made a mistake so it could consume your common sense and show you what was hiding under your skin. Something one tried to ignore and pretended to not have. They all had it but none of them, or most of the vampires, didn't like to show it off. With a smile she did think of the moments her old Tzimisce master made her ride the wave. The tricks he used were painful but he had found how to push and pull on her sensations and how to reach out to her Beast. It was a terrifying thought what could be done but she was safe now in Enfield, in her unlife and the personal world she had created for herself.

"We as well are destructive to ourselves at times. We as well have to make choices. We are in theory not so different in many ways and yet we are nothing like them." she shrugged a little and found his behaviour funny to watch. He was cold and probably calculated. He gave off a vibe of looking down on her and feeling better than anyone. It was as if he was detached from everything around him. It was rather creepy to her but when he spoke about Paris and his passion she noticed a flicker of something that resembled life.

"I will keep that in mind." she said with a nod while she took the card. Her fingers traced the name. It was simple, direct and emotionless like the man she had received it from. It suited him. "Photography of anything specific or whatever catches your eyes?" she curiously asked while tucking away the card for later if needed.
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The Toreador looked at the Kindred girl, when she took his card. He observed how her fingertip traced his name. Looked to him as if she learned his name and number by heart. Maybe it was a spleen o her? He shrugged slightly to his thought. Didn't matter anyway.

When she asked him about his photography, Noël blinked a little irritated. Didn't he just say, what was the subject of his art? The poetry of blood? Didn't she listen what he was saying?
Rule #7 behave respectful and careful to other Anarchs.
A mild smile remained on his face, when he tryed to explain his inspiration. How to explain a blind the moonlight?

When I am en route, I take pictures of many things. As you say, whatever catches my eye.

A group of drunken and rather loud Mortals left the club and teetering down the street, just passing the spot where Noël and Leslie were talking. Noël's eyes squinted and instictively he shifted a little to keep these drunkards from Leslie. Mon dieu, how he disgusted drunken people!

After the Mortals had some distance the French turned back to Leslie and offered the same gentle smile as before. Just his eyes still had a little chilly glitter remaining.

In my atelier I'm following my passion. Completing pictures, listening to my inspiration. Forgive me, the poetry of blood is hard to explain. Usually I let my pictures talk for themselves. You know how it is... an artist is the slave of his art.

A deep soft chuckle followed this statement. He remembered this line Pierre once had told him.

The only kind of slavery I accept...

His smile turned a little towards impish. Very slightly. But even his cold, blank eyes seemed to glitter along for a moment.

What is your passion Madame? What are you filling your nights with? Except saving newcomers from starvation?

The blond hoped Leslie would pass him some contact information too. It was a small step of settling in to collect the contacs to other free spirits.
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Maybe Leslie seemed a little distracted but she was surely listening and she was surely paying attention but more so to her surroundings and who was close by because Noël was still an unknown factor that seemed to have fallen into her territory without warning. With all the events of past months in mind she was indeed a bit more suspicious and even careful even though she was smiling and seemingly looked happy and had not vibe of menace around her whatsoever. The young one liked it that way.

She didn't want to come across as a threatening creature that people couldn't reach out to or talk with. No. She wanted to be accessible for all the minds that wandered out there and needed a talk or help. It was important to her and not just because she had an awkwardly emotional heart at times but also for her survivals. The more favours she owned the better. There was use in everyone out there if you had the patience to dig in deep enough and long enough.

There was something warm and passionate in his oddly cold words and demeanour. Leslie smiled and nodded but in the back of her mind she made a mental note that said to be careful around him. He was too calm, too rehearsed in his words and motions which made it seem without a touch of life which was even for a technically dead one weird. Or at least that was how Leslie felt it and saw it. Something that was "too" never was good. Of course it could be that Noël was still trying to find his way around London's shadows

Leslie extended her hand and gave him a card of the Queen Bee Enterprise. Which had the contact site on it where one could contact the business for a specific request and also had her personal number on it. Or one of her personal numbers. She actually had two numbers and a Dual-Sim phone so she was available on one phone with two numbers.

"For when you ever want to contact me again." she even gave a little bow to him before continuing. "I'm the typical Wanderer and yet I'm my own kind as well. My nights are mostly spend walking around and enjoying London. There is so much more I do but only when necessary. I love reading and music." There was no reason to explain herself to the fullest. She liked being a mystery as that gave her power even is she did or did not possess it really.
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