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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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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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Making it Count (NSFW - Triggers: extreme violence/gore); Attn: Tsar Ilya the First (Closed)
Topic Started: Sunday, 3. May 2015, 07:58 (306 Views)
Rui
Yuri's machine no. 3
*
"Take care of this. Use as much money as you need. Just do it somewhere away from here. In Camden, if you can. Make it count. Make it reach the front pages. Don't leave any evidence behind. And get one of the other two to film the whole thing. Ah! One more thing: Bring me his head. I need a skull... for an art project."

REALITY
Making it Count

Another muffled bloodcurdling scream was heard, within the decrepit walls of the abandoned warehouse, as a finger was removed with a large pair of cutters, and carefully placed in a box. A small box within the big ones that they were in. Was their God looking down on them, as Rui carried out his instructions?

The machine believed so.

He'd known. His Master had known, and that's why he'd send him to take care of it. Why he'd said to make it count. For months, Rui had suffered, after having been dismembered by the doctor. For months, he'd grown and had learned about his place in the world.

Those months, as his arms and legs had been remade by their God's blood, he'd been hidden in a room, so that no one would see the abomination that he was. It would have been bad for the products, as the girls were being trained. And so, unable to sleep much because of the pain, in between his lessons, Rui had watched shows and movies, on the laptop that Rostik had brought him - after machine no. 1 had made him understand that he was only machine no. 3, and what that meant in the Master's home. Resting back on the pillows, as Olga had left him, with what ugly sprouting limbs he'd had, which served as hands, Rui had learned a lot from what he'd watched.

A shopping trip had taken care of most of what he needed. The rest he'd bought online.

Dexter used etorphine; but googling that had revealed that, to hit a vein in the victim's neck, with a needle (and avoid killing him from an overdose), was next to impossible. Dexter was full of it. So Rui had decided to use chloroform, and found a web site that sold it. He'd also found a mask that changed his voice to sound like the machine that he was. With that, he'd bought a Terminator jacket, latex gloves, a black t-shirt, blue faded jeans, black leather biker pants and boots. And a nice costume for Olga as well. She even had contacts that made her eyes green. With their hair in swim caps, his under the mask, and hers under her wig, they were unidentifiable.

And they would leave no evidence. No hair, no tissue sample.

They were like the couple in Natural Born Killers, but much better, because they were perfect machines.

They would not get caught.

Finding the doctor's office had been easy with his name and phone number on the card that Master had given him. What he'd not expected was the shock that had come when he'd realized that the doctor was the monster that had cut him up... When the machine had come out of the elevator, that night, Rui had felt that he was going to be sick. He'd looked at him, as the doctor had made his way to his car, and relived his entire nightmare... Each of his limbs being sawed off again, the blood, the screams of agony, the helplessness... He'd fallen back against the concrete wall, sitting on the ground, and had remained there for hours, trying to control his fear.

The next morning, when he'd returned home, he'd told Olga; she'd hugged him and had given him something to eat. Then they'd gone to sleep for a few hours.

Just like Dexter, the following days, Rui had followed his victim to make out his routine. Once having picked the perfect spot to wait for him, where no cameras could see, the machine had grabbed him from behind, with thin potence powered arms; and, with his chloroform imbibed cloth, he'd put him to sleep. The rest had been just as easy: he'd shoved him in the trunk of his own car; had taken his keys, gone up to his office, and found the files of all of his victims, including his own. When he was done, he'd taken the doctor to Camden, where Olga was waiting with her camera. The location that Rui had picked was in the tower of an old abandoned warehouse.

A box that Rui, machine no. 3, ruled for his God.

"You have no reason to exist. Machines have a justification for their whole existence, and that is a good thing. But you don't, and that's a bad thing." said the deep, distorted voice of Rui-Terminator, as he cut another finger.

There were more screams, behind the cloth, as another finger was placed beside the others in the box. Rui then placed a bloodied gloved index to his lips. "No screaming." And removed the cloth.

The doctor felt that he was going to die, and was desperate to save himself, his voice merely above a murmur now. "No! I didn't do anything! You have the wrong person, let me go please? I won't tell anyone!"

"You take machines apart. You cut their arms and legs."

Olga-green-eyes kept on filming as Rui picked up another tool from the plastic sheet that he'd covered the old table with. He'd covered the entire room. There were no pictures on the wall before the saran-wrapped doctor. Rui had another idea for that. Yuri's machine no. 3 looked up at Olga, machine no. 2 to insure that she was getting all of that on tape.

Olga-green-eyes was smiling.

"Please, I help them! I only did it to help the families!"

Beg as he would, the Master wanted it done, and so there was nothing to stop the machine from continuing. Just like Terminator in the movie, Rui was a machine with a mission. A cloth was pushed back in the mouth, as the doctor was becoming too loud, and Rui didn't want to alert anyone to what he was doing. He looked at Olga and smiled lovingly under his mask. It felt good to have a purpose, to be functional again. A hand followed, carefully severed at the wrist, and then the other. The doctor was dying, but it didn't matter. Nor did the blood upset Rui. It had when his limbs had been cut, months ago - but not anymore. Now he understood that the blood was what fed Master - and that it was not so dangerous to lose some. Not when you were owned by a God.

The arms and legs were then removed, and the doctor remained alert longer than Rui would have thought; and then, as a final act for their Master, he removed the head of the defective machine. He severed it with love, attentively, as low as he could to the shoulder, hoping that Yuri would be pleased. That piece went into another box: a beautiful chest with red silk inside. Just like in the movies form the middle-ages. Only with ice packs too.

The rest was wrapped up individually in plastic, and then placed in a large sports bag, with more ice packs to keep it all fresh.

All but one piece.

The camera was turned off, as well as the large floodlights, and the room left as it was.

One finger was placed in a ziplock. Still wearing his gloves, Rui had Olga write, on a piece of paper, the address to the warehouse where they were and put it, with the bagged finger, in a manila envelope, pre-addressed to Aurora Stern, E.S., at the Evening Standard. Rui had taken her name from the article that she'd written about what had happened at his grandparents' house, month before. Amongst other cruelties - this being the lesser of them -, Rostik had made him eat that page of that paper, when he'd returned from his trip to Brazil, after he'd slept - but Rui had remembered the reporter's name.

He would make it count. And if his Master liked his plan, there was more to come.

The costumes were removed, placed in a bag, form whence two long black trench coats with deep hoods had been retrieved, and worn over their black swim caps and black, tight bodysuits. Rui cleaned Olga's make up, but she insisted on keeping the contacts. The doctor's car was driven to a wooded area, where it was left. A five minutes walk took both machines to a public restroom, where they shed the coats, and replaced them with black track suits, with deep hoods, and thin wool gloves. Nearby was a mailbox, where Rui dropped the stamped envelope.

Another twenty minutes in the woods lead them to phone booth. Rui called Rostik, and asked the higher ranked machine if he would come and pick them up. He explained that he didn't want to risk being seen in a cab.

When they arrived, Rui was tired - as he was still weak -, but he had the tape, the head, and the rest of the body with him, on ice. Even the doctor's files. He'd been careful to leave no trace, and was eager to see if their Master would be satisfied - and to share the rest of his plan with him. He only hoped that Yuri was home...
Branching off here
Edited by Rui, Sunday, 3. May 2015, 08:17.
Name is pronounced: ROO-EE. English #8F476B
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