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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
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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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Careless Inquisition; Ring-ring Leslie
Topic Started: Wednesday, 3. June 2015, 13:52 (407 Views)
Davvad
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~Keeper of Elysium~
* * * * *
Who would do such a thing? Who would want to attack the Prince? Was it Henry? Was Henry and his scheming faction of degenerates making a play? Were they moving in on the Camarilla?

Well at least they failed. Yet Davvad could not help but pace back and forth inside of his suite and conjure scenarios in his head of what has happened at Blythe House. How was it even possible for anyone to get into that fortress to attempt the Princes life? He was wrought with concern and calling the place, despite warning not to, yielded odd results.

This was maddening and strange. He needed someway to put his mind at ease. There had to be a way to find answers.

Time past. The night yawned on. He moved from the couch, to the desk, to the piano. He fiddled with keys and ideas. There was a certain desire to crack this mystery all on his own. Figure a way if Henry or the Anarchs were involved in this disaster.

It finally dawned on him. Going to the cracked table, he picked up his phone and flipped through the address book. He pressed the touch screen and tapped his finger against the back of the phone, he stood there, free hand resting on his hip as he stared down at the table in thought.

Was this a good idea?

"Hello Leslie. I know it's been a time. Do you have a moment to talk?"
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Leslie
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Flemish... furry... flirty... feline! (YODO) Perfection Purrs!
* * * * * * *
Cleaning. It still had to be done so spring cleaning was in order. Clean Havens were important. It was not because she was an undead creature and didn't need to breath or actually live that she needed to reside in an unkept heap of dust and dirt. And so the young Gangrel was hunting the dust bunnies and dirt monster with her broom and wet cloth, warm soapy water and a Demon. Her ghoul cat who was not happy with all the activity while it wanted to sleep on the kitchen counter. Its eyes were carefully following her every move to avoid getting splashed with water again for being too close or making a mess.

Her cleaning got disturbed by the ringing of her phone. She stopped what she was doing and fell down in the couch with a lazy sigh. That name... really? A smile played on her lips and she answered the phone after a few more rings.

"What a wonderful surprise to hear you again Davvad. What's on your mind?" she frowned. He had immediately asked for a talk and nit how she as doing. No pleasantries at all so something was on his mind.
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Davvad
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* * * * *
Her voice. It disjointed him for a few seconds, the silence after her reply was from him instantly regretting his choice of calling her. His eyes cast down and his hand shifted to slide into a pocket. This was the time for him to take a deep breath and get this unpleasantness over with. Goodness did he regret not keeping in better contact with her before this call was placed. Still, there was a lot to be learned. This had to happen. It was not the wisest intrusion, but it was a necessary one.

"Yeah... hey I'm sorry I have not kept in touch. I've been under a spell these past few months. But my call is urgent and important. Something awful has happened.

I need you to be straight with me here Leslie. Where is Henry Dawson? Are you working with him? Is Noel one of his spies who has attempted to overthrow all that we have here in London? Are you Anarchs so angry and thoughtless that you would try to dismantle the very foundation of our existence? BE Truthful with me Leslie. I need to know why this has happened and why your friends want to shatter our home here. This attempt on the Princes life. Tell me. Why."


The pianist tried to keep his voice calm, though it was much to hard to not suppress the rise in his tone as his accusations came out. The nights worth of thoughts poured into a singular statement. Henry, Noel, Anarchs. All of them worthless. Only Leslie had a warm feel in her words. It was entirely possible she was apart of this scheme.

He'd wait for her reply and determine how better to further his conspiracies.
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Leslie
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* * * * * * *
There was silence. One she took in and listened to with closed eyes wondering what this was about. Meanwhile Demon had come to nestle itself on her belly to get scritches. Her free hand nudged his head playfully and rubbed his side which made it purr out in pleasure. Then Davvad spoke again. Her eyes shot open and she wished he had kept his mouth shut. Pretty boys had the habit to say stupid things.

"If this had been anyone else I would have ended this call and given you a reason for such idiot accusations. First of all I have no idea what you are talking about. Secondly how do you know Noël? Thirdly we don't attack randomly whatever you meant with attempt on the Prince his life it wasn't us. We are not angry nor thoughtless. Doing such a thing would bring too many mindless followers into the real world and we can't keep on babysitting on spies who get in trouble. So that brings me to my last point: how dare you accuse us of such things? It takes one to know one, perhaps?" she sounded oddly calm but the tone hiding in her words were icy cold. He had clearly upset her.

The moment she had read that message of the attack she knew fingers would start to point in Anarch direction but the fact that Davvad would be the first one to call her out of the blue like this was a complete surprise to her. It was stinging her mind and poking into her undead heart. It was best to play dumb. She had the upper hand here. Henry being dead was an ace up her sleeve. That she as well could receive Camarilla messages was another one. Maybe he knew more without knowing and could give her additional information.

The biggest surprise was that he had outed the name Noël. How was that possible? What had Noël been up to? And why would he be linked to this after being recently arrived at London? This was not good. The Toreador might have gotten himself in trouble. Hopefully not! Then again getting connected to someone who was dead could mean Davvad was crying wolf. Needless worrying instead of searching for an actual attacker. Ah well... She would play along to see if she could get any information. Poor Davvad trying to make this kitty cat into a mouse. A cat remained a cat and he would remain a mouse in between her paws.
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Davvad
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* * * * *
He moved across the room and leaned against the window arch, his eyes cast out to the street through the raised blinds. He listened. She was almost serene in her reply. No strong emotions like they shared that night of Hospitality. Not to say she had practiced a response if she were to be quizzed about this manner before hand. To him, she did not sound so off put by this out of the blue call. He was certain there was something deep down at the root when she let slip the question of Noel. Was his theory starting to have some merit? Perhaps that blonde vile frenchman was not at the Muse to join with the clan of roses. Perhaps he was fishing for information.

"No. Not randomly. Of course it was planned out. Do not play coy with me. Rather you had a hand in this or not, I told you the Princes life was attempted at. Do not play innochild with me. The information is there, and of all the Anarchs I know, you are the only one with ties to the Camarilla. Perhaps your girlfriend was kind to give details on how to assault Blythe House?"

It was a bit dicey to drag Leslies lost love into this. Though for all Davvad knew she was never really lost, and she instead was a turncoat long before he even considered London a place to stay. Now though it was important to keep her on the line. Slinging mud at a loved one was a sure fire way to be ignored and insulted.

"Now wait. Wait. Hold on. Do not hang up on me. I know I have been absent Leslie. I've had a hard time adjusting to this city. I trust you, and I admire you. That is why I called you about this. Just reveal to me what Henry has done, how he was able to do it, and why he chose now of all times. Was Noel sent to the Muse to try and recruit the bottom feeders and hedonists of our society? The ones who might want more if there was no Prince?"

Tinfoil hat engaged. Though it made sense to Dav. The idiocy Noel spewed about the Camarilla during their introduction turned the Americans stomach. Only fools would listen to a man like that. They accuse the followers of the Camarilla to being blind obedient dogs. It was a better life to be a believer in something strong and true than a buy into a fantasy of disorder and spite.
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Leslie
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* * * * * * *
The more he spoke the more she growled. It was a thunderous sound rumbling deep within her and it awoke her Beast which started circling in its cage. This was not pleasing her ears and it was echoing the unpleasant accusations into her entire being like a flame spreading and conquering her soul. It trampled upon the crumbling parts of her heart like a stampede of wild animals. It stung and poked into a painful wound. It numbed her like a stake getting pushed through her heart inch by agonizing inch. Her reply came after a long silence while she sat up in the couch. She could see Demon hurry off because it could sense her mood darkening.

"For that remark alone I should open up the gates of hell and flood your precious thoughts on this subject with fire. Roses burn so easy like the small little flowers you are. Dare to say that again while staring at my claws?" she snarled at him while blood tears were running down her cheeks and leaving crimson coloured stains. She stood up and started pacing back and forth in the same motion her Beast was doing in its cage. Its claws tapped against the steel container she kept around it. It was feeding from the pain that oozed out of the wound which Davvad had ripped open.

"Why? Why are you doing this? Trust me, admire me? And yet you are using my trust in you against me by dragging my lover into this. She is gone. And so has your mind! Stop talking Davvad... I... I would hate to hate you but the more you say the less sense you make. Don't do this. Don't make this mistake. No one has done anything and if someone has I will find it out and they will get punished but this was not us!" she rubbed her eyes dry and sighed deeply. "Is that how you see me? Bottom feeder? Hedonist?" While she sounded hurt she was really close to storming out and track him down to rip his head off.
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Davvad
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* * * * *
A thoughtless sigh came from his lips. The sadness and anger in her voice was apparent in the receiver. He did touch a prickly spot, and it was possible just by mentioning the love of her life, those emotions could cloud her truth. He had to remind himself that this was no an official call. He was not under any order to go snooping about. Perhaps he was just being to bull headed, and this was all a mistake.

"No, I do not think you're a hedonist. I do however think Anarchs are keen to recruit those with no status or drive to be among the ranks. How else does one topple an established order? I believe you when you tell me you had nothing to do with the attempt on Bluchers life. But I've been among your kind Leslie. It was a false identity, but I was among them. When you have madmen like Henry running loose, doing what he thinks is right, even when the 'collective' does not; it creates a problem. Like the one we have right now.

I'm sorry to sling your name through the mud like this, I want you to know I did not bring this idea to anyone else. I called you first about this. The Prince is alive and well, and rather you want to admit it to me or not, rather you are even aware of it or not, someone in the Anarchs is not looking out for your interests. Isn't that terrifying? Leslie. How can you possible tell me you want to be apart of a group that plots assassinations to create disorder? We need to be less obvious to the outside world, not more."


He fell onto his couch, head against the armrest and feet lounging against the other. Dealing with the Sabbat in Pennsylvania, even though he was never really a player in those conflicts, seemed a lot easier than all the paranoia in London.

"I'm sorry.. you have to see what's going on here though, don't you? Help me figure out what is going on, before the Prince feels he has to send someone more learned than a pianist into the North and ask questions. I don't want to see people hurt. You especially."
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Leslie
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How on earth was it possible that this charming guy from many nights ago was now such an idiot who she wanted to punch her claws through. Preferably through his pretty face. He had touched a few painful old and new wounds that was making her pace around nervously. All that could be heard was that tremble in her voice when she spoke as if she was either trying to control not to end up sobbing or going into a frenzy rage and hunt him down. It was probably not the latter as she had a firm grip on her Beast but one could never be too sure what was going on in her mind.

"You have been among my kind as a spy. You have seen nothing but the wrath of some Anarchs who were strong headed. That was your fault, not mine. Remember that I was there to get your ass out of that mess safely. If I really wanted to topple something over I could have let you down the hole you were. I'll let you in on a secret.... Henry is not on the loose. So you don't have to worry about that. Your personal boogeyman is under control.

You don't know what the Anarchs are Davvad and by the sound of your false propaganda about the Camarilla you don't know what they are either. Are we not less obvious? Do we need play the Masquerade like it is written? Here in London we are doing our best to abide to these rules and yet you always end up with us. This phone call could harm the truce there is in London between your kind and mine. We have done everything to uphold our end of the truce. Believe me or not but whatever happened wasn't us. Maybe you should look among your own kind Davvad just like a few month ago with the attacks. That wasn't an Anarch either but someone who had been among the ranks of your precious Camarilla."


It was true. All the things that had happened lately had all been from within. The Anarchs didn't need to do anything except sit back and enjoy the joy. Meanwhile the Anarchs could establish a firmer hierarchy that would gain them maybe some more perks and win a battle here and there. They would be foolish to end this truce because now they had more cards up their sleeves than the Camarilla. Of course one could never be too sure about what the Camarilla was up to.

"I can take care of myself Davvad and so can my fellow Anarchs. It wasn't us and I wouldn't mind discussing that with the Prince himself instead of the spy who failed." Maybe she was being too harsh but he had poked too hard, too deep in a wound that still hadn't healed. Damn Roses and their emotional crap!
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Davvad
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~Keeper of Elysium~
* * * * *
This call was a mistake. He should have placed more thought into his theory before establishing execution for it. He took a heavy breath. Shaking his head. Closing his eyes. Popping them back open he stared up at the ceiling. The more she spoke, the more he was uncertain of her facts. What did she mean Henry is not on the loose? Did he leave the city? Or... maybe. Perhaps he was sitting nice and pretty with her. Pulling the strings. Maybe this phone call was expected, but not by Davvad himself.

He frowned.

"You're right. I was among you as a spy. Why do you think that was? I was, and still am, new to the city. The Anarchs have little desire to share who their Baron is so further diplomatic reasoning can be had between the two sects. When I inquired about just being apart of your group, I was beaten in an alleyway. Is that how an Anarch is initiated into the ranks? Beat them to a pulp until they are sufficiently broken? False propganda you say? I never was beaten for being who I am among the Camarilla, Leslie. Until I came to London, I never imagined how hostile the Anarchs were. Consider that. Only here in this city do I feel your group is a terror."

Rubbing his forehead, he could believe he was getting a headache. The strain was real, the pain more imagiantive. "I'll take your word for it though."

Closing his eyes again, he made a noise as if he was about to speak, but stalled as he collected his thoughts. "I'll believe in in that the Anarchs are not at fault for this crime. Just remember I was caught as a spy, and my plan was laid bare. What was the goal? To know a name. Not to learn where the Baron hides, or lives. Just a name. Can you piece it together?" It was all theory. "How else do the groups work together further if there is no communication? A spy was needed because of how unstable your group is. Consider that.

I really do hope this is all just a misunderstanding. I really do. I don't want you to die because of a wild gambit. I rather meet with you for years to come and get past all this. As long as people like Henry and his kind exist, we'll never be able to talk with ease."


He believed it too. From his own experience, the Prince might have sent him on a suicide mission. He had to forgive that. The volatile nature of the Anarchs in this city could not be forgiven though. If down the road they can live more comfortably, than their stay here in London had to be exploitive. A scene set to cause disorder and chaos. Maybe Leslie was not involved in all this. Perhaps she just wanted to live out her life and everything around her drew her into conflict. Or perhaps she was just a peon. Much like Davvad was. To him, he had a choice and she did not.
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Leslie
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The young one listened. Her chocolate brown eyes hidden behind close eyed while she rubbed her temple with her free hand. The other hand squeezed around the phone so hard she was sure it would crack. Which would be impossible, no? A small sigh escaped her. His words were filth she didn't want to hear. It was pusing her mind out of balance. He had no idea just how deep he was ripping through her emotions and her feelings. Her unbeating heart was cringing and it was more than what he had said earlier about Emily.

It was so much more. Her first nights in London. Young fledgeling, unaware of what she could do and where she could belong. That Sheriff back then who wanted to hunt her down because she knew no Sect and had witnessed a Masquerade breach had not been subtle. The Camarilla had tried to destroy her then. For what? Some information she did not possess. She sighed again and rubbed her eyes.

"A terror?!" she nearly screamed out with a trembling voice before she fell silent again. It was best to stop this conversation. "We are not unstable. It is not because we are different than yours we are unstable. Whether a Baron is around and willing to speak with anyone is not up to me. I talk and listen along our sides. That should be enough for now." she tried her best to sound calm and confident

"This is a misunderstanding but not from my part. Good night dear Davvad." and without waiting for an answer she ended the call. Slowly she placed the phone down and lay on the ground staring at the ceiling and letting the words of the conversation rush over her while her emotions and memories flooded her mind.
Edited by Leslie, Tuesday, 14. July 2015, 07:48.
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Davvad
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Before a word could melt off his lips further, the connection was cut. The phone went silent and the glow of the touch screen faded. What a mess this was.

It was not just a day, or two, or three that Davvad went about his business. Feeding, working for Russo, practicing his craft, learning how to be a better kindred. He was constantly thinking of his conversation with Leslie. It was obvious during the phone call that such an accusation was in poor taste. It did not become a thought until later of how dangerous it was to make such a claim. And to who did he make the claim to? One of the few people in the city that accepted him. If he had a beef with Henry Dawson, that was his problem. To drag Leslie into it and call her out was the lowest point he reached.

That feeling was only truly amplified when he read the e-mail from J. E. G. Henderson. At the time of the mail, it was still in his mind that the Prince might have fallen at the hands of the Anarchs; but the follow-up mail a short time later took all the color from his cold body.

"It was an inside job? What the FUCK."

More than ever it was clear to him. London was a dangerous city. If he was going to survive here, he needed to stop being so forward. He needed to make amends. He needed to apologize to Leslie. He had to make things right or she'd never speak to him again. Even if Henry Dawson was still plotting in their ranks, he can't let that beautiful girl think of him as a spiteful monster.

He just can't.
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