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| Hello, Doris? This is Marcus..; ATTN: ? | |
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| Topic Started: Tuesday, 21. July 2015, 09:18 (195 Views) | |
| Elagabalus | Tuesday, 21. July 2015, 09:18 Post #1 |
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Your Own Personal Jesus
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Mr Cornwall came waiving the latest edition of 'The Times' at Marcus. A smirk was on the ghoul's face as it made claims that he and Marcus had made the news. This raised alert and Marcus demanded to see the paper. Mr Cornwall barged into Marcus' room at the club with news that he thought was relevant. Marcus was relaxing and wasn't expecting to be bothered at the moment, but how could he not jump to attention of his name being mentioned in the paper? No 'uplifting' music was being played in the background while he relaxed, but he was enjoying a cigarette and a good brandy at the time. He was even in 'pajama' type apparel; pajama bottoms, no shirt, and socks. He studied the article looking for his name while the cigarette burned between his fingers. There was no mention, or even a description, of Miss Leslie, Svoboda, and thank god, no mention of a Marcus Russo being on the scene. The Times knew nothing. He continued to take a second look at the article just to make sure and spoke to Mr Cornwall while he did that. "We're not in the news.." he continued to study the article. "Their just talking about the fire.. Religious slogans? No, this has been handled already." He made sure again that there was no mention of any Kindred then looked at Mr Conrwall as if he was being bothered by him. "This doesn't say anything. Some eyesore being burned down isn't relevant to us. Get out of here." he fanned a hand at the ghoul. "What is this..?" he looked at the ghoul in disgust as it exited the room. He took a puff of his cigarette and then skimmed through the papers. Eyeing section after section, the words 'Soul Mate' caught his attention. An article from some woman(?) named 'Doris'. She listed her specifics in the Contact Section of The Times and he was everything that she was looking for. He was clean, young enough, he was healthy, and he was definitely descent. She was thirty-two. Even though he was twice her age, she wouldn't be able to tell that. She might even think they were the same age. A phone number was listed in the article and he began to dial it with total confidence in himself. There was no intention to love this woman at all. Things were going rough for Marcus so far in London and that wasn't good for the ego. Doris would understand if someone greater than her was to use her pain and suffering as a way to feel better about themselves. A lonely woman looking for her "Soul Mate" in the newspapers has to be desperate for the kind of attention that Marcus could offer her. ..No, I want to see 'your' medical records.. he thought as he dialed the last number and held the phone to his ear. The phone began to ring... |
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| NPC | Wednesday, 22. July 2015, 03:29 Post #2 |
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The Game Master
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[avatar=http://thespiritualcoach.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/Red-Phone.jpg][alias=Doris?]The phone rang three times precisely, before somebody picked it up. In the background, some old radio was playing a tune that had been popular at the turn of the XX century, one about a wife who murdered her husband because she loved him too much. Whoever picked up the phone took her time to reply. He could hear her exhaling a thick cloud of smoke... probably. Then came the voice; dense, like blood caramel; dark, like old blood; deep, like powerful blood; low, with the intoxicating threat of blood in the air. It was a female alto voice, so deep it made Marcus' ear vibrate. It had a very peculiar accent, very hard to place. It could be from anywhere between North Italy, Turkey, or Estonia. Or maybe from any other point in the globe. Definitely not native English. The pace was very slow, measured, as if every word was full of profound meaning. "You called. I knew. Who are you? Want to meet? I am tomorrow night, at ten, waiting you at the door of the National Portrait Gallery. Bring good portrait of you. With face and no more. And medical records. That is important. Medical records." The adhesive nature of her voice made her terrible grammar even attractive for a second. The radio, in the background, kept on singing about the loving wife killing her husband. |
| The NPC is not an admin nor does it have one singular user behind it. No PM's may be sent to the NPC and neither can you communicate with the NPC outside of role-play. Please contact Staff if you have any questions or queries. The NPC serves to only bring new information into role-play, members of staff have access to the NPC and will regularly be different people. | |
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| Elagabalus | Wednesday, 22. July 2015, 06:34 Post #3 |
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Your Own Personal Jesus
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A rush of excitement overcame him when the ringer stopped buzzing and he heard the noise of a radio in the background. He didn't recognize the music, therefore he didn't approve of it and stopped paying it any attention at all. However, hearing the music confirmed someone had indeed picked up the phone. It was suspenseful. The music; the silence; then he heard a deep exhale and he lingered on to it, expecting this Doris woman to speak after she collected her breath again. "You called." A large smile swept over his face when he first heard a voice. Nearly all of his teeth flashed in that smile. This was Doris! He would have gotten goosebumps were he still a mortal. "I knew. Who are you? Want to meet?"" His smile wanted to fade, but he struggled to keep it. He was excited about this call. It was sporadic. It was new. It was the rush of willingly throwing yourself onto an uncommonly walked path. He listened to Doris until she finished and by the time she was done he looked a bit worried and the smile was gone. She sounded odd, but her accent masked that quite well. He loved to hear an accent on a woman, but her choice of words, the pace of those words, and her outright demands made him a bit leery about the whole situation. Still, this Doris woman wouldn't escape the fury that Marcus had planned for her. It was a task that he had to fulfill because his mind was already made up to do so. "Actually Doris, we'll be meeting at eleven. The National Portrait Gallery is fine by me, but I'll need more information on where to find this place. And I do expect you to be there at eleven. I'm not from London mind you, so I'll need to know exactly where I'm going. Which borough is this in?" Doris' talk of pictures and medical records was overlooked. Marcus wouldn't be bringing any of those things to the meeting and so he didn't really care that she was asking for them. The best thing for Marcus would be to see her records since she was so much insistent on seeing his. "You should understand, I'm just as worried about my health as you are about yours, Doris. You're medical records will be needed also. Non-negotiable." It's best to show demand and authority right now. Doris was a woman, a mortal woman at that, and so she needed to be reminded of that. Demands made by mortals were not answered nor were they respected. Especially not of this nature. |
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| NPC | Thursday, 23. July 2015, 01:14 Post #4 |
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The Game Master
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[avatar=http://thespiritualcoach.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/Red-Phone.jpg][alias=Doris?]From The other side of the line, a deep, dense laugh spilled over Marcus' ear. The lady seemed to enjoy his particular brand of unintentional sense of humour. "You fun. Very fun. National Portrait Gallery is in Trafalgar Square. Don't you know? It is in Westminster. Easy. I am there at ten. Be there. Don't leave a lady waiting. I bring records, if you want. But you bring yours. Promise? I am hot for waiting. I need to meet me soul mate already. Aren't you hot for meet me? I have to go; my dinner is burning... so hot..." She seemed determined to hang up, but there was a very subtle hint of hesitation in her voice, as if she wanted to give Marcus the chance to say something... probably something a gentleman would say, but it could just be an unintentional pause, too. |
| The NPC is not an admin nor does it have one singular user behind it. No PM's may be sent to the NPC and neither can you communicate with the NPC outside of role-play. Please contact Staff if you have any questions or queries. The NPC serves to only bring new information into role-play, members of staff have access to the NPC and will regularly be different people. | |
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| Elagabalus | Thursday, 23. July 2015, 19:18 Post #5 |
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Your Own Personal Jesus
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Laughter? She was laughing? What was so funny? Eleven was a reasonable time. He would have to rise earlier than usual to be somewhere by ten. Having to be somewhere at ten even cut into his brandy time. It threw his daily routine completely out of the norm. Nobody in London listens. He started to grow a small amount of hatred for Doris. "Ten is still a bit to early, but I'm sure I can make arrangements. I'll be there. And yes, I'm.. eager to meet you as well. Enjoy your dinner and I can't wait to see you tomorrow. Have a good evening, Doris. " He pulled the phone from his ear and hung up. He didn't feel comfortable using words like "hot". It was such a primitive word to use. But he was eager to meet her. He would have to display his frustration for the chosen time through extra pain on Doris. At least he would still be in Westminster and that was a comfort. Now he had to find clothes that he wouldn't mind getting a bit dirty. |
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1:59 AM Jul 11