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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Calling All Gangrel!!! (No Scumbags Allowed!); Robyne Wants a Pow Wow! -- Attn: Gangrel
Topic Started: Saturday, 4. June 2016, 03:18 (762 Views)
Robyne
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-- Hound --
* * * * * *
In the Woods Just South of Beddington Park
9:45PM
Eve of the Full Moon, June, 2016


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{Animalism 1 & 2 Beckoning "Poe", "Bronx", and "Brooklyn", and "Luna". Feral Whispers.}


The Blood Hunt was over. An innocent young woman should have been peacefully buried. The Concord House Grand Opening was over and done with. The drug problem in Cheam was growing out of control. Punks in an abandoned amusement park seriously wounded her and brought her closer to the Beast than ever before. While things were quiet from Camden for quite some time now, that didn't mean the threat was gone or her investigations had been resolved. She still had her warning to figure out and still needed to figure out what this Almae Budun thing was. Things were not going well at all. Her confidence was taking a dive.

Her personal projects in Cheam were suffering and the girls who were looking up to her as their counselor and teacher or mentor were growing restless and impatient and worried. What was to become of their special ballet performance of Swan Lake? And what about Malalai? She must be depressed and lonely and hurt.

Things needed to drastically change around here and after discovering that there may be one or two new Gangrel in the London area, it was hopeful that she could muster up some help and finally implement some changes around here. It seemed her so-called Kindred peers needed a fresh reminder that she was trying to protect and defend this city. Hopefully if the Gangrel were more visible in London, they would start to take her warnings and threats more seriously.

With more eyes and ears around, perhaps she could cover more ground and catch and contain whatever was slipping into her turf more quickly and efficiently. And not just her turf but all the boroughs surrounding Camden and where the abandoned amusement park was breeding gangs and punks.

Summoning her critter friends... maybe the only friends she has and can completely trust, Robyne sets to work with her plans. She needs to get the word out to any Gangrel in the London area that she is hosting a little Pow Wow... a meeting... a conference... a whatever it's called... a Gathering-thing.... something. She is going to try and organize them, inform them of what's been going on, hopefully get everyone motivated to scout more, be more visible, take more action, and keep an eye out for suspicious activity in Sutton, Camden, and other boroughs.

She is sick and tired of getting rejected, neglected and pushed aside or pushed around. It's time the Gangrel were respected and treated as equals! And it was time for the scumbags on London to pay! It was time for some payback! Gangs needed to be pushed out of London... drugs needed to be swept away from vulnerable neighborhoods... Gangrel needed to be represented in the Primogen... there needed to be a watch over the forests and over Camden.... the Gangrel needed to be a team!

It was time for Robyne to kick some fucking ass!

Making contact with her friend "Poe" the crow, Robyne links minds and tries to convey friendship, love, compassion, but also a need. She tries to convey that she needs "Poe" to help her summon others like herself... those who feel the Call of the Wild... who are close to the Beast inside... who yearn for the full moon and green and the sounds of nature in their ears....

She summons her raccoon friends, the old immigrants from New York... the Raccoon Bros. "Bronx" and "Brooklyn". The bandit faced smart assess. Linking minds with them, she conveys friendship, love, compassion and a yearning to be their friend. She conveys with all her heart her hope that they can help her find the smiley one... the one she calls Siobhan... the woman who hopefully feels the Call of the Wild in her soul....

And to "Luna" she conveys love and affection and compassion and care. She worries that maybe "Luna" is too young and small a kitten to go out looking for Leslie. Yet "Luna" is eager and determined just as Big Red Fur Head is. It might take a long time for her to find Leslie, the orangey calico cat... but will do her best and convince her special human owner to help somehow. Robyne tucks a message in Luna's collar just in case... "Need to find an orange calico cat named Leslie," the note reads.

Malalai can help with Luna as well... Malalai can make some phone calls and arrange for rides to various places... maybe snoop around Concord House.

With the critters prepared, hopefully, she sends them each on their brave and courageous journeys to seek out the Gangrel of London.

"God I hope this works," Robyne sighs. "Someone has got to put a stop to all this bullshit."


Edited by Robyne, Sunday, 5. June 2016, 04:27.
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Robyne
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-- Hound --
* * * * * *
South of Beddington Park
Robyne's Favorite Tree Stump
Eve of the Full Moon, 2016
11:00PM



Messages were now sent and delivered... her critter couriers and companions will hopefully report and find either Leslie or Siobhan or anyone else that fits their descriptions-- and maybe other Gangrel she had yet to meet. Hopefully the Gangrel were being less reclusive and elusive than usual. The reach of her critter couriers was just so limited. She could try and call and send text messages but they might not get through considering how crummy the signal was here in the middle of the woods.

Quote:
 
Text to Leslie and Siobhan:

Nature Girl Scouts Pow Wow
South of Beddington Park
Full Moon, Summer Solstice
Time to Earn Merit Badges



Plopping down on a tree stump, Robyne continued to wait and continued to send out her critter couriers as far as they were willing to go in search of Siobhan and Leslie and any other Gangrel out in London for a Pow Wow. They really needed to get together and compare notes and get up to date on happenings. So much needed to be discussed and organized.

Animalism 1 + 2: Summoning Crows, Blackbirds, Magpies / Summon Cats, Squirrels, Bunnies / Summon Foxes. Feral Whispers -- All gathered animals.

Message conveyed: Love you my critter friends... love ya so much. Me nice. Me feed you nom-noms and goodies. Go find my friends Leslie and Siobhan and lead them back here. Mental images included.




Edited by Robyne, Tuesday, 21. June 2016, 22:05.
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Siobhan Lynch
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* * *
The pub was surprisingly tasteful given Siobhan's modest purse. True, she likely could have turned up without money and flirted her way through the evening, but that had always left a sour taste in the Gangrel's mouth. A good social exchange (fine, a good manipulation) did not feel like a burden on either party and as such she was always prepared to buy some of the drinks. That wasn't the limitation on her choice of bar, however. That restriction came about from her clothing.

For over a decade she had lived out of a backpack. Trailing after Rathbourne like a simpering idiot, bound and intoxicated by his attention, she had only shopped for new items when strictly necessary and, to please Him, she had picked durable garments over fashion. True, she still had the gown worn to the Elysium, but that was too far in the other direction. Plus, far too precious to waste on a simple Hunt. So she had adapted. Her mind on Astrid, she had dressed in her worn jeans (when did that become the only form of trouser she owned?) and dug out an old Metallica T from an ex. The Tshirt had probably been the best legacy of that relationship, he had worshipped the band and picked up one that was surprisingly comfortable. That made no difference to her as, fangs extended, she carefully tore the material, using slashes in the garment to display her bust and stomach. Add in her trusted leather jacket - okay, it had no studs or emblems but was battered to hell - and she headed out to find an alternate venue for her night's meal.

That had gotten her here, the bay window of The Bull's Head, sat twisted on her seat as she spoke to Thomas. He had come in as part of a crowd just after her and seen quickly fallen in with the group with smiles and banter. The pub itself was not what she had expected as she left her haven. It had cream walls and oak beams, split into small rooms with mismatched tables and chairs. It had a variety of oddments dotted around the place, from a malt shovel to a polished carriage wheel. Nothing in the decor said 'metal', yet it's patron's were predominantly of that persuasion.

That led to Thomas here. Siobhan and Thomas had a 'special' rapport. She had laughed at his jokes, he had laughed at hers. She slipped a little innuendo into the group conversation, he had turned it back onto her - that earned him a genuine laugh from the Kindred. Soon enough, though she had not laid a hand on so much as his arm, the others in the group were nudging each other, nodding to them and fading away. That was how the two ended up secluded in the bay window together.

Thomas was thirty-eight, divorced with no kids and a project manager. Others may have considered it a mistake to ask about the project when he started monologuing. Siobhan disagreed. People loved to talk about themselves, showing interest in that would do far more towards her goal than anything else right now. So she listened, nodded and laughed as needed.

"...conference call with the guys in Chennai and- is that a raccoon?!"

"That is the worst punchline I have heard in a long time, Thomas."

"No, I'm shitting serious. Look, out there, on the railing."

Sure enough, the bandit masked face peered at her and chittered excitedly as it snagged her attention. What the fuck? Must have escaped a zoo. Sorry little guy, this little Kindred needs to eat.. "So, the guys in Chennai were in this call and...?" It worked. Thomas picked up his tale and finished a bland, office-politics tale with a half decent punch line before the conversation moved on. Throughout the night, she faked sipping her gin and tonic and dumped splashes onto the carpet when she could.

It was maybe an hour later when the text arrived. Her knee was pressed against his and she leaned closer to see something on his phone, subtly pushing her shoulders forwards to let her top gape at the front. Almost no one had her number, it's chirp was a surprise. "Hey, that's old school!" Thomas seemed excited as she pulled a Nokia 3310 from her pocket and read the message. "...everything okay?"

"Ugh. Girlfriend being needy. Just a sec." Her fingers moved with remembered practise, 'Give me 40 mins,' she pressed send and turned to a disappointed Thomas with a grin. "Right. I have to go in ten minutes so the foreplay will have to wait. You got a condom? Good. Toilets. Now." It would never reach that stage, but she could stomach taking a drink in a cubicle tonight.
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Robyne
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-- Hound --
* * * * * *
Robyne had to angle her phone in a contorted way and stretch on her toes to get a signal that was more than a bar and a half. She was pretty sure her messages got out... pretty sure... kind of sure... well she was hopeful. And as she plopped down on a tree stump and waited, her humble little cell phone began to vibrate. A new text message was received.

Siobhan was 40 minutes away and on her way. Well that was good news. At least someone was getting her message. Two Gangrel were better than one. Twice as much ground could be covered. If Siobhan was willing to work with her. They didn't get much face time at the grand reveal of Concord House-- but with all the new arrivals and socializing and politicking, how would they? And what she needed to get across wasn't for anyone but Gangrel to get behind anyway.

There was a lot of ground to cover. Lots to talk about. She had plans. And the city still had some problems on its hands-- from where she sat. Drugs, unsolved murders and kidnappings... warnings... at least one Primogen about ready to go off the deep end....

She really wanted to make some headway with something. She couldn't do it alone.

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Leslie
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Flemish... furry... flirty... feline! (YODO) Perfection Purrs!
* * * * * * *
The night had barely started and she already received animals with gibbering flashes of a place, a person. Leslie frowned and she wasn't too sure what was going on. Instead she got dressed real quick in a pair of ripped jeans, black sneakers, and a loose old t-shirt with a faded drawing from some rock band on it. Before she left she gave Demon some food and stroked it's head while it purred.

The girl made her way to the roof of the apartment building and changed into her pigeon form to follow the birds to whoever had given them the assignment to find her. It was delicious to spread her wings again. Safety ruled the skies as she soared above the city and watched the brick world beneath her pass by. Houses dimly lit stood side by side packed together. Sometimes she wondered what happened behind those walls. Family dinners, lonely person ordering pizza again, two lovers fighting, an empty house... So many scenarios and a few she, at times, wished to belong to because she missed that. Her mind at times was too young to keep up with being one of the immortal monsters.

Her thoughts got ripped apart when the birds she followed were making their descent. The surroundings seemed familiar but she had been too distracted to be sure where she was. Once on the ground protected by the foliage she concentrated on letting her blood ripple through her with its power so the feathers got replaced by skin while her form stretched and took on a human shape again. She stretched when she stood back on her feet as the young woman she was. The cell phone that was hidden away in the back pocket of her jeans got retrieved by her hand to check the time. The time difference between leaving home and arriving now would give her a good indication of how far she was from home. However a message blinked on the screen. Her phone had been on silent and that's why this only got to her attention now. This was a message from even before the animals had shown up and the content made it clear what was going on. Well... sort of. Pow Wow? Merit badges? That would probably become clearer once she met up with Robyne.

Now that she knew where she was and who she was about to meet a stress fell from her shoulders and lifted het spirits again. Softly she hummed while following the critters. She put the phone in a front pocket because cell service out here was rather fickle. And then the red haired sweetheart appeared sitting on a tree stump with that worrying frown all sunken away in thoughts. Leslie lied her but also thought she should grow up and learn to live with the darker side of the world and the one within her. From experience the Flemish Gangrel knew how much that had helped her clear her mind and blur her conscious to an acceptable level so night to night unlife became bearable. The same would do Robyne good. You couldn't save everyone and some don't want to be saved in the world. Others just shouldn't be saved either way.

Calmly she approached the other Gangrel and as usual her words were kind and her voice was soft. "Robyne. How good to see you. Is everything alright with you?" Leslie sounded genuinely concerned. While she waited for Robyne to answer she sat down on the ground and used a rubber band to tie her hair together in a pony tail. Hopefully Robyne had forgotten about any wild investigations in parts of London that were too dangerous. But it was Robyne and as whispers went one could never be too sure about what Robyne was up to.
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Demon: Leslie's ghoul cat!

IA Business

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Robyne
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-- Hound --
* * * * * *
"Oh! Leslie! It's you! Cool! I am glad my critters found you and you got my message. Siobhan is on her way shortly. I mentioned some time back that we should all have a meeting-- a Pow Wow, if you will. I sent the weird message because I didn't know who might be looking over your shoulders or who might be answering cell phones... figured you and Siobhan would understand," Robyne began, rising from her tree stump.

"I am hoping other Gangrel would also show up but we shall see. I wanted us to gather up so we could all compare notes. There's been a lot going on lately and there have been some disturbing new developments since at least you and I chatted. Quite a few Gangrel have gone missing or decided to skip town since the Blucher assassination... and since that assassination, I have been noticing some odd developments."

Robyne sat back down on her tree stump. "First off... I hope you are alright. I don't know which end of London you call your turf and home but I got a few things to say about Camden... some good and bad and weird. The good news is, I think... it seems things have quieted down in Camden quite a bit. I haven't caught any news about any new murders or kidnappings. It also seems the police have caught a suspect they are investigating. This is kind of old news actually... but the thing is, just because it is quiet in Camden, doesn't mean all is hunkey-dorey over there. I know Mr. Russo has some plans or investments in that ballpark... he's going to have a rude awakening I think. When I poked around Camden last, I encountered a little warning. That's the weird and bad news in one."

Robyne produced a stone-- dark stone. Carved mysteriously within the stone or rock were the words, "Go Away".

"This was left for me to find as I was investigating Notting Hill and around Hyde Park. I was planning to make a trip around London Zoo as well, the site of the mass grave reported in the papers... remember? I got permission from Prince Henderson to conduct an operation there and look for evidence of who might have been behind the London Zoo Massacre and those satanic-like murders and stuff."

Robyne glanced around the woods and sniffed the air, then continued.

"I haven't gone back to Camden since I was given this warning but I am planning a trip to the zoo at some point. I wanted to get more information and try and gather up some back-up first. I talked with some Tremere who tried to do some mojo on my warning stone here. All they could do was come up with some kind of name or phrase... 'Almae Budun'... I have no idea what that is or what that means. It's Arabic though and whoever it is or whatever it is, it has something to do with this warning and may be lurking about in Camden."

"I thought I would gather up all the Gangrel and warn them that Camden is still hot. There might not be any killings or kidnappings, but the masterminds behind the massacre are still at-large and I suspect they will be for some time. Lots of clues indicate Satanists, cultists, maybe this group called the Baali... or whatever this Almae Budun are."

Robyne paused and sniffed the air. "I sure hope Siobhan isn't lost getting here...."

"There's much more, but I figure I should wait for Siobhan and any others that might show up. So how have you been? What is up with that Mr. Krusen guy slobbering all over you? You had like half the guys at that shin-dig at Concord all over you. Get anything useful out of all that glomming?"
Edited by Robyne, Monday, 25. July 2016, 21:08.
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Siobhan Lynch
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* * *
There was no danger of Siobhan breaking the masquerade as she left the gents. True, she was flush with fresh vitae but her saliva had done its work and sealed the wound whilst her prey slumped in a daze on the toilet, sure that he had just had the time of his life. She pushed through the door, giving the startled woman nearby a knowing smirk before heading towards the exit. One of Thomas's friends raised his eyebrows to her, but a wink and a nod towards the toilets gave him all the answer he needed.

The young Gangrel stepped out of the pub and fished in her pockets for a moment before she pulled out a now ancient Nokia 3310. It was woefully backwards, yet sturdy and had survived her decade of servitude despite the odds. Her practised fingers moved over the keypad, bringing up the cryptic message from Robyne. Siobhan frowned. What was with the clandestine message? Honestly, it was so bizarre that others seeing it would be compelled to to comment.

She pushed the thought aside and glanced up and down the street, confirming her bearings. Beddington Park could be further away from her position, certainly, but it was not close. A quick rifle through her pockets confirmed what she already knew - that she was broke - and, with a sigh, she turned into the correct direction and began a mile-eating stride to cover the distance.

An hour and change later, over twice the time she had messaged to Robyne, found the Gangrel glancing about the street before scaling the fence to enter the park. As a mortal, Siobhan had frequented the gym as a matter of vanity, keep her ass tight, belly flat and limbs toned, but climbing was not the norm for her and any shreds of dignity she may have held scattered when she crested the top and plummeted eight foot to the floor.

She hit with an 'oomph' and forced a laugh as her Beast thrashed in frustration. It loathed the feeling of being prone as much as she loathed the feeling of it influencing any part of her. The chuckle infuriated it, but in a way she knew brought her stronger control. It also brought a chittering from her left and, turning, she saw a raccoon a few feet from her. Two raccoons in one night in London? I smell fish. She kept her motions slow and unthreatening as she leaned close, meeting it's gaze.

"Hello little sir. Did you enjoy my show there? It's the Siobhan-lands-on-her-butt trick. Funny eh? You should be this side of it. Did I see you earlier? Ah, and you want my attention for... gotcha. Mind leading me to... thanks!"
She pushed herself to her feet, dusting down her jeans and battered jacket - noting with a sigh more scrapes down one sleeve - but deliberately ignored her hair as she followed the small, bounding form. It was only lightly mussed and a scattering of small debris wouldn't matter for now.

It took five more minutes before she heard the eager tones of Robyne bouncing to her lobeless ears. She snorted, her smile widening and spoke before either party could see the other - or the raccoon could spoil her entrance. "Hello the camp," she declared before stepping into sight. She flashed a toothy grin at Robyne and lifted her hands to rake her hair back to order. "Robyne. Sorry I'm late, you caught me hunting and I forgot to rob some cab fare off the sap. He was tasty thought." She added as an afterthought with a shrug before turning to raven haired victim of Robyne's enthusiasm. Siobhan shook her hair out, stepped close and offered her hand.

"Leslie, right? I saw you at Concord House, I'm sorry we didn't get a chance to meet properly then. Siobhan Lynch. I guess I'm the baby of the group, huh?" She glanced between her two clanmates. "So, what's going on?"
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Robyne
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-- Hound --
* * * * * *
"Right! Well, I was just updating Leslie on a few things but now that you're here, I'll give my full, semi-prepared speech. The thing is, we need to get organized here. Ever since Skuld the Viking Barbarian Warrior Princess and Leo Fleming disappeared... and since the assassination of Prince Alarik Blucher... and the London Zoo Massacre... and other issues, the Gangrel have diminished and the problems have increased," Robyne began, standing on her favorite tree stump.

"Camden may be quiet... but that doesn't mean the ones responsible for all the kidnappings and killings have all been caught or that the problems have been entirely solved. Just a few weeks ago... maybe a couple months ago, I went investigating and came away with a warning. A stone carved with the words, Go Away!... The message was carved in a rock in a strange and mysterious way by something the Tremere call 'Almae Budun'. Something Arabic. I plan to head over to the London Zoo to try and learn more."


"The thing is... things are happening all over London and no one but a few seem to be taking any notice or taking things seriously. And while I have been trying my best to stay on top of things, I realize I can't possibly do it all alone-- and no one seems willing to take my warnings seriously. Up until now, I have only been solo. As you arrived, Siobhan, there is an increased chance that maybe the Gangrel will be taken more seriously. The three of us have to get organized and start letting the Camarilla and Anarchs know, the Gangrel mean business and that we are on the job."


"In Sutton, there is a growing drug problem... in Camden, there may be a serious Sabbat or Satanic cult threat or Baali threat or whatever now in hiding, kidnapping and killing innocent people and potentially poised to breach the Masquerade. A mass grave had been uncovered some months back on the fringe border between Camarilla and Sabbat territory-- and no one has lifted a finger to investigate it seems... at least officially from the Camarilla end, to my knowledge. The Prince has given me permission to investigate and use whatever resources I can muster. We need to do something before we are caught off-guard again and taken by surprise."

"There are also reports of some kind of gun smuggling going on in some area of North London... I saw it on some internet blog thing. We need to look out for that too. Gang activity is on the uptick. If we don't get organized and do something about these issues, London as a stable city for the Camarilla and for decent Anarchs, will be threatened."


"If there are more Gangrel in London, we need to gather them and share what is going on. We all need to be alert and vigilant! And at some point we need to come together to appoint and elect a Primogen that can be respected and one who can help raise the status of Gangrel here in London. I don't want to see us getting pushed around or misrepresented. I am sick and tired of feeling like we're no good. Already I have seen the clan insulted with a stupid nameplate on the Primogen plaque calling us 'Wildlife'... fucking 'Wildlife!'... and the Primogen of our clan a 'Wildlife Organizer'! We are not wildlife! We are Kindred... we are Gangrel... we are not animals or savages or beasts that jump through hoops or ride unicycles at the crack of some whip... we are not clapping fins and barking for treats either. We have hearts and souls and brains goddamn it... and if we don't rise up and show these morons what we are truly made of, then we will never get anywhere. Go and visit Elysium, see the plaque for yourself and then tell me how it makes you feel. One of us has got to be Primogen to shut down this clan hatred and disrespect."


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Leslie
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Flemish... furry... flirty... feline! (YODO) Perfection Purrs!
* * * * * * *
And cue the express train of a whole lot of words coming from the redheaded Gangrel. Leslie always felt the urge to shush her and hold her so she could rock her back and forth and calm her down. Although on nights that she was being cranky she more so felt the urge to slap her face and shake her violently awake that this is the real world with real monster that didn't only exist out of vampires. Her index fingers found the side of her head to rub her temples while she closed her eyes and soaked up the amount of information given. Robyne had clearly been busy with making an attempt on saving the world. Unsure about how to react she tried to answer in between the rambling if the redhead.

"I am glad to be here. And to see you are fine Robyne. You need to relax a bit again. The fact that Gangrel have been disappearing is nothing worrisome. We are a wandering race and we come and go like the wind and with the wind. We are not the kind to leave farewell notes. I would not let that fester unnecessarily in your mind."

A small groan of annoyance escaped her when she mentioned Camden. It wasn't easy to keep her mind away from that place but Leslie didn't want to share that she had been cleaning up the streets slowly but surely. Instead she needed to spin this one around one way or another. "Ever since your pondering thoughts have been stuck in my mind I have been stalking around the borders. It has been quiet now. Camden is mostly shadows trying to scare you but they seem empty shadows. Whatever you have been doing has been working as a warning I think..."

Russo? That Ventrue? That annoying and sneaky backstabbing, gold digging Ventrue! Her fingertips dug into her knees and she tried to hold back growls. That guy needed to leave her grounds alone and she needed to find out where he was doing business. This was a war she wanted to win and get advantage out of. If possible. The stone that held the warning gave her the perfect excuse. If Robyne allowed it Leslie would grab the stone and watch it closely. She would sniff it, touch it, let her fingernails scratch it and even lick it but it was useless. The stone was a stone. "The Primogen? It is said he is a very proper. He has business in Camden you say? Do you know where? Because if this stone is indeed a warning he might have disturbed something. I hope not. He is a fine gentleman, don't you think? You probably know him better than I do." she curiously and sweetly deployed at Robyne.

It seemed Robyne had been snooping in and out of the borders and now Leslie was confused on where the warning had been. Camden or in Camarilla grounds? Yet it didn't matter if she got enough information out of it and maybe she could help here and there to earn some more perks and honour from maybe the Prince and others. However she needed to keep everyone out of Camden!

"You are focusing too much on Camden. Didn't you say the biggest massacre was in London Zoo? That is Camarilla ground. Maybe an old friend from your late Prince who is still active as that satanic cult thingy? That is your best bet. Not to mention London Zoo is very popular so someone knew they wanted attention and deliberately there. The Camarilla has been under constant attacks lately. I don't know what Blücher did but he called upon some messy things. Who knew what he promised to the cult." Was it mean of her to stir trouble like that? Probably. Hopefully it wouldn't miss it effect. Besides no one knew what business the old Prince had been conducting so perhaps he had gambled the safety and sanity of London. Baali sounded as strange as this Almae Budun. Both were a mystery and not one she wanted to unravel really because, in all honesty, Leslie wasn't too keen on knowing that there was something out there keeping an eye on all of them.

The change of subject happened so fast that Leslie merely blinked before looking down. She felt like a gibberish teenager once she started talking. "I am doing good. Thank you. It was nothing really. I like talking to people and I like showing that us, Gangrel, don't need to be bewildered half animals that only growl. We can be proud women as well and show beauty. You know the secret really isn't in having model legs or smoldering eyes but in letting them believe they are important to you. That they are the only ones who can make you smile. And then they will get hooked on your attention like a drug. It doesn't always work but when it does you can be in control." With a chuckle she shook her head. It was partly a lie though because not everyone who had been there had been given that treatment but that was her secret and hers only.

Suddenly the rustling sound of leaves being invaded gave away that someone was nearing in on them and that someone was Siobhan. Leslie stood to shake her hand and nodded. "That is correct. Pleasure to meet you in a more natural habitat. I hope you are well. Baby or not if you have claws you are one of us."

And there she went again with the rambling. If there was one thing for sure about Robyne then it was that she was tenacious. Leslie sighed and tried to stay calm. "I think you need to get a few things in perspective here. North London is far away from where you are allowed to be. Drugs and guns are human issues. Leave that aside. That has nothing to do with you. They are a destructive species. The Prince can not order investigations out of his own turf. A task that is up for the Sheriff by the way. If he isn't doing anything it probably isn't that important.

I have no idea what Baali is. The satanic cult was at the very heart of the Camarilla by Camarilla. You are making conclusions that don't add up. Ever thought about the fact that maybe someone is just trying to trick you into leaving the real issue within the Camarilla alone? Maybe more were with Blücher in on this whole cult. Any of the Primogen who knew him or the current Prince. Nothing is for sure."


The Flemish Gangrel shrugged some and felt bad for the fact she was spreading thoughts that were most likely not true but she had to do something to get Robyne on the right track or a curved track to lead her away from London. Leslie actually liked the new Prince. He was kind and had been good to her. A guilt was cultivating within her and she had no idea what to do with it but so were politics and she needed to protect her new grounds.

Unsure about how to react about the name plague she merely blinked and hoped that Siobhan had something to say about it. It felt rather insulting. Wanderer was better. Even Animal was considered an insult by many while Leslie didn't mind it really. Much depended on how the word was used and the tone of it. One of us? Primogen was in theory independent but everyone knew that wasn't a very true fact. Besides that needed to be someone old with stories and marks that showed that he or she was experienced. Someone's who's claws were tougher than all of them and possessed the ability to think about the Gangrel, for the Gangrel and only the Gangrel. Not the humans, not the politics.They had to fight for their own existence and not that of another. In the end humans were like cattle, a herd, to control and guide without them knowing it. The thought scared her as it was an old one from when she had been indoctrinated with the Sabbat but with her latest endeavours she had noticed that some old values weren't at all that bad when placed in a different light.
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Siobhan Lynch
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Siobhan gave Leslie's hand a gentle squeeze - she had nothing to prove from such a gesture, though the resilience of their heritage had toughened her skin - and kept her reply light, "No claws, just an irksome beast mark. Guess who got the short end of the stick?" The two women separated with a small nod, their attention turning to Robyne as she speak.

No, not speak. Preach. Siobhan fought the urge to roll her eyes as her clanmate spoke, skipping from topic to topic with passion, watching as her gestures became more emphatic, more frantic. A troubling thought arose as the mass of red hair shook and twitched. Could she work herself into a frenzy? While Leslie looked capable of holding her own, Siobhan knew that her own combat skills ran somewhat closer to "get punched", "get stabbed" and, in present company, "get clawed." Hardly a desirable outcome, and she could ill afford the time and money she would likely need to heal, assuming she survived.

She made no move to answer as Robyne's speech ended, her default status as the youngest leaving no awkwardness to the act and allowing her to gauge Leslie's words and get an understanding of the anarch. She was calm and rational but she held back the mental relief, much of that would be as a counterbalance to Robyne's passion. Leslie's patience now was not sure indicator that this was a dominant character trait, merely that she was capable of such when needed. Still, she mentally filed the detail away as was her longstanding habit.

Leslie was terse, too and soon enough the attention of her clanmates fell onto her. Guess that's the curtain call for tonight then.
"Wildlife." Her murmur was clearly audibly to the others, just as her amusement was evident in the timber of her voice and the spark in her eyes. She took a breath, a human habit she had not yet forgotten, and sobered. "Everything you have said is concerning, Robyne, but it being a concern does not mean it is our concern."

The brunette paused, her brows knitting together as she winced. "Damn, that was far lower on the bitch scale in my head. I mean, like Leslie said, that many of the concerns held are the provinces of others, not our own. You're going to think me callous, aren't you? Knowing there is gun crime and not taking action. Sweety, right now I don't know how to pay the next month's rent on my shithole haven - we all have concerns we have to deal with.

"That does not mean we ignore them all, though."
The laughter was a distant memory as she met Robyne's gaze with an intensity that she rarely revealed. "There are matters we can and should deal with. Quite what they are right now though, I cannot say. I'm new and still getting my feet under me in London. Some are out of our remit - yes, that is a factor - and most of the rest I simply lack information for. Time and effort on my part can solve that last at least.

"Three things I can address right now though. First, the title. We're meeting in a park, you beckoned us with animals and.. yep, I still have twigs in my hair from my highly dignified fall over the fence. What part of that opposes that moniker? You want us to dress in fine gowns and waltz with the Toreador? We can. We showed that at Concord House. Then we have out meetings out here in the pseudo-wild. Is the title apt? Robyne, you literally sent wildlife to bring us here.

"Secondly, there's the position on the council. Robyne, you think that the council position will allow us to be heard and have respect? Robyne, we are heard. Anyone with a voice is heard, what we need is to be listened to and having the position of Primogen is not the same thing. You want us to elect a Primogen? Be honest, you want us to elect you. And as Leslie is an anarch - at least, so I was told at the party...?"
Siobhan glanced to Leslie, both for confirmation and to get a quick estimate of the older Kindred's view in light of Siobhan's words. "Right, so you mean me to vote you into power.

"Robyne, you have not earned my vote. Not yet. You want to discuss reasons, we can. We're not the Ventrue, I am not waiting to stab you in the back or hold things over you. And I'll say right now that I have my eye on the position, however I think my youth and recent arrival pretty much discount me right now.

"Which brings us to thirdly... Robyne, there's not an easy way to say this, but you need to work on your speaches. There's two of us here as your audience, yet you televangelised like we were a crowd to be addressed, not equals met for a discussion. You are passionate, which is very much a good thing, but you let that passion dominate how you speak and addressed us as inferiors to be spurred into action. You spoke to a crowd and all you had was a pair. I am not saying be less passionate, I'm saying channel your passion to work for you."
Her own speech done, Siobhan settled back with arms folded over her stomach. She had spoken earnestly and without guile as, for once, that suited her needs best. She had been honest throughout, except perhaps her hinting that she may support Robyne in the future. That she deemed unlikely as, unless she could control herself better, Siobhan saw no way she would be effective on the council. She made a faint gesture of her hand, indicating that she was done and looked between the others for their thoughts.
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Robyne
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Huh. Well this is a bummer, Robyne thought. These two obviously weren't seeing things quite the same way as she was. Was she supposed to be surprised? Well she said her peace and that was about all she could do. She was not about to point a gun to their heads and make them think as she did. Leslie was shrugging things off... and advising her to pretty much do the same. Siobhan was looking at her as though she crawled out of a toxic chemical spill.

A silence fell. What could she say? She knew what she wanted to say but it seemed like she had already done that aleady-- with all sorts of emphasis. Could she say it a different way? Would they just hear the same message anyway?

"I may not be blessed with hundreds of years of experience... and as many years' worth of callouses and indifference and who the fuck cares attitude. I said what I wanted to say and at least you listened. I guess the rest is up to you guys. I know what I need to do, and I plan to do it. I wasn't put on this Earth to just sit and watch when shit hits the fan. Especially when I know I could do something-- obviously not everything-- but something. And from where I sit, something is always better than nothing."

"Am I wildlife? Am I some brute animal that needs to be trained and tamed with the crack of a whip? Am I some savage? I say no. I know who and what I am-- and how I treat most others is not the work of some savage animal. Of course, do I go ape shit? You bet-- the rapists, the child molesters, the pedophiles... you want to talk about wildlife, there you are. I'm not the type who is going to sit and wait till the last minute before disaster strikes. I am here to make a difference. I'm nobody's pet and nobody's juggling bear on a unicycle or lion poised to jump through some fiery hoop."

"I gathered you here to share what I have seen and what I think is going on. I am trying to invite you to help-- but maybe your lives would be much easier if you walked away and hope someone else sorts the messes out for you. Well... I don't trust the Ventrue are going to care about anything but themselves... I don't think the Brujah have the numbers and would be able to help with just one Sherriff and no help... forget about the Toreador... may as well write-off the Malkavians too.... If we can help keep this city together, we should-- not because it is easy... but because it's the right thing to do. Unless you want to just sit and polish your claws and fluff your fur and wait for someone to place a fancy collar on you and crack the whip."

Robyne was feeling heated. She feels so convinced of what she is doing and feeling. She can't help it. She backed away from the both of them. "I've said enough. I got work to do. I'm going to shut up now before I say more that I will regret saying. I'm sorry-- but this is who I am. I got to do something."



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Tap-tap-tap-tap the noise on the keys filled the cluttered room full of junk. The music had stopped twenty minutes ago but Elrick was furiously smashing the keys as he wrote a seething reply on some internet forum. The amount of nerdiness that went behind the infernal blaze of passion as he manifested his feelings into the plastic bits of blocks was far to much. For him it was an odd way to release some stress. Violently ruining someones argument in the cyberspace. Especially when he learned they were not the type of person to reply with a 'lolumad'. No this slime deserved the literal lashing that his mind conjured up. He didn't go to University to let all that information go to waste.

'Raaaaaaa! Raaaaaaa! Gathering! At the park! Gathering! Raaaaaaaa! Bedington! Raaaa!'

Ears twitched and his fingers stilled. A claw on his deformed hand dug between the keys as his most beloved bird Archimedes chirped and squawked at him. The ruffled haired man who was sitting at his desk stood up and went over to his pet, letting the grey and yellow cockatiel hop up onto his arm. Together they went to the window. Together they saw Poe the Crow swooping past. The bird having a sense that the wild blood rested here.

'Raaaaaa! Bedington! Raaaaa!'

Once more, this time, Elrick observed the bird and let the crow speak to him. The pea brained feathers and bone relayed the information needed before soaring off again.

Elrick retreated back into his room and began to pet Archimedes on the top of his head. The exotic creature closed his eyes. It's beak parted as it enjoyed the admiration from it's owner.

"Good-good! Such a sweet bird. Letting me know of the crow outside, knocking at my chamber door. A gathering we will go, that is for sure. And then I will be the one knock-knock-knock on their door. Only there-there we will find acceptance."

He returned his bird to the perch and fetched a few more bits of feed for the dish. He began to strip all his clothes off till he was as naked as one could be with bestial markings covering parts of his skin. If he was going to attend a gathering, small or big, he was going to go in traditional Stolz Schwarzwald style. From a corner of the room he grabbed a bag. Inside were dark grey britches. Loose forming that reached from his waist down to his ankles. A thick cord was slipped through cuts in the fabric so he can tighten it to his body, keeping it from falling. His chest he left bare. His hair he did not brush, letting it remained as wild and untamed as he often appeared to be.

There was no reason to dress up fancy for a gathering.

Looking at the time, he judged it would take near an hour to fly to that side of town. Less if he pushed himself. Having fed yesterday, he'd have to be conservative with his usage.

Through the gift of his heritage, within the privacy of his room; Elrick shifted his mortal frame into the tiniest of winged creatures. He landed next to Archimedes and pecked at the bird, getting a peck in reply as they lightly fenced with each other. They botch ruffled their feathers and whistled in amusement--- then out the window he went.

Flight Form


Entering into the tree line south of the park, he flew around for a few moments before he saw three women lazing about with one another. He flew through the branches and leaves, picking up buzz words from the most fearsome redhead. She droned on and on about something ridiculous. Nothing he was entirely paying attention to. He wanted to make sure the sense did not lie to him about who these women were before he'd swoop down and reveal himself.

At the tail end of Robynes words---whatever they were- Elrick perched himself on a rock that angled just outside of the three women. Not to far away that they would not notice him.

He flapped his wings and made a lot of fuss. Cawwing and whistling. As he went on with his verbal cries of incoherent chirps, he would remorph his small avian self back to his human figure. The women would be able to watch the prideful gangrel start to form bit by bit. His lightly tanned skin, his thin framed that made him appear malnourished and without muscle. His unkempt curly hair and the black fur on his right bicep, all the way down to his fingers where claws formed from the tips his fingers. Short and sharp. Hidden inside of his gray pants was the wimpy field mouse tail which curled weakly around his leg so the tip would not peek from the cuffs of his pants.

The commotion he made shifted from a lot of non-sense bird noises to a hearty chuckle. He was giving them all a big smile. There he crouched on the rock. His hands on his knees and his hazel eyes pierced them all in observation. A slight shadow of manfuzz on his chin and jaw.

"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ooohhh! I hope I am not to late to the party!" He said enthusiastically. To him he was in a delightful mood. Excited to see other gangrel here in his home city for the first time. To them, they might find him to be mocking; perhaps. His native London accent persisted through all his years out across the sea in other parts of Europe.

"Three exotic breeds of ladies all for me to enjoy company with-and I thought I was going to be an outsider in my own home-but now I have much more to look forward to!"

His eyes flicked between them all, admiring them in kind. Stopping at Leslie. His smile persisted. There was still a lot to think about from their meeting, but that was not the hotbed topic for him tonight. Tonight, she was a gangrel. Same as he. There was no Camarilla or Anarch of Shovelheads. Just the children of the forest.

"What matter of fun are we having tonight? I hope it's not terribly serious-I mean we should do more than just fuss about politics-if that is what you're doing." He let his legs slip out from beneath him. He sat on the rock normally, letting his legs dangle and hands cupped between them.

"I am Elrick of the Stolz Schwarzwald Pack. Now! Who wants to hear a story?" He said with delightful glee. He was really hoping this was going to be a gathering of fun. If he only knew the hard topics Robyne was wanting to discuss, he might have stayed home.
Edited by Elrick, Monday, 15. August 2016, 01:47.
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Robyne
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Robyne jumped, startled by the approach of a new visitor. Totally unexpected-- but totally welcomed. Another Gangrel! Cool... and her frown was turned upside-down... ish.

"I could use a good story... or good news... or anything that's good. I'm Robyne Sheridan... my friends call me Autumn... I called this little meet and greet. I'm from Cheam. If you got a story, by all means. I'm all ears under all this hair."


And just like that Robyne plops down on her favorite stump and curls up to listen to the visitor's story, her eyes appraising him from head to toe and back again. What sort of Gangrel was he and what sort of story was he going to share with them? She hoped for some good news or a good story-- one with a happy ending.



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With a smile she accepted the explanation. This one was most likely very young and Leslie would not judge her for it. She would have to learn just like Leslie had learned this things. Either through experience shoving it upon you so you could survive or through a mentor taking her under his or her wings. "We all have that short end from time to time." she replied shortly. Siobhan didn't seem like the kind of person who would get strength out of long speeches but merely someone who liked to directly play ball. And that assumption was correct as the conversation with Robyne went further and further.

Her mouth literally dropped open as she watched the interaction. Damn, this girl was more than sugar and spice. The Flemish Gangrel was undecided whether she liked it or not but she was sure she didn't mind the way she spoke to Robyne. Leslie had a certain way of interacting that she needed to uphold and this way Robyne got the opinion she needed from someone else and from her own Clan and Sect. There was a small voice that felt sorry for the redheaded Gangrel but it was necessary. Sometimes you needed to break people's ideals to make them realise something and Robyne was too passionate to try and get through with kindness and gentle words. Siobhan smashed into the pitch and ideals with a hamer made out of frank words and direct speech. Eventually Leslie was even impressed by how Siobhan handled this and she found herself nodding at what the woman was saying. There was a small thing that irked her the wrong way though.

"If I may. Primogen is in theory elected by Clan and not by Sect. My vote means as much as any other. However Siobhan is right. To keep your stand in the council you need more than a loud voice and passion. How will you keep your head up against someone like Mr. Russo? And I heard whispers about that Malkavian that weren't so pleasant either. I know George is rather okay to talk to. But it won't be easy. You will be eaten alive." Leslie sighed and rubbed her forehead. This was a hard shell to crack especially as Robyne became even fiercer than before.

The wildlife issue sat high with the other Gangrel but not with Leslie. "We are Wildlife. We are Wanderers. We are Animals. We are close to our Beast. We are nature. I am rather wildlife than anything else. Is it a stereotype? Maybe it is but it sure as hell is not insulting. We are what we are but doesn't mean we have to act like it. It is a name. A simple name. Be proud of what you are! If you keep going after everything with the same tenacity as you do now you will get multiple targets on your back. I told you this before: back down for your own good. We all have our own worries and needs."

The commotion that Elrick made was a welcome distraction. His expression and his smile together with his rough looks made her smile softly. He was an odd man but there was something entrancing about him as well. Something mysterious that Leslie wanted to find and unravel. But not now. Now she nodded and gave him her stare that traveled along his body and back up. A playful twinkle in her eyes grew. She remained silent and watched the others as she leaned against a tree with her shoulder. His flamboyant charm would turn this tension around... hopefully. Especially as Robyne didn't make any objections about being called "exotic breed".
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Siobhan prided herself on her ability to her behind her smiling masks. She could befriend any from the lecherous to the cantankerous, offering smile and charm regardless of her actual feelings towards the individual. It had been a foundation of her career. That and a plunging neckline had earned her company many a contract that they weren't the optimal choice for. She could work with anyone, almost. There were those certain individuals that bore holes through the armour she hide behind. They were the zealous.

And Robyne was firmly in their number.

Siobhan lacked the perspective to realise that the anger the redhead's words evoked was not actually for her clanmate. They burrowed through her poise, delving beneath her maturity to sting at the girl she had once been, the girl shaken by her mother's anger, the girl desperate to know what she had done wrong, why her mother had never come back. Siobhan's polite smile disappeared as her lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval. Letting Leslie speak first was not only respectful, but bought time for her to gather her thoughts into coherence.

She did look at the Anarch, brows lifting at the information about their voting status. In her sheltered experience, she had not spoken more than a smattering of words with anyone regarding their movement and had assumed they occupied a position like one of the independent clans. As Leslie finished, she flashed a quick smile to the brunette. "I had not realised you had the vote. Told you I was too young to stand. For now at least."

She then turned to Robyne, her smile fading once more though more to concern than any other emotion. "One speech from me and you're denouncing each of the clans and dismissing anything we do as simple preening. I'm stuggling to think of a swifter way to prove yourself illsuited to such a role. You do what you must, Robyne. You are clan and I'll not forsake the tie we have but one thing I must be clear on.

"Dogs do not molest their children. Cats do not abuse the weak for pleasure. Rats don't hunt with high powered rifles, claiming it was 'sport'. There's no racketeering or prostitution in the animal world, no drug dealers roping in the young young just for another quid in their pocket. 'Wildlife' as you so scathingly say fight for food or territory, even mating rights. They do not abuse for the perverted kicks it gets them.

"And you call the worst of humanity animals. You are wrong. So unutterably, inexorably wrong. Animals would never reach the depravity humans or kindred can."
Siobhan shook her head, quietly adding "You are wrong" as Elrick arrived. His arrival was fortuitously timed and Siobhan smiled in welcome, stepping aside so he could join their small gathering and speak to the three of them easily.

"Elrick, you're a shameless flirt."
Her voice warmed with approval. "Robyne has introduced herself, this is Leslie and I'm Siobhan. No pack for me though. What's the story?"
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A glint in his eye came. The reception was warm enough. Leslie kept silent. Siobhan was hot. Robyne was polite. Was it possible to learn enough about someone from the get go? Of course not. Things were all the more telling if you were sure about yourself. Leslie and he had already met. Why throw it in the hat so early? What were these ladies affiliations?

From Robyne wanting a story, and claiming to hold this gathering, it told Elrick a few things. The meeting was just to see what sort of crowd the gangrel had in the area. Since his time getting here was lengthy, he wondered if this really was all the great city of London could muster. Not enough freedom for the wanderers? More importantly. It told him there was nothing serious going on. Good. A nice old story without any sect business was free to be used. One where he could learn something insightful about his companions.

Though a good story?

What are we, kids?

He gave another deep chuckle. For him, that is. A twig like him did not muster up the deepest of voices.

"You ever box with God? Hah! I know right? Impossible... No one has ever seen the bastard. What about somebody who has boxed a God-well as close as we can determine a Godlike figure.

There was this whelp. Tough as nails German bred mass of testosterone. A real brawler. Not taller than six foot even though. He was a steadfast muscle man with patriotism and glory in his heart. The only thing that mattered to him was the blood. His heritage. For the motherland! For Germany! JA-JA-JA! That was this guy. So sure of himself and so proud. We know pride. Pride leads to downfall. Every single time. You get caught up in your own shit long enough you're gonna die from the bacteria.

Whens the first time any of you sexy treats got smacked around for being disrespectful in front of an Elder? Fuck. What about just some bloke a solid month older than you in the dirt? Imagine this-you grew up on a farm most your life, second of two children and the prodigal son dies to a real nasty bug. Takes him weeks to die and the doctors throw their hands in the air like they just don't care. What's left to do but to do double the work while your useless dead brother is buried down the way and your dad resents you for not being the other? Maybe sneak down the road a way and get into trouble at night in town? Drink to much alcohol. Stand up to the guys twice your age and get into brawls with men beefier then you? Demand respect the way they show disrespect. Through grit and force.

First war comes along and half those scamps are gone, leaving you to bed their pretty girlfriends and wives-- maybe this part of the story does not work so well with a female audience. You can't put yourself in the mind of the fucker all to well-my apologies-I get carried away with the bad romances."


Jumping off the rock, Elrick rubs his feral and human hand together, feeling the warmth of the friction and fur build up. Pleasant.

"Still. 17 year old boy in ye olde war times left to his devices because even the war effort needs food. Gonna get in a lot of trouble 'round town and even more back home. Town elders run him out after a bit, calling him a coward for not joining the war effort. Abusing him for being a charlatan and a disgrace in the eyes of their Lord. What sort of filth provokes shamelessness from innocent girls? Ones that wont see their loved ones sent out to the meat grinder of war-you can't have an influence like that around town.

All this name calling and pride wounding made him do what any idiot boy would. He ran away from his dads farm and joined the war. He was gonna show all those cowards that he was a real man. Not some schmuck dodging on a technicality of being born to early to join the fray. Maybe when he gets back, his dad will have a new perspective at least!

By the time he joined, it was to late. Ze Germans were pushed to far back-the society was no longer supportive of the cause and the great putz Kaiser Wilhelm fled to the Netherlands. What's a misguided youth to do? Boast about his great war accomplishments of course! Give it all! Elaborate, exaggerate and extort praise and fame! He saw some combat. Let's not discredit him fully. But did you think he was at Verdun or the Marne? Or even the battle of the Somme? No. He saw barely enough to be called a true warrior."


His hands were moving as he spoke. Accenting words. His eyes were gazing at each woman as he spoke. Giving them a once over. His main attention was towards the story.

"One of my favorite stories always involve heavy questions. Ya know those what if scenarios-put yourself in the main characters skin and launch yourself from their position, taking your own course. Doing it better-or doing it worse-but just not doing it the same way. You know the result most of the time.

Our whelp. Two year old baby gutsy gets a real taste of kindred society. Coddled and protected and nurtured by his new daddy. That only goes so far.

Here you are. In some social wank fest. Not just true blooded gangrel. Some other creeps and spooks too. A boastful little sap whose been smacked enough times upside the head the brain should be mush. This imposing presence talks about the Great War. He's totally invested in it. Purely nostalgic and prideful. Think of it. You're mystified that some elder gives that much of a shit about mortal affairs. You step up and you talk about your moments. Your glories. Your victories. You want this Elder to smile upon you and give you favor. That's what you were told happens. Kiss enough ass and you can become untouchable."


Making a bunch of kissy noises, he smacks his lips before giving them a lick. He gives Siobhan a wink. The rest of his pose does not change. His face softens as he continues.

"What would you do. Huh? In this moment. This figure who can squeeze you to a pulp just by looking at you funny. You know your exploits are shite. He has no fucking clue who you are. You just engaged into the conversation. You're all fucking capre diem now.

You bloody well can't seize the day if the day melts your guts. What do you do?"


He studied the women a final time. Would they understand the direction of the story? Would they care? Would they believe it even? His sight on Robyne to gauge her reaction the most. She was the more unknown at this point. Siobhan appeared fun. Leslie more intriguing.

"Thing is. The whelp did not listen to clearly. Thick headed. The Elder was warmed by German honor. The boys who fought and died by their country. We know bullshit politics. You can support the troops but fuck the cause. The whelp spoke kindly of the Kaiser. He got thrown to the ground. A stern warning. A slap on the God damn wrist.

Would he let it go? His personal space was invaded. His thoughts and feelings about a 'GREAT MAN' were put into question. The figure before him is old enough to absently consider his whole world Prussia-he's been around that long. What does the whelp consider? His options. His fate.

He gets up. Dirt on his ass and a heavy scowl on his face. He pokes the Elder square in the chest. Tells the fucker he's not a real German. He's a fake. A Triple Entente supporter. No real man of action would piss on the honor of the Kaiser!"


Elrick lifts his hands and sticks them out in front of his face. The fingers slowly curl, turning into fists.

"His rage is unbearable. A brujah would blush and lick dirt before he'd consider annoying an Elder, let alone push one; that's what those pussies like you to think-anyways-the whelp is intent on saving face. A life of being a failure to his dad because he did not die over the other brother. Unwanted by the towns folk because his ruckus he'd make. A delinquent told to learn to become a man before he takes a stand. Well he is gonna be a man on this day."

His fingers clench tight, shaking intensely as the muscles shake. His fingers open up. He claps them together tight and lets the claws dig into the back of his other hand. The fingers lock together as the sharp points bury into the skin. Thick holes parting the skin as he tears at his own flesh. He brings his hands over his shoulder and swings them down like a golf club.

"PLOP!!! The Elder grabs his fucking skull and lifts him up into the air and throws the whelp into the ground. His might strong enough to break the bone in his skull and crush an eye. As he drops the fool onto the ground with a heavy throw, his ribs snap and puncture his dead organs. The proverbial wind is knocked out of him. No one approaches as he flops on the ground like a fish outta water-just this big ol mess of fuck writhing around in pain with his skull dented in from the pressure--and on top of it all he is getting those broken ribs kicked in while the Elder is using every foul word ever conceived in the history of German."

Elrick kicks the dirt, the grass splits as the soil is upturned and flies in the air several times. Some unintentionally directed towards the women.

"Bam! Bam! BAM! No one stops this. Not a single fucking soul. Not even the whelps sire. In fact the insult was received so poorly the sire had to owe a boon to the Elder. The whelp took an age to feel right after that. It was no simple heal and feel good kinda deal."

Elrick had stopped kicking the dirt after his sound effects. As his last sentence finished, he let himself fall down on his ass. Sitting in the dirt, legs crossed in front of him, hands on his knees. The puncture wounds on display in his hand.

"So! Who wants to tell me how they woulda reacted to that whole thing? Take over from any point. Fuck it. When's the first time you got smacked or force to submit because of your retardation? Me? Personally?"

Elrick gave another chuckle. He loved gatherings. He hoped the stories were gonna be juicy!

"I'd go back and kill the Elder prick. Luckily, I am not that God damn stupid to piss one off."
Speech - German - Thoughts - Beast Thoughts
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Robyne
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-- Hound --
* * * * * *
Well the story was immediately engrossing. Robyne cradled her chin in her hand and made herself quite comfy on her favorite stump, knees tucked in and she was quite warm and settled in. The fuss from earlier seemed immediately forgotten. Maybe it was this guy's engaging voice... maybe it was the descriptive quality of his narrative... either way, her mind was in the story and she was enjoying it. This guy was quite the storyteller. You would want to pay to listen to this guy chat.

A war story unlike any she ever heard or read or watched on TV. A sort of Gangrel war story. A story about Germany in World War I... wow, neat, Robyne thought and a childish smile stretched across her face. The sort of smile a kid would wear proudly while daydreaming. Like Calvin from the classic Calvin and Hobbes comic strip... Calvin dreaming of his days as Spaceman Spiff... but for Robyne, she was trying to place herself in the story somewhere... as a witness or observer... maybe a participant.

An upstart fledgling or neonate, standing tall before an Elder. How many times has she done that herself? Perhaps a few too many times to count. But each encounter hurts more and more each time especially when she knew she was right and the Elder was dead set wrong or just not getting it.

Robyne nodded and blinked when the story became an invitation.

"If I had a dime for every time I was right and knew damn well that an Elder was wrong and a fucking moron, I'd be a millionaire. If I had a penny for every time I stood toe-to-toe with an Elder and tried to state my case though... I'd only have maybe a nickel to my name. Right or wrong, even an idiot Elder is someone you don't want to mess with. I had to learn that lesson the hard way. Courage is one thing but it does you no good if you don't have enough smarts to back it up. And when it comes to Elders, the smart thing to do sometimes is to let them be fucking morons and give them a wide, wide berth. Pick your battles wisely... live to fight another night. You know what's right from wrong... so that's what matters. If the rest of the world wants to pound sand and be idiots... whatever, I guess."

Robyne had at least a few stories to tell of hard lessons learned... any one of them might be entertaining, but she was hardly as gifted a storyteller as this guy.

"I've met some pretty hardcore Elders... none I would want to mess with these nights... I've been lucky... but I know on any given night, my luck could run out."
Edited by Robyne, Thursday, 22. September 2016, 20:58.
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