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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. Create Your Account! If you're already a member, please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| Exploring Haringey; Surprisingly, the setting is Haringey | |
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| Topic Started: Monday, 4. July 2016, 16:37 (191 Views) | |
| Tricia Balogh | Monday, 4. July 2016, 16:37 Post #1 |
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Fledgling
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The following nights, Tricia placed considerable emphasis on exploring the territory from whence she would feed from. She soon realized that the wards of Haringey located on the West side were substantially more refined than their Eastern counterparts. She considered that it was a fun polarisation, and it also informed her that the best hunting place would be in the East, where crime and grime could obfuscate any suspicion to her person. South Tottenham seemed ideal, although it came with the disadvantage of having to pay close attention for CCTV security. The other option was the mall Wood Green, located just a few minutes West of her residence. It bore the same CCTV issue, yet it was close (which may have been a disadvantage if she were ever careless) and decently frequented. Thus, she traveled between the mall, Seven Sisters, and South Tottenham, in a neat little triangle that spun for six or so kilometres. Each time she would attempt to take a slightly different route, to familiarize herself with the streets just a little more. Her world was still incredibly limited, but at least this was a start. When at home and in front of the many pamphlets she pocketed, the Brujah tried to memorise the bus routes and tube lines, as well as their stations. 22:14 | Vue Cinemas, a Monday night. Close to the mall, Vue Cinemas was hard to miss. Prowling these yet-unfamiliar streets was certainly thrilling in its own way, but she needed to feed sooner rather than later. She purchased a ticket for a movie that was already running, Independence Day: Resurgence, and quietly slipped into the room. At this hour, with this movie, only the most frustrated humans would be in attendance. These humans were likely to be alone. Such was her reasoning for entering, and it seemed to bear fruit for her. She slowly approached a single man who was resting on an upper row, and sat next to him. He seemed to eye her curiously, although he was too polite to take a good look at her, or even remark on the oddity of choosing to sit right next to a person when so many free seats were available. He was an older man, and seemed slightly uncomfortable, but did not voice his grievance. It always bothered her that humans could be so perceptive, yet still so defenseless. For five minutes she waited, looking not at the movie but rather around the auditorium. When she was satisfied that no human was near or looking at them, she embraced the man beside her swiftly, as a lover would, and pecked at his neck. He wished to yelp in surprise, but her hand was already against his mouth, and soon his entire body shivered in bliss. There were a decent amount of private taxi companies in the N22 area, or at least Tricia assumed that there were, because there were a lot of different telephone numbers to choose from. If she could somehow reach a prospective owner of such an organization, she envisioned that--perhaps--something could be done to make this foreign territory more leisurely for herself. In time, she considered pursuing that course of action, but not before she could decidedly ascertain how the Kindred in this city moved. As for the humans themselves, she harboured definitive, but inconsequential, opinions. The population in places such as South Tottenham were evidently different from the demographics of St John, and that caused a certain cultural shock within her. In truth, she strived not to ponder too much on that. It was certainly a different habitat, and she would have to adapt with as few frenzies as possible. In the end, kine were simply kine. They all tasted differently, and she was legitimately glad that there was such an abundance of kine in her area. Humans could enjoy an exotic palette of Turkish, English and Polish cuisine, and she could enjoy a similarly exotic selection. |
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| Tricia Balogh | Monday, 4. July 2016, 23:37 Post #2 |
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Fledgling
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22:30 | N15 6JU, The Crowe Bar The Crowe Bar seemed to have Irish undertones among its frequenters, which Tricia found beneficial since her Newfoundland accent was bizarrely similar to that of an Irish accent. The patrons were simple, and their voices carried over nicely to the lone girl that sought to mingle with the nightlife. A nearby flier advertised "Charlie and the bhoys", a band that advocated "Irish rebel music", with a subtext that read "give Ireland back to the Irish". A flimsy concept since, as far as Tricia was concerned, the British government had lost Northern Ireland the moment it surrendered to the IRA in 1998, and it certainly surrendered. The other discussion was, of course, the referendum, and this she highly enjoyed listening in on. Farage had retired, the Tories decided to take three months to elect a new leader (when in 2003, they only needed nine days), and the Labour party, with the media as cavalry, attempted to cannibalize their own Corbyn for not sticking to Blairist principles. The kine were having a constitutional crisis, and for the Brujah it was all immensely fun to watch from the sidelines. Would Britain be allowed to exit the EU? Of course not. Already the BBC, the pro-EU faction, and many others were attempting to de-legitimize the anti-EU majority, and perhaps for good reason. The Leave campaign was composed of tatters, with no solid party to represent them. The situation reminded her of when the people of Ireland were supposed to vote against the EU constitution. Even so, these events that concerned kine did not concern her in equal measure. Her priority tonight was currency, and the Crowe Bar stayed open until two ante meridiem on weekends. She inquired with the bartender of whether late evening, part time waitress hours were available for work, at which point he prompted her to apply through the proper channels. And so, she did. She noted down the manager’s phone number, went to the nearest payphone, and spent the evening attempting to negotiate her flexible hours. It was a dangerous gambit, and it did not yield any result that night. The manager took her contact information, and promised to call her if there's a time to try it out. She assured him that he would definitely hire her once they met in person. |
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| Tricia Balogh | Tuesday, 5. July 2016, 16:36 Post #3 |
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Fledgling
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Around Midnight | Alexandra Palace, South Terrace The first nights of settling into a new domain were crucial; for how could one hide herself from humans, and protect herself from Kindred, if she was ignorant of her surroundings? One couldn't. Even so, there were nights when her gut intuition tasked her to put the anxieties on hold, and to contemplate her standing in the world of the living. Tonight was one such night, and as she stood in front of Alexandra Palace--looking not at it's closed entrance, but at the panorama it offered--she ruminated on what humanity offered. The gentle summer breeze fanned through the lime trees, creating a constant of dry whispers far in the distance from where she stood. Soon--as early as this month, most likely--the kine would gather where she now stood to celebrate their summer festival. There was no pang of jealousy evoked from that fact. No emotion of longing. She didn't feel required to socialize. Rather, her only regret was that she could not observe human behaviour during the day, when vigor and innocence were at their prime. Some Kindred would claim that kine were just kine; food. This was incorrect in her opinion. They were sustenance, as well as entertainment. She reasoned that there was no motive to exist if one could not be humoured. Lampposts, each with three globular bulbs, casted light and shadow on the extensive terrace, yet the only movement she could perceive was her own. Tricia rested her arms against the balustrade, allowing it to support some of her meager weight. The People's Palace. She liked the concept of it, though it still seemed somewhat useless outside of council organised events. Her foremost question was of how efficiently it could function as a feeding ground. The park held a good deal of events, late night concerts sounded especially promising, if only she could find corners of privacy. The future unfolded in her eyes in fragmented scenarios, and she blinked to clear her thoughts of these theoretical meanderings. As she was walking back through the park, toward her home, Tricia felt somewhat better after having come here. For her, as a Brujah, solitude meant that there was less of a chance for someone to set off her beast. She was alone due to this knowledge, but not lonely. If she was to remain here, however, then she would need a method to secure some form of influence within the area, for her own protection. There were many options available to her, but the more pressing concern was the danger level of getting involved. She would have to be careful, a Kindred couldn't afford to be careless. |
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| Tricia Balogh | Wednesday, 6. July 2016, 20:40 Post #4 |
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Fledgling
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Late Evening | N17 6QN, Tottenham Chances Club Getting to know the streets of Haringey was, by itself, not enough. She needed to know the spirit of the people and their culture if she wanted to integrate among the humans. High Road was very beneficial in that sense, since it hosted a grand number of human hotspots. One of them, the one she decided to attend tonight, was TChances, a community-based centre for live shows and earnest artistic fun. The way she saw things, each community had a number of hearts where people gathered to showcase their unity, and this was one of those hearts. If she could decipher meaning out of it, then perhaps she could in some way benefit from whatever knowledge she acquired. The inside was not exactly spilling with kine, but it housed a much higher density of them than she'd ever seen in St John's clubs. A Polish punk band was playing live on a small, dark stage, with people gleefully holding their arms out, clapping to the beat, and bouncing in a manner that the Brujah found mesmerizing. There were a wide assortment of humans there, from the older to the youthfully adult, sporting jeans and loose t-shirts with a wide range of illustrations. She spotted Guevera and Marley on some of them. There was a sense of careless freedom to them, and it was difficult for a Brujah not to find that appetizing and invigorating. She stood out from the crowd for being alone, and somewhat more beautiful than average, yet still she slowly found herself exhilarated by the spirit of the people. It took an hour to finally get Tricia relaxed enough to dance, but she did dance, especially when a man began to take interest in her. He introduced himself as John, and had offered the lone woman a drink. While she did refuse his offer of alcoholic beverage, she did not dismiss the opportunity to converse with a seemingly healthy male specimen that seemed to kindly offer his company to little lonely old her. His friends, who were nearby, seemed to glance their way knowingly. If they were upset that their friend had temporarily abandoned them, it did not show on their bemused faces. The kine were having fun, and their infectious thrill seemed to drown out the party. "You have a cute accent," The man declared casually, in his own British accent. His voice was comfortable. "French?" "Close enough." She offered, grinning at the thought of her accent being cute. "Who cares, right? Lots of different dialects here." "Absolutely!" You could see his smile in his eyes. "My guitar teacher is Estonian, barely speaks English but he's brilliant. I met him here, he's a big fan of this place, must be gallivanting about somewhere." As the night went on, the two occasionally strayed from each other, only to inevitably reunite and speak of something or other. She seemed to appreciate some company that night, and he did not seem averse to offering his. If he noticed that she wasn't drinking, he didn't seem to care. Eventually, when they discussed how she would depart from the club, he offered to drive her home once Tricia mentioned that she didn't have her own car. "So, wait. What exactly does that mean? Horses for courses? Meal course?" "No, no. It just means everyone has their own thing, right? Everyone enjoys something different." "Huh… Horses like courses?" "Or... Courses like horses. I don't really know where it came from." John laughed. She directed him to drop her off at Albany Close, nowhere near her actual home. She'd noticed the place as she was scouting out Haringey in her earlier nights, and knew it to be unfrequented. They reached the place in only a few minutes with the help of her instructions, and as the car came to a stop there was a certain awkwardness in the tension between them. She stalled from exiting, and instead reached out for him. He was staggered by her action, but didn't make any effort to resist, and soon enough her fangs pierced into his neck. His mind offered a moment of confusion, before it was paralyzed by bliss. When she was done, she left the dazed man to nap, jumped a small hedgewall, and continued down Anstey Walk toward her home. |
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1:14 AM Jul 11