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The Kindred Chronicle
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THE MONSTER OF EALING
Last night, several people reported the sighting of a "screaming red monster" in a quiet neighbourhood of Ealing. After a power shortage in the area, a building caught fire. It was then when, what was described as a "man shaped, footless creature" emerged from the flames, leaping, running, and screaming. One woman has told our reporters that the man had "teeth like a wolf, and the face of the devil". Police officers are still trying to get to the bottom of this; neither the power shortage nor the fire have still been explained. A spokesperson from Scotland Yard has stated that the "so called monster" might be a wounded person, escaping the fire.

TRAGEDY IN TOOLEY STREET
The police has found the bodies of three TFL workers in the construction site at Tooley Street. One of their colleagues raised the alarms last week, when the three workers didn't attend their shifts. The bodies of the men have been found in a deep hole, uncovered by the refurbishment works that are taking place in the area. According to the Police, the bodies were horribly mutilated, which has led to the wildest speculations. The names of the three workers are being kept anonymous, following the wishes of their families.

HOROSCOPE
MARCH 8 - PISCES
You are used to making sacrifices, to prioritising the happiness of others before yours. Even though that is a noble attitude, there are times in life where the only healthy alternative is to embrace your own selfishness and allow yourself some enjoyment. Reserve one hour per day to do something you really like. Treat yourself! Your colour for this month is blue.
Echoes from the past ring back into London. Their intensity increases until they are deafening. What once was a faded memory of a glorious time, now becomes a shocking reality. The consequences of actions taken decades ago ripple into the present, altering the lives of everybody in the City. Unguided and blind, Kindred wander around, trying to make profit out of the reigning chaos.


The appearance of four mysterious figures turned the city upside down. Mistrust and jealousy became the official currency of London. Serpents and fiends rise to power, misdirecting the blaming eyes of the Camarilla towards imaginary enemies. Only those with clear vision and the ability to trust each other strive, while the rest run towards a shallow grave.



Across The Board
Current Chronicle: Dragons and Lions; Pride and Fire
Current Season: Spring
Controlling Sect: Camarilla



Index
Getting Started
General Information
Central London
North London
East London
West London
South London
Miscellaneous
Out of Character


Population: 31

Camarilla
Anarchs
Other
Ventrue: 1
Toreador: 5 (6)
Brujah: 2 (3)
Malkavian: 7
Tremere: 2
Nosferatu: 3
Gangrel: 1
Ventrue: 1
Toreador: 0
Brujah: 2 (3)
Malkavian: 0
Nosferatu: 1
Gangrel: 1
Setites: 5
Sabbat: ???


THE CAMARILLA

Prince

Nobody

Sheriff
Meredith Furlong
Hounds
Robyne Sheridan
Rosella Marie Allain


Keeper of Elysium
Davvad Bisset

Grand Harpy
Catherine Wilke

Primogen
Ventrue: Marcus Antonio Russo
Brujah: Thomas Krusen
Gangrel: Alexa Mallik
Malkavian: Ellora Reese
Tremere: Hannah Sundling
Toreador: Arsenio Pozzi
Nosferatu: Dogan Khojak



ANARCHS

Baron

Khoza

Baronets
Enfield: Leslie
Haringey & Barnet: Clarice Harris
Harrow: Jelena Korolenko

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You find yourself in London on a dreary, foggy night like any other. But what lurks in the shadows is the stuff of fantasies and nightmares, far from mortal reality.

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The Uprising; Astrid in Grove Ward
Topic Started: Friday, 13. January 2017, 16:36 (163 Views)
Astrid
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1st Rate Brujah Terror Childe
* * * *
Uprising -- Muse

It was time to organize, mobilize, and assert some authority here. It was time Grove Ward was purged of its useless elements. It was time to take the power back from the deadbeats and complacent. It was time to clean this place up. It was time to build up the ward into something worthy of real Brujah.

Primogen Harris was practically asleep at the wheel it seemed. Sure, they met. But he was a tea and crumpet old man. He was breaking down. He was worn out and beat. He needed to go somewhere and re-group or grow some balls or something. In the meantime, let the soldiers rise up, step up, and put things in order. Harris was an aging general. Maybe he was past his prime. Maybe he needed to be put to pasture to retire.

Astrid had some clear ideas of what she wanted to see and what she wanted to do. Get these gangs organized, clean and purge this place of shit and find the activists, the rebels, and separate the strong from the weak. There was a lot of weak here. Looking at all the decay and rot, it was obvious that there was a lot of work to do. It was also obvious that Mr. Harris wasn't being very proactive, it seemed. Complacency was putting nails into the Brujah coffin. Grove Ward was going down the toilet. Changes were necessary.

In an odd sort of way, Astrid considered borrowing from the Osiris playbook. Some terror tactics may be necessary to scare off the gangs who would get in her way and waste her time and resources. If they weren't with her, they would be against her. If they were against her, they'd have to be burned like piles of dead leaves. She needed an army of like-minded soldiers who could think, plan, and see the long-term vision she would have for Grove Ward. This neighborhood, if it was going to belong to the Brujah, needed to be worthy of the Brujah. It needed to be a fortified citadel where their sovereignty would never be threatened or questioned. If it's theirs, then it was theirs, period.

Grove Ward needed to be a place of paradise. There needed to be protected feeding grounds, tight security, thriving nightlife, and only the best in culture, music, art, style, luxury, and pleasures. Grove Ward needed to be the Carthage of the millennium.

Best way to get things rolling was to find the gangs, mark the territory, gather up the allies, and start sending messages to whoever stood in the way. This was Brujah turf... this was New Carthage. Don't like it? You have two options. Get out or get roasted.

Cruising through Grove Ward, the more Astrid hated what she saw, the more motivated she became to rip this neighborhood apart and build it from scratch. Getting this turf to where she envisioned it would be a massive undertaking. She could see that right away. Lots of mortal gangs wanted their turf, their drug empires, their little niches. Lots of mortal gangs were unaware of the Brujah-- obviously. They weren't going to give anything up willingly unless they could gain a lot more than what they were going to lose. But Astrid wasn't interested in taking in most of the gangs. Most of the gangs were worthless. They were self-serving or consumed with just petty shit. They were all clout and bluster but no substance-- no balls. Petty shit. They were easily satisfied with dog kibble. She didn't want pets. She wanted an army of mother fucking wolves. She wanted an army of vicious club owners and people who knew style, cunning, how to turn a profit, how to get things done the right way.

She wanted an army worthy to serve Brujah and no others.

The gangs she wanted were those that were above petty drug pushing or drug smuggling. She wanted gangs who had more ambition but would bow to the obvious superiority of the Brujah. Gangs who recognized where the real power was and where the real authority was too. Cleaning up Grove Ward, giving it a respectable shine was key. Turning Grove Ward into THE place to be was the goal. Turning it into the nightclub mecca of London was the goal. Grove Ward needed to be the first and last destination.

Money, nightclubs, women, power, and endless feeding orgies and pleasures... a true haven for the Brujah. A haven protected by only the most sincerest of badasses London can provide.

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Astrid
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Mr. Harris probably cornered and monopolized the extortion racket here, she figured. He probably had secured a nice niche for himself running the protection thing here. He probably had his meat hooks in most businesses and clubs here at one point. Did he maintain those connections and scams and rackets though? Some investigating was necessary. He was certainly possessive and defensive when Grove Ward came up in conversation but that wasn't any kind of answer to go by. Grove Ward could be slipping right through his fingers.

Astrid wasn't about to protect sinking sand in a busted sandbox. If Grove Ward was to be saved and maintained, there needed to be secured borders and something worth keeping and protecting. She was struggling to find value in this area. If there wasn't any to be found, then she would have to consider if it would be worth the time, resources, and trouble to make something of value here.

If the Brujah were given this plot of shit, then it would be up to the Brujah to somehow polish the turds and turn them into something useful and profitable. But Astrid has her doubts and always will. There was an old Norge saying... you can't polish turd.

You can bury it though. Or you might find someone stupid enough to convince that the turds are actually treasures. But no one was that dumb. At least no one should be that dumb.

It's the territory that was attractive-- not what was actually inside it. A hunk of the Prince's domain under Brujah sovereignty... you couldn't ask for a better foothold under a Ventrue Prince. It would never happen under a Ventrue. Even if Grove Ward was a total wasteland... they occupied space they could control and challenge from.

Astrid has no intention of keeping a wasteland. She has no intention of mounting a conquest expedition from an urban desert. She has to spruce this ward up and get this area revitalized. Grove Ward needs to be made useful again. It needs a renaissance. And she has an idea on how she might get started with the rebuilding and renovation.

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Weeks Later...

[avatar=https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-774iVCKg26M/V1movbtMIII/AAAAAAAABfM/1RJn9uiD8qwKgtyrRBJe7U17UR1Mg8BdgCLcB/s1600/AvAstrid.jpg]

For a while, Grove Ward actually became pretty much an afterthought or really just a shadowy vague sort of memory that occupied some small space in Astrid's mind. All the ambition and sort of excitement she had for Grove Ward was actually not really all that much to begin with, honestly. She had some ideas about re-vitalizing it and putting some new life into the neighborhoods and making Grove Ward her pet project and stomping ground but...

Well there was greener pastures elsewhere... and gigs to play... and an album to try and produce and promote... and a fan base to develop and appease... and of course there was all the usual nonsense that came with just being Brujah in London.

Pulled away from her own interests, Astrid had to contend with the aftermath of the failed Masquerade Ball and the ascension of Mr. Krusen as her Primogen. Gathering up more Brujah was on the agenda more so than trying to resurrect some shit hole like Grove Ward. Krusen was supposed to be in a position now to make things happen and get the Brujah back on the map. How well he will do depends on how much help he gets. Right now, it seemed like she was the only one-- the only soldier.

Sucks too because she was getting restless... and bored... and frustrated... and feeling like her creative juices were running dry too. Maybe London wasn't really her city? Sure the feeding grounds were ample and the club scene had some potential... but there wasn't much action to be had here unless she mixed with the Malkavians some more. But she wanted to do more than just trash pre-schools and cause random chaos for school kids looking for a holiday.

But taking care of the band was sort of getting top billing as far as her priorities were concerned. How could she rally the Brujah and stick it to The Man and assert herself if basically she was the only one doing any real work... and if she ever hoped to make it big in Europe with her musical experimentation?

Cruising through Grove Ward on her motorcycle was supposed to be something like therapeutic but even with the wind blowing in her shockingly bright red-pink-magenta hair and her pudgy little pixie face, she simply wasn't finding herself in the right mood or right frame of mind. Making sure the Brujah got some respect was going to be a tough act. Doing something with Grove Ward would take so much time, money and effort... and there was no way she could do anything really to make a difference alone. She would need some serious backing.

The bills were piling up and Twilight Chimes was just sort of clinging on...

Astrid needed some direction... and she needed a cause to rally to... or she needed to start a rally.

If Krusen was her Primogen... she needed to know for sure that he was going to get things done. She needed to know if other Brujah would swarm and gather around him or leave him in the dust to rot. She had her doubts... but she had some hopes too... it was complicated. Astrid liked things simple. She was a simple sort of girl.

Sex, drugs, and rock and roll... and politics that led to power and popularity.

Astrid accelerated and felt her Beast growl angrily in her guts. She needed to vent and feed. But where to go?
Edited by Astrid, Monday, 19. June 2017, 23:47.
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Grove Ward... licking her chops on a recent feed... the blood was still hot in her chest... but the flavor was awful... the drink was like licking motor oil and dumpster juice from a wet sock. It was out of necessity though. She had been running cold for most of the night and her Beast was clawing her insides for attention. Her prey was a hefty, well-built man-- some kind of skinhead or neo-Nazi type. No love was lost feeding on him. It was in self-defense, really. If she didn't need the blood, she would have just killed him straight-up and straight away. Her Hunger got in the way of course and always made these encounters way more complicated than they needed to be.

She had to draw him in and take a few hard hits. She had to let him in before she could wrap him up and take from his veins. He got a few good licks in and left her pretty bruised and beaten. He had a lot of experience pounding on women, she could tell. Of course he was no match for the Kiss and her fangs humbled him in the end. She took in about all she could tolerate of his filthy blood before she pulled herself off his hulking body and left him out cold in the alley just around the corner from the parking lot behind the spirits shoppe and package store like a passed out drunk.

His friends will find him eventually-- or he will find his friends if and when he wakes up. If her face resonates in his memory, there may be problems in the future. She'll cross that bridge when and if she gets there. She licked his wounds clean enough... now she was on her bike, fleeing the scene and concentrating on licking her own wounds.

Bastard hit her pretty hard across the jaw and elbowed her face pretty good. She'll need another feed to soak the wounds and mend her broken jaw and busted nose. Damn waste of blood.

Took more effort than needed to feed and now the blood she drank was blood needed to mask her wounds and not look like a mashed potato.

If she had a club of her own here in Grove Ward, she could have her pick of feeds and all the security she needed-- but money didn't grow on trees and she had debts to pay and these were just pipe dreams. Revving up the throttle, Astrid made a quick turn and headed eastward. She needed to find a decent feed soon... maybe head to Soho... where she knew what she could get into.

[avatar=https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-774iVCKg26M/V1movbtMIII/AAAAAAAABfM/1RJn9uiD8qwKgtyrRBJe7U17UR1Mg8BdgCLcB/s1600/AvAstrid.jpg]
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