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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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Can't get me out of your head; Benjamin training Presence - Summon pt.2
Topic Started: Tuesday, 4. April 2017, 20:10 (237 Views)
Benjamin van der Stoep
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Scaly entrepreneur with license to corrupt

He had followed his plan down to the letter and continuously gotten himself involved with the people he had chosen for his experimental approach to the greater secrecies of the discipline. He had made sure to repeatedly make himself a part of his building cultists’ lives by inviting himself to their student meetings, he took the initiative to call for parties and he met them privately during the sanctuary of the night to discuss philosophy, dreams, hopes and ambitions. Actions that of course had several advantages outside of his attempts to unlock deeper mysteries of the power that flowed through his sacred and divine blood, by becoming a more important and influential part of his cultists’ life from a psychological perspective, to have them depend on him, the easier it would eventually become to increase his gains from a financial perspective as well as a greater quantitative (their intellectual mindset already ensured the qualitative ) source of precious vitae.

However, his previous certainty about the ingenious nature of his approach started to wane as the results that he experienced did not really deliver him towards the edge of fundamental insight that he had hoped. He undoubtedly become more important to his flock of sheep as the determined shepherd that would guide them with conviction and clarity through the darkness of the night, which most certainly was the result that he had hoped for. Which technically speaking meant that he was right, something that was hardly surprising considering that he was the divine prophet walking upon the path of cognitive insight and might.

… in this case, the power of insight continued to repeatedly and mockingly elude him no matter how he consistently came closer and closer to the truth and revelation that continued to burn his immortal ka in mocking spiritual pain of ethereal humiliation.

He hated it… he hated it all.


However, as true as the lesson had been from the start with the razor-sharp claw like nails of his master etching in the message repeatedly on the bleeding canvas of his back to allow it to properly sink in…it was tonight as the shortcomings of his up until now time and resource invested commitment to the cause of the achievement of the sweet nectar of higher understanding.

Through his agony and through his humiliation he continued to gain insight and power.

Power to use to drive him forward.

Through the absolution of apathy and phrenic degradation he gained the maddening sweet tidbits of nectar that he longed for from the process of rising in the face of utter darkness and attain the illusive ascension that he deserved. The pain and the humiliation that he currently felt were nothing short of his own fault for the shortcomings that his own chains of spiritual restrictions still made themselves known as he made the same error of actions as when he first tried to peer into the knowledge of Thoth.

He had through immanent means tried to reach the secrets of the gloriousness of the transcendent awareness.

He had been a fool… and fools in the end deserved nothing but scorn, humiliation and degradation so that they from the pain would learn to not repeat their shortcomings but through the gauntlet of hardship move ever forward towards excellence unless you wanted to fall into the deepest pits of ruin and eternal insignificance.

The teachings and the results that his initial experiments had given him had been solid ones proven correct and righteous of a glorious nature that could only be countered by the brilliant conclusions and lessons he took from it. However, it was in this hour and moment of excellence that he blinded by his own light not yet properly purged from his ascendant being that ensured his downfall into depravity and failure.

The way to ensure the connection to linger and stay within the mind, soul, awareness and creation of those his lesser and peers was not to be achieved through immanent means but keep on balancing on the razor-sharp edge of Du’at by embracing the numinous path that was his and adopt the ethereal and spiritual powers and tools at his disposal to cover, overwhelm and change the pawns by his own glorious darkness.

Through the baptizing of Darkness, they would be made his to beckon and to call at his leisure and his pleasure.

Just as the eternal night wills it to be.
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Benjamin van der Stoep
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Scaly entrepreneur with license to corrupt

The idea and the painful reminder of the way limitations upon his consciousness and awareness of the world around him by the chains of the Aeons drove him forward. His humiliations in the face of defeat and failure had revealed to him the issues with his thoughts and his assumed understanding of the powers wielded by the glorious nature of his very being, but in the issues and the damnation you could in the abyss of utter darkness also find the one true source of ultimate salvation.

It had brought him this far, to a late-night party in Camden borough, in Club Shaka Zulu, one of London’s more successful establishments in the night club franchise and a place that the Afrikaner had started to view as something akin to a home... a place filling him with disgust by how the predominately white middle class surrounded themselves in the lowly despicable mannerism of the Kaffers. However, it also filled him with inspiration as he breathed in the atmosphere of home as he saw how easy it was to subvert and control the minds of the willing decadent slaves of the wretched enthralled slave masters in the Aeons’ decree. Reminding him of his place as their master as he would baptize and liberate them all in the storm of the righteous chaos and divine darkness which would ultimately reshape them or ruin them depending on if they would rise to the challenge or buckle under the demands of their own character and mental facilities.

In short … it was a special kind of home.

He was here tonight with his original members and future high priests of his cult as well as his trusted agent and champion during the reign of Ra, miss Anne Robinson. They were here, celebrating their most recent productive meetings, their discussions and the liberation of their minds and souls from the demands from the spiritual dead consumer society. They drank their drinks while he smoked his cigarillos, savoring the opportunity to drink from at the very least one of them before the night reached an end.

During their interaction and their light-hearted socializing, his disciples proved that they had taken his lessons and tutelage under consideration as they mixed their pleasure with intent and plans for what to gain and what to accomplish as he observed them eyeing their targets for desired carnal desire. It filled him with pride but took away nothing from his own plans and designs for the evening.

He used his time graced to him in the club wisely by using [Presence: Awe] as well as [Presence: Dread Gaze] on his ill suspecting target, his agent and champion. The use of the powers that enforced the reality of his own divine nature upon his surrounding continued to send a shiver of pleasure and delight through his very being, tickling and teasing his cognitive awareness urging and pushing him onwards to reveal more and push the borders for what he could expose to his oblivious target.

It was a fight between the Ka and the Khaitib and as befitting for the prophet that he was it was a fight where the Ka was announced the victor once again.

He had indulged in his pleasure and his desire and continued to walk the path of the razor thin balance of Typhon yet that was not the full scope and full idea of the approach and design. No that would come afterwards, that would come later. As they had indulged in their pleasure and urge for desirable interaction and slaking their thirsts his disciples as the mere mortals they were decided to call it a night and head back to their respective homes, something that he had planned for and he relished in as he enjoyed in comfortable ride back home in the backseat of one of his transport agent’s car.

When he entered the safety and security of his haven in Wimbledon village he checked the time on his watch, pleased to see that sufficient amount of time remained to see and enjoy the result of his experiment he began his work. As he poured himself a glass of Typhon’s brew he focused on the existence of his agent, the shade of her hair, the sweetness of her natural scent, the spark of her eyes and glistering of her lips from which the curious innocent ridden syllables of her words escaped. He focused upon her very being and creation, her embodiment and her essence, but not only that but the undeniable connection she had to him through the impregnation of her cognitive and emotional landscape from the use of his divine powers.

He was her Prophet, her leader and shadow in which she would grow.

And in turn she was his.


She was his agent, his asset, his property and source of pleasure as he could observe her changed and altered in the swirls of darkness that spread from the core of her essence from the corners of her life and her very self that she before tangling with his glorious nature had done her best to purge, to ignore and to hide. The darkness and the shadow that now had made her stronger, better, smarter and capable as she wandered the path of a future übermensch.

As it sealed her fate and made her his.

In in a silent plead and whisper he sent his message, his call and urge for her to come to her master’s side.

To his side.

… Anne Robinson


[Presence: Summon – Anne Robinson]

Less than 90 minutes later, that he had spent enjoying the content of his typhonic brew and the pleasure of the sensation of the realization that his divinity lingered in the mental awareness of his subjects he could hear a soft knock on his door accompanied by the sweet and innocent unmistakable voice of his female subject.

“Ehm … Professor?”
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Benjamin van der Stoep
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Scaly entrepreneur with license to corrupt

His understanding of the discipline and the power in specific was by now more or less complete…

It was the thought that resonated through his mind as he leaned back in the comfortable armchair of his office in the university of his control and influence. His given office might be limited and insulting to the statue of his being and his power but… in the end it was of little to no regard for the moment… his mission and his crusade as it currently stood hinged on his ability to play the role and position of someone smaller than the glorious prophet that he was. The maddening sweet nectar and smirk of final victory would in the end dance upon his lips as he through the medium of the overlooked and ignored would be able and influence and shape the destiny and nature of an untold number of individuals that in turn were or would find themselves in positions to alter the discourse of society at large.

Let the vainglorious kings of nothing keep their fiat-money of control as they forget about the power of land they held in the times of old. Let the artists and viziers of beauty and the soul wither and sing their whimpering lament of regret, silenced by the putrid fluids of the corpse of their ancient greatness and heights of mastering sight of the treasures of imminent present.

The power and victory as the last chain breaks under the deafening sound of utter silence as the eternal night under the reign of the righteous chaos is upon them all would be his and his alone. His victory would be won through the power to stir the hearts and affect the emotional perceptive and impulses of his subjects and his enemies alike. He had already conquered the barrier and shroud of mental restriction and limitation as the power had proved successful in summoning his subject Anne Robinson to him. He had faced his humiliation, he had braved his failures, learned from his shortcomings and conquered another chain that held him back by proving himself worthy through freeing his mind from another presupposed perception of the chained and restrictive reality the Aeons wanted them to believe.

For someone else that might have been enough, for the pawns upon the board of the eternal game between the accursed and deceptive light and the liberating and righteous dark … this would perhaps have been the end of the path towards enlightenment.

However, that would not be the case for him, that would not be the case for the Prophet.

He was glorious and through his words, and his words alone the masses would awake and they would heed his call.

The sheer thought that he would be limited and restricted to only be capable to use this power in specific on individuals who had already tasted the Prophet’s might through the use of other powers and usage of almighty Thoth’s divine gifts was simply incomprehensible. He needed to achieve more and through the position as the eye of the storm in the sacred night so he should.

And tonight…this evening, the dice of fate had been cast in his favor as the whole evening late into the border of night itself was graced to a special event and seminar. Students and professors alike from the center of advanced migration studies from Copenhagen’s university had arrived for exchange of ideas and of research to improve upon and sharpen the agenda setting tools in the service of the cultural Marxism that had polluted the mental landscape of the once highborn and glorious European continent of spiritual and mental superiority… the land of natural rulers turned into menial slaves and servants through the shackling chains of their own perceived shame and guilt.

It was ruinous and destructive powers and a testimony of the powers of the Aeons and the wretched legacy from the wake-up slave morality by the inherited infernal spirituality from the cross. The dogmatic drivel that had forced an entire world to its knees and path of self-limitation. A power thought to be mastered and ruled by those that prided themselves slave masters in mortal society and the vigilant eyes of the rotten and putrid carcass of the Ivory Tower itself. Hardly did they know that the tools and infernal methods of their choice had already been usurped by the temple to through damnation once more baptize the world into darkness anew.

The players and pieces on the board were set, the plans and designs by the players in motion as the temple would continue and manipulate events into a disadvantageous premature confrontation among everyone involved.

It would be glorious.


With this conviction, with this certainty and inner power of his Ka howling his tempestuous bliss and spiritual ascension he had taken the stage to present his own research and plans for lectures and course to meet the goals and ambitions by the global elite in faithful servitude of the wretched Aeons.

…. They would all be deceived when the righteous storm they had unknowingly aided them all to build would explode and release in the final moment when the game would be won and darkness would ascend to rule supreme.

Careful to not use his powers of Thoth, no matter how tempting and urging it was as his beast raged, howled, pleaded, whimpered and roared demanding him to yield as he stood fast and steady on the course that he had selected.

It was with a presence and charisma of his natural self-demanding of attention and focus that he took the stage and carried out his speech for the gathered masses, his eyes hungrily and scouring searching the masses of the listening elite until they landed upon a blonde young Danish man, an assistant professor from Copenhagen’s University.

Yes… he had listened to his presentation of critical discourse analysis regarding the power of Media and his presentation of the migrant crisis. He was brilliant and from judging the untold message between the lines of his speech, more than willing to embrace the truth in the gospel of righteous chaos.

Yes… he, Dr, Laust Mathiasen would do just fine.


He was careful to make sure to keep getting back to meet the eyes and preserve the connection with the individual during the course of the speech and the rest of the seminar before he had returned to the sanctuary of his office.

Once here … he had mentally gone through the events of the evenings, the power and importance of his performance and his unyielding presence of darkness in a world of accursed and corruptive light of lies and deceit. He focused on the power, the latent and dormant power he had conveyed and the way that he as a being of true and unyielding reality in a world of obscured deceit stood fast and eternal in memorial in the cognitive perception of the inferior masses in the world.

He would not be denied…

He would not be forgotten… as his power and presence from the usage of Thoth’s holy powers remained lingering in the consciousness of his subjects…so would the emotional imprint of his presence linger in the masses not yet blessed to know of his power.


[Presence: Summon – Dr. Laust Mathiasen]

Mere minutes, maybe up to as much as fifteen had passed before there was a knock on his office door… a sound that brought a vicious smirk of final victory in the face of a spiritual feast to come appearing on his darkened facial features before he smoothly and pleasant spoke up.

“Please, come in.”

…. Yes, please Dr. Mathiasen do come in. We have so much to discuss as you as a lingering testimony of my victory and mastery of the understanding behind the message of the power graced to me will echo throughout the nights to come. Please come in, we have so much to discuss as you will leave tonight, ready and willing to spread a token of my message back to your university as the words of liberating darkness are spread and the agenda of the light usurped and used for the temples final victory to come.

Heed the Prophet’s will you darkened pawn.

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Benjamin van der Stoep
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Scaly entrepreneur with license to corrupt

It was with a self-satisfactory smirk that he enjoyed his smoke as he walked down the streets of London drinking in and indulging in the sensation of his influences and the power contained in the confide of his glorious being. Wherever he looked and whatever he gazed upon he saw his influences of the present time or the future of near or far away come into his view. He was really on the verge and edge of the creation of a kingdom of radiant darkness here and now in this filthy and grotesque European metropolis at the heart of western degeneracy in the etching shackles of white guilt and multicultural propaganda on the lies and delusion of equality… the wretched and decadent results of slave morality’s curse in action.

The great old smoke indeed … the smoke of the ruin of an ancient civilization and nobility of a highborn nature and legacy now in shambles, festering in the puss of its own cognitive filth in the cesspool of a future bloodbath to come.

However, … in the smoke the darkness gathered power to bind the elements of the righteous chaos together as a core readying itself for the divine storm to come that will topple the old regime… from the rivers of blood painting the streets and alleys red the nutrition for a world and civilization reborn in glorious darkness will arise.

And when that happens he would be there, oh yes, he would see to that.

He would be there, riding upon darkness’ wings as he elevated on the pedestal of divinity would rule and direct, using the ruinous powers that the inferior curs of the faceless masses had so freely used to enslave themselves in spirit and in mind. Those worthy and those capable would embrace the shadowy essence of their inner self to rise into the well deserving position as übermensch and subordinate’s lords and ladies in the new world to come… those of feeble and weak minded character will forever remain slaves to their own demons, at the very least they would be directed by masters worthier of their position.

As his eyes followed the group of a few loudly chittering nubile women, students and heirs to the throne of commanding discourse of society at large moving past him, on their way towards one of London’s numerous nightclubs he barely contained his vicious primal predatory chuckle as he blew up a tempestuous cloud of smoke in celebration to the stars and moon above.

By the maw of Du’at he knew…he had gazed into the eye of the storm and tasted upon the nectar of enlightenment as he knew the source of the power that was his that would from the night of revelation to the dusk of the eternal night to come would be the keystone of his kingdom to be.

He had been a fool, yes, he had, and now as he rejoiced over the truth accomplished by the determined path upon which he wandered he still felt the sting of humiliation from the fact that he had not understood the foundation of the truth until now.

In his erroneous behavior, he had thought himself needing to rely on the conscious effort and prayer of cognitive and numinous concentration to wield the power of Thoth and effect the people of his surroundings. But in his attempts of a thorough, consistent and insistent mental memorial of the truth by now long forgotten by the face of the light cursed modern society of the decadent and degenerated mortals whom in turn had infected the members of the night with the same kind of spiritual rot he had forgotten one crucial thing.

…He was already glorious!

By focusing on the necessity to call on the powers to direct and focus the nature of his own spiritual and mental superiority on the inferior and lesser wretched ones he had subconsciously and effectively limited and restrained himself from soaring to the heights in harmony with the winds of the storm where he believed.

He had neglected and ignored the reality of his own creation and the dormant tug and strings of command that instantly burrowed and nestled themselves into the empathic perception of his surroundings … the way that made him as an illuminating star in the pitch darkness of the night rise above the rest of the deceptive lessened creation around him… with a radiation engulfing him marking and making him realer than reality itself.

To focus his power was at times unnecessary when he upon the stage of the path of the Prophet upon which he wondered he had already in his natural state elevated him above the plebian masses. Through the tendrils of sacred tenebrosity he will etch himself into the mental databank of the individuals blessed enough to make his acquaintance. Through that he would ensure himself a faith spared from forgotten obscurity as he would always linger in the perceptive and remembered reality of his peers and subjects.

And it was through that ascended platform from where he stood looking down on the masses beneath him that he would call upon the powers and understanding necessary to wield the power to summon his surroundings to follow and appease his every beck and call.

As the Prophet of the eternal and undying storm of the righteous chaos to be.


Yes…as he flicked the remains of his burned down cigarillo down an empty trash bin on his path, a singled self-satisfied thought resonated loud and clear throughout his mental awareness and cognitive consciousness.

“…It was upon this power that his kingdom would rise by the smoke from the ruins of the ancient awareness and stygian nobility would rise into eternal and everlasting memorial and focus in the mind of his peers and subjects.”


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