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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: |
| A Meeting of Minds; Sullivan, George | |
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| Topic Started: Friday, 18. November 2011, 00:38 (422 Views) | |
| Sullivan | Friday, 18. November 2011, 00:38 Post #1 |
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Ancilla
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The tripper never did change. As Sullivan pushed the doors open, there was still that oddly welcoming smell of beer, vomit and really old wood that was long overdue refurbishment and maintenance work. It was sort of like coming home, way back when he'd been mortal. 'Uncle' David had turned out to be a drinker, though much to his chagrin Sullivan had never really been able to use that as leverage - by that time, he'd started drinking too. He stood and held the door for Harris, as seemed to him to be the polite thing to do. Harris was going to the trouble of speaking to him on his turf - for a Cape, that was generous. After watching his companion enter, Sullivan saluted the barman with a casual swish of the hand about his head, "Two Red Specials, the usual booth." He said nonchalantly, dropping down into a cushioned seat that fit him so well it seemed as if it was molded for him. Puling his arms out of his coat-sleeves, the Irishman let the coat crumple into the back of the seat, the sleeves draped outward, and gestured for the opposite chair, "Help yerself. Lord knows this place seems dead as it gets tonight." He smiled a little, his lips twisting upward at one side, and shoved his hands in his pockets, getting himself as comfortable as possible - if he was gonna talk on his turf, he wasn't gonna be the one sitting awkwardly. "So where were we? Problematic politics, watchin' the neighbours or eavesdroppin' just incase ya learn somethin' useful?" Smiling gully, the Irishman shook his head, "I'm sorry if I come across as being frivolous, by the way. I've been told I tend to give folks the wrong impression." |
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| George Henry Harris | Monday, 21. November 2011, 22:26 Post #2 |
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Methuselah
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After entering the bar and reaching the table, George sat down with his hands visible on the table and looked sternly at Sullivan. "I think we were discussing these things a bit simultaneously... And I might have given you a wrong impression as well, but I don't tend to trust most Irish very much..." Not since the Irish Riff-raff Army messed with me by killing Ernie, Sarah, George jr. and mauled Vicky... |
| Languages: English, Welsh | |
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| Sullivan | Wednesday, 23. November 2011, 12:48 Post #3 |
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Ancilla
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Sullivan shrugged, entirely unoffended - most Irish he'd met didn't do much to change the stereotype, much as he personally wasn't a fan of it. "Fair to say. We've not done a lot to alleviate our reputation." The conversation was suddenly much more serious than it had been outside. He supposed that in placing himself against a wall, he had wanted to give Harris the impression that he didn't intend to run off with the ladder after cleaning the windows, but now he wasn't truly sure where their conversation could go. He gently itched his stubbled-covered cheek and put forth another prong to the conversation, attempting to breathe some life back into it, "Surprised to see the bartender back so soon. Couple o' nights back some Brujah with his fancy-ass flame-round guns shouted 'im outta the building. Unecessary if ye ask me - this place is an elysium by local law if not Prince-enforced. Conversation that was had may interest ye though." Nodding gratefully as the two drinks were placed firmly on the table and the barkeep returned to his post, Sullivan raised a glass slightly off the table and smiled, "Cheers - to worthwhile company." Drinking slowly, the Irishman enjoyed his sustenance as opposed to merely devouring it. The condition wasn't all that pretty in most cases - when there was something to enjoy about it, Sullivan figured he'd best take the opportunity while it was still there. Placing the glass down, he continued with his contribution to the conversation, "Where was I? Oh aye. Aye, there was a group of us - not seein' much of 'em now, but them's the breaks - discussin' what we could do about only havin' so much Anarch turf." Sullivan scoffed as he took another sip of his drink, then continued, gesturig towards himself as he began again, "Not somethin' I usually go in for, but there wasn't another conversation ta join, so I stepped in. Same Brujah from before - Alvin? May've been. Blue hair an' radical ta boot regardless. He does this diagram on tha table - over in that corner, it might be - 'bout how we should take tha fight ta the Camarilla." The Irishman man laughed, and shrugged, "As if ye just go and 'do' somethin' that huge, y'know? Bless 'im. Anyways, I point out that the Cam an' those who side with it can be reasoned with - and here we are, provin' my point. I say 'It's the psychos in the east we need ta worry about'." Sullivan sighed, folding his arms and leaning back into his seat, "Either way, the talk sorta trailed off from there - the Brujah kid demandin' ta know everbody's clan an' all that stuff, fer all the good it'd do 'im. But more important was the point I made - I don't know about other Anarchs, but I'd work with the Capes ta see the Sword kicked outta the Smoke. I don't talk about 'the free state' with other 'narchs much cuz I'm cynical as to how we'd ever maintain it - even if we had the numbers that the Camarilla does. All I am is one kindred wantin' ta live my unlife without a big monster like the Sword breathin' down my neck." Sullivan cracked his neck to one side, rubbing the noisy side with a wince, "But either way, I've talked yer ear off enough." Edited by Sullivan, Wednesday, 23. November 2011, 12:56.
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| George Henry Harris | Saturday, 26. November 2011, 14:00 Post #4 |
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Methuselah
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After listening silently to Sullivans talk, George took a gulp out of his glass. "Interesting... You are an anarch with common sense, there aren't many of that kind...I think, we could have a concensus there: As long as there is this Sabbat scum, we don't need to battle each other. If I were an Anarch, I would be wanting you as a Baron, even though you are Irish..." After another gulp George tapped his chin while thinking. "A rude guy with blue hair, waving his weapons around in public and doesn't give a fuck about the scum in the east ? I guess, that man needs a lesson on priorities and problems, don't you think ? The maniacs are more of a problem, than we are,because you can talk at least with some of us without the propaganda bullshit..." |
| Languages: English, Welsh | |
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| Sullivan | Friday, 9. December 2011, 13:18 Post #5 |
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Ancilla
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Smiling, the Irshman nodded, satisfied that they had found common ground at least in this. There was nothing special about agreeing you both hated your enemies, but it was worth noting when you both hated your enemies enough to be able to tolerate - and even enjoy on some level - one another's company. Sullivan was quickly finding that prejudices aside, Harris was a decent man, and one that he would happily raise his claws in defense of. Of course, that could only lead to more trouble - but Sullivan had yet to find a path worth walking that didn't have stones to trip you up with. Bringing his drink to his lips and taking a sip, the Irishman gestured in a somewhat non-comittal manner with his free hand, "I dunno about teachin' him a lesson - after all, that phrase has different conotations depending on the speaker, and different severities at that. Alvin'd make a fine footsoldier, but a thinker he ain't. He had phosphorous rounds - allegedly, anyway - in his pistols. If either of our groups is to move on the Sabbat, we could do with finding out where and how he got 'em. I'm not much for guns, but there are plenty of kindred who are, and they could do with the extra bang fer their buck if the easterlings come knockin'." |
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| George Henry Harris | Saturday, 10. December 2011, 00:17 Post #6 |
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Methuselah
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"Exactly that is, what I'm talking about. We will need these rounds badly, as we need every able person from both our groups, to drive the Sabbat out of London and keep them out. With the lesson, I meant that somebody should tell him that we aren't your worst enemy, but that would be the Sabbat. The problem will be the coordination. We both know, that I am not a powerful guy, who can order others around. I would ask you, as I can't order and won't beg, to assemble the Anarchs, explain the situation and then see, how many are willing to side with us against the Sabbat scum." After this long speech, George emptied his glass and set it on the table, waiting, what his opponent had to say about these words. |
| Languages: English, Welsh | |
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| Sullivan | Saturday, 17. December 2011, 22:46 Post #7 |
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Ancilla
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Sullivan downed the remainder of his drink and sat in thought, his hand drifting to cup his chin without thinking about it. Harris asked a lot of the disparate group calling themselves anarchs - but no more than they ought to already be doing. The thing that would always put the two groups at odds was the issue of acceptance and following the rules, and how much of either was allowed. Anarchs weren't exactly a group as much as they were kindred who just wanted to go their own way. The Camarilla offered shelter, and limited protection, in exchange for total obedience to your supposed betters. It was a gilded cage, but a cage all the same - there weren't many who would jump on board without at least some reservations. "It'll be difficult." He eventually said, folding his arms and nodding in thanks as the bar tender collected their glasses, "Getting those of us who've lived, learned, and thought ahead a little bit... Well, there're only three or four that I know of, and I'm only in regular contact with one - mad as a sideways tree though she might be, she'd sign up." With a fleeting image of Nora passing by his mind, Sullivan half-smiled. Continuing to avoid focusing in on one kindred - particularly that one - for too long while talking with a man largely a stranger to him, Sullivan spoke again, "The others I haven't even heard tell of - never mind seen their faces - since they were here tryin' to cool off Alvin. If they're smart, they've gone somewhere else - which leaves us with only one real option. I'd hafta call a Gather o' Clan Gangrel, an' then organize a Rant ta get tha Brujah in the city takin' notice. Advertize it as the right kind o' rebellion, an' they'd be on board - to begin with. From there it'd be careful morale management right up until the end - or we'll lose 'em before they've even done anythin'." It struck Sullivan then that while they were discussing organizing the Anarchs and effectively creating a truce between the two factions in the city worth considering people - of any kind - what they were really discussing went beyond that. What they were talking about starting, what they would be setting into motion... It was open war. Not just quick stabs at Camden or raids into the city centre... This was real action. 'Burn down Hackney' real action at that. "A horde o' Brujah an' Gangrel with flaming rounds, though... We'd need targets from the start or it'll get ugly fast just due to a little infantry impatience. That and before this kicks off, that Lancaster case needs dealin' with if possible. The coppers are desparate fer a man to pin tha blame on - better it not be one of ours." |
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| George Henry Harris | Thursday, 12. January 2012, 18:12 Post #8 |
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Methuselah
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With a short nod George commented Sullivans speech. "It'll be very difficult. The problem is, that you don't have a baron to make the gathering of the anarchs easier. But if you know one which is certain to join, that is good. Every anarch willing to help is welcome.The question about the Rant would be, if you call just the anarch Brujah or all of them. In the last case, I could say a few things to my clanmates concerning our fight against the scum. If just the anarchs are called, I might do as well, if it is ensured that people like Blake don't try to kill me, just because I'm no anarch... I think, we could manage the morale thing. They don't have to join my club, after all. In fact, perhaps you made the better deal, who knows ? They aren't supposed to like us, all we are doing is a temporary truce to get the true scum out and after that, at least from my point of view, they can go and hate us again... We might get some targets for our men and if we are lucky even for the police. I just might have to speak with the Nossies. But back to your friend. Does she have as much common sense as you have ? If we unite Brujah and Gangrel from our sects, we will need every ounce of it. Badly, because if we are the only ones of the whole horde with it, I doubt we could be successful..." |
| Languages: English, Welsh | |
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| Sullivan | Sunday, 15. January 2012, 23:20 Post #9 |
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Ancilla
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Sullivan fought down the urge to laugh - it was unfair. Nora had common sense of some description, he knew that. It was more a case of trying to picture her willingly making use of it. That particular image wasn't coming to him - but he imagined if he asked her nicely, she might hold back her own feelings on the subject for his sake. "She can be talked round. This idea isn't too different from some of her own." He commented. Sullivan dismissed the possibility of Alvin doing any real damage with less arrogance and more assessment via field experience, "Alvin won't be a problem. He's capable, but he's not cut his teeth on anything yet. He's got the temper ta open fire if ye rile him up, but not the guts ta do it without provocation. Too green and angry at everythin' vaguely sensible - I get the impression only half of that is Brujah blood." Itching the back of his head, the Irishman continued, "All in all, there may well be anarchs who'd take issue with you or any cape aligned with the common cause - but they aren't really the anarchs ye want anyway. Too much misdirected hatred. If I could find out where Shaw is, I gotta hunch he'd know how to bring 'em round. He had that sort of feel about him - someone who has the patience fer playin' with perceptions and opinions. However, I also gotta hunch that Shaw ain't his name - and so the difficulty." Sullivan looked past Harris into the middle distance, sorting through thought and scheme as he tried to figure a way around Shaw's relative anonymity since that night. He had no reputation in any of Sullivan's usual contacts - but that could equally be a good indication. "Tell ye what - if your Prince can figure out who Shaw is, or where that name's been circulatin', "I might have somebody besides meself who can organize this rabble. In the meantime, you let me know if you get word of anythin' worth takin' advantage of in Brent - I tend not to go there otherwise - an' I'll see about keeping the anarchs on course with basic battle theory. Lesson one - one enemy, one cause. Agreed?" Sullivan outstretched his cold, pale hand and waited. This was Harris' call, throwing his lot in with anarchs. Even temporarily, for a cape that was ballsy - and tactical genius. A whole horde of lawless, angry and violent-tempered kindred on his doorstep? Harris could do worse than the anarchs for a counter-stroke. |
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| George Henry Harris | Sunday, 15. January 2012, 23:51 Post #10 |
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Methuselah
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"That is good. One more who will support us whole-heartedly. If you say that this Blake is no problem, I'll take your word on it, as we shouldn't put the distrust between our sects above the great goal for now... This Shaw does sound like a good man to lead our army into the field, I think. If you could find him, I would like to talk to him and to this Nora to make sure they have exactly the same approach we do. I don't say I don't trust you, but as Mr. Wilson always said:'The briefing of your comrades should be done at least twice, so they know their duty'. Besides i would like to get to know the people I will be fighting with... I don't know, if I can the the new prince involved. I haven't been able to present myself to him and he doesn't seem to be available for the lower ranks at the moment. But if you could give me a description of this Shaw, I could speak with a Nos to see what they can find out about him, if that is fine with you..." As Sullivan mentioned telling him about anything worth taking advantage of in Brent, George looked slightly uncomfortable. "What exactly did you think of ? You know that if that deal gets reaches the wrong ears, I'll be charged for treason ? But I can drop you little hints, I guess. And I might organize a Rant myself to get some of us fighting on your side. I can't promise anything, but I'll try. So we will try and gather as many as we can..." George took Sullivan's hand and shook it. "Agreed. We have a deal." |
| Languages: English, Welsh | |
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3:54 PM Jul 11