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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: |
| The Beast Within | |
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| Topic Started: Monday, 11. February 2013, 03:00 (982 Views) | |
| GoldMonk | Monday, 11. February 2013, 03:00 Post #1 |
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Neonate
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The Night Tripper. Kaz had gotten good reviews from the locals. Apparently a nice place to relax. And after the few nights he had in Kaz, he could use some relaxing. He couldn't tell what exactly it was, but the night air had a chill that surpassed mere temperature. Something felt... Strange. He kept telling himself it was nothing. He kept telling himself it was just the different culture but he knew that wasn't exactly true. He had toured all across Europe, and no place had this kind of... Sickness in the air. He thought back to his travels with a concentrated frown. He guessed that wasn't exactly true. He felt this way before in the large cities. Barcelona, Paris, Rome, Berlin, even the relatively quite Berne had this feeling, but none of them were this bad. And it wasn't just the feel in the air either, he thought. Lately he found himself just blanking out, staring at nothing and being absent of thought for several minutes. He felt his temple and thought of the disease that grew just underneath his skull. "Maybe that's it," he said to no one. "Maybe the battery is just losing its charge." "Sorry?" Kaz turned to the small brunette girl sitting next to him in the Tube. He smiled at her and renewed his grip on the railing overhead. "Don't mind me, little miss," he said amicably. "Just talking to myself." The small girl giggled. "You're funny," she said. "Looks aren't everything," he said again, drawing out another giggle. As Kaz ascended the stairs out of the London Underground, he found his mind wandering back home yet again. No subway systems in Miami, but he did ride the Metrorail frequently. Of course being underground was a completely different experience. Just like being on the second floor in a bus. He flipped out his day planner and rechecked the directions he had received. The Night Tripper wasn't far from here. He set his legs on autopilot and started walking. His legs always found him in the right place. His mind was free to wander again; for better or worse. His head was starting to act up again, so he dug out a few more painkillers from his pocket and popped a few more pills. His self-medication may not have been the most healthy thing in the world, and he may have not been able to feel much of anything anymore, but it was preferable to the migraines his tumor often cursed him with. Unfortunately, he kept having to up his dosage. Kaz considered getting a hold of some morphine or something else a bit more hardcore. Apparently, he was making pretty good time, as he looked up and saw the illuminated sign of The Night Tripper. He smiled and headed to the door, his befuddled mind not recognizing he was walking right across the street. The flash of headlights and a frantically pressed horn brought him right back out of his stupor, and he turned just in time to see a Land Rover speed right towards him. Adrenaline rushed through him, his eyes dilated, and he felt every one of his muscles individually tense up. Time seemed to slow down as he desperately hurled himself to his left, spinning out of the way of the Land Rover as he did, the side mirror slapping against his arm as he did so. The next thing he knew, Kaz was lying on his back, half of his body on the skirt of the road, the other half on the sidewalk beneath The Night Tripper, but the chemicals coursing through his veins would not let him lie prone for long, and he was back on his feet before he recognized it, pushing his way through curious and concerned pedestrians alike and through the front doors of The Night Tripper. There was music, but he couldn't make out the lyrics. There were faces, but they all seemed obscured and alien to him. He sat at a stool at the bar but didn't order anything, simply staring at the grain in the wood, trying to force himself calm down. "Just breathe," he said. "You're safe, just breathe, just breathe, just keep calm and breathe--" "Hey," Kaz bolted upright, his wide eyes attempting to focus on the voice, but the face just seemed all wrong; blurred and distorted, shadows forming hideous and unusual shapes on its skin. It tried to say something to him, but the meaning was lost. The murmur was distant and echoed. The voice could have been concerned, curious, or confrontational. Whatever it was, it was lost to Kaz, who only heard malice in those indistinct words. Beads of sweat appeared on Kaz' forehead, the hairs on his neck and arm stood up on end, his breaths came in shallow, rapid bursts, and his shaky hands were clenched so tight that his knuckles creaked and his nails dug small bloody grooves into the palms of his hands. He stared directly into the ambiguous face of the figure across the bar, unintentionally baring his teeth like a threatened animal, his molars grinding against each other. All rational thought was gone. He was going to die. He stumbled back away from the bar, crashing out of the stool and falling on his back on the hard, cold floor. He crawled backwards for a few moments before righting himself and scrambling to his feet, bolting for the door, bowling over patrons in his way. He was almost safe, away from this nightmare, when another shadowy figure stepped before him, holding out clawed hands towards him. With a feral and desperate cry, more suitable for an animal than a human, Kaz lashed out, striking the monster's face with powerful blows and sending it falling to the ground. Another hand reached out to grab him, he turned and wrapped his hands around the creature trying to kill him, roaring and pushing him into the nearest wall, smashing the back of its head against the wall while squeezing his hands tighter and tighter. Before he could end this monster, he felt himself lifted from behind, binding each of his arms and he was sent flying through the air, into a table, smashing the glasses atop it and snapping it in half. Never minding the pain, he rolled instantly to his feet to find him backed up to a corner. He grabbed a chair, hefting it and getting ready to swing at the nearest assailant, his wild eyes large and rolling in his sockets, struggling to take in everything while his mind tried to process the horrors of the hideous shapes surrounding him. Edited by GoldMonk, Monday, 11. February 2013, 05:57.
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| Nora Penvellyn | Wednesday, 13. February 2013, 06:46 Post #2 |
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Rebel With a Cause
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It'd been an uneventful evening so far; the same old, same old as some would call it. Nora sat at her usual table towards the back of the bar, sipping from her usual bottle of beer as her eyes flitted across the inhabitants of her 'throne' with little interest. Normally, she'd consider this relaxing, but for whatever reason, she was restless and itching for some kind of excitement to present itself. Perhaps that was because she couldn't stand her own company, in any of it's slutty, coke-fiending forms. So there she sat, her leather clad feet kicked up on the table waiting for something to save her from the impending boredom that was setting in. As if an answer to her prayers, an interesting man stumbled into the bar and quickly seated himself, staring intently at the worn word beneath his elbows. The expectant and rather perplexed look the barkeep gave the silent man was rather amusing. She giggled under her breath, curious about this oblivious newcomer that had wandered across her threshold, and the tangy, metallic smell of blood that followed him in. Was it his blood she was smelling? Or was that coming from the basement? She turned and looked to the door not three feet away that lead down to Vasili's 'box' of sorts. It wouldn't have surprised her if someone was getting ripped to pieces down there... but this blood smelled...different. Somebody was on something. She knew drugs when she smelled them. Apparently others knew them, too. She watched as Marcus, a baby Brujah with an insatiable thirst, neared the brooding fellow at the bar. She'd never seen one simple word like 'Hey' elicit such a brash reaction. "Marcus," she said with a warning tone, planting her feet on the ground and taking the last swig of her beer before setting it aside. Marcus regarded her quickly with a scowl, backing off for only a matter of seconds before the man he'd disturbed went tumbling to the floor and made for the door. One of Marcus' goons stepped in his path, and that's when things got interesting. Nora watched with a quirked brow as the blondie was succumbing to what she could only discern to be a sudden surge of rage. "Marcus! Enough!"she couldn't stand being ignored, and he was doing just that as she hissed at him. Meanwhile, the blondie had laid out one goon in front of the door, and started waylaying on the next. This mysterious and angry mortal moved like a frightened, rabies-infested animal, and Marcus showed no signs of stopping as he hurled the kid across the bar into a heap of broken wood and glass. Normally, she'd find this entertaining, but there was something off about this kid that Marcus had picked a fight with, and Marcus himself was just being outright disrespectful. She pushed her seat back and was on her feet in a moment's notice, waiting for the neonate to pounce once more. She knew what he was up to; he'd done it a thousand times before. He'd pick a fight, take it out back, almost suck the poor sod dry, and leave him in the alleyway thinking he'd gotten his ass kicked. Whatever this kid was on was serious shit. He was either high out of his mind or fucking crazy, maybe both. She smelled fear, more of that sharp, chemical-laden blood, and Marcus' anger was beginning to boil over the side of the pot. None of his meals were ever this tricky. With a rather guttural roar, Marcus charged at his chair-wielding opponent. He didn't make it three feet, though. In a matter of seconds, Nora stomped across the bar, grabbing the young vampire by his shirt and shoving him against the wall, "I. Said. Enough." She snarled with bared fangs that only he could see, her eyes glowing a murderous red, "You're in my fucking house. You play by my fucking rules, understood?!" She hissed. Marcus snapped, trying to fight against her strength that kept him pinned against the brick wall behind him, "Fuck your rules and FUCK YOU!" He spat in her face. Her fist met his jaw before she had time to really rationalize the anger he'd lit inside of her. She closed her eyes, quickly collecting herself before turning to be faced with the idle stares from all around the bar as she dragged the defiant neonate over to the basement door, flinging it open and shoving him down the stairs, "Vasili will teach you a lesson in minding your fucking manners." She hissed, slamming the door shut and leaning against it to survey the current situation. There was still the irate mortal to deal with. The barkeep gave her a cautious look as she neared him, returning to his work behind the bar as if nothing had happened. His was the only face she'd seen behind that bar in all the time she'd spent here. She knew next to nothing about the weathered man, but he'd surely seen enough shit hit the fan here to have hardened him inside. She approached carefully, getting a quick hold on the chair he was brandishing and yanking it from his hands before he could strike her with it. She set it down, holding her hands up in a yielding manner, "Get a grip on yourself and take it down a notch or four. My name's Nora," She took a step closer, her voice much more gentle and endearing then it had been with Marcus, "I don't want to hurt you, I want to help you. Who are you? Do you know where you are?" For whatever reason she felt sympathy for this man. He was plagued with something very similar to her addicted Beast. She understood feeling helpless and out of control. Perhaps his beasts could actually be tamed... |
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| GoldMonk | Wednesday, 13. February 2013, 07:52 Post #3 |
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Neonate
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With his fear heightened senses, Kaz heard and saw everything. He heard this woman shouting, calling for peace, he saw her even take steps against the people trying to hurt him. Seeing and comprehending, however, did not always go hand in hand. In his warped, terrified reality, he was still in mortal danger. This woman was still out for his life. Shaking violently with both fear and rage, gripping the chair in his arms so hard that both the wood and the bones in his hands creaked dangerously from the exertion. He didn't blink. He hadn't blink since he had set foot in this bar, but if he had he would have missed the lightning-fast reflexes of the woman before him as she gripped the chair in his hands. He fought her for it, he fought for it with all he had, trying with all his might to yank it back from her hands, but her iron grip was too much for him, and he could barely make it budge. With another fierce tug, she ripped it from his hands, as the force he was pulling with was transferred into him, and he was left toppling back into the wall behind him, hissing like an animal. He looked to the woman again as he regained his posture, his eyes filled with rage, but it was only now that he could see the entire bar. A room filled with dozens of hideously twisted shapes. And Kaz knew in his shattered mind that each and every one of them was going to kill him. Was going to show him such horror and pain that he could never have before experienced. And suddenly he knew, there was nothing he could have done about it. He was going to die, and his body believed it. With this realization, his enraged expression turned to one of abject terror and despair, and tears of fear rolled unbidden from his eyes. He covered his eyes with his hands, inadvertently smearing the blood from his palms on his face. "No," he said. Weakly. Pathetically. He stumbled back against the wall behind him. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no..." His voice started to sound strained and his body wobbled as if under a tremendous weight. He braced himself against the wall, leaving his bloody hand print against it. The hand print became smeared as he toppled to the ground, his legs unable to support his own weight any further. "No, no, no, no, no~" His voice trailed off into a small, whimpering moan. His tears kept flowing, snot running from his nose ungracefully. He fell to his hands and knees, head slumped, hands digging into the floor. Suddenly, every muscle in his body tensed painfully, and he retched. He expelled the contents of his stomach into the floor, stomach acid containing half-digested capsules of the pain pills Kaz had so eagerly abused. He retched again, and on the third, there was nothing more left to expel. He collapsed next to his puddle of vomit; back to the mob, shaking violently, his hands clasped to either side of his head, cradling himself. It wasn't pretty. But it passed. His skull burned like molten fire, but Kaz' breathing slowed, his shaking subsided, and he was once again himself. He lied there for another minute still, feeling eyes burrowing into his back, the shame of what happened making his face burn red, the pain and fatigue of his violent and terrifying episode coming to him. His first words, when they finally came, were shaky and filled with remorse. "Did I... Did I... Hurt... Anyone?" |
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| Stomalkov | Wednesday, 13. February 2013, 20:35 Post #4 |
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The first Vasili knew of his new visitor was when Crazy Daisy, with whom he was currently playing card, burst out into a fit of manic giggling. Fucking Malkavians, he hated playing them and not just because for some reason they usually won the whole pot but because of their fucking annoying habits; his response was to smash the empty vodka bottle that sat on the table next to him and point it as a crude knife at the messed up bitch. Crazy Daisy just giggled harder and leaned back on her chair so far she actually fell over backwards; from the floor she simply continued to giggle madly, like a fucking hyena, what was it with these goombas that Zoya had keep him company...well Jonny wasn't so bad, Barty was a Toreador who fancied himself a metal head but was too much of a poser to pull it off properly and Crazy Daisy...gah! Crazy Daisy was as insane as she was hot; according to Jonny she'd been a model before the embrace but manic giggling at inopportune moments had ruined her career - word had it she'd made some enemies in the Camarilla though which was the only reason Vasili tolerated her at all. Her presence was a potential lure for violence which was always a plus in his book; but not only that there was something about pissing off the big boys that Vasili could relate with and respect. He chucked the remains of the bottle to the floor where it shattered on the old worn red brick, he laid out his hand, three jacks, a 2 of Spades and a 2 of Diamonds. Not brilliant, but not bad; especially since the fact that Daisy's hand was scattered about her on the floor meant she was out of this hand. Jonny swore under his breath and laid down his cards, the worst hand in history with no matching cards or sets. Barty clenched his fists and laid down his cards, he had a pair of 9s but that was about it. Vasili had the hand, but he wasn't in any mood to play the next, he watched as Jonny reverently pushed the pot over to Vasili's empty space before rounding on Daisy, yanking the hippy trash bitch off the floor with one arm and pushing her out the door. True to form Daisy's little fit of giggles was indicative of fresh meat being thrown into the 'Box'; on the cold flags before him lay a groaning figure that Vasili identified as Marcus, some punk whose hand he'd broken on Zoya's instructions the other week. He didn't mind doing these things but when an instruction was limited to simply breaking an appendage it always pissed him off. He wanted violence and blood, hell he wanted killing but he knew full well that Zoya would be royally fucking pissed if he just ended this punk right here. He slammed his fist at the industrial style emergency switch which caused the folding stairs that lead up to the door above to retract; preventing Marcus' escape. This just pushed Crazy Daisy over the edge into even wilder fits of manic giggling, sounding ever more like a hyena; she was now literally rolling around the place kicking about. Vasili ignored her and lumbered over to Marcus and crouched down in front of his prone figure. "Privet comrade." Vasili didn't raise his voice he simply eyed his new toy up and down, his muscle tense and quivering with expected violence; Marcus rolled over and looked up at the shadowy figure who crouched over him. The look of anger and defiance melted instantly, Vasili hadn't been in town long but already word was getting out that the Baron had a new enforcer, one who didn't take prisoners or believe in mercy. As he stood Jonny appeared in the passageway behind Vasili and leaned against the wall as if waiting for a grand spectacle, "Didn't you learn your lesson?" "No man...I mean yeah, shit can't we work something out; I'll...I'll apologise. Marcus was whimpering from his place on the floor, his voice only just managing to raise loud enough to be heard over the incessant giggling of Daisy. As the hapless neonate gazed up fearfully he saw Jonny toss something to Vasili, then there was light as Jonny hit the switch. Before he could blink Marcus felt an incredible pain in his right hand, looking over with a whimper he saw that Vasili had driven a screwdriver into it so hard it had literally nailed him to the floor, "Arrgh! Fffffu-" The young Brujah didn't get a chance to finish, interrupted by Vasili's hand, which reach into his mouth and gripping both tongue and jaw wrenched both free from his head with extraordinary strength tossing the rapidly disintegrating flesh aside; Marcus was lucky he was kindred, the damage would heal...eventually. Jonny almost choked in surprise; he'd been around Vasili more than most but even he hadn't fully witnessed him at his most enraged...he still wasn't now but at least it served as an example. Deciding it'd be a good idea to cover the sound of what came next Jonny went a turned on the old LP Player that was down here for the amusement of those tasked with keeping Vasili company; it was almost entertaining from that point on to watch Vasili utterly pulverise this poor neonate like he was nothing more than meat to the sound of the Specials. |
Dol![]() Vasili Stomalkov | Theme Rebecca Lovelace | Vincent Tadeu | |
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| Nora Penvellyn | Friday, 15. February 2013, 03:22 Post #5 |
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Rebel With a Cause
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The smell of his blood, the sound of his heart pounding in his chest, it was too much. It took every ounce of control she had in her being to keep herself collected as she watched him stumble back and smear blood all over the wall and his face. She backed away, giving him room as he collapsed and began retching on the floor. The sharp stench of vomit slapped her in the face and was more then enough to deter her from the blood he was inadvertently tempting her with. She knelt down beside him, ignoring his question, and glancing to the puddle of his stomach contents. She spied the pills, or what was left of them... had he overdosed? She couldn't be sure; she'd never fancied pills enough to pop too many of them. Blow was a different story, but a girl could never get enough of that. She'd ask him later, but until then, she'd figure out who the fuck this kid was and why he'd just made a mess of her bar. It was eerie how quickly he'd snapped from quiet and recluse to feral and violent. She'd ask about that later as well. Sighing, Nora slid her arm under his and hoisted him up to his feet. She looked over shoulder to the barkeep, "Nothing you can't handle cleaning up?" Here merely shook his head, shooing her off to the office with a small smile on his lips. He wasn't a man of many words, but seeing that smile normally meant he'd been entertained enough to not mind. He wasn't a fan of Marcus either, it appeared. Helping him into the office, she deposited him in a slumped heap onto the worn sofa and pulled the old wheelie chair over beside it. She rummaged through the drawers of the desk, and returned to his side with a t-shirt in one hand and a cheap bottle of vodka in the other. She looked to him rather stoically for a few moments, wondering just who this man was. He didn't look local at all, and his voice, as small and broken as it may have been, still sounded American. He'd piqued her interest, otherwise she wouldn't be helping him. She unscrewed the bottle, leaving it to rest between her legs as she tore the t-shirt rather effortlessly into strips with her teeth. Soaking one of the remnants with in alcohol, she took a hold of his hands and rested them palms up in her lap, "To answer your question, yes, you did hurt someone. Actually, a two or three people." She quipped, her tone oddly cheerful. She gently dabbed the cuts in his hands with it, wiping away the blood as she worked, "Don't fret though, I'm sure they're counting their stars for getting a beating from you instead of me." She looked up to him and smiled warmly. She worked quickly, cleaning his hands and wrapping them with the strips of cotton she'd torn and moving up to clean the dry blood, vomit, and spittle from his face. When she was finished, she handed him the bottle and gave him some space as she rolled back about a foot or two and sank into the chair, "Drink up. You must need it more then I." She laughed lightly, crossing her legs at the knee and letting her hands rest in her lap, watching him curiously with a smirk playing on her lips. After a few moments of silence, she finally spoke again, "So... As I said earlier, I'm Nora. And you are...?" |
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| GoldMonk | Friday, 15. February 2013, 06:47 Post #6 |
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Kaz felt a cool arm wrap around him, though with how overheated he felt, he would have considered a sauna to be cool. As he was hoisted back upright, the fatigue of his episode hit him in its full force. His vision suddenly went black, and he slumped in the arms of his helper, only by her good graces being able to stay upright at all. Vaguely he heard a voice in his ear, speaking to another. "Nothing you can't handle cleaning up?" Kaz tried to insist that he'd clean up the mess, but dizziness and fatigue must have slurred and quieted his words to being near unintelligible. The woman by his side paid him no mind and marched him forward. He had regained his vision fairly quickly, but it didn't really help. Seeing the chaos he had caused made him burn red in the face with shame and stare down to his feet, unwilling to meet the gazes of the patrons in the bar. So focused he was on his feet, in fact, that he didn't notice they had changed locations until he was dropped into a sofa. He looked up in confusion as the woman bustled around the office, returning with a t-shirt and a bottle of vodka. He was perplexed by these sundries until she sat next to him and took his hands. Again he blushed with shame. Here he was thinking that he was only being walked out the door, but here this woman had invited him into his office and was even tending his self-inflicted wounds. He wasn't sure if he could feel more ashamed. "To answer your question, yes, you did hurt someone. Actually, a two or three people." He stood corrected. Every aspect of Kaz seemed to shrink a little at the declaration. "Don't fret though, I'm sure they're counting their stars for getting a beating from you instead of me." The faintest hint of a smile played on Kaz' lips, but it faded rather quickly as she smiled up to him. Again he averted his eyes. He looked to his hands, now cleaned and covered as his caretaker moved on to cleaning his face. When she finished, she deposited the bottle into those hands and rolled away on her chair. "Drink up. You must need it more then I." She laughed. Why was she laughing? Kaz just couldn't understand how she didn't hate him. "So... As I said earlier, I'm Nora. And you are...?" "I'm Casey Grey, everybody calls me Kaz," he responded quickly and quietly. The words were so familiar to him they came unbidden. He gripped the neck of the bottle in between both hands. He squeezed tightly, the palms of his hands stinging in protest. His head throbbed dully, the migraine starting to return. The silence pervaded for a few more moments before Kaz worked up the nerve to speak. "I'm sorry." It wasn't much, but it was all he could think of. "I... I appreciate all of this, Nora, but... You don't owe me anything. I owe you, so... I'll make this up to you, I promise." Then the dreadful thought occurred to him. He hated it, but he had to ask. "I know I don't deserve to ask you any favors, but... Could you please... Not call the police?" |
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| Nora Penvellyn | Monday, 18. February 2013, 01:18 Post #7 |
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Rebel With a Cause
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"Kaz... It's got a ring to it. Pleasure to meet you." She said smoothly, with an ever charming, heart-melting smile donned on her lips. He began apologizing, talking about owing her as if he actually had something to give that she could benefit from... Or could he? "Oh please, don't worry about it. You aren't the first one to throw fists around her, and you most certainly won't be the last. It's in the budget," She giggled and watched him squirm in his seat. Then he asked her to not call the cops. She immediately burst into full-fledged laughter, "Cops? Here?" She spit out finally. Standing up and coming to sit by him, she took his hand into hers and patted it gently, wary of the self-inflicted wounds on his palms, "Believe you me, the Cops aren't wanted here. They know better then to come waltzing through my door... Not with the hell-hound downstairs that just so happens to fancy pork." She smiled wryly and let his hand fall back into his lap. "So, tell me Kaz, what's a handsome American like you doing in one of the roughest parts of London? Most people would slap your ass and call you mental." She laughed, turning her body to look at him more fully. She was genuinely curious about him and the quirks she'd already noticed. Let alone the sudden mood swing from furious to apologetic in a matter of seconds. Perhaps he was as mad as she was. Unfortunately for him, she knew it'd never change or get better. Perhaps this was a mortal she'd choose to keep close by. If anything, he'd prove to be a scrumptious meal... minus the pain pills, plus copious amounts of cocaine. The smell of his blood still lingered in the air temptingly. It took every ounce of control she had to keep the mask of her mortal coil from slipping. |
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| GoldMonk | Monday, 18. February 2013, 02:28 Post #8 |
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Kaz relaxed noticeably when Nora brushed off the idea of police involvement. He was very glad at that, but wondered why police were so cautious about this place. Certainly Nora's "hellhound," was merely a joke, but the rest of it felt sincere enough. He sighed in relief. The prospect of dealing with the courts at this point was terrifying to him. Even if he was acquitted of any assault charges, certainly he would be deemed a danger to society and placed in a mental ward. He shuddered as he thought of himself alone in a padded cell, waiting to die as his tumor slowly consumed him. No. That was no way to die. Whether she knew it or not, Kaz owed the remainder of his life to Nora. No matter how brief it might of been. Kaz supposed he could start making it up to her by at least being an entertaining guest. He knew how annoying he could get while he was mopey, so he started with smile. It was a start at least. Once he got talking, he was certain he could distract himself enough from his own problems. Nora made it easy with her questions. "So, tell me Kaz, what's a handsome American like you doing in one of the roughest parts of London? Most people would slap your ass and call you mental." Kaz shrugged. "Well, maybe I am a little mental. But I've already seen the major tourist traps. You know, Buckingham Palace, the London Eye, had a pie in Fleet Street and stared at Big Ben for a while. Of course, you can only stare at a giant clock for so long before realizing you're wasting time." Kaz leaned back in the sofa, staring into the ceiling. "Besides," he said. "I never was really interested in the tourist version of London. I wanted the real thing. To experience London as the locals did. If that meant heading off to some of the roughest parts of town, all the better." He turned his head on the back of the couch until he was looking sideways at Nora. "Know what I mean?" |
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| Stomalkov | Wednesday, 20. February 2013, 01:29 Post #9 |
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There was a muffled roar, it almost sounded like a bestial cry of happiness which reverberated from below. It was followed in short order by an audible thump as the floor vibrated as something large and hefty was slammed against it from below. To the people in the bar proper it was imperceivable over the normal background pub noises and shouted conversations, but in the office it could be heard and felt. There was another thump and then the sound of something heavy being dropped onto cold brick flooring, the high pitched hyena laugh of Daisy coming through from below combined with the dulled sound of the Specials which filtered gently through the floorboards. Next came the clunk of the stairs folding out and the hefty wall shuddering clunk of a behemoth's footsteps, a few moments later the door opened and a head crouched below the lintel as the figure struggle to fit his immensity through the space. His tight white and blue striped vest was stained a murky shade of red, "Dobryy vecher, Comrade Zoya; it is done." |
Dol![]() Vasili Stomalkov | Theme Rebecca Lovelace | Vincent Tadeu | |
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| Nora Penvellyn | Thursday, 21. February 2013, 02:43 Post #10 |
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Rebel With a Cause
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She listened to him, peering at him thoughtfully with an ever growing smile on her face. This was a brave one...or a stupid one, give or take the situation. She liked the attitude he carried with him. She'd never really seen the appeal of what all the other's who came to this country saw; then again, London had always been home, and she'd been in the darkest corners of the city and back to tell the tale. The sounds of what she assumed was Marcus being beaten to a bloody pulp seeped through the beaten wood floorboards. She wondered if Kaz had taken note of it yet. What the fuck was that mad man listening to, anyways? She couldn't blame him though. He had to have a spot of sunshine somewhere in his life...even if it was while he was literally beating the shit out of a snarky welp. The small thought became a rather daunting epiphany as far as understanding Vasili went. When Kaz looked at her, he'd be met with a sweet smirk, "Of course. Wouldn't want to be categorized as the same headache every other tourist in this godforsaken country is. I'll tell you one thing though, us locals? We're fucking savage. Anyone with the balls to walk these streets all by their lonesome is either unbelievably stupid or untouchable. But you? You may be fucking crazy, but you have my respect. You want to see the world for what it really is, yes? Not what the travel brochures paint it to be. I can't argue with that. I've been doing it for years..." She broke off into thought for a moment, thinking about all the places she'd been and things she'd seen since she'd met her first death. "Yet, I always wind up back here...for some reason I've yet to figure out myself." She'd realized after she said this, the ruckus beneath their feet had stopped. Just as she pondered the outcome, Vasili himself came through the door. Speak of the Devil! She turned her head, at the sound of the door opening, seeing the carnage that painted every inch of his skin and clothing, and all she could do was smile and laugh cheerfully, "Why thank you, Vasili! I do appreciate it. Clean yourself up and I'll be down in just a bit!" She glanced to Kaz once more, murmering below her breath, "Told you I had a hellhound in the basement." She said, her eyes twinkling with mirth. |
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| GoldMonk | Thursday, 21. February 2013, 05:49 Post #11 |
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Neonate
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As soon as Kaz turned his head, he was met with what he thought was the sweetest smirk he had seen in a very long while. He couldn't have matched the charm in that smile, but he couldn't help but try. As he listened to her response, he began to feel very close to this woman. While Nora's actions of mercy were unfamiliar to him, she seemed to understand him more than most. He thought of people he had known all his life who wanted nothing more than to put a filter over their eyes and ears and see the world the way they wanted to, to fit the world into their narrow cone of vision. Kaz wasn't interested in that, and it seemed that Nora wasn't either. That woman had a worldview and wanderlust that he knew all too much. Nora went quiet for a moment before continuing."Yet, I always wind up back here...for some reason I've yet to figure out myself." Kaz shrugged. "It's home," he said calmly. "It's not where you were born, where your family lives and, despite the cliche, it isn't even where the heart is. It may not even be a place you like. It's just where you know you need to be." It was Kaz' turn to break off as he thought of his father. He shrugged off whatever emotions the memories were bringing up with a scoff. "Don't mind me, Nora, I just start thinking up philosophical bullshit when I'm tired." It was at this moment that he noticed that Nora's attention was elsewhere. He followed the direction of her gaze until his met a very, very large man. He jumped slightly in his seat from the sight. "Jesus, fucking Christ," he said ungracefully. The man was covered in blood, made more startling considering there was a lot of him to cover. "How'd you get that all out of one guy? Did you visit a butcher's before you came up here?" Despite Kaz' surprised outburst, Nora seemed unfazed, even laughing at the gore-covered man. "Why thank you, Vasili! I do appreciate it. Clean yourself up and I'll be down in just a bit!" Kaz slowly turned to look at Nora with a mixed look of disgust and surprise. Nora met his gaze without any of his concern. "Told you I had a hellhound in the basement," she said mischievously. "No, shit," he said, looking back to the large blood-soaked man for a moment, then returning his gaze to Nora. "I thought that was something you just said to get me to behave. Well... It worked." Despite Kaz' flippancy, he was actually a little worried by sight. He thought briefly of stories of the Cartel in his hometown who would deal with miscreants and people who caused trouble in their own extra-legal sort of way. Kaz noted that his head started pounding and his heart started beating once again. He knew he couldn't let this happen again. Shutting his eyes, he doubled over in his seat and began rubbing his temples, breathing deeply through his nose and out his mouth. He began thinking of all the calming, meditative techniques he had been looking up ever since he first discovered his new, uncontrollable, cancerous temper. He began picturing warm sandy beaches in the sunset with palm trees. He imagined smelling the salty sea and hearing the smooth, rustling surf as it rushed onto the beach and retreating only to return and splash against the sand again. Soon, the fierce beating in his head subsided, and the inflamed vein in his forehead shrank back down, and his breathing returned to a low, steady, calm rate. With a relieved sigh, he propped his elbows against his knees. He still refused to look at the Russian man, for fear of those uncontrollable emotions bubbling up again. He smirked to himself as he reflected that despite how easily he succumbed to it, his greatest fear was being afraid. "I'm a coward," the destructive voice in his head whispered. Edited by GoldMonk, Saturday, 23. February 2013, 08:23.
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| Nora Penvellyn | Monday, 25. February 2013, 00:17 Post #12 |
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Rebel With a Cause
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Nora watched Vasili's large, fleeting figure as he exited, still will wearing her unethically keen smile. Once the door was closed behind him, her eyes flitted to Kaz and her cheerfulness was wiped away, "Are you alright?" she asked, the concern evident in her tone. She watched him, doubled over, and could hear his lungs heaving with ragged breaths. Was he about to get sick again? She was off the sofa in a moment's notice and returned, placing the waste basket that was beside the desk between his knees. She sat beside him once more, the sound of his heart pounding in his chest ringing in her ears. It'd be a long time since she'd kept company with a human... and it was starting to make her hungry. Fishing out her hip flask, she quickly squashed that though with a swig of it's contents before it could encourage her Beast any further. She sighed, placing a gentle hand on his back and rubbing it soothingly, using her nails to lightly rake across the expanse of his shoulder blades and down to the small of his back. Was that fear she smelled? It was distant, but still tangible...just an inkling it seemed, as time passed. His breathing began to return to it's even, steady pace. Was it Vasili that put him in such a scare? She knew he was intimidating, but she'd never seen someone react in such a way by merely looking at him. Than again, she supposed she was more desensitized to the blood and violence then most of her counterpart's kind were really used to. He said he was a coward, and she simply snickered. It wasn't often she came across someone so openly honest, "I don't think you're a coward... Vasili is quite an intimidating man. If he didn't listen to me as well as he chooses to, I'd be afraid of him too." She patted his back and withdrew her hand, watching him thoughtfully for some time. "Kaz... May I ask you a question?" She asked it carefully, testing the waters but not really patient enough to wait for a reply. "What's with the pills? It looked like you'd taken a lot of them before you lost your dinner..." She said rather flatly. She wore a soft smile, hoping he wouldn't mistake this for an interrogation, "Furthermore, I don't see why you consider yourself a coward in the first place. You proved you aren't one to be trifled with yourself not fifteen minutes ago. You've got one hell of an arm, kid." Which was the truth, considering getting the chair away from him was comparable to trying to yank something away from a grizzly bear. |
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| GoldMonk | Monday, 25. February 2013, 02:46 Post #13 |
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Neonate
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As supportive as Nora had been during his "episode", Kaz still hadn't been prepared for her questions. He knew they were coming, that was only natural, but still, he had no answer prepared. No response. he couldn't think of what he would say to her. What could he say? He had wished that she had reacted with anger. Anger he expected, anger he could accept. But this... Understanding. He had to admit, it was hurting his pride. He turned to look at Nora, met again with her soft smile. "They're pain pills," he said smartly. "They're for pain." He instantly regretted that curt response. With a sigh, he cradled his face in his hands again. "Sorry," he murmured. With a groan, he rose from the couch and moved to the other side of the room, eager to put some distance between himself and the woman whose compassion he had just spurned. He leaned against the opposite wall, resting his weight against his forearm and his back to Nora. Reaching into his pocket, he fished out a one pound piece, which he began to roll it between his knuckles while he thought about his condition. He reflected that no one in all of Europe knew about his condition. Even in America, the only individuals that knew about his tumor were the professionals that tried-and failed-to cure it. Apart from them, no one in the entire planet knew. Not his friends, not his coworkers, not even his father knew. That realization suddenly struck him with bitter pangs of loneliness. He considered telling Nora, weighing the idea in his mind. Was the idea that somebody might possibly have a shred of sympathy for him so terrifying? He looked over his shoulder and into Nora's eyes. He lingered there for a several moments, just thinking. This woman took him in and helped him, when all he had done for her was wreck her bar. In return she asked a few questions, and because of Kaz' foolish pride, all he did was bark at her. He returned his gaze to the wall again whispering to himself again. "You stupid fucking idiot." After a few more silent moments of contemplation, he threw his hands up in the air in resignation. "Fuck it," he said, and turned to face Nora. He stood straight, his shoulders even with hers and again looking her directly in the eyes. "I'm not saying this because I want pity, you understand," he began. "I just want someone to understand who I really was. Someone who knows..." That was all he could get out before his words caught within his throat again. Embarassed at his own reluctance, his eyes again flitted to the corners of the room, and back down to his feet again. He inhaled, ready to continue, and opened his mouth, but nothing could come out. Twice more, he tried, and twice more the air was expelled in wordless, defeated sighs. After another minute of silence, he righted himself, resolved. He wasn't going to censor himself, just going to talk and let it all out. "I'm... dying," the words came out finally. He realized for a moment that those words were the first time he had ever made that admission out loud. It had an affect on him, but he couldn't say what exactly it was. He knew he needed to keep talking now, or he'd shut up again after he lost his momentum, so he continued. "I've got a tumor in my head. Inoperable, no doctor will touch it. Chemotherapy didn't help and it's still growing, so..." he couldn't admit that he was dying again. Not so soon, so he let her finish his sentence. He decided to explain his medications next. "It gives me really nasty migraine headaches, so that's why I take so many pills. Not really concerned about abusing them now, for... obvious reasons." He was doing alright so far, so he decided to move onto his behavior. "My tumor is riding against my amygdala, which--I'm told--is the aggression and fear center of my brain, so sometimes I just... Lose it. I can't control myself when I get scared." He lowered his head. "So that's why I'm a coward." He felt himself losing his composure again, so he slunked against the wall again and leaned his back against it, folding his arms and staring at the floor. "I didn't want to just wait in a psyche ward for my life to end, and I had always wanted to leave home and see the world, so... Now seemed like a good time. For the last few months I've been travelling across Europe. London was my... Last stop. The deadline my doctor gave me is up, so..." He was forced to stop again. "So, that's it." He wished he could have ended it better, but he couldn't force himself to speak anymore. He didn't say anything more. He didn't move, he didn't even look at Nora. He just waited for some response, any response. At the very least, someone would remember him. Edited by GoldMonk, Monday, 25. February 2013, 02:47.
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| Nora Penvellyn | Tuesday, 26. February 2013, 05:39 Post #14 |
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Rebel With a Cause
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The sharp response she was met with when she asked about the pain pills was rather frustrating, but she decided to let it go. Kaz was lucky to find Nora in a decent mood this night; getting an attitude normally only earned her adversary a swift punch in the face. Despite being so hot-tempered herself, she strove to be understanding when it was necessary. The young man beside her was obviously harboring a great amount of pain and struggle. He wouldn't be so tense to divulge on his condition if he weren't. She watched him get off the couch and pace to the wall. He finally began speaking, rather reluctantly, but she did her best to keep a straight and unmoved expression as he spoke. Her heart wanted to break for him, but she knew it wouldn't help the situation any. It sounded like he was still coming to terms with the inevitable... But did it really have to come to that? Nora sat back in silence, tossing the idea around in her head. Was now really the time to bring another into the fold? It almost seemed cruel to bring him into this world when it was in such a state of turmoil... But it would save him. This man had a good head on his shoulders when he was thinking clearly. She saw the potential he had in strength and combat, whether it was voluntarily done or not. What would Sullivan say about this? Would he approve? Was she even ready to take on such a task? There still so much she could have learned herself... What if she passed along the same addiction she carried in her blood to him? Would it really matter? She finally looked at him, though he was doing everything in his power to look at her. She got off the couch, nearing him with care as not to invade his space too quickly. The last thing she needed was him snapping out again. She gently curled a finger under his chin and raised his downtrodden gaze to meet hers, "I don't know much about you, Kaz. I don't need to. But, there are two things I know for certain. One of them is that you are a very brave young man. You carry the weight of a death sentence on your shoulders, yet you haven't let it stop you. You're far from home; I'm sure you left family and friends behind so they wouldn't have to watch you die. It's valiant, but it's also lonely." Nora let his chin fall once more, hoping she gave him enough encouragement to at least hold it up on his own. She crossed her arms beneath her bust and sighed as she looked him over... he had so much potential and didn't even realize it. "I understand much more then you may think." She said finally, "I'd like to see you again, Kaz. Do yourself a favor and come back on Wednesday night." She broke away and drifted to the door, "You aren't alone in this city anymore. If you ever need anything, my door is always open." She was still wearing the same soft smile, waiting for him to depart. She hoped he wasn't coward enough to shy away from her offer. Now it was time to deal with the company Vinnie had brought in. It seemed like this night was never going to end. |
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3:54 PM Jul 11