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| The Primogen come together | |
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| Topic Started: Saturday, 23. February 2013, 03:48 (425 Views) | |
| Renard | Saturday, 23. February 2013, 03:48 Post #1 |
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Master Chief
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It was exactly twenty minutes to eleven. The last preparations had been completed and Carew Manor was ready to welcome the movers and shakers of the London domain. Or at least most of them. The Prince wasn't really expected, so it would basically be the London Primogen with entourage and the Sheriff. The place was ready and the staff had been instructed down to the last detail to make sure the guests were comfortable and their requests cold be fulfilled as long as they stayed within what could be seen as reasonable. Anyone getting near the estate passing through the gates found the place illuminated and the first retainers waiting for their modes of transport and possibly their luggage. (Sorry for keeping it short, but I have no detailed idea what Carew Manor looks like and am unsure whether making something up would do it justice) Henderson waited for the first of his colleagues to arrive. He had put on one of his more... appropiate attires he normally reserved for the most formal things, although this made his lain cane stick out even more. He checked everything for the last time to make sure it was sufficient, then made his way to the front to welcome his guests. |
![]() Verba docent, exempla trahunt ! | |
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| Lochlan O'Connell | Thursday, 7. March 2013, 20:22 Post #2 |
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Elder
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Archon came up to Carew Manor in his Limo and then stepped out. He was wearing a blood red suit with a tie as black as night it self. His hair was as usual slicked back with his scented oils and his shoes like his tie were black dress. He wore a ring on his right hand that bore the symbol of Clan Ventrue, the ever majestic Scepter. Archon looked more than handsome, he always did, such handsome looks preserved forever. He smiled a charming smile and made his way up to Renard. He gave Renard a bow of head. "Mr. Henderson I so hope that I am not late for our Proceedings." Archon stated his charming smile still gracing his lips. Archon knew that he was not late in fact if anything he was a bit early. Which worked for him he hated being the last one to arrive and he was never the last one to arrive unless it was deliberate intention. So this was the place they were to conduct their business. Interesting, lovely place Archon thought. "What a lovely venue and thank you kindly my good sir for meeting me out here yourself, you do me an honor. Has any of our other colleagues made it here thus far or is it only the two of us? You know I would have expected Primogen Lovelace to be here by now, the Tremere usually pride themselves on their punctuality nearly as much as my own Clan. But enough of that, tell me Primogen Henderson, how does the night treat you? Well I entrust?" Archon asked his fellow Primogen making small talk, small talk it was but archon was completely genuine. Archon decided to stand beside Renard until the others arrived, or as many as would show up after all. |
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And a Shepherds I shall be For thee, my Lord, for thee. Power hath descended forth from Thy hand that my feet may swiftly carry out Thy commands. So I shall flow a river forth to Thee And teeming with souls shall it ever be. In Nomeni Patri Et Fili Spiritus Sancti. | |
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| Rebecca Lovelace | Thursday, 7. March 2013, 22:39 Post #3 |
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Fledgling
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A black Bentley with black tinted windows arrived outside the Manor, the classic car making its way up to the front of the House. As it stopped Stoker, who had driven Rebecca here, got out and opened the passenger door for her to step out, dressed as she usually was in a fairly plain maudlin dress which ran to her knees; her legs were covered by thick black stockings. The whole affair made her look vaguely reminiscent of Wednesday Addams, particularly considering her alabaster skin and the fact that she lived out eternity in the body of a girl on the cusp of adulthood. Tonight she had gone to the effort of hiding the tattoos about her face, the members of the Primogen doubtless knew about them, but still she was repeatedly assured that it didn't do to look 'peculiar' at such events. Stepping through the brisk air straight into the manor without a moment's pause, entering and making her way directly to the other Primogen without a word. She did not bother to regard those around her or acknowledge anyone, in fact she didn't much care; the only reason she was here was because protocol demanded it and if she didn't she risked losing her place as Primogen of the Tremere in London. Blast these social events and the niceties that went with them and blast these damned Primogen, walking around in their tailored suits stinking up the place with cologne and perfumes. Rebecca probably smelt vaguely of burnt copper, or to those with a stronger sense of smell, sulphur; a side-affect of some of the work she'd be doing recently. Seeing that Archon, the Ventrue one and Henderson the Nosferatu were here she simply took a seat, not much caring what they had to say, but forcing herself to feign as much interest as she could. Rebecca had never been much good at paying attention to boring people who only had boring things to say; now if one of them had something interesting to say, on the topic of perhaps Kindred Lore, or historic artefacts then maybe, just maybe she'd be able to drag herself into more than a mood of annoyed disdain. Leaning her chin on the fist she regarded her fellow Primogen and pretended to care about what they were saying. |
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Dol Rebecca Lovelace | Vincent Tadeu Rebecca's Theme | Vincent's Theme | |
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| A.W.Stoker | Thursday, 7. March 2013, 23:45 Post #4 |
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Childe
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As he watched the manor coming into his field of view above the steering wheel in his hands, he immediately started to evaluate the security aspects of it - ambush zones, escape routes, positioning of guards and surveilance equipment... Even though the probabilites of his Mistress being exposed to any danger during her stay here were quite low, he wasn't quite willing to risk anything... And given her obliviousness to anything non-arcane, someone *had* to pay attention to little details such as this. He carefully parked the car, taking special care not to stop on a place with any puddles of water. He stepped out of the car, wearing a long black trenchcoat over his usual formal attire - the "uniform" his Mistress chose for him - and opened the door with his hand in black leather driver glove. "M'lady..." As she stepped out, he handed over the keys to the car to the valet, stuffed his gloves into the pocket of his coat and followed Rebecca into the manor, carrying an umbrella along with him - sure, it might not rain at the moment, but on the off chance it rained on their way back, he would be prepared to shield her Mistress from it... |
![]() http://jirkamothejzik.blog.cz/ http://www.facebook.com/jiri.mothejzik.9 | |
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| Matthew Harkness | Saturday, 6. April 2013, 18:28 Post #5 |
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Arimathean War Dog
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Out of the woods on the other side of the road emerged a creamy coloured malamute with caramel streaks and patches through his fur and floppy ear tips. He looked left, then right, before crossing the fog shrouded road at a light and jaunty pace, his claws clicking on the asphalt. He passed through the gate, moving quickly, but still holding himself with confidence so that he didn't look hurried. The Gangrel trotted through the yard and past the retainers and servants. A valet was climbing into the side of a limo that had pulled in front of the manor. Matthew, as the malamute, jumped on the hood of car, much to the dismay of the valet who had just settled into his seat, skittered across it and hopped back down. The Gangrel continued forward, up the steps and into the main room, where he jumped on to an unoccupied seat and settled down, not bothering to make any changes to his appearance, and waited for the meeting to begin. |
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1:48 AM Jul 11