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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: |
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| Oтчаяние; Leslie, Nora | |
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| Topic Started: Wednesday, 13. March 2013, 00:27 (1,943 Views) | |
| Leslie | Monday, 29. April 2013, 20:44 Post #21 |
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Flemish... furry... flirty... feline! (YODO) Perfection Purrs!
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Nora was watching her with a blank gaze but it wasn't completely empty there was something strange in them as well, almost like amusement in her pretty eyes. It made Leslie squirm a little and feel squeamish. She wondered what was going on in Nora's mind. Whatever it was it was probably not good or at least not for the young Gangrel. She flinched as she noticed Nora coming closer and even... giggling? That was disturbing to say the least. Not soon after she got hit across the face and now it was Leslie's time to giggle but that quickly stopped when she gulped while seeing Nora's claw so close to her face. The anger started to change into annoyance especially when she heard the Russian laugh. Why did he laugh? Was this shit so funny to him? His deafening laughter made an echoing sound from wall to wall until it attacked her ears and mind. A low growl started to emit from the deepest depths from her belly. It lasted for a few seconds or even longer and had a very menacing vibe untill she screamed. "What the fuck is so funny King Kong?! Damn idiot!" Then she fixed her gaze upon Nora. "And you! You little bitch! You talk about being weak and that I should put up fight while I'm hanging here because you let your minions do your dirty work! You didn't even had the decency to bring me down yourself. And I didn't fucking BEG! I demand it! The way you talk I seem to have no idea on how to be a real Gangrel and maybe you're right but I've been fighting the night on my own the entire time. I tried to survive from night to night. I never had an example and I have lived too close to humans because I indeed like the fairy tale. It's the only thing that remotely feels like a home... So why would you care for how I end? It doesn't seem I'm even worthy to join your damn ranks! she spat at her and wriggled to feel the pain that was now keeping her sharp and focused. This was a rollercoaster of emotions. "Want to know what I learned? Huh... you wanna know it all? Well here it comes. I should have died that same night with my parents. I should have never followed the advice of an unknown coward Sire to come to London. I should have let the Sabbat kill me when I accidently took refuge in one of their havens. I should have stayed in Paris.... I... " she shook her head already regretting the witty comments. "Nope there's more. Respect the fucking grounds even if you just want to get laid." she burst out laughing. "You know what Nora? I just always end up on the wrong side of the fence without thinking about it. It's how my life has always been and probably how it will stay. I'm already used to it and to being on my own. I have... whatever Nora, forget about it. Just go and prance around like a good little Baroness." Even after all that had happened this night she still didn't hate Nora. She respected the woman as the Gangrel she was but also as the leader she was. Nora could never falter, never lose her cool, she had to stay brave and strong for those beneath her and everyone who believed in her. The Baroness seemed far from the typical leader and maybe that was why she seemed so appealing to Leslie. The young one shrugged and seemed to be debating with herself in her thoughts. |
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| Nora Penvellyn | Sunday, 5. May 2013, 06:39 Post #22 |
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"He's far from idiotic. It's kind of like the pot calling the kettle black, don't you think?" She sucked in a breath as Damon passed her in silence, her eyes wandering to Linda's crumpled and bloodied remains just a few feet away with a trace of sadness. She was an eager crack whore, that Linda...whoever the fuck she was. Vasili lingered in silence, his rage seeming to cool to a burning simmer as soon as the uninvited Brujah had exited. Leslie's angry rambling was like white noise that blurred with the idle music and bar chatter that seeped through the floorboards from above. Nora finally looked to her with a smug grin as she stepped away from the door and let it slam shut, brushing past Vasili to loom before her, "You can insult me all you like, but at the end of the day, you'll still be strung up like a cow waiting for slaughter." She drew closer to the girl, sighing as her slim fingers brisked deftly from Leslie's chin to her forehead, pushing wayward strands of hair from her face, "I've always been a bitch. That's nothing new. Do yourself a favor and listen to the stupid bullshit that's falling out of your mouth before you speak. We're all slaves to our own will. You'd do well to choose one that doesn't involve pretending you're something that you're not." She spoke softly, as if she were comforting a child with a scraped knee. "The night that you accept what you really are will be the night you truly start to see this world for what it is. It's ugly, and cruel, and teeming with heartless bitches like me that used to be just like you. People like me, though? We're jaded, we're pissed off, and we don't know when to stop. You know why? Because it doesn't matter how ridiculous this world gets; we still look for reasons to make it worth living in, to make it a better place so at least someone can enjoy it, even if it's just for a night." Nora backed away from Leslie, "So, I will go off and be a 'good little Baroness', because as long as the Sabbat are in this city, it won't be safe for my people. You may be just one Sword Sister, but you're also one less threat my friends and loved ones have to worry about tonight." Making her way back towards the door, she motioned for Vasili to join her, "Just some food for thought... Hope you aren't afraid of the dark." She giggled as she flipped the light switch off, following the Russian out and letting the door slam shut once more behind her. |
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| Leslie | Wednesday, 8. May 2013, 09:40 Post #23 |
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Flemish... furry... flirty... feline! (YODO) Perfection Purrs!
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Slaughter? That word definitely had the right effect on her. The anger backed down and tiredness started to take over again. She should have let Nora leave. She should have kept her mouth shut and stayed silent. When Nora came closer and looked at her Leslie looked down and away from the woman. The fight was becoming too much. This was the worst struggle she had ever been through. Never before had someone been able to make her break this way and make her feel comforted and wonderful at the same time. The young one closed her eyes and again a purr escaped her when she felt the fingers of the Baroness stroke her face. This was all so confusing, too confusing. Why wasn’t she just angry and pissed off at the woman? Why didn’t she felt the hatred she was supposed to feel towards others that weren’t from the Sabbat? This time when Nora finished talking Leslie stayed silent. She watched as Nora left and the sound of the door slamming shut was almost like a relieve to Leslie. Finally she could rest even though it wasn’t comfortable hanging here like this. She loved the dark and it didn’t take long before she felt the fatigue seep into her body and mind. Still the thoughts kept on spinning. Nora was right about everything and she hated to admit it to the woman. She wondered what time it was by now. Normally she had to be in touch with DJ. He would let her know when and where she had to be to leave London. If the time had passed too much and he hadn’t heard from her yet he would assume she’s dead. He was the last solutions she had to disappear... well Leslie knew there was only one option left for her and it would be set in motion from the moment she was released here if she ever got released. There was little concentration left within the girl. The darkness consumed everything including her mind and it didn’t take long for her to fall asleep. Even with all the pain and confusing slumbering in her thoughts she was able to finally sleep. |
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| Sullivan | Sunday, 26. May 2013, 20:26 Post #24 |
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Sullivan swept down into the Tripper's cellar expecting a fight - Nora's scent was here, sure, but Vasili wasn't exactly a fresh flower - but there was no sign of either. Daisy sat quietly, a half-giggle playing across her lips, Barty silent but for a raised eyebrow. Sullivan didn't give an explanation to either of them - if they wanted one, they'd have to force it out of him, and neither had what it took. The fact that they knew it already made passing down into the depths easier. Each step of his booted feet rang eerily off of the rough-cut walls, prickling his ears with the slow, pulsing echo. This wasn't new territory for him... But it'd certainly been a while since he'd last set foot in a dungeon. The smell was the same, despite not being his own old barrow - blood, rusting chains, the dying remnants of screams permeating the stonework - it was all here. He could smell Leslie, to - not unexpected, though he'd hoped she would be held without a great deal of harm, at least until tomorrow night when there was more time to work. But Vasili knew human torture - and, for all his monstrous nature, only had the patience of a kine. The Irish Lion slowed, a hanging mass of pulpy flesh and blood-matted hair off to his left. He glanced from swaying feet to bruised, broken ribs, hung head and blood-soiled hands. She'd made a great many mistakes, but Leslie hadn't earned this. All she'd done was choose the wrong side in ignorance. He sighed, pulling a chair towards him before realizing how pointless that would be - offering her a seat wasn't going to make this go faster, just make her think he was here to mock her more. Dipping his hand into what little water remained in the dented bucket on the floor, Sullivan flicked a few drops into leslie's face to ensure she was awake when he began speaking. Stroking the nearby small table's edge cautiously as he observed Vasili's tools laid out neatly, Sullivan drew back his hand and swung, sending them all flyign from the tabke and clattering to the floor. Sitting hismelf on the table with one foot planted firmly on the unused chair, Sullivan spoke with a rasping, almost nostalgic voice, "Ye got off lightly here Kid. In my day, ye'd be eyeless an' feedin' from yer own chopped off fingers by now." He levelled his ironclad stare on Leslie like an infantryman aims a rifle, holding her attention because the look alone demanded it. "But then, if ye've been treated like this... Maybe ye've begun ta see what the Sabbat does best. It doesn't attack anyone without a purpose, see. It's not a gun, not a brute-force weapon... It's a disease." Reaching into the bucket, Sullivan took the wet cloth from it and lightly squeezed it against the long, bloody cut across his face, mopping up the fresh bleed-through. "It threatens people who try to be better'n what they are... Until they feel forced into actin' in ways they know they shouldn't. It drives fear into hearts of those who thought they were fearless... An' it makes those suddenly fearful people attack others who meant them no ill. Even you." |
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| Leslie | Monday, 27. May 2013, 10:37 Post #25 |
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Flemish... furry... flirty... feline! (YODO) Perfection Purrs!
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The sleep was working its magic upon her mind and body. Tiny healings had occurred but it wasn’t anything major because she just didn’t have enough strength or blood to fully heal. The rest was welcome but wouldn’t last very long. In the back of her mind she could hear footsteps or was she imagining things now? There was no movement in her, not until she felt tiny drops of cold water against her face. It took a while before she aroused from her rather peaceful sleep. When she noticed Sullivan she felt scared... again. What was going to happen now? This was going to drive her insane and she just hoped and wished he would end it. Her eyes widened as she saw his hand near the torture tools but instead of picking one out to use on her he threw them of the table. There was confusion rising within the young Gangrel. She looked up at him. It hurt to move but she felt forced to look him in the eye. Somehow Sullivan felt like someone she could trust. He didn’t disturb her but gave her a soothing vibe which was completely foolish perhaps but she couldn’t help how she felt. She needed to concentrate to understand what he was saying. It took minutes of focusing her thoughts before she was able to speak. “I don’t need another lecture Sullivan.” She moaned when she tried to get a better view of him. “I get the point already and if you guys hadn’t invited me for this party I would have been gone already. None of y’all make sense at the moment. I figured out already I believed in something that has never been real... “ She paused, trying to focus again and she took an unnecessary deep and hurtful breath. “... I’m not without fear and I didn’t attack or even intended to attack anyone.” She was uncertain of what he meant and of what he was actually trying to say she just responded to the few words that reached her mind. “I’m cured of the disease... thank you.” She genuinely said. There was no mocking, no laughing, no sarcasm... she meant it. Leslie understood that she didn’t belong where she thought her home was. Maybe she just realised she didn’t belong anywhere anymore. Wait! Was she talking to someone? About what? Her mind was gone again.The sleep took over and her head fell down while the darkness absorbed her thoughts. Edited by Leslie, Monday, 27. May 2013, 10:55.
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| Sullivan | Monday, 27. May 2013, 11:59 Post #26 |
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Sullivan sighed, and reached inside his coat as Leslie waned - she'd burned a lot of blood just to survive the night so far. Without something to pick her up again, there was no way she'd remain in the land of the living - even if none of them truly belonged there anymore. Retrieving the blood bag - one of his, as Nora needed a whole other supply, even if it didn't feed her addiction - he pierced the top with a strong thrust of his thumbnail, and placed the opening firmly at Leslie's lips, "Drink." He uttered, a fair amount of force behind the word. He had been kind - or at least indifferent - to Leslie in many of their previous interactions, but he didn't have time for it right now. Half of Nora's anger tonight was his doing, which meant half of Leslie's wounds were on his shoulders. The best he could do for her was to help her heal. He wanted to cut one of her hands down, let her drink on her own - but if this was to work, then he would likely need to leave her as she was. Nora would come back to finish the job tomorrow night, or the night after - she wouldn't leave leslie too long. Her beast wasn't patient enough. "I ever tell ye what I did when I was in the ranks?" The Irishman asked absent mindedly, his gaze trailing around the grungy little chamber. Turning his gaze back to the blood-bag and finding it empty, Sullivan returned to his table without cutting Leslie down, "I was an enforcer - sort of a combined torturer an' bodyguard. What Vasili did here... Tch. Is amateur work, but I guess it's amateur work done well." Sullivan paused briefly - he didn't like delving this deep into his past. Even Nora didn't know the details. But He was going to share them with Leslie, because she deserved to know just how lucky she was to have decided so soon to get out. "I'm not tellin' ye this ta lecture ye, lass. I'm tellin' ye because unless ye're told what ye've managed to avoid, ye'll never really understand the kind o' hatred most of the Anarchs have fer the Sabbat. I'd untie ye and let ye down, but the problem with that is that Nora's gonna comeback one o' these nights, an' she'll wanna finish what she's started - or, let ye go in terrible condition, make ye easy pickings fer your former comrades." Sullivan dabbed the bloody cut to his face again, and locked eyes with the younger Gangrel. "So no lectures. No lessons. Just a very real story about how it can all go wrong, and what the people who'll come after ye are gonna do if they ever catch ye. Believe it or not, lass, I'd rather they not get their hooks in ye again - as a sister, or worse." Throwing the cloth back into the bucket, Sullivan gestured towards Leslie, "Considerin' I haven't even told Nora the whole truth, what I'm offerin' is rare. Naturally, I'd suggest ye take me up on it - but it ain't my choice. As one final word to the wise, though - ye decide ta run from the Sword without knowing what their tactics are? They'll find ye. Got three marks meself to prove it." |
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| Leslie | Monday, 27. May 2013, 13:17 Post #27 |
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Flemish... furry... flirty... feline! (YODO) Perfection Purrs!
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Leslie felt something close to her and smelled blood! Fuck yeah! She smelled blood. That woke her up instantly and eagerly without thinking she just gulped as much as she could. He didn’t need to say anything as she was quick enough to start feeding from whatever he offered her. It was a welcome gift and it did what it had to do. Her mind became clearer and she could feel a glow surging through her body. Slight healings happened beneath the surface. She focused on the interior damage and not on the damage of her appearance so it wouldn’t be too obvious she was healing. “Thanks... but why are you doing this Sullivan? Everyone seems to see me as a lost cause so why are you here?” she grunted and wriggled trying to make her position slightly better than it was but it was no use. She listened to his words and frowned a little. Her voice sounded much clearer now and you could tell by the look in her eyes that the sanity and the focus were back. So Sullivan wanted to share his past and his story with her. “I didn’t know you were once a part of the Sabbat. I would love to hear it and if I can take your word for it than I won’t even have the time to share it with anyone because I’m as good as death, right?” She tried to be light about it. With a little laugh that sounded like a bark she smiled at him. “Don’t worry about that. I’m used to hanging around.” Then she paused and sighed. “I was planning on leaving without anyone knowing actually. I figured no one would notice my disappearing but now with the public kidnapping that happened it will be harder to vanish...” her voice turned into a whisper and a blood tear rolled over her cheek. “I’m... I’m sorry... I just... I never thought I would end up like this. I always tried to do what I thought was best. I never really did what I was supposed to do or what was expected from me but I also never went against their rules that way I was able to stay under the radar.” If she was honest though she had done things she wasn’t proud of and the first few months she had been a genuine sister but the last years she had found it easier to live on her own. |
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| Sullivan | Friday, 31. May 2013, 00:27 Post #28 |
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Sullivan settled himself and leaned his elbows on his knees, catching sight of a body and disregarding it as yet another piece of standard torture-room furniture. It was sad for someone to be dead, sure... But there was little he could do now. Wasting tears on it changed nothing. "I was embraced in the thirties - prize fighter on the amateur boxing circuit, twenty-one straight wins with no losses... It was as if there was nothing I couldn't do. Fer a country boy like me ta get that kind o' success in the city, it ain't a small thing - or it wasn't back then." Sullivan gripped his fingers together and sighed, "I was a fool. Alasdair - my sire - he took me through a 'short-cut' and tore my throat open - drained me as painfully as he could and turned me right there. Last thign he did before the hunger really kicked in was crack me over the head with a shovel and start shuffling the earth back into the grave he'd knocked me into." Sullivan reached into his inside coat pocket and drew out a small flask, draining the whiskey from it in one, "When I rose back up, throwing earth in every direction, he made sure my mother was there, in amongst the first people I drained. Truth be told, I never managed ta forgive him fer that - not that I shoulda had to." Standing up, Sullivan arched his back in a lazy stretch, "He'd had me blood-bonded before I was turned - secret fitness drink recipe, he'd said. Christ, was I green. Too green to wonder why I could strike down men twice my size. But I figured it out when he started introducin' me to vampire traditions and shit like that. I was told to guard him, use my fightin' skills as a way to keep him safe. I was a fuckin' trophy, proof that Alasdair was such a good Elder that he didn't need ta fight his own battles anymore. Fuckin' joke." Awkwardly, Sullivan removed his coat, leaving it lying on the table and folding his arms, toying with the braids in his mane - another reminder of Nora. "When he saw me 'work' with my disciplines for the first time, he had me pull double duty as a bodyguard an' a torturer. I've replaced eyes with new, wrong ones and forced Kindred to heal 'em into place. I'm told ye never see the same way again. I've had people - at my order - be targeted by pin-point blasts of UV light. Not even a split second in terms o' the length o' exposure, but enough to leave some very deep scars. I've had Kindred be beaten senseless by their own sawn-off limbs, starved of blood and given wine instead... Ye name a vile torture method, I've done worse. An' this is all before the Sabbat really had a presence in London." He brought his gaze to meet hers with an intense darkness swirling in it, a look filled with regrets, hatred and deeds more vile than most would dare admit to, "Then the invasion came. Monroe swept in with a massive force, but those of us already in the city... Long before he turned up, we were laying the ground work. In that one event alone, the Anarchs of London were shattered into pieces. Due to the invasion, lass, I can say without a doubt that I've killed more Kindred than you've ever met." Edited by Sullivan, Friday, 31. May 2013, 12:37.
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| Leslie | Friday, 31. May 2013, 12:40 Post #29 |
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Flemish... furry... flirty... feline! (YODO) Perfection Purrs!
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Memories flashed through her mind when he began his story. Rob, Nora, him and Leslie on the rooftop that night. She remembered Sullivan mentioning something about the Sabbat but at that time she had been too occupied with Rob to really care about what he had said. So much had changed meanwhile. She had become so different, soft, foolish, naive... no! Naive was something she had always been, naive and childish to believe in the fluffy fairy tales about being one with the family. There was nothing left of that anymore. There had been a time that she believed it was right to follow the rules and do what others wanted her to do but she was no longer that ghost, that empty shell. How could she turn this around? How could she break free and be herself again? If it was even possible to find that solution than she hoped it would come soon because at that moment Leslie was gone. Nothing was left anymore of her soul if she still had any. The young one was broken and lost. This had taken a lot of her emotional strength away. Each word from Sullivan was heavy and filled with a weary vibe that consumed him and the entire room. His story had quite the impact on Leslie. It knocked even more sense in her and she knew she was lucky for the way she had been Embraced. Her eyes followed his movements, his stretching, and his fiddling with his hair. His voice dripping with his accent as usual seemed so old and so wounded. Her eyes widened when he mentioned that he had drained his own mother and the rest of his story didn’t became any sweeter. It was filled with the terror the Sabbat truly stood for and Leslie began to wonder why she had never seen it like that. She had always been kept under the wings of Volodya, the Priest and Tzimisce who had given her and promised her so much to believe in. Now she started to understand that she was supposed to be the pretty poster girl to show that the Sabbat weren’t mindless shovelheads. She had seen the best side of the Sabbat and had been given the pretty tasks that made her use her female touch and her slender form. It had all been prepared so well. She had been kept stupid so she would think she meant something and belonged somewhere. When Sullivan came close and looked at her she stared right back at him. There was much more evil in even those who seemed so... so genuine. Sullivan was the last man she would expect it from that he was such a monster but in the end they all were monsters and this was something Leslie had to accept. Her voice was hoarse when she spoke. “I remember you mentioning the Sabbat that night on the rooftops. I didn’t know you were...” she didn’t know how to describe it. “... that you have been so deep in the Sabbat. I’m lucky with my Embrace. Someone owned my uncle a boon or something...” She tried to shrug for she didn’t know what a boon was. It only made her young ignorance come forward even more. There was so little she knew and yet she had survived so long. “I got Embraced in the night and I still don’t know by who. I got the easy way in but I’m apparently going to leave this world the hard way.” She chuckled while trying to be light about it again but it was so hard to do for there were only dark and vile thoughts in her mind right now. Not from Sullivan’s story but about herself, her life, unlife and what to do from now. If she didn’t get killed she might had to end it herself because she had no idea what to do and what to feel from now... |
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| Sullivan | Saturday, 1. June 2013, 23:05 Post #30 |
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Sullivan laughed and shook his head, a slight grin augumenting his otherwise sombre expression, "No - not quite, cub. I'm not tellin' ye all this just ta give ye nightmares or try an' tell ye you were always takin' the wrong side. This part o' the story is just the opener." Calmly, he shuffled over to Linda's corpse, and kicked the lifeless hunk of flesh, deciding whether he ought to get rid of it or leave the drained body there to rot away - God knew without much fluid left in it, it wouldn't take long. The Irishman continued speaking as he thought, pointing vaguely to a set of chains to Leslie's left, "Ye see the big thick ones with the hooks? They've been here longer'n the rest o' this place. The dungeon ain't new - just the make over. Durin' the last big push against the Anarchs by the Sabbat, I turned on Alasdair. I'd wanted to fer years, but a blood-bond... It's powerful stuff. I broke it in time, thankfully - but it cost me a great deal." Slowly, he paced over to his old chains, gripping one in his dead fingers, "I set the beast free. Middle o' the battle, back-to-back with Alasdair, an' I tore four claw-trenches down his face. The rest is a bloody haze - but I awoke here, wrapped up in these. Even when er a hated enemy, the Anarchs admire that rebellious streak in people. Means ye got heart. Means there's more to ye than just the monster ye get told ye are." Sullivan glanced at Leslie and folded his arms, letting the old chains free of his grip and waiting for them to finish swaying noisily, "They offered me a real unlife. One o' my own makin'. An' I'm here ta do the same. I still gotta convince Nora - but I'm fairly certain I can. Ye live by my rule, ye listen ta what I've learned and ye make yerself more than just another corpse with fangs... And maybe ye just might be made o' the kind o' stuff we Anarchs are built from. Yer other option, as ye rightly pointed out, is ta be thrown into the street with barely enough blood in ye ta keep from frenzy and five minutes before the Sword hounds circle round and take their bites." He locked his gaze with her and arched an eyebrow expectantly, "So what's it gonna be?" |
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| Leslie | Monday, 10. June 2013, 12:32 Post #31 |
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Flemish... furry... flirty... feline! (YODO) Perfection Purrs!
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Leslie listened carefully to his words. This was different. Sullivan seemed different. There was something in his words that she had yet to discover what he was trying to tell her or what he was trying to show her. His story was quite shocking and she was happy with the way her unlife had been up till now. When the Gangrel reached for the chains she gasped. She feared that he might use them on her to punish her some more but he didn’t. He continued talking, let the chains go and then came the missing piece of the puzzle, the real reason he was there: to save her! Wait! That couldn’t be right? Was he really planning on taking her into protection and saving her? He came closer to her and their eyes met. Her eyes widened and she was just blown away. The young one had no idea what to say to his suggestion or what to do. After some seconds or minutes she burst out laughing. Her playful, childish but warm laughter filled the cold room and it didn’t seem to fit the environment to be laughing like that. “Are you for real Sullivan?” She giggled. “I thought you were going to torture me some more but this is better! Like you really want to save me. There’s no one who wants me on their team and even if you mean it... which is a big IF because you guys just hate me. How are you going to convince Nora about this?” She scoffed “Don’t ruin what you have with Nora and the Anarchs to save me. Apparently I’m not worth saving Sullivan... not anymore. One day maybe but I’m not worth it anymore. Play time is over I’ve finally realised that now. Go away! Don’t give me false hopes and empty promises because I’ve had enough of those within the Sabbat! It’s not nice trying to trick me in whatever sick mind game you are playing. Just go AWAY!” There was fear and confusion visible. Why where they doing this? Why were they teasing her like this? Pretending like she still had a choice or that she could still be saved. “It’s over for me.” She whispered. He couldn’t be serious about this! It was just not possible that he would give her another change to survive! |
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| Sullivan | Monday, 10. June 2013, 13:55 Post #32 |
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The Irishman snarled, his callused knuckles cracking as he slowly coiled his hands into fists and lowered his eyebrow, clearly unhappy with Leslie's answer. He reached for his chair, pulling it closer so he could sit down and glaring up at Leslie, the hints of the violent man he kept supressed boiling his his concrete eyes. "I suggest ye think through what ye just said, lass." Shrugging his coat from his shoulders, he let it collapse backward over the chair's back and shoved his hands in his pockets. The maned vampire crossed one leg over the other casually and continued, though for all his casual posing his eyes remained poised on the brink of deadly, "Ye've just heard an offer - the only one ye've got - ta get ye outta this mess, and ta surround ye with the kind o' group your attitude belongs in. This offer has come from somebody who's endured more o' the Sabbat than you'll ever know fer certain, been let down by false hope an' promise at every turn, fought tooth an' nail fer every little good thing that ever happened. Not only have ye turned down that offer, condemning you to death even if ye eventually opt ta leave us... Ye've also decided ta openly laugh at this man directly after he's told ye that Vasili's work here was the work of an amateur." He let the information settle, watchign for the slightest hint of a reponse before intercepting it with his continuation, "What in Caine's name are ye thinking?" He rocketted upward from the chair at inhuman speeds, coat and furniture both cascading to the floor as his nose just barely ground against Leslie's, "Ye got two ways outta this room, Cub - in my custody or a body bag! Now let me make myself absolutely, fine-cut crystal clear - if ye leve in my care, any problems ye cause are on my head ta deal with! Any issues ye have with tha Baron are my issues ta deal with! Perhaps most importantly, any issues that other Anarchs have with ye... Are. My. Issues. To. Deal. With." Sullivan stepped away, scooping his coat from the ground and shaking it clean - sort of anyway - before pushign his arms through the sleeves. "I thought long an' hard about what I was offerin' you before I even set foot down here. I know what I'm gettin' into. Ye accept my offer, ye might still be in the doghouse with the others fer a while, but ye'll have the dog on yer side - an' I'm a fuckin' big dog. Ye choose not to accept... Well, ye know how long ye'll last. I know which option I'd pick." Sullivan began walking away, not even turning back as he left Leslie with a final comment, "The Sword has its' share o' friends - you could do with some. I expect an answer by tomorrow night." With that, he was gone, thrown aside torture devices and an up-ended chair the only signs he'd even been there. |
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| Leslie | Monday, 10. June 2013, 20:03 Post #33 |
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Flemish... furry... flirty... feline! (YODO) Perfection Purrs!
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The girl started to shiver with fear when she heard his knuckles crack and saw his fist. She had said the wrong thing. She knew she had been foolish from the moment she had opened her mouth but she hadn't been able to hold her comments back. Leslie didn't know what else she had to say. She was so surprised by his offer and thought he was joking that she just had to laugh. This night had been a real mental challenge. Sullivan's eyes peered deeply and dangerously at her. It shot a shiver through her like a thunderbolt. She swallowed and tried to escape his stare by looking down but feeling his eyes on her compelled her to look back at him. Her attitude? What attitude? Leslie frowned. She did not had an attitude... well maybe a little flirty and always wanting to get it done her way. She was used of getting what she wanted especially after living the loner life she had for the last few years. Meanwhile her body had been healing more and more but most damage was still visible. She had just healed enough to feel a bit more comfortable while hanging. Shame and sorrow fell upon her face as she realised she had just signed her death sentence with her own blood. The moment she wanted to speak Sullivan flew towards her and with incredible sudden speed he was almost pressed against her. She felt her body swing a little back and forth. Her eyes probably couldn't get any wider. Her lovely brown eyes were a little darker than usual because of the fear that was creeping beneath the surface. His words hit her like a hammer and she winced with every word he spoke at the end before he turned and grabbed his coat. She was numb with terror and was flabbergasted he was serious about it. Leslie wanted to scream but was still so frozen by what he had told her that by the time she was able to get her wits back Sullivan was already gone. She screamed his name long and loud. "Sullivan! No! Don't go. Please don't go! SULLIVAN!!" The young one screamed and cursed in Dutch. What had she done? He wanted to help! Sullivan was the first who had shown any sign of compassion or genuine help. The Gangrel wriggled and moved frantically in every direction trying to get free so she could get Sullivan back. There was no way she was going to let this chance slip now that she knew he was honest about this. She screamed for the Irish Gangrel hoping he would come back while blood started seeping out of the new wounds the ropes around her wrists had caused. After a while she became calm again because she realised he was gone. Her head hung low and she was so angry at herself. Silently she started sobbing... what had she done? Stupid girl! |
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3:54 PM Jul 11