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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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| The Wonderful World of Masquerade Society; Anarchs! + Jhael + Tzippy | |
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| Topic Started: Monday, 29. April 2013, 16:24 (2,138 Views) | |
| Dawid Prazmowski | Monday, 29. April 2013, 16:24 Post #1 |
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The Night Tripper was really the best place to introduce his newbie 'colleagues' to the Wonderful World of Masquerade Society [TM], Dawid thought. Anarchs were usually less abusive towards ghouls than most Kindred, and the place would be away from the prying eyes of the Camarilla and the murderous fangs of the Sabbat. At least, that's what some of his fellow vassals from Italy had told him. Choosing a Monday night for the visit was convenient too. Most mortals had done all their drinking and dancing during the weekend, and were either shaking off their hangovers as they worked boring jobs or consuming Lidl-bought alcohol on the cheap so the buzz would never go away. It'd leave the place free of nosy mortals and, thus, fertile grounds for frank conversation. The ghoul Jhael and the mortal retinue Moshe Klein had received instructions by SMS on how to get there, and would be arriving separately. This left Dawid to arrive first and check out the locals. "Greetings from London by Night, Sirs and Ladies" he announced upon entering the Anarch establishment, smiling at the bartender and any of the other clientèle "Though a first-timer to this fine establishment, I should like to announce my intention to get out of my rud and, if the company is merry, to get a tad corned on one of your better brews." He plopped onto the barstool and bent towards the person seated beside him, asking in confidence: "I take it the entire clientèle is Lavender?" Though Dawid's speech was still all anachronism, he had made an effort to go with the times. His pants had holes in them and were held over his slender hips with an iron-studded belt. The rest of his lanky figure was covered by a short-sleeved black novelty t-shirt with the text 'Feed Me' on it in a font of dripping blood, the whole framed by the gaping maw of a shark. "A beer, please. Whatever's local, though no Kriek lambic please. I'm not fond of common reds," he told the bartender. Edited by Dawid Prazmowski, Monday, 29. April 2013, 22:07.
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| Jhael | Monday, 29. April 2013, 17:57 Post #2 |
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Prince Blucher's Dinner (still not quite house trained)
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A pale blonde youth had stepped in not long after the eccentric Polish man made his entrance. A loose angora sweater sagged off his bare shoulder, revealing the top a black tank shirt. The splashes of dark maroon in the soft grey wool matched the shade of his faded, vintage leather pants and a thin application of liner and mascara darkened his lashes. Beneath his tossled bangs, his blue eyes were traveling along the length of the bar in search of someone. If it weren't for the loud, oddly mannered speech, he wouldn't have recognized him at all. Thank god. He had no idea what to expect, but he had some worries about meeting a man who was dressed in a top hat and a frilly shirt, or something else equally ridiculous. Arching a brow in pleasant surprise, he slid up on an empty stool beside Dawid and hooked the heel of his leather boot on the rung. While the other man bantered with another about lavenders, he flashed a brief smile and lifted his chin to the bartender to catch his attention. "Would like a double of Ciroc. Oh, if you don't have.. ah, Grey Goose, I suppose will do. No ice." |
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| Dawid Prazmowski | Monday, 29. April 2013, 18:31 Post #3 |
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"Jhael! Good man. Right on on the clock, too." There could be no doubt whatsoever that the first newcomer knew the second one. Even before Julian could slip out of his coat, Dawid was already waving for him to come over, patting that one empty chair. Once he was seated, Dawid's eyes roamed over the younger ghoul in an unduly frank manner, lingering for more than a little while on the vintage leather pants. "Dressed up perfectly for the night, too. Even without the benefits of my spiel on how a man may best conform to rebellious fashions." He smiled at his own joke, though did not laugh as he continued: "Quite the paradox, wouldn't you say?" |
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| Jhael | Monday, 29. April 2013, 19:15 Post #4 |
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Prince Blucher's Dinner (still not quite house trained)
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"Wasn't exactly going for rebellious." With an uneasy half smile, he leaned forward and flicked a stray bit of lint and torn straw wrapper away before drumming his fingernails on the counter surface. Fidgeting with a thin silver chain that adorned his wrist, he surveyed the unfamiliar establishment while the other man brazenly surveyed him. Jhael's pants were slim fit, but not tight to the point of being tasteless. Still, the way the other man looked at him was making him just a little self conscious about his choice of outfit. "Just figured this would be a casual-... ah, thank you." He gave the bartender a polite smile for his drink and put it to his nose to sniff. Without having a sip, he set the shotglass on the folded napkin and forced himself to look in Dawid's direction. "No flowers tonight. You must be dressing down too," he said as he lowered his eyes to read the shirt. |
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| Tzippy | Tuesday, 30. April 2013, 03:58 Post #5 |
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Moshe meanwhile, had slipped in and settled in an unoccupied corner of the bar while the other two were conversing, surveying the scene intently. He had set aside the reading glasses, taking away some of the age and gravity he tried so hard to convey. It seemed Moshe had attempted to tidy his hair but nervous fidgeting had left it mussed again, the half sleeved black shirt he wore slightly wrinkled. Patched blue jeans (a remnant from his teen years that he'd never quite had the heart to get rid of despite the fact they were a little too snug now) covered equally battered converses. All and all, Moshe seemed as untidy as ever, except now it was more in the vein of disaffected youth than absent minded teacher. The silver piercings helped with that more than anything. Moshe always wore at least one earring, but now several decorated his ears, a lip ring absently worried as he softly ordered a drink. He'd fallen out of the habit of wearing most of the jewelry after he got the teaching assistant job, but why not now? With that bit of reasoning and mental reassurance, he glanced to the rum bottle he'd ordered, pouring himself a drink and letting out a deep breath. |
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| Dawid Prazmowski | Tuesday, 30. April 2013, 23:44 Post #6 |
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If Dawid had seen the other man slip inside, he didn't show it. He seemed too caught up in conversation to notice much of what was going on around him. The careful observer would notice though that his eyes kept scanning the room, so that he might bolt in case there would be trouble. "Dressing down? Oh no. One might well argue that I 'dress up', as it were. In truth, I was born to a family of modest means and low social station. Tis entirely inappropriate to suggest that I might perceive myself to be above anything but a fieldhand's rags. Oh, I knew hunger long before I knew the Hunger." False modesty didn't suit Dawid all that well when he was experiencing a manic period. It was obvious that he enjoyed being a social climber, even if he'd had to sell his independence and his freedoms in the process. Being a Kindred's little dress-up doll was one of the little pleasures in an unnaturally long life of service. But such depressing thoughts were shunted to the back of his mind as he continued to babble at Jhael: "That I can now afford to afford good clothes at all is the consequence of my Mistress' generosity, as well as those intangible and abstract forces that Science has taught us dictate the behaviour of billions. Globalisation, advances in the processing of cloth and the industrialisation of the Chinese hinterland most particularly. Truly, we live in an age of material plenty. Only the secrets of death and the soul escape us now. And for how long, I ask you!" |
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| Nora Penvellyn | Wednesday, 1. May 2013, 04:15 Post #7 |
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Rebel With a Cause
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It was a quiet night, or at least it had been until these two peacocks had come strutting into her bar. While she normally kept to herself in the quiet expanse of her private booth, she'd dismissed Karl from door duty early in the evening and decided to bask in the open space of the barely occupied Tripper. It felt good being able to have some breathing room; the threatening storm of war that was brewing had resulted in bolstered security among the Anarch strongholds, and apparently armed babysitters came with the package. She understood Vinnie's reasoning for keeping her surrounded by his goons, but it was as much a burden as it was a potential blessing should anyone try to get cute and off her for good. So there Nora sat, at what used to be her usual table, her feet kicked up with a newspaper in one hand and a short glass of gin and junkie blood in the other. It felt like it'd been an eternity since she'd gotten to actually sit out here and enjoy the ambiance she came to know and love of this shit hole. The oak tabletop had seen it's fair share of frosty mugs and broken beer bottles, but there were even what looked to be smoothly sanded patches from her booted heels having rested there so many nights before something possessed her to take on the seat as Baron. So many games of cards had been played there, so many arguments had been had there. She couldn't even be sure if this was really even her table considering how many times she'd either flown across it with balled fists or simply flipped it over and then proceeded to beat the living hell out of whomever had the misfortune of sitting on the other side and setting off her touchy temper. So it seemed almost poetic justice that the one night she thought she wouldn't have to subject her beloved table to either, that three complete strangers decided to pay the her a visit. When Dawid had arrived, she'd looked up from the fine print she'd been reading with a quirked brow and regarded the man with little interest and just as soon looked back to the paper in her hand, though her ears stayed focused on him and his eccentric antics as he took a seat at the bar. What the fuck did being lavender even mean? Was London by Night some kind of looney bin she hadn't heard of? Julian's entrance was much quieter, but the chattering socialite made it well known. Her eyes flitted up a second time to regard the newcomer's sharp features and shock of blonde hair for a few moments before looking to the barkeep, who was acknowledging the two silently with a hardened, possibly annoyed expression. She couldn't ever be sure what the old man was thinking, as he never really spoke, but when Julian had asked for Ciroc, he looked in Nora's direction as if he knew she'd been watching the entire time. The only top-shelf liquor that was kept in the bar belonged to Nora's private selection, but as it were, she chose to indulge the stranger and simply nodded. The barkeep presented Dawid with a bottle of Meantime London Stout and Julian his preferred Ciroc, having retrieved it with careful precision from beneath the bar and just as discreetly returned it to it's rightful place, out of sight and out of mind of any other finely tuned vodka drinker that could wander in. Nora watched them silently, as was another newcomer who inhabited an empty booth only a few feet away from her. She smiled to him rather sweetly when he'd first sat down, and looked over once again after the barkeep had deposited an entire bottle of rum and an empty glass on the table and walked away. Damn, he meant business. Nora glanced to the only other occupied table in the bar, where Marcus and his creeps for friends lounged with their tails tucked between their legs. The last time they'd preyed on outsiders, two of them got their asses kicked by a mortal and the other got thrown down into the Box for the Bear's entertainment. They seemed to have been waiting for her to make a move for quite some time. Nora scoffed at them in distaste, "Didn't your mothers ever teach you not to stare? Goddamn." She tossed the paper on the table and got to her feet, smoothing the faint wrinkles out of the faded black Siouxsie and the Banshees t-shirt that clung to her torso and downed the last of her drink. A shiver of delight ran down her spine as she sauntered towards the bar, clad in worn and torn skinny jeans and pair of combat boots that'd definitely been with her to more then a few places. Her long inky tresses were pulled back into a ponytail, her bangs pinned up and out of her face, making her icy blue eyes and their freaky slit pupils all the more chilling. The patches of reptilian scales that were splattered across the inside of her wrists were in plain sight, but blended in rather creatively with the sleeves of her tattooed arms. Setting her empty glass on the beaten wood surface of the bar, she climbed up on the stool beside Julian. "Don't mind me, dearest." She said to the barkeep with a warm smile as she leaned over and grabbed the bottle of gin she'd been working on this evening. He simply regarded her with a disinterested look and stood back as he went about towel drying glasses and mugs. Having gotten what she wanted, she grabbed the hip flask she kept tucked in her back pocket and poured a healthy shot of cocaine-laced vitae into the glass and swirled it around in the glass before taking a sip and finally speaking to Dawid, "Not very long at all if you keep that shit up," She turned her head to look at them, smiling with a playful demeanor that revealed elongated incisors similar to those of a large dog. "Something tells me you two are used to drinking in finer establishments," Her gaze shifted to Julian's handsomely angular face, "Enjoying my private collection, I hope?" She smirked before looking ahead of her and sighing, "Death has much more hype surrounding it then it really deserves. It hurts like hell and the mess is ungodly. Beyond that? I hope you don't believe in a higher being swooping you off to Neverland, otherwise you'll be sorely disappointed." She giggled and turned to peer at them again, "So, what brings two colorful birds from the bleeding heart of the city way the fuck up here, anyways? I'm Nora, by the way. And you are...?" The same friendly grin painted her lips as she gazed at them expectantly. |
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| Jhael | Wednesday, 1. May 2013, 21:37 Post #8 |
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Prince Blucher's Dinner (still not quite house trained)
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By the end of Dawid's monologue, he had downed the contents of his shot glass. One swallow at the mention of field hand's rags and another at the industrialization of the Chinese hinterlands. The other man's verbosity seemed to be having it's way with his Will to be Sober. With every bewildering phrase, his usual caution was worn to the point where his hand was already raised to beckon the bartender for another when the woman who had introduced herself as Nora sat beside him. "Jhael. Pleased to meet you, Nora." Thankfully, politeness auto-pilot had kicked in to rescue him from a wordless fluster. His eyes, which were slightly watery from the double shot, had grown a bit wide at the sight of the teeth. With a clearing of the throat, he shook his head and forced himself to stop staring at her mouth. Eyes, look at eyes, you idiot! Snake eyes. Great. The young man swallowed and tried to ignore his own unease. "I suppose it's pretty obvious that I'm not from here," he continued in his northern American accent. "I was invited by my, umm..." With a shy little smile, he snapped his fingers a few times towards Dawid while he tried to figure out how the hell to describe his relation to that man. Friend? Guy I know from work? Date!? "... by him!" he settled on while his gaze slid down from the unsettling eyes to admire the tattoo. He blinked at the sight of the scales and drew in a breath. Ok. Calm the fuck down. It's not much different than those extreme body modification galleries on the internet that you've seen dozens of times. Clinging to this lie and thanking the vodka in his stomach, he chuckled again and shook his head. "I also have no idea what he's talking about. I think he's Polish." |
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| Dawid Prazmowski | Wednesday, 1. May 2013, 23:28 Post #9 |
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"I am Polish. And I am Dawid. How do you do?", Dawid affirmed while placing a single hand firmly on Julian's shoulder and giving it a squeeze. He didn't clarify if the was meant to reassure the younger ghoul or to cast doubts on the nature of their relationship. "If you are looking for the individual who first thought it a good idea to disturb the tranquillity of this fine establishment, then you have found culprit. It is I," he confessed. "The Tripper was recommended to me by an Italian friend and fellow servitor, one Delizia Palone-Giovanni. Her Master's court passed through London during the 1990s, and she made merry with the local Anarch community whenever her services were not required. I thought to honour her fond memories by paying a visit myself and bringing along some company, intending only to add to the merriment that might be had." "As to the subject of death, I confess that it is something of a preoccupation of mine. While unblemished in the sense of not having experienced the transition to another state, excepting birth, of course, I have found that death is not a binary state. The linguistic opposite of death is, I suppose, un-death. But also life, which itself is often poorly defined. Do spirits 'live'? Do ancient slumberers who were buried long before the floods 'live'? Do impertinent ghouls who have, in all likelihood, held the floor for far too long already?" He smiled sheepishly. "These are just some of the questions that preoccupy this particular mind." He tapped his fingers against his skull, then cast down his eyes. "Of course, I mean not to urge you to hasten my demise. T'has long been untimely, though not perhaps too early. However you might deign to define my current state of existence, I am most attached to it, and present myself merely as a humble visitor and proclaim my peaceful intent." OOC @ Nora
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| Ashley Amber | Friday, 3. May 2013, 12:21 Post #10 |
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Belonging to Miss Catherine!
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Great! Just fucking great! Ashley got lost again. Why was London so complicated? This time however she did have a regular map with her as she didn’t seem to trust the GPS on her phone anymore after the last time it went down. The girl suddenly noticed some sort of pub. The name rang a bell but she wasn’t sure why. Dressed in black high heel shoes, a low cut light blue jeans, a black silken halter top that didn’t cover a large piece of her back and her usual snow white woollen coat. Ashley had been shopping around here and there. She carried a few bags of well known brands. The girl entered the pub and went straight to the bar. She didn’t even look around because she just wanted directions. Once at the bar she did notice a guy not far away from her with some earrings and a bottle of rum in front of him. It took a while before the bartender came to her and so she had the time to look around. She noticed a few vampires and there was a smell she knew all too well floating around the pub. Some faces of the humans seemed drugged and she found herself feeling annoyed by the slight temptation of her old habit. The girl shook her head and then her eyes fell upon a young man, very pale, sort of cute but human and yet so pale. The boy was sitting with an obnoxious loud young man. They were soon joined by obviously Kindred, a woman and... Ashley narrowed her eyes as she suddenly saw tiny indications of animal features. Gangrel? Nora? Tripper? Things started to add up. Anarchs! Well at least she wasn’t on Sabbat ground. Anarchs were all right. The bartender finally decided to come over to Ashley. She grabbed the little book with a plan of London in and smiled. She placed her bags on the ground between her feet and the two stools she was standing between. “I’m so sorry sir but I got lost and would love to know where I am at the moment. Could you help me out?” She gave him the map and took off her coat. It was warm inside and she could use a drink after running around for a few hours trying to find her way home. The girl hopped onto a stool next to Moshe and sat with her bare back towards the rest of the pub. “And I would also love a nice Scotch, please.” She smiled sweetly at the bartender when he handed her what she had ordered. She took a sip and to be honest it wasn’t great but it wasn’t bad either. It was good enough to enjoy. Then the bartender pointed at where she was and gave her back the map. “Wow, not very talkative. Great for business.” She whispered very softly to herself while she rolled her eyes and put the map away after glancing at it. Now that she knew where she was it took a bit of the tension away. Meanwhile she listened to the conversation between the boy called Jhael who seemed very nervous, the Polish guy Dawid who seemed too confident for his own good and the Gangrel Nora. If Ashley remembered correctly she was the Baroness of the Anarchs and doubt started to grow in her mind seeing as she was Archon his PA shouldn’t she formally introduce herself to the leader of the Anarchs? But then again she was here as Ashley and not for business. The worry was probably visible on her face while she dreamingly took a few sips from her drink. |
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| Nora Penvellyn | Friday, 3. May 2013, 23:39 Post #11 |
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Rebel With a Cause
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"Peachy keen, thanks. It's...interesting to meet you both." Nora nodded to them before taking a drink of bloody gin. This Jhael character seemed a little uneasy as she watched his eyes travel from her mouth to make eye contact, and then just as soon look down to the mark on her wrist. She breathed in their scents collectively; the didn't smell dead...they didn't sound dead. She strained her ears, listening for the subtle drumming of heart beats, and finding them fairly easy amongst the idle bar chatter that surrounded them like white noise in the background. Ghouls? They had to be. "Have you never met a Gangrel before?" She asked him honestly, looking to the Barkeep who was hovering with a stoic gaze settled on yet another newcomer. She was a pretty little thing, and lost at that. Nora smiled to the old man behind the bar, "We haven't seen this many new faces around here since the sacrifice, have we?" She giggled, her twisted sense of humor coming into play. Burning an inkling of blood, she easily donned a subtle mask before turning back to face Jhael and Dawid. Her marks had seemingly been erased, with normal peepers and a heart breaking smile bereft of over-sized incisors to match. Nothing could be seen but creamy, pale flesh. "There, I forget my manners sometimes. I'm so used to being surrounded by a lot of brutes and mutts. So, 'humble visitors' are always a welcome change of pace. I don't know of this... Necromancer that you speak of. I honestly have never gotten the pleasure of meeting a Giovanni myself, although I'd like to someday. I hear they're quite the company to keep. Is she your master?" Polishing off the last of her drink, she called for another, repeating the process of mixing vitae with dry booze as she looked to Dawid, "You sound rather... well spoken for this day and age. Pray tell, how long have you two been with your masters?" |
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| Dawid Prazmowski | Saturday, 4. May 2013, 00:51 Post #12 |
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Dawid knew better than to ask about 'the sacrifice'. If it was a joke he'd look the fool. If it was not, the story that might be told would surely be too grim for his young charges to overhear. The Gangrel's polite interrogation seemed friendly enough, though, and so he obliged by telling her the truth, enhanced by plenty of excited hand gestures, dramatic sighs and melancholy smiles. "Delizia is a fellow servitor. Though being 'of the family', as it were, her scope for advancement is considerable as compared to mine own. Alas, tis not for me to complain about differences in social station. Certainly not when she did me a kindness by pointing out the nature of this charming establishment" He held up his hand to indicate that he was not quite done talking while he filled a cleanish glass that had been put in front of him, delicately pouring black beer from his bottle of Meantime London Stout. The fact that the tip of his tongue was sticking out from the corner of his lips suggested utmost concentration on the task: producing a layer of white foam that was measured as exactly two fingers deep. When he clasped his pale, almost bony hand around the drink, he could see for himself that he'd gotten it just right. Thus quite pleased with himself, he continued to provide answers: "Speaking entirely for myself, I have been in the service of my Mistress for just over a century. I've even dabbled in the forbidden arts myself, though admittedly my efforts are more inspired by the milieu of the late esoteric movement than anything that might require a witches' cauldron or a book of spells. I should even be able to perform a tawdry seance, if dire circumstances would require such." He smiled faintly. At times, the rituals he'd indulged in involved elements that would repulse most people. Even Kindred. But there was no need to spoil a good conversation by elaborating on the less pleasant elements of the truth. Certainly not when he could paint a picture of tittering ladies of good breeding and their fanciful indulgence in eastern mysticism as a way of passing time. |
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| Tzippy | Saturday, 4. May 2013, 01:26 Post #13 |
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Pale eyes swung sharply between the two female newcomers, Moshe's face becoming even darker with a bit of a blush as first one smiled at him and then the other settled at the chair next to him. He had never been quite sure what to do with the opposite sex and his few liaisons and conversations had a rather disheartening tendency to blow up spectacularly. Even simple greetings on his part had gone awry on several memorable occasions. The new factors were not helping his fraying nerves in the slightest. When he was younger, he hadn't much cared, but he was older and (presumably) wiser now, and on unfamiliar ground, which added to his unease. Female students and colleagues were easy enough. Just talk about academic matters they had in common. But in a bar setting? He hadn't had the time to put together a procedure for this particular situation. So, Moshe cut off the need for an immediate polite greeting by refilling his glass with the spiced rum, eying the bottle as he silently calculated just how much he could drink without getting stupid but still relax. He probably seemed rather strange, the small man leaning slightly away from Ashley as he stared at the rum bottle as though it had offended him personally, slender fingers absently playing with the silver pendant hung around his neck. Well, there was nothing for it. He was not going to be the awkward creeper hanging out in the corner. Again. He'd drink enough so as to make the affair tolerable and he would socialize like a normal person, by God. Besides, he couldn't do much worse than the Polish chatterbox and the American brat. Moshe let out a deep breath and addressed Ashley with a voice that probably seemed at odds with the man himself, a bit deep, with traces of a smoker's rasp, his accent adding a bit of lyrical nuance to offset the harshness. "Sorry, you said you were lost?" |
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| Jhael | Saturday, 4. May 2013, 14:55 Post #14 |
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Prince Blucher's Dinner (still not quite house trained)
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The woman's smile was lovely, but it did little to calm his nerves even if he no longer saw the fangs or any other sign of abnormality. No, this is far worse. Either LSD had been slipped in his drink and he was experiencing a hallucination or beings like this could be anywhere. All this time, all around him and he would have been just an ignorant little mouse if it were not for Mr. Blucher burrowing into his... mouse hole. After downing a second drink, he shoved his fists under the table to hide the fact that he was digging his nails into his palms, which had become quite damp with sweat the more he listened and thought about the situation. Anyone could be one of them. Gods, what else had been hiding in the dark all this time? Dawid was still talking. Julian took measured breaths and focused on the self-inflicted pain cutting the heel of his palm in attempt to hold on to his slipping composure. Do not panic in front of anyone. Mr. Blucher would not be pleased. Please, do not panic. Besides, haven't you dreamed of such things? "Excuse me. Did you say Gangrel? Giovanni? Are these family names?" His voice had raised a pitch and become a bit breathy, but he managed another tiny smile in spite of his nerves. "I'm sorry, it feels like I've stepped into Midian somehow. The past few weeks have been, umm... different." A light flush blossomed on his cheeks after he spoke. The bartender was near. Good. "Right, yes. Ah.. think I need some water. Ice. Please. Thank you." |
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| Ashley Amber | Saturday, 4. May 2013, 19:59 Post #15 |
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Belonging to Miss Catherine!
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After a while she came back out of her reverie. Her light green gaze fell upon the man next to her. He looked quite handsome and even with the piercings he had something charming. Her gaze followed the edges of his face and landed upon his fingers that were playing with the pendant on his neck. After some seconds she looked away because she didn't want to be rude. Ashley focused her attention back to the conversation between the two ghouls and Nora. Meanwhile the guy next to hear had decided to talk to Ashley. She turned her head and smiled while she nodded. "Yes." she sighed and shrugged. "Second time already. It seems to become an annoying habit." she chuckled but didn't seem to like it as much as she presumed it to be. Though she had focused her attention towards Moshe she was still listening to the three people further away. She took another sip but when she heard Jhael ask whether Gangrel and Giovanni were family names she bursted out laughing and almost choked in her drink. The girl coughed and tried to compose herself. It took a while before she was able to put on a straight face and look perfectly sweet again. The pale young man had doubt in his voice. He was obviously new to all of this. She knew how strange and frustrating it could be to try and understand the vampiric world. With a shameful blush she stared the man next to her in the eyes. "I'm sorry but something funny came to mind." A playful grin was upon her lips. "I'm Ashley Amber and you are?" |
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| NPC | Sunday, 5. May 2013, 14:17 Post #16 |
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The Game Master
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The doors of the Night Tripper triumphantly blasted open revealing a kindred soaked by rain, sweat and blood. The Gangrel swiftly eyed the room through his exertion and hoped in a way that he had not drawn too much attention to himself but his time was running extremely short and he needed someone now before it was too late. Through knots of tangled coarse hair he spotted a group at the corner of the bar joined by none other than the Anarch Baron. With his pistol dropped to his side he dashed across the pub whilst pressing his one hand to his wounded shoulder. There were more than he had hoped for but it needed to be out, someone needed to know. “Quickly there isn’t time for introductions-” Spluttering through wide haunted eyes the Kindred addressed the small group. A few mortals and one Kindred, it wasn’t the ideal situation but the will of kine had proved to be quite amazing. “I am going to be dead soon, they’re coming – the one with the southern drawl, he... he knows and he’s coming here for me. I need...” He sounded crazy as he rifled through his coat pockets to produce torn and rain drenched hand written pages. “There is a secret that they don’t want anyone to know, we found it” Panic, he couldn’t control himself as he scrambled through the pages. “They’re dead apart from me and another – I’m sure he’s safe but I’m nearly gone and there is nothing you could possibly do to stop it.” A car had pulled up outside the bar with its headlights beaming through the windows. “Oh fuck” The Gangrel turned and the panic increased. “He’s fucking here, they’re all here... I...” “He lives... he is here and they want no one to know. Something terrible is going to happen unless you can stop it. Something beyond our dreams, this city will burn... someone needs to know.” The car door shut and footsteps could be heard outside. “Here” He pushed a blood soaked piece of paper onto the bar. “His name is Jeff Morgan; he lives at 52 Windsor Way in Ealing, the residential quarter. He can tell you more but if someone catches his location or name its all over and....they... I have to go now before he sees you all with me” The kindred scrambled the other pieces of paper back into his pockets and eyed them all one final time. “I hope you can succeed where I failed... our time is running out” The doors opened once again and a tall kindred made his way slowly through the crowd, his dirty blonde hair swept back under his trilby and his black suit complimented by his floral pink tie. He slowly eyed everyone at the bar before turning his attention to the blood soaked Gangrel. “Pardon the interruption y’all.” He watched the Gangrel as he made his way defeated towards the door. “I hope our good friend Jacob here hasn’t been talking all sorts of crazy horseshit again” He giggled sinisterly before coughing into his hand. “Ah it’s been a long old night. Well anyways you just leave Jacob here to his good buddy Calvin, he’s had a bit too much of the sauce and I need to get him home” The creature tipped his trilby to the small group at the bar and made a note of their faces. “Y’all have a nice evening now.” His hand moved swiftly the back of the injured Gangrel taking him away without a fight. |
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| Dawid Prazmowski | Sunday, 5. May 2013, 16:16 Post #17 |
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Ancilla
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"Ahh, Jhael. A mere nod from a lord is still a breakfast for a three-sip fool such as you. Yet still, I think it high time that you should acquaint yourself with the vocabulary of the damned. Your good fortune has this on offer tonight, along with the unique perspective on the truth that the denizens of the North might add. If Nora here would magnanimously choose to indulge you, that is... a lady...." Dawid turned his head to inquire something of the Baron, but then the doors blasted open and he fell abruptly silent. He'd made it a rule not to mess in the affairs of other Kindred, and when one was bleeding and facing Final Death, it made all the more sense to keep silent. He bowed his head and looked none in the eye, remaining still so as to avoid drawing any attention. Only when the southerner and the injured Kindred had left did he turn to Jhael, speaking quietly while touching his back with a single hand to convey urgency: "When apostles of murder speak their doom, tis time for the likes of us to part, lest we should desire to be in for a bad thing. Trust me, I've been there before." Edited by Dawid Prazmowski, Sunday, 5. May 2013, 16:33.
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| Nora Penvellyn | Sunday, 5. May 2013, 18:44 Post #18 |
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Rebel With a Cause
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"That's one way of looking at it," Nora cocked her head to the side in thought and let Dawid speak as she looked at Jhael's rather delicate features. He must have been new to all this; she could only imagine how much he was trying to swallow all at once, listening to her and the Polishman's conversation in rather plain English. The Masquerade wasn't something to be bothered with here, and for good reason. While Nora enforced it in the public, this shit hole of a bar was far from what she'd consider 'public' as far as the Anarchs were concerned. The doors would always be open, but no one in their right mind normally just waltzed in as this lot had without previous knowledge of who'd they find waiting for them on the other side. "Families, clans, same difference, really. Bottom line is that we all have the same blo--" The commotion at the door snatched her attention from their topic of conversation almost instantaneously; the smell of blood, dirt, and fresh rain overwhelmed her senses and sent her Beast into anxious tailspin. Nora's eyes focused on the wildly skittish creature that was barreling through the bar, spouting off shit about meeting his death soon and someone coming for him. Alarm was evident in her eyes as she looked between the unsuspected blood brother and the Barkeep. His weathered features remained impassive and unmoved, but there was something in his gaze she hadn't seen in a long time... was it really concern? Who was this man, and further more, who was after him? Nora shifted in her seat to look at this man fully, her expression shifting from hostility to worry and confusion as she listened to him trip on his own words and shakily rummage through his coat pockets. She wanted to ask questions, but he was in the mother of all rushes and it seemed every question that she could think of asking had no time to really be answered. The car pulling up outside was testament to this madman's heeding warning. He slapped a bloodied piece of paper with a name and address scrawled on it, and Nora hesitated to take it. She looked between it and the Barkeep once more, as if hoping he'd help her make sense of all of this. He simply nodded towards it. She finally took it, folding it quickly but carefully and turning away from the doorway to tuck it into her bra and out of sight of whomever was coming for this disheveled mess of a man. "I hope you can succeed where I failed... our time is running out." Nora swallowed the venom that was beginning to flood her mouth and nodded silently. Feeling threatened never boded well with her Beast, but as the Southern gentleman strolled in, she damn near came unglued. It took everything in her being to keep control of the pacing animal that was demanding to take control of the situation and rip apart the next person that walked through that goddamn door with her bare claws. She finished her drink in three gulps and slammed the empty glass down on the bar with some force before turning to this man with his ridiculously American dialect, her irritation quite evident, "No worries, mate," She slapped on a convincing smile, "That's a shame to hear, but at least he's got good friends to look after him." She wasn't a stranger to foul play or shady dealings. This whole situation had 'What the FUCK?!' written all over it, but she'd wait to express her overwhelming frustration and confusion after they were long gone. She waved as they bid their part, "Take care!" Watching the two's figures outside the window duck their heads into the car and just as quickly leave. She took a deep breath, finally looking to the barkeep, and then to Dawid, who was actually suggesting that they leave, "Ha, I don't fuckin' think so." She slid off the bar stool and made her way to the door with purposeful strides, "Kill the lights outside. I'm done with this bullshit. No one else comes in or out unless I say so." That being said, the barkeep meandered out from behind the bar and disappeared into the back. It got ridiculously dark outside in a matter of seconds as Nora locked and barred the door. She finally turned around, leaning against the sturdy wood and trying to sort her thoughts, "What the fuck...what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck?!" It was obvious this was all as puzzling and alarming for her as it was everyone else in this bar. She looked around; Marcus and his crew must have slipped out before the going got tough...fuckin' pussies. She was the only Kindred to speak of and was now responsible for five mortals. Taking a deep breath and collecting herself, she finally pushed off the door and made her way back to the bar, "I don't know what the fuck that was, but what happens here stays here, am I completely understood?" She waited for some kind of confirmation from the other occupants of the room as she pulled out her phone and quickly swiped through her contacts; who did you call when shit like this happened? It sure as hell wasn't the Ghostbusters. Should she drag Sullivan into this? Probably, if not for these people's sake if she wound up losing her shit. Should she notify the Prince? She hesitated on that thought... The less dead people involved, the better...but at the same time, she had no idea what she could dealing with. "I hope none of you had important plans. We're gonna be here awhile. If you need to make arrangements, do so discreetly. I don't want anything you heard or saw spoken of until absolutely necessary. Crazy talk or not, I don't fuck around with prophecies of death and destruction." |
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| Dawid Prazmowski | Sunday, 5. May 2013, 19:19 Post #19 |
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Ancilla
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Dawid didn't like the idea of being locked in with a Gangrel near to frenzy. The entire situation tugged at his heartstrings in that exaggerated way that his Mistress' stronger blood compelled. It was as if a flick had been switched, his boldness and foppish bravado turning into a deep depression. He avoided the note with his eyes and eventually turned his back to it, wanting to avoid giving even the impression that he'd seen it. Instead, he glanced at Moshe and Julian with pity in his eyes. I got those two into this. And I got myself in trouble again. I was such a fool. Such a damned bloody fool for ever going here. Now I am the captive of another Kindred. Another sect. On the wrong side of the channel. No doubt about to be interrogated about something I know nothing about. He lowered his eyes and bent his head as spoke to Nora, attempting to regain something of his earlier confidence. "You can rely on my discretion, m'lady. A true gentleman only lies to a woman if it involves surprising her, and I must confess that I intended no surprises tonight," he pleaded, trying to appear more calm than he actually was. The cracking of his voice betrayed his true mood, however, as he indicated his two companions with a minimalistic hand-gesture. "I shall even go so far as to vouch for the two younger ones that came in here at my urging. I may not know them well, but I am convinced that they may be swayed to keep your confidence." When that didn't seem to immediately impress he swallowed visibly, casting his grey eyes even further down and hunching his shoulders while he went into a servile position. The ghoul kept his back bent, and might have gone into a full kowtow if it wasn't for the fact that Nora was a Western Kindred. When he addressed the Baron again, it seemed as if he'd just been thoroughly chastised, a well-trained slave who was making a poor attempt of hiding his fear: "This one would humbly suggest that the sooner we are parted, the less we may come to know." |
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| Jhael | Monday, 6. May 2013, 17:33 Post #20 |
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Prince Blucher's Dinner (still not quite house trained)
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J: nightripper with mr.praz., locked in by one like you..nora, someone came in and distrbed her, there is troublle and i dontknow whats He hit enter to cut off the message to Alarik when Nora stalked back into the room and demanded secrecy. Acceding with a wordless nod, he stuffed his phone back in his pocket. Though she had seemed friendly in spite of the initial fright of her appearance, the entire mood of the evening had turned upside down with the sudden entrance of that raving bum off the street and the strange man who sounded like he was straight from Alabama. He did NOT like the idea of being kept in here, but it didn't seem wise to argue just yet. While Dawid took to beseeching the Gangrel to let them go, Julian was scanning every cranny and corner of the bar within his sight for anything that could be used as a weapon... just in case. He had only just began to calm before those bar doors flew open and now his blue eyes were wide like a cornered animal and his heart raced again. After his napkin was shred to uselessness by his sweat soaked fingers, he slipped his hand behind the other man to clutch at the back hem of his t-shirt. "I take it this is not a typical occurrence?" he leaned over to say in a tight whisper in Dawid's ear. While he continued to peer about the bar and control his breath to calm himself, one of the other men in the bar caught his eye. "Mr. Klein!?" He blinked, uncertain at first. |
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3:54 PM Jul 11