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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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| They were kids that I once knew; Anarchs | |
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| Topic Started: Wednesday, 10. July 2013, 05:21 (2,678 Views) | |
| Cadence Marcus Maddox | Wednesday, 10. July 2013, 05:21 Post #1 |
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Ye of Little Faith
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The night was young as of yet; the sun had only gone down about an hour ago, leaving Cadence with the freedom to do whatever he wanted into the wee hours of the morning. He had finally overcome his jet lag and was able to sleep through the day with his two cats curled up on his chest and between his legs, but it was really nice to finally get out of the house. He had spent an hour or two tacking up his national geographic posters and pulling books out of a box, laying them in alphabetical order by author along the book shelf he'd gotten at a consignment shop, but that was the extent of his unpacking, and now he wanted to stretch his legs. He figured that since he was out, he would make himself known in the area; his plan was to visit the Night Tripper and introduce himself to the Baroness, who he had heard was also of Gangrel descent. His apartment in Brent was not far away from the destination he had mapped out on his phone, costing him maybe an hour of his time to walk there, possibly two if he got lost. Then again, now that he was kindred, time was something that he had plenty of; a walk wouldn't impact him, wouldn't make him age or wrinkle. While being surrounded by concrete, brick, and metal wasn't his favorite choice of scenery, he could deal with it while he was in London, for the short time that he hoped he would be. Even on the flight to the UK, he had started to miss Colorado and his family in the wilderness. He had even had to shave his beard, the beard he had been working on for a good four years, before he could leave. His troupe would not let him leave the San Juan mountain range to see the sights without cleaning up, regardless of how much halfhearted arguing he did with them about it. So, he wandered the streets now with a prominent five o'clock shadow, wearing his favorite moss green thermal (which matched the green specks in his eyes), his best pair of jeans, and a brand new pair of classic Chuck Taylors laced tightly to his feet. Everything he wore fit his frame loosely, like he'd lost half of his weight since shopping last; to some, he may have looked sloppy, but this was his 'casual Friday'. Playing on his lips was the preparation for a friendly grin, something that never left his features should he need it on short notice. He had taken a shower before leaving the house, taking care to scrub his face clean of dirt for when he met the Baron. He didn't want to make a bad impression by coming into her kingdom unwashed. After an hour and a half exactly of walking through the concrete jungle, Cadence was walking through the doors of the Night Tripper and seating himself on a bar stool. The kindred of the San Juans mixed their own liquor, a moon shine of sorts, but while he was in the city he would not be able to enjoy such things as he had back home. More and more his body ached with home sickness, though his positive forward thinking kept him from fully realizing it. He waited for the barkeep to finish cleaning glasses, a few minutes at the most, before bothering the stern man with his order. He hated to take a person away from their work. Once the bartender stepped over to help him, the pale man ran a hand through his messy hair as he said in a polite tone, voice relaxed and pleasant, "If you don't mind, sir, I would love a rum and coke." Once Cadence received his glass, the fizzling contents of which tasted more heavily of rum than coke (the sign of a good bar tender, in his opinion), he took a wayward glance around the establishment. He knew the owner, the Baron, was female, but he had no idea what specifically to look for. Edited by Cadence Marcus Maddox, Wednesday, 10. July 2013, 05:37.
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| Iscariot | Wednesday, 10. July 2013, 06:36 Post #2 |
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Childe
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The crimson tinted amber liquid in his glass did little to quiet William. He was brooding. After his flight from Sloane's apartment he walked aimlessly, thoughts jumbled. His usual intent after finding a muse would be to go straight home and sit in front of his trusted typewriter for hours, hammering out all the images that flowed like silk. Instead, there were splintered story lines, interwoven with the truth that was simply her. And though William rarely drank, he found his way to the bar called the Night Tripper. He had heard that it was a "meeting place" of sorts for the Anarchs of London. He sat at the Bar, feet propped up on the lower rung of the stool, elbows planted firmly on the dusty surface before him and sipped. William eyed the barman, contemplating if a request for pen and paper would be ignored. He didn't look like the type to be charmed.. seen far too much in a place like this.. He opened his mouth to ask and quickly shut it as someone walked through the door and made their way to the bar. Oh, distraction, thou art a kind mistress. The man looked a bit out of place, scruffy and loose fitted. As per his usual past time, Will started to fit him into a story. Wilderness.. exploration. Some ridiculous raccoon tailed hat. Once realizing he was among, yet again, another Yankee in this wonderful land of limes, he figured he might as well be polite and introduce himself. What's life without adventure, right? After the man ordered his drink and glanced around the bar, William gave him a courteous, but non-committal, nod. "Evening, my fellow Statesman." |
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| Espen Schroeder | Wednesday, 10. July 2013, 16:09 Post #3 |
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Blue Blood Rebel
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Espen frowned down at the screen of the tablet in front of her. Seriously? You want to steal from me? Guess I'll just call in a favor then. Teach you why you don't embezzle from me. She gave a satisfied upturn of her lips as she sent an email to an old contact who owed her some hefty debts. She got a quick reply a few minutes later: It'll be handled for 20,000 off my account. DONE. She sipped her drink slowly and stood up after a few minutes savoring the flavor. She moved to the bar and straightened her jacket as she gestured for the bartender's attention. He moved over to her and raised a questioning brow. The blonde raised her voice so that all of the Tripper to hear, "I'm feeling generous tonight so put everyone's next round on me." She looked over and nodded at the charming young men at the bar. The scruffy looking one...he looks sweet, and not nearly as cryptic as Mr. Westington. Beth would probably like him...then again Beth likes everyone she meets. Maybe he's an artist? The other one seemed less of the starving artist type. He looked charming and well educated. Very handsome, she supposed. She gave an internal sigh of defeat and took another sip of her drink. Since when do I spend my nights scoping pretty men? |
![]() "If the day ever comes when you're tempted to sell me out, remember this: Whatever their price, I'll beat it. I like living." -- Tyrion Lannister Espen: #6699CC - Beth: #CC0099 | |
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| Cadence Marcus Maddox | Thursday, 11. July 2013, 00:45 Post #4 |
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Ye of Little Faith
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The glimpse taken around the bar had revealed to Cadence exactly two things; one, that there were more people of the 'dead' variety than he was accustomed to being around (his pack having only been made of six people), and two, that almost all of them seemed like they were unhappy about one thing or another. It was like the night was already winding down for them when in reality it could not have passed midnight yet. As his eyes came back around to witness a nod in his direction coupled with acknowledgement of a homeland shared, the Gangrel was proven right there that be had been wrong about his second assumption. He may have just been hailed by the only other person in the bar who wasn't sitting under a dark rain cloud. The man before him was perhaps old fashioned, with an air of eccentricity about him; for some reason, the likeness that came to mind was Jack Keruac, though he couldn't place a finger on why since they looked absolutely nothing alike. In any case, he liked Jack Keruac, and the fellow who sat only a couple bar stools away seemed agreeable if nothing else. Cadence flashed a polite smile, replying to the man in a good-natured tone, "It's funny that I should run into another from America so soon after moving here, considering that we should be a rare commodity in this country." He chuckled, then continued, "I'm Cadence, Cadence Maddox, from Colorado. Where are you from and how in the hell did you end up here?" His jovial introduction was accompanied by the appearance of a hand meant for the other to shake. As he did this, a sharp looking blonde woman with a decisive sort of walk made her way up to the bar, announcing that the next round for the entirety of the bar was on her. This, of course, was met with positive replies from patrons. Not only was she pretty, but also seemingly pretty well off too. She must have been given a raise or promotion and had come to celebrate, or something of that nature. The Gangrel was still geared with the friendly smile which graced his features (especially in the presence of strangers) as he offered his gratitude, saying, "That's very generous of you. What's the occasion?" Every word was presented both a genuinely curious and urbane manner. "You must have had some very good fortune to treat strangers such as ourselves to a free drink." |
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| Espen Schroeder | Thursday, 11. July 2013, 02:37 Post #5 |
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Blue Blood Rebel
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Espen gave a low huff of laughter at the scruffy man's question and sipped from her glass of pre-mixed drink. How to answer? How to answer? She chuckled and pulled her leather bound business journal from her jacket pocket readied her pen in her left hand as she flipped through the pages looking for two things. Employees. She moved down the list and tapped her pen against the paper and then drew it across the page with a satisfied expression, "Someone was stealing from me." She said nonchalantly and glanced up to meet his bluish-green eyes. Her amusement was probably a tad bit alarming to others, but as she flipped pages to the next section she continued and wrote under a total (20,000) and wrote the new amount underneath it, "And it's being taken care for a very low price." "So not necessarily good fortune, but being able to deal with my own problems an ocean away is always extremely satisfying." She continued to flip through the journal making various notes and suddenly stopped, a wide toothy smile spread across her lips. Beth had sketched pictures of all the Anarchs she had listed as contacts in her phone from the picture ID. Espen drug her fingers down the textured surface, Beth's various pen strokes had made. Frankie's smile and the bold rise of her mohawk; Nora's long tresses and her full lips. There were other random sketches alongside the Anarchs of random people she'd probably seen walking past their home, animals, objects lying around the house. She traced the wide, happy signature at the bottom of the page. She snapped the book closed and tucked it away gently as she rubbed her dog tags through the fabric of her dress shirt. "So...overall I am a very happy woman..." |
![]() "If the day ever comes when you're tempted to sell me out, remember this: Whatever their price, I'll beat it. I like living." -- Tyrion Lannister Espen: #6699CC - Beth: #CC0099 | |
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| Vanth | Thursday, 11. July 2013, 21:08 Post #6 |
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Vanth had been relaxing in one of the corners of the little place, his feet tethered to a chair opposite his own, legs outstretched. The caucasian man wore shades to hide his eyes, though much of his long, dark brown hair dyed in different colours making him quite recognisable. Upon seeing the rum and coke delivered to the new entrant, he stopped stroking his connecting goatee and spoke up with a British accent, his voice deep and dripping with sarcasm. "This is the Tripper. Place is so awful that not even beggars would choose it. Rats take a smell of the stuff in the basement and scurry away..." he glanced over to the bar and continued in an affected New Yersey accent: "No disrespect." He got to his feet, standing almost seven feet tall as he advanced slowly on Cadence, pushing his shades up and into his hair so that his lilac eyes were revealed. "People who drink here, get drunk. You still a hot one, boyo?" |
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| Iscariot | Friday, 12. July 2013, 03:28 Post #7 |
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Speaking of distractions.. William had never spent much time around other kindred.. he preferred his books and the muses that inspired them. That isn't to say that he wasn't ever inspired by his kind; it did happen from time to time. But more often than not his stories were brought to life by those that were still living. But these people.. the tales they would weave. He remained quiet throughout it all, observing and sipping his scotch. Cadence appeared to be well mannered.. Colorado. I'm sure he could still put that hat to use.. Mountains, living off the land. Eating what you kill. How apt. There was no beating heart in this man.. but if he had to gauge an age he would say that he was still relatively young. There was a deepness to him, beneath the polite exterior. William was sure of it. And the pretty little blonde. Not that he'd ever say that aloud.. she would probably find a way to chastise him in a humiliating way. Or simply hurt him. Either way she wasn't a woman he wanted to cross. Self sufficient was the first word that came to mind. No nonsense.. business oriented. Also not alive.. And so it seems that my source was right. With a quirked brow he noticed that there were faint paint smudges on her hands but the next distraction quickly drove the curiosity about it from his mind. Now this.. enigma. Clashing colors, mixed accents. Rather harsh personality. William had always admired the eccentric, but this was a bit much even for him. What peg did this man fit in? I'll have to carve him his own damned box.. He eyed the man with wary curiosity, taking another long drink from his glass. Science fiction.. most definitely. Edited by Iscariot, Friday, 12. July 2013, 03:30.
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| Cadence Marcus Maddox | Friday, 12. July 2013, 06:52 Post #8 |
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Ye of Little Faith
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"Someone was stealing from me." Cadence paused, as he hadn't expected that what followed chuckle she offered before apparently concluding her business. However, he did understand the satisfaction involved while taking care of one's own business. The woman didn't have a glass in her hand, but he felt it appropriate to raise his own slightly, saying, "Cheers to that", and taking a sip of the bittersweet mix of coke and alcohol. It was as he put the glass back down as the bar top that he was confronted with the baritone of a man's voice, coming from the mouth of an enormous creature who wore a pair of sunglasses under the neon colors laced through his hair. He sounded American as well, Eastern, and Cadence couldn't help but think he had visited the Tripper on the night of some kind of convention. The tall man (which the Gangrel could swear was an urban legend--or was that the tall man?) approached his station at the bar, and Cadence couldn't help but feeling almost as if he were prey under the other's eyes as he moved his shades up to reveal pale eyes. He seemed the type who liked to intimidate people, but he didn't like to assign others to 'types', so he immediately struck the thought from his mind. He continued in his normal manner, saying through a grin, "I didn't come here to get trashed, rather acquainted. I don't think the place is all that bad anyway, so the rats must have the wrong idea." It was as the man asked if he was a 'hot one', which presumably meant, 'is your heart still beating?' that his smile faltered, but only for a moment. Was everyone in London so frank about their nature? "Well that depends. Are you?", he retorted, admittedly in a more playful tone than he meant; he hoped this, however, would work in his favor. He didn't want to be rude about it, after all. |
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| Vanth | Friday, 12. July 2013, 20:47 Post #9 |
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"Do I look hot to you?" Vanth asked rudely, laughing at his own double entendre before he let his ass fall down on the barstool next to Cadence. The stool creaked but held, and the Malkavian turned towards the Bartender. "I'll take a red." That said, he turned back his attention to the other man. "A/S/L?" he asked then, tilting his head to give the other Kindred a closer look, staring unashamedly. |
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| Cadence Marcus Maddox | Saturday, 13. July 2013, 18:40 Post #10 |
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Ye of Little Faith
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This was one of those situations that always made Cadence feel somewhat awkward. It wasn't that he didn't like the guy, because how could one possibly know if they didn't like a stranger? But he was, admittedly, a little confused. Had he offended the man? He rubbed the stubble on his chin, a nervous tick that sometimes appeared when he didn't know how to handle a situation. As the other sat down, he thought, well he wouldn't be sitting if I had offended him, but still didn't really know how to respond to the retort he received. "A/S/L?" That's odd, he talks in tech speak. "Uhm, 27, male, Brent..?", Cadence replied uncertainly. He was obviously puzzled, and wasn't entirely sure why the other man was sizing him up. It would be stupid to ask him another question, I'll probably just end up looking like an ape; I'm not entirely sure, but I think that's his goal, anyway.. This 'pleasant' visit to the Tripper had turned into some kind of test of his social aptitude, and he was failing miserably. |
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| Vanth | Saturday, 13. July 2013, 19:42 Post #11 |
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Twenty-seven?! Twenty and seven? Fuck that! This whelp could be a confused human who had gotten himself lost in the wrong bar, a liar pretending to be human or a newly embraced nublet. All of these possibilities excited Vanth. "It's not a coincidence that we've met, Cadence", the Malkavian said slowly, emphasising the name he'd just overheard in a sarcastic manner, implying that he knew more about the man than might be expected. He picked up the glass of 'red' and threw it back against his throat in a single go, slowly licking the blood from his teeth before he glanced sideways. His lilac eyes lingered as he worked up the Passion of the Incubus, greatly amplifying the emotions that the other man was feeling right now using his knowledge of Dementation. He was hoping for paranoia or fear. Those were typically the best. But then, you never could really tell until the Discipline took effect. "You see, Cadence, I know exactly what you did back then. And here you are, running away to this stinky bar." he paused to mutter another 'no disrespect' to the bartender, then continued his theatrics: "Frankly, it disgusts me. And I think you are disgusted by it yourself too, somewhere deep down. So why don't you start by telling the truth for once?!" When his chastising revelation reached its climax, the Malkavian attempted to fan the feelings of the young Gangrel to a fever pitch. To top it off, he suddenly stood up again, looking down at the other man with accusing eyes. "Confess!" |
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| Cadence Marcus Maddox | Saturday, 13. July 2013, 20:27 Post #12 |
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Ye of Little Faith
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"It's not a coincidence that we've met, Cadence." At first, he reasoned through why the man should know his name--he had just introduced himself to the quiet one farther down the bar. However as he continued to try and reason it out, he started to feel some sweat emerge on his brow. The way he said it; had they met? How did he know who Cadence was? Why did he use such a knowing tone with him? There was no possible way that this man knew him, the Gangrel would have remembered meeting such a sore thumb of a person. He continued to scratch at his beard, confusion and anxiety rising in his chest like a thermometer placed in hot water. He sucked at him bottom lip. Why was the man still staring at him with those unnerving eyes? Who in the world had purple-floral colored eyes anyway? Were they contacts to hide his real eye color? If they had met before, why didn't Cadence know his name? What the fuck is going on here? The unkempt man was aware of the fact that this was not his normal line of thought. What was happening? It felt as though he were being overcome by madness. His sire had told him of the powers of other clans, this could be the result of something the other man was doing to him, some kind of prank on new comers. Does everyone know about it? In the peripheral was still sitting the quiet man, who had neglected to share his own name, and had only watched since the blonde woman emerged from her seat in the back. This was no coincidence. This British pub was full of Americans. Had they known he was coming and planned some kind of awful joke? "You see, Cadence, I know exactly what you did back then. And here you are, running away to this stinky bar." WHAT? What have I done? I haven't done anything wrong, I just wanted to introduce myself to the Baron.. Or does it go farther back than that? Cadence's brow furrowed slightly. He was starting to lose his composure. He remained tight lipped, for fear of incriminating himself of a crime he did not know he committed, staring down into his rum and coke. He had a head ache now. Was there something in his drink? Jesus, is the bartender in on it too? He pushed the glass away slightly, glancing around in a suspicious manner at everyone in the immediate area. "Frankly, it disgusts me. And I think you are disgusted by it yourself too, somewhere deep down. So why don't you start by telling the truth for once?!" Oh God. Was it the chapstick? The one that I accidentally walked out with in my pocket after school? No, how could he know about that? There was no way. Is it because I never went back to pay for it? I meant to! I really did! I kept forgetting! And then I went to Colorado, I never went back to that grocery store.. Oh the atrocity I've commited... As the tall man stood up, looming over him, Cadence imagined him as the judge, jury, and executioner. The Slender Man had come to punish him for his sins, for his theft of the nice people at the grocery store down the road from college. "Confess!" The Gangrel was reeling, his head felt like it was pulsating. He fell to his knees before the man, pulling at his long coat, begging to be forgiven. "AH GOD. I STOLE THE CHAPSTICK. I walked out forgetting it was in my pocket! I never paid for it, I meant to, I did, and I just kept putting it off! I procrastinated!" Cadence shook his head in angst. "And then I moved away! Without ever going back to pay for what I had done! please forgive me!" Edited by Cadence Marcus Maddox, Saturday, 13. July 2013, 20:33.
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| Iscariot | Saturday, 13. July 2013, 21:46 Post #13 |
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"Confess!" The glass William was holding was poised half way to his mouth, suspended in time as he swiveled his head to stare at the oddity that was this demonic chameleon. He set it down, his digits giving an involuntary twitch as he yearned for pen and paper. What in the actual fuck was going on? He watched, eyes widening in alarm as Cadence threw himself to the floor. Chapstick. He was begging to be forgiven for stealing chaptstick. His face was turned away from William, but the guilt that wafted off of him was almost palatable. Lifting his gaze, Will took a moment to further assess Vanth. Something was off about the man. His aura was a jumble of colors, weaving together like a stomach turning optical illusion. For a moment he considered that this was all some sort of twisted production that he had the misfortune of walking into. Ode to Chapstick: A Vengence Retold. Tossing back the remainder of his drink, William turned towards the two men, clearing his throat. "I once stole a book when I was a child. My mother beat me with my brother's violin bow. Plucked it right out of his hand and trashed me with it. To this day, hearing the violin makes me feel guilty. Perhaps your proper penance should be an eternity of chapped lips." |
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| Vanth | Saturday, 13. July 2013, 22:04 Post #14 |
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Vanth laughed on the inside. This was Epic RL Drama. He couldn't show it, though. Not yet, when this scene could grow to be be so much more epic. "And you've liked beatings ever since, haven't you, boy with the tiny violin? Vanth growled, only briefly glancing at William. If the blonde vampire was a quick one, though, he would have noticed that Vanth had surreptitiously winked at him. He wanted the other man to be in on the joke. It'd make things so much more humiliating for this newbie when it finally did come out. The Malkavian then looked down to the man who was on his knees, grovelling and begging for forgiveness. He scowled harshly and attempted to spit on the man's face in disgust. He spat up blood, thick and red, the condensed Vitae of a true vampire. He then proceeded to grab the gangrel's moss green thermal and lifted him up by it, glowering in an angry fashion as he threatened him with the lyrics of Every Breath You Take, by 'The Police'. "Listen, 'Cadence', and listen closely. Every breath you take. Every move you make. Every bond you break. Every step you take. I'll. Be. Watching. You." Edited by Vanth, Saturday, 13. July 2013, 22:07.
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| Cadence Marcus Maddox | Sunday, 14. July 2013, 08:32 Post #15 |
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Ye of Little Faith
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"And you've liked the beatings ever since, haven't you, boy with the tiny violin?" The first domino had been tipped; there was no reason to speak to the neatly groomed man in such a way, no reason at all to offer such harsh words. He wasn't even involved in this 'conversation', if that's what you could call it. He started to feel as though he was not alone in his his mind, as though something had infiltrated what he thought were the solid earthen walls of his private places. He saw a flash of green, felt moisture, his beast growling like rolling thunder from inside him. The storm was set in motion, domino now collapsed upon domino, as the Gangrel felt bloody sputum hit his face. His beast roared in his mind and now, the flash of green was becoming something significant. he could feel thistles beneath his feet, thistles that grew up into Douglas firs and evergreens around him. The earth felt wet, like it was covered in fresh rain, and dew dropped from the ends of branches, feeding the roots that lay beneath the clay. Where was he? Home? No. He was lost. He was miles away from his path. Cadence felt the chill of the breeze against his wet clothing and shivered. He was lost and had no map, no trail, nothing to follow. What was he to do? Where was the vein, the pulse, he was meant to follow now? All he saw were the ancient trees that stood in his way as he looked around, barefooted and chilled to the bone. At that moment, his eyes passed over something yellow, something like a pair of yellow eyes that made him double take. The yellow headlights gazed at him from hooded eyelids and barbed ears. He saw fur the color of snow and earth, then in a flash, it began to run away. The man gasped, "No! Wait!", as he ran at full speed after the creature, the lanky legs that carried it at a fast pace quickly leaving Cadence behind. What was happening? Why had he felt the need to follow the seemingly feline beast? It had shaken it's pursuer off it's very short tail, leaving him out of breath and even more confused than he previously had been. He uttered, "fuck", under his breath as he let his torso fall over his legs, trying to bring air to his dead lungs. It was as he did this that he noticed the solid trail beneath his pedals, one that he had not been acquainted with which led onward through the centuries-old trees and the Indian paint brushes and tiny sunflowers that lined it at each side, reaching farther than his eyes could perceive. 'I've finally found the path.' This path, the spiral through wild life, through songs of birds and frogs, led him for what felt like miles in his sore and bloodied feet. Eventually, the sounds of the woodland creatures died out and were replaced by muted sounds of rolling booms after strikes of lightning to the ground. He could feel the mocking laughter of an unseen and uninvited presence. His travels, coming to an end after what seemed like an eternity, led him to what he now saw clearly was a Canada Lynx, whose paws were disproportionately large and whose pale golden eyes presented themselves as luminosity in a very dark place. Behind the lynx, whose stare was fastened on him, whose ubiquity felt maternal, was a great black serpent that had scaled laced with toxic neon colors and the shining tint of a beetle's wing casings. The serpent lay coiled around the biggest tree Cadence had ever seen, with a trunk as wide as he was tall, and branches that reached so high the man thought they might get caught in the clouds and bring them crashing down upon his head. For all the awe the tree, the Giver Tree, he immediately named it, did strike in him, his focus was on the unwelcome guest slumbering around it's base. The serpent did not belong here, it's lengths were strangling the life out of the Giver Tree and he could see the leaves turning yellow, then brown, and falling to the forest floor before his very eyes. 'Oh god, the tree!', he said, his voice sounding like rubbing sand stone together and feeling like it too. The lynx watched the man with a knowing expression in her golden orbs, as if she knew he were about to do something and was simply waiting for the show to start. The serpent lay still as Cadence approached, leaves falling around him like the light rain that had fallen before his consciousness was brought here. He had found a large rock, moving slowly, silently, through the mire that started to get stuck between his toes, toward the poison that was the black reptile. 'You're on my playing field. This is my Giver Tree, and you can't have it. I'll kill you first.' He felt blood bubble and boil in his veins as he burned it, turning his hands, his fingers, into lethal daggers than ran through the serpent's neck, pinning it to a length of it's own tail as he bashed the monster's head in with the stone he carried, leaving it's skull a bloody pulp. There was no more laughter. Back in the real world, the Gangrel saw the tall man with sober eyes now, and a deep, feral growl started to emerge from the depths of his belly, making it's way quickly up and outward, his blueish green eyes full of unabashed rage the likes the man had never before felt in his life. His face twisted into wild animosity as he jerked out of the offender's grasp. "I see you now, snake", he muttered, rage shaking the very vibrations of his larynx. He wiped the spittle from his cheek with the sleeve of his shirt, enmity never leaving his gaze. This serpent, this loathsome piece of absolute shit, had publicly shamed and humiliated him, but Cadence knew the game now. Edited by Cadence Marcus Maddox, Sunday, 14. July 2013, 15:49.
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| Vanth | Sunday, 14. July 2013, 10:41 Post #16 |
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Neonate
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"Snake. Yes." He'd been called worse. Back on the continent, he might have been named the son of a whore and cursed to suffer cancer, syphilis and plague. To be called after a Biblical creature was innocent, really. He wondered if this boy was still a devout Christian. Perhaps the son of an upstanding family of Evangelicals from the Rocky's, still trying to atone for his Embrace. And for the theft of Chapsticks, apparently. The boy was in dire need of being despoiled. For his own good, really. "You are right. I am sorry. I'll ask for only one favour..." the Malkavian said, making it seem as though he was about to surrender himself to the other Kindreds' mercy. He hunched his shoulders and lowered his eyes, pretending to have been sincerely hurt by that comment. Then the grin returned, and he whispered the favour he desired: "Three seconds' head start." He rushed for the front door, looking over his shoulder after he had opened it to call out a taunting, sing-song "Loser!", just to try and make sure that the nearly frenzied Kindred would give chase. Edited by Vanth, Sunday, 14. July 2013, 10:45.
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| Espen Schroeder | Monday, 15. July 2013, 01:35 Post #17 |
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Blue Blood Rebel
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Espen smiled at the young scruffy looking man and held up a finger signaling she'd be back in a second, and returned to her booth quickly retrieving her briefcase and tucking her tablet back inside. She scooped up her glass and returned to the bar silently handing her briefcase to the bartender who took it without comment and tucked it safely away. She sat back down comfortably just taking notice of the colorful looking man, but having missed their conversation. What she did catch was the strange acronym. Although Espen liked to pride herself on her ability to adapt with technology, she adapted it to her business needs, and wasn't well educated when it came to abstract internet language. She sipped her drink and listened to the reply and raised her eyebrows as the meaning dawned on her, That's quite clever. This man by himself was just a vision of color that toed the line of normality, but she supposed she was no one to judge, she quite enjoyed the abstract color in her young pupil which reminded her that she needed to contact the young Brujah to meet about some lessons in Presence. She slipped her phone out and quickly began texting her. Completely uncaring of the conversation around her, only vaguely staying aware of it as she drank the mix of blood from some female athlete that had a love of citrus flavored drinks that left the taste of her favorite fruit in her blood, and a bubbly mix of Sunny D and Sprite. I need to schedule lessons to teach you. Lets not have it end like last time, k, Mama Bear? Aguirre wasnt cool with me showing up with a piece of chainlink fence still lodged in my hand Of course, you already passed my fitness test with flying colors, the fact that that fencing was loose and very sharp was unfortunate, but shouldn't happen again unless people are now crafting weapons from chainlink fencing. Meet me at the Tripper tonight if you have time. Yeah thats cool. Im just headin home from this delievery and ill come over if nothing else comes up Good. As I mentioned before, you and I will be spending a majority of our time together focusing on presence and overall techniques you will need. (Weapons, defense, strategy, money management, hunting, control, survival skills, etc.) I'm planning a basic, versatile schedule that should be flexible enough for our training needs. Neat, otr. Espen smiled it was a well known acronym to her now, though its meaning had vexed her at first she'd become used to its signal that Frankie was 'on the run'. She returned back to reality as Colors said the scruffy one's name, Cadence, hm...that's an interesting name. He seems very sweet. She tucked her hair behind her ear and frowned as Colors began to accuse him of wrong deeds. Her eyes widened and she slowly sipped her drink, tempted to stand from the bar and remove herself from a potentially embarrassing situation, however she simply turned her head away and sighed, "Perhaps a bit too sweet then." "I once stole a book when I was a child. My mother beat me with my brother's violin bow. Plucked it right out of his hand and trashed me with it. To this day, hearing the violin makes me feel guilty. Perhaps your proper penance should be an eternity of chapped lips." Espen hardened and said without much thought, words falling from her lips without any amount of filter, "I've stolen more than I can recall or care to remember. I'll feel guilty for ruining lives; do my penance by giving back where I can, no use feeling things that can't help you." She signaled the bartender and asked for the bottle of premixed drink that she paid him to keep behind the bar for her every night she came in. He retrieved the bottle and filled the glass before returning it to its place and going back to his duties. She sipped it the refreshing flavor of the blood and citrus flavored drink washing away that particular train of thought and refocusing her on the situation beside her catching Colors reply to Violin. She scowled, she hated people like this, that thought they were witty and hilarious, when they were acting like bastards. She suddenly didn't feel bad at all for thinking Colors to be all manner of god awful taste, tacky and gaudy colors, and the personality of scum. Cadence...he was so sweet, so much a reminder of Beth, with his innocence and misunderstanding in this situation. Her unoccupied right hand clenched in displeasure and anger as her beast hissed encouraging songs into her ears and pleaded her to release her might upon this piece of trash and teach him what happened to people that preyed on the innocence of others. She held it in check appeasing it with pulls of blood from her drink. She was nearly in control of it when she noticed him grab Cadence. The glass broke in her left hand as she clenched it with all her might trying to restrain her persuasive and vengeful beast. As blood hit Cadence's face she snapped. Her mind went blank for a moment and she grappled with long suppressed rage. Darkness. There were men all around her. Threatening her, demanding money that she didn't have. She was so afraid... Couldn't stand back... I can't let her get hurt. She doesn't deserve this...she doesn't deserve to be haunted! She's not strong enough for this! Mother...Mother's dead... I had to take over. The pain...by god the pain...flashes of a blade, overwhelming pain as knuckles connect with flesh, the gross taste of metal on her tongue as a rust dusted hand covers her mouth, spit on her face as feet disappear leaving her young pain addled body laying on the cold ground. Darkness...I think Beth was there for awhile...I didn't let her stay though, she doesn't need to know this pain...Walk. Just keep walking. No reason to stay here any longer, just keep going. Espen roused herself from the memory and held the beast back as she grappled Cadence, refusing to let him do something he'd regret like rip that bastard limb from limb, as sorry as she'd be to let him escape, she couldn't hold Cadence back and deal with Colors herself. Her mind processed thoughts quickly. Bloody spit; he's kindred. Tech speak; young. Asshole... She frowned and quickly deduced, Asshole, plain and simple. Her beast gave low growls that left her with a rumble in the back of her throat as tightened her grip on Cadence's wrists that she held behind his back. She was ready to quickly sweep her foot in front of him and yank him off balance and push him down to the floor if her control faltered and her beast escaped demanding to give chase. She couldn't stand someone who seemed so innocent to be left with blood that may be problematic (seeing as he was kindred prey) on their hands, when she was just as capable of doing it and she would rest easily for years to come with the knowledge that she'd rid the world of him. Her muscles quaked with barely contained rage as she listened to his pathetic attempt to apologize and surrender, but she could see through his lies. He was a jester, a tricky foul who was worth less than the time she expending thinking about him. Then it occurred to her. Her rage...Cadence's...it was like fuel to Colors. She had been coiling herself to release Dread Gaze or Command to force an end to Colors games, but now she quickly turned Cadence so that she was looking directly into his rage filled eyes and growled as she focused it into a simple command (Dominate), "Calm." She looked over catching a glimpse of Colors fleeing and said as she released him completely and raised her hand for another drink and received the bottle in return as the bartender wiped up the remnants of her glass, "He's not worth all shit and piss in London's sewers..." Her eyes hardened as she collapsed onto her stool and said darkly, "Let him run...the fucking troll." |
![]() "If the day ever comes when you're tempted to sell me out, remember this: Whatever their price, I'll beat it. I like living." -- Tyrion Lannister Espen: #6699CC - Beth: #CC0099 | |
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| Zola Van Gundy | Wednesday, 17. July 2013, 18:08 Post #18 |
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Die Slow
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Beneath the earth a recording began. Beneath the earth the lights were broken. Beneath the earth they both cried out, the lover and her victim. Kissing, stabbing, dancing, begging, crying, crawling, stop. Beneath the earth the sound deafened her ears, and the ears of her beautiful corpse. This time they would find the treasure she buried. The clues were in the notes. There was nothing left to offer. The water had taken its gift. The stain-proof makeup held its color as thin fingertips ran blood across her face. “It’s so warm. Feel my heart. Can you? I felt yours. Beating all over me. Beating all over us both. I give this to you. Die in filth. Die in the water. I will always love the cut I gave you. I will never forget the cries you gave me. I could stay with you in our hell together, but I need to fly away. They’ll find you after you go. Don’t be afraid. I took the fear from you. All you need to do is wade out. Into the water.” A bomb shelter like that would have been forgotten. The hatches were red, the rust was nearly complete in victory. Gloved hands escaped the grave, climbing the ladder out of the eternal spectacle she created. There would be a time to watch the portal. Watch from afar while bystanders and police descended into her performance, see her works. Arrest was an overture to the rushing flood she would unleash through the city. Choking everyone as they beg to be drowned. Zola rose up into the night air and stayed still for a moment. She pulled the sewer lid back into its resting place, echoes of the noise beneath caressing her like the embrace of a ghost. Above the surface, London throbbed. There were places to hide, slipping through shadows, and there were places to walk freely. Her poncho concealed hands that refused to be clean of dried blood, beneath the fabric her fingertips admired the life she had spilt all over herself. But the air above kept her from the shore. Her world, the personal reality of Zola Van Gundy, had rules as any other. She had loyalties, and a code of conduct. Art would never die. Her exhibit would be ready for the public, when they found it. The Night Tripper didn’t shine, she hated that. First impressions were lousy. About to be much worse. A lack of kine to be seen, or heard, or felt, or gouged put pout on her face. Conversation required so much formality, so much etiquette. Around avaliable cattle it wouldn’t be intolerable, feeding and laughing with the sweetness slipping out the edges of her lips. Her hands, unclean from her work, reached out to the door. A corpse greeted her. His face buried into her chest. Could he smell her work? She heard him call out to the inside of the pub. It didn’t matter. A ball of fidgets, snickering before the sudden astonishment. Stained hands gripped his shoulders and moved him aside. “Fuck off very much.” The patterns around her eyes shone brilliantly in the interior lighting. A bar was a shore, and she wanted to step into someplace wet. Everyone Kindred, but never enough. Little bunches huddled together at the bar, black boots propelled her towards them. Her eyes fixated on the volatile youth and his soothing superior. His bristles were on edge, and did he had the faint of weirding on him? That moon talk always made the conversation more appealing, but he was hit by the moonlight, not the one who fired the shot. Holding the powder keg was an older one, with her eyes diving into the young one to quell that anger. She drifted towards an empty barstool at the end, ripe with love and hate carved in with knife tips. “Where is the Baron?” With no declarative voice of presence from here or any other room, Zola assumed she had not yet arrived. “I’m giving her one half hour. All of you straight yourselves out. This meeting took me away from a nice fucking moment, any one here pushes me further and I’ll take you back there and drown you. Settle your beast, cut your blood burning, and sit the fuck down. I ask once.” Edited by Zola Van Gundy, Wednesday, 17. July 2013, 18:13.
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| Cadence Marcus Maddox | Wednesday, 17. July 2013, 22:22 Post #19 |
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Ye of Little Faith
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"Calm." For some reason, as the blonde kindred made eye contact with him, he couldn't help but give in to the suggestion she offered. His mind was being manipulated again, which bothered him at some level, but for now now he took deep breaths and felt his beast recede back to the depths of himself at the sight of the elder vampire's gaze. Besides, it was a relief that he no longer had to hold back his darker part. This was far too populated an area for him to frenzy, and there were way to many people even inside the bar for him to avoid killing someone, not to mention the ones out on the street. To boot, there was a new visitor, a visitor who reeked of blood, not to mention that her face was painted up like she was going to war. The other guy, Cadence might have been able to take him, but this woman was in a completely different league. She moved his assailant out of the way like a piece of cheap furniture, and the command she gave after asking for the Baron was less 'asking' than it was threatening. This newcomer gave off a chill which made it's way down Cadence's spine in a very uncomfortable manner. His instincts perceived her as a predator rather than a member of his species. The Gangrel had been waiting for the Baroness too, but found it was probably in his best interest to let the other go first. The blonde woman looked to be sticking around for a moment, and he felt he probably owed her a 'thank you' and some head-hanging for the way he had been made to behave. He was completely embarrassed, publicly humiliated, but he needed to get over it were he to properly introduce himself to the Anarch leader. He sat back on his stool, a look upon his face like he had tasted something spoiled. He still wanted to quarter than prick where he stood, but for now, he would settle with imagining it in silence for a few moments. |
![]() -Got dirt, got air, got water and I know you can carry on- Spoiler: click to toggle
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| Iscariot | Thursday, 18. July 2013, 06:32 Post #20 |
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Childe
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Never having been one to easily rise to the bait, Vanth's retort made William chuckle. He motioned to the bartender for another round. The atmosphere around Candence changed rapidly, the guilt receding to be replaced with tension. The young man's aura became lit with a growing red, like a pool of blood expanding from a corpse. He noted the distance to behind the bar and was satisfied with his ability to get behind it and out of the way should either a fight break out or the building possibility of the Gangrel frenzying. Snake. It's fitting. Smooth scales traversing his limbs, green tinted and the ever present drawn out s. Antagonist in every shape of the word. Vanth's flight to the door elicited raised brows, and with a sigh William supposed the 'correct' thing to do would be to go after him and drag his sorry ass back. Blondy had the time bomb under control in his estimate. With a longing glance at the glass of blood laced whiskey the bartender just set in front of him he turned in the barstool and was in the act of standing when in walked the most interesting individual. Immediately he was torn between fascination and wariness. The scent of dried blood swept over him as she passed by and settled herself onto a barstool. War and combat, streaked with the blood of her enemies. Vivid colors of her displeasure painted onto her features as she decimated those that dare stand in her way. Your scalp would be hers. William wasn't ever sure this was a story he wanted to imagine. Death and destruction weren't his bread and butter. Her words cut his fascination short and ramped up the wariness. They hung in the silence afterwards like an executioners axe, a breadth of a second away from ending everything. Drowning wasn't on his to do list. And that is my cue to leave.. With a glance towards Espen and Candence he tilted the contents of his drink into his mouth, emptying the full glass in a few gulps. "Charming though this night has been, I believe it's time for me to be going. Cheers to your business dealings my dear, Cadence- I'll bring along chapstick for our next meeting. And may the Baron find you in good health." He nodded to each in turn, making sure to not directly catch eyes with Zola. |
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3:53 PM Jul 11