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The Times
The Kindred Chronicle
Key Figures
THE MONSTER OF EALING
Last night, several people reported the sighting of a "screaming red monster" in a quiet neighbourhood of Ealing. After a power shortage in the area, a building caught fire. It was then when, what was described as a "man shaped, footless creature" emerged from the flames, leaping, running, and screaming. One woman has told our reporters that the man had "teeth like a wolf, and the face of the devil". Police officers are still trying to get to the bottom of this; neither the power shortage nor the fire have still been explained. A spokesperson from Scotland Yard has stated that the "so called monster" might be a wounded person, escaping the fire.

TRAGEDY IN TOOLEY STREET
The police has found the bodies of three TFL workers in the construction site at Tooley Street. One of their colleagues raised the alarms last week, when the three workers didn't attend their shifts. The bodies of the men have been found in a deep hole, uncovered by the refurbishment works that are taking place in the area. According to the Police, the bodies were horribly mutilated, which has led to the wildest speculations. The names of the three workers are being kept anonymous, following the wishes of their families.

HOROSCOPE
MARCH 8 - PISCES
You are used to making sacrifices, to prioritising the happiness of others before yours. Even though that is a noble attitude, there are times in life where the only healthy alternative is to embrace your own selfishness and allow yourself some enjoyment. Reserve one hour per day to do something you really like. Treat yourself! Your colour for this month is blue.
Echoes from the past ring back into London. Their intensity increases until they are deafening. What once was a faded memory of a glorious time, now becomes a shocking reality. The consequences of actions taken decades ago ripple into the present, altering the lives of everybody in the City. Unguided and blind, Kindred wander around, trying to make profit out of the reigning chaos.


The appearance of four mysterious figures turned the city upside down. Mistrust and jealousy became the official currency of London. Serpents and fiends rise to power, misdirecting the blaming eyes of the Camarilla towards imaginary enemies. Only those with clear vision and the ability to trust each other strive, while the rest run towards a shallow grave.



Across The Board
Current Chronicle: Dragons and Lions; Pride and Fire
Current Season: Spring
Controlling Sect: Camarilla



Index
Getting Started
General Information
Central London
North London
East London
West London
South London
Miscellaneous
Out of Character


Population: 31

Camarilla
Anarchs
Other
Ventrue: 1
Toreador: 5 (6)
Brujah: 2 (3)
Malkavian: 7
Tremere: 2
Nosferatu: 3
Gangrel: 1
Ventrue: 1
Toreador: 0
Brujah: 2 (3)
Malkavian: 0
Nosferatu: 1
Gangrel: 1
Setites: 5
Sabbat: ???


THE CAMARILLA

Prince

Nobody

Sheriff
Meredith Furlong
Hounds
Robyne Sheridan
Rosella Marie Allain


Keeper of Elysium
Davvad Bisset

Grand Harpy
Catherine Wilke

Primogen
Ventrue: Marcus Antonio Russo
Brujah: Thomas Krusen
Gangrel: Alexa Mallik
Malkavian: Ellora Reese
Tremere: Hannah Sundling
Toreador: Arsenio Pozzi
Nosferatu: Dogan Khojak



ANARCHS

Baron

Khoza

Baronets
Enfield: Leslie
Haringey & Barnet: Clarice Harris
Harrow: Jelena Korolenko

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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.

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The Grand Assembly
Topic Started: Wednesday, 21. August 2013, 23:08 (3,490 Views)
Jelena
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Anarch Mama Bear
* * * *
Ellen only rolled her eyes as he refuted her provocation with icy voice and a stare to match. Atta boy, that was the spirit ! A short 'HA !' was all she had to say to that. The blow to the head caught her by surprise. Had Gramps just delivered a Bud Spencer move on her ? Not bad ! She thought there was a light cracking sound at her neck and a short pang of pain shot up her neck and jabbed into the back of her head. The Ukrainian staggered a step back. Her foot touched the chair she had been sitting on a moment ago. That gave her an idea !

Her hand snapped forward, targeting the wrist of the hand that had just hit her. If she got a hold of it, she intended to twist it forcefully towards the ground, enough to create an opening. Nothing big, just big enough for this - chair ! She then grabbed her chair and swung it at Gramps' chest as hard as she could with this little space.
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George Henry Harris
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Methuselah
* * * * * *
As Georges hand got caught in a wristlock, he found himself thinking about an appropriate way to get out of that situation and after a short pondering he thought he might have found the answer...

Damn, caught in a wristlock... But maybe this little trick might work, we'll see...

With a short strained smile he looked at his opponent, showing her he wasn't beaten easily. As the chair was swung into his direction he threw his left fist at it and shattered it in the air before it even touched his chest. Then he noticed that she left her side exposed and responded by speeding his movements and then ramming his foot repeatedly into the exposed spot.
Edited by George Henry Harris, Friday, 11. October 2013, 02:22.
Languages: English, Welsh
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Aguirre Efrain Maddox
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Mouse
* * * * *
At the first sign of real trouble, Aguirre knew where she needed to be; at least, she knew that it wasn't here, in between two ticking time bombs and a Primogen that wasn't fond of either of them. When Ellen rose to meet George's 'challenge', where was she? Getting the fuck out of her folding chair and moving back from the inevitable action, which escalated far too quickly for her taste. Hitting each other with fucking furniture? Were they suddenly back in America? Was this being filmed and broadcasted to some Brujah audience somewhere?

The lanky woman could only wince in response to the loud clatter the chair made as pieces of it flew across the stage, metal bits landing at her feet and probably pelting some of the others who had failed to move away before.

"What... The fuck... Is happenin' right now?" she muttered in a small, bewildered voice. Wasn't gonna be easy flipping the switch on this situation.
Edited by Aguirre Efrain Maddox, Friday, 11. October 2013, 23:16.
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We are all museums of fear.
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Ares
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The Soldier
* * *
Ares watched and assessed the pair, looked for strengths and weeknesses in the form. He realized neither was really fighting at this point, just testing each other like sacrificing pawns in chess...at least that is how he thought it seemed.
Ares watched the others carefully to, action and reaction are both connected.He wawatched as the attractive anarch backed away and looked upset over these two rams butting heads. He looked to see what the beardo and the punk were going to do, as well as the kid from Elysium. He analyzed everyone in seconds, as was his greatest gift. A brief smirk almost crosses his face as he mo es his head to the side to avoid a flying chair fragment. Seems London would prove entertaining after all...seemed giving peace a chance could wait...and after all, a cheetah can not change his sports, So Ares watched on in muted interest how the rest of this sparring match would go.
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Theme Songs: Your Going Down - Sick Puppies and Night Train - Guns n' Roses
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Ronnie
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Ancilla
* * * *
Ronnie didn´t back away and looked relaxed. He even leaned back, and it looked as if he was enjoying the "show".
The parts of chair that were flying around, Ronnie parried them with his arm easily.
He didn´t seem to be worried and enjoyed that little bit of action right now.
It would be interesting to see how it would end.
To avoid a physical confrontation when being provoked physically, it wouldn´t make George look at all confident, if he backed off then.
And as if that was something new that two Brujah started fighting when it came to a gathering of Brujah.
It would be a miracle if that didn´t happen, so it was not a surprise at all to Ronnie.
Yeah well, that simply happened, and it didn´t look like a life-or-death-struggle, so no need to interfere or to worry.
Bad boy Ronnie, Pictures of Ronnie
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Ares
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The Soldier
* * *
Ares offers Ronnie a small nod, seeing him as someone he may have a little bit in common with in the room. He was sure he may have seen him earlier...perhaps somewhere in his travels...perhaps in Germany someplace?

These types of gatherings, these Rants and Raves were always Ares favorite part of dealing with his own kind...you yell, you fight, you drink, you party and enjoy the night...it was th Brujah way...the other clans never got it, but he and his seemed to get it...ironically, it was always like this with his family growing up and with his buddies in the Army. Infantry, especially paratroopers, always partied like this...perhaps that was why he seemed to enjoy being a Brujah.
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Theme Songs: Your Going Down - Sick Puppies and Night Train - Guns n' Roses
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Marceline
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Childe
*
Marceline was mostly terrified at the sudden but inevitable change of events as everything had now come down to another fight. She, for one, wasn't fast enough to matrix-dodge the flying chair remains and one of the larger ones allocated itself on her eye, a fact to which she calmly replied with a "aaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA ffuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck shit hurts so muuuuuuuuuch"

Before moving around aimlessly without doing anything to remove the object that was painfully piercing her eye, yet trying to grab it as if she really was about to do something with it. "Aaaaah jesus fuck why would you even do that agrhrrhg" she shouted and yelled in pain as she stumbled around.
"Somewhere to hide to keep me alive- Just keep me alive"
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Jelena
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Anarch Mama Bear
* * * *
"Ooooof !"

The kicks lifted Ellen off her feet and made her fly backwards. The sensation of being airborne didn't stick with her as she crashed into one of the empty chairs hard. A sharp pain shot through her back as she made contact with the chair and took it and the two chairs next to it with her on a little stage diving tour of her own. Too bad there was no audience and she and the chairs were only caught by even more fucking chairs ! She felt an intense dislike for Gramps rising up, not the 'I dont like you' kind, more the 'I wanna dismember him and wear his skull as a hat' sort.

Wasn't much she could do at this point, though. All that the others could see of her were her legs sticking out ouf a small pile of chairs and chair parts. "Fuck this !" she cursed. Not even worth to try and get out of this without healing the broken bones first. It hurt like hell, but at least she could still hear what was going on on-stage. Without making a fuss like this other girl who by the sound of it broke a nail or shit. Not that she cared. Ellen concentrated on calming down, listening and healing. In that order.
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George Henry Harris
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Methuselah
* * * * * *
Alright, time to wrap this up, I think... As the fight seems to be over, we can continue, I think... But who is that over there ? Seems awkwardly familiar though I'm not sure I ever met her...

Looking around George seemed to think about how to continue the meeting after the little 'discussion' with Ellen was over. Calling his minions to his side with a gesture he whispered to them for a while then send them to their tasks, while he went to the collapsed pile of wood covering Ellen and adressed her.

"You said you want to be paid for helping me... What exactly do you want as payment ? What whould be sufficient to make you fight at my side ?"

Meanwhile Barney had posted himself at the door again, as that was his task and the stage-thingy wasn't...

Meanwhile Jane walked over to Marcie, looked at her, then got a hold on her to keep her from stumbling around and hurting herself even more, while softly speaking to her.

"Don't worry, little sister, help is here... Do you need help getting that splinter out of your eye or do you prefer doing that alone ?"

Simultaneously a chair was put into the middle of the circle and Verity sat down, smiling at Aguirre and handing her a piece of paper and a pencil.

"I know that Mr. Harris should be asking you that himself, but he is a bit preoccupied at the moment and thus I'm doing this, if you don't mind... Would you please write your price down there so we can talk about it, miss ? I'm afraid this is getting a bit hectic, but it is just ensuring we can get to business quickly..."

Languages: English, Welsh
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Ares
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The Soldier
* * *
Fireworks over, Ares stretches out his long legs and listens to the part he was most interested in....battle plans.

For him, it was all about battle plans. Since he would get no peace, Eddie saw to that, he would get paid in blood...Sabbat blood. It was the only payment he was interested in, which was odd since he was a professional mercenary for the last 20 years...but his accounts were full and he lived a simple life, with occasional expenditures on new hardware for wetworks.

Ares shrugged a shoulder and popped his neck, reaching for the cigar in his pocket when he remembered the Primogen's no smoking sign...bah humbug.
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Theme Songs: Your Going Down - Sick Puppies and Night Train - Guns n' Roses
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Ronnie
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Ancilla
* * * *
After Ares had nodded to Ronnie, he smiled at Ares.
It would be really interesting to have a kind of test fight with Ares, just for fun, Ronnie was curious to find out how good that guy was and if Ronnie could manage against him at all.
He supposed that Ares was a better fighter than himself, but how much better, that was the question. He had to find out!

Only after a female voice cried out Ronnie noticed that there had another new Brujah appeared.
She apparently got hurt badly by a piece of that chair.
The fight ended very soon, and it was George who won. The woman who lost ended up covered by lots of chairs, that was like in a slapstick comedy. But it was better not to laugh now.

So the others could demand a payment. Well, he really would be glad about some money, too. But he couldn´t really demand any payment now, could he. Because he needed the damned Sabbat heads for the prince.
But bringing heads to him, literally, wasn´t really possible. Destroyed vampires turned into ashes, or not? So he could only bring the prince a bag full of ashes or some staked Sabbaties. And from some ashes you couldn´t even see how many persons that were, so that didn´t really prove how many of the bastards he had killed.
Yeah great, so was he supposed to walk around with a staked bastard tucked under his arm?
Well, he could use his camper van for the transport. But he didn´t really want the blood of that scum in his van. So maybe he should buy some big plastic bags to put them into.

Bad boy Ronnie, Pictures of Ronnie
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Aguirre Efrain Maddox
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Mouse
* * * * *
Damn, that ended ugly. Quickly at least, and now she'd seen a glimpse of what the Primogen could do, and felt slightly more confident about perhaps fighting at his side. She was taken away from the thought by the loud, dramatic gurgle of profanity to the effect of, basically, "OW". The exclamation was coupled with clumsy footsteps that were only amplified by the stage floor, and the woman emitting all the noise? Well, she hadn't made herself known to the group until now. Who the fuck was she?

A chair was set before Aguirre, paper and pencil being pushed in her direction by one of the women who presumably worked for George, and just as soon as the fight ended... Her services were being priced. Of course, she did have a number in mind--but did that number factor in any life threatening circumstances? Any serious damage done? She didn't know the specifics of the job they were doing, besides spilling Sabbat blood. She hesitated for a long moment before finally snatching the writing utensils out of the woman's hands, writing down her phone number instead. Upon handing it back, she offered an explanation:

"Considerin' we ain't got much of a set up yet, it won't do to be shovin' a price tag down y'all's throats. Not til I know what we're doin' and we're in a less... Hectic settin'."

She didn't want to be difficult when everyone besides herself and maybe two others already had that covered. Rest assured, Aguirre wouldn't be offering Ellen a hand this time, not when she'd done such a good job bringing that ass kicking down upon herself.
Edited by Aguirre Efrain Maddox, Wednesday, 23. October 2013, 18:31.
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We are all museums of fear.
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Jelena
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Anarch Mama Bear
* * * *
"You said you want to be paid for helping me... What exactly do you want as payment ? What whould be sufficient to make you fight at my side ?"

Ellens reply came as a cough that turned into some sort of low chuckle. She grimaced as she finally sucked the broken tooth out of her jaw and spit it onto the floor. Or the fucking layer of chair parts she was lying on together with a pang of pain and a small amount of blood. "Sorry, Gramps! Not buying the virgin in the skirt. What you have to offer?" For all she knew Gramps could be worth lots of useful shit or he could be broke and desperate. If that was the case and the fucking anarchs were his last chance for a shot at survival, she wouldn't want to get involved in that clusterfuck if she could avoid it! So it would be on Gramps to make her an offer she wouldn't refuse. But putting a price on shit without knowing all the details? So not going to happen! So she simply stayed in her new nutshell and waited for whatever would be coming her way. Once the pain died down and she was got used to the wood splinters that were stuck in her skin and would make her look like a hedgehog or at least that was what she imagined, it wasn't too bad down here after all. Couldn't get distracted by much and the others, well, she could put some of the faces to the voices, seemed good enough for her for now.
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Ares
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The Soldier
* * *
Ares cracks his neck and nuckles while waiting for the Primigen to fill in the blanks on what misdion he has planned. In his assessment of the others, he was dead on about the front the Anarchs would put out. In his mind they were mercenaries like him, just not half as polidhed or organized, but ay least they recognized they aren't fighting for a cause, just something tangible. Ares admired that about them, other than that, he knew and they knew they were cannon fodder in the big picture, the big game the elders keep denying and the Sabbat keep using as their excuse to be who they are.

As he let his eyes size up Ronnie, his body language, the look in his eyes, they way his hands moved about...Ares got that old pre fight vibe from him. It was enough to make his fangs descend behind his, now forming, wicked smile. His face was still stone though, the smile was just in his mind, but the fangs were real as they are the best weapon to sneak past any weapons screening system. If Ronnie wanted to test him in combat it was going to be a fun ride. Ares could feel that old black dog inside him start to get excited, pull a little on his leash...but for now, he was going to let the Primogen say his piece.
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Theme Songs: Your Going Down - Sick Puppies and Night Train - Guns n' Roses
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George Henry Harris
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Methuselah
* * * * * *
With a friendly smile Verity took the note, looked at it and then at Aguirre, slowing shaking her head.

"Don't get me wrong, but we're getting it organized and therefore I'd ask you to stay here and wait until all who have a part in the endeavour are here... It's better if everyone taking part gets to voice their opinion on it... I'm sure you understand..."

Meanwhile George looked at Ellen, still waiting for her to get up. After a while of thinking he smiled at her.

"And you think I'll buy her instead ? How does money sound ? We get on the stage, I'll tell you my plan, hear your opinions, modify it perhaps and then you'll tell me how much you want..."
Languages: English, Welsh
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Aguirre Efrain Maddox
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Mouse
* * * * *
Aguirre's brow raised slightly at the woman's request. She had no illusions about her societal status, so being asked to discuss instead of blindly taking orders was somewhat of a surprise. She still wasn't daft enough to think the 'you have an opinion' stuff was anything more than a ploy to keep them all hooked, but either way... She supposed they would see soon enough whether this was the case or not. She didn't particularly want to stick around here with such volatile people, but hey; they were going to pay her for her trouble.

"Alrighty, I'll stick around. But I'm outta here if anymore fights start. Ain't nobody got time for that. So.. you should probably keep my phone number."

She glanced around at the others, and instead of taking a seat near them, she chose to remain standing until the meeting came to a close. Easier to dodge incoming furniture that way.
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We are all museums of fear.
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Victoria Scott
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Unbowed. Unbent. Unbroken.
* * * *
She sat next to Aguirre and who she supposed were the other Anarchs, in order not to get involved with that Cammie arselickers. She was late, but could listen to most of George's speech and of course, witness the playground strife. Yeah, better start a pointless fight like monkeys showing their genitals than act like real adults trying to discuss. Did their Sires chose them amongst the stupidest of their reformatory? It was the facet of her clan she loathed the most. Not that she was a pacifist, but senseless brawls made them look like their airheaded cousins of the Sabbat.

The fight ended, and George recovered his turn to speak. So, was he going to summon their strenght non-profit? She couldn't resist to stand up and speak.

"See? That's what I was talking about. Keep throwing shit to each other like rabbid monkeys so the Prince and his fucking Tower can treat us like simple shovelheads." she nearly spitted the words, staring at the stirrers, and then the Primogen "So you're trying to convince me that I ought to put my ass in danger so you politicians can keep siting in your attics with your bohemian glasses of wine without payment, isn't it?"

Shovelheads were all that Jack, herself and everyone in the zealots' clan were to the Washington Camarilla. There was never as much injury in the other clans as there was among the Brujah, and they kept stomping into death without dithering on Vitel's words. Braindead tools of the trade.

"I don't know about you but I won't fill your plates with the blood on my veins like I was a non-profit Sisters of Mercy association, so you better have an interesting plan in hands if you want mines to your cause."

And then sat down again, waiting for the Primogen to speak. She already knew the price she was going to demand.
Edited by Victoria Scott, Sunday, 27. October 2013, 23:34.
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Marceline
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Childe
*
Marceline was close to crying at this point "Yes" she whispered in a harsh tone, in pain, to whoever was offering help to her. At first she tried to resist but eventually stopped, thinking it was going to be for the better. "Take it off please, this hurts way more than it looks like."
"Somewhere to hide to keep me alive- Just keep me alive"
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Ares
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The Soldier
* * *
Ares watches on and looks once more at his watch. He contemplated just telling the Primogen to give him a call after he was done trying to recruit these Anarchs, as it was, he has already weighed them, and in his eyes, he wast so sure how much he trusted or even wanted them watching his back...but he didn't want the Anarchs to get the impression that his getting up and going might give, even if he did say the old man could count him in.

But boy did he want to just get up and go see the city.
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Theme Songs: Your Going Down - Sick Puppies and Night Train - Guns n' Roses
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Jelena
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Anarch Mama Bear
* * * *
Money? He was offering her money? Fuck! Perhaps the prostitution image had stuck but allow him to call her not only a whore but also a cheap one? Ellen closed her eyes. 10, 9, 8... Lucky Gramps, couldn't strangle him! 7, 6, 5... Some pieces around her felt almost inviting. Surely would be good for bashing this fucktard's melon in! 4, 3... Perhaps see how much of this stuff would go in or down his throat? She felt a piece of wood splinter in her grip, tore out a good deal of one of her fingrnails as well, but the pain helped her stay grounded. 2, 1, 0! Finally she found herself able to focus on the situation. No chance she'd leave this mess soon, if only because she didn't want to find herself wanting to kill Gramps again. Then an unfamiliar voice spoke up. "Think she's got a point there, Gramps!"
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