Vampire The Masquerade RPG
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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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Where Lights Can't Chase Us; Nora & Evangelos
Topic Started: Wednesday, 4. September 2013, 00:25 (1,013 Views)
Nora Penvellyn
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Rebel With a Cause
* * * *
The door opened, the door shut. Keys slid into ignition, lights and chimes made her flinch in response to their sudden flashing and ringing. Her ears pricked up cautiously, stretched across the back seat of Espen's sedan, nursing a nasty flesh wound. The ride was smooth and brief, as she listened distantly to the blonde Ventrue's hushed business words seep into the overpriced touch screen of her smartphone and spill it out in Frankie's ear a few blocks away.

"You have ten minutes to find a disposable cocaine cupie doll and a suitable change of clothes for Nora. Both can be found at the Dream, just talk to Harold. He'll let you into the Baron's office to fetch her things. Please don't forget shoes. Ten minutes, Frankie."

The little bird would fly from the nest and bring back a fat, juicy worm for her. Had she been in her flight form, the idea probably would have sounded more appealing.

Espen pulled up to the curb, parking across the street from the entrance. Aguirre opened her door almost in unison with her, in haste to be done with the clusterfuck that had just unraveled all over an empty street in Brent. The wispy Brujah wasted no time opening the rear passenger door, letting the large canine out onto the street, albeit slowly and painfully. There was a limp in it's rear left leg, singed fur and raw, angry burns evidence of the injury she'd taken head on.

"Look after yourself," Aguirre said quietly, shoving her hands in her pockets and looking over to Espen with a thankful nod and a timid smile before turning on her heel and getting the fuck out of dodge. The dog watched the wiry brunette's silhouette fade as she briskly walked towards her apartment a few blocks down the street. She seemed thankful to just be away from all the commotion. It never was quite her style.

"Come along, Hitler."



In the span of twenty minutes, Nora had lost herself in the throes of a twacked out blood doll. Now, she lay drunk off her bloody gluttony on the too stiff expanse of the new sofa that'd been carted in her just a week ago. It'd seen only a handful of asses so far, but her she was stretched out across it and staring up at the ceiling hazily.

In the last hour, she'd managed to take down a dreaded, fire wielding she-beast, suffer third degree burns, still damn near frenzy, make acquaintances with the head of the Giovanni family, drain a junkie, and heal the earlier mentioned wounds. All while naked and part of the time, on all fours. She'd call it a productive evening if she wasn't laying on this sofa, still in her bloody, tattooed, scale patched birthday suit, spun out of her mind. The places it wandered in this state of euphoria were endless. She could only wonder what it was this elusive admirer of hers could have wanted to discuss over drinks, but given the helping hand he'd offered her, she could hardly say no, let alone pass up the chance of sating her curiosity.

Maybe he wants to necrobang you, you dirty bitch!

After a few minutes of laying completely still, Nora swung herself upright, looking at the patched up remains of the makeshift office she'd completely tore apart only a few nights before. Her eyes flitted from one patched hole in the wall to the fresh paint swathed on the walls, the smell still lingering vaguely overhead. All the furniture had been replaced, making it feel unknown to her. She second guessed where she really was for a moment upon adjusting to her amplified surroundings. She got to her feet, crossing the room to the desk, the fresh corpse that was once her well balanced meal of blood and cocaine still slumped in the office chair behind it. A neatly folded stack of clothes rested on it, boots and all, beside a now-cold bowl of water and dish cloth.




Nora emerged from behind the backroom looking a brand new woman in comparison to the state of disarray she'd arrived in. She'd pinned her bangs up and out of her face, thoroughly washed the dirty puddle water out of her hair, and wiped any traces of bloodshed from her skin, flushed from her fresh feeding. There was a sparkle in her outlandishly blue eyes, feeling like she was walking on cloud nine as she drifted to her private booth, sliding onto the plush bench seat with the practiced grace. She donned a black Dropkick Murphy's tee, faded, fitted, and well worn, a pair of dirty wash denim skinny jeans that clung to her figure like a second glove, and loosely laced combat boots. The bullet belt Frankie had given to her months before was snaked snugly around her hips.

And now she waited. For what? Her death? Her next fix? Her next good fuck? Maybe he was all of the above. His compassionate gesture threw her off kilter; she'd never imagined the Giovanni to be the caring type, let alone have any interest in her or her cause. So what did he want? More importantly, what would it cost her?

Nora lost herself in this dangerous train of thought, letting all the possibilities cycle through her head at overwhelming speeds while she waited for him. She hardly noticed the short glass of gin that was placed before her, or the shining silver flask that was accompanying it. Instead, she occupied herself with staring at the dark lacquered partition across from her that boxed her in.
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Evangelos Giovanni
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* * *
[Music: Christina the Astonishing, Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds]

He took his time to ensure that matters back in the ally were taken care of and saw his underlings off to return back home. It didn't take much for him to grab hold of a local spiriti to ask for directions to the Night Tripper. A quaint name, he thought.

Enzo was kind enough to give him a lift to the bar. He stepped out and looked between him and Coco and offered a grin, "Don't wait up." He watched them take their leave as he tugged at his shirt cuffs as he moved to step within the bar.



His brow arched as he made a slow assessment of its insides. A few heads would undoubtedly turn his way. His beast radiating off of him as though his skin were transparent and gave way to the very devil inside. Perhaps his finely cut black suit and white shirt (open at the collar, of course) would lend him some measure of civility.

Curiosity killed the cat. Satisfaction resurrected it. And then the Giovanni bound that bitch and put her to work.

His gaze darkened as his pupils reacted to the lighting before settling upon Nora's form. A grin tugged at the corner of his lips as he moved in her direction.

Slow. Confident. Predatory.

"Fancy meeting you here." He mused with that as he moved to untuck his cigarettes from within the folds of his suit coat.

A cigarette plucked from it and placed between his lips. He languidly lit it, his features illuminated for as the flint was struck and he inhaled the ember tip to life.

"I read them a bedtime story and tucked the kids have been tucked into their beds... You have my..." His gaze dropped to the bullets upon your hips, slowly lifting up your form. "...undivided attention." He exhaled slowly, licking the taste of the tobacco from his lips.
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Nora Penvellyn
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* * * *
The sound of that familiar and indulgent voice of his shook her from her thoughtful stupor, lifting her blue feline gaze to be met with his handsome, features. The same scent she'd practically overdosed on rolled off him and filled her senses when he approached, sending her tickled synapses into a frenzy. He greeted her nonchalantly, lighting a cigarette and lingering where he stood before her. She smiled, this time more genuine and full then the last one she offered him, "I think every poor unfortunate soul in this bar is thinking the same thing about you," She giggled under her breath and gestured to the seat across from her, "Please, sit with me."

The plume of smoke he exhaled was rich and heady with the scent of tobacco. It was one of her nasty habits once, one that she still indulged in on a rare occasion. Was it possible for one human being to make smoking look that sexy? Was he even a human being? She kept these thoughts to herself as she reached beside her, pushing an empty ashtray to the middle of the table. She waved over the server without even looking to catch her attention, too enamored with the creature peering at her from across the table, smothering her with his undivided attention. In such a good way it almost hurt.

"What's your poison?" The server would make quick work of returning with his drink of choice; serving the Baron's guests meant getting it to the table as quickly as fucking possible. She looked at the back of the heads sitting in a row at the bar, and the loners that littered the tables with their books and bottomless stouts. Once they were settled in comfortably, she slid the partition separating them from the rest of the bar shut with one swift glide, "Alone at last," she breathed, letting her eyes roam over his features once more as she unscrewed the small cap off the flask and poured some of the red wired sustenance into her gin.

"So tell me, Don Evangelos Giovanni," She said this with a playful grin, giving him a flash of her large, dog-like incisors, "What brings the head of the London Giovanni to this shit hole of a bar? It can't just be my pretty face." She batted her eyelashes flirtatiously, all fun and games. It was evident she was in a much better mood then she had been over an hour ago. But still, the question remained. What did he want?
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Evangelos Giovanni
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* * *
"I think every poor unfortunate soul in this bar is thinking the same thing about you..."

He grinned with her comment, "Well, I do think unfortunate is really a matter of one's opinion, no?" If one didn't have the honor of doing Augustus' work in life or unlife then at the very least their service in death would have to do.

"Whiskey." He stated to the server before the cigarette was placed between his lips, his gaze squinting slightly from the smoke that languidly wavered up from it, as he unbuttoned his suit coat and moved to take a seat.

He glanced to the server as she set the drinks down. He crossed one long slender leg over the other, drawing an inhalation off of the cigarette as he leaned forward to flick its ashes into the offered ashtray. The cigarette abandoned there as his hand closed around the server's wrist before she could withdraw it.

A feral grin fell on his lips as his thumbnail so easily broke the skin of the server's wrist, his glass of whiskey slid underneath as the crimson droplets fell within almost in time to the server's heart beat. His gaze darkened as he watched the blood and liquor mix, his thumb smoothing over the server's wound and healing it underneath his touch before he released her wrist.

"Gratzie." offered in thanks as his gaze moved back to his present company. Alone at last, indeed. He thought as he plucked up the glass of whiskey, swirling it languidly.

His gaze held Nora with a measure of intrigue through the haze of the lit cigarette between them as she added her own blood to her drink.

"What brings the head of the London Giovanni to this shit hole of a bar? It can't just be my pretty face."

"These nights are long, Baron Nora Penvellyn, surely you cannot fault a man for wanting to surround himself with things of beauty." The fact that Nora could feel his beast so easily with the closeness of his proximity had to make her wonder how much man was left in him. The grin that fell to the corner of his lips shadowed as he gestured in salute with his glass.

"A toast then, Signora...let us not get caught up between the semantics of 'Anarch' and 'Independent' and think of a future ripe with mutual interests and shared profits, Si?" The beast offering a feral glint to his gaze.
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Nora Penvellyn
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* * * *
Nora watched him beneath thick, hooded lashes; being caught in his gaze was like facing off with Medusa, but not nearly as terrible as it sounded. It felt as if she were suspended, him having a ledge and she, bound tightly in his arms, with feet dangling in free fall, down to the Abyss. His grasp was the only thing keeping her from tumbling further down the rabbit hole, yet she was perfectly content with this. On a deep, primal level, she'd already learned to trust him. Her Beast responded to his in a way she hadn't experienced in a very long time. The only other kindred she knew that could evoke these kinds of responses was her Sire... Despite all the fear and spite she harbored for Vry, an innocent part of her still missed him dearly. The nostalgia sank in. Her Beast purred with satisfaction, reverberating in her chest and sending a shiver down her spine in agreement.

Could he be as old as her daddy dearest? Quite possibly. Could he be as batshit fucking insane as him? That was possible too. Was he intimidating? Slightly. There was an edge to his presence that made her all too aware just how much of the upper hand he really had over her. He carried himself with confidence, strength, and power. Was this threatening? Strangely, no. Was it a major turn-on? Yes.

"Yes," She breathed finally, lifting her glass slowly and watching him carefully. His words caused a smirk to tug at the corners of her mouth. Bringing the glass to her lips, she idly took a sip, licking her lips before settling back into her seat to fully look at him. She could get lost in his eyes, not missing that dark spark that burned steadily in the depths of his blue hues. He had a chiseled jaw, strong set shoulders, and long sturdy fingers. The dim lighting caught the surface of his gold family ring as he swirled the contents of his glass in his hand.

"Let us.. speak of mutual interests and shared profits." The smile that played on her lips widened as her gaze raked from his cuff links, over the loose, unbuttoned collar, to be met with his contemplative stare. She cocked her head to the side, lips pursed, "A little bird sang in my ear just the other day of your recent purchase. I hope you find great success with Chase Farm. Now I know why Espen was so fucking pissed four nights ago." She grinned, taking another sip of her drink before setting the glass down on the table and leaning in. His cigarette was poised dubiously between his knuckles, burning slowly, a thin ribbon of smoke swirling upwards in front of him. She watched as she walked her fore and middle fingers across the table, lifting her eyes to see his reaction as she lightly placed her hand over his, and nonchalantly plucking the cigarette from his grasp.

She beamed at him as she sat back and took a long, slow drag. It'd some time since she'd felt such a sensation billow inside her dead lungs. She exhaled slowly, "You were the competition that was always three steps ahead of her. Nicely done. That woman was conceived with a Wall Street stock exchange. I do hope we can come to an agreement of some kind, seeing as your presence is now permanently in my territory. We had a lot resting on the legal ownership of that hospital." She took another short drag before handing it back to him.

"If you've got the sugar, I'll put the cherry on top."
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Evangelos Giovanni
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* * *
His brow arched as his gaze watched her own fingertips move towards his own. The elbow of his jaw flinched with tension as her fingertips touched his own, plucking his cigarette from his grasp. Something about that very gesture. His tongue tracing over his canines.

Up jumped the Devil and he staked his claim...

His gaze dropped to Nora's lips as she inhaled his cigarette. His beast began its slow pacing in the hollow of his ribcage slowly dragging his empty cup against each dead bone.

"Ah yes. Chase Farm. A lovely establishment." He offered a smile with that, his hand smoothing upon his thigh as he gave a thoughtful pause. "My uses for it are specialized. I'm certain there is plenty for both of us to share, if that would soothe any hurt feelings."

"Our fair Prince made it quite clear that any Giovanni business would not be welcomed in his area of domain..." These words spoken without any inclination to tone down his distaste of Alarik Blucher. "He was kind enough to extend a ... what do they call it..." His rings glinting as he his hand lifted in a languid gesture to find the words, "Oyster card... Si... with unlimited travel."

"Fucking cafone...." (trans: Fucking peasants) He would shake his head and hide the grin that fell on his lips by taking another drink of the whiskey. The glass set down with a rather solid clink on the table.

"I almost moved the Giovanni into Anarch territory after I met with him... but then I thought... I'd much rather be right there, under his thumb... a painful reminder to him of all that he will never be."

A thoughtful pause as he leaned forward, his own gesture mimicking your own as he would lazily drag his fingertip down the length of yours before he plucked the cigarette back and took a slow drag from it. "But tell me... My fair Baron, what do you wish to be? ... besides something sickly sweet." A nod to your reference of sugar. Something in his gaze dangling that proverbial carrot before you. Would you bite?
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Nora Penvellyn
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* * * *
"...Seriously?" Nora almost choked on her drink at this, "All they gave you was a fucking bus pass? I thought you all had some bullshit 'Promise' you were supposed to recite during your circle jerks or whatever. Do you even ride the bus?" She scoffed, looking to Evangelos with a mixture of disbelief and amusement. Her contemplative gaze shifted from his face to his glass... back up to his face, and just as quickly back down to the whiskey swirling around in his glass.

His finger dragged down the length of her own before plucking the cigarette from her fingers, before asking her a question she wasn't quite sure how to answer. The act itself was distracting enough to draw a blank. She slid the partition open, flooding their private box with light and stale air as she slid out of her seat, "I'll be right back," she breathed, disappearing into the back room and returning a few minutes later with a black box tucked under her arm. She set it before him on the table, taking the time to carefully open it and pull out the pristine fifty year old bottle of scotch nestled inside and present to him. She smiled proudly, "Consider this a proper housewarming gift, from me to you. It's MacPhail's Scotch... Distilled in 1940 and worth a hell of a lot more than any fucking Oyster card... I still can't believe that. We're in fucking London, for fuck's sake."

Taking her seat once more, she peered at the bottle thoughtfully, "As for what I want to be..." She looked down to the glass in her hands again.

"Clean."

Nora said this resolutely, so sure of what it was that she wanted, but too embarrassed to look him in the eyes upon admitting her problem. Would he even understand what she meant by that? Did he have the slightest inclination? Who knew. All she knew is that she just admitted to being an addict. She admitted to being nothing but a dirty, coke-loving whore. She slowly slid the partition shut once more, restoring a semblance of privacy to the otherwise personal conversation.

"I'm an addict. Or my Beast is. Maybe we both are, who fucking knows..." She swallowed a lump in her throat, still refusing to make eye contact, "But I was high as a fucking kite when I met Death the first time, and have been ever since... I wish could kick it for good," she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, finally lifting her eyes to meet his, "But that's not an option." She smiled sadly, laying her hands flat on the table, "I'm not nearly as sweet as I smell, promise."
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"Do you even ride the bus?" She scoffed, looking to Evangelos with a mixture of disbelief and amusement.

He chuckled softly under his breath at her inquiry. "The Giovanni ride many things, bella, but I can assure you that a bus is not one of them." For fuck's sake, really.

His hand lifted to dismiss it all, "That should give you an indication of exactly how well that meeting went..."

He nodded to her she mentioned she'd be right back and would take her leave. He pulled a final drag from the cigarette before he snubbed out its remains. He couldn't explain all of this, really. But there were just some that he connected with. An unspoken kinship of sorts. These were far and few in between in these long nights. Even farther and few in between were the amount of times that he had been caught pleasantly surprised with those that he met. The Lady Fate has her way of reminding him not to fall to stereotypes.

His thoughts broken as she returned to take her seat, his gaze dropping to the black box as she carefully opened it and presented the gift.

He gently removed the bottle from its package and set it on the table between them. His slender fingertip tracing the outline of the bottle, tapping upon its sealed cork. "You had me at 'draining Charlie Sheen.'" A glint to his gaze as he offered her a devious smile while quoting her very first words to him back to her. The grin gave way to a soft chuckle, "I am honored to receive it. Thank you."

The privacy of the booth reminded him of the confessionals within the Vatican as he sensed the shift in Nora's emotions. His gaze seemed to follow hers to the glass she held in her hands.

"Clean."

Admitting one's weaknesses and flaws was particularly difficult. He had some of his own and he still battles with them from time to time. He was humbled by this revelation.

His mind putting two together as he had noticed the confused spiriti through the veil of the shadowlands stumble out of the bar, yelling at the others in a state of delirium, "Am I dead? Am I dead?"

Given the matters at hand, he opted not to interfere with it. The Night Tripper holding an even more dilapidated visage in the lands of the dead. He always took some time to assess these things as he still came to know London.

He slid the bottle to the side and reached forward to remove the glass from her hand. His own touch, cool as he enveloped her hands between both of his palms. His thumb pressing in gently against the center of each of Nora's palms. Still that strange healing energy emanating from him as he listened to her go on in more detail.

"But that's not an option."

His brow furrowed a bit in thought with this. "I don't believe that it's not an option... Surely an addiction holds the same properties as one might have with a blood bond... and even those can be broken with enough will and time." It would be an interesting thing to study, he admitted to himself in thought.

"I'm not nearly as sweet as I smell, promise."

He grinned at her comment. His beast pulling his voice down into those darkened timbers as he answered simply, "Good."

His hands still held her. It had been a long time since he had shared such a simple, basic touch and it suited him.

"Well, my fair Baron... Given that you already know of the Promise, not to mention a proper whiskey... It has shown me that you have brains. You exposed to me a flaw that speaks to your innermost beauty. Your people respect you and you demonstrate admirable leadership qualities over them."

He paused thoughtfully as he would let that sink in. "All of these things, I find quite... admirable... if not attractive. And while I realize we have only just met this evening, I would extend to you the offer of an amicable partnership between the Anarchs and the Giovanni.

The Anarchs have a history here. Numbers. The Giovanni have resources. Together, I believe we could mutually benefit from what we each bring to the table."


He was impulsed to offer to help her with her addiction. But this would come in time, he thought. It wouldn't serve him well to put all his cards on the table at once. This still could very well not prove to be as fruitful as he would like.

His brow arched slightly in question as he set that proposal on the table. Wanting to get a feel for what she thought of it before he would embellish upon it further.
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Nora Penvellyn
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* * * *
His touch startled her, setting her on edge as he cradled her hands between his and pressed the pads of his thumbs gently into the center of her palms. It felt like a shot of cold water getting banged into her veins. She could feel him, as if his fingers were sinking into beneath her skin and tickling her nerves. The peace that was settling in her core filled her with a sense of tranquility, relaxing and responding to his touch as her eyes slowly closed. She sucked in a short breath, and in those few seconds that he held her there, she felt weightless. Like a feather floating in the air.

Nora opened her eyes, exhaling shakily, eyeing Evangelos carefully. Not only could she feel his Beast in her bones, but she could hear it in the deep nuances of his voice, and see it in the dark glint that haunted his eyes. She hung onto his every word. Was she really hearing this right? He was offering her a partnership? An alliance?

Was he fucking high?

Or was he being serious? She almost couldn't believe him, and she'd heard it all come straight from his mouth; watched his lips, tongue, and teeth form every word. There was so much to process. She simply stared at him, unable to form thoughts or words.

"I... I'm flattered. Truly." She could figure out where to begin, getting lost in his gaze again, trying to read every fleck of blue like the pages of a book. It was like trying to read hieroglyphs. "It'd be a thing of beauty, our union. So why rush it?" She slowly withdrew her hands from him, letting them fall into her lap so that she could tangle her fingers together anxiously under the table as she spoke, "I want to know you, all of you. I want to trust you. I want to understand this..." She made a gesture suggesting them together, "Whatever this is. Let me meet your family, and learn about your kind... And if we haven't killed each other by then... Than we'll discuss this again more intimately."

She couldn't make such a big decision without having an idea of what the rest of her lot would think of it. Did they want allies? Or did they want to be left to live out the rest of their nights wallowing in a shitty bar in the North of London? It wasn't one she could make lightly. She needed time. Time to study him as he'd been studying her all evening. Time to learn what put a smile like the one he was giving her now on his face, what pissed him the fuck off...what made him tick.

"Does that sound fair?"

She didn't even let herself begin to think of the possibilities of breaking her habit. She couldn't bear to get her hopes up only to fail again. What he said...it made sense, but the idea of suffering those withdrawals brought painful memories to the fore. Maybe they wouldn't have to be painful anymore.
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Evangelos Giovanni
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She was a smart cookie. His gaze watched her hands slink away from his before his gaze returned to meet her own. Yes. There was a lot to process here. Even he could admit that to himself.

He nodded as she inquired of the fairness of her counter proposal. "Si. Of course." The logic behind this was completely undeniable in his mind. But she was right. There was far more on the table here than just the both of them... well, the table would have been one of the places were it just the two of them.

He reached into the folds of his suit coat and withdrew his business card and a pen. He turned the card over, "my direct line." He offered to her as he wrote his number on it. The pen returned to his inner pocket as he slid the card across the table to her.

"The Giovanni have been invited to attend Signore Blucher's... coronation on [insert date]." That said quite dryly as he gave you that look. He had a certain disdain for pomp and circumstance when it wasn't due and he wasn't certain that it was in the case of Mr. Blucher. "Let me know if you are free." He couldn't help the grin that fell on his lips. Did he just offer you to arrive on the arm of the Giovanni Don? He sure as fuck did.

His hands reached forward as he gently would re-package the bottle of Scotch into it's gift box. "Its been a long night... I shouldn't keep you..."
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Nora Penvellyn
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* * * *
Looking between the card on the table and his face, the expression he wore while speaking of this coronation was amusing to say the least, or devoid of amusement in his case. Nora giggled lightly and shifted in her seat, pulling her legs up to her chest and resting her head on the crook of her knees, "I wouldn't miss it for the world," She whispered, a smile warming her features as her hand snaked up to take the card he offered and tucked it in the confines of her tits.

She could only imagine the reactions that would be plastered on those dusty old pricks' faces upon seeing the Don of the Giovanni family stroll in with the Baron on his arm. The thought alone only brought more snickering.

"It's been a long night... I shouldn't keep you..."

"No!" Nora practically jumped out of her skin at the mention of parting ways, "What I meant to say was..." She chewed on her lip, trying to find a good reason to keep him from leaving just yet. Her eyes strayed to the door on the back wall, "You should." She said finally, her eyes coming back to rest on his handsome features again, "Keep me, I mean. Otherwise every junkie this side of the Thames' lives will be at stake." She grinned, smoothing her hand across the table again and snatching her glass back, lifting it to her lips and taking another drink.

"Would you really leave so many innocent lives in danger of the Reaping?" She asked this with a deep, ominous, and overly exaggerated tone, tapping into her flair for the dramatics some. She smirked; he had no idea how much truth was really in that statement.
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Evangelos Giovanni
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(Apologies in advance for the lack of formatting since I'm on my iPad!)

He has about to push his west from his seat as she offered up the resounding objection to his suggested departure. He rose anyways and pushed the sliding door to the side as the rest of the bars insides revealed itself to their senses.

He swept up the box of Scotch and tucked it under his arm before his free arm extended itself to her. He offered her his hand, "Well, I would hate to not take up my civic duty when it presented with an opportunity to do so."

"Perhaps some fresh air and a change of scenery?" He gestured towards the door with a nod. "I trust you have the necessary skills to give me a proper tour?"

There was a glint to his gaze, "At the very least we can use my... bus pass, no?"

He had to admit, the local Camarilla sure was good at providing plenty to laugh about.
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Nora Penvellyn
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Rebel With a Cause
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Nora laughed and took his offered hand, "We can give it a whirl if you'd like." She slid out of her seat, letting her slim fingers clasp around his lightly. Moving towards the door, there was no looking back as she pushed it open with her newly found companion in tow and was greeted with the balmy summer night air. It felt thick in her lungs as she breathed it in, as if she'd just taken a serious rip off a bong in her college days. Looking to Evangelos thoughtfully, and peering down both ends of the street, she wondered where to lead him. There were all kinds of different tours she could take him on...

"I'll be honest though, the doubledeckers aren't nearly as fun unless you're this tall," She leveled her hand below her hip, a fond memory of her childhood coming to mind when she was in fact that tall. It was the first day she could remember fully of seeing London. Her mother kept her entertained with the bus rides through the city as she window shopped for Christmas gifts.

Her grasp tightened as she began walking down the street, towards the Dream, "That's our other haunt, just there. The Dream. I have a fancy office with no view whatsoever there. It's not as dreamy as it sounds." She laughed as they kept on, pointing down the alley just beside it, "And on your right you'll see a rather disease ridden looking dumpster. A lot of bookies and lowlifes met their maker behind it." She said this rather nonchalantly, "But that was before I had the luxury of that fancy office I was telling you about."

They walked for quite some time with no destination in particular, pointing out different places with menial stories behind them as they passed. Her time in the North wasn't as rich with experiences as the memories she had the in the East. Sometimes she was grateful she didn't have the constant reminder of the shit she left behind there every waking moment, but most of the time she just missed what they use to be to her.

"So, what's your favorite color?"
She asked the question wistfully. What better way to get to know a person then by simply asking questions? It showed interest and made for interesting conversation. That and she just liked asking questions.

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Evangelos Giovanni
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* * *
He grinned as Nora pointed out the dumpster. Pausing there in step, "Un momento, bella." He drew in a breath as he focused on those gifts that made him who he was.

[Necromancy/Sepulchre/Summon Soul] [Necromancy/Ash/Shroudsight] His pupils seemed to darken slightly as his blood willed his vision to see through the shroud that separated the living and the dead. "Vincenzo." His voice compelled the spirit's presence, though this wouldn't be apparent to Nora.

His touch released her hand for a moment as he untucked the bottle of Scotch he so delicately held under his arm. The wraith appeared before him with a bow. [Necromancy/Ash/Dead Hand] His hand reached out towards the wraith with the box. To others, his hand would seem to disappear up to his wrist, the box along with it.

He handed it to the wraith, "Put this in my study." The wraith grinned, his boney hand rubbing over the box. "Untouched." Evangelos added.

The wraith nodded and would look to Nora with a mute curiosity. "Go." Evan commanded him, his gaze narrowing in challenge. Nora would he hair on the back of her neck rise instinctually. A brush of coolness alongside her as the wraith drew past.

His hand pulled back through the shroud as he took a moment and adjusted his cuff links. He looked to Nora and grinned as he threaded her arm through his and would continue to walk with her on this tour.

"Better." He said. His free hand smoothing over hers upon his arm. These old fashioned gestures a sign of his upbringing that still became him so easily in these modern nights.

Was he showing off? Maybe. But in all honesty, there were not many who lived to see much of what Necromancers were really capable of... And lived to tell.

"The Dream." Interesting. "You'll have to show me sometime." He grinned, something devious to that. Quietly challenging.

When Nora inquired of his favorite color, he hummed thoughtfully. "Well, that's a question I haven't been asked..... For a long time." He laughed softly. "Red. Si."

"And you?" His brow arched in question as he offered her a side-glance.
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Nora Penvellyn
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Nora watched him with a curiously quirked brow as he broke away from her and stepped towards the supposed wayward alley of condemned souls. She had no idea it was apparently just that; she'd never muddled with the 'other side' or even given it much thought. He was speaking to something, that much she could tell, straining her ears to listen to him but seeing nothing... until he reached out with the bottle of scotch in hand and both disappeared in thin air.

That... That was something.

She stared as this transpired with a bewildered expression, clearly saying 'what the fucking fuck?' over and over in her head. A sudden chill brushing over her bare skin sent a chill down her spine, frozen in her tracks as Evangelos turned back to her with a wolfish grin. He threaded his arm with hers and smoothed his hand over her own, willing them to continue walking. Better. Maybe for you...

One could only wonder what the fuck she'd just witnessed. Did he have an invisible haunted liquor cabinet in tow? Or perhaps an invisible Mary Poppin's satchel?

A red satchel.

Nora giggled under her breath and glanced to him as they walked, "Green... which is ironic, I guess... I'm apparently rage personified." She laughed, looking down at her hand resting casually on his arm, the shining cuff links that adorned his wrist, and their feet moving in synchronization with each other.

"So..." She started, patting his arm, "Do you have a ghostly pack mule that follows you about and carries your things or are you simply a very talented magician?" She looked up to him, genuine curiosity lighting up her eyes and an equally genuine smile lighting up her face.
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"Rage has a time and place." His answer simple, but logical in his own mind. "Though the line between rage and the best is a fine line... and you can often end up on the wrong side of it if you aren't careful, hmm?" He arched a brow as he looked to her and offered a smile.

That smile melted into a genuine laugh as she asked about the ghostly mule. "No, it's just Vincenzo... he works for me... but that doesn't mean that he isn't an ass from time to time." He chuckled with that.

"Let me show you what you're missing..." He offered a reassuring squeeze to her hand as he let it slip from his arm, moving slowly to step behind her. Where he actually breathing she'd feel his breath upon her skin, hovering there just over her collar bone as he took in her scent.

His arms wrapped around her in a protective, if not encompassing gesture. The spiriti didn't like being put on display for the living or the unloving. Either way, we had what they wanted and more often than not, that lent itself to problems.

"And now for my next trick..." He repeated the words echoed by so many magicians in a near whisper into her ear. His beast tainting the edge of those words. His canines ached in his jaw as he toyed with its own will being so close to her here... doing what he was ultimately born to do. [Necromancy/Ash Path/Shroud Mastery]

He focused then upon the shroud, his beast nearly purring within his chest as he willed the shroud that separated the both of them from the lands of the dead. Slowly, the surroundings as Nora would normally knew it would blur and become transposed.

The sounds of the deadlands were muted, the shroud only thinned and not fully dropped. Though every now and then they'd hear the howls of the wind, the moans of the damned more keenly upon their senses.

The buildings here within the shroud were far more dilapidated than they appeared to the lands of the living. A few wraiths seemed to be milling about. As they became aware of him... of her... they would turn and look. Curious. Confused.

The spirit looked as if they had in life... their clothes perhaps a bit more torn. Their visages pale and deathly.

"See what you're missing..." His words still a whisper into her ear as he keep his gaze locked on the wraiths that were about while lingering so close to her. His nose brushing against the elbow of your jaw.

A young wraith, a man appearing to be in his early twenties seemed to draw closer. Needles still sticking limply out of the blackened veins of his arm. [Necromancy/Sepulchre Path/Compel Soul] Evan lifted a hand towards the spiriti in a gesture for it to stop and it did.

He wondered if you were brave enough to handle such visions. Were you to spend any significant time around him, you would have to get used to it.
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Nora Penvellyn
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* * * *
"They don't call me Rage Face for no reason," She chuckled, listening to his words as they walked. She wondered how old he was, how many frenzies he'd weathered in his years. He spoke the truth, but that kind of logic didn't seem to apply anywhere in her character. Careful? What did that word even mean? Nora laughed out loud, probably not the response he was wanting considering the vague depth within the topic of discussion. "I end up on the wrong side every time." She said this resolutely. She'd learned to live with the Beast that she shared this body with a long time ago. He gave her a smile despite all this though, and she warmly returned it with one of her own.

Vincenzo? As in... there was an invisible person doing his bidding? A ghost? His abilities were beyond her; Vry had only mentioned the Giovanni in passing, the only knowledge he really passed on being to stay the fuck away from them. Listening was never one of her strong suits, though, and to him especially.

"Let me show you what you're missing..."

Something about that set her on edge as he squeezed her hand and moved to stand behind her. What was there to be missed? She knew these parts like the back of her hand. She knew every brick, every crack in the pavement... This place had become her second home, so what could there possibly be that she didn't already know about. Her Beast didn't seem to like it either, drowsily waking from it's slumber and sniffing the air cautiously. The protective embrace of her counterpart didn't seem to help the suspicious anxiety that was settling in her bones; this didn't feel like an affectionate snuggle... more like a flight precaution.

"And now for my next trick..."

His voice was a strange comfort... but she could feel it. His Beast... The sudden shift in the still night air... All of it. A soft gasp escaped her as she watched her surroundings practically melt and dissolve before her very eyes. Everything looked old, abandoned, and forgotten in this... what was this place? Did he just open a portal to another dimension or something? This realm was nothing like what she'd known it as, yet it was all the same. The skeletal remains of the North weren't nearly as appealing.

The silence engulfed them, her ears ringing uncomfortably. She was completely still, wide eyes roaming over the ghostly plane he'd revealed to her. The subtle, undeniable sounds of pained moans and groans haunted her eardrums, barely there... but there all the same. It made the presence of the unknown... entities, for lack of a better paranormal term, that were wandering aimlessly at a distance that much more unsettling. They were apparently as aware of her as she was of them. Her hands instinctively found his arms wrapped around her, needing something tangible to hold onto, to remind her that this was all real. She held his embrace tightly against her. She was curious as she was wary.

"See what you're missing..."

Nora clung to his presence like a vice, his light nuzzling sending a shiver down her spine as he whispered in her ear. She watched what looked to be just a normal person approach them, but as he drew nearer, she recognized that same deathly pale complexion... and those track marks. Her Beast's hackles were raised, but outwardly, all she could do was stare at him with uncertainty of what exactly she was even staring at. Evangelos halted him, and her grip on his arm tightened considerably.

Her eyes were glued to the rigs jutting out of his forearm, the crooks of her arms and forearms aching with phantom pains of her own old track marks. Was he dead? Did he shoot too much? What was his poison? She was suddenly morbidly curious about him.

"What... is he?" She breathed, finding her own voice finally, though barely above a whisper, "And why is he here?"
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Evangelos Giovanni
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Nora wouldn't see the feral smile that fell on his lips as he sensed her curiosity at the wraith that seemed to loom before them. His visage seemed to fade and surge back and forth with a certain pulse as it fed off of the emotions that it could glean from its side of the veil.

"It is a spiriti, bella. A ... ghost." His gaze narrowed slightly as he watched it. He could compel it but honestly, this was perhaps enough of a demonstration for one night. He didn't know its name and in order to effectively command it he needed to have a piece of it or some personal effect.

"He could be here for any number of reasons. An emotional attachment... perhaps some unfinished business."

Again, that willing of his blood as he thickened the shroud. It slowly would fade from view of the skin lands as he did so. "Perhaps we can ask him more on another night if he still remains..."

His gentle hold of her lessened, his hands moving to smooth down her arms in a gentle squeeze before he would fall into place next to her. "I would hate to use all my parlor tricks in one night... surely then you would have no use for me." He offered Nora a wink as he then offered her his arm to continue their walk.

Ever the scholar, he inquired of the experience. "How did that make you feel? Perhaps a bit daunting at first... when you see what it is really like on the other side." A statement not so much of what she might have honestly felt, but what most had to say about it.

"Death is only the beginning, you see... there is so much that awaits us." He had no fear of death, or final death, as it now is in his current condition. His robes already hung in wait as Rorius dreamed of the day when the Reaper's boney hands would glide Evangelos across the river Styx.
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Nora Penvellyn
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She could feel gravity set in once more as the world around them returned to it's former muted hustle and bustle of the early morning hours. Every sound, smell, and shadow seemed a little more light and joyful compared to the wasteland Evan had shown her. What was that place? Was it really the other side? The in-between?

She smiled to him weakly, warily threading her arm with his and continuing their walking and talking, "Have no fear, I'm sure I could find plenty of uses for you," she patted his arm reassuringly, her smile getting just a little brighter, "You're not the only one with tricks up their sleeve."

How did all that make her feel? Suddenly she felt the need to lay down in the middle of the road and talk about feelings and regrets of their past life while waiting for an unsuspecting motorist to run their sorry asses over. Daunting was putting the calamity of emotions she'd experienced nicely. It was more like a myriad of terror, morbid curiosity, mental exhaustion trying to understand what the fuck was really going on. Her eyes couldn't unsee what she saw no less then her ears could unhear what she heard.

"Sleepless," she started, glancing up to him and meeting his strikingly blue gaze. "I felt like I'd been awake for hours, days, maybe even weeks... and every time I closed my eyes, I thought it'd disappear again." She licked her lips and sucked in a breath, her hand sliding down the length of his arm to lace her long, slim fingers with his, "But it didn't."

"Have you ever had a dream that wasn't good or bad? Just... there. It was like that. Trapped between the horrors of reality and the wonders of the unknown... Something like that." She sounded detached, caught in thought between the nightmares that haunted the darkest corners of her mind and the want to know the unknown. She didn't even know that whatever the fuck she just saw even existed, let alone that it could be tapped into and manipulated.

She looked up to him again, studying his features more closely. He was a different breed of man; older, experienced, accomplished, and hot as fuck at that. She still couldn't be sure how old he really was, but he had to be close to Vry's age. She was so sure of it, she could practically taste that same antiquated musk roll off him. He smelled like cigarettes and books, and she loved how it sent her senses into a frenzy every time she lingered near him and breathed.

"We all know Death isn't the end...obviously. But.. what was that place?"
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Evangelos Giovanni
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"Oh, I have no doubt that you don't have a few tricks of your own, bella." He offered her a grin as she fell into step again next to him, her fingers entertwining with his own. It was a touch that he hadn't shared with another in a long time and he found it rather enjoyable as it was now shared with her.

His gaze narrowed thoughtfully as he regarded Nora's questioning of a certain dream state. Of this being stuck in between a reality and the unknown. The only parallel he could draw from was perhaps the time that he had been staked by his sire. Alas, that's a pretty heavy topic for one to explore this evening so soon in their... relationship, he thought.

"I have experienced this... state... a time or two." He walked in silence then for a moment. His senses taking in their surroundings. His tongue ran over the back of a canine as he couldn't help the devious grin that curled upon the corner of his lips. His gaze fell to you, the beast lurking so close under his flawless exterior.

Compared to most, you handled the experience well. And that held a measure of weight with him.

"The shadowlands." He answered simply to your final question. His hand fingers uncurled from your own, lifting your hand to the crook of his arm where he let his palm smooth over yours and rest upon it.

His touch still holding that certain tingle of his touch [Healing Touch]. "It is where the restless dead wander... not so far from the living they so envy." Of course, he was in his own mind their very savior. Bringing them a sense of peace if not purpose as he willed the goals and machinations of the family upon them. They were, of course, a means to a very important end.

"And what of your tricks, dear Baron?" His gaze fell to Nora with that subtle challenging arch of his eyebrow.
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