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| Strawberry fields; -Open- | |
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| Topic Started: Wednesday, 25. September 2013, 21:46 (3,136 Views) | |
| Mac | Wednesday, 25. September 2013, 21:46 Post #1 |
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Goddess of Fuck and War
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It had been a bit of a clusterfuck of a ... life time? She'd like to think week, but it really just seemed like any other ridiculos week in the life of Mac. She needed a time out for the insanity of it, she couldn't so be -on- all the fucking time. Course, she could -never- turn it off completely either. So she did what she did when she needed to fuck out of the world for a while, to get her shit together in her head space. A joint was pressed loosely between her lips, mixed with blue sage so that it produced a sort of earthy smell between the herbs. She was wearing a tight black wife beater, that showed off the tattoo's across her chest beautifully, tops of her perky fakies sticking out with absolutely no shame. She wore her usual jeans, the most comfortable thing she owned. They hugged her ass tight, but were loose down the legs enough to hide her arensal beneath. Her long dreads hit the stairs she was sitting on, and spilled about around her wildly. An old and withered electric guitar was across her lap, and she was strumming each string and adjusting for tune until she thought it was just about on. It was plugged into a small amp, which was then plugged into an extension chord coming out of the building behind her. People probably thought she lived there, but they were -wrong-. She struck a few chords, testing it out. Yeah, that was about right. She took another long drag from her joint, and then began strumming out the tune she'd had stuck in her head. A huge plate of bacon sat on the stairs next to her, two pounds of crispy deliciousness with her usual battered and shit beaten flask opened and almost full of the 96% Polish Vodka she was partial too. It wasn't that it tasted good, it was that it was cheap and effective. Strawberry Fields Forever - the Beatles Edited by Mac, Thursday, 26. September 2013, 03:36.
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| Mac | Thursday, 26. September 2013, 18:35 Post #2 |
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Goddess of Fuck and War
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She was good with a guitar, not all mighty talented like the heroes of Rock and Roll she worshipped, but she'd been playing since she was 17. The amp wasn't turned all the way up, it was set at a moderate level. Those in the nearby buildings probably wouldn't be her best friend, but it was early in the night and she doubted the police would be called. If they showed up? Well, she could always just set them on fire and bolt. Or talk her way out of it. Whatever she felt like at the time. Long fingers played smoothly, and she sang softly under her breath, but the sound was washed away by the guitar. She wished she could really let go, like she used to when she was younger, tune the rest of the world out and really get -comfortable- and uncaring, but the dogged creature within was still on alert for those on the street. For Mac, this was probably as welcoming as it got. She was used to the idiot hippies that gathered for shit like this, the 'open jam' sessions. While she couldn't stand most of their free love talking, she did enjoy the way you could simply sit down in their music circle and play. Funny that she actually felt like she sorta missed their stupid, non showering, granola asses now that she had ditched the group, they filled that musical need in her. Her chin bobbed with the rhythm of the music, shoulders getting into it with a movement that hinted to the predatory grace of the Hunter within. She wasn't even scowling, her face relaxed with the music. She was naturally rather good looking, infact, the girl was down right gorgeous, although most of the time people couldn't tell because she threw such a menacing grimance that they just wanted to flee across the road. When the song ended, she let go of her fretting hand to reach down and snag a piece of bacon, chowing down like it was chips. Fuck yeah, BACON! It had been a while since she'd been able to eat solid food, whatever the fuck had poisoned her in the Barons fangs had her insides in knots for days. She had managed to force herself out of the sober state easily enough, but her stomach had been pretty much against eating for a long while. She supposed she should have tried something lighter, like ... vegetables... but that was shit she didn't like to eat. She had managed potatoes, at least those could be fried or laden with butter. Then she'd actually choked down -fish-... but finally, her stomach had settled back to the bacon and steak diet she prefered. It took a few moments to savor the delicious, rich, thick bacon in her mouth. She chewed and chewed with rather obviously enjoyment, then washed it down with more Vodka. After the Vodka, she went back to playing. The streets were eerily quiet and empty, even for Einfeld and she wondered what the fuck was happening out there. Then she moved on, to her own interpretation of another Classic Rock song. Light my Fire - Metal Mash Up Edited by Mac, Thursday, 26. September 2013, 20:41.
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| Aguirre Efrain Maddox | Friday, 27. September 2013, 03:54 Post #3 |
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Music floating through the night air was nice, something she didn't normally hear when out walking in Enfield. Aguirre didn't have any plans tonight, but everyone else must have been fairly busy, because she couldn't get them on the phone. Church was a notorious failure when it came to answering calls and her Nosferatu counterpart was busy in the warrens, though at least he offered to make up for it tomorrow. That whole thing.. was confusing. Sawyer had quickly embedded himself in her life, and she wasn't sure how to deal with not having him around to participate in or facilitate some shenanigans. It'd been a while since she was able to just breathe for a little while and left her feeling restless. She'd thought about sneaking into a movie or something like when she was a kid, but it would be no fun to go alone when it was clearly far more fun with him laughing at her in the background for tripping over her own two feet. Church was gone by the time Aguirre arose from her deep sleep; she felt content with life at the moment, safe in the fact that despite being a bit soft she was able to take care of herself. Maybe not real effectively, as she realized very recently while trekking home under a blanket of mud from the construction area down the road, but enough to survive. Speak of the goddamn devil. The Brujah rounded the corner, and immediately into sight came the hulking form of the Amazonian who only nights flattened her, smooched her, and proceeded to brawl with her rabid German shepherd of a roommate. Heck though, it'd been a pretty good fight to watch, and though her pride was severely wounded she had come out of that night with less of an urge to shoot Mac than before. The smell of sage and skunk made her grin slightly, reminding her an awful lot of her college days. Aguirre stopped before Mac, enjoying the heavy rendition of one of her favorite songs enough to toss a crumpled fiver into the battered guitar case at the foot of the steps. The willowy woman was dressed in tom boy chique, plaid boxers peaking out of baggy black jeans with a polka dotted navy blue and white tank top to top it off. Her long mop of hair hung over her shoulders in thick sheets. She would wait for the song to end before saying simply, a crooked, timid smile on her features, "Hey." Edited by Aguirre Efrain Maddox, Friday, 27. September 2013, 04:11.
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| Mac | Friday, 27. September 2013, 04:26 Post #4 |
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Goddess of Fuck and War
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She knew Aguirre was coming before the girl was around the corner, she recognized the sound of her steps in what was the girls traditional -boots-. Always boots, why? Mac almost always wore sneakers, unless a real hard core Hunt was going down, then she went for military boots. No one wanted a huge nail, or glass, or other horror up through the foot. She took a long slow drag from the joint between her lips as the girls foot steps got closer, eyes slipping in Aguirre's direction as she came closer. A quick exhail through her nose caused the smoke to barrel out like an angry dragon, a rather wide grin on her face as she slid her hands along the strings in a reverberating slide finish. She took note of the fluttering five pound note into her guitar case, hmm, that wasn't the intention but meh, she'd take it. She took the joint out of her mouth, taking a short little puff and offering it up to Aguirre. Vampires couldn't get high by smoking, their lungs didn't really work like that anymore, but some of them liked the action anyways. It was comforting or something. What that something was she didnt really know, and she had no intentions of finding out. She fucking -loved- being alive, afterall, the bacon?! She then reached for more of that delicious plate of bacon on the steps with her, breaking a crispy slice in half and stuffing it in her mouth. She wasn't afraid of Aguirre at all, but she had -thought- the woman was more afraid of her? Maybe it was Church that made her all brave, he did lay the law on attacking Aguirre. Course, it's not like she listened to anyone else when it came to doing shit she wanted to do. Or maybe Aguirre had more spine than she had assumed, which was A-Okay in her books really. "Hey Chica, got a request?" Edited by Mac, Friday, 27. September 2013, 04:26.
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| Aguirre Efrain Maddox | Friday, 27. September 2013, 21:32 Post #5 |
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"You got pretty good taste all on your own, why don't you pick?" The offer of the spliff--that was like the ultimate peace offering, and while she knew it wouldn't do anything for her to simply smoke off of it, she took a short puff anyway before pinching it between her fingers again and handing it back. One didn't simply refuse the peace pipe. Besides, it was a taste that hadn't graced her senses in a very long time. "You mind if I sit?" she asked, though she would pop down onto the step below Mac with her back against the railing anyway. Aguirre was intimidated by the gargantuan woman, sure, but she couldn't afford to be on bad terms with someone Church seemed to enjoy punching so much. After all, that was one of the only ways he knew how to show affection between the sarcasm and the quality time spent watching old action flicks. And anyway, we all live in the god damn place. Why not try to get along? The Brujah would enjoy whatever Mac decided to play, if anything at all. This was an opportunity to at least get on good terms with the ghoul, if nothing else. |
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| Mac | Friday, 27. September 2013, 21:56 Post #6 |
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Goddess of Fuck and War
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"Alright then." In response to Aguirre's offer for her to pick the next song. She rang through a few inside that thick old skull of hers, hand searching for her Vodka and bringing the flask up to her pointed lips. Ahhhh yeah, the taste of Vodka and skunk was beautiful together, the weed aiding in 'chilling' her enough to be a fucking civilized person. She didn't wreak of booze like she usually did, she only sorta smelled like it... She was supplementing really, and the Mary Jane seemed to make her a lot more pleasant than the booze alone was capable of, but kept her from that horrible state of soberness that she sought to keep herself from experiencing. "I don't own these steps, sit that fine ass down Sweet Heart." She took her spliff back, placing it between her lips and taking a long slow drag. She liked a -long- smoke, which is why she had it mixed with so much sage. It meant she could enjoy it longer without losing her fucking brain, because she could never get entirely fucked up, not out in public with so many fangers wandering the streets. Aguirre however, didn't set off her fanger alarms like some others did. She felt perfectly at ease with the girl next to her, which was fucked up considering the things she had done to Aguirre. "Coulda have sworn you promised to shoot me?" She grinned, deciding to poke the dragon. She couldn't help it, even weed couldn't take away that need to tease and badger, although she tried to make this humorous for both of them this time instead of just herself. "If you're not going to shoot me, close the guitar case and bang it like a drum. My mama taught me this one." She'd learned to play drums on just about anything, fuck, she could drum on her own ass and thighs if she needed to. She needed some drums to go with this next one for sure, so she'd saddle up poor unsuspecting Aguirre with that with a grin. She reached down into the guitar case first though, and brought out her clip on Capo to alter the sound of her guitar. She was going for a more basey tone for this, and clipped it on and then adjusted the tuning just a little before beginning to strum into Sympathy for the Devil. She sang with it too, all the words memorized since she was less than could be counted on one hand. Maybe this song had something to do with the way she grew up so fucked up, or maybe it was just a related to the shit hole that had been her childhood. Who knew, but she loved it. Her voice wasn't the greatest, by no means professional, but music was in her bones and she could sing well enough not to get told to STFU by anyone. Course, who would tell a gorgeous amazon woman like that to shut the fuck up anyways? Someone who wanted a punch probably. Edited by Mac, Friday, 27. September 2013, 21:57.
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| Dawid Prazmowski | Friday, 27. September 2013, 22:21 Post #7 |
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The life of Dawid Prazmowski was one of ever-increasing complications. He'd been ordered by his Mistress back on the old continent to help the Ventrue Whip (who was now, unknown to him, the Prince of London) to recover an ancient artefact, that was to be given over to the Tremere Primogen. (Who, also unknown to him, had left London since then.) This mission was complicated by the fact that the Giovanni Don of London had ordered (in fact, Dominated) him to steal this artefact once it was recovered, and then to deliver it to the Giovanni Manse instead. Of course, any of these Kindred (Mistress, Ventrue Prince, Giovanni Don or Tremere Primogen) might kill him if he failed to recover the artefact for them. Making things worse, he had just recently been ambushed by a Toreador Antitribu, whose brilliant idea it had been to break both his arms and then demand that he go and dig up the graves of some dearly departed mortal relatives. To find lost musical sheets, or something. The excruciating pain that he'd been forced to endure while the Black Rose had shared his Life Story, left Dawid a bit hazy on the details. He did know for sure that he'd be slowly tortured to death if he should fail to gather the materials needed to do a successful summoning within the next three nights. That bit had been keenly stressed. Never deterred by such adversity, the elder ghoul had turned his brilliant mind to work on an immediate solution to those problems. I need a joint. A big, fat one. Wandering through Enfield in search of a dealer, he conceded that he looked only moderately ridiculous. Both his arms were still in casts, leaving only his hands free to move about somewhat. Jhael had been kind enough to dress him in his brown pants and white shirt, which was held up by brown, elastic, y-shaped suspenders. His jacket hung loosely about his shoulders. He was unable to put it on properly, was only slightly less inconvenient than being unable to wipe his own arse. There was only one way that this could get worse. And as he turned the corner, it appeared that he had found it. Grimacing, he named her, attempting a clumsy bow that almost had him trip onto the pavement. "Lady Aguirre." |
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| Aguirre Efrain Maddox | Saturday, 28. September 2013, 06:10 Post #8 |
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"I did. But I ain't got my gun on me. Can't put a bullet in you without Mathilda." Aguirre enjoyed the Stones. Albeit the love she had for Zeppelin and the Doors would otherwise make her appreciation of the Stones look pale in comparison, as would the worship Robert Plant and Jim Morrison would receive until her final death; still, they did put together some pretty catchy tunes. She didn't know his is what Mac would be playing, of course, so the look of ooookay on her features would be conveyed in full when Mac told her to take up the guitar case as a drum. However, when the Brujah realized what the melody was, she would begin roughly drumming the beat as it appeared in her head. Sure, she could never manage to wrap her head around the 'gee-tar' as her father called it, but rhythm was in her blood. Shit, maybe this chick wasn't so bad. At least she could sing. This was nice; by far more pleasant than the last time she's spent time in the other woman's presence. As things were going, it rather looked like she would not be going home under a layer of mud tonight. The song came to an end all too quickly, and her gaze was ripped away by the familiar figure who had announced her name. He nearly ate sidewalk as he attempted to bow, and addressed her as Lady Aguirre, things she seemed to remember telling him she never wanted to see or hear again. What were those--were those casts? On both arms? With a quick movement she removed the case from her lap while also reaching out to catch his shoulder before he buffed it and lost a few teeth. "Dawid, what happened to you? And what're you doin' wanderin' around in Enfield? I know this ain't you're favorite side of town." Edited by Aguirre Efrain Maddox, Saturday, 28. September 2013, 07:13.
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| Lazaruss | Saturday, 28. September 2013, 15:02 Post #9 |
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Elder
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Lazaruss was indulging himself in one of his walks, but he was also hoping for meeting an Anarch tonight. That would make an interesting conversation. He wondered how much they knew of what's been happening since the Cam Net went off line. Tonight he wore a dark-blue suit and a black shirt with no tie. The top button of his shirt was opened, allowing for more comfort and a slightly casual look. He was tall and lean with sunken cheeks and a pronounced brow. His hair was red and neatly sleeked backwards and his eyes were deep and light-green. As he walked, his mind was on the events around Blackwood's proclamation and the London Eye. He was determined to stay clear of the whole mess unless invited to join in, but that did not stop him from thinking about it. The destruction of the monument did not harm Kindred of London much. In fact, he would go so far as to say that they gave it a collective shrug and a 'meh'. Hardly the rain of terrors Blackwood had ranted about. What did it do then ? What purpose did it serve ? Well, what did Blackwood accomplish so far ? He managed to shut down the Cam Network. He riled the Kine authorities. He forced the Council into a session. Whoever it was that hacked the cam-net had to know their stuff. And whoever had planted explosive onto the Eye, had to be an expert too. It was a master-work of engineering and tearing it down was no small feet. Simply put, all that expertise ended up being wasted on what effectively amounted to a minor poke at their general direction. But it wasn't. This whole thing served some other purpose. He felt it in his gut. The missive threatening the Camarilla, the explosion, the Cam Net, were all peaces of a single puzzle. And the picture was not what anyone assumed it was. Yet. What did one get when threatening Camarilla ? It was an offense to the Council and a provocation. It made them act. Why do that ? In his missive to the Kindred populous, Blackwood had introduced himself as a fanatic, an inquisitor and a messiah. Just another mad dog that needs to be put down. Yeah. Right. There was no way in hell that he could tear down the Camarilla in any four nights. So, assuming that he wasn't, what was his true agenda ? Maybe this whole thing was a distraction for something. All that Blackwood was doing so far was shout to everyone 'Hey ! Look at me ! I'm here ! Look at me ! Look at me !', jumping up and down and waving his arms. Blackwood would now continue to elude and annoy the council, the rest would get more and more eager to go after him, and judging by the level of professionalism Blackwood displayed so far, he would plan to work with that and continue to elude them even more. an explosives expert, a computer wiz, and a would-be prophet that he was. No, it couldn't be as simple as getting a mob of angry Kindred on the streets... There were much easier ways to do that. There was something he was missing. A detail he was overlooking. Something small and simple. What was it ? There were a few other things that were accomplished. For one, the section of Teams where the Eye had been was surely sectioned off by the police. The boat traffic was cut off, and the docks were labeled crime scenes and restricted areas. No trouble for Kindred to gain access, true, but also quite deserted. For another, the Rose primogen issued that poetic call to arms. Every loyal Camarilla Kindred would be sharpening their fangs for a Blackwood-hunt by now. There were no further calls to arms that he knew of, so he assumed that the Council was keeping a lid on things, containing the situation. Ergo, no mob yet. What else ? There had to be some other detail present. Something which lay in the consequences, the fallout of his actions. Details, details, details. The devil was in the details. He was lost in these thoughts as he turned a corner and came upon an odd group of people. One was a girl with a guitar, the other was a man in casts on both of his arms, and the third seemed somehow familiar. He thought he knew her from somewhere. She was giving the man assistance as he walked by. He blinked and cleared his throat. " Excuse me. I did not mean to interrupt. " Edited by Lazaruss, Saturday, 28. September 2013, 15:07.
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| Mac | Saturday, 28. September 2013, 16:16 Post #10 |
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Goddess of Fuck and War
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The song ended slightly prematurely, because unfortunately Dawid mosied around the corner in his double cast contraption and then almost fell over trying to bow to Aguirre. Mac really couldn't handle the humor in that, and because ...well, everythings funny when you're kind of baked. The song stopped and she began to laugh, smacking a hand down hard on her thigh with an epic slapping sound that rang through the street. "Did he just call you ... LADY Aguirre?" She was beside herself with glee looking at the man, such ridiculosly mean plans of ways to stick a foot out by accident running through her mind. One could accidentally throw a tree branch out, or a hand full of marbles, or even just deliver a friendly blow to the back in jest that was perhaps a little to strong and would render him face and arm contraption forward. She was chuckling, a hand coming up to pull the dying joint out of her mouth as she chucked it to the ground. She then flipped open the case Aguirre had been using for a drum, and opened the pocket to take out another behemouth joint. This one was a blue lotus combination, a softer, more floral smell than the sage. Her eyes went to the corner again, as Lazarus came around. What the fuck was with Einfield that brought so many fangers down the streets? She knew this one too, this was one of the Cammies she's scoped out when she first came here, when Archon had his Ventrue cohorts in serious numbers. While this one was her favorite clan to snack on, he was her least favorite Sect. What a bummer. "These are not the droids you're looking for." She accompanied the comment with the traditional hand gesture. Her Memphis drawl came out a touch, and she made a note to force herself back to her indistinct American tone. Whoops, she hated outing herself as a lame, uneducated Southerner. She grinned at Lazarus though, a beastly look of something menacing in her eyes when she took in his suit and business casual appearance. "Carry on your business, pip pip. Cheerio." She would -shoo- him along. Edited by Mac, Saturday, 28. September 2013, 16:28.
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| Dawid Prazmowski | Saturday, 28. September 2013, 22:40 Post #11 |
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"Dawid, what happened to you? And what're you doin' wanderin' around in Enfield? I know this ain't you're favorite side of town." Dawid was glad for the catch, smiling deferentially at Aguirre before backing away just a little, standing on the pavement with shaky knees and his head half-bent. The other woman present seemed quite amused (in a malicious way) about his title for the Lady Aguirre. Quite possibly she was another vampire. Risks should not be taken. "This --" he remembered her preferences for modes of address, and supposed he should uphold the Masquerade. Shrugging elaborately, he decided on a blatant lie. "T'was a skiing accident. I was merrily sliding down the slope when the cry of a kitten in distress reached mine ears." He bent his knees further to to pantomime skiiing as he continued: "My efforts to decelerate near the treetops were summarily hastened by a rocky outcrop that had been buried beneath the Great White Blanket, resulting my present condition." He glanced warily at Mac and the new arrival before stating: "I am expected to make a full recovery, though the acquisition of medicinal herbs might alleviate the pain during the transitory period." He cleared his throat as he looked directly at the joint. "Enfield has its share of herbalists, or so I've heard." Edited by Dawid Prazmowski, Saturday, 28. September 2013, 22:45.
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| Aguirre Efrain Maddox | Saturday, 28. September 2013, 23:25 Post #12 |
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Skiing accident my ass. What a load of shit. A century and a half old and Dawid couldn't come up with a better lie than that on the fly? Then again, if it was bad enough that he had to make up some ridiculous story about attempting to save a kitten on the slopes, maybe she didn't want to know what had actually happened. Either way, once his footing was steady, she was pushing her hands deep into the pockets of her baggy jeans in an uncomfortable manner, especially since he wasn't actually addressing her anymore. So he was in Enfield for a joint? Alrighty then. He was probably in the right place to get one. Backing off in a similarly awkward fashion to the way the ghoul had done, she might have stepped on the toes of the Ventrue before hearing him clear his throat directly behind her, making her jump right out of her skin and quickly step forward. She turned on her heel to face the new comer, just in time to hear Mac enforcing her temporary ownership of this particular square of sidewalk. Rude, but whatever. She didn't know who he was, wasn't any business of hers as long as the Amazonian wasn't bashing his skull into the cement. Hopefully she hadn't scuffed the man's shoes, especially with what would probably appear to be her friend hurrying him off in another direction like he didn't belong on this block. "Er, sorry mister, my bad," the Brujah muttered, keeping her gaze glued on the ground and moving aside. Edited by Aguirre Efrain Maddox, Saturday, 28. September 2013, 23:25.
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| Mac | Sunday, 29. September 2013, 16:50 Post #13 |
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Goddess of Fuck and War
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"Your boyfriend beat you or something? Seriously, 'I fell down the stairs' would have been more believable. 'I accidentally walked into a wall.' or even 'Superman broke my arms' would be better than that horse shit you just spoke. Honestly, you're layering on fucking details that don't need to be there. You could have even just said ' Skiing accident' and we MAY have believed you! Jesus christ, who taught you to lie? Buddha?" She slipped a hand under her black wife beater, pulling a zippo lighter off the contraption around her rib cage that held a variety of her smaller weaponry. She brought the lighter up to the joint between her lips, flicking it on and inhailing a deep withdraw to light the tip up. It had a beautiful taste to it, the blue lotus leaf having no high or anything to offer, just a sort of sweet floral taste that helped take up space in the joint so she could smoke endlessly. She had a fast metabolism for all this shit, booze and drugs were eaten up by her ghoul state, especially on the hinge of Churchs blood. Boy had a decent kick. "So you require medicinal herbs you say King Tut? Got money for that, or do you wanna play an extended game of bullshit? You keep making up stories, and if I believe one of them... I'll just give you a blunt." She took a long, slow drag off the lit spliff in her mouth just to emphasize her point. Then plucked it out and blew smoke rings directly at Dawid with eyes full of laughter. She looked to Aguirre, and then realized Aguirre might not like this game nearly as much as she would. Soft hearted Brujah in boots. What was the world coming to? |
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| Dawid Prazmowski | Sunday, 29. September 2013, 20:24 Post #14 |
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"Boyfriend?" The use of the word confused Dawid, causing his brow to furrow. Did he look so much like a woman? Surely not. Or was this one of those post-sexual revolution gender identity things. He'd heard about it (gay marriage and all that) but had never considered himself the domestic type. Anyway, it was probably intended as an insult he resolved, swallowing and leaving the remark well-alone. He lowered his eyes so as to avoid looking at Mac directly. For all he knew, she was Kindred too. And Kindred typically disliked being treated as if they were on an equal footing. Even the anarchs - though they might protest and pretend this was not so. If he managed to please this woman, she might just give him a blunt - or a drink. Money or bullshit... well, I'd vastly prefer to tell her stories, if it wasn't for this faux copper standing beside us, he thought. "How far would a tenner get me?" he inquired. He had a little more in his wallet, but he wasn't just about to let a potential robber know. "I should love to regale you with tales in payment for your medicine, but I should not wish to offend L- ah, Aguirre with my continued presence. Our most recent date ended badly. And as a self-professed gentleman, I cannot do other but to take the blame for that." He steadied his feet and added: "Sorry." |
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| Lazaruss | Sunday, 29. September 2013, 22:22 Post #15 |
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Lazaruss made a step back and narrowly avoided his toes being stepped on. " Uh. Sure. No problem. " He told Aguirre. He also noticed that the girl with the guitar was best left alone throughout the conversation. The whole bunch of them looked rather cozy here. Sharing joints, fumbling on a guitar to make music. It reminded him of the Hippie-days. And subsequently, of the bullshit he had caused on one of the rallies where several kids ended up dead. He did not let it show on his face. " I'm looking for someone, and this seemed like a good place to start. " He said. " But if you want me to leave, i will. " |
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| Aguirre Efrain Maddox | Monday, 30. September 2013, 02:59 Post #16 |
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Mac's tirade was brilliant, despite being directed at a man whose arms he didn't have access to for the time being. She had the same sarcastic, biting humor, to which she responded in much the same way she did on nights when her roommate was a pile of grouchy, Clint Eastwood loving dead guy; she ducked her head down to avoid drawing attention though she would show Dawid and the Ventrue an apologetic expression on behalf of herself and the ghoul, who was apparently born without any kind of filter. The Brujah glanced at Mac, muttering, "Ain't nobody ever taught you manners? You might as well let the guy to dance while you shoot at his feet." The man she'd almost stepped all over seemed to be more out of place, which, considering Dawid was there, was strange; the Giovanna ghoul was usually that odd place holder. King Tut, as he was apparently called now... Funny, that. Eyes snapped snapped back to the newcomer as he made his business known, and a brow raised sharply. "Y'know, mister, there're a lot of someones in this city. Which one are you lookin' for out here?" Edited by Aguirre Efrain Maddox, Monday, 30. September 2013, 15:04.
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| Lazaruss | Monday, 30. September 2013, 15:02 Post #17 |
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Elder
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" One of Ms. Penvellyn's associates. " Lazaruss said, watching for a reaction. " For nothing fancy. Just a conversation. " |
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| Mac | Monday, 30. September 2013, 18:14 Post #18 |
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Goddess of Fuck and War
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"I think someone might have mentioned Manners somewhere in elementary school. I was to busy getting in fights and kicking ass at gym to listen to much of anything else. Did okay in band too, till I hit another student with my guitar..." She grinned at Aguirre, then turned we attention to Dawid and patted one of the stairs below her with a sneaker. Yep, she was inviting the boy to sit. "Tell you what, you tell me all about this failed Date and I'll spot you two blunts. Or you can have two for that tenner. You wonder why so much? It I roll like a champ and they're massive." She took a looooonnngg and deep breath in, puffing on the rolled masterpiece between her lips. She then took it out from between her lips once her chest was fully expanded, and passed it over to Dawid to try. When she did this, she began rolling out smoke circles of various sizes directly at Lazarus and Aguirre. Then it was time to stuff more bacon in her mouth, and wash it down with the vodka. Her flask looked like it had gone through hell, beaten to shit and then rusted by years of neglect and age. It was very possibly an ancient flask, it may have even spent time at the bottom of the sea. "Hahahaha... That bitch ain't no miss. You're looking for the Tripper. You'll find her and her kids there." |
![]() "You are so fucking Camarilla. All hope and optimism. Maybe we can mount a rescue mission, and everyone can have a cupcake party, and fly around on Pegasus unicorns pooping rainbows." | |
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| Dawid Prazmowski | Wednesday, 2. October 2013, 19:17 Post #19 |
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Ancilla
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Dawid smiled sheepishly before he turned about and bent his knees. He slowly moved to sit down on the stairs, coming to a rest on the step below the one on which Mac was seated. He lowered his right arm and clumsily tried to reach into his pocket, explaining why he should get his wallet out. "'t would be a boon to save on the expense of medicine, wise woman. However, I feel compelled by my breeding to point out that a gentleman should not kiss and tell." He bit his lip and added with a blush: "Not that there should have been kissing. Certainly not on a first date. I meant to use the expression in a platonic fashion. When compared to Aguirre, one so humble as I is but a lowly sheepherd, staring up at mighty mountain peaks." |
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| Aguirre Efrain Maddox | Wednesday, 2. October 2013, 21:44 Post #20 |
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Mouse
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"One of Ms. Penvellyn's associates." For a conversation? Aguirre wasn't falling for that garbage. She was sure there were some real sick fucks out there who would have really loved to get their hands on the Baron's 'associates', and would say whatever they needed to say to do so. Whatever reason this nicely dressed gentleman had for it, she didn't know. She didn't know him, and therefore didn't trust his word as far as she could chuck it. Mac made up for her silence by directing him to the Tripper, which was more than the Brujah would have done for him. That little anxiety was alleviated, but there was another in it's place--Mac wanted to know about the date. The one that wasn't actually supposed to be a date at all, that ended on such a godawful note at the end of the night. She still felt bad for all that, especially she hadn't seen him since then and had only heard from him when he notified her that her nephew was in town. She was still right where she started with that situation, unable to contact him or wrap her head around what to tell him, but she certainly didn't want Dawid doing the job. Now he showed up with both his arms in casts and she couldn't help the need to at least get him his skunk. Shit must have been good if she was charging as much as a nickel bag for two spliffs. Then again, maybe Aguirre just wasn't used to paying for it. The prices had probably inflated since her days in college. Dawid wasn't having a particularly easy time getting his wallet out, and somehow she doubted he had the money to spare after breaking both arms. She rolled her eyes and gave a small wave of allowance. "You already told Jhael, so I'm sure half of London's heard the story by now. Go ahead. Why the fuck not?" Considering his ability to pitch a story, she was going to regret this wholeheartedly, but considering the circumstances of their last meeting.. She owed him. She'd be damned if she was the one to recount the memory, though. |
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3:19 PM Jul 11