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| Welcome To The Night You find yourself in London on a dreary, foggy night like any other. But what lurks in the shadows is the stuff of fantasies and nightmares, far from mortal reality. This game uses the cursed and immortal vampiric condition as a backdrop to explore themes of morality, depravity, the human condition, salvation, and personal horror. We are a writing and roleplaying community dedicated to telling complex and engaging stories. Your fate is your own. Mingle among the ivory-tower elite in the Camarilla, join the fight of the discontented and chaotic Anarch rabble, or set out independently and attempt to survive in London's nighttime underworld. Anything is possible in our World of Darkness. Create Your Account! If you're already a member, please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
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| Cancer, Not Even Once.(ENDED); Toran's Home/Shop | |
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| Topic Started: Sunday, 3. November 2013, 21:04 (1,354 Views) | |
| Sawyer | Friday, 8. November 2013, 00:28 Post #21 |
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Friendly Neighborhood Vampire
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"You didn't want to- what? Fuck, man, I don't even want- nevermind, whatever." He grimaced, looking at Toran with distaste. "And for god's sake, she's not mine and she's not a goddamn girl. Aguirre can take care of herself, asshole, and she's got twice your sense." He wasn't terribly interesting in listening as Toran outlined all of his emergency plans. Did the man really assume Sawyer'd be sticking around long enough to need to use any of them? As far as the Nosferatu was concerned, he was nope-ing the fuck out of this situation as soon as Mac showed up; he didn't have any intention of keeping Toran for himself. A one-level blood bond? Well, the guy could just get the fuck over it and find himself a domitor more willing to play this game. His reticence grew deeper and deeper with every word Toran spoke. Mac's analysis of the man was more wrong than she'd ever know; the guy had problems, something deep and dark worming its way under his skin, and that had nothing to do with his disease. A ghoul this potentially violent, this defiant, this obsessive was nothing he wanted any part of. And he was ready to tell Toran so when a cold drawl came from nowhere. "Mac?" He said, whirling around, but she had no attention to spare for him. She looked mad as hell as she charged in, ready and able to beat the shit out of the bastard. Oh, god. This would only go well. He watched as the two humans launched into one another, still screaming like a pair of banshees, and wondered what the hell he was doing here. This was a goddamn cockfight, dirty and pointless, each of them scratching like the goddamn chickens they were. "ENOUGH! Back the FUCK off!" He hollered from the corner of the room where he'd been standing the whole time, staring both of 'em down with blazing eyes. "Pretty little girl!? The only goddamn children here are y'all!" Hell, the bastards were past words, determined to rip each other apart. Shaking his head and aware that nothing he could say would have any effect, he brought up obfuscate's mind control, disappearing from the notice of both of them. If he was going to feel invisible, well, damn it, he'd at least use the opportunity to perhaps stop the two idiots from mashing each other into fine, red paste. |
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| Mac | Friday, 8. November 2013, 00:57 Post #22 |
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Goddess of Fuck and War
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She wouldn't give him the pleasure of laying a fucking finger on her, not one. Normally she'd lead herself into blows like his, simply to feel the heat and burn of the impact zone. Not bothered by the damage, because she was made of hard fucking shit. This one? No. She wasn't going to play to her physical crutches for him, not this time. She was to fucking pissed, all she wanted to lay some hurt and get this situation under control. She'd duck his initial attack, easily. It was just a slight bend and step and she'd snake out of the movement and try and back off. She'd set him off, not something she'd expected considering his eyes were all swollen and looked like he'd been crying before she opened her fat yap. Before she could get her mind around it, he'd fucking kicked her across the god damned room. Boy got into his new Potence, fine and dandy. She was older though, stronger because she'd developed her ability... And she had other ones, things to fall back on. She'd never mind fucked Toran before, gotten inside of him and controlled him. She'd always trusted him enough to extend a general level of respect for his fucking mind, although she was currently rethinking that. Before she could get in his face and let her ducking bitch flag fly, Sawyer was yelling at them to calm the fuck down. She'd pick herself up off the floor, wondering how to handle this without losing to much cool. An angry Toran was like an angry bull, and she had apparently thought to highly of him and his genius. The years apart did do something to him, something hard and mean. He was going to end up like her, and fuck if she wanted that. This whole shit had blown up in her face, she was ready to back to flying fucking solo. "You asked mother fucker! YOU wanted this! The night at the bar! You didn't want to rot away. Figured I'd get two birds with one stone, give you a fucking regent that wouldn't MIND FUCK you constantly like Marco did to me, wouldn't push and pull your strings till you ran out of human left... and it's give Aguirre a fucking chance at not getting ripped apart in this fucked up world. So fuck you! You gonna be all fucking volatile, you can fend for yourself!" She'd actually back up and put space between her and Toran now, head all fucked up and confused as shit. When she looked to sawyer, mother fucker was just... Gone. Obfuscated the fuck right out of the front door no doubt. She shifted on ancy feet, like she wanted to follow Sawyers example and get the fuck out of dodge. "You may have seen all the shit Toran, the crap side of being a ghoul... There's fucking awesome shit too you god damned asshole! Or I wouldn't have blown my fucking head off a long time ago right? There's fucking awesome perks! Like your strength, new found abilities, and when you got a decent fucking regent? Fuck man, that's amazing. Lovin someone that hard? It's actually a GOOD feeling you god damned Moron. Something I wanted for you, something that wouldn't go sour as fuck like Marco and me! Thought you had it in you to keep yourself together, obviously you're fucked more than I thought. I look at you and I see the god damned heart of gold that used to be there... I don't want nothing to do with the shit I see now. What the fuck, a fake suicide attempt?! Christ!" |
![]() "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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| Toran | Friday, 8. November 2013, 01:17 Post #23 |
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The Formerly Hated
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Sawyer was yelling. Mac was... yelling... which seemed odd. Seemed like she should be doing something else. His ears started ringing. The small trickle of blood from his nose increased slightly. His skin almost seemed to ripple and go pale, his eyes widened. "Acting.. off?" He raised his hand to his face, feeling the blood oozing into his beard. He remember something the doctors had said. Hypercalcemia. Mood swings. Psychosis.... the words sunk in a little. "Hey, sugar tits.... if you could teach me that healing thing... it's a good idea." He slowly shifted, almost as though he wasn't seeing the area around him until he managed to grab a bench and slide it under his big frame. His voice was, wrong. "Calcium imbalanced caused by tumors leaching bones can cause mental disturbances, mood swings, poor decision making, stroke, then coma, possibly death." He said it almost like he was reciting something he'd heard, like he wasn't sure where he was. His frosty blue eyes started looking around in confusion. His eyes glazed slightly, then went back into focus as he stared at Mac. "Oh, hey Mac... it visiting day? Must be done with solitary for now. Boom Boom's guys'll try again. The shank was bad, doc said they found some tumors on my spine, fuck, I found a lump on the intestine I was holding, but they said that was normal and just tucked it back inside. They shouldn't have thrown blood in my face. It wouldn't have happened. Wouldn't have happened if they assholes hadn't thrown the blood." He glazed again. Taking a soft deep breath he let it out in a sigh. He didn't seem to know quite where he was. Shaking himself he patted around on his desk. "Right, got to finish the panic room. Doctors said I was going to get bad before the end. Don't want to hurt anyone. Not again. No cure. No cure in MODERN MEDICINE. Pray for a miracle my son. He said. Fucking doctors. Where was I.... right. I was going to build that security system for the door. Telling me micro-tumors in my skull would start affecting my ability to think and plan. The fuck they know." The blood dripped quietly down through his beard. He wasn't all there, that was clear. Mind attention seeming to slide in and out of focus, like something was missing. His skin had turned a sickly, curdled color. He seemed to spot Mac again and looked confused, looking around the room. "Hey Mac... when'd you get here? Could have sworn I had company over. I think I'm fucked Mac. The shit in my blood. They call it a calcium imbalance. How do soft bones make my brain go? I don't get it Mac.... I get machines. Machines are good. You got a job for me Mac? No more girls though. I don't, I can't take it. They're so sad. I did what they asked... I tried to help the last two get clean... but they just... withered up... and died. How does that happen? I... where am I? Is it time to go back to the Hole? Did they catch me for breaking those two guys? The guys who said they knew Marco... don't remember why that name was so important. They shouldn't have thrown blood in my face. In my mouth. Made me... so angry. That guard was watching, I thought? But he couldn't have been... because they didn't catch me. No guard would watch a guy lose it like I did.... right? Where am I... did I take the meds today? The special ones the guard promised?" He just... drifted off. His eyes half closed. Almost like he didn't know where he was. |
![]() Toran's Voice Can't leave... can't leave... can't leave the girls will eat me.... | |
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| Mac | Friday, 8. November 2013, 02:52 Post #24 |
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Goddess of Fuck and War
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She watched in angry horror as her friend fell apart Infront of her, giving a slight explanation and then sliding off into side tangents that didn't make enough sense to her. Maybe she was to worked up, pissed off, and to sober to really catch and dissect it all. Likely she was just too fucking dumb as well, she ain't never had delusions of being the sharpest knife in the drawer. Rudest? Yeah. Sharpest? No. When the blood slipped from his nose and slid down his beard, she was so fucking glad she'd had a fat and happy feed to keep her shit together right now. Wasn't in a mind frame where that blood was all sex and sultry seduction, it was simply blood, and gross and snotty blood too, from his nose. His bleary and out of focus eyes make her throat catch, and her face wrinkle up. Something inside her stepped away from the whole situation, tipping over into that space of a calm detachment. She had been to sober coming here, none of the vices that kept her in her skin were gripping her enough. She was losing to the psychopath she usually tried to drown, and that psycho was all pack. This boy was faulty and defective, and he was to far gone to save. She went over to the red cooler, tipping it open. Inside were six packs of blood, all labeled and pretty in their red juicy packets like a hospital emergency room. Three human, universal donor blood, and three not so human and labeled with their clan and place of catch. Camden, the other evening. There was a red transfusion kit rolled up, and several surgical scalpels keeping the lot company, in small sheaths to keep them from fucking up the whole disaster kit. "Always knew I made a shitty antihero. Can't save no one." However in the top of the kit was what she was looking for, and she pulled it free with a metallic click. It was a small hand gun, a recently acquired piece of work. She'd put on one of Torans own silencers, and she found a comforting irony that he'd have a hand in his own end like that. Poetic and shit right? She'd want that for her, if she was fucking losing her mind and falling apart. She had no way to fix this for him, if he was so far gone... There wasn't anything even vamper blood could do. It wasn't a miracle cure, and embrace? That didn't really enter her mind as a potential, Fangers being the near soulless beasts she thought of them as. Still so much fucking anger and bias, a deep seeded hate that was slow to be chipped away. "See you in hell darling...I sure as fuck will be along soon. Feel free to lay some mines for my arrival, get some fire works ready." Sure as fuck all the assholes she'd sent there would be lining up to take a hand at whatever eternal pain and punishment was in store for her. She did her fucking best not to think of it, not to believe in it, but growing up in religious freak zones rubbed off no matter how much bull you thought it was. She just hoped the kids all went upstairs, not down. Don't let them be waitin on her ass. She wouldn't close her eyes, or look away, or do anything to lessen the responsibility of this moment. She always wanted to stare into her own death, she sure as fuck wasn't going to disrespect his. He couldn't see it coming, so she'd carry that with her. She lifted the gun, aiming for a good clean shot to the zombie feeder, not even crossing the distance to him. She didn't want to get close... Not physically, not emotionally. Good fucking bye London, this place was a fucking virus to her. Fucking her all up, screwing with her head. She'd get out of dodge and run after this, because that's what she always did. Wanderer. Runner. Edited by Mac, Friday, 8. November 2013, 02:53.
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![]() "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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| Sawyer | Saturday, 9. November 2013, 04:41 Post #25 |
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Friendly Neighborhood Vampire
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Oh, this was going some place very, very bad. Of all the things he figured he'd have to diffuse, a homicidal Mac was not one of them. He watched Toran fall apart with cold, clinical interest, suddenly quite aware that the man really was crazy, so far gone that perhaps nothing could drag him back to reality. Maybe Mac was right. Maybe death was kinder, quicker, the merciful option. But how the hell was he supposed to watch her execute someone he'd just decided was worthy of staying alive? Someone she'd come here to ostensibly save? It ain't right. It don't make sense. Goddamn it, McBodiceripper, I'm stuck white knightin' you, asshole. And so Sawyer Flint resolved, with his customary lack of common sense, to do something potentially very stupid. Luckily, neither of the humans seemed to have any idea that he'd stuck around after his disappearing act. When Mac raised the handgun, he was ready to strike, and at least he had surprise on his side. His right hand grabbed her wrist and twisted it backwards, driving her arm down with bone-shattering potence, leaving the barrel of the gun leveled at the floor rather than at her friend's forehead. His aim was to disarm her if he could, and give Toran a chance to do something if he couldn't. At the same time, he drove his left elbow into her neck, shoving her roughly to the side and breaking her line of fire even if he didn't succeed in getting her to drop the damn gun. "The hell are you doing?!" He demanded with a wild, feral snarl. "You show up to save his ass, and then decide to put him down?! Jesus Christ, what the fuck kinda friend are you?! Stop with the fuckin' theatrics!" |
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| Mac | Saturday, 9. November 2013, 21:29 Post #26 |
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Goddess of Fuck and War
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There was a snap as her arm was twisted, fingers triggering the gun as the arm bent and flung towards the floor. She had the frame of mind despite the sudden red flash across her senses, to make sure that it didn't fire at her own feet and went off side. It went a lot more wildly offside when Sawyers elbow smashed into the side of her neck, and then sent her spiraling. Why the fuck had she been thrown into the air TWICE today? Toran, Sawyer... When did she become the punching bag? Wasn't she usually the punchee? She went sideways and smashed into the ground, sliding sideways as her good hand sought to push up from the ground and regain her balance. She twisted and was scarpering up to her feet near instantly, her injured arm tucking into her body tightly and gripping the gun with a fierce and predatory clutching. It was her fucking lifeline, protection, the only weapon she had on her since she had sprinted from her haven with so little in hand tonight, thinking she was saving Toran. Her heart leapt at the sudden intrusion onto her thought processes, and went flailing madly in her chest there after, Sawyers sudden appearance was unexpected and she was not alright with it. Her arm was sending waving numb signals up into her shoulder as she found her feet with a beastly quickness. "What the FUCK?" She didn't even get what he was bitching about, her brows furrowed between the pain in the side of her neck, meeting and merging with the pulsing up her arm from where the bones were lamenting their unpreparedness to be fractured. "FUCK YOU! You heard him, he's fucking slipping away! Blood ain't no magic fix, it STOPS the progression of rot, it cant fix what's already gone... He'll keep slipping in and out of his fucking gord, what happens if he does something dangerous during one of these... whatever episodes he said it was." Again, she hadn't been following well enough. She didn't understand everything he said, and she really didn't want to. He'd said a few things that she wanted to pretend he didn't, on top of things she just didn't have the brains to fathom. "If I was losing my fucking shit, you can be SURE I'd want someone to blow me quickly. Zombie Apocolypse, you don't fucking wait for the bite to turn, you shoot the fucking bitten right away! Before other people become casualties of your soft fucking heart." She had responsibility here, and Toran was a loose canon. She'd thought him way more stable than his, he'd seemed so much more stable at the bar that first night they stumbled into each other again. Two old friends meet in a bar, what did she expect? Good times and happiness? What a pile of horse shit. Well, she couldn't stand by him 24/7 and make sure that he didn't fucking hurt no one during an episode. She wouldn't fucking play baby sitter, ain't never been her thing. A stain on her soul maybe, but she just didn't have the patience or the emotional stability to dedicate herself to shit like that. Watching someone fall apart was not something she wanted to be part of, a pointless endeavor with the same end no matter how long you pushed through. He wasn't Toran anymore. He was... a sliver of himself. She hated being in the company of shadows. |
![]() "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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| Toran | Saturday, 9. November 2013, 21:48 Post #27 |
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The Formerly Hated
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The man's voice echoed through his head weirdly. He felt he should be listening to it. Then a thunderous BOOM resounded through his big brick room. A computer monitor he was going to take apart explodes, shards of plastic flying through the air. One piece slashed across the back of his hand, drawing a fine line of blood down his wrist. Then he heard Mac's voice as well. Yelling. Broken. Theatrics. Rot. Episodes. The words resonated down his mind and he struggled. Focus. He had to focus. He had to clear his head. Had to clear his mind. His dark brows came down over his face, giving his gaze a thunderous look. His frosty blue eyes, always light, had paled slightly, almost too a silver tint. His metabolism sped slightly, sweat creeping down his skin. The vitae in his system started to burn, though he wasn't sure what was happening, didn't think of it in those turns. He simply dedicated his fierce willpower to clearing his head, demanding his mind smooth out. Hormones in his body shifted. His kidneys and liver siphoned chemicals out of his blood. His mind cleared and his gaze snapped up to regard Mac & Sawyer. He slowly straightened to his full 6'4 and frowned, his voice a soft rumble of shadows and smoke. "What's going on?" |
![]() Toran's Voice Can't leave... can't leave... can't leave the girls will eat me.... | |
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| Sawyer | Sunday, 10. November 2013, 07:01 Post #28 |
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Friendly Neighborhood Vampire
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They'd really done it now. Since the very beginning of the night, he'd only wanted to talk, like the rational adults he'd hoped every one of them was. He didn't like conflict. But if that was what they'd wanted, well, he knew what he had to do. These two despicable little idiots had triggered the most brutal weapon in the Nosferatu's arsenal. His last resort, biting and desperate and cruel. They'd summoned up... a monologue. "No," Sawyer said firmly, frowning. "You don't do that, Mac. Not to a friend. Goddamn it, I don't care about the zombie apocalypse when I am the zombie apocalypse. Stop bein' so goddamn pragmatic. Jesus fuckin' Christ, I'm dead, and I'm less cold-hearted than you!" "What's going on?" The voice cut through his tirade like a knife, and Sawyer had a powerful urge to strangle its owner. That was, he'd really like to if he wasn't trying to save the asshole's life. Oh, goddamn it, McBodice-Ripper, what a great time to snap back to reality. "And you," he snarled, whirling around to face Toran. "What's goin' on is you're gonna sit the fuck down. Stop fuckin' tryin' to commit suicide-by-Mac. Yeah, she's real fuckin' eager for your blood on her hands, but fuck that, it ain't what friends do. Is that 'oh where am I' bullshit even real, or are you just playin' another trick, tryin' for sympathy? You wanna do somethin' that ain't completely selfish, completely cowardly? Go see a real doctor, you dumb shit. Stop thinkin' that bein' dead is a cure for dyin'." Children. They were goddamn children. Why hadn't he seen it until now? He didn't know what shit they'd been through, what innocence had been stolen from them. It didn't matter, really, not when they were acting like two squabbling brats. But the stakes were too high for that sort of idiocy. He turned back around, faced the Amazon, his eyes blazing and back straight. He was so tired of dealing with petty, whining children. "The fuck you afraid of, Mac?" He demanded, tone fierce and biting, disgust echoing in every question he threw at her. "You really think he could fuck up Aguirre? Why the fuck does everyone discount her like that?! But you ain't dumb, Mac, you know she could rip his ass apart. No, you ain't afraid for her. You're afraid for yourself. Afraid of what it means to see someone you love turn pathetic and weak. Afraid of watchin' time turn everything to shit, but you ain't goddamn Peter Pan. Grow the fuck up." His words had finally lost their harshness, instead tinged with the slightest note of miserable desperation. Sawyer wanted so desperately to believe that the world was a fair place, that friendship meant more than just going with the flow until the current was against you. He wanted to believe in things like loyalty and kindness, sincerely wished to believe that every life was worth saving, that no human was beyond redemption, that life was precious and valuable and goddamn it, why did he have to be the only one out there that bothered believing in anything at all? "You don't throw people away when they're broken," he beseeched her, shaking his head. "You fix them. You showed up 'cause you cared about him enough to save his life. So save it." It was a dumb gamble, thinking she was capable of listening to words at all, or that she'd care about their meaning even if she heard 'em. But it was the only gamble he had left- he wasn't fool enough to attack her if the fight wasn't on his own goddamn terms, and hell, what would the point of that be, anyway? The truth was that while Sawyer Flint didn't make a habit of letting innocent people die, Toran seemed determined to end up dead all on his own. And there wasn't nothin' he could do about that. |
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| Mac | Monday, 11. November 2013, 03:37 Post #29 |
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Goddess of Fuck and War
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"Awe Sawyer, I ain't discounting our pretty lady... I meant for Toran to belong to her, cuz she could handle him. Kick his ass, make him eat dirt when he gets out of line, and laugh. Boys got a sense of humor. I thought they'd get along better, my boy here appears to have lost all his fucking manners and charm. My fault for not noticin his degradation earlier... You though, you want him? Cuz it's your blood in him now... I wanted him to go Anarch, go free. Fucking Cammie? Who the fuck would choose to be Cammie when they could choose to be free? FYI, he's your ghoul now Sawyer. You really want that? Coulda solved that issue..." She looked to Toran as he seemed to snap the fuck into reality, blazing arm on fire with ions and needles from sawyers crushing blow to it. She extended it, aiming the gun at him still. Mostly so Sawyer would keep his distance and not tempt her by coming close, because she sure as fuck would shoot if either of them made a move for -her-. Inside Sawyers head he was thinking all love and justice, and inside hers? She was thinking about hot the fuck this situation could possibly be resolved, and she didn't discount shootin folk in her scenario's. "Toran, you're a fucking asshole. Seriously, you should have told me how bad it was. You're fucking custard is as scrambled as fucking merange... I don't give a shit if you're not in control of yourself, you attempt a fake suicide again? I'll finish the job." What now? Now... She wanted to leave. Her neck was a fucking wreck, she needed to massage that bastard into oblivion because she could already feel the tense muscle beginning to want to cramp. Mother fucker. What the fuck was with this entire scenario? What did sawyer think the possible out come of this could be? A big old group hug? Wouldn't solve the issue of Toran being a game of Russian roulette, would his episodes get violent? Would they be responsible for some poor fucking turd walking down the street getting ganked because a switch in Torans brains gone all screwy? "I'm fucking leaving. Back the fuck away from the door..." She'd skirt for the foot carefully, steps as creepy as ever. She stopped at the red cooler, careful to turn her back into the doorway to exit and keep her front facing the mother fuckers Infront of her. "I'll leave these for you bitch, cuz I don't know exactly what shit is going down here... You're ghouled now, a bank supply is always necessary. This is three months, if you use it sparingly and don't have to burn to much to heal... You may only get two, with ya cancer and shit. " She spoke to Toran, but kept her eyes between them both shifting. Careful steps led her backwards through the door, arm holding the gun blazing. She could switch hands, but she was still able to hold it through the pain. Mother fucker didn't have to break her arm though did he? "Sawyer? I don't know WHAT the FUCK pragmatic means! But pragmatic this slut monster." She'd lower the gun just a little, and take a shot at his lower leg, might as well get even for her broken arm now so she didn't have to carry any bad feelings from here out. And, because he was pissing her off and trying to get her to be all feely and emotional. Asshole. Then, she'd run. |
![]() "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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| Toran | Monday, 11. November 2013, 04:04 Post #30 |
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The Formerly Hated
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The big man sort of leaned back against the table behind him, ignoring the mess around him and contemplating. Picking through what he'd just heard Sawyer yell, and Mac screech in reply. He was clicking through some things. His silvery-blue eyes half closed as he worked on this in his head. 1. His brain had stopped working. 2. He had done things. 3. He had ran into Mac. 4. He had said things. 5. Mac had tried to FIX things. 6. He apparently met 2 vampires, 1 male (sorta) 1 female. 7. He apparently had... tried to commit suicide in his dementia? 8. The male vampire had bonded him. 9. Mac tried to save him. 10. He HADN'T tried to commit suicide but performed some retarded manipulation attempt. 11. Mac tried to ghoul him to a woman. 12. He... ghoul'd... to the man? 13. Mac tried to kill him when his mind squish. 14. The male vampire stopped Mac, then called her on emotional shit. His mind sort of skittered at that moment. Trying to come to grips with a vampire yelling at Mac over her emotional immaturity. He actually GOT why Mac had tried to kill him. He'd been around her long enough that that made sense from his understanding of her perspective. He was rather GLAD he didn't have a bullet in his brain, but he got why she would have. Weirdly, he felt a bit more loved for it. So he probably wasn't completely sane again. He almost didn't click on Mac's department. He swiveled to watch her then turned back to regard the vampire, tilting his head to the side to regard him from under half closed eyes. Then she shot Sawyer and he shook his head. "I'm fairly certain I owe more apologies right now than I can really express. Unfortunately... I have almost no memory of what happened in..." He looks at the digital calender on the way and flinched. "The last week and a half. Which would mean I've been undergoing some kind of psychosis from my illness. Given what's being yelled I'm fairly certain I was, irrational. My apologies. I don't even remember meeting up with Mac again." His mind was spinning. Inside he was walking a tight rope between freaking out at the panic of being bond again and relief realizing that his cancer was at bay, combined with a terrible amount of guilt at apparently having been bat shit insane. "If I've been acting as insane as this scene seems to indicate, I don't think I can say anything to put things back onto an even keel. I'm not all that great with words. Machines, sure, they're easy. Speaking, not so much." He looked at Sawyer, studying him. He could feel the part of him that wanted to stay near the vampire. He could also feel the dark mass of conflicted emotions and terrors that gibbered in his mind whenever he considered what it was to be a mortal bound in blood to a kindred. And thirst. "You can't drink my beer. I suppose I could offer to get drunk and give you a buzz that way. The situation is so far past normal it's bordering on surreal. You want a towel or something for... that?" He honestly rather expected the vampire to rage and kill him, it would cap off this immensely confusing evening with perfect comedic majesty. He was also glad he had concrete floors. Finally straightening he walks over to the fridge in the back and pulls out two iced beers. Snapping the cap off with a roll of his calloused thumb he takes a long sip, regarding Sawyer. "This is fucked up." |
![]() Toran's Voice Can't leave... can't leave... can't leave the girls will eat me.... | |
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| Sawyer | Monday, 11. November 2013, 19:31 Post #31 |
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Friendly Neighborhood Vampire
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He jumped back as soon as he heard the gun fire, rather painfully aware of what was about to happen. But he'd failed to move fast enough, and instead of hitting him in the leg, the bullet ended up in his foot, provoking a strange hopping dance punctuated with short bits of profanity. "Ow," he whined, looking at the sudden hole in his boot with a wince. He turned his gaze back to the fuming Mac, his golden eyes as wide and sad as a basset hound's. "What the fuck?" She'd actually shot him. Well, jeeze, that was predictable. If you poked at a scorpion long enough, you shouldn't be surprised when it finally stung you. He didn't know what he'd expected. "Thanks for those words of wisdom, Sawyer, I've sure learned my lesson"? Well, it would've been nice. "Just for the record," he hollered at her retreating back, "Shootin' people for no reason is, like, the least pragmatic thing ever. So good fuckin' job! Bitch!" The lost cause ducked out the door and into the November night, his words bouncing off her like water on a duck. Useless. But hell, in her shoes, maybe he'd want Toran dead, too. It was easy to judge the situation from an outsider's perspective; he'd never known the kinder, gentler guy who Mac seemed to remember. Maybe the man here in his place really was too far gone to save. He sighed, turning around and fixing Toran with a miserable expression. "Hey. You're a dick. Good job, like, conveniently forgetting all the dickish things you done. Real cool, bro." He grabbed the other beer from the table, working its bottle cap off with a sharp, hooked claw. Sure, drinking it wouldn't do him any good, and he'd just end up puking his guts back up shortly, but for the moment, he'd take any comfort he could find. 'Drink until things start making sense' was his approach to a lot of life's challenges anyhow. And right now, it'd take a lot of drinking to get to that point. 'This is fucked', as Toran had so eloquently stated, summed up the situation pretty well. He still couldn't feel his foot. That was probably a bad sign. Ugh, this night. "Look," Sawyer said, sipping his beer with a sour expression. "I done saved your life twice now. Or at least tried to. So, like, don't make me regret that or nothin'. Please." He had no intention of keeping him as a ghoul, truth be told, whatever Mac might think. The man was too impulsive, too unpredictable to ever be able to exist as a Nosferatu, and Sawyer's clan didn't ghoul those who they didn't someday hope to embrace. Their blood carried too much of a curse to be given away lightly. All the same, he felt a keen sense of responsibility towards the man. It was his blood keeping Toran alive, his actions that had prevented the big guy's brains from staining the wall. Surely that meant something. He sighed again, taking another drink. "Listen, I ain't intending to play babysitter here. You safe to leave alone yet? You, uh, want my number or somethin'?" Shit. He should really just walk away and get the fuck out of this dude's life. But he wasn't walking away yet. Why wasn't he walking away? |
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| Toran | Monday, 11. November 2013, 19:45 Post #32 |
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The Formerly Hated
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The big man grunted and contemplated the question. "Yeah I should be safe. If I can think now it means my blood chemistry is normalized. I think. ..... And if you brought a cell in here my system captured your number... and probably you gps chip. It's a passive net. The recievers were easy. Had to pay a penny for the software though. Also got the footage of everything down here sent to a remote line server. I'll erase that." He contemplated Sawyer with his eyes, now more silver than blue. He frowned and shrugged. "She's from a real bad place. She didn't aim for the head. Must like you. And I owe you, twice. Come collect when you need. Securty systems and breaking them are my specialty, but I'll do what you need." |
![]() Toran's Voice Can't leave... can't leave... can't leave the girls will eat me.... | |
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| Sawyer | Monday, 11. November 2013, 21:55 Post #33 |
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Friendly Neighborhood Vampire
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He rolled his eyes. Overly paranoid with layers of definitely-not-legal security systems? Yeah, shit, that sounded familiar. Maybe McBodice-Ripper was a little bit Nossie at heart after all. This is why he'd been so damn resistant to updating to an iPhone, regardless of the cutesy Snapchats he sent back and forth with Aguirre. There was safety in old tech, in tech too dumb to exploit effectively. He'd gotten so very lazy lately in regards to that... Redirecting his attention to the matter at hand, Sawyer gave a curt nod. "Right. I'll consider it a favor owed. Yell if you need me, maybe I'll feel a lil' softhearted again. It's a bad habit, after all." With that, the Nosferatu vanished, beer still in hand. Debts and boons, favors and extortion. Who knew when any of it might come in handy? |
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| Toran | Tuesday, 12. November 2013, 00:41 Post #34 |
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The Formerly Hated
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The big man nods to himself slightly and walks to his front door. He purposefully waits a few minutes, looking around and seemingly just waiting. Then he slams the big door shut and slides the thick metal bars into place. He had to go upstairs and access his computer. He had a feeling he'd really like to watch the digital recordings of his last week or so here in London. Be nice to have a damned clue what was going on in his own life. |
![]() Toran's Voice Can't leave... can't leave... can't leave the girls will eat me.... | |
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3:19 PM Jul 11