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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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Covering For Eventualities
Topic Started: Monday, 4. November 2013, 16:56 (226 Views)
Tzippy
Member Avatar
Ancilla
* * * *

In south London, a phone rang and rang and rang before going to voice mail.

Trembling fingers hovered over the phone's touch screen for several heartbeats. The text message had already been sent. Waiting in the inbox of a photography student who slept not even an hour away in east London. An American who was clever in the most wonderful ways and stupid in all the best ways and altogether wild and had, in just a couple of months, settled in like he was always supposed to be there. Right next to him, breathing the same air and planning their futures together.

To: Ryan
From: Moshe

I love you. I'm sorry I hadn't said it before.



None of it was even remotely fair and, even as he consoled himself with the bitter reminder that nothing in life could ever be called fair, a hidden part of his heart raged at it all. As it had seethed and churned with scarcely concealed resentment in the months preceding all this.

His life was supposed to be coming together. Not becoming a nightmarish series of secrets and increasingly out of control lies. Not uncontrollable visions that were becoming both darker and ever more clear. Not as slave to an apathetic master and forced to endure humiliations and slander. Not stalked by a future that was now all but inevitable.

The cautious optimist that lurked still under it all spoke up quietly then.

The plan could work. Things could turn out for the best. God had kept him so far, right? Delivered him from (permanent) harm and kept him in safety in dangerous lands like the Moses he was named for. Even if he doubted his namesake had wavered quite as often as he had. And, even if there was no hope, fuck going quietly. Even if things went as terribly as he feared and that little sense of intuition spoke of, he could at least console himself with making it damned difficult for the bastard.

At the very least, he reassured himself grimly, the knife hidden in its holster digging into his leg, he could make it damned inconvenient.

He needed to cover all the possibilities first though.

With that thought turning his stomach into knots, Moshe dialed again.

One ring. Two rings. Three rings. And then, just before it went to voicemail, a click and then a murmur heavy with exhaustion, in a language warm and familiar. Moshe had missed it terribly in his eight years away from home.

"Tzipor? It's 1:30 in the morning, dear heart..."

It took a moment and then he replied, hoarse voice catching only once as he replied back in the same language, "Hi, mom. I'm sorry I'm calling so late... That I haven't called much lately. Just wanted to check up on you..."

"And you couldn't call at a decent hour?," she replied in weary amusement.

"Like you were sleeping. I know where I got those insomniac tendencies from," he huffed back easily, "Probably reading that book you were raving about on Facebook. Stephanie Meyer, mom? Really?"

"It's not like I read her books for the intellectual stimulation, love. You've never watched a stupid movie even though you know it's stupid?"

"Point, point. Anyway... Yeah. I was just wanting to check on you... Say hi. I love you. That sort of thing."

He thought he was doing really good, keeping his voice even and relaxed. But then there came that careful tone his mother always took on when she was worried, the tiredness in her voice fading away to something more alert. Sharper.

"Tzipor... Are you alright?"

He tried to laugh it off, the sound insincere even to his own ears.

"Of course I am. One more year and I graduate, right? Then I can come back home. Just have to get through this year and I'm all done for awhile."

"Moshe."

His real name. She hardly ever used it, preferring her pet name for him, the name that nearly became his true one.The tone the no nonsense one that made him cringe in remembered and current guilt, a lump forming in his throat. He attempted to speak once, wincing at the cracked sound he made, before attempting it again.

"It's nothing, mom. Just... just... Wanted to say sorry. For all the sh-crap you had to deal with because of me."

Silence. Just for a moment. That pause that he knew was her trying to formulate the right words.

"... Moshe... You are taking your medication, right?"

"Of course I am, mom!"

A lie. He had stopped taking it weeks ago. There wasn't really a point, was there? His moods would be regulated if they got out of hand and that small act of recklessness had briefly satisfied some small sense of petty vengeance. A moment of taking back control. Even causing a little bit of inconvenience was better than nothing, something he could get away with without the danger of open rebellion. Punishment might still occur but he was a disabled man after all. This sort of screw up was to be expected.

Still, it disturbed him a little to lie to his mother. Amira always knew, after all. She'd catch him at it and had never hesitated to call him on it before.

But he had been lying so much lately that perhaps the practice would help.

And, sure enough, there was another pause and then an uncertain voice...

"Of course, Tzipor... I just worry. You might be an adult but... I do worry."

Unseen by her, a shaky smile turned his lips as he replied.

"I know, mom. I know. I've never doubted that. I just... wanted to make sure you knew it was mutual, okay? And how much I appreciated everything you did for me."

A soft answer.

"I've never doubted it from you either, dear heart."

Silence. Neither mother nor son had ever been the greatest when it came to these sorts of emotional conversations.

"So...," Moshe muttered, picking up the pace as he approached the corner of Upper Richmond and Putney High Street. His breath steamed in the cold night air as he cast about for a change in topic. Finally, he hit upon one, "I have a bit before I'm on the train... Do you mind talking for a little before I get on?"

"Does this mean I'll finally hear about this young man of yours I've seen on your Facebook?"

A snort of laughter.

"... Fine."




Edited by Tzippy, Monday, 4. November 2013, 16:59.
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