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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
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Population: 31

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Ventrue: 1
Toreador: 5 (6)
Brujah: 2 (3)
Malkavian: 7
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Ventrue: 1
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Brujah: 2 (3)
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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



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

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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.

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The Bronze Boar [Open] [AU]; AU - Honours World History with Professor Praz
Topic Started: Sunday, 17. November 2013, 18:07 (732 Views)
Dawid Prazmowski
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* * * *
A pale sun shone in from the high windows, its beams illuminating the countless motes of dust that twirled through Professor Prazmowski's classroom. The rows upon rows of books that lined the side of the classroom that sat opposite to the windows were a ready source of such dust, particularly after someone had climed the small ladder that provided access to the books that had been stacked up the highest row.

The students' desks had been stacked together around the ornate teachers' table in two rows, providing the impression of an amphitheatre. The chalkboard had been wiped clean, but knowing the Polish professor, it probably wouldn't be for long. He'd taken his usual place, sitting on his own disk with a thick tome in his hand. As usual, he wore a tweed jacket with patches around the elbows. A pair of thin, horned spectacles sat in easy reach, to be used whenever he would open the book and read from it. Though the class buzzed with the chatter of the students, it became still when he lifted his hand.

"Last Tuesday, we looked at the establishment of Empire and how it changed the nature of the Roman Republic -- by watching two consecutive episodes of the BBC's 'Rome'. Not only did we get to ogle Kerry Condon's Octavia as she seduces her own brother, the young Octavian -- we also learned a few valuable lessons about the nature of the Imperial system. Personal power, united around a single person."

"This afternoon, we're going to skip ahead almost a thousand years, to the year 912, to the rule of the Eastern Roman Emperor Alexander. At this point, there was a clear system of succession in place, honed by hundreds of years of tradition. Birth - rather than merit or, as we've seen, scheming - would determine who would hold the supreme leadership."


Professor Prazmowski smirked, eyes slowly going over the room before they would come to a rest on Sawyer, the school jock. Thinking about him, the professor might've liked for their private school to have revived the Athenian traditions of sport, whereby the contestants would participate naked. Alas. Such things would have to remain private fantasies.

"Alexander was a typical... as you would say... a jock. Imagine a young and handsome Robert Baratheon from Game of Thrones. He liked manly things. Sports, playing ball, racing, hunting, drinking and all sorts of debauchery which, I've been informed, the school board feels I am no longer allowed to detail as of the last semester. Now, before his brother died, he was a Junior Emperor, which meant all the pleasures, but few responsibilities. His brother had been the one in charge. When his brother died, that all changed. He was the new Senior Emperor. His brothers' son, a seven-year-old, sickly child was the junior Emperor, theoretically. But until that boy matured, he'd have power all to himself."

The professor picked up his spectacles and placed them on the very rim of his nose before opening the book that he'd held in his hand: "He'd always hated his studious, serious-minded elder brother, and once in power, he reversed all of his policies and countermanded all of his orders. If you think the 112th Congress is obstructionist, hear this -- he unceremoniously evicted his wife and his mother-in-law as well as all of their friends from the palace, to make room for his concubine and his two Slavonian favourites, Gabrielopulus and Basilitzes.

"The Patriach - the eastern orthodox pope - had been appointed by his brother. And so he had him stripped of his robes, had his long and luscious beard plucked, had him thrown to the ground and beaten until he had lost several teeth. He was saved from death but banished to a monastery, and replaced by his worst enemy. This new patriarch then fired all of the Bishops and clerics who had sympathised with Alexander's elder brother - some two thirds of the total. One wonders how the church was supposed to function, right? Imagine that this school might lose two thirds of its teachers. It would be chaos!"


"In fact, it was chaos. And it was made worse by Alexander's resentment of his brother, who had made peace with the powerful and Barbaric Warlord Symeon to the north. In fact, his brother had paid an annual sum of money in exchange for not attacking the Empire. Well, Alexander wasn't like his weak-willed brother. He shouted at the Bulgarian ambassadors that there would be..." - the professor affected a loud and angry voice - "'no more treaties'! and went back to partying.

"And party he did. In fact, he was convinced that a statue of a bronze boar in the Hippodrome - think of a large mascot in the equivalent of the Beaver Stadium - was his soulmate, his 'other self'. He had it provided with a set of new teeth and genitals in an attempt to remedy the wear and tear that he had inflicted on his own. He also stole hangings from a church so that it might be nicely dressed up and comfortable. The other heir, a sickly boy of seven, he'd planned to castrate, though the Empress Zoe's friends convinced him not to, because the child was sickly and was sure to die anyway."


He looked around, hoping to have elicited at least a few nervous laughs before he continued: "In fact, he died first, a fit he had while playing a game of ball. He died just in time to miss the consequences of his actions. Soon after his death, the Warlord Symeon - believing that the Empire was being ruled by a fool - showed up with an invading army that was so immense that it covered the entire stretch from Propontis to the Black Sea."

The professor looked up at the classroom, glancing at the students in turn: "What valuable lessons do you take from this story, Sirs and Ladies of the Honour Class?"
Edited by Dawid Prazmowski, Sunday, 17. November 2013, 23:38.
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Jhael
Prince Blucher's Dinner (still not quite house trained)
* * * * * *
The fifteen year old in the back of the class had a little problem. It was a problem that struck with alarming frequency, which is why he was glad he scored a seat in the back row. On the surface, he looked attentive, one hand moving his pen over the paper in his binder as if he were taking notes, the other shoved in the pocket of his chinos. Dolce & Gabbana shades were clipped to the collar of his Abercrombie polo shirt and not a blonde hair was out of place. He was clean cut. A good boy. Sort of.

He bit his lip and slid lower in his seat, his eyes darting at the others. They know, was the terrifying thought. The lecture was not helping at all. It never did, actually. Only PE was worse than this. It also happened last Tuesday and had nothing to do with Octavia. When Mr. Prazmowski gave that stirring monologue about Alexander that just hinted at those things he couldn't go into detail about, an orgy broke out in Julian's head that didn't stop for the rest of the lecture. By the time his teacher got around to Alexander playing pin the cock and balls to the boar, all he could wonder was if the guy tried to have sex with it too.

Stewing in hormones and Dolce cologne, he was silent when the lecture ended and it was their turn to speak, his jaw set tight with a tense narrowing of the eyes. He made more useless scribble on the paper to make it look like he was too focused on taking notes to answer. He wasn't, of course. Julian just wanted to punch his dick. Hard. He hated it for doing this.
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Renard
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Henderson grinned as he heard that Mr Prazmowski had been deemed too fond of vivid detail in some of his lectures. That took away some of the charm of it, but with a vivid enough imagination, there was still enough to entertain people. So he just listened and straightened the tie of the school uniform he was still wearing overseas. To mark himself as different from the main group, or that was what he liked to think. Or he just felt naked in a school without it, thank you, educational system ! It didn't matter too much, after all, this was the proper attire, so he wore it, even if it made him stick out like a sore thumb. This Alexander guy sounded a bit like Charles II., but without puritans preparing the ground for the reign of party... well, it wasn't that surprising what heppened. Kicking out the mum in law sounded rather reasonable, though !

So he put his hand up to see whether he would get his turn or someone else would be picked in his stead.
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Verba docent, exempla trahunt !
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Jen
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* * * *
A small, 5'5 figure sits as far back as possible wrapped inside a heavy gray hoodie with the hood pulled up over her face.
Edited by Jen, Tuesday, 19. November 2013, 16:55.
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Dawid Prazmowski
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* * * *
The professor was eager to see at least one hand, his finger jotting out in the direction of James Henderson as he moved to his feet, still holding the book under his elbow. He'd look over his glasses in the direction of the wealthy young man.

"Mr. Henderson! What have you taken from this tale?"
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Tzippy
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* * * *

Settled in the second row back, Moshe Klein idly torn at a sheet of scrap paper, pieces twisted and folded and frayed away to confetti before being discarded for the next bit. Twitchy fingers carefully shuffled the remains into a pile that was occasionally swept into various pictures, lips curling into a tiny grin at one point at one distinctly phallic shape before obliterating it. Every so often, his eyes would flick up to watch Prazmowski as he gestured enthusiastically about the subject at hand.

It wasn't that he was bored. Far from it. History was his favorite class after his AP Literature course. Prazmowski alone guaranteed things would be interesting, even if his sanity had been in question for years, according to Moshe's older brothers. The twins especially were quick to mock the professor, having been in his class two years before. But he seemed alright, not as likely to drone on and on. Interest helping alleviate some of the excess energy Moshe suffered that made classes absolute torture to sit through. ADHD had been tossed around as a probable diagnosis but nothing had ever really been done about it, Moshe not inclined to deal with therapists and meds and his father even less so.

God, just awhile longer and he could move. Just the thought made a sneaker tap the tile floor in anticipation, Prazmowski's shout as he called on Henny making Moshe jump a little in surprise.


Edited by Tzippy, Wednesday, 20. November 2013, 03:13.
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Renard
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Henderson chuckled at the wall of text that had just been recited. It was precise, to the point, informative... And absolutely had no relation to the point at hand. Possible what he was about to say also didn't but hey, who cared, right ?

"Well, Sir, you already pointed out that the actions that had been undertaken made the Congress look tame, so there is that. Namely defying everything a predecessor did out of spite might be not as good an idea as it looks on first glance. Although evicting wife and the house dragon sounds like a pretty smart, albeit highly indecent, move."

The school without 2/3rds of the teachers ? Now that clearly depended on who was going to be evicted, but the thought was entertaining nonetheless !

"So as you said, chaos spread. I mean, thats the thing someone can get away with if he was Charles the Second after a prolonged puritan reign, but everyone else would not necessarily look so favourably on the situation. A comparison with the less effective rulers of Rome comes to mind here.

In short, the lessons we learn might be... A devil-may care attitude is good in some occupations, but a leader of a people should show more concern for the well-being of his people and perhaps employ a nice little something called 'foresight'."

Oh, yes, his father had tried to instill that. How had he called it ? The 'What happens next ?' apparatus. Feed it a thought or planned course of action and think 'What happens next ?' Clearly not something this guy was very good at !
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Verba docent, exempla trahunt !
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Sawyer
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* * * * * *
Sawyer followed the professor's lecture with vague interest. Smart guy with a jock younger brother who just couldn't seem to get serious about anything, ever? Who did that remind him of? His own genius brother would've done better in this class than Sawyer ever could; he'd almost resigned himself to being the Robert to Huck's Stannis- after all, at least he didn't have the personality of a lobster, right?- when he heard just how horribly wrong lil' Byzantine jock bro's reign turned out.

Man, why did history always have to be such a downer? Couldn't the good guys just win for once? 'Course, Alexander the Dumbass didn't exactly sound like a good guy, but in any case, Sawyer would really like for the figures he sympathized with to get a break now and then.

He watched as Henny's hand was the first to hit the air. How goddamn predictable. The guy was always willing to suck up to a teacher, and even more irritatingly, he usually had something pretty intelligent to say when he did. But as he listened to the other boy's summation of the situation, Sawyer realized he answer just as well, and probably with a bit less chuckling and obnoxiousness.

Though 'intelligence' and 'Sawyer Flint' were usually a 'pick one or the other' prospect, he was confident that he at least had something insightful to say. And he couldn't stand another class with Henderson as the only contributing voice, the lil' show-off. So as soon as silence fell again, Sawyer's hand went up, looking confidently at Mr. Praz with an eager grin.
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Dawid Prazmowski
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* * * *
"Interesting thought, Mr. Henderson. The idea of a contract between ruler and ruled - of a necessity for the ruler to be a Good Prince. All this would be born out of feudalism in the West. Tis important to remember that the Empire was absolutist in the purest sense... I..."

The Professor was about to babble away when he noticed that there were other hands, still. Interactive teaching! - he reminded himself, smiling as he turned to look directly at Sawyer. It was good to give the floor to another voice.

"Mr. Flint!"
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Jen
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* * * *
Gets up without a word and walks out of class.
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Sawyer
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Friendly Neighborhood Vampire
* * * * * *
"Well, it may be kinda obvious by this point, but this points out the problem with hereditary rule, don't it?" He cocked his head to the side. "Like, when we was watching Rome, y'know, Octavian gets stuff passed on to him, but he's generally a real smart guy, a chosen successor, and ends up bein' like, the best emperor ever. Except for the incest thing. Did that even really happen? I feel like that didn't really happen."

He paused, savoring the memory of the scene for longer than perhaps was strictly necessary before chirping back to his enthusiastic answer.

"Anyway! Give it hundreds of years, though, and you've got this ridiculous coin-flip, grab-bag thing goin' on. The older brother, the first emperor, y'know, there ain't nothin' he can do about dyin'. But if he had been able to choose a successor, someone more suited to the job, then everythin' would've turned out different. Alex wouldn't've had a chance to fu- erm, screw everythin' up. See, like, I play this video game sometimes, Crusader Kings, and all the time you're gettin' stuck with heirs that suck. But that's real easy to fix, y'know?"

He paused dramatically, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial stage-whisper. That was Sawyer- unfailingly charismatic, a true showman, even when he was essentially saying nothing intelligent at all! With a raise of his eyebrows, he continued, offering up his own solution for the Byzantines' problems.

"Older bro totally should've poisoned Alex before he died. He knew the guy never would've made a good emperor, why pretend otherwise? Even if he thought his son would've inherited, it don't matter- Alexander still would've been a threat to the kid. You gotta poison threats," he finished with an authoritative nod. "It's the only way to be sure."
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