Vampire The Masquerade RPG
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The Times
The Kindred Chronicle
Key Figures
THE MONSTER OF EALING
Last night, several people reported the sighting of a "screaming red monster" in a quiet neighbourhood of Ealing. After a power shortage in the area, a building caught fire. It was then when, what was described as a "man shaped, footless creature" emerged from the flames, leaping, running, and screaming. One woman has told our reporters that the man had "teeth like a wolf, and the face of the devil". Police officers are still trying to get to the bottom of this; neither the power shortage nor the fire have still been explained. A spokesperson from Scotland Yard has stated that the "so called monster" might be a wounded person, escaping the fire.

TRAGEDY IN TOOLEY STREET
The police has found the bodies of three TFL workers in the construction site at Tooley Street. One of their colleagues raised the alarms last week, when the three workers didn't attend their shifts. The bodies of the men have been found in a deep hole, uncovered by the refurbishment works that are taking place in the area. According to the Police, the bodies were horribly mutilated, which has led to the wildest speculations. The names of the three workers are being kept anonymous, following the wishes of their families.

HOROSCOPE
MARCH 8 - PISCES
You are used to making sacrifices, to prioritising the happiness of others before yours. Even though that is a noble attitude, there are times in life where the only healthy alternative is to embrace your own selfishness and allow yourself some enjoyment. Reserve one hour per day to do something you really like. Treat yourself! Your colour for this month is blue.
Echoes from the past ring back into London. Their intensity increases until they are deafening. What once was a faded memory of a glorious time, now becomes a shocking reality. The consequences of actions taken decades ago ripple into the present, altering the lives of everybody in the City. Unguided and blind, Kindred wander around, trying to make profit out of the reigning chaos.


The appearance of four mysterious figures turned the city upside down. Mistrust and jealousy became the official currency of London. Serpents and fiends rise to power, misdirecting the blaming eyes of the Camarilla towards imaginary enemies. Only those with clear vision and the ability to trust each other strive, while the rest run towards a shallow grave.



Across The Board
Current Chronicle: Dragons and Lions; Pride and Fire
Current Season: Spring
Controlling Sect: Camarilla



Index
Getting Started
General Information
Central London
North London
East London
West London
South London
Miscellaneous
Out of Character


Population: 31

Camarilla
Anarchs
Other
Ventrue: 1
Toreador: 5 (6)
Brujah: 2 (3)
Malkavian: 7
Tremere: 2
Nosferatu: 3
Gangrel: 1
Ventrue: 1
Toreador: 0
Brujah: 2 (3)
Malkavian: 0
Nosferatu: 1
Gangrel: 1
Setites: 5
Sabbat: ???


THE CAMARILLA

Prince

Nobody

Sheriff
Meredith Furlong
Hounds
Robyne Sheridan
Rosella Marie Allain


Keeper of Elysium
Davvad Bisset

Grand Harpy
Catherine Wilke

Primogen
Ventrue: Marcus Antonio Russo
Brujah: Thomas Krusen
Gangrel: Alexa Mallik
Malkavian: Ellora Reese
Tremere: Hannah Sundling
Toreador: Arsenio Pozzi
Nosferatu: Dogan Khojak



ANARCHS

Baron

Khoza

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

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Welcome To The Night

You find yourself in London on a dreary, foggy night like any other. But what lurks in the shadows is the stuff of fantasies and nightmares, far from mortal reality.

This game uses the cursed and immortal vampiric condition as a backdrop to explore themes of morality, depravity, the human condition, salvation, and personal horror. We are a writing and roleplaying community dedicated to telling complex and engaging stories.

Your fate is your own. Mingle among the ivory-tower elite in the Camarilla, join the fight of the discontented and chaotic Anarch rabble, or set out independently and attempt to survive in London's nighttime underworld. Anything is possible in our World of Darkness.

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You Think He'd LEARN; (ENDED)
Topic Started: Monday, 25. November 2013, 05:15 (2,573 Views)
Toran
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The Formerly Hated
* * * * * *
Toran needed to vent after his time with Lucy. He had spent most of the night she was gone running designs on his computer and watching his security footage. But he needed to get out and move, to test something solid, not just design work.

He fit a new harness together under his clothing, buckling it into place and putting a heavy turtleneck over it to go with his cargo pants. Should keep him warm. He had to get energetic to make sure the damned thing wouldn't bind on him. As it was it felt tight around his chest and arms. The thigh straps didn't bind at least.

Puling his black hair back and stuffing it under a baseball cap he stretched and got ready to run, for once in a pair of simple black sneakers. The problem with the new body, he was discovering, is that weight lifting wasn't really feasible anymore. Not at the numbers he could put up. Which means he needed to find another way to push his system. Not that moving cars from one parking spot to another just to see them get tickets for parking on the wrong side of the road wasn't AMUSING... he wanted something a bit more normal feeling.

Locking up his building he took off into the night, jogging. He'd sent a message to Mac, to be ignored, again. Asking if she wanted to run with him. But, as usual, no reply. Cunt Punch wasn't forgiving him anytime soon it seems.
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Toran's Voice

Can't leave... can't leave... can't leave the girls will eat me....
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Mac
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Goddess of Fuck and War
* * * * *
She didn't -ignore- it completely. She got the message, she eyed it with a grin expression, then made a plan to act accordingly. She could be mad at him forever, she was a fucking cunt like that... but at the same time, she had shit going decent here in London, and her hard on pissed off feelings towards Toran right now were certainly going to fuck things up in the long run. She wasn't entirely up to date on that whole business, but she had the gist of it through their common friend Aguirre.

She waited on his door step for his run to end, because...why wouldn't she? Really, why interupt when she could simply let him wear himself down a little and then take advantage of his state? He as undoubtedly more bad ass now than he had been before, but she wasn't afraid of him. She'd been doing this longer, and had always had a predatory nature that Toran wasn't on the level with. Yeah, he may have changed... He may have done shit she had hoped he would never have to do, but at the end of the day he was still a genius. Between them, he was the brain and she was the brawn. She didn't have the upstairs apartment he did, she was a pretty one story building. Her single floor was laid with traps of death left right and center though.

She wore her usual ripped jeans, black wife beater and decaying sneakers. Her hands were folded between her legs, tucker to keep warm between her thighs as she sat with her head back against the door, eyes sweeping the streets stay alert for the ever present and passing fangers that seemed to team in the Anarch territory.
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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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Toran
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The Formerly Hated
* * * * * *
Well, it was flexible enough, if just.

He was feeling alright. When he got home he was going to send Lucy a message to come by and for once he had managed to finish a job without getting jumped by a crazy woman. That was a nice change for him.

At least, that was what was going through his head when he saw Mac standing on his doorstep. Probably for the best she hadn't tried to kick her way in or anything, he didn't feel like finding a new home. His silver-blue eyes regarded her warily, trying to see what kind of mood she was in.

"Hey Mac... done being mad, or you here to kick my ass? That's starting to be a pretty big sport around here."

His voice was soft, dark and dry, somewhat amused. He was relatively certain Mac wasn't going to kill him. He was NOT so certain she wouldn't put him in the hospital, for his own good. He also worried about his reactions. She was meaner that he was, more vicious in a fight, but he wasn't quite as easy going as he used to be. Not that he would try to kill her. What else he might try to do worried him. But not to much. He was pretty sure she could pretzel him if it came down to that. Which he hoped it didn't. He was starting to get his shit organized again, for a change.

Still he slowed, approaching her with the same wary caution some men use on large dogs they've never met before.
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Toran's Voice

Can't leave... can't leave... can't leave the girls will eat me....
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Mac
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Goddess of Fuck and War
* * * * *
"What if we say, a little of column A, a little of column B?"

She gave him a sloppy grin, the sort of rude and malicious grin that said she wasn't entirely sure exactly why she was there yet, but she was. It was a start right? She was present and accounted for, instead of being the other side of an unanswered text message. Those were getting annoying anyways. She moved to stand, and when her hands parted from between her thighs she was carrying a small 9 mm custom browning, its beautiful gun metal a polished but matte sheen.

"Pretty big sport? You mean there's a line up of folk kicking your tail? Perhaps you wanna tell me about that some."

She slid her gun into the back of her pants, and drew her hands away to make it clear she wasn't going to shoot him RIGHT then. But she had made a good enough deal with the gun to let him know that it may be in his future, she was nice and straight forward like that.
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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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Toran
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The Formerly Hated
* * * * * *
He grunts and shakes his head, walking past her to grip the door knob, weirdly it almost looks he like juggles his fingers around it before it opens.

"Well, let's see. I got some ink and walking out the shop I got chomped on by some little bohemian girl. Then I get told off for fighting back, fine, I can deal. Then your girlfriend the mouse kicks the shit out of me on behalf of her beau. I manage to heal the broken fingers, dislocated knee, cracked ribs and go out to do some shopping before an emergency meeting that got called BECAUSE the bohemian tried to eat me. In the process I run into this cute punk anarchist... who tries to eat me. She was polite about it at least and we're actually on pretty good turns now. So yeah, seems like there's a line of immortals building up who Just. Don't. Like. Me."

He keeps his voice soft, that rolling darkness and silk drifting in a cloud around them as he walks through the door. His silver-blue eyes half closed as he considers it.

"The punk was nice at least. Her name was Lucy. Dropped by last.. well, night before, to watch some movies. Army of Darkness. It was a good evening."

Once inside he turns and leans on the counter in his front room. He wasn't sure he wanted to take Mac near the expensive shit in the back if she was in the mood to shatter stuff. So he rested against the counter and regarded her with frank eyes.
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Toran's Voice

Can't leave... can't leave... can't leave the girls will eat me....
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Mac
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Goddess of Fuck and War
* * * * *
"Dropped by...last night? Are you fucking a fanger girl? Don't you belong to a god damned Nossie boy now?!"

What the hell had she missed in the time she had spent Grumpalumping about and ignoring him? Jesus christ, that was fucked up. She couldn't wrap her head around it fully, who did he belong to? Had Sawyer given him to someone else? Also, GO MOUSE! It was nice to know Aguirre had it in her to kick the crap out of Toran, because she had felt like she could before she had thought to make him hers. Her plans had gone to hell though, and he was now a snack for vampers?

She watched him jiggle the handle, and made a note that she was not going to break into his apartment anytime soon. Security had never really been her thing, she was not a theif. She was a hit man, different skill set completely.

She walked in behind him, eyes sliding about to see how trashed the place was, or if it were left in immaculate condition. What kind of fucking did they get up to?
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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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Toran
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The Formerly Hated
* * * * * *
"Who, what I fuck isn't really something you're concerned about, is it? I mean, if I remember right you had some pretty extreme tastes in the bedroom yourself."

He shrugged his heavy shoulders.

"Yeah, Sawyer's the boss, but... he doesn't exactly have a lot for me to do, so I'm a bit at loose ends. So I've been working on the place. ... and I live upstairs so stop trying to figure out what I might have fucked on down here. The answer is, any of it. You know I build shit to last and it takes more than even a bit of extra heavy vigorous sex to knock down what I build."

He scrubbed a hand through his black hair and grunted, a deep booming sound.

"I'm doing what I always do. Tinker and build. Made a toy or two you might like. Working on setting up ghost phones that lack all the tracking shit today's cells have and can piggy back off cell towers without belonging to a service. Just a matter of redesigning the chips to sneak in among those 160 character signals towers send out to talk... and why am I explaining this to you? I'm working on a fancy ass phone, good phone. No tracky."
Edited by Toran, Wednesday, 27. November 2013, 22:14.
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Can't leave... can't leave... can't leave the girls will eat me....
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Mac
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Goddess of Fuck and War
* * * * *
"Hey, you never got to see those tastes in the bedroom cuz you lost your boner and said your dick was scared of me. Those tastes have only gotten more feral Lovie dove."

She didnt stop looking around, but perhaps her gaze did change from the look of a pervert to the look of someone interested in picking up a few new trinkets. They still had unfinished business, but that could be settled shortly. New toys were pretty exciting.

"Dont fucking jump from talking about awesome sex, to toys when they aint the ridable kind of toys. Thats just rude."

She shoved a finger in his direction, because she had dirty thoughts a moment while he talked about toys and then he ended up getting into cell phones. What? Jesus, what a 180 into boring territory.

"So, no more getting a new phone every month?"
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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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Toran
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The Formerly Hated
* * * * * *
"That's the idea. I figured you and the teeth don't want people to be able to track them on GPS, right?"

He regarded her... and for a moment a flash went through his mind. A small Asian nurse, two men attacking him, breaking their limbs between the bars... somehow being strong enough to split those limbs OFF while violating them from behind, bellowing triumph as the blood sprayed. The image shook him to the point where he staggered, slipping off the counter slightly.

"Your idea of a drunken pick up line was "You can break my thighs, I love the way bones snap" and... let's just say I was sheltered then, ok?"

His silver-blue eyes had a weird gleam, almost a challenge as he turned and started to walk into the back. He needed to NOT be staring at Mac's gorgeous face and figure for a moment. Especially until that half-remembered nightmare had faded from his mind. He wasn't sure he'd ever figure out exactly what happened to him in Prison, but he wasn't the guy who came out.

"If you want me to make you something you can ride, I can do it, but you'll have to have a pretty solid power line to feed it... and I'm pretty sure even you couldn't last long with the thing set to full... I've made... weirder."

The safe was moved from it's spot against the back wall. The hatch to the underground was open and several heavy power lines were dropping down into the tunnel. He sighed and rubbed his hands through his hair again. It was a good thing he was going to ask Lucy to drop by later... his blood was starting to heat up again.
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Can't leave... can't leave... can't leave the girls will eat me....
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Mac
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Goddess of Fuck and War
* * * * *
She noticed him slip, and try and smoothly recover. She didnt know what did it, but in her mind it was probably his brain tumor being a fucker in there. Or bone tumors, or whatever the fuck was wrong with him. She didnt know a lot about that sort of shit, wouldn't ever effect her afterall.

She grinned something absolutely rude and perverse when he commented on her not being able to take it on high setting, and gave a shrug of one shoulder.

"Well, no hard feelings. You and I woulda been one hell of a fucking mistake, we're mates not MATES." Should she mention she had someone who -enjoyed- breaking her bones while fucking her? Probably not, she wasn't so sure that Church wouldn't ruin every ounce of her street cred with Toran. Afterall, who was the hard ass mother fucker who refused to bend the knee to a vamper? That was supposed to be her, and while she was refusing to bend the knee in all the important ways... She did feel kind of queer about the entire thing, like part of her was betraying her Hunter sensibilities.

Fuck Hunter sensibilities. Church made her feel good, and sure as fuck not many people made her feel good these days. He didn't just make her body feel good, he like, complimented her and shit. Made her feel all fucking special and shit that made her so uncomfortable, she prefered to not think about it.

"Well, it takes more than some serious vibes to get me going. Last time it took it a concussion and several broken fingers, and possibly a fractured spine... not sure about that." She began rooting around, poking at shit and invading his space to look at his inventions. She did shit like that. "So like, how the fuck is being a Cammie? You sneaky son of a bitch."
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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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Toran
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The Formerly Hated
* * * * * *
"Well, let's see. They don't approve of you trying to drive Toreador's head first through brick walls even after they've bitten you. They seem to have a ton of rules I seem to know nothing about, and they like meetings."

He snorts and shakes his head, taking something fragile out of her hands and setting it on a shelf. She was as bad as a toddler.

"That might explode."

Then he takes down a heavy gauntlet that looks like it's made of the same material as fire coats. A pair of tanks, about the size of a small propane tank were slipped inside the back, causing it to bulge. There were a pair of nozzles sticking out the back of the knuckles, which were heavily wrapped in fire tape. The palm had a squeeze button.

"This... I made for you. Get in close, aim your arm straight at it, squeeze your palm and woosh. Flame is good for about 10 minutes of continual spray. Makes a cone about 5' in diameter for around 7' in length, so DON'T point it at a wall, or ceiling. Unless you want the building to come down. The flame... it can get up to 3000 degrees, melt steel. Just... don't stick your fingers up when you trigger it OK? I'll have to replace the burned out nozzles and fuel tanks. The nozzles will deform, so they'll need to get removed and replaced after extended use. It'll be a machine job, since I had to make the nozzles and spray tubes custom. The propane tank is good for a long while, it's the aerosol silicone spray that runs out fast."

He holds it out to her with a raised eyebrow. Wondering what she'd make of having her own flame thrower. If she hadn't been a ghoul he'd have worried. Full the tanks made it a twenty pound load on a wrist, but he figured Mac was tough enough to deal with it. He thought about telling her about Lucy, but he figured she'd just mock him if she found out he was starting to have a feeling or two for a vampire.

"Hey, Mac... I know they're predators, killers, monsters. But, do they have to be? With enough self-control can they avoid killing, just deal with being Immortal with a strict diet?"
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Can't leave... can't leave... can't leave the girls will eat me....
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Mac
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Goddess of Fuck and War
* * * * *
"I didn't want you to go Cammie, they're fucking retard with rules fixations. Aint no one that keeps all those rules in a nice orderly to do manual, pain in the ass.... Um, do me a favor. Do not for the fucking life of you, mention you ever had any affinity with any sort of Hunter. They will kill you instantly... Also, never mention -me-. In case any vampire with a bit of... knowledge of my particular assholery catches the name and gets to keen."

She was turning a small bottle of something upside down when Toran took it away, taking about explosions. Instead of looking alarmed she just looked more interested, and almost stepped towards him as he walked away with it. Natural instinct to go get it back fighting with the intention to not cause to much shit. While he puts it away on the shelf, her hands slide over the desk and find a small tool to pick up and run over the back of her fingers, like a coin beind played with. She then put it back, and grabbed something new. A small tin, with something inside. She gave it a short shake, something like marbles rolling about metallically. She was about to open it when he was returning with the gauntlet creation, and she just dropped it on the table carelessly to turn back to listen.

"So, I'm basically going to be a fire bender frying up fangers left right and center?" Oh, now that was interesting... Wasn't any good for hunting, but it may be handy when it came to Churchs intentions of destroying Jack, sautee some fucking shovelheads before taking on the final boss. If they ever made it that far, kinda a fools errand. At least dying would be epic... Course, it was kind of bulky. "How easy is it to like... drop the thing when it gets empty?" She'd need to be able to shed the whole invention once it ran out of juice, she wouldn't want to be trapped in a weighted and useless aparatus.

She was taken off guard by Torans sudden shift of questioning, blinking stupidly at him as he asked so tenderly about Fanger life style. This wasn't something she was really prepared to discuss. A few months ago she would have answered easily and just said "No. They're fucking dicksmacks, one and all. Even the nice ones, are just pretendin." But now, now she didn't really want to believe that. She'd had Fanger acquintances she had decided not to kill before, ones she could stand and didn't immediately want to exterminate. None that she would have shed a tear for if they'd died though. Now things were a bit different, because she actively wanted to Protect a few folk in this here city of the damned. Part of her fucking hated that she felt that way at all.

"Uh... Shit. Toran, what the fuck? Seriously, where the fuck did that come from? Your lady Fanger? Tell you what... You fucking create a light tight space for her, and have her spend the day here after you fuck yourselves silly. You look at her in her day sleep, and decide if you think she's still got a Soul or not."

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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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Toran
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The Formerly Hated
* * * * * *
"Did that."

He replied without blinking, showing her how easy the glove slid on and off. Since the thing was literally as easy as shaking a heavy glove off his hand to remove. It was heavy though.

"Appearances don't bug me. Spend time in a Max Prison hearing about some of the stuff humans do to each other without magical intervention and suddenly a person who has to drink blood to stay alive doesn't seem quite so monstrous."

He leaned against the counter and picked up a think length of iron, slowly bending it and twisting it out of shape.

"And no, it ain't about the girl I met. Yeah, it's nice to meet a girl who is solid enough to take it without getting hurt, but sex is sex, even when it's really good it doesn't ruin my life. I ain't to thrilled to be living my life, or unlife or whatever, under a ton of someone else's rules... but I've already fucked up just about every possible way with that lady vamp friend of yours. So I'd say independence is out of my frame, wouldn't you?"

His deep voice is soft, his silver-blue eyes regarding Mac calmly. Even as he twisted the steel rod into an ever tightening spiral between this thick fingers.
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Toran's Voice

Can't leave... can't leave... can't leave the girls will eat me....
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Mac
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Goddess of Fuck and War
* * * * *
She'd let him slip the glove on and off, admiring it for it's ability to throw fire and then be used as a projectile itself if she flung her arm hard enough. The mental image of it smashing into a fangers face was pretty much exceptional, and it made her grin like a wild cat ad he put it away. Then he was going on to talk about Aguirre, and fucking up. Yeah, he had fucked up. He'd then denied something she'd wanted for Aguirre, a personal guard. Yeah she had Sawyer, but she had trusted Toran on a different level. A level that now, she didn't have with him anymore. Something had gone wrong in the mans head, and he was a fucking twisted mother fucker now... They could help each other kill shit, but he would no longer ground her to her fleeting shreds of humanity. He had been that for her before, his admirable naivity and golden soul seemed to be falling to the wind.

Was he... Was he going soft on Fangers now? What the fucking hell, he'd watched her in her day sleep and he was still all 'maybe they're not so bad?'. She was reeling from it, the inside of her head was playing ping pong with her emotions and her history. She moved away from him, further into the suite and seeking a sort of distance as she batted a hand up in his direction saying 'stay the fuck back bro' in a way that would be hard to mistake. One hand came up to her head, then cupped down around her mouth as she tried to take in his rather 180 slip on how he felt about the Grinners.

"Rather drastic changing of opinion on you lately aint it?! Would you be a Fanger? If the option came up, would you take that shit?" She'd turn back to stare at him, face all bunched and angry looking. He'd be used to that expression by now.

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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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Toran
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The Formerly Hated
* * * * * *
"Daytime hibernation is no more implausible than the life cycle of certain insects which remain dormant under many conditions. Hell, there's a jelly fish that actually dies and regenerates to it's infant life stage and then lives it's life over again. When you consider that a parasite contained within blood maintaining a human in a state of animation after death isn't that implausible."

He regards the twisted spiral of metal in his hands and slowly starts straightening it back, careful to keep the bends from reaching the point where the metal would weaken and snap.

"The blood, it's chemo. Isn't it? I mean, as long as I'm good about taking it regularly, I don't die. But I'm at the mercy of those who produce the blood, just like I'd be at the mercy of whoever was making my meds. I don't trust people enough to want to be at their mercy anymore, do you?"

His silver-blue eyes regard her calmly from behind black bangs.

"How are you gonna feel in 40 years, when a missed feeding starts your body aging fast, and no matter how much blood you suck down, those wrinkles and spots will NEVER go back to that smooth sexy face you've got now?"

He sets the now straight rod of metal back down on the desk behind him.

"They've got a darkness inside them, right? They're evil. Instinctual killers, born to cruelty, children of violence? How... are we different? Only difference really, is that we get to sun tan and eat bacon and they don't. I'm not the sensual person you are Mac. I live inside my skull. Can you imagine how terrifying the thought of losing what's in here again is for me?"

He taps his head and regards her. His mind clearly on that week of psychosis, a week he only remembers the parts he saw on his security footage.
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Can't leave... can't leave... can't leave the girls will eat me....
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Mac
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Goddess of Fuck and War
* * * * *
"They're dead, and they have NO fucking soul."

She wasn't sure she believed the things she was saying now, but she needed to. She had to cling to the person she had been for the last decade, to her beliefs. She had to re-enforce them inside herself now, because Toran was articulating shit she had been feeling but refusing to actually acknowledge. She didn't want this, she didn't want her world to shift. She didn't want to humanize them, because humanizing something mean you had to feel bad for the shit you did to them. Course, she didn't even carry a lot of guilt over the shit she did to her fellow humans, so maybe... No, Don't fucking think about this shit Mac. Don't go there.

Fangers fucked you. They've fucked countless other people, they're made of twisted fucking evil. Mel's. Mel's. Mel's.

"They are different, and they are fucking monsters. You'll never have to carve out a piece of your rib because your Domitor wants to pick his teeth clean of the babies he's just eaten. You'll never have to be the one to select that fucking baby for Sawyer, because he's still pretending he's a person. You'll never have to pull a toddler that's kicking and screaming his head off away from mother that's to frightened to MOVE, and deliver him into the arms of savagery. You'll never know what it's like to be forced to love that shit, love the monster, love the soulless creature made of rot and decay that just wants to burn down everything that's not yet fucked. But I've seen them when they stop pretending, that the fucking Sabbat... They know what they are and they ain't afraid to show you. Ain't afraid to be what they really are... When I don't find a meal and I age? "

She was looking at him with all sorts of fucked up need to run, once more rubbed by him into a place of wanting to lash out. She didn't even know how to deal with it, the conflict about their entire fucking species. Believing one thing for so long, it was hard to believe anything else.

"I'll DIE. I don't want to lose what little fucking human instinct I have left, I don't want to be one of them. I don't want fake blood bonded love, a chaste cunt, and no sunshine on my naked ass. I want to kill them... I don't want to be one."
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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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Toran
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The Formerly Hated
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"Fair enough."

The large man shrugged his shoulders and let the subject drop. He wasn't going to push Mac on topics he knew she got defensive over. He wasn't going to drop his burdens on her shoulders either. Burdens he hadn't known he was carrying until the vampire world popped back into his face and half remembered moments and tormented dreams starting rising from the back of his mind.

"I don't know shit for souls Mac. I'm a mechanic. But I know I intend to try and kick death in the face every time his grinning skull pops up before me. That's just who I am. But that trailer of dark you're hauling, it's slowing you down when you run."

He reaches up and pulls out a pair of boxes from his shelf, both made of soft white wood, varnished and polished to a glass finish with brass clasps. Setting one on the table he takes out the other and pops it open, holding it out to Mac. Inside on a bed of black velvet was a pistol, nearly unique. Much like an old style flint lock it had a curving grip, but like an old shotgun this one hinged to allow a bullet to be slipped in before the hammer. The barrel itself was huge, big enough for a shotgun shell, though the copper jacket inside indicated something with a bit heavier a punch. The whole thing was made of bronze, carved and polished. Engraved down the side of the foot long barrel is an angel with swept back wings. The top of the barrel has the MERCY one letter above the other. The other side would have a matching angel. The whole thing weighed about 15 lbs and the round was sized for a 20 gauge shotgun.

"Here, I got two. If you ever think you need to end it. Since you got no desire to keep going past a certain point. It's armor piercing and hollow point. Stick it under the chin and you'll have no head left. Only one bullet, that one, is ever gonna fit in it. So don't squander it."
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Can't leave... can't leave... can't leave the girls will eat me....
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Mac
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Goddess of Fuck and War
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She watched him bring out the gun, a beautiful and marvellous piece of work. It was a touch dramatic, it's engravings rubbed her as something to misty eyed and on the money. It was like something from a movie, and as nice of a thought as it was... She would never blow her own head off, not in a circumstance she had other options. If she had time to get this bazooka of a beauty out, she had other options. She kept her hand up, and made sure he didn't cross the distance to try and bring it to close to her. She wanted space from him, she needed space from him... Because she was fucking terrible at dealing with shit...

Death though? Contemplating that was at least calming her down some, because he accepted the fact that she would fucking die if she needed to.

"No buddy. I don't fucking want that. If I get turned and I need to end it? I'll die in the sunshine, or in fire. This face is to pretty to just blow off."

Every inch of her would go if she died, she wouldn't leave no headless flailing corpse behind. If she went out as a fanger, she would go out in the most human ways. Fire and sunshine. Fire had been the first pain she could remember, and she had loved it. She would go out with it, even if her Fanger self was scared shitless of it, she would die as Mac, on fire. Not MacFanger, blowing her head off with a shotgun.

"How much of that ghoul shit have you learned? If you fuck up, you can't put your head back on."
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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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Toran
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The muscular man chuckled softly, closing the box and putting it away. In his mind he saw a detail that he wasn't stupid enough to bring up to Mac. She was just as eager to keep living as he was. She just had that trailer of dark keeping her from reaching the same line he had.

"Ghouls shit? Depends on what you mean."

He leaned back against the counter and crossed his thick arms over his chest.

"You weren't the only one to drop off stragglers for me to take care. So I know quite a bit about the physiology of ghouls, what the blood does to them, how it amplifies the subconscious fight or flight drives, and other darker places. I know they develop powers depending on how long they've been a ghoul and what kind of blood they have been drinking. I know three drinks and they're a slave, willing to do anything for their Masters. I know their bodies are in stasis as long as the blood is in their system. Some can even regenerate lost limbs or burned out organs, though no so reliably that I'd want to try it myself. I had about 5 years of people dropping off folks for me to tend to learn that shit. It's the vampires I don't know much shit about. Though I've gathered they have three political camps. The Stick-Up-The-Ass Camerilla, the Completely-Disorganized-Clusterfuck Anarchs and the We-Got-No-Self-Control Sabbat."

He scratches his jaw slowly and his eyes half close in thoughts.

"Aside from that, I know they come in different flavors, but I don't pretend to know what those are really. Heard a couple of names at this point. Toreador, Brujah, Nosferatu."

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Can't leave... can't leave... can't leave the girls will eat me....
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Mac
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She had spent a long time ignoring her trailer of darkness, and she would go on doing so. It was walled up and put away, even if it was always dragging on every choice she made.

"Not bad, knowledge can be power. I guess. I sorta learned all that shit by stumbling and mistakes, but what have you learned about BEING a ghoul? You learned how to heal yet? Cuz I owe ya something..."

He wanted to offer her a fancy gun? Well, let's see him eat some less fancy gun, her browning being somewhat plain and less ornate. By somewhat, the only thing fancy about it was the silencer. Time for the school of hard knocks, as her hand slipped her gun out and swung around. She wasn't trying to kill him, no head shots this time. She went for a shoulder shot, right side, so she didn't hit anything vital if she was just a little off center of it.

Did she feel bad shooting her friend? No. She probably should, but he'd just pissed her off and gotten her all emotionally strung again, and she'd had to find that switch to cool it all down. She did rude shit when she fell back on her old self, which was the kind that taught people through the worst and most direct methods.
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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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