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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: |
| Sawyer Flint's Christmas Spectacular; Closed party thread; no post order! | |
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| Topic Started: Sunday, 22. December 2013, 10:11 (6,194 Views) | |
| Jhael | Wednesday, 25. December 2013, 19:56 Post #21 |
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Prince Blucher's Dinner (still not quite house trained)
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Now that he had a tumbler full of scotch and his back against the wall, Jhael was prepared to assess the situation, orient himself, try to get a handle on the who's who of the weirdest party he's ever attended. Fun! Especially when someone decided to shout EAT FUCK KILL and it's real hard not to assume that's meant for him. EAT FUCK KILL isn't the kind of shit a boy needs to hear while McSkully is grinning down and oh, look at this... a punchbowl of That is So Not Punch. Way to make me feel like a piece of meat. He could throw his drink in their face and scream DON'T OBJECTIFY ME, but who did it? Don't want to go Hysterical Bitch Mode on the wrong person. There's Mr. and Ms. Cuddles and wow, Aguirre's in a dress tonight! Hope Uncle Praz doesn't embarrass himself on her again, especially after she opens the little box of toys. Cross them off the list, they wouldn't have shouted something like EAT FUCK KILL at him. They could be like the Leave it to Beaver of bloodsuckers... if the Lost Boys and Portlandia had their wild way with the Cleavers. And Sawyer would definitely be June. Look at him with those cookies and antlers. Yeah, he's forgiven for the Elevator Incident. How do you grudge against a guy in a bow tie? Don't want to ask, but maybe he'll give another hug for Christmas. Now, that dreadlocks woman over there, it wouldn't be beneath her but she didn't have a man's voice. Rough presence that really fills a room like her snow globes filled that little top. Don't know if she has the teeth or not but she's definitely a carnivore and should probably stop staring at her stockings. She'll get the wrong idea. Or not. Most guys would probably have a hard time moving their eyes away from that region below the neck and above the thigh. Fierce by the dictionary definition, Vagina Dentata wouldn't be shocking under that little skirt. Admire... from a distance. Drink more to drown the fear. Oh, look. Another happy couple. It could have been that big guy, but it wasn't because that guy sounded like he should radio host for a rhythm & blues station. Classic rhythm & blues, not the new stuff. God, he looks like a composite of all of Moshe's one night stands. Poor guy would be doomed if he were here, but don't think about Moshe don't think about Moshe don't think about Moshe. This scotch is pretty good. Smooth and warm. Should refill... Sawyer's Mexican friend is here, but that's not so shocking. What is shocking is that he woke up in his pajamas and skipped that entire shower and change into proper clothes ordeal before stepping out. He couldn't be ruled out as Mr. EAT FUCK KILL, but damn. If it was him, at least hope he brushed his fangs if he tries anything. Don't need to be ATE FUCKED KILLED by vampire morning (evening?) breath. Jhael narrowed his eyes. Need to watch that one. Another guy over brooding there. Cute and quiet and can't be crossed off the list. He looks so familiar! Weird. Where did he see him before? Or, did he? Maybe he just looks like someone else. Need to watch him. We can brood across the room at each other and if he shouts again, got my fucking eye on you. Dove's at the cookies. He loves that shit. So glad he's here or think everyone would get pissed I'm taking up the bathroom all night in a panic attack. Need to work on the moves with him. Either he's oblivious or hello, friendzone! Didn't need to figure out any moves for Uncle Praz. Just say hi. Hard to be more blatant than giving ass for Christmas. Shit, maybe should have dropped that off at Leo's for him to open there instead of here. At least my face isn't in it. This is some good scotch. Sniff. Something here smells like... Where did I smell that before? |
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| Toran | Wednesday, 25. December 2013, 21:43 Post #22 |
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The Formerly Hated
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Toran reached down onto the table and picked up a slim roll of wrapping paper which he used to swat the top of Agustin's head with. "Down. Bad Puppy. No ghouls for you." His deep voice was a cavernous rumble, but lightened by the amusement he was feeling. He set the roll back on the table and looked around, noticing the tree was shaking. Given the number of very sharp things on the tree that was sorta bad. He walked around to look behind it at what appeared to be a small ethnic child. Since he knew the person came as a guest he was fairly sure it wasn't some bizarre home invasion but he still turned and walked into the kitchen to find Sawyer. "Hey, um... why do you have a kid hiding behind your Christmas tree? I only ask because I think he's gonna shake some of the shuriken loose in a second. Nice party btw. Baked goods smell great." With that he picked up a small plate and loaded it down with cookies and various other things and started to munch. He had a few bottles of water in his pocket that he'd drink later. He'd learned never to drink from open bowls at a party Mac attended, because gods only know what she might pour into them. He found a seat near the tree, figuring he could at least make sure the thing doesn't topple over and murder anyone. Though, knowing Mac that might be it's intended purpose. |
![]() Toran's Voice Can't leave... can't leave... can't leave the girls will eat me.... | |
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| Cid | Wednesday, 25. December 2013, 22:09 Post #23 |
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Raise the retirement age?
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"Ouch!" Winced Agustin from the paper roll that big goofy fuck hit him with. Immediately he fell down to the floor arms and legs crossed, an impressively cute pout emerging on his face. Adorable in a way. "Hmph!" He huffed with a death glare as the man moved away. It took him a clear moment to process what the fuck just happened. Agustin was scolded like a puppy just humped the kids' legs or somethin'! Meanwhile, that fuckable blonde guy had a look on his face that needed to be covered with copious amounts of goo. After a moment, the asshole in question reemerged and Agustin's devil-grin flashed again. "Mulligan! Eat. Fuck. Kill." He shouted back at the giant dickhead, thrust-pointing at him three times in succession, with a playful ferocity in his tone. "And not in that order." His jokes bellowed through the room, plain and loud as the skull atop the tree, though the last was directed specifically at Toran. If his goal was to be noticed, it should definitely work, for better or worse... Edited by Cid, Wednesday, 25. December 2013, 22:22.
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| Dove | Wednesday, 25. December 2013, 22:31 Post #24 |
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Tramp
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"Mr. Agustin!" Dove frowned at the loudest little vampire, moving on over to stand next to him. "Don't you let Mr. Sawyer hear you shouting things like that at his nice party. It's rude!" Telling-off done with, Dove smiled and turned to the side, hoping to bump his hip against Agustin's. "Besides, was I eat or fuck?" It was out of the question for Dove to assume he might be 'kill'. "We all came in together, was kinda hard to tell where you were pointing." An important detail that needed to be straightened out. post haste! Dove nibbled on his cookie and cast a speculative eye over the other ghouls he arrived with. "Nice to see you, by the way. Where have you been hiding?" |
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We don't have to wait till the morning, the Sun will never go down. And we will be this way forever. Dove stuff! | |
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| Jhael | Wednesday, 25. December 2013, 22:38 Post #25 |
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Prince Blucher's Dinner (still not quite house trained)
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That blonde guy had been trying to locate the source of a familiar smell when EAT FUCK KILL happened again. He looked up to shoot a scandalized scowl where it came from and of course it was the Mexican in pajamas, but he seemed to be saying it to someone else? To the R&B radio. Hmph. Maybe he just had tourettes, but Jhael was still going to watch him. Try anything and he still had a drink to toss. Damn, good scotch. Did have a drink. Should refill that... There we go. Now, that smell... Definitely familiar, just so many other scents in here. A blood bowl and cookies. Feels good to be invited, but damn life is weird now. It's coming from here. What is all this other stuff? How nice of them to have food out for us breathers, some of this looks pretty good. Sawyer is so June! Wait- "Oh, my god..." Jhael murmured with a shaken voice while he stared at a particular dish laid out. |
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| Lucy Fehrer | Wednesday, 25. December 2013, 22:50 Post #26 |
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Art in Ink
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The Brujah had to admit, that guy shouting? She might at some point during the night have to throw something at him, depending on whether or not he was actually trying to be obnoxious. Though, seeing as it was Christmas and they were at someone else's place, Lucy would keep it civil. For now. Chewing on her lip for a moment, the Swede distracted herself by remembering she'd brought gingerbread cookies and quickly moved over to pick the big box of them from the backpack she'd previously left by the tree. It was opened and brought over to the table and placed down so if anyone felt like it they could help themselves. They were at the very least home made, all of them decorated. It... might be she'd had a little too much fun making them, because while they's started out traditional, they'd then gotten artistic, to funky to.... well... At least she'd had fun making them. |
Swedish -German - Russian - English | Tattoo Description
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| Cid | Wednesday, 25. December 2013, 23:20 Post #27 |
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Raise the retirement age?
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The obnoxious-by-consensus young man stood with a bit of a giggle, only one person seemed to enjoy his outburst. Then the little dove popped in to scold him once more, though this time it had a greater effect. The pout returned. "Oh, um..." No one else seemed to laugh at his joke. Quite the contrary, more of them looked angrier if anything. "Sorry." He muttered, Voice still louder than maybe it should be. T'was just the quality of it, noticeable certainly. A part of him wanted to cry at this growing loneliness among so many people... But Dove had an infectious positivity to him, bumping hips and all. A smirk grew on Agustin, 'specially as he remembered the chocolate. "Uh... You're too cute to fuck!" He said with a boop on the smaller boy's nose. He wanted to chew on 'im already! But he would hold his fangs for the sake of this lovely family. "Besides, blondie'd make a better girl, don't ya think?" Another adorable giggle erupted from the awkward Malkavian. Edited by Cid, Wednesday, 25. December 2013, 23:31.
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| Dove | Wednesday, 25. December 2013, 23:53 Post #28 |
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Tramp
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Dove's jaw dropped at Agustin's answer and didn't close again until the vampire tapped him gently on the nose. Too cute to fuck. The words were hard to absorb. Too cute to fuck! "Jeez, Mr. Agustin. Thanks." Dove couldn't look less grateful for the answer. "His name's Jhael, go for it. Tell him to text me and let me know how you get on." Dove reached to slap Agustin on the back as hard as possible while still being able to claim it was a friendly pat, before stalking off to the table to get a drink. People all standing in the way and shit. Dove pushed his way past some, alongside others and squeezed between the tree and someone he didn't recognise to reach for a cup of the booze box or whatever it was that Jhael had brought along, stepping on something soft enough to make him wonder if he'd just broken someone's present. He didn't look down. Deny all knowledge! Too cute to fuck. Too cute to buy his own fucking booze. Dove shot Jhael a dirty look and knocked back the contents of the cup in one go before starting to cough like he had an eighty a day habit. |
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We don't have to wait till the morning, the Sun will never go down. And we will be this way forever. Dove stuff! | |
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| Tzippy | Thursday, 26. December 2013, 00:13 Post #29 |
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Ancilla
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Shit. Shit shit shit shitty shit. Moshe looked up at Toran pleadingly and sighed in relief as the bigger man declined to talk, instead walking off towards the kitchen. Pale eyes peered through the branches of the dangerously decorated Christmas tree, taking care not to slice himself on the various decorations. Definitely them. Okay. Okay. No need to panic. When they were all distracted, he'd make a run for the bathroom and from there, text Aguirre for help so he could make his escape. A plan brilliant in its simplicity. Right. And it might have worked too. Save for the fact that he forgot to account for the spanner in the works that went by the name of Dove. He didn't see or hear what exactly went on between the youth and the other Malkavian, by now all the voices had become a drone of color and noise and rain, but he definitely felt the bony little foot that stomped on his own. He let out a grunt, eyes squeezing shut as he resisted the urge to swear. But there wasn't enough time to suppress the hiss of surprised somewhat pain. Fuck, he was dead. |
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| Jhael | Thursday, 26. December 2013, 00:15 Post #30 |
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Prince Blucher's Dinner (still not quite house trained)
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It was with a strange numbness that he scooped a portion of the ethnic dish to a plate. Plop. Grab a fork. Sit down. He wasn't hungry. He took one bite and put the fork down, his head swimming as he glanced up to catch Dove glaring poison needles at him. He blinked. Did not expect that, or to ever taste this food again. He put his hand over his mouth, a hitch of the breath becoming a hiccup. Why? Jhael furrowed his brow across the room at Dove, his vision blurring with moisture. How is this food here? "Who made this?" His voice was small, trembling like a child. One of the women he didn't know, the one who let them in, approached with batches of cookies. In a daze, he grabbed one, but he wasn't hungry so he stared at it as if lost. It's a butt. |
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| Church | Thursday, 26. December 2013, 00:21 Post #31 |
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Putting the 'fun' in 'dysfunctional'
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People. I fucking hate people. Flint. It's all his good damn fault. The decorations were...acceptable. I would've thrown the tree out of the window, but the few windows this apartment actually has are plastered over. Also, I liked looking up at Hammy all crisp and clean, with that marvellous and contagious grin, and sunken eye sockets that seem to will you set on fire. With a pretty bow on top. I sure like the ornament more than Aguirre but point is moot cause Mac did it. What she didn't do was invite a bunch of strangers to my gorram apartment for something I struggle to find remotely 'merry.' I don't like the great majority of people in the world. I have people I know and trust, and I'm fine with that. I don't need more people to turn on me cause frankly of my current three friends, I'm pretty sure circumstances could turn two of them on me. No points for guessing who the odd one out is. I straighten up, ruffling the hair into some sort of natural shape after lying on my bed like a sulking child. I'd gone fetal when Sawyer put on that jacket, hid in my room and lay there waiting. Alert for the sounds of the motherfuckers who are coming to ruin my night and steal all my stuff. I had maybe convinced myself that I could actually enjoy this time of year, when London finally chills the fuck out and I can get some peace. Maybe when grandpa snaps and massacres all the houseguests, then he can get some peace. I emerge from my room, dressed in the usual get up of cargo trousers and a green hoodie, teeth grinding in apprehension as I step into the living room...and the noise. And who should I see? Oh good. "Hey Flint, listen-" I make a beeline for the Nosferatu as soon as I see him, halting him for a second with a hand, not overly concerned what the fuck he's doing. "you might wanna let the guests know that if I catch any of them in my room, they die." I'm sure I had more ground rules, but spotting Mac and what she's wearing is distraction enough. So I just look at him hard, along with the scruffy son of a bitch that's in tow. He gets a different look, even harder eyes, but a headshake that I hope asks the question: 'who the fuck are you?' A look I afford several of the unwelcome guests, or at least unwelcome to me, before it lingers on the blood punch bowl. Huh. I am kinda hungry. Flint really pulled all the stops on the refreshment, and it at least lets me know everyone here is in the know about you know what. Bet there's some fucking capes here, jebus, under my fucking roof? Not that I'm saying the Anarchs here are particularly welcome, though I'm more inclined to give them a chance and prove they're not an asshole. Probably a good reason to stay away from Mac for health and safety reasons. I fill a dixie cup, not quite sure if I've ever drank the stuff like this before. I lift it to my lips...catch a scent. A spice. Hooched blood...something I have had an estranged relationship with. Something I shouldn't really drink. But hell...it's the holidays right? Might make this night fucking bearable. So I drain that fucker before anyone can stop me anyway. Heh. Just the taste gives me sort of a fuzz in my head. Not even half a pint and I get a buzz that's, well, like dining on a certain ghoul. But tonight, I'm afraid it ain't gonna be enough. So I fill it again, drain it again. Rinse and repeat. Till a dogs bark of a cough annoys me enough to turn my head. Seriously, who the fuck are these people? Who the fuck is this guy? In a word? Kid. A skinny little kid all pent up and steaming about something and it's so god damn early still. He thinks he's got problems? He should get in my head for a few hours. It's weird. He's weird. Like, he looks like he's alive...but barely. He looks like the kind of guy who shouldn't be here, and sure shouldn't be radiating all these negative vibes. Do I care about his upset feelings? No. Does alcohol really work that fast? I guess. It has been a while. And it sure would explain why I take steps towards him, a finger sticking out the grasp on the cup and coming to a stop a few inches out from his chest and ask a question. I'll try not to laugh at how much weight I have on him. "Da fuck are you supposed to be?" That's a hospitable question to ask right? Even if I do growl it at the little shit. |
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| Lucy Fehrer | Thursday, 26. December 2013, 00:37 Post #32 |
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Art in Ink
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The Swede's eyes turned to Jhael with a smile. "Det va jag. Det är pepparkakor" she grinned before snapping her fingers, wrong language damn it. "I made'm, it's Swedish gingerbread cookies. It's my mom's old recipe" Lucy nodded, switching back to English when old habit had her answering in Swedish the first time around. "And yes, it's a butt. With a lace thong" this was important, seeing as she'd noticed the look he was giving the cookie. One that said he wasn't entirely sure how to deal with it. She paused though when she noticed the emotion in his look and gently placed a hand on his shoulder while her expression softened. "Hey, you alright?" the still human looking Brujah said gently, ignoring whatever else was going on around them as she tilted her head slightly to the side, sitting down on her haunches so she could look at him and meet his eyes despite the downward cast gaze. Edited by Lucy Fehrer, Thursday, 26. December 2013, 00:38.
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Swedish -German - Russian - English | Tattoo Description
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| Jhael | Thursday, 26. December 2013, 00:51 Post #33 |
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Prince Blucher's Dinner (still not quite house trained)
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No, he shook his head to the woman's question. He wished he could eat the butt. It looked quite nice and would be polite. Why is he mad at me? Something dropped from his face to the dish he couldn't even comprehend right now. Maybe he drank too much too fast. "Do you know..." Voice going weird. Tight and uneven. He cleared his throat. "Do you know who brought this?" He lifted the plate with a scoop of doro wat. |
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| Toran | Thursday, 26. December 2013, 00:58 Post #34 |
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The Formerly Hated
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Toran was starting to feel a certain problem he'd experienced at other parties. That "if I move, I'm going to step on someone." sensation. There were a number of what looked like 17 to 20 year old boys moving around the party, and a number of rather grumpy looking vampires shifting around the place. Some sort of odd geometric design kept them from completely running into each other, but he had this feeling that if he took even a step, he was going to break the pattern and cause a massive traffic jam. He reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose as he contemplating how to get out of the center of this web of movement and shift back to a location where he could sit down without breaking anything. At least the furniture wasn't that cheap plastic ikea stuff. He always broke that shit when he sat down. Let's see... kids were THERE.... crazy vampire's were THERE... THERE... and THERE. Lucy was THERE next to one of the kids. OK. He could do this. He lifted his plate of food over his head and... hit the ceiling. Looking up at it like it betrayed him he sighed and brought his arm down until the plate was just above his head, then tucked his elbow as close to the side of his head as he could. Scuttling somewhat like a crap he managed to make it past several of the teenagers wrapped in their life changing conversations, most likely about being misunderstood or sex. Getting over to the wall he looked around again, then sat, straight down. And sort of hopped in pain as he sat on a shuriken that fell off the tree. MAC. He might have to throw it at her if he could line up a clear shot. Instead, he hung it back on the tree and sort of tucked his plate up to his stomach so he could eat. Hopefully without getting stepped on. |
![]() Toran's Voice Can't leave... can't leave... can't leave the girls will eat me.... | |
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| Lucy Fehrer | Thursday, 26. December 2013, 01:30 Post #35 |
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Art in Ink
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"Oh... oh..." damn it... The gesture might not be welcomed, but she didn't think about it as she pulled the sleeve over her sweater dress over her hand and reached up to brush it lightly over his cheek to catch the few tears that might still be lingering. "I'm sorry... I don't know..." Lucy said gently, still with a soft smile on her lips. From the corner of her eyes she noticed Toran doing the awkward dance across the floor until he could plop down on the floor by one of the walls. Though her attention stayed on the kid, well Lucy would've called him a kid anyway simply because he was younger than her, as he was obviously in a bit of an emotional state. |
Swedish -German - Russian - English | Tattoo Description
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| Dove | Thursday, 26. December 2013, 01:54 Post #36 |
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Tramp
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Oh God, oh God! For an awful second, Dove thought he was going to cough until he puked, but the burn eventually wore off and he could suck in air past his tight throat and breathe again, the plastic cup crumpled up tight in one fist. What was he supposed to be. Supposed to be? Like, was it fancy dress and nobody remembered to tell him? "Lesser-spotted too cute to fuck." Dove wheezed, wiping his mouth with the back of his empty hand. "Ugh, what is that? Who the hell drinks this stuff? Tastes like crap! Uh..." The big guy was... Big, Dove noticed now that he wasn't trying to cough his guts up. "I'm a friend of Mr. Sawyer and Aggy-Gary." When in doubt, name-drop the host. Even better if you do actually know them, and Dove most definitely did. "Name's Dove." Dove started to extend a hand in greeting before having second thoughts. "Tonight I'm filling the role of the ugly friend who the pretty one brings along to make themselves look even better." Dove smiled despite the burning sting he still felt from Agustin's words. "But I'm working on it, eh? I promised Ms. Leo I'd go back so full of Christmas cheer she could suck it out of me. Literally." Not sure his speech was having quite the desired effect, Dove pulled out all the stops to impress with his last comment. "I'm an artist. I totally know that art thing." Aww yeah, that'll do it. |
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We don't have to wait till the morning, the Sun will never go down. And we will be this way forever. Dove stuff! | |
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| Jhael | Thursday, 26. December 2013, 02:20 Post #37 |
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Prince Blucher's Dinner (still not quite house trained)
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A blurry hand came close and every muscle locked very still, not even breathing while she rubbed his face. Humiliating, but that's not her fault. Even him now... "Someone I knew made this. It's... it's really good. If you can eat, should try it," he began haltingly, dropping his voice to near whisper to try to hide the shakiness. "Thought he was-" With a sudden hitch of breath, he put the plate aside to fish his wallet from his pocket. His hands were trembling as he fumbled through various business cards, credit cards, folded notes and bills. He pulled out a printed picture and held it up to show Lucy. A small, wild haired ethnic teenager. Beat up and awkward with a goofy smile. Moshe Klein. "He's older now, 'bout mid twenties. Still short as fuck," he rubbed under his nose with a mirthless snort. Fuck. While holding the picture up, he left the wallet on his lap to dig into his other pocket for a pack of moist towelettes. "Have you seen him?" |
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| Cid | Thursday, 26. December 2013, 02:25 Post #38 |
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Raise the retirement age?
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Agustin was so thoroughly confused by Dove's reaction to his answer, he couldn't help but linger where he stood. Almost paralyzed by wtf? He called him cute! And gave him a boop at that! The Fuck?! "But.." He barely mumbled aloud. 'Little chocolate flavored boy...' How could everyone be getting so angry with him? Was Agustin truly unlikeable? It would explain his lot in unlife... "Hey!" The Lunatic finally managed to blurt out. He couldn't tell what was going on anymore. Everything seemed to be getting out of whack, as if Agustin's very essence was bleeding out into reality. "I didn't mean it..." He trailed off as the giant from before attempted his awkward maneuvers through the encroaching domicile, just missing Agustin with his plate of kooky cookies. Jheal looked shell-shocked or something sitting by a table with the pink lady and her cookies. That was fucking weird, too. The Malkavian, compelled by a need to rectify his own perplexion, closed the gap that had formed between him and Dove. A couple steps through the space. The object of his befuddlement now being interrogated by a man much more intimidating than Agustin. Which could be pretty intimidating, if you were afraid of crazy people, that is. A hand on the kid's shoulder before the big guy could continue, in between Dove's own words. "I ain't really gonna fuck the blond. I was hoping to get a second taste o' you, though! T'was only a joke. I'm sorry... Dove?" Now Agustin was the one who looked hurt, so sudden was the shift from happy bird to angry bird. Edited by Cid, Thursday, 26. December 2013, 02:28.
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| Church | Thursday, 26. December 2013, 02:43 Post #39 |
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Putting the 'fun' in 'dysfunctional'
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I stare at the strange little man. Lost for words. I take it he's not a fanger then, the way them lungs are gettin' all chewed up, but even so, the verbal spew I unwittingly opened on myself leaves me dumbfounded. Who did what in the where for the why? Huh? I take a few mouthfuls of vitae before I can even hope to respond. Maybe not drown myself in the stuff, gotta leave room for a certain somebody. Though...I'm pretty sure I know a good way of burning off the excess. Maybe I should just wander away from this looney-toon, grab my fuck buddy and hide away. But I don't. Why? Dunno, I'm a fucking idiot? "W-...Uh. Well. First of all...fuck. First - don't you fuck here. You're not allowed. Unless you can convince Mr. Sawyer and Aggy-Gary for use of their room I 'spose..." I manage that out, a blend of annoyance at the idea that all these strangers are here to go have an orgy in my room. And considering the majority of these people are dudes...don't get me wrong, Church can and has swung the other way. But really, no pussy? "Second...uh...Y-You...speak English, right?" I'm sure that was English, but, it just didn't seem to make one god damn ounce of sense. I mean, Mr. Sawyer and Aggy-Gary? Dove? So out of context I can't really piece together, well, anything. Or this guy really is a whackjob and I have translated superbly well - I just...don't comprehend. "Well, sounds like you an' Ms. Leo gonna have plenty fun with all tha' suckin'. So...y'know, cheer the fuck up. Dove. Dove. You're name is seriously Dove?" I manage to get the words out, sporadic and confused though they may be. Seriously, what kind of monkey ass name was Dove? Did they get those in Britain? Pigeon maybe. And with that, I find myself lured in - a rough hand gravitating closer and closer to this fruit loop. "I'm Church..." Don't really feel compelled to tell him this is my place, that I am a certified 'doctor' of sorts, and that I am confused as hell by this boy. Even moreso when another stranger barges into the picture, apologising and vowing not to fuck the blonde. "Who in the fuck are you now?" My brow furrows in immense confusion. Seriously, I just came out here and I'm getting mind fucked by every god damn freak in London. "You think we're all swingers or summit? Or are ya'll the pretty friend who likes to look better? Thought you said he was pretty..."My eyes flit between them, and I end that sentence on something of an irregular tone as I talk to 'Dove' like a friend and sort of channel his angst against this newest of newcomers. When I realise I did it, I look at the Dixie cup and frown. If one of my friends could please stop me acting like a moron, or one of my 'non-friends' could give me a reason to break some noses, that'd be sweet. I sip the Dixie cup. Aguirre has a lot to answer for... |
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| Toran | Thursday, 26. December 2013, 02:53 Post #40 |
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The Formerly Hated
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Toran bemusedly contemplated Dove the artist and Agustin the foot-in-mouth-ist and contemplated that this was a very weird conversation to be having. And he wasn't even having it. As he opened his mouth the pajama clad one stomped over what he was gonna say. To avoid looking like he had no clue what was going on he simply popped a cookie in his mouth and chewed, staring at them with frosty blue eyes. He had no idea what was going on. Also, this cookies were fucking weird. Why did his toes feel all numb and shit? He looked back and forth between Dove and Agustin and tried to contemplate the perfect respond to destroying teen angst. He was fairly certain that this was somehow related to teen angst. Was vampire teen angst worse than regular teen angst? He looked over at Lucy.... who was tending another teenager who was crying. OK... even the Christmas Parties in solitary confinement had less awkwardness than this. "Ummmm.... " His voice was a deep, thrumming tone as he tried to think of what to say to follow up that witty remark. "You don't look ugly to me? You look... regal." And then he ate another cookie, to stop the completely bizarre nonsense from coming out of his mouth. Why did he have the urge to have a conversation about mammals that can't jump? |
![]() Toran's Voice Can't leave... can't leave... can't leave the girls will eat me.... | |
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3:18 PM Jul 11