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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Sawyer Flint's Christmas Spectacular; Closed party thread; no post order!
Topic Started: Sunday, 22. December 2013, 10:11 (6,192 Views)
Dove
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Tramp
* * * * * *
Mushy Kleen! Here he was, in the flesh. Dove had tried several times to ring him to apologise for the state of his photo frames. It wasn't Dove's fault he got dropped on them and they cracked! The young ghoul had done everything he could to keep the family snaps intact and unharmed, but things had gone a bit wrong somewhere along the line.

"I tried calling, you never answered your phone!" Dove wrapped his arms tightly around Moshe's neck and held on like a prize Rodeo star. "I'm so sorry about your photos! They were in my backpack and I sort of lay on them for a while... I couldn't help it! I really did do everything I could to keep them safe for you. I hope you can salvage what was left by the time they got found." Dove squeezed extra hard for a moment, poor Mushy. He must have loved his family to have all those pictures hung up.

"And your dad, or your granddad... Total fox! Could see you in him, whoever he was. The guy standing with the plane. Rrrrow." Going for gold, Dove pressed a loud MWAH kiss on Moshe's cheek before letting the poor guy get some air.

"Did Jhael just pee himself?"

Hellooooo. Dove's eyes moved from the bathroom door to the dropped phone. Wouldn't want anyone standing on that now, would we? Not for the first time and certainly not for the last... Dove picked up Jhael's phone and slipped it into his pocket.
Edited by Dove, Friday, 27. December 2013, 20:10.

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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Toran
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The Formerly Hated
* * * * * *
Toran slowly climbed to his feet and set Lucy down, giving her a kiss on her forehead. His deep voice a soft rumble as he looked at her affectionately with his frosty blue eyes.

"I think I need to get some air babe."

He shifted as best he could through the crowd and out the door. It was a long walk downstairs and he felt a lil dizzy but he should be fine once he could take a few deep breaths in a space that wasn't so crowded with people. He wasn't at his best with that much noise and chaos and he was pretty sure he'd managed to get caught up in one of Mac's spiked party favors somehow. Either way he needed to get some air and standing on the road side and just relaxing in the night air seemed pretty damned appealing all the sudden.
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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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Church
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Putting the 'fun' in 'dysfunctional'
* * * *
I try to follow. Try to understand. My hand pulls back to me and I look at it in disbelief, silently scorning it for acting so silly. Back to listening to the torrent of complete and utter shit of 'Dove,' and despite being so confused by what he's saying, being a friend of Sawyer and Aguirre...he seemed to be more along the lines of their love child. Kind. Innocent even, which is a tricky description to get when you're vowing not to fuck on someone's bed. Or coffin. Laughing at the very idea that my name is Church. Calling me Mr. Church, Jebus, has anyone ever called me that ever? Apologising to the 'not pretty' one, who Dove lets me know is Mr. Agustin, though what comes out of his mouth doesn't exactly cry out to me as trustworthy.

"Polite nibbler eh? Remind me no'ta get her number off of ya..." It's about all I can manage out whilst dealing with these strange people. Without being sick on them anyway. Not that I know who Ms. Leo is or how reputable her sucking habits are, but it's at least a topic I could discuss in great detail with just about anyone. I don't wanna though. This kid is freaking me out. Everyone here is freaking me out.

I follow 'Mr. Agustin's' line of sight, a terrified look crossing over his face and I raise an eyebrow at the reason why. Seriously, does Mac know these freaks too? Jebus. Why? Shouldn't she like, crack them open and eat them up? Maybe she doesn't realise. Maybe I should make her realise. Whisper something like "Princess, honey, please... Fuckin' save me from this shit. Burn the place down. I swear all these fuck's are crazier than me..." Under normal circumstances I might be more tactful about what I am about to say. Knowing Mac well, better than anyone maybe, she's not gonna like what comes out of my mouth. And you know what that means? Did she not think Doc Fanger was a Malk? Cause Doc is feeling that way about every god damn face he looks at tonight.

As the Dove mumbles something and starts to make his w- oh for fucksake he's crawling under the table. "Don't - Jebus, what the fuck is wrong with these people? - don't steal any shit. Dove." Fuck it. I turn back to the punch bowl, filling my fourth cup. I'm perfectly happy to stay right here, checking over my shoulder every once in a while so as to not

Screeching, shouting, fucking screaming of bloody murder, roaring voices and slamming doors. Fucking Merry Christmas. Ignore it Church, just get drunk, follow Mac into the kitchen and have that usual filth ridden and innuendo stuffed conversation. Stuff your fingers in your ears, make equally loud and annoying sounds to drown out those dumb fucks and let Flint sort his freakish friends out. What's he gonna do though, really? Politely ask for them to shut the fuck up? No, no, no, that won't do at all. Need something bolder; make enough of an impact that these swines will be left with the choices of behaving or leaving. Maybe it's the booze, maybe it's the whacky upbringing, but this horrid idea strikes a chord in Church's heart. His heart? My heart. Uugh, this blood is good.

I make my way to the kitchen. To find something flammable.
Edited by Church, Friday, 27. December 2013, 23:33.
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Dawid Prazmowski
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Ancilla
* * * *
Dawid had been content to nom on a handful of cookies, some of which had been slipped into his coat, another which was kept in his hand. The cookies were nice. Relaxing. Good, festive food. He'd been hungry on arrival, and this remedied that state in a way that was more relaxing than expected. He'd been content in that way until the heap of writhing teenage limbs near the martially decorated Christmas tree suggested a familiar face that had not been seen in quite some time.

"Mr. Klein! My God, Merry Christmas, good man! T'was as if you'd sailed for India and had fallen off the face of the earth these last weeks!"

He had not, of course, been informed of anything.

Aiming to be uncharacteristically helpful towards his fellow man, his hand would reach out to grab that of Moshe, intending to help him up. "You ought to try some of the remaining cookies", he confided. "They are gatekeepers of true delight."
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Tzippy
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Ancilla
* * * *

Well, that was it. Doom. He was doomed.

Numbly, Moshe watched Jhael scurry off. Probably to call Alarik or something. He grimaced as Dove tumbled into him, arms going around his neck. He tensed up, forcing his breathing to remain calm and even, echoes of silver and gold driving into his skull. He closed his eyes tightly.

Focus. Focus on the words.

"My.... My father. He is my father," his own voice was faint and he couldn't help to open his eyes again and look towards the bathroom door. Probably best he got out of here. Right now. Before he got jumped walking out of the flat. Shooting apologetic glances to Aguirre and Sawyer, he tried to gently shrug off Dove. He had gotten used to controlling his strength as a ghoul but with his nerves right now, the grip he clasped on Dove's hands to pry them away might be painful.

"Careful.... Careful. Going to... Well, strangle me."

And then there was a hand before him. He took it to stand without much thought and suddenly there was Dawid. Dawid who was terrifyingly old and experienced and knowledgeable and Moshe felt guilty and exposed just standing in front of him. He knew. He had to know. Had to be testing him.

"Oh... Oh. I'm sorry. I'm.... not very hungry," he straightened with another weak smile, eyes flicking between the bathroom and the front door, "So... Um... How are you?"

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Mac
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Goddess of Fuck and War
* * * * *
Holy shit Sawyer really was baking all day wasn't he? What the fuck? How... did he manage the wide assortment of holiday treats. Why did he -bother- being all.. Dead and shit? He couldn't enjoy it. Did he just enjoy being Martha Slut Monster Stewart so much the holidays really were a god damned event for him? That was something she couldn't understand, the holidays.

Happy fun times with your family? Well, had to have one... She had a dead Papa she'd murdered three decades ago, an estrange Ma that he hasn't seen in the same amount of time. Mel's... Oh look, special cookies. Thank fucking god, she was about to lose her shit with that train of thought. Anyways, she sort of had a fucked up familyish now. People at least she didn't angst at and hate the way she hated the rest of the world. She'd had a decent time making fun of Sawyer while he decorated the christmas tree, and then an even better time assisting his decorating skills when his back was turned. Tree had been really boring before she got to redecorate it, although Aguirre wasn't a fan of Hammy still. Ah, family woes. Course, they were lost in this sea of fucking crazy shit going on. Could she hear giggling fits behind her? God, she was not turning around. Into the kitchen and out of the fucking war zone.

Her heels clicked along the tiled floor, the calm blocking of noise making this place somewhat of a haven compared to the busy living room area. Hahaha, of course the kitchen would be quiet. They were mostly dead folk that didn't need to eat! Human events usually saw people clustered over the food hanging out in the kitchen, fangers had a bit of a different atmosphere about them didnt they? She hopped up on the kitchen counter in the same space that she'd had bullets fished out of her guts a few weeks back, and her arm re-attached in a macabre and poor as fuck redition of an operating table. That's exactly where the special cookies had been laid, like Aguirre knew in advance Mac would need the safe space of memories of blood shed to hide in. And weed. Copious amounts of weed cookies. It looked like 'copious' had been an over statement, or... others had gotten to the cookies first. She set the plate on her lap, re-arranging the remaining cookies in a strange layered pattern around the edges.

The first bite was beautiful. On top of chocolate chips, that was a stuble vanilla underneath the overpoweringly green and herby flavor of her favorite pass time. She took another bite, and let her eyes close as she slowly enjoyed a chew that left her entire mouth tingling with the delicious flavor of weed.
The house was to tight, to cramped...there were to many people. She had a hard time in enclosed spaces sometimes at the best of times, but packing a whole bus load of Fangers she barely knew, or simply didn't like? Well, that was hard. Everyone who still had a head on their shoulders should feel fucking lucky.

She started another cookie.
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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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Cid
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Raise the retirement age?
* * * * * *
Agustin met Lucy's hand with another fist-bump, a touch less awesome than the epic bro-fist he had just shared with Toran. "Nice to meet ya, Lucy. Tauren cray. You do seem kinda cray-" The Lunatics latest witty remark was interrupted by what at first glance appeared to be an all-male orgy he wasn't invited to. With screams of either pleasure or agony erupting from the pile of boy-flesh writhing on the floor for all attendees to see. It was inevitable to happen at this sausage fest. Agustin was more of a taco kinda guy, though he didn't particularly have anything against the sausage. Even liked to look, maybe pay a compliment to the chef, once in a while. Gotta appreciate other cultures' cuisine, eh?

Gods, this place was chaos. Although half of the disorder may very well be only in Agustin's headspace, or just as much his own doing. Too many people were already high or drunk or whatever the fuck vampires get certain ways. And Toran just left. Great... One less chill person to hang with. "Anyway, Lucy..." He tried to steer the convo as best he could manage. "Merry Christmas! Feliz Navidad! D'ya bring any presents?" An uncharacteristic but welcome grin staying on the Lunatic's face as he tried not to stir the potluck any more than he already had.
Edited by Cid, Saturday, 28. December 2013, 22:45.
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Dove
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Tramp
* * * * * *
"Cookies are pretty boss, he's not wrong." Dove gestured vaguely to Dawid as he tried to help Moshe back to his feet, and in doing so had to release the unintentional stranglehold he had on the smaller man - although Mushy himself was helping him do that. Fingers digging into Dove's bony wrist hard enough to make him gasp just before the grip was released. "Don't wanna try that shit in a box that Jhael brought though, it's viiiile." Dove pouted as he rubbed the wrist with his other hand, hardly nice to get all shouty at Mushy for being a bit rough. Not when there were so much better ways to get someone's goat. "Hey, so, your Dad. He in London too? He still got that uniform?" Dove grinned, and remembering the recently claimed prize he fished out Jhael's phone while the Jhael in question was still occupied with drying his trousers or whatever he was doing.

"Hey, well, you know, should go get cookies anyway. I'll eat them if you're not hungry." Jhael's text messages really were the epitome of boring. Nearly all the ones Dove scrolled through were his - Butterfly, he noted, and smiled at the chosen moniker. Other names appeared briefly, the conversations vaguely worded impatient orders for this and that. Dove raised an eyebrow, AWintour must be someome important. Disappointed with the gossip potential of the texts (anything gossip worthy already came from him), he moved onto the picture gallery.

Oh, well now...

Dove angled himself so that the pictures remained in his sight only after glancing back to make sure nobody stood beside him. This was interesting, yes. Jhael's photos were many, but there was a theme among the random shots of buildings and people and yes, that one picture Dove had taken of the other ghoul's ass while he slept.

The Prince looking at something. The picture wasn't straight, the phone held at an angle. Dove guessed that the picture was not taken with the knowledge of the subject.

The Prince looking at something else, pulling a funny face. A more level picture than the first but slightly blurred. Snap and run?

A third one. Perfect distance, perfect position. The Prince... Asleep? Yes. A rare thing for Dove to feel, guilt. Flicking the screen to the front page he slipped the phone back into his pocket and looked back to Dawid and Mushy.

"Sailed for India? Maaan... Now I want a curry. What's in that thing there?" He pointed to Moshe's own contribution. The most curryish looking dish of the table.

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
Prince Blucher's Dinner (still not quite house trained)
* * * * * *
It wasn't long until Jhael emerged from the bathroom with a damp towel bundled in his hand. A wild flush was spread over his usually pale cheeks, but he was more composed after that emergency piss and a good sink splash. His top now hung on the rack with a need for a good dry clean after spilling the scotch, so now he was just in a simple, white cotton undershirt that was no doubt overpriced because of the label.

"Wow, you're still there. Wasn't imagining things," he said in a soft, somewhat dazed voice before getting to his knees. "Sorry. Sorry about that," he murmured to everyone while spreading the towel over the small spill region. Lifting his gaze to Moshe, Dove, Dawid, then back to Moshe, the young man actually smiled. A sincere, open-mouthed, boyish smile, his bangs mussed over glassy blue eyes. "I thought you were dead! Thought you ran off to Tel Aviv, then I found your wallet and I thought you were dead! Smelled that stuff you made and turned on the fucking waterworks," he rolled his eyes at himself while scrubbing the floor and collecting some spilled cookies and crumbs in his palm. "Well, now I can enjoy it, so thanks for not being dead. Where have you been? Hiding here?" Head tilted in question to Moshe, he held up his handful of butt cookies in offering to the three men, gaze flitting with brief uncertainty to Dove.
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Lucy Fehrer
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Art in Ink
* * * * * *
Toran's initial reaction got a small yelp before she was set down as the big guy up and left to get some fresh air. Mmm, she couldn't blame him. He hadn't been the most social person when she'd first met him, and while he'd opened up a lot since then, he probably wasn't used to big crows of people. And right now there was a lot of people in little space.

Someone must've added a bit extra to the cookies considering he'd said he hadn't drank anything...

She fished out her phone and sent him a text while turning to the Malk and giving him a smile.
"Yeah, I did, I made one for everyone actually. It's not much but yeah, I thought it might be nice with a little something" so she'd drawn and painted a whole damn lot to manage to get it done on time. And that without even knowing if anyone would like them, heh.

The text to Toran read: "Hey, baby. I'll be down in a few alright? We can take a walk and clear your head a little. Love you"
Swedish -German - Russian - English | Tattoo Description
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Toran
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The Formerly Hated
* * * * * *
@InkedNCollared Sounds good love. I'm just gonna sit on the curb and breath the night air. Take your time. I won't get in trouble.
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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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Sawyer
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Friendly Neighborhood Vampire
* * * * * *
He weaved through the party guests with a grin plastered to his face, one hand pushing Cadence's shoulder along. The guy looked like he was ready to just bolt, so Sawyer patted him encouragingly. "I'll have to introduce you around to everybody later, buddy! You get out much in London? 'Mazin' the sort of folks you can run into... like those lil' guys!"

Sawyer waved one hand in the general direction of Agustin and Dove, who looked as if they might tear into each other at any second, standing uncomfortably over near the punch bowl full of blood. "See, each of 'em just lil' stray kittens somebody picked up on the street. And now? Well, they're just as good as brothers! I mean, just look at 'em gettin' along, it makes me so happy!"

Man, they looked like they were having fun! Cracking jokes, talking about pretty friends! And there was Church, good ol' Grandpa come to ruffle the kids' hair and tell 'em stories about all the silly things their Vampire Ma and Pa got up to- wow! This really was just like a real family! Sawyer couldn't contain the warm and cheerful vibes radiating out of him, and every enthusiastic step to the kitchen sent the bells on his reindeer antlers jingling.

Finally, it was time to present his Brujah with the first half of her Christmas present, complete with sparkly bow. Squee!

"My dearest beautiful darlin', this young fella came a hell of a long way to meet ya." He smiled unguardedly, glancing between them with barely-contained excitement. "Cadence, Aguirre. Aguirre, Cadence."

The Nosferatu stepped back with a flourish, eager to see the pairs' reaction. God, it was eerie to see how closely the two faces mirrored each other in the most unexpected way. Cadence's forced and anxious smile was identical to the one Aguirre wore in, well, most every awkward situation. Someone a little more empathetic might've felt bad about forcing two introverts into an emotionally charged meeting in front of a crowd of near-strangers- but not Sawyer! Instead, he whipped out his iPhone and filmed the next, surely adorable six seconds for the world to witness and squee at.

With public embarrassment out of the way, he smiled even wider. "Okay, okay. I'll leave y'all to catch up on stuff 'n things, right?" He darted away with an encouraging wink. Surely they'd like a little alone time now that he'd sprung them on each other, right? That would make sense! And, uh, if one of 'em started cryin' or somethin', he wasn't sure he'd have the faintest idea how to help, soooo... better to avoid all that.

As he made his way back into the chattering crowd, he tried to figure out how he might react if he suddenly ran into one of Huck's kids. What if they were every inch as solemn and awkward and sad-looking as his older brother? A house full of mini-Hucks was a truly bone-chilling thought- probably watched C-SPAN instead of morning cartoons and dressed like little zombies out of a J. Crew catalogue. As far as he knew, though, they were still in what, middle school? Hardly likely to come hunting him down, 'specially not a world away.

The sight of three of his favorite ghouls shook him back to reality. Erm, make that two, he thought with a brief pang of guilt as he looked at a very pale, panicked Moshe. Huh, that sure didn't seem like an appropriate response to seeing Dove and Jhae- oh shit.

They didn't know.

"Uh, hey, y'all!" Sawyer interjected cheerfully, wrapping one protective arm around Moshe's shoulder. No more questions, kids. Back off the baby Malk. "Havin' a good time? Whatcha got there, Mr. Jail? Are those butts? I think I'd remember bakin' butts!"
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Tzippy
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Ancilla
* * * *

Moshe flinched slightly at mention of his father, letting out a small huff as he pulled away from Dove, expression forced to neutrality. There was no hiding the fear in his eyes though, no matter how much he fought it. The slight catch in his voice. Amazement lingering in his words as he studied them, having nothing to do with the statements he uttered. Fixated on how color and sound and touch seemed to have changed those once well known on a fundamental level.

"My father... He is sixty one and lives in New York City. That picture was taken in the eighties, at the earliest. His hair is not black anymore."

Not to mention the new scars trailing down his face, souvenirs from a nasty car wreck when Moshe was barely a toddler. The powerful frame of youth turned to rangy strength. A man Moshe was still in awe of despite what had come between them. What had always been between them.

Vaguely, he wondered if Simon Klein had even noticed or cared he had fallen off the face of the planet.

Luckily, Dove didn't seem to notice the deeper fall of his mood, fixated on his phone. And didn't that spike of annoyance at the sight make Moshe feel old? Damned kids. Always fiddling with their phones and letting their attention wander. Before he could become too entrenched in his grumpy musings though, Jhael reappeared. Smiling, of all the damned things.

Moshe was shocked. Surprise? Anger? Yes. Maybe even a cruelty tinged smirk as he was dragged off to face the music, if he really wanted to be pessimistic.

But a genuinely "happy to see you" smile?

He stared stupidly for a moment before remembering himself. Voice soft as he struggled for an explanation. His words drifting vaguely as he reached for something, anything remotely plausible. He wasn't prepared for this and he was always a terrible liar if he didn't have time to practice and think it over.

"Of course I am not dead. I am talking.... Moving... Yes... Not hiding.... Just about."

He glanced down at the cookies, about to wave them off when a strong arm was suddenly around his shoulders, causing him to squeak with surprise and what was definitely alarm. His eyes flew up, teeth baring, and- Oh. Sawyer. Sawyer was good. He leaned against the bigger vampire, shoulders sagging with relief as the Nosferatu took over the talking bit.


Edited by Tzippy, Sunday, 29. December 2013, 09:47.
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Dove
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Tramp
* * * * * *
"Mr. Sawyer, this is such a great party! You know so many people. And all this food and decorations and oh, the tree! That's... Not real, is it? The head on the top, I mean." Dove eyed the decoration in question with a smile. Vampire humour! "It's wonderful, really. Thank you so much for inviting me." Though the big Nosferatu already had an arm around Mushy, it didn't stop Dove from managing to squeeze in and give Mr. Sawyer a quick hug of his own. Quick, mind! Aggy-Gary already had a face like thunder and Dove didn't want to cause trouble.

"What's wrong with you, and where are your clothes disappearing to?" Dove took a butt-cookie and poked Jhael enquiringly. "It's a party, don't be sad. Look at all these happy people!" Dove flung both arms wide to make his point. All these happy people! Well... Dove was happy, and Mr. Sawyer was happy... And some of the others had smiled a little. At some point. Kind of. Alright, so the happiest of them all seemed to be the tree-top decoration, the only one with a permanent grin or, you know, maybe a grimace. Grin, Dove decided. Glass half full! "Oh! I should send Ms. Leo a text!" Pulling out his own battered phone with the crack running the length of the (still functional) touch-screen, Dove kept his new boss up to speed.

Text to Ms. Mancini Lady.


"Awww, so that picture is probably as old as I am? Damn." Dove pouted at Moshe's further information on the photo. Sixty one was far too old. People would say dreadful things. "Shame. But he is very handsome, or he was. Probably still is. You got a recent pic?"

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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Dawid Prazmowski
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Ancilla
* * * *
Still quite oblivious about what was going on, the older ghoul accepted the rear-shaped cookie and stuffed it into his mouth, chewing it down as quickly as he could while he listened to the events as they unfolded.

"I've been quite well, thank you, dear colleague", he eventually volunteered, when Moshe asked him the question. "I am well-fed and quite content, for a change. 't feels like my life has purpose once again. If only we should go on our foreign trip soon, wouldn't you say? After the holidays, of course. After the holidays."

He glanced at Dove, and then back towards Moshe: "I see that you've met the young Avian? He is quite something. Spark of life, I dare say! Springy, yet still ready to be molded into whatever shape's desired."
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Jhael
Prince Blucher's Dinner (still not quite house trained)
* * * * * *
"Yes," Jhael blinked as Sawyer joined the semi-circle around him. "They're... butts," he said with a breathy chuckle while Dove and Dawid accepted the ass treats. "That... uh, shit didn't catch her name. Blonde girl. Made them." He dabbed the towel to the ground while staring up at the four men in a dumbfounded fluster. So relieved that Moshe's alive, but the mystery of his disappearance hung between them, guarded by a friendly face with reindeer antlers. 'Just about.' WTF kind of answer is that?

And Dove! What the fuck? Gone from glaring at him to asking what was wrong, as if nothing happened. Maybe it was all in his head. He could have misinterpreted that look. Completely. Maybe Dove was just trying to hold in a fart when he looked at him like that.

Moshe is alive and Dove isn't mad at him. Everything is fine, even if something about the former is confusing as fuck.

"I'm really sorry about this mess," he muttered to Sawyer with a cringing look. "Had a bit of uh... I was surprised!" He chuckled again, lightheaded. "It was a good surprise, but yeah. I'll clean it up here and it's just scotch," he added sharply, as if daring anyone to get another idea about the spill.

"Anyway, yeah. Thanks for inviting me. First Christmas without the folks, it's kind of, yeah. Helps." His lips twitched in a brief, self conscious smile at the four men hovering over him. He didn't need to bring up that whole 'Mr. Blucher wants me to cane you' thing to Moshe now. The right time and place for that was miles away from this crowded little room of holiday cheer.
Edited by Jhael, Sunday, 29. December 2013, 20:22.
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Dove
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* * * * * *
Springy! Dove bounced at the description, doing little to deny it. Not that he would - 'springy' was acceptable. It spoke of youth and life and energy! He was less sure about the being moulded part, but took it good naturedly.

"All the springy! Springy and flexible." Dove smirked. "In a completely mouldable way, of course." He shot Mr. Sawyer a coy smile. Mr. Sawyer could mould him, oh yes... Time to put a stop to that train of thought right now! Looking away from Sawyer, Dove found his eyes on Jhael again and had been about to ask about the mystery spillage he was so intent on mopping up when the answer was snapped out in a hurry.

"This family rocks." Though he could understand why his new family might feel some pain in the distance from their own, especially at this time of year. Of just those around him - Mr. Sawyer, Jhael and Mushy were all from far away. Mr. Dawid, Dove wasn't so sure about. The weird way he had of saying things had him at a loss for picking out any definite accent since he was too busy translating what was said mentally to take note.

"You guys." Dove began quietly, suddenly touched by the moment. "You're the best family!"

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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Dawid Prazmowski
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* * * *
"We so are", Dawid boldly agreed. There was something manic about the way in which he smiled at Dove. A smile that was quickly extended to his 'fellow ghouls', Jhael, and Moshe. His arms were slung around the two in closest reach as he called out, loudly:

"GROUP HUG!"
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Dove
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* * * * * *
Group hug!

Oh, the most wonderful of ideas! Dove's vision suddenly seemed a bit blurry as he flung himself at the hug-pile, not at all concerned where his crotch ended up in relation to the kneeling Jhael's face.

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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Sawyer
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"Hey, don't worry 'bout the mess none... Ain't my floor anyway, heh heh..."

Church would just have to forgive any damage. After all, a little scotch was no big deal compared to the bloodstains that regularly seemed to end up in this apartment for one severed-hand-related reason or another. Besides, Sawyer had a funny feeling he'd be hearing a lot more general complaints about the night than specific ones, considerin' that the big Brujah was less than a bundle of Christmas joy this evening.

That aside, he gave Jhael a warm half-smile. "I wish I could tell ya it got better, but hell, it's been almost three decades and I still miss my folks. But all this..." Blue eyes crinkled with laugh lines as he grinned, one hand vaguely waving around while the other arm still rested around Moshe's shoulders. "... this makes things better, don't it?"

At that moment, the blond looked so young; it was a rare moment when Sawyer saw Jhael as anything other than cool and collected, but the combination of Moshe and Christmas and all this seemed to be a little too much right now. And then Dove's voice rang out, as chipper as ever.

"This family rocks."

If Sawyer's heart hadn't melted by this point in the night, then it was certainly a puddle now, pooling somewhere around his feet in a sticky mess. They were a family. What the hell. What the glorious, beautiful hell. Gosh, he hadn't had a family in thirty years, and certainly not one that he cared about as much as the weird assemblage of misfits in this room. Maybe that's why he'd gone so stupidly all-out, as some sort of desperate and crazed 'thank you' to a group of people who'd given him so much more than he could ever actually return. He looked at Dove, speechless for a moment and a little slackjawed, but his smile quickly reappeared.

"Yeah," he murmured with a little laugh. "Guess it does, pigeon."

And with that, he joined the chaotic hugpile, wrapping his free arm around Dove warmly.
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