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

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

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


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



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



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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.

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Ghosts of New York; Attn: Ares
Topic Started: Sunday, 22. December 2013, 19:09 (1,106 Views)
Margo Moreau
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Rebel Toreador
* * * * * *
Kingston upon Thames is close to what was soon to be Margo's former haven. Tomorrow she would be moving into her new Suite at the Clermont Club, thanks to the kind attentions of a certain Ventrue Primogen. There were a few strip clubs and pubs along this stretch of road. Margo found easy hunting here among the horny and buzzed young men. There was always a few palatable young men that were going home alone. So they thought.

the road was near Grove Ward, aka Brujah central. A bit of a rough area that Margo just skirted the edge of.

Margo had just finished her second small meal. A fresh-faced boy, no older then 19, who had what he thought was some excellent make out fun. Margo had a little smile on her face. The boy had taken some XTC and she was enjoying the secondary buzz she got from his young blood. She had a little bounce in her step as she swayed along.

Little did she know what was lurking around the corner.
Edited by Margo Moreau, Sunday, 22. December 2013, 20:11.
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English French Theme Songs: New Rose by The Damned, Mommy's Little Monster by Social Distortion
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Ares
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The Soldier
* * *
Puffing his cigar and moving with a purpose came the Freight Train around the corner. Ares had just gotten some shitty news from an old friend back home...and there wasn't shit he could do about it from here. If his face was usually void of emotions, it was filled with one tonight, one that screamed "Get the F- Out of My Way"

it was at that point, coming around the corner that it hit him...literally...Déjà Vu all over again.

if the person bumping into him had been bigger, they would have gotten a mouthful of words that would make a sailor blush...but instead, Ares eyes narrowed...like something behind his predatory gaze was searching for something deep inside of his psyche...something lost long ago..."could this possibly be?"
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Theme Songs: Your Going Down - Sick Puppies and Night Train - Guns n' Roses
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Margo Moreau
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Rebel Toreador
* * * * * *
Margo let out a shriek and fell back onto her ass, looking up at Ares in absolute terror. She kept crawling away from Ares until her back hit a lamppost. Suddenly she was 17 again. The small prick of memory stirred by seeing Ares opened up a crack in a damn constructed 13 years ago. Memories of that fateful night in 1999 flooded into her mind. The Toreador grabbed onto the post for dear life.

She remembered. Everything.

The street had a few people walking back and forth who witnessed what was occurring, many looked at Ares with emotions ranging from anger to fear. Most told him to "Hey, Leave her alone man!" or "What the fuck, dude?!" a few braver people came directly to Margo's side to see after her.

To Ares, he saw a much different Margo. She looked only about 5 or 6 years older, and it had been 13 years since he had seen her. That, and he recognized how Margo was struggling to keep her beast in check as she was in the throws of the panic attack. She was doing a good enough job for now, to not cause a breach, but Ares could see that she was riding the edge of frenzy.

Little Margo, the girl that he and his friends saved in NYC. Ended up dead anyway.
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Ares
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The Soldier
* * *
Suddenly, his bad news meant nothing. It was all the sudden eclipsed by something much darker and much sadder. "Who? How? Those bastards!!! If the Sabbat had really done this, taken everything from me and now the innocence of this little girl..but wait...She's not so little anymore...sort of.
Come on ... Think Ares Think!


Ares walked up and as much as he hated to do it, he again had to stop a breech he would be causing with this girl...now a woman...and now one of the monsters he tried to keep her from becoming.

((Presence))I'm terribly sorry miss...can I buy you a cup of coffee to make it up to you? He hoped she would catch on its just to calm her down and get her out of the situation before anyone caught sight of those fangs. He hoped the crowds would be cool with his good willed guesture, despite him having the kind of face strangers in a dark alley try to stay away from. And he hoped she wouldn't say she doesn't drink coffee, but it was the first human like thing he could think of. A world of change had ripped through his life since she last saw his face...he could smile and feel empathy back in those days. Seeing her unlocked some of that back up. God help him though if she was Sabbat...God help them both.
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Theme Songs: Your Going Down - Sick Puppies and Night Train - Guns n' Roses
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Margo Moreau
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Rebel Toreador
* * * * * *
That did help Margo calm down. She started to shoo people away from her as her mind began to more rationally put together what was happening. The memories were still flooding in, and she winced or jolted as they hit home. But she was used to flashbacks. These just seemed to come out of nowhere, they tore themselves out of some hidden part of her brain. She got to her feet, still holding onto the lamppost. The satchel that Margo was wearing over her shoulder was the same leather one she had that night, just a bit more broken in.

In her haze she looked over at the big man, recognition coming slowly. "Ares" she whispered. She lowered her head and grabbed onto her forehead, as if to hold in her shredding mind; wincing at the effort.
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Ares
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The Soldier
* * *
There was nothing he could do other than what he was doing. He braced her incase her legs went out, he offered her a painful looking smile in hopes that it will somehow ease her pain.

It's me hun...you want to go somewhere and talk?
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Margo Moreau
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Rebel Toreador
* * * * * *
Margo looked around, still to many people, to much attention. Her head was spinning, she needed to get away from the crowd. She reached out to the big man's arm and found a brave smile "Its okay, he just had some bad breath!" she said hoping levity would distract. Margo looked up at him with stormy eyes and whispered "Not here, I'm losing it. Walk us out of here, please"
Edited by Margo Moreau, Monday, 23. December 2013, 04:37.
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Ares
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The Soldier
* * *
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Ares walks Margo into an old building, once used as an old hall, probably as a local playhouse or theater judging by the seats and old old old bollywood posters...it looks decades old. Ares sits you down and turns off Presence

You ok kiddo? he asks. His face void of emotion, but behind those cold eyes, you can see him searching for some old spark of his old humanity.
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Margo Moreau
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Rebel Toreador
* * * * * *
Margo collapsed into a seat and cradled her head as she rocked back and forth. The terrible images from years ago finally being released from behind the veil of dominate. Something deep inside that Margo had always dreaded was finally known.

Finally she processed enough to find her feet. She took a long look at Ares, with her eyes and with her [Aura Sight]

She said "You look the same as I remember... but you have changed, a lot. I can see it in your eyes."

"I always felt like something terrible had happened that night, but I, and my friends chalked it up to a nasty blackout." The little Toreador shook at the memory.

Margo said "Now, I finally am remembering the truth. I remember how you, and your friends saved me, and mine."

Margo had to wince at the irony "Without you, I would not be the vampire I am today." She still looked grateful at the big man. "Thank you."
Edited by Margo Moreau, Monday, 23. December 2013, 23:13.
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Ares
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The Soldier
* * *
His Aura would suggest that he is quite sad and very concerned, deeeeeeeep down under years of heartache. Hints of anger burn into something larger boiling below the surface...a rage and a hatred stirring up as he asks you Awe hun...how did this happen to you?

His mind spins and he thinks"If it was the Sabbat that took her young life, I will hunt them down and kill every last one of them if it takes me doing it from the other side."
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Margo Moreau
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Rebel Toreador
* * * * * *
Margo was still processing her thoughts of that night... those days, 13 years ago. She took off her hat and scratched her head. She said "Well, the short answer to that is... I was groomed for the embrace by a Toreador here in London. However, the plan got interrupted when I got in the way of some bullets that were intended for my sire. She pissed off some Parisian Anarchs. Anyway, the bullets killed me. My sire decided to bring me back with the embrace, so to speak. That was seven years ago."

"What a seven years it has been to. About as much fun as a sledgehammer to the teeth."
Margo smirked, it hadn't been quite that bad, but who could blame the Toreador for a touch of hyperbole?

Margo took a long look at Ares with her soft big browns. "I am still putting together everything that happened that night. I remember your face pretty well now... you seem different somehow. More grumpy." She found a brave smile.
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Ares
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The Soldier
* * *
"Grumpy. . .first time anyone had the stones to tell him that since Bishop...Gosh I missed the old doc."

The line about him looking grumpy actually made him smile. It had been a long time for them both...For Ares, it had been years of being in death's shadow...either as the grim reaper or as the witness...he watched many die at his hands, and lost most of the kindred he has ever known...lost his entire mortal family, and his sire...for Ares, it had been a world of darkness. But he sighed as he found out she wasn't a victim of some shovel party back home, letting the tension drop as he lets his massive shoulders roll forward.

Yea...it's been some long, hard years for the both of us. But look at you...all grown up, and a Toreador. Look at you. Gabby and Mindy would have been real proud to see you with that rosey blood runnin' through your vains....you remember the Countessa and Mistrees Leticia?

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Margo Moreau
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Rebel Toreador
* * * * * *
Margo's eyes show a flash of pain as Ares talks of hard years. They certainly had been. So far as she knew, most of the people she loved were still alive and well. But she had lost them just the same. Then the endless nights of waking in a broken body. Reliving the moment of her death like an endless nightmare, waking from one only to find herself in another.

Margo scratched at her temple as Ares speaks of the two Toreador from that night in 1999. She replied "I remember their faces, though the names... they are still lost." Margo's face showed a sad smile as she remembered the way they finished each others sentences. They were two crazy ladies.

Margo went on "The two I remember best are you, and Bishop. Knowing the world as I do now, I am surprised how kind you all were to me. It is something I have rarely known these nights. Yet you saved me, a young kine girl and her two friends." Margo raised her shoulders towards her neck as she spoke. "I suppose it served the purpose of leading you to the Sabbat, if I am putting all this together right, but still..." Margo was at a loss for words after that. She was grateful, and touched. It reflected in her soft eyes. She reached out to embrace Ares. If he allowed the contact her arms would only reach about halfway around the huge man, but she would do her best and hold herself to him for a long few moments.

She would then lean back. Her eyes would show a line of red along the lid, though she would reclaim the vitae for her body before it fell like a red pearl down her fair skin. She managed to say "thank you" through a throat was thick with the emotion of the moment. "Thank you."
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Ares
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The Soldier
* * *
Ares life had proven bitter indeed as he looked back on it...Faust and Calebros were all that remained of the crew he knew in New York. The twins had long since been murdured as well as Bishop. A product of this unending war between sects. A war Ares was happy Margo was spared from...for a little while anyways.

Ares felt her arms around him and it burned like fire. It reminded him of what it felt like to be human again, even if it was only for a second. Her eyes were upon him, and as he looked up and saw the crimson stains in her eyes he felt choked up. So much darkness in his life and here was this little ray of sunshine. This little girl, all grown up, and despite her death, her mortal death, she once again gave him some life back. He looks at her for a moment, then clears his throat as his heart was stuck in it. Hey, I don't know if you know it, but I kept one of your drawings...I'd like to show you some night. I keep it with me for nostalgia's sake.
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Margo Moreau
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Rebel Toreador
* * * * * *
Margo smiled at that "Sure." She tilted her head as they talked "You know, I could do a nice painting for you if you have a wall to hang it on."

After that, Margo didn't have much to say. Her brain felt like a barbed wire net had been dragged through it. Old horrors continued to ooze out from the place where they had been locked away.

If allowed, she leaned against Ares and let the memories come. Marveling at the strange circumstances that had occurred to bring Ares and her back into each others lives. The odds of such happening seemed miniscule. Yet, here he was, a continent away from where they first met. It almost made the skeptical Margo believe in fate, almost.

Margo would hold onto his arm and rest her head on his shoulder, as if he were her very big brother. It was comforting.
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Ares
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The Soldier
* * *
Ares at first was very tense, touch, for him, was such a foreign thing unless it was to cause pain...but this...after the initial stiffening of the muscles, he rested a moment with her on his shoulder. . .for thefirst time in forever, he had a moment that felt familial. Since getting embraced, he lost his family to time or the Sabbat, Margo wasn't family, but in this moment, she was.

He sat there with her in the comfortable silence for a moment. Seemed Bishop was right...again. I don't always have to fix everything, sometimes silence is the best thing to say.

He sat with her and wondered about her art, her sire, her coming here of all places, how her friends were doing. . .all thhings he could ask her when the need for him to shut up and be hugged was over. And with that, he let the muscles in his face pull his mouth into a smile, one not like he usually forced, this one was natural, and hopefully not so scary. Most assumed that when he was smiling, it was because he was getting ready to eat them like the big bad wolf.
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Margo Moreau
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Rebel Toreador
* * * * * *
Margo was still leaning against his shoulder when she asked "How did you find yourself in London from New York? I mean if you want to talk about it. You're about the last person I expected to ever see again."

She looked up towards his face, as best as she could see it past his beefy shoulder. "Have you been here long? I haven't seen... you." Suddenly it hit Margo, Ares might be an Anarch. Though, after thinking about it a few moments, she didn't really care.
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Ares
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The Soldier
* * *
I have only been here for a week or so. Not long at all.

I was actually resting on a beach in Thailand a few months back, another Nightwatch contract, when I got news ftom an old friend of mine in New York. My sire was murdered...it was a Sabbat Raid on her haven in the Bronx...there wasn't anything I could have done after the fact, and from the othe side of the world. I cleared it with the boss, Foust, and took a hiatus from contract work...went to try and find that peace Bishop was always talking about...to little too late though. I never found it. I have done to much, seen to much...killing has become a part of who I am now. I found myself in Jamaica, talking to my old friend and his sire...an old Brujah Pirate from back in the day. He is "affiliated" with Nightwatch. He was the one who suggested I check out London. So here I am.

Since arriving, I have not been able to adjust to well. I half think Eddie sent me here to London with the intent of getting be to hate civilian life again. The nice part about being on the teams was not being part of the sects. I had forgotten how the Camarilla was...full of shit...not as a whole, but at least a whole lot of them. I am to independent for the Cam here, but I don't think I have it in me yet to join the Anarchs...I just came from meeting a few the other night and I wasn't left with the greatest feeling. I actually think I pissed them off...which is to bad, I kinda admired a few of them.

But what about you? How did you get here? I mean, what's your story, I'd love to hear it if you feel like telling the tail?


Ares seemed a bit cold at first as he talked about his sire and about some of the stuff he'd been through. He seemed to be disconnected to it all, kind of dead inside as he spoke, but perked up as he stopped staring at the cracks in the ceiling to look at you to ask about your life...or rather, your unlife.
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Margo Moreau
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Rebel Toreador
* * * * * *
"Not much to tell really, I came to London to study for my DFA at Camberwell. My art career was starting to take off, with a little help from my soon-to-be sire. I was about two years into the program when I got between my sire and some Parisian Anarchs that were gunning for her. I got shot up pretty bad and died on the spot. Esme, my sire, brought me back with the embrace." Margo shrugged, her description of these events were very matter-of-fact. "Two shots went through my brain, had amnesia ever since. Since I was in such a mess at the embrace... well the wounds come back. I have to heal them every night. It sucks."

Margo was still leaning against the big mans arm.

"By the way, I have no idea what Nightwatch is, a lot of the stuff you were just talking about went over my head actually. Trying to find some peace though? I can relate to that. I don't think it is ever to late, like you said. You helped me once, perhaps I can return the favor."

She poked her head around him so she could look up at his face. "Perhaps a way to find some peace is to connect with someone. From what I hear you saying, your alone. I know how that feels. The more alone I got, the more I felt myself slipping away, like the beast feeds on it. I try to connect just to hold on to myself. Its not easy, because I don't trust anyone, but I have to try. I don't want to be a monster, and from what I hear you saying, you don't want to be one either."
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Ares
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The Soldier
* * *
He sits there for a few seconds in quiet contemplation of what she says...her words hit him like a ton of bricks. the DFA part was not a set of initials he was familiar with, but then again, half the stuff he says doesn't relate to civilians.

I...I...do't even know how to anymore.
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