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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: |
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| Once an Anarch...; Open (don't leave me hangin!) | |
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| Topic Started: Wednesday, 8. January 2014, 02:37 (891 Views) | |
| Pierre | Wednesday, 8. January 2014, 02:37 Post #1 |
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The Black Rose
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...between my friends among the Anarchs of Paris, and asking around a bit in London, it was not hard to locate Enfield as the heart of the Anarch movement in London. The Tripper and The Dream both, mentioned prominently. I was not about to subject myself to the baroque garishness of a casino, so the pub was where I found myself. Parking was easy to find. I pulled up in my old MG and sat in the quiet shelter of it for awhile. Looking over the pub and the area around it... Pierre, standing tall broad and lean, was dressed all in black from beret to Dr. Martens. The one splash was a silver rose brooch on his lapel. He breezed into the pub and took a look about. He found an open table and took a chair that let him have his back to a wall. He then set about searching for the pale halo that would indicate a fellow kindred. He only had one name to work with from his contacts. Nora. Just, Nora. But unless he was led horribly astray, he expected that he would bump into one of the Anarch movement here eventually. He ordered up a lager for appearances, and chatted up his server looking for some information. The server either knew better then to share, or was blissfully unaware. Pierre guessed the former. But perhaps the fact he was asking might get word to someone. In the meantime, he relaxed and waited. |
| The world ended the day disco died... | |
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| Tzippy | Thursday, 9. January 2014, 07:00 Post #2 |
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Ancilla
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In the furthest corner from the door, a dark, wiry man was sprawled across one chair, his booted feet propped in the other, books spread out across the small table he had taken as his own. Scratching his scruffy beard and evidently lost in thought, he jotted down notes with a gloved left hand, the right occupied with the necklace pendant hanging from his neck. The bronze charm a hand with an eye embedded in the palm. Occasionally, he would curse with a thick, harshly lyrical accent, fussing with the collar of the rust brown sweater he wore. Or thread fingers through his black curls, causing them to stand on end. At one point, he rose to pace briefly before settling back down. Each little ritual seeming enough to settle him before continuing his work a while longer. He didn't seem to be paying much attention to newcomers, glancing only briefly to Pierre. Spring green shot through with pale gold flickered lazily around him with swirling edges, the colors leeched away by the haze of a Kindred. Edited by Tzippy, Thursday, 9. January 2014, 07:02.
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| Pierre | Friday, 10. January 2014, 01:32 Post #3 |
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The Black Rose
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Pierre waited for a while. Watching the room, and the other man. Since no other kindred were noticed he stood up and made his way over to the man in the corner, carrying his untouched lager. Once close to the table, the Black Rose spoke to him in a heavy French accent. "Monsieur" he said "pardon me, but I came here looking for some of my people. I think you might be one, perhaps? Can I join you for a short time?" His crow eyes look over all the books with an appreciation visible on his lined face. Wondering at the titles and what he might be in study of. |
| The world ended the day disco died... | |
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| Tzippy | Friday, 10. January 2014, 07:03 Post #4 |
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Ancilla
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The smaller man's head turned sharply to regard the stranger intently, brow furrowed. "Dark silver shards. Could be worse." A shoulder was shrugged as the wiry man pushed stacks of books aside, many of their titles in neither English nor French, a few in German, but most in a non-Roman alphabet. What titles Pierre could decipher concerned symbolism and methods of reading omens from around the world, a few textbooks concerning the mythologies of various ancient Middle Eastern cultures. Once the books were reorganized to the other Kindred's liking, he glanced back again to Pierre, pale eyes avoiding looking at the Frenchman directly, it could be noticed. "You can sit. Not the best company. But you can. As for yours and my people?... Jewish? A wiry smile quirked his lips. |
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| Pierre | Saturday, 11. January 2014, 00:53 Post #5 |
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The Black Rose
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Pierre had a seat. He lifted his cheeks into a smile, squishing his eyes and deepening the lines around them. "No, not Jewish." He leaned back in his chair. "I was speaking more... politically. Do you happen to know a woman named Nora she is another one of our people that I am looking for." "But I have been remiss, Monsieur. My name is Pierre." ...I had no way of knowing if I had found one of the Anarchs of London at the time. The halo around my fellow kindred, and his initial words spoke of a childe of Malkav. A clan I always had both trouble with and admiration for. What artist could not have some admiration for the state of madness, after all? Starting off with the name of the Baron might have been a miscalculation, but I felt oddly impatient at the time. I did not want to become a fixture in London without making contact with my fellows in the Anarch movement. It seemed to me, at the time, that making contact as soon as possible was in order... |
| The world ended the day disco died... | |
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| Tzippy | Saturday, 11. January 2014, 05:07 Post #6 |
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Ancilla
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Moshe nodded in response to the introduction, his English carefully emphasized and formal though there was still a wry undertone, "Well, you did not look African so I thought I would just ask. As for politics, I tend to drift along the left wing." Pale eyes took on a teasing glint. "But Nora? I do know her, yes. But I have not seen her lately. She was around here often enough when I did see her though. And her boyfriend, I have seen recently. Why do you wish to see them?" After his last encounter with certain Anarchs, Moshe was inclined to be cautious. "Moshe, by the way. My name, I mean." |
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| Pierre | Sunday, 12. January 2014, 06:58 Post #7 |
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The Black Rose
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"Thank you, Moshe" Pierre said. He rested one arm on the table and leaned in, so he could talk more comfortably in a quiet tone. "I carry a message for her, or for her representative, from Paris. We have... mutual friends." The Frenchman maintained a relax manner. His business did not seem urgent, if such could be read from his demeanor. Pierre asked calmly "Could you tell me, who this boyfriend is? Where I might find Nora, or one of her people?" |
| The world ended the day disco died... | |
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| Tzippy | Sunday, 12. January 2014, 23:11 Post #8 |
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Ancilla
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"The Irish Lion. You will know him when you see and hear him, trust me. He and she are close, last I witnessed, so he would possibly be willing to pass your message on. But do not trust just anyone, yes? Not that you should trust just anyone ever, of course. They hang around this place most often that I have seen though. I could perhaps ask my sire. He has an unnerving habit of finding people." The Malkavian flashed another wan grin, resting an elbow on the table, chin resting on hand as he regarded Pierre then. Studying the older man intently for a moment before speaking bluntly. "So, are you here to stay or just to deliver this message? Because I will tell you this, I would haul ass if you had the chance. London has not been the most... stable city lately." Edited by Tzippy, Sunday, 12. January 2014, 23:12.
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| Vanth | Sunday, 12. January 2014, 23:35 Post #9 |
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Neonate
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"Stability is overrated." The sneering voice belonged to a freakishly tall, skinny man who had stolen the face Jean-Luc Bilodeau. He was seated the next table over, both of his long legs on a second chair that had been aligned with his own, for his convenience. He didn't seem like he was well-to-do, wearing a ratty black coat and some old jeans. Though it was not that cold, he'd pulled a hoodie over his face, thus obscuring most of his hair. Oddly enough, Pierre couldn't tell whether the young man had been there all along or if he had just arrived. He was just... suddenly... there. "I bet the city would be 'stable' if it was ruled by The Man and his vicious kleptocracy, or alternatively, if all of it was controlled by some weird-ass Taliban-like death cult. Would you want that, kid?" He spoke to Moshe with a certain familiarity as he continued his rant, gesturing around the pub: "A tightly packed mound of dirt is stable. The bottles of beer along the wall here, being neatly lined up and set down on a bolted shelf, are stable. Fuck stable." |
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| Tzippy | Monday, 13. January 2014, 00:18 Post #10 |
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"Be careful of that edge. You might cut yourself on it," Moshe returned mildly as he glanced towards the newcomer, "Destabilization only benefits those who either have enough power already to protect themselves or those who have nothing left to lose. It is the tool of those who have their own designs and ambitions. Would be tyrants, sociopaths, and naive children who think disorganized chaos will make a better world." Moshe waved a hand dismissively, "Rebels without a clue, manipulated by the powerful and ambitious, unable to see that not everyone shares their lofty ideals for the rose colored glasses. The desperate populace, uncertain and frightened, turning to the first thing that looks to have a chance of bringing back order. Because they will be the ones to face the backlash, dragged into a conflict they had no interest or stake in. And they will not be the only ones. Persecuted minorities, either suffering due to mindless fear or scapegoated, they will also endure the consequences." The Israeli snorted, "And, perhaps, I might know a bit better about this, seeing as I am from a region of the world repeatedly decimated by colonialism and destabilization. Which allowed elements like petty dictators and fundamentalists to gain control, puppeteered by outsiders who stood to gain most of all." A bland look was leveled at the lanky man, Moshe's lips twitching even with the challenging words. "Chaos has its uses. But I do not trust those that take it as a philosophy." Edited by Tzippy, Monday, 13. January 2014, 00:18.
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| Vanth | Monday, 13. January 2014, 00:37 Post #11 |
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"You implying you don't trust your baby-daddy, kid?' 'Jean-Luc' lifted his eyebrows, but didn't really feel at all threatened or offended by the remark. Instead, he conceded the point that Straw Vanth had apparently argued for: "Chaos is a tactic, not a philosophy. Power and wealth suck in more of it, like it's gravity. If you let things run their course and try your damned best while playing by their rules, you get fucked in the arse. You get turned into a fuckin' slave. Sometimes you gotta throw over the table and punch that cheating motherfucker in the face, instead of playing a losing hand cuz it's 'the rules'." He glanced over to the man with the beret, his eyes prying as he asked: "What do you think, mate?" Edited by Vanth, Monday, 13. January 2014, 00:41.
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| Pierre | Monday, 13. January 2014, 21:52 Post #12 |
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The Black Rose
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Pierre had a slight smile on his crow-like face. His blood responded to the political debate. To the Toreador beatnik, such was art. And like any art, there were those that drew with crayons, and those who were masters. To his ear, each of the men spoke eloquently, and Moshe especially spoke with passion. Pierre was only more confident he had found himself in Anarch territory. He was listening comfortably to the exchange when the newcomer pulled him into it. First things first. "My name is Peirre, Monsieur. Pleasure to meet you." Then the Frenchman took some time to consider his response. This was his bailiwick, but tonight he desired only a conversation, not a spirited debate. He had another purpose here for the moment. Proper debates took time should the art be respected. Pierre replied "I think that a status-quo is never desirable. Living things must grow, or they rot. Change is inevitable, and needed. Chaos is an important element of change. However, there is the chaos from a thunderstorm, and there is the chaos of a hurricane. The rain brings what is needed for growth (which is change) but one is far more destructive then the other. Knowing how to balance how much force is needed for change, without bringing needless destruction or bloodshed, is where leadership finds its greatest expression." |
| The world ended the day disco died... | |
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| Tzippy | Tuesday, 14. January 2014, 00:41 Post #13 |
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The Israeli nodded to Pierre, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Ah, but this is the problem, is it not? Most people who would use chaos either have no idea what the fuck they are doing or are using it for all the wrong reasons. I am not saying to play by the rules, but there are some basic codes you should stick to, and even those that claim chaos do not do so totally. It is about being realistic. About walking lines and deciding what is worth the risk and what is not. Analyzing to see what is in it for those calling the rallying cry." Moshe glanced between the two, "And this is the problem with a lot of anti-establishment movements. Not enough people thinking or underestimating just how far the powers that be will sink to in keeping their power, just how easily public opinion can be turned against them. In their wish to be heroes, to be the brave rebels, they become martyrs at best. Often, they are just cautionary tales." |
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| Vanth | Tuesday, 14. January 2014, 01:01 Post #14 |
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"Meh. I am no hero, and you aint gonna be one either if you got any sense, kid", 'Jean-Luc' replied. The conversation was getting too abstract for him. Not that he minded abstract, but he'd wasted too much time arguing with Internet Libertarians on various forums to think that political debate was a very productive venture. His attention thus turned to 'Pierre', the newbie: "So what brings you to this side of town? You got a mime act you wanna put up...?" He did look ever-so-stereotypically French, after all. A bit of white paint on the man's face and he'd be the perfect mime. "... or are you just a messenger boy for someone? If you wanna talk to Nora and Sully, you might wanna sit your ass down here and wait until ya take root. Both of em have been thin on the ground since the quote-unquote 'earthquake'. Respond to e-mail, but not around for much else. Fuck knows what their problem is, but you know, whatever." |
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| Pierre | Tuesday, 14. January 2014, 02:12 Post #15 |
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The Black Rose
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Pierre closely listened to the continuing discussion, then merely stroked his thin beard as the man who did not introduce himself through out barbs that failed to find a mark. The Rose replied to him "I have no talent in mime, I do bear a message, from Paris, for my Anarch brethren." Pierre turned his crow-like face directly at the unnamed man. "The caution of... Nora, is understandable, especially considering the current state of this domain. In that, we also share common purpose. If you would be willing to share the electronic mail information for the Baron, I can contact her in that way." The Frenchman showed a thin smile below his nose. He said "In any case, I will certainly sit my ass down here, as you say, for I typically enjoy the sort of company I find in places like this." "Now, Monsieur, what shall I call you?" |
| The world ended the day disco died... | |
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| Pierre | Thursday, 16. January 2014, 23:37 Post #16 |
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The Black Rose
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The Frenchman leaned in slightly "Monsieur?" He glanced from Moshe and back to the newcomer. The situation was starting to feel strange. |
| The world ended the day disco died... | |
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| Vanth | Friday, 17. January 2014, 14:42 Post #17 |
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OOC "Call me Jean-Luc", the man volunteered. It was the name of the B-actor whose face he'd stolen, and he said the name without the faintest hint of a Gallic accent. "Not a Frenchy", he added as an entirely unnecessary clarification. The tall man rummaged around in the pockets of his pants, eventually parting one bit of yellow note-paper from the other three, and then writing down Nora's e-mailadres with a pencil that looked like it had been chewed on, or used as a fang sharpener. "Here ya go", he said, handing the paper over with a bit of a lecherous grin. He then sat back, hands over his stomach as he looked at Pierre. "So. I gave you some useful info. Now you give me some. What's the latest?" |
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| Pierre | Saturday, 18. January 2014, 21:30 Post #18 |
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The Black Rose
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The Frenchman gratefully accepted the paper. "Merci" he said. Pierre smiled around his nose when Jean-Luc asked about info. "I might have to owe you, Monsieur. I have only just arrived in town. I can confirm that which you already may have guessed, that the Parisian Anarch's would like to make contact with their London brothers." He sat back and stroked his beard. He spoke quietly, mindful of mortal ears "I will also say this. There is an active investigation into the recent terrorist attacks. Were you aware that there seems to be a Kindred behind them, a M.B. He seems to be targeting the Camarilla in particular." |
| The world ended the day disco died... | |
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| Tzippy | Monday, 20. January 2014, 21:24 Post #19 |
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Ancilla
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Moshe had seemed content to settle down and look back over his notes as the other two talked. Fingers skimming over writings and symbols that were definitely not of the Roman alphabet, scrawled across the pages of a spiral notebook. He seemed to be reading backwards to, starting from the end of the notebook and towards the beginning. Fussing and fidgeting and humming to himself. At mention of the terrorist attacks though, Moshe had gone very still, brow furrowing and listening intently. The pen clutched loosely between callused fingers. "Sensitive information to spread around, I think," he finally responded blandly. |
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| Pierre | Tuesday, 21. January 2014, 05:04 Post #20 |
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The Black Rose
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Pierre turned his crow-gaze over towards Moshe, he shook his head mildly in disagreement. He said "Secrecy, in this case, does not advantage us, Monsieur. This Blackwell is a threat to all of us. And should I draw attention to myself here, perhaps it will shake out a lead. If anything, in this matter, the Anarch community and the Camarilla have common cause. Such chaos can truly only help our mutual enemy." The Frenchman felt no need to elucidate that he was referring to the Sabbat. To him, it was obvious. The Black Rose leaned in slightly "Have you, or your friends learned anything about this man? He claims to speak for some Anarchs, so it would seem. But I find that very hard to believe." |
| The world ended the day disco died... | |
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3:53 PM Jul 11