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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Fucking Santa Claus (ENDED)
Topic Started: Sunday, 12. January 2014, 18:51 (928 Views)
Toran
Member Avatar
The Formerly Hated
* * * * * *
"Your brain is a strange and magical place, you know that right?"

He chuckled, a deep rumbling laugh. Shaking his head and grinning.

"I don't mind the horny as fuck since she's willing to ease any itch she puts into me... and well, sometimes it gets rough enough for that fight urge to go to the back burner, and that works for me. At least for now."

He raised his eyebrow slightly and shook his head, closing his frost-blue eyes.

"Mac. I'm not a noble man. If I thought I'd have to kill you I'd do so from as far a way as possible with as large an explosive as I can manage. You're too fucking dangerous to dick around with in my house. Especially too dangerous to do it in person even if I wanted to kill you in my house to make clean up easier. So if you had to know, I had two thoughts running through this neanderthal brain of mine."

He paused and put his hand to his face, taking and deep breath and grunting in annoyance at her paranoid brain.

"One, I was thinking that you'd look great tied down, with your wrists pinned down with spikes through your forearms getting fucked hard enough enough to tear your cunt because your tits ARE magnificent and would look great bouncing about with blood trickling over them. Especially if your legs were snapped in a few places and held open by chains so every fucking thrust jerked your broken bones about. But THAT train of thought was put there by your lil comment about us hooking up and I'm TRYING to let it creep back out of my head so as not to fuck with anything."

He shrugged and held out his arms, like "What can you do, you know?" and returned the regarding her with his frost-blue eyes.

"The OTHER thing running through my head... is that you're changing a bit. From who you were when we met. But that I wasn't going to bring up because you hate getting all emotional and shit and I didn't want to make you uncomfortable by trying to go all soft and emo on you or some shit."

The muscular ghoul chuckled helplessly. Sometimes it didn't really pay to ask a ghoul what was going on inside his head. But Mac was both relentlessly paranoid AND relatively good at figuring out when HIS dumbass was lying. Since he wasn't very good at it to start with. So fuck it if he was going to bother to lie. If she really wanted to know what was going on, he might as well tell her.
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Toran's Voice

Can't leave... can't leave... can't leave the girls will eat me....
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Mac
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Goddess of Fuck and War
* * * * *
She could open up and pour out her heart about Brujah being ten shades of bad, and not needing her libido any more over worked than it already was... but she wasn't particularily a sharer. She was already sharing a hell of a lot more than she was used to, and it left her on an uncomfortable sort of footing, despite being sat upon that damn fine ass at the moment.

His description of how he would attempt to kill her made her grin, face lighting up slowly with a sort of general applause leaping out from behind those brown eyes. Yeah, that would probably be a smart way to do it. Far away, because up close even her big boy here probably didn't stand a chance, not if she actually -wanted- to kill him. She didn't need to make death pretty, she just made it efficient. Gun shot to the head, like when his brain was all fucked up on tumors? Yeah, fast and efficient. Not clean, not pretty... It would have been a shame too, to remove such a pretty face she enjoyed so much from this world. She was such a sucker for pretty faces, something about them. Certain kinds more than others.

For one, I'm Ventrue bitch... My cunt don't 'tear', it's made of fucking admantium. Two, I'm top. I can top from the bottom, but I'm still top. It's about me, and always will be... and three, that sounds like a Wednesday night with Church, except... As I said, I'm top bitch. Don't you ever think otherwise. If my Brujah can't top me, you ain't ever going to. Four, Not so into shit going through the body. I'm a broken bones and deep pressure kind of girl, body has to hold -together- for the deep pressure to have the same effect, like you're so beaten and swollen and bruised that you want to escape from your skin but you can't, you're trapped. Opening it up and stabbing shit through it? Not so sexy... Been tortured that way to many times boy, way to many memories tied to shit I don't want to remember, but if you want me to put spikes through you? Well, I can that for you baby cakes.

Her tongue slid along her inner lower lip, before the teeth caught the small and ever torn and ripped up skin there and pinched lightly as she looked at him. He thought she was different? Look in a fucking mirror, the last time she saw him he was still blushing at the topic of sex. Now he was talking about sex and dirty old torture like it was childs play, and truth be told... she didn't like it.

Yeah, I'm different. I was drunk on freedom when we met. Two years out from my break from Marco, thinking I was sum badass bitch that could maim and pillage and burn down packs for the thrill and fun. Then it started biting me in the ass more and more, I got caught a few times... Almost died more than I can count... and life, it got fucking montonous. Tedious. Didn't have much to live for...So why bother?

Her hands slid out from under the rips in her jeans, one holding a lighter as she flicker it open and closed as she held it atop her knee, still criss crossed on the table. Her eyes went down to it a moment, a soft smile taking her features somewhere vastly different than Toran usually saw.

Came to London to die Toran. Took a job here that would get me killed. When I got here? Some other fucker had already done it... Drank myself into oblivion for a while in Camden, as I tend to do when I get bored. Just waiting for the right way to die, cuz I wanted to go out with a Bang, of course. Have folk remember me, having stupid assholes in a bar drink to something awesome I did.

She lifted her lighter, gave it a little wave up in the air as if she was toasting the memory of her fantasy.

Then I managed to get killed by the Baron, or nearly. It was a fucking epic show man, I used one vampire like a baseball bat to beat down two others. On my way out, laughing my face off? Baron takes me down from behind, and that bitch has some sort of venom in her fangs that fucked me right up. There I was, all ready to die again, and my lame ass gets saved. Now, I'm fucked. Cuz I got fuckers like you, Aguirre and Sawyer to worry about.”
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"You are so fucking Camarilla. All hope and optimism. Maybe we can mount a rescue mission, and everyone can have a cupcake party, and fly around on Pegasus unicorns pooping rainbows."
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Toran
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The Formerly Hated
* * * * * *
He grinned slightly and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against the counter and nodding his head. Good to know. He filed away the information for future consideration. Broken bones and deep pressure, hard impact bruising. Good to know. He reached up and scratched his black beards, his frost-blue eyes half closed as he thought it over.

"Well. Good to know. If I ever get so drunk and terrified that I need someone to pound the crap out of me in total break shit sort of way fuck, I'm remember where the adamant cunt is. As for the other stuff, shit changes. Folk just can't seem to let you die. Well, that's how it goes."

He paused, regarding her for a moment.

"So does this mean you DO or DON'T want one of those violet wands juiced up enough to char regular skin if used wrong?"

He raised a black eyebrow, his deep voice rumbling and a sarcastic lilt to his voice. She'd shared, now that could walk away from it. If he pushed she'd just go spastic. Didn't really feel like having her flipping out and getting his shot on fire. Then again, she DID seem to actually have a bit more self-control than she used too.

"Note, I said regular skin. I'm sure if I get the glass blown in a dildo shape your adamant cunt could handle a bit of charge. So, got a cock size you prefer to have your lady-bits electrocuted by? Don't want to disappoint and hear it's too small."
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Toran's Voice

Can't leave... can't leave... can't leave the girls will eat me....
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Mac
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Goddess of Fuck and War
* * * * *
She narrowed her eyes at him talking about glass dildo's, then rolled them altogether. She shooked her head, lips pressing out into a smushed expression of amused non amusement.

"I'll take one, but no dick neccessary."

She sighed a little, her face relaxing as her hands slipped over her knee's and settle to hold on lightly. She was looking at him intensely, brown eyes burrowing and weighing each inch of his body. The corners of his mouth, eyes, the lines that marked him and the way he lived his life. He had laugh lines when they met, but the laugh lines... they were gone, they were replaced by creases, sad and fearful ones.

"What the fuck happened to the boy I saved? You... You ain't him. I mean, you look like him... but, you don't talk or act like him... He was so much better than me Toran. Now when I look at you, I'm starting to see me."

He'd said something she didn't want to acknowledge before, about his time in Prison... something she wanted to pretend so bad he'd never said, but she really couldn't ignore it if she wanted to understand why she felt so different now.
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"You are so fucking Camarilla. All hope and optimism. Maybe we can mount a rescue mission, and everyone can have a cupcake party, and fly around on Pegasus unicorns pooping rainbows."
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Toran
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The Formerly Hated
* * * * * *
"You really wanna know? Took me a while to piece it together. Fragmented, broken memories, half erased, partially blurred. It ain't pleasant, and I'm getting over it slowly. Burned a bit out of me. Made it harder for me to just keep going happy-go-lucky around the bend. That shit started fading out when I learned vampires were real. Prison pretty much cost me the last of it. Lucy's helping me get it back. Helping me remember the fun things in life a bit."

He regarded her with frost-blue eyes, trying to see how serious she was about wanting to know what happened to him. He folded his arms across his chest with a grunt and leaned back, figuring out how to say it.

"Three and a half years in a maximum security prison, high security wing. 43 months all together. During that time I was assaulted by 39 men, each trying to kill me for a variety of reasons. So I thought. Generally in groups of 3 or 4. The one that shanked my belly did the most damage. He nearly killed me. Happened at night, so I was stuck in the infirmary where I noticed the blond nurse didn't blink, or breath. She was night shift, so it wasn't like we ran into her all that often. It was interesting, the way the fights went. They were kind of like clockwork. Every 5 weeks. Then I'd end up in the infirmary during my week out get in a fight and be back in solitary. Each time, just over 4 weeks. Each time a checkup with that nurse as soon as I got out. It wasn't until I started having the dreams about drinking blood from her lips that the memories started coming back. Mostly of her whispering for me to "forget." 34 trips to solitary. Each time for an entire month. Medical records showed I suffered symptoms much like severe drug withdrawal each time. It wasn't until the Prison's medical chief got replaced that they decided to take a closer look at all those trips to the infirmary and found the cancer. Then came the deal and letting me go. Thing is, they never found a reason drugs in my system. It was a "medical mystery" that most likely came from "cancer related complications."

He shrugged and reached up, brushing a hand through his hair and closing his eyes contemplatively. Thinking about it. Then he shook himself like a bear coming out of the water and let out a soft grunt.

"Not sure what the point was. I remember one comment clearly "this is for Marco." But far as I can tell, that bitch in the Prison ghouled me, set prisoners to attack me, then put me in solitary to dry me out, over and over. Wiping memories and fiddling with my brain to keep me from going completely insane. Just... for the fun of it. She was away on a business trip, family related or something when they transferred me out to a high security hospital and made the deals that got me released. Truth is I'm scared to death to think I might see that woman again. Been hiding in bunkers ever since."
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Toran's Voice

Can't leave... can't leave... can't leave the girls will eat me....
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Mac
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Goddess of Fuck and War
* * * * *
She got really still, and rigid as he spoke. Her eyes went down from his face, drifting to his toes and staying there as she listened. The muscles in her neck seemed more prominent, as her body tenses and he sucked all the fluids from her mouth and bit into the fleshy front part of the inside of her lip. When she swallowed, it was a struggle to get it down through the strained muscles of her throat.

"Was she Blonde? Pretty, but not gorgeous... glasses, perfect pony tail. Tall, and business like with a sexuality like a naughty librarian?"

Her voice reflected the same tension that her body displayed, the words entirely flat and void of any sense of emotional state other than hard dettachment.
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"You are so fucking Camarilla. All hope and optimism. Maybe we can mount a rescue mission, and everyone can have a cupcake party, and fly around on Pegasus unicorns pooping rainbows."
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Toran
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The Formerly Hated
* * * * * *
"Sounds about right. The memories are blurry and she tended to sort of lurk in the background. I think I only noticed her because one of the inmates was hitting on her and she just... ignored him like he didn't matter. Despite him being a huge guy."

Toran didn't need to be an expert on Mac to get the sense that this woman was bad news, and probably someone from her past. He knew the name Marco was tied to Mac, but he wasn't going to push it. He'd chosen to be her friend and he took whatever shit that dropped on him onto his shoulders. He wasn't going to blame her for it... and that read in his body language, not that she could see it staring at the floor. He also wasn't going to push her on the issue, just going to answer her questions and let things go however she wanted.
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Toran's Voice

Can't leave... can't leave... can't leave the girls will eat me....
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Mac
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Goddess of Fuck and War
* * * * *
She lifted her hands from her knee's, her movements no longer the fluid and predatory actions of a panther like creature. She was disjointed now, almost like she was off balance as she slid down to the ground and just walked for the front door. It was time to leave, and she didn't even look back to him as she went for it. She made it abundantly clear she didn't want to be touched, followed, or even talk anymore... a fizzling energy of tension rolling off her as she went.

She needed to go temper tantrum, but she couldn't temper tantrum here. She couldn't do it in public, she needed... a safe place to hide for a while, a safe place to escape herself. That usually meant quitting the bottle, and letting her psychopath self have a little more me time. No more drowning it out in booze and vodka, she needed to escape the guilt of this entire, crushing wave by escaping her humanity.

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"You are so fucking Camarilla. All hope and optimism. Maybe we can mount a rescue mission, and everyone can have a cupcake party, and fly around on Pegasus unicorns pooping rainbows."
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Toran
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The Formerly Hated
* * * * * *
Toran nodded, watched her go and locked the door behind her. He was used to it. She sorta, checked out when shit got too much. Couldn't blame her. Still, it kept her going. That was what was important.

"Stay safe Sugar Tits... stay safe."

He murmured softly, his deep voice filling the empty room. His frost-blue eyes were sad as he shook his head, closed up, turned off the lights and went upstairs.
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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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