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Dreams Dark and Dire

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  1. #1
    DaevaDude's Avatar


    Narration:


    Since the Lost Nights, the Domain of Sacramento has become home to at least as many kindred as ever before, possibly more. The vampires of Sacramento represent a pretty diverse bunch in terms of clan, covenant, personality and age. But neonate, ancilla or elder, Acolyte or Sanctified, Savage or Shadow, Prince or pariah, they all have one thing in common... unless they put tremendous effort into resisting the lure of daysleep, they all rest away the hours between dusk and dawn in out-of-the-way places.

    Some sleep in lavish quarters, guarded by security systems and dedicated ghoul servants. Others sleep in small apartments with the windows painted over. Some sleep with others of their kind, while others haven alone. Some, mostly Gangrel, sleep within the cool earth itself. Still, for the vast majority, each sleeps through the day, waking at nightfall, usually (a few Dragons excepted) a bit more hungry than when they lay down.

    At some point after falling to rest for the day, a number of the Kindred of Sacramento find themselves in the company of others of their type - some well-known, some only recognized, some completely unfamiliar - on or near a familiar streetcorner, near the Avalon. The city is completely dark, with no streetlights, traffic signals, security lights, neon signs, or lighted office windows. The only light is the dim glow from a blood-red full moon, directly above them, casting a bloody glow upon the Kindred and their surroundings.

    The Kindred generally regard themselves as the rulers of the night... yet, none present feels secure as they become aware of their surroundings. There is a sense of foreboding in the air, the feeling that something is going to happen, and that this something will most likely not be good.

    Thread Rules: Please Read.

    The characters in this thread will early on figure out they are dreaming, though I would like the players to roleplay each chaaracter coming to this conclusion in their own time and manner, or in response to in-thread events. In order to reinforce this sense of being in a dream, each player, upon first posting in this thread, is to describe what his or her character looks like in this dream.

    Perhaps your character's appearance is whatever is typical for the character, or perhaps not. Perhaps it is much different than how the character usually appears.

    Perhaps she appears younger than her actual appearance, or much, much older, reflecting the age of her blood rather than the appearance of her undying body.

    Perhaps he looks more alive, or as he did at some point prior to his Embrace, or perhaps his appearance is more ghastly and more obviously dead than the character appears in the real world.

    Perhaps her hands drip with blood, or her fangs are always out.

    Perhaps the physically beautiful appear damaged or ugly in this scene, reflecting the state of their Humanity, or perhaps a vampire who looks unremarkable during his waking nights appears here in some idealized form, reflecting how he sees himself or what he wishes he was.

    Perhaps a vampire who walks the nights scarred or disfigured or maimed in some way does not carry those marks or suffer from any such infirmity within this scene.

    Your character may be naked, or clothed, or dressed however she dresses for sleep, and if clothed, she may wear her ordinary sort of outfit, or a fancier one, or tatters, or perhaps something symbolic.

    Perhaps your character's appearance in the scene somehow - subtly or blatantly - reflects his Virtue, or his Vice, or a combination of the two. Perhaps her Derangements are more evident, or physically visible in some manner.

    Your character enters the scene with no gear whatsoever, save any that are strongly connected to the character's identity. Thus, covenant emblems or religious symbols, trademark weapons, or important heirlooms or reminders of the character's mortal life may be present, as the player chooses.

    Use your imagination to portray your character's dream-self in a manner that conveys to others something interesting or important about your character... possibly including something heretofore unknown to the other player characters, or perhaps even something unknown to the character's own conscious mind.

    Be creative. Have fun.

    For purposes of this scene, some of the characters' abilities will be altered. Rather than using Vitae, characters start the scene with an effective "Vitae pool" equivalent to their Willpower. Thus, within this scene, Willpower can be used as normal, or it can be used in the ways Vitae is normally used (to fuel Disciplines, heal damage, enhance Physical dice pools, etc.). One exception: If you believe your character's dream appear alive or reflective of the vice of Lust, the character receives the benefits of the Blush of Life for the scene at no cost.

    To clarify: In this scene, your character's available Willpower points also serve as his or her Vitae pool, and both make up the same pool. So, if your character normally has 5 Willpower, during the course of this scene she can spend a total of 4 points of Willpower + Vitae. Spend wisely.

    Willpower can be regained normally for portraying a character's Virtue or Vice (Note: If Sean or Lori takes part in this thread, they still have the Virtue for Vice trait imposed by their pact with Samael).

    All characters are assumed to start the scene at full Willpower -1, and at full Health.

    All characters enter the scene with their full and actual Blood Potency apparent. Effects such as Mask of Tranquility and Aspect of the Predator do not apply; in this scene, the Beast cannot be hidden or made to appear as other than what it truly is.

    One final note: This scene is an exception to general Twilight Valley rules regarding being active in multiple sticky threads. In other words, your character can be involved in this thread while also taking part in some other sticky (clan meeting, follow up to the Blood Hunt, or a cross-venue thread hosted in the Mage or Changeling forums, for example). This is appropriate because this scene occurs during the daytime, and if your vampire is active in any of those other threads, they aren't happening during the daylight hours.

  2. #2
    Jayant Nagaraj's Avatar

    Jayant Nagaraj

    1
    PRE

    Jayant walks the night, barefoot. The sounds of nothing discomforts him and despite the abundance of shadows, he is scared and alone.

    The blood moon winks at him with each step as he makes his way towards Avalon.

    He looks down, his head moving like its pushing through treacle. He is wearing a pair of blue and white pyjamas and as he notices his garb, his hand flies to his waist and finds his kukri is not there. Taking a closer look at his hands, Jayant sees they are smaller, as are his feet.

    He feels his face and can sense the panic rising. He is a boy again, on the cusp of teenage-hood. He is 12 once again, a period of innocence and playing.

  3. #3
    J
    Jak

    Dona Eis Requiem Aeternam...

    Alastair's eyes open suddenly as the words of a Mass for the Dead echo through his mind. His eyes open, but he's not where he was when he closed them. He's standing under a streetlight in what must be Downtown Sacramento. He can see the Avalon a few blocks away. Why was everything so dark?

    As he looks around, he sees the streetlight is out, as are all the others in sight. There was something specifically familiar about this place... Alastair's hand reaches into his right pocket, apparently without the young man noticing or willing it, and withdraws a small metal object.

    Suddenly, he has it. This is where his death really began. This was the corner on which Mariel had found him. On his first night. The first night of his Requiem.

    Dona Eis Requiem Aeternam...

    He can see a shadow of a figure next to him, but it's as if he's trying to look at a ghost that has not yet fully manifested. He hopes to God it's Mariel. As God crosses his mind, he is suddenly aware that something is in his right hand. He opens the fist and smiles to see that it is his small silver rosary. Closing his fist around it again, he brings it to his chest for a moment before putting it back in his pocket.

    As he waits for the shadow to form, he notices that he's wearing what he must have had on when he died. Black corduroy pants, and a plain white shirt. But there's something on his shirt that shouldn't be there... Alastair steps forward a bit, out of the moon-shade of the building, and the vague outline becomes clear. At just the spot where he had held his rosary to his heart, there is a square cross: red as the moon, red as blood.

    Alastair smiles as he turns back to the shadow he hopes is Mariel. It is the Cross of the Knights Templar. The Mass for the Dead continues to ring in his ears.

    Dona Eis Requiem Aeternam...

  4. #4
    Ishani's Avatar

    Ishani
    Ishani

    Presence 3
    Striking Looks 4 (graceful, Alluring)
    Mask of Tranquility

    +2
    SL
    3
    PRE

    Ishani stands on the corner, looking around. She looks down at her hands and sees the tarnished bracelets on her wrists. The bracelets that used to represent her connection to Yama. The dark metal moves around her wrists like some writhing living creature, now a stain upon her soul more then the shinning beacon they once were.

    She reaches for her neck, searching for the symbol of Yama's favor that once hung there and now finding nothing. Her clothes have been torn and are dirty, smeared with the mud and blood from the many battles she has suffered. Once they were white and pristine, a strong set of shinning armor, depicting the strength of her faith and her favor. Now the soiled garments hung limply, with no lustrious shine.

    Her eyes were dark and hollowed, the skin a pale gray of a corpse rather then the bright ivory of a beautiful woman. Her grace still remained however, but she did not stand as tall and sure of herself as she normally did. It was quite a sad sight and nothing like the Ishani Naetsh that all had come to recognize.
    Presence 3
    Striking Looks (Graceful, Alluring) 4
    Mask of Tranquility

  5. #5
    O-Yama's Avatar

    O-Yama
    O-Yama

    -1
    NOS
    1
    PRE

    O-Yama looks around, wondering why this pervading unease is all around. He notices that somethin is wrong, and feels that sense of foreboding. Much like his own clan 'deformity' of a feeling of impending bloodshed, this feeling creeped into his very being.

    He looked down, catching sight that he was shirtless. He was his dreamself... the tortured, beaten Samanosuke Hatori that had served under his sire. Two large, steel-tipped bamboo rods sprouted from his chest, running straight through his torso, the looked to have been rammed through his chest out his back and forced to heal around them. The two rods connected just a little above O-Yama's head, with a red-glowing lantern backlighting his head.

    Covering his entire torso, were faintly glowing patterns, similar to what kabuki wore. In places, the skin was paper thin, but mostly, he looked atleast somewhat similar to his normal self. A more decayed, rotting version of himself, but if you looked closely, you would recognise the walking cadaver as O-Yama.

    O-Yama immediately dropped into a combat stance, looking around, in all directions, rapidly searching for the Bearer of Lanterns... was it external, or within him? He bore the lantern showing that they were one, but this warped reality was too different for him to feel safe, even with having himself and the Oni as one entity. He reached for his katana, finding it at his waist, he said a quick prayer, blessing the spirit of the sword.

    He felt the Oni of another, and looked to see Jayant. Hand on the hilt of his katana, he made his way to him. "My friend, it seems we find ourselves in a troubling situation."

  6. #6
    L


    Wilhelm whirled around, taking in his surroundings. It was downtown Sacramento, but something was wrong. No lights, no kine, it was as though he was in an empty mockery of the city he had only recently arrived in. Then he took in his appearance, and were he still alive likely would have had his breath stolen in surprise.

    He recognized the clothes at once, garb he had never expected to see again. The exquisite finery he had worn on his 24th Birthday; the last major social event he’d attended before his family’s fall from power all those years ago, back when he had still been a noble in one of the many minor countries that made up modern day Germany. The blades he’d spent so much time with over the years were sheathed at either hip, a proud proclamation of his noble status that was no more. But from his hands, fangs, and blades dripped blood; falling in rich droplets only to disappear before it could land upon another solid surface. The blood of his victims, he somehow knew.

    Something was wrong here, and he could not afford to be caught off guard. So he called upon his prowess with Auspex, sharpening his eyesight and allowing his gaze to pierce the gloom with ease. And then he saw it at his feet. He bent down, his eyes wide with disbelief as he picked up the stake. But not just any stake. He recognized it, from the contour of the shaped wood and the name carved into the end. He had buried it into the chest of the crone a scarce few months before, later entombing her in concrete and fulfilling a quest for vengeance that had taken him more than two decades.

    Yes, something was indeed very wrong. Slipping the stake through his belt at the small of his back he started moving. He would not discern what was going on by merely standing around.

  7. #7
    Frost's Avatar


    Ayame stood in the street in front of Avalon, and it was indeed Ayame, not the grown and stoic Rosuto that the people of Sacramento had come to know. The small child of five stood in a frilly blue dress with shinning white shoes, clutching a small stuffed cat. Her eyes were obviously those of the woman Rosuto, but everything else was different. She had a smile on her face for one thing and she twirled in the street humming a song to herself as she danced with her kitty, seemingly oblivious to the strangness around her. Happy and content, the last time she had ever felt an emotion.
    If we shadows have offended
    Think but this, and all is mended......

  8. #8
    Roxie Hart's Avatar

    Presence ••• (Feisty)
    Striking Looks •• (Bitchin' legs)
    Blood Potency •••
    Domain Status •••
    Roxie Hart

    1
    PRE

    Roxie is naked, with only a golden scarf tied around her waist. Her guns are tucked in the scarf, and they symbolism is not lost on her as she recognizes the scarf for who's it was. Covered in cuneiform markings that look like implanted pieces of granite and shale, she leaves footprints of dark, rich earth behind her as she walks. She is swollen with pregnancy, but blood drips from her body as she walks, mixing with the earth she leaves behind and turning it to bubbling, sucking mud.

    She walks and this strange land ignores her. The earth has abandoned her, like all the others she cared about in the past. It is not an Ally willing to tell her it's secrets unless she forces it to do so. This is why she wanted a home, and is willing to shackle herself to the Prince to to build one.

    She walks the streets and sees the child dancing with her cat. Concerned over her safety and caressing her stomach in remembrance, Roxie speaks to her, and she sounds like she is trying not to sound like she is exhausted and sad. <<Hello there young lady, why are you out so late? Are you lost?>> She speaks a old language, a dead language for longer than any of them have been around, passed on to her from her sire from his sire from his sire and so on back down the ages to the founding of the Annunaku. Yet somehow, in this world, you do not need to know the language to understand it.

    In addition to the Willpower to awaken here, Roxie has spent 1 Willpower to activate Resilience
    BP ••• | SL2 (Bitchin Legs) | Pres ••• (Impatient)

  9. #9
    DaevaDude's Avatar


    Narration:


    As Roxie walks the strange, empty cityscape and speaks to the girl, she realizes something disturbing... her Tenure, combined with her having gotten fairly well-acquainted with the city, tells her that somehow, this place is Sacramento, or at least some aspect of it.

  10. #10
    Jayant Nagaraj's Avatar

    Jayant Nagaraj

    1
    PRE

    Jayant looks up at the monster speaking to him and he is frightened. It reminds him of the monster under the bed that his sister teases him with. But the voice....it sound familiar.

    "O-Yama?", he squeaks, his voice prepubescent and carrying a British accent, harking back to a time before his travelling.

    He really should have used the bathroom before going to bed; Jayant felt the urge to pee.

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